Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Final Grade ❯ Chapter 11

Title: Final Grade
Chapter: 11/?
Warnings: The usual
Disclaimers: Gundam Wing, its characters, and its settings are not mine, nor am I making any money from this story. GW is copyright Bandai/Sunrise/etc. and is used without permission, for entertainment purposes only. Sacred Grounds is not mine, and is being used without permission. "Burning Times" was written and is performed by the goth-pagan band Inkubus Sukkubus, and is used without permission. "Mad Tom of Bedlam" is not mine and is being used without permission. I have no idea who wrote it, but I got the lyrics from the version The Bedlam Boys sing and the version Tempest sings. Amir, however, *is* mine, and may *not* be used without my permission.

Triton had a growth on his leg in the shape of a small boy the moment he stepped in the front door. He sighed inaudibly and trudged his way to the dining room, where Heero had cornered Sylvia. He wasn't even touching her and she was shrieking with laughter, the pitch of her shrieks jumping whenever her fiancé made any move toward her. There was feminine laughter behind him and Triton picked Amir up and backed away from the door and to the side, just in time to avoid having Relena, followed moments later by Wufei, run into him.

"Heeeerooooooo!" The Japanese man turned and Sylvia darted away as he caught the young queen.

"K'so! Wufei!"

As Heero held the squirming Queen, Wufei caught Sylvia and held her tightly. Both women started shrieking, kicking and wailing with laughter, trying to get free. With patient sighs and mutual looks of long-suffering, Heero and Wufei maneuvered their lovers until the women were back-to-back before tickling both. Triton and Amir flinched and covered their ears from the volume of Relena and Sylvia's combined shrieking and Quatre skidded into the room, eyes wide.

One look at the center of the room made him roll his eyes. "You four! You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought someone was really hurt."

Both young men stepped back and the two women clung to each other, giggling and shrieking softly every time one lover or the other moved toward them. They looked as if they should have been standing on a chair, huddling together and shrieking at rats. Except they both had pet rats. Finally, Relena stopped being noisy and looked at Sylvia. Heero and Wufei exchanged glances and started backing away.

"You know, Sylvia, just because they're bigger than us and stronger than us doesn't mean we can't defend ourselves."

Sylvia raised her eyebrows and thought, then nodded. "True. It doesn't mean that we can't make them miserable." That was all it took. Both Asian men turned tail and fled before their lovers even turned toward them. The women followed gleefully, laughing and taunting them.

"What a headache," Quatre muttered. "My home used to be so nice and quiet . . . Ah, well." He glanced at Triton and Amir, smiling faintly. "Dinner shouldn't be too long." He headed out the side to door the backyard, still muttering. "Maybe Relena can stay with Wufei . . . That would get rid of her and Wufei, and Heero would follow Relena and take Sylvia . . ."

Amir turned in Triton's arms and looked at him. "I like having so many people here. Usually it's only Father and I, and a few servants. It gets lonely. But now that you're here we can have fun, right, Triton?"

The young man nodded and absently kissed Amir's temple. "Of course, Amir."

That made the boy happy, as if he hadn't already been happy, then Triton was dragged off to play in Amir's room with him. A quarter of an hour later Mariemaia banged on the door and grumbled something about food. The three headed downstairs, where an interesting dinner seating ritual commenced. Amir sat Triton between he and his father. Mariemaia kept trying to sit by Duo, but Trowa kept moving either her or the American. Relena had decided that Wufei's lap was as good a seat as any and Amir took his cue from the Queen and demanded to sit in Triton's lap. Heero and Sylvia may as well have been sharing a seat since their chairs were so close together, and all the while Trowa, Duo and Mariemaia kept up their ring-around-the-rosie about the table. Finally Quatre got fed up and stood, bringing his palms down on the table with a resounding crack. Everyone jumped and watched him, sometimes guiltily.

"Trowa," Quatre murmured, "leave Duo and Mariemaia alone. Sit away from them. Amir, sit in your seat. Relena gets to sit in Wufei's lap because she's our guest, a woman and the Queen, in that order. I *will* have peace at this dinner table." He stared darkly around the table. "I'm warning you all, I go from zero to ZERO in less than ten seconds."

