10-Jul-2005
Title: Splendor Restored 5/13
Author: BadMomma
Warnings: AU, limey
Pairings: 1x2x1, some mention of 3x4, OCs
Rating: R for language and some sexual situations
Disclaimer: Own them, I do not.
Archived: GWA, ff.net, Under the Bridge
Feedback: Craved, greatly appreciated and always answered.
Dedication: To Klingonpoo. Cause if it ain't 1x2 she won't read it.
Notes: Thanks to Link for giving this a read through and some rather amusing feedback. Duo's POV. This one's real short. The "/ /" denote emphasis on a word.
Summary: A Renovations Consultant finds more than just old buildings of interest on his new job site when he gets tangled up with the resort's Program Director.
Watching ice melt. You've heard that expression, right, 'As exciting as watching ice melt'? It means whatever you're doing is as mind-numbingly boring as all get out. And if you'd asked me yesterday, I would have wholeheartedly agreed. But not anymore. Not after today. Because today I watched an ice sculpture melt right before my eyes. And I think it was the most wonderful thing I've ever laid eyes on.
I'd met up with The Girls today, as is my habit whenever I can, to enjoy a little afternoon tea. OK, so I don't really like tea. Nor do I enjoy drinking anything that hot, exposed to the elements and in the middle of a scorching afternoon. But hey, The Girls like to do their Tuesday Afternoon Tea. According to them it's a ritual left over from bygone days and I've got a standing invitation to join them because, for some reason, they absolutely love me.
Alright, so maybe I know why they love me and it has a little something to do with the fact that I treat them special. I fawn over them. I kiss their hands and cheeks when I greet them. I hold doors for them. I always have time to stop and talk or help them out with whatever needs doing around their homes. I'm like the nice grandson that's always around. I really don't mind doing it and it makes them happy to know that some still cares and thinks about them on a daily basis. In my opinion, they deserve it.
So yeah, standing invitation to join them for their tea, out on the courtyard, every Tuesday at two o'clock. And unless I'm occupied with some work event or on my deathbed, I don't miss it. I usually get there a little past the hour, but there's always an extra cup waiting for me. They'll pour me tea, overload it with milk and honey, and it'll sit there until it's cooled down before I'll even consider drinking any of it. But then, like the good grandson-type that I am, I'll sip at it occasionally while listening to them tell each other stories of their week. Talk usually revolves around letters or calls from their families, who's coming to visit and when, which of their adult children are doing a good job of raising the kids and which aren't. Sometimes they'll ask my opinion about whether the things they've heard about are normal 'nowadays' or not. That's led to some interesting conversations, let me tell you. How do you explain to a group of decent, upstanding, matronly old ladies that today's fashions are just never going to make any sense to them?
Tea time also serves the purpose of planning their monthly outings. Earlier this month, I'd taken them out to a special matinee showing at the local playhouse. Discussion on this particular Tuesday was hot and heavy over whether a visit to the botanical gardens was a good idea at this time of year. Well, the hot and heavy discussion lasted until a certain cool customer showed up. And then they'd turned into a gaggle of cackling and cooing geese.
It never ceases to amaze me how my 'Old Girls' turn into silly 'Old Broads' at the sight a pretty new face. Their continuing reaction to Mr. Z always threatens to send me into hysterics. And yeah, I'd asked Heero to drop by if he had the time. They'd been inquiring about him almost obsessively. Seems the stud-dar had gone into overdrive with the arrival of our illustrious new tenant and I'd had to suffer through several rounds of 'twenty questions' since that Monday morning they'd caught sight of him in the lobby. It's gotten so I spent a good portion of my time these days talking to them about him. Not that I'm jealous or anything, I'm just saying--
And yes, I do recognize the irony of it all. I'm all hot under the collar about cool-as-a-cuke stud-muffin, and all The Girls want to know is if he's single or seeing someone, where he hails from, what his family's like, what he does for a living, and do I think he likes brainy brunettes with, or without, glasses because >insert granddaughter's name here< might be coming for a short vacation this summer.
So I'd invited him, and like the good little trooper he is, he'd accepted. Of course, he'd subjected me to his own round of 'twenty questions'. Everything ranging from who they were, to how long they'd been here, to do they live here year round, and what do they talk about at Tea, and would they likely be willing to share information or photographs of what the resort was like before I got here, and-- Well, I'm sure you can guess at how the rest of it went.
I can't say that I was surprised when he did show up, but it was pleasant none the less. He called out a greeting as soon as he breached the edge of the courtyard, which I returned with a nod and a wave as I rose to meet him. He stopped and we shook hands just a few feet from the table, but I noticed him coolly assessing the situation from where we stood. I took the moment of near privacy to ask him if he was really ready for this – with the appropriate emphasis on the word 'really' - and that near icy veneer of control he always has in place seemed to crack just a little. His eyes cut back to me immediately, widening momentarily. He ducked his head and leaned into to me slightly, control not quite back, responding with a slightly nervous 'Do I need to be?'
