Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Hokkyokusei: The North Star ❯ Whoever Wanted Normality? ( Chapter 6 )

Whoever Wanted Normality?

He didn't know exactly when it had started, but he knew that had been after their strangely successful dual performance (in which, the audience must've thought that Cala's lucky save was part of the act). Both he and Cala had made a silent agreement never to bring up their last 'conversation' over the act ever again, though he sometimes wondered just what she had meant. The troupe had been making quick progress to the next major city with no extra shows in between, so everyone was utilizing the free time wisely and creating and practicing new routines. Though everything else had hit a scary sort of norm in daily routines.

His shopping obsessed sister and Cala had gone on about a dozen mall-raiding trips together, searching for the right ring, right veil, right who knew what, which made them fast friends. He still didn't understand how women could connect while running around a shopping mall, which, in his opinion was too crowded, too noisy, and insane. What was the point of buying clothes on sale when you didn't need them at all? He'd stopped voicing that opinion, however, because when he did he got a lecture about the wonders of the fashion world for about an hour and he hated that.

Cathy had begun to call her beloved fiancé long distance everyday for about two hours after they had eaten their evening meal, leaving Trowa and Cala alone to their own devices during that time. He remembered that it had been her to make the first move in initiating conversation with him.

It was when Cathy had just disappeared after washing the dinner dishes and Trowa had collapsed on the couch to possibly take a quick nap, when Cala had sat down with him. She had set down two steaming mugs of hot cocoa and shot a warm smile over at him. She'd started talking about how she used to do that with her friends: chat over hot chocolate. He immediately thought that he would be bored or offended by a close conversation with her, but was proved wrong. She'd neither asked personal questions nor talked about stupid feminine things. She'd surprised him by confessing a passion for sailing. They'd then talked about their hobbies and passions, getting into deeper and deeper subjects. He'd found that it was very easy to talk to her, more so even than talking to his sister. He began to explain things about himself that he'd never told anyone and told her much of his past. Before they knew it, over three hours had gone by and Cathy came upon them sharing an afghan and talking to each other on opposite sides of the couch, hot chocolate long gone.

And so the cycle began.

Cathy would lock herself in her bedroom for a couple hours for a romantic chat with Quatre, and Cala and Trowa would hold their evening conversations or debates, as they often turned out to be, in the living room. They were very different individuals, they reasoned one night, so it was natural for them to have clashing opinions and therefore it often turned into arguments or debates. Catherine had once called it matrimony fighting, but Cala had shut her up with a pillow in the face.

He found that Cala was quite intelligent, but very opinionated in certain subjects. She wowed him with her expertise in the technical area of machines and computers. He could talk to her about his experience as one of the G pilots and though, she had seemed strangely anxious at the beginning, she empathized somehow.

When everything had finally begun to settle in, that was when the trouble started…

"You know, Trowa, I've been thinking." Cala stared pensively at him, the window of the truck had been opened and a smooth breeze blew her hair back. Trowa angled a glance at her, taking his eyes off the road for just long enough to register the knowledge that no woman, besides the one sitting in the passenger's seat next to him, could have looked better with windblown hair.

"Wow, that's a first."

"Oh, now I'm hurt. I hope you can see the hurt."

"Yeah, the tears are just raining down."

"Hmph, that doesn't deserve a reply." She sniffed delicately, making Trowa want to grin, and continued with her 'thoughts'. "Well, I was just thinking that with all the long distance calls that Cathy's been making, the phone bills been getting pretty big, don't you think?"

"Yeah, so?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wince at the mincing of words. She was always telling him that he never spoke more than one sentence at a time and it was beginning to bug her. He'd never told her that he did it just to annoy her.

"Well, don't you think that she should have noticed it by now?"

"Yeah, so?"

Another wince on her part. "Don't you think that if she'd noticed she would cut back a little?"

"What does this have to do with you?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that the last time I tried to call out, the telephone company wouldn't let me, because the bill's over the limit."

"Ouch."

"Is that all you're going to say? Aren't you going to say something to her? I can't, it would be so rude. I mean, she's your sister. You've got the most influence as a blood relative."

"You missed something, wise one, she's my older sister. I have no power over the years that she's got reigning over me."

"Oh, come off it. Fine, whatever you say, stupid."

"If I may reiterate myself, ouch."

"Oh! Is the poor baby's feelings hurt?"

"Yes, very hurt."

Their fairly limited conversation was interrupted by a frizzy-haired, funny looking Cathy, who stuck her head through a small window between the two and squinted into the bright light of the afternoon sunshine.

"Would you two stop your bantering. I'm trying to find a decent pair of shoes back here and your noises are bothering me."

"Ah, speaking of the devil." Cala's blue eyes brightened as she turned to her copper haired friend. "Cathy, your dear little brother and I were just talking about the enlarged phone bill that's been haunting the lines and cutting off all access to the outside world."

"So use the net, dear little Cala." Catherine sighed in frustration and suddenly set a glare on an exasperated Cala. "Have you borrowed my black sandals again?"