That brought a few nervous chuckles. Triton stayed silent, feeling much the stranger in this strange company. He couldn't claim involvement in either war and he couldn't claim relations to anyone, as Amir could to Quatre. Stranger in a strange land, that was what Triton felt like.

After one more long look around the table Quatre nodded, satisfied that he'd asserted his dominance over everyone present. He sat and nodded again to Amir, who sat on Triton's left. "Amir, it's your turn to say the prayer."

"All right, Father." The young child bowed his head and folded his hands together, squeezing his eyes shut. Everyone else bowed their heads, as well, then he started. "Thank You Allah, and God, and Goddess, and Zeus, and Apollo, and Aprodite, and Artemis, and Hecate, and Isis and Pan and---"

"Amir, just say thank you."

"Oh. And thank You, all of You, for this meal and this day and for giving us life and . . . and . . . and thank You!" There was a pause, then Amir continued quickly. "P.S., please let Father let me have a real lion for when I'm Queen of the World. Thank You again!" He opened his eyes, still squinting, and glanced at his father.

Quatre just chuckled, shaking his head. He reached behind Triton and ruffled his son's hair. "I think that last part is a bedtime prayer, child."

"I wanted to say it now," Amir muttered. He then brightened and hungrily watched the food that was being brought in.

* * *

After dinner Triton escaped to his room, pleading fatigue. Once there he swallowed nervously, butterflies fluttering around in his stomach as he fingered the slip of paper that had Ralph's number on it. It didn't have the right prefix to be a vidphone number, for which the young man was grateful. After a few minutes of nervous pacing he finally picked up the telephone and slowly dialed the number. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to Ralph. He'd only met the man twice, and not for very long either time. Still, Ralph *was* quite attractive and he *seemed* really nice. Then again, James had seemed really nice, too. Triton was saved from that train of thought when the answering machine picked up.

"You've reached the residence of Ralph Kurt. If you're selling something, hang up because I'm not buying. If it's Friday, I'm at an art exhibit in sector five. If it's Saturday then I'm busy moving into my new apartment and I'll be in and out. If it's Sunday then I'm doing the same as on Saturday. If this is the love of my life, please leave your name and number. I'll get back to you as soon as I get home on Sunday night."

There was a pause and then a beep. Triton was at a sudden loss for words. "This is . . . this is Triton. We . . . met at the library and---"

"Hello?" Ralph's sudden voice made Triton jump and he put a hand over his racing heart. "Triton?"

"I'm here."

The young man could almost feel Ralph's smile. "Good. I was wondering if you were going to call."

"Were you waiting for me to call?"

"I was hoping you would, but I wasn't sitting by the phone watching the clock."

Triton flushed, a smile creeping to his own face. He couldn't believe he was doing this. "What were you doing, then?"

"Painting."

"You're an artist?"

"Yeah, I try to be."

The young man nodded. "What sort of art, besides painting? Or do you just paint?"

"You know, you're a lot more talkative on the phone. I do most anything I can get my hands on. I paint, sculpt, draw . . . Do you do any art?"

"I used to finger-paint when I was a child."

Ralph chuckled. "Really. What do you do now? Are you in college?" There was a hint of hope in the man's voice.

Triton sat on the couch as he answered. "I'm in college. You?"

"Me, too. I'm transferring to Joiston next year. I hear it's really different than most colleges."

"Well, I've been told that it's run like a high school is, with eight-period days and such."

"You've been *told*? Don't you go there?"

"Well, yes, but I never went to high school. I got tutored."

"Mm. Your family has money?"

That made Triton snort. "Hardly. My sister and I were raised with a circus." When Ralph started laughing Triton bristled. "It's *not* funny."

"I'm sorry. Oh, I'm sorry. That's just . . . not what I expected to hear." Ralph calmed down a bit and stopped laughing, though his laughter still rang in his voice. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't offend you."

"No, you didn't," Triton muttered, pouting.

"No, I offended you. I'm really sorry. I'll have to make it up to you later, but tell me about Joiston. Will it be run the same next year?"

"No, the Dean's sister is taking over. The current Dean . . . Well, she took some sanity test and scored one notch below legally insane. So she's being forced to resign and her sister is going to make Joiston a real college. The Queen even sent a letter saying so."