My snickered answer of 'maybe' made his face go from just slightly nervous to almost horrified, but it resettled quickly as he straightened himself up again – suddenly back in control. I relented, patting him on the back and then, assuring him he'd be fine, led him like a lamb to the slaughter.
When we turned back to the table, it was to find that in the scant seconds it had taken for us to greet each other, The Girls had performed a near miracle. They had – rather stealthily, I must say – rearranged themselves and the seating so that the only available spot for Heero was directly across the table from me, between Mildred and Claudine. I'd very carefully carved a nice little space for us to sit together in order to buffer him from their enthusiasm, should it become necessary. The saccharine-sweet smiles I found directed at us as we crossed the courtyard let me know that they were not only on to my plans, but that they were having none of it. I'd been a fool to think I could get away with it unnoticed. After making the perfunctory introductions, I deposited Heero in his seat with a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and returned to mine.
For the next few minutes they fussed over him; asking how he liked his tea (not like they'd ever damn well asked me), offering him some sweet biscuits and cakes, cooing about how nice it was of him to join them, and demurring that they hoped he didn't find them boring or old fashioned. It was truly nauseating. I swear, I don't think I'd ever seen them behave this way; not even when they'd first met the boss. It wasn't until he shot me the second 'Help me, please' look that I could muster the wits to put an end to it.
"Girls, please, stop making such a fuss. You're embarrassing him."
He immediately shot me a grateful look, even as he politely declined a plate of fruit tarts being thrust at him from the left.
It was Mildred, ever the opinionated one, that first seemed to realize just how silly they were acting. "You're right Duo, we should give him a chance to take a breath. Right girls?" She gave everyone a measured look and it was as if someone had flipped a switch. All motion and talk stopped; they all looked around at each other and suddenly broke out in chuckles.
Claudine, the group's politician, was the first to recover. "Very sorry, Mr. Yuy; I guess we got a little carried away." It made Heero tense up when she patted his hand, which held his portfolio in front of him like a shield. I doubt she or anyone else noticed his reaction, it was very subtle. But I'd sort of developed the habit of watching him closely – any and every opportunity I got – so I recognized the slight change in his posture.
He cleared his throat and smoothly answered, "It's alright, Mrs. --?"
"Claudine is just fine, dear. May we call you Heero?"
"Yes. Yes, of course. Please." He bowed his head to her slightly.
She smiled back at him. "How about I introduce us again? This is Corrine," she motioned to her left and began working her way around the table, "and Anita." She gave me a quick look before skipping over me. "And those are Sadie, Annabelle and Mildred." She pointed to each of them as she named them.
Heero made eye contact with everyone as they were reintroduced. Then, with another bow of the head, he greeted them all again. "Ladies."
I was watching the exchange so closely that it caught me completely off guard when Anita moved to push some loose hair behind my ear. "And you know our Duo, of course." The gleam I saw when her eyes met mine worried me.
Heero looked from her to me, holding my gaze for a moment before making that strange face he does where one corner of his mouth pulls back – not up or down, just back – and he cocks his head slightly, before smoothly answering "Of course."
I'm still not quite sure what that look is supposed to mean, but I hope to have it figured out soon.
Feigning nonchalance, I cocked my head at him and answered with a grin. "Of course." Crossing my arms and legs and leaning back in my chair, I wondered how long it would take before they started grilling him. "So girls, now that we've all been introduced, what shall we talk about?"
Sadie shushed me with a wave of her hand. "Give him a minute to get settled, dear. He hasn't even put his notebook down yet." She quickly turned to Heero, leaning forward slightly, "We can make some space for it here on the table, if you'd like?"
Seeming to suddenly realize he was still clutching it to his chest, he started, looking around himself a bit. "No, that's alright. I'll just put it down here." I think he meant to set it underneath his chair, but didn't get very far.
"Oh my, no! It looks very expensive. You wouldn't want to get it dirty and scratched, dear. We can make room for it."
Instantly, everyone's hands went to work at making space for it on the table while Heero tried again to protest, insisting that it wasn't expensive and would be fine if he put it on the floor. As I'd suspected, he lost that battle, finally having it plucked from his hands by Mildred while he fended off Claudine's offer to hold it. Mildred's move startled him and he tensed slightly again, belatedly giving her a strained smile.
Despite feeling infinitely sorry for him, it took a lot of effort not to bust out laughing. Heero was clearly tense and The Girls weren't helping any. It was actually kind of nice to see the guy could have his feathers ruffled. He always seems to be so in control, collected, like nothing ever gets to him. One cool customer.
I was just opening my mouth to start the conversation when I was accosted, simultaneously, from both sides. Anita patted my arm in a move that clearly told me to keep my mouth shut and Sadie leaned over, offering to top off my tea, while giving me a look that echoed the sentiment. Surprised by their behavior, I couldn't help but look back and forth between them before giving up. I felt like we'd been invaded by pod people; I swear they'd never behaved this batty before. And what was with the 'Keep Duo Out of the Conversation' routine they had going?