"The net does not serve adequately in this particular case, you phone demon. What are you going to do about it?" When Catherine only glared at her more she sighed and answered her question. "And no, I have not 'borrowed' those sandals 'again'. That first time was for the elephant rider, Jean. She had a hot date and didn't have shoes for her slinky black dress."

These words just deepened the frown on Cathy's forehead. "Well, I hope that she doesn't have another hot date tonight and borrowed my shoes again, because I've got a hot date and need those shoes!" The two women had by chance or on purpose completely excluded Trowa from ever entering the conversation as they had turned the topic onto clothes and wardrobe. He didn't mind so much and was more than a little amused at their antics and funny gestures as they argued with each other.

"Tonight?" Surprise sobered Cala's voice and her brows drew together ever so slightly, a sign of genuine concern that caught Trowa's attention. "I didn't know that you had a date with Quatre tonight."

"Of course, tonight. I forgot to tell you. Tonight, he's taking me to the opera house, which is why I bought that beautiful lilac ball gown. Versace design and make that cost a fortune, but is so worth it. The one with almost no back and you said the color accented my eyes." His sister's enthusiasm about a dress caused a prick of annoyance as he searched the reflection of Cala's face in the rearview mirror. Her babbling was holding up an explanation for the obvious worry in Cala's expression. "He also said that he wanted me to meet someone, though he wouldn't say who. It's a surprise. I hope it's not someone boring again, like those old executives of the people that Quatre works with."

Trowa could've sworn he had seen Cala's face pale, but its color had returned so quickly that it might have just been a trick of the sunlight. "Uh, why don't you just wear your white pumps?"

"Cala, dear, have you lost your sanity? This is a formal occasion! I can't wear white and lilac at night. Especially at the opera house. I'll stand out like a sore thumb." This time he was sure he saw Cala gulp nervously, after glancing away from his obviously excited sister. But she seemed to regain her composure, giving Catherine her full attention and fashion wisdom, like she always did.

"But that's a good thing. You'll stick out and everyone will see how beautiful you look in that dress. That's the point isn't it? Wear the diamond and pearl necklace set in white gold that Quatre gave you the other day."

"Hmm, I can see that." Cathy seemed to think for a moment, pursing her lips in concentration. "But still, white pumps?"

"Then try for the silver strappy sandals. And you can borrow a pair of earrings from me. They're zirconium, but they look real enough and they'll go wonderfully with your beautiful new engagement ring." Cathy held up her hand to show off her newly bought diamond ring, square cut and set in platinum. Quatre and she had gone shopping before they'd left town and Catherine never took the thing off. "I'll do your hair, which is, by the way, completely frizzballed right now. Oh, and when exactly is it? I want to watch a movie tonight and I don't want you to interrupt it with your whining like you always do."

"Hmph! I can't help the humidity. And I do not interrupt your movies." She pouted sulkily, then smiled slyly. "But I'll let you do my hair and face at six for forgiveness. Quatre's going to pick me up at seven-thirty. The opera's going to begin at eight o'clock precisely. It's in Italian and I can't wait!"

Cala laughed prettily, her patented laugh the same as ever, smoothing out the small creases marring her forehead. "Cathy, you are never going to change. Fine, six it is. And do you even know Italian?" Catherine smiled at the sound and pulled a hand through her unruly, sleep tasseled hair.

"Not the language, but the shoes are fantastic." She rolled her eyes in exasperation as Cala cracked up at her 'blonde' moment and continued as if her friend was not gasping for breath between lengthy laughs. "Quatre will translate for me, or so he says. I told him he had to or else I would refuse to meet this person of his. Well, as you're not fit for intelligent conversation as of now, I think I'm going to soak in the tub for about an hour."

That was enough to make Cala sober up and stop laughing hysterically. She rolled her eyes and muttered grumpily to Trowa, "Now she's after the water supply. What next? I hope she ends up looking like a prune after five minutes." Cathy tried to look menacing, but it was ruined by the twitching of the corners of her mouth.

"What was that, Cala dear? I couldn't hear you."

"Oh nothing, Cathy dove." Cala batted her eyelashes sweetly. "Have a good bath."

Cathy's grinning face disappeared from the hole and Trowa shook his head to hide his glance at Cala's expression. The slight crease in her forehead had reappeared and she was staring out the window as if deep in thought. He decided to keep the conversation going, as if he hadn't noticed anything. His voice and expression were deadpan as they always were. "If you two get any younger, I'll have to start diapering you." Cala's attention snapped back to him and she smirked.

"Oh, well, then get the baby powder ready, Mr. I'm-so-much-older-than-you."

Trowa smirked in reply, but didn't say anything. Cala sighed at his lack of speech and turned the car radio on. Before long her clear soprano voice was singing along with the catchy tune. She was back to normal, he thought silently, but there had been a lapse and that was enough him suspicious. There had been something wrong and he had all intentions to find out what.