Once more Ralph laughed. "I'm not surprised. Relena's got her head screwed on right, that girl does. What classes are you taking? Do you know what you want to be?"

The young man flushed again and ducked his head, though Ralph couldn't see him. "Well, I . . . I'm going to be a psychologist."

"Wow. Well, I'm just going to be a lowly artist." There was nothing but humor in Ralph's voice.

Triton chuckled softly and looked up at a knock on his door. "Just a moment." He covered the mouthpiece and spoke up. "Come in."

Quatre poked his head in the door. "Cathrine's on the vidphone."

"Thank you." As his teacher nodded and shut the door, the young man turned back to his conversation. "I'm sorry, Ralph, but I need to go. My sister's on the vidphone."

"All right. I don't suppose I could get you to meet me tomorrow night at Sacred Grounds for coffee or something, could I?"

"Well . . ." Triton took a deep breath and held it as he thought. "All right. What time?"

"Nine good?"

"All right. I'll . . . see you there."

"Good. Goodbye, Triton."

"Goodbye, Ralph." They hung up and Triton buried his face in a pillow, laughing. He'd just accepted . . . a date? Maybe. But he was going out the next night with a very attractive man, to be sure. After composing himself he got up and walked out of his room, heading to the vidphone in the hallway. Quatre looked up and then said goodbye to Cathrine, stepping aside. Triton leaned over, looking down at his older sister. "Hey, Kate. How are you?"

To her credit, Cathrine didn't burst into tears. Her eyes were teary, though, and she sniffed. "I miss my baby brother, *that's* how I am. Why do you have to stay there for college?"

"You told me tha---"

"I don't *care* what I told you! I *miss* you! You *have* to come back, Triton." Misty blue eyes overflowed with tears.

Triton sighed and gently touched the image of his sister's cheek. "Come on, Kate, you know I can't do that. But we can call each other and write and when we have time, we can visit. Don't worry, Kate. I had to leave home sometime."

Cathrine didn't look convinced but she nodded anyway. "How are things with you?"

"I'm . . . doing fine."

"What about with Quatre?"

The young man rolled his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it, Cathrine. This is supposed to be a happy call."

"All right, fine. How's school?"

"Cat, you left today. It's Sunday."

"I knew that."

"Right." The young man smiled down at his sister, who smiled back.

"So, have any dates yet? Cute guys following you around?"

That made Triton laugh. "Well, there's this one man I met at the library . . ."

"*Oh*? *Do* tell!"

"There's nothing *to* tell, really. I bumped into him, literally, a few days ago and we met again tonight." Triton shrugged philosophically.

"Did he ask you out?"

"*Kate*!"

Cathrine laughed. "What? I want to know if he asked you out or not. Chill out."

The Latin man sighed hugely and rolled his eyes again. "*Yes*, he asked me to meet him at a coffee shop tomorrow night."

"Does Quatre know?"

Triton started reaching for the disconnect button. "I'm hanging up."

"No! I'm sorry, Triton. I'm just curious. You move out, now you have a date . . . I feel kind of left out." His sister's eyes once more sparkled with tears.

It took some time to convince Cathrine that he was doing perfectly well on his own, he *did* want to see Ralph the next night, Ralph was *very* polite and that he was fine living with Quatre. Then Cathrine started yawning and Triton very gentle eased her off the vidphone, promising to call after his date the next night.

* * *

The next morning was very odd for both Triton and Quatre. Neither man knew how to act around the other, neither was willing to *admit* it and though Quatre had stopped touching Triton unless he needed to, that didn't mean he had to stay *away* from his student. They moved cautiously about each other, testing the waters, so to speak. Finally getting uncomfortable, Triton left early for school. He vaguely remembered Ralph mentioning being an artist and changed directions, heading to the local art museum to see if maybe the older man had any work on display.

Once there, finding some of Ralph's work proved to be exceedingly easy. All he did was mention Ralph's name and the young woman he was asking brightened, leading him directly to a small exhibit area. Left there, Triton looked around with wide eyes.