Heero, it seems, had caught the exchange too and was staring back at me when I finally looked his way. He had a vaguely horrified look just barely visible in his eyes. All I could offer him was a slight shrug, hoping he'd realize that I had no more clue as to what was happening than he did. I'm sure he'd been counting on me to be his go between for the proceedings, and it was bad enough that they'd felt the need to separate us, but if I wasn't going to be allowed to speak either it was going to be one hell of an interesting afternoon.
After a few more random comments about tea and cakes and the value of portfolios, things seemed to be settling down. Finally, one of The Girls threw out something that he could handle and he jumped on it with zeal: Annabelle asked what had brought him to the resort. He was still sitting very properly, a little tense and very formal, but at least he was talking about something that interested him. That always seemed to relax him. It was the first sign that his icy façade of control was finally beginning to melt. Things went pretty smoothly for a while after that and eventually he stopped tensing up every time one of The Girls jumped into the conversation or made a move in his direction. For my part, I just sat back and soaked it all in, thrilled to have an excuse to overtly watch him.
Little by little, the occasional looks he shot in my direction started moving away from the initial plea for help. His eyes would meet mine as if asking for my approval, checking to see if he was doing OK. I made sure to always give him the slightest nod of encouragement. As The Girls got more seriously into the conversation, I began to look around. Watching the whole of the conversation, though frequently returning my gaze to Heero, I often caught him looking back at me when I'd been looking away and realized the looks had turned into an attempt to include me in the conversation. Valiant as the attempts were, though, they were repeatedly unsuccessful. My pod-grandmothers continued to shush or pat me and cut me off before I could get two words in edgewise. At one point, Anita's staying hand glued itself to my bicep for so long I thought I might have to have it surgically removed. After enduring the gentle restraint for nearly ten minutes, I dislodged it by leaning forward under the pretense of reaching for a plate of sweets from across the table.
By then Heero's posture had shifted from that tense, upright position with both feet firmly on the floor to something much more relaxed. He'd leaned against the back of his chair at some point and even managed to extend his legs under the table with his ankles crossed. When he saw me reaching across the table he sat up, uncrossing his ankles and leaning forward, his hand shooting out to offer me whatever I was seeking.
When our eyes met some spark of knowledge, or truth, passed between us.
In the second it took for me to decide what I wanted and for him to hand it to me, it dawned on me that the real Heero, the one he usually keeps locked up under the cool, restrained exterior, had finally made an appearance. It was the Heero I had gotten only glimpses of that afternoon at the Ale House, the one who had quietly shared a little of his history with me that night at the bookstore, the one I usually only got to see on Wednesday mornings. He was a youthful, engaging and kind man who had so much more to offer than his usually stern exterior would lead you to believe.
In that moment, a realization struck me with crystallized clarity. I'd found a lasting friendship in him. If nothing more ever developed between us, I knew I could bring myself to live with it. And for that, I offered him a quiet, but heartfelt, thanks. The smile he returned as he began leaning back was beatific, giving me just the slightest nod of acceptance.
Our moment was over and the void of sound and activity suddenly made itself known. We both huffed out a nervous laugh as he pushed his chair back from the table. A few of The Girls immediately reached for their tea cups or looked away to cover the fact that they'd been staring. He dropped his elbows to his knees, clasping his hands and hanging his head slightly, trying to cover an embarrassed smile, I think.
"Well," he huffed, standing gracefully and tucking his portfolio up under his arm, before looking around the table. "Thank you, everyone, for inviting me. I had a great time, but I do need to get back to work." He gave them an abbreviated yet formal bow, a smile hovering at the corner of his mouth, "Ladies".
His announcement caused a flurry of activity; china and silverware were set down, napkins folded and offers of an open invitation were made. I rose to make my way around the table and he turned to meet me, setting his portfolio back down.
Thinking back on it, I recognize my actions as an urgent desire in that moment to just-- touch him. I guess I was looking for a reassurance that what I thought had passed between us was real. I met his outstretched hand firmly, clasping it between both of mine. "Thanks again for coming, man."
He nodded and our eyes locked. "No," he replied intensely, "thank you."
His hand rose to my shoulder and squeezed, drawing us minutely closer. I answered in kind and nodded back at him, our hands still moving between us.
"You're welcome to join us any time," I smiled and shot a look back at The Girls; "They don't extend invitations lightly."
His right shoulder pulled back in the act of turning toward the table, answering their expectant gazes with a nod and a quiet 'thank you'. The move severed most of our contact but his hand lingered on my shoulder, fingers splayed at my back.
When he turned back, he quirked that boyish smile at me. Sliding his hand to my bicep, he gave me one last squeeze.
"I've really got to go." He quickly checked his watch and smirked. "Appointment in five."
We both nodded as he released me to retrieve his portfolio.
"I'll see you later?" His eyebrows rose, changing it from a question to a statement, while still the indicating the tiniest bit of hope.
"Definitely," I reassured him, stepping back and giving him room to maneuver.
Giving The Girls another bow, he murmured one last goodbye.
I dropped into his vacant seat with a satisfied grin as he walked away to a chorus of well wishes and happy returns.
End Part 5
(:./bm/splendor5)