'"Tries" to be an artist, my ass.' There were photographs, paintings, sculptures of every material . . . Ralph certainly had a lot of talent. Triton looked around curiously, and as he was leaning over to look at a sculpture that looked like frozen flame he caught sight of the clock on the wall. He had five minutes before class started. "Shit!" The young man hurried to his car and to school, cursing himself for losing track of the time. Once there he slid quietly into the classroom, but Professor Chang noticed him anyway.

"Hello, Mr. Bloom. How good of you to join us."

Triton flushed and muttered an apology as he took his seat. Relena was lounging next to him and reached over, patting his knee consolingly. He nodded his thanks to her and didn't move for the rest of the class. When the bell rang he hurried out, ducking his head to avoid Professor Chang's glower.

"Hello, little boy. Where's your Mommy?" The young man groaned softly and kept walking. Maybe the Dean would go away. "I'll be your Mommy, little boy." No such luck. Triton forced himself to smile and faced her.

"Good morning, Ms. Ybarra."

That made the woman giggle. She walked around him, looking him up and down intently before reaching a hand out to brush it against his skirt-clad hip. Triton tensed and backed up a little. Ms. Ybarra giggled again and followed him.

"Ms. Ybarra, I need to be going to class now."

"Yes, yes, run home to Mommy, little boy." She turned and wandered off, leaving Triton to glare at her back.

"Icky woman."

"Doth my ears deceive me, or did you just say 'icky'?"

"Ah!" Triton whipped around at the voice right next to his ear, bringing his hand up and slapping the man behind him. Ralph reeled back a bit, eyes wide and Triton gasped. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize it was you!"

"Apparently not." Ralph was rubbing his cheek, shaking his head with a slight grin. "Damn, you've got an arm on you. You shouldn't hit people, you know, especially ones who think you're cute. Are you all right? I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm fine," Triton muttered, frowning and staring at the ground. He jumped only a little when Ralph tilted his head up with a finger, averting his eyes.

"Why look down?" the older man murmured.

"Well, I . . ." Shyly, Triton raised his eyes to Ralph's, feeling his cheeks warm. Great, he was blushing. "I saw some of your art before school today," he whispered shakily, heart thudding in his chest. For some reason, looking into a person's eyes was a deeply intimate gesture, a gesture that left one's guard down or at least weakened it severely. It didn't help that Ralph's blue eyes were so intense as they focused on Triton's green ones, searching them.

"Oh? Did you like it?"

"Well, I . . . I need to go to class." Triton moved away and started backing up, heart pounding. He was desperate to get away and get his emotions under control.

"All right. I'll see you tonight."

"Yes," Triton said breathlessly before turning and fleeing. He barely made it to class on time, sliding into his seat just as the bell rang. Quatre was standing at the front of the room with a young woman and smiled at the class.

"Good morning, students. This is Ms. Shelby Ybarra, who will be the new Dean starting next year."

"Good morning. As you all know, Shawna, my sister, won't be the Dean next year and I'll be taking over." Someone, probably Duo, muttered "Thank God" and Shelby smiled. "I know. Try living with her. Anyway, most, if not all, of you are freshmen, so I'm going to take a moment to explain how the college will be run next year. If you don't already know how a college is run, there won't be any day-to-day classes like you have now. We'll have classes that run every other day not including weekends, and depending on which class they can go from an hour to two hours. For example, you might have Psychology One-A Mondays and Wednesdays from six-thirty until eight at night, and maybe some science course Tuesdays and Thursdays from, oh, noon 'till two in the afternoon. Anyone confused?" No one spoke up and she smiled again. "Good. Any questions?" Again, no one spoke up. "Good. I think I can leave the rest to Mr. Winner. Good day, everyone." Shelby turned and left after nodding to Quatre with a smile that was slightly more than friendly. Triton bristled a little as Quatre returned the smile.

"She's *hot*," Duo said as soon as the door closed.

"And you're unavailable," Hilde shot back.

"So? Doesn't mean I can't think she's hot. I *like* red-heads." Quatre, Triton, Hilde and Duo all smiled or chuckled, leading to a slightly confused class.

"All right, let's get to work. Two more weeks, students, then you're free. Unless, of course, you're taking the next level of psychology next year. Then you have fifty-fifty chances of getting me again." He grinned and rolled his eyes at several offers of sexual favors, chuckling. "Work. Now."

* * *

"Triton, where are you going?" Amir was on his bed, watching him get ready.

"I'm going out."

"Why?"

"Because someone asked me to meet them."

"Do you have a date?"

Triton paused and thought, smiling despite himself. ". . . I guess."

Amir scowled and kicked his legs violently. "No! You can't go on a date, Triton! What if you fall in love?"

The young man chuckled slightly. "I don't think I'll fall in love with him, Amir. How do I look?" He twirled slowly in front of the child. He had on a gypsy skirt that fell to his ankles with tiny bells around the waist. The skirt was several dark colors, each section going all the way around the skirt and each was about three inches thick. Triton was also wearing an off-white cotton shirt that buttoned up.

"Ugly. Now you can't go on the date."

"Amir, calm down. I'm going on the date and you can't stop me." He knelt and hugged Amir. "I promise that I'll come back."

"Do you promise not to fall in love?"

The insecurity in Amir's voice made Triton frown. "Amir, what's wrong?"

"I, I just want you to be in love with Father . . . He loves you a lot, Triton. I know you don't believe us, but he does! And, and I do too, and if you fall in love with someone else you might leave . . ."

As Amir started crying Triton held him closer, rubbing his back. "Oh, Amir, that's not going to happen. I don't love your father but I don't think I'm going to fall in love with Ralph. I'm not going to try to, at least."

"Well . . ."

"Look, it's quarter 'till. I need to get going. I'll be back, Amir, I promise."

"You won't have sex with him?"

Triton laughed. "No, Amir, I won't. And that's a promise I *know* I can keep. I won't have sex on the first date."

"I hope it's the *last* date," Amir muttered as he followed Triton out the door.

"Maybe." Kissing the child goodbye nd promising to wake him up after he got home, Triton got into his car and drove off.

* * *

Sacred Grounds wasn't a place Triton visited very often. The small coffee house was where all the artsy people went to study, or talk, or do whatever artsy people did. Triton didn't feel very artsy and wasn't taking any art classes, so he had never really felt the need to go there. So why was he there tonight? To have a social life. Maybe.

'He's not going to show.' The young man wasn't sure how he could be so sure of it, but he knew that Ralph wasn't going to show up. He stood outside for a few minutes, looking at the small garden that had a bush that had been shaped into a wicker chair for sitting, wondering how long it took to do that and knowing Ralph wasn't going to show up. He sighed. 'I don't fit in here. Everyone is so . . . artsy. I'm not artsy. I don't know how to interact with people. Why am I here, then?' Because Ralph was good at persuasion and attractive, and once Triton's hormones were added to the equation he was helpless. 'I could be playing Solitaire while Amir hangs on me. But no, I'm here, cold, waiting for someone who's never going to show up.' Triton rolled his eyes. 'So much for growing a backbone.'

"Nice garden, isn't it?" The voice at Triton's elbow startled him and he turned sharply, raising his hand to ward off whoever was behind him. Ralph caught his hand and arched one eyebrow as a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "What did I tell you about hitting people?" As Triton flushed, Ralph bowed slightly and kissed the back of his hand. "You're too jumpy. What, were you expecting me not to show?"

Triton pursed his lips and tugged. "May I have my hand back, please?"

"Well, since you said please, yes." Getting his hand back wasn't much of an accomplishment, since Ralph took his elbow. "Shall we go in?"

Triton fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I don't like being touched."

"You never seem to complain." Ralph *had* a point. "Would you like something to eat? Or drink? It's on me."

The Latin man had the urge to order the most expensive thing he could find, but ignored it. It wasn't Ralph's fault he was annoying. Well, it *was*, but it wasn't the tall man's fault he annoyed *Triton*. "No, thank you. I'm fine." Ralph was giving him another almost-smile as they sat. Triton ignored it and watched the band set up. "What's their name?"

"Hm? Oh, the band?" Triton nodded. "Samhain Faire."

"Sovven Fair?"

Ralph shook his head. "Samhain Faire. Big ess, little ey, em, eitch, ey, ai, en, space, big eff, little ey, ai, ar, iy. I've also heard Samhain pronounced 'sah-win' 'sah-weyn.' I know the lead singer."

"What language is it?"

"Samhain is Gaelic. It's the pagan New Year, also called Halloween. As for the band, they sing in English, Japanese and Gaelic."

"Oh." Triton looked around, then down at the table. "You . . . you like Celtic music?"

He could hear Ralph's smile. "Yeah. Samhain Faire does a lot of Celtic stuff, and some goth music. Basically, whatever catches their fancy. It's a good band to listen to if you like a wide variety of music."

Triton was saved from having to make more conversation because just then the young woman who had been fiddling with a bass guitar straightened and spoke into her mic.

"Good evening. We're Samhain Faire and our first song is three hundred years old. It was done originally by the goth-pagan band Inkubus Sukkubus, with k's rather than c's, in nineteen . . . When was it, Davey?" A blond man looked up and shrugged. "We don't know. Nineteen ninety-five or six or something. We hope that none of you are particularly religious in the Christian ways, since this song kind of rips on the Christian religion. But everything in it is true." She grinned. "And without further ado . . ."

Her voice trailed off and there was silence for a few moments, then she started singing.

"Forget not the days of old/And recall the stories told/Of the burnings and the screams./Do they ever haunt your dreams?" She tossed her hair out of her face, a smirk on her features. "There was a time when freedom died./It was an age of genocide./Inquisition at the door;/Church of Rome in a holy war./They broke children on the wheel/In the madness of their zeal./In the shadow of their wake/The innocent burning at the stake." The drums were pounding out a dark tune. "Children resist/A return to the Burning Times./People be wise/To the power of their lies./Be not fooled,/As those who were fooled before./Children, oh children,/Be free, be wild."

Triton glanced at Ralph, but the older man was intent on the music.

"They came to bring the 'good news',/To burn witches, pagans, Jews./Said they were the Shepherd's sheep./Whipped old women through the street./Then the turning of the tide,/From the truth they could not hide./Now the darkest age has passed./Goddess has returned at last!/Children resist/A return to the Burning Times./People be wise/To the power of their lies./Be not fooled,/As those who were fooled before./Children, oh children,/Be free, be wild." During the instrumental break, Triton's eyes were wide. He'd never heard such an attack on the Inquisition. But it was understandable, especially from a pagan band. "Children, oh children,/Be free, be wild./Children resist/A return to the Burning Times./People be wise/To the power of their lies./Be not fooled,/As those who were fooled before./Children, oh children,/Be free, be wild." There was another instrumental break. "Children, oh children,/Be free . . ."

As her voice faded out, Triton turned to Ralph. He barely heard the woman thank the audience as they all clapped. "That was . . ."

"Yeah, Larissa's an experience. The song's great, too. I like alto voices." Ralph grinned.

"This next song is somewhat calmer. It's an old sea chanty."

"Still . . ." Triton shook his head. "Those were powerful lyrics."

"Really? What do they mean?" The way Ralph was grinning, Triton wasn't sure if he was teasing or not.

"That the Inquisition was started by a bunch of intolerant religious fanatics and involved lots of politics and land-grabs and someone got fed up with it, I guess."

Ralph chuckled. "Do they have any psychological meaning? Come on, *you're* the psychology student."

Triton raised one eyebrow. "Oh, please. Don't tease me. I'm only a freshman. The class I'm taking now isn't going to tell me *that*."

That made his companion chuckle. "I suppose so. All right, I won't tease you. I got you to go on a date with me and I'd hate to have it end with you upset. So tell me, Triton. How *does* a child of the circus get to be a psychologist?"

Triton ignored the continued gentle teasing and shrugged. "Well . . . I like to know what drives people, what makes them do what they do." He carefully did *not* think of anything that had happened more than five minutes ago. "I like the circus, or did, but it wasn't where I wanted to spend the rest of my life." It held too many bad memories. "And besides, psychology interests me."

If what Triton was saying bored Ralph, he didn't show it. He looked interested. "Really. Well, that's more than what *I'm* doing. I'm just an Art Major."

"I like your art," Triton offered shyly. Ralph was so different than Quatre, but in some ways they were a lot alike. They were both trying to get him to open up. The difference was, Triton didn't like Quatre. And he wasn't attracted to him. The young man ignored the tiny voice that told him he was lying to himself and instead focused his attention on Ralph. "And maybe next year I'll be able to tell you why you drew, painted or sculpted it."

Ralph raised an eyebrow, then laughed. "Maybe, Triton. Maybe." He shook his head, still chuckling. "I'm keep guessing when you'll decide to loosen up, and you keep catching me by surprise." He stood up. "I'm thirsty. Would you like something?" Triton nodded and took Ralph's hand when the older man held it out, letting it go once he was standing. "You know, if I wasn't so sure I'd get smacked I'd put my arm around your waist."

Triton smiled and bit his lower lip, looking down. "I don't mind," he murmured. He shivered slightly as Ralph slid his arm around his waist, pulling him closer to the taller man.

"What would you like to drink?"

"Mm . . . A hot chai."

"I like those. They're a little too watery for me, though, but hey, that's just me." Ralph ordered Triton his drink and got some apricot juice for himself, then followed Triton back to their seats. "Where are you from, Triton?"

"The circus." Triton said it blandly and Ralph just looked at him, frowning a bit. When Triton started to smirk the older man started laughing.

"Well, I asked. All right, what country? Or colony?"

"My parents were from Portugal." With a sigh Triton looked down.

"Where are they now? Still with the circus?"

"They're dead," the young man said shortly. He crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his head.

"Oh. Oh, I'm . . . I didn't mean to upset you." There was concern in Ralph's voice.

"No, it's all right. They died a long time ago. I was six." Almost a year after James had gotten a hold of him. If they hadn't have died, maybe things would have been different. Triton didn't know, but he knew he missed them.

"I see. Mine died when I was about eight."

That made Triton look up. Ralph shrugged and smiled faintly. "The pain never goes away, but you deal with it better the older you get." He sighed and covered Triton's hand gently with his own. "You all right? I really didn't mean to upset you."

"I'll be fine," the young man whispered. He offered a small but real smile and sipped his drink. It hurt, thinking about his parents. They'd been so loving and kind, so wonderful. Triton had been devastated when they'd died. He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. This is supposed to be fun, not depressing."

"Yeah, but I don't want to upset you later by making assumptions."

"Hey, Ralph! Get that nice ass up here and dance!"

The owner of said rear end laughed and shook his head. After a few more proddings from Larissa he leaned toward Triton. "Do you dance?"

"I can, yes. What type of dance, though?"

"Irish jig?"

Triton slowly nodded. "I know a couple . . ."

Ralph grinned and stood, holding his hand out. "Wouldst thou likest to dance, then?" His eyes sparkled.

Triton's own eyes went wide and he shook his head. "No, please, I'm not a people-person and there's not much room . . ."

"Oh, come on, sweet-heart," Larissa cut in, grinning. "We've got an awesome song for you two to dance to! Please?"

After Larissa and Ralph had the whole coffee shop urging Triton to dance he relented, shoulders drooping. "All right, all right, I'll dance." He was pulled up and swung around as the band started up a lively tune, emitting a startled squawk.

"For to see Mad Tom of Bedlam/Ten thousand miles I travel./Mad Maudlen goes on dirty toes/For to save her shoes from gravel./Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, bedlam boys are bonny./For they all go bare/And they live by the air/And they want no drink nor money./I went down to Satan's kitchen/For to get me food one morning/And there I saw souls piping hot/Oh, on the spit a-turning./Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, bedlam boys are bonny./For they all go bare/And they live by the air/And they want no drink nor money./My staff has murdered giants,/And me bag a long knife carries/To cut mince pies from children's thighs/With which to feed the faeries./Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, beldam boys are bonny/For they all go bare/And they live by the air/And they want no drink nor money./I know more than Apollo/For often he lies sleeping./I seen the stars of mortal wars/And the wounded, welk and weeping/ Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, beldam boys are bonny/For they all go bare/And they live by the air/And they want no drink nor money./With a host of furious fancies/Where of I am comander/With a flaming spear and a horse of air/Through the wilderness I wander./Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, beldam boys are bonny/For they all go bare/And they live by the air/And they want no drink nor money./No gypsy, slut or doxy/Will take me mad Tom from me./I'll dance all night and with stars fight/And the fray will well become me./Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, beldam boys are bonny/For they all go bare/And they live by the air/And they want no drink nor money./A knight of ghosts and shadows/I summoned am to tourney./Ten leagues beyond the wild world's end/Methinks it is no journey./Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, beldam boys are bonny/For they all go bare/And they live by the air/And they want no drink nor money./For to see Mad Tom of Bedam/Ten thousand years I travel./Mad Maudlen go on dirty toes/For to save her shoes from gravel./Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, beldam boys are bonny/For they all go bare/And they live by the air/And they want no drink nor money./"

Throughout the song Triton was dipped, whirled, and occasionally tossed in the air. He entrusted his safety to Ralph, praying that the man didn't drop him, but Ralph was as good a dancer as he was an artist. Dancing was rather like performing in the circus, flying through the air during one of his flips. It gave Triton a sense of freedom that he loved. After the last beat had faded away Ralph set Triton down and the young man clung to him. His knees were shaking and he was laughing.

"Oh, God, I haven't done that in so long . . ." As Ralph helped him sit and the patrons of the coffee house clapped, Triton covered his red face. "That was fun."

Ralph nodded, one arm still around Triton's shoulders. "Yeah, dancing's fun." Both men were breathing heavily. "You are *so* flexible!"

Triton covered another laugh. "I can do a triple-axle flip from a moving motorcycle to a wire thirty feet up, without a safety net." He laughed again at the dumbfounded look on Ralph's face. "What? Come on, Ralph, I was raised by the circus. You think I *wouldn't* be flexible?"

"Well, yeah, uhm . . . Damn, I'd like to see that." Ralph's eyes were wide. "Well. And how did you get into Joiston?"

"My extraordinary acrobatic skills, or so they said. As long as I joined the gymnastics team, I'd be in."

"At least they didn't make you play football."

"True." They talked some more, and danced some more, and before Triton knew it, it was half past midnight. "Oh, shoot. I've got school in the morning."

Ralph sighed and nodded, standing as Triton stood. "And I've got . . . well, nothing I *have* to do, but things I'd *like* to do." He offered his arm to Triton and the young man took it, smiling. "May I walk you to your car?"

"I'd like that," Triton nodded. Once there he leaned against the driver side door, looking up at Ralph with a shy smile. "Well . . ."

"Yeah." Ralph leaned down, bringing one hand up to gently cup Triton's cheek. He brushed him thumb over the Latin man's lower lip gently. "Goodnight, Triton. Call me tomorrow, if you want."

"Maybe. Goodnight, Ralph." Ralph smiled and walked away, leaving Triton to shiver with delight behind him, his lower lip tingling. After a bit he got in his car and drove back to Quatre's, opening the door quietly. Quatre was pacing back and forth in front of the door, talking quietly into a phone. It sounded like a business call so Triton left him alone, hurrying upstairs to Amir's room.

Quatre watched Triton come in and go upstairs, eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't like at all that the young man had gone out on a date. It irked him something awful. He sighed and turned back to his conversation.

"Iria, just tell Mr. Honsin that we'll have to reschedule the meeting because I've got something very important to do."

"And what's that? He'll want to know."

Quatre smiled. "I've got to spend time with my son. I'm sure he'll understand."

"All right. Say hello to the little imp for me, will you?"

"I will. Goodbye, Iria." They hung up and Quatre slowly made his way to his room. Triton was just entering his own room and he looked away, not meeting his teacher's gaze. The Arab sighed. "Goodnight, Triton." He didn't get a response and hadn't been expecting one, so it was no surprise when he didn't *get* one.

Duo was lounging in his bed. "Damn, the new Dean is hot. Don't you think?"

"Do you think I care?"

Duo grinned. "I think you do. And I *know* she thinks *you're* hot. Did you see the way she smiled at you today? Mm-mm-mm! You're pimping, Quatre."

As he undressed and got into bed, Quatre shook his head. "Whatever." Duo immediately curled up next to him.

"You always say that when you're wrong and don't want to admit it, you know. But anyway, I get to be top tomorrow night."

"All right." Quatre sighed and snuggled closer to his friend, drifting into a troubled sleep.