(no subject)

[3nanashi]

Shuttle rides are boring. This is a fact of life; every traveler who's ever been on an inter-colony or atmo-breaking trip knows this. But it is, perhaps, especially boring when you know exactly what this engine can do (not as much as many machines, but a lot more than this commercial pilot is asking of it) and which trajectories it could take to L4 (several, of which this is the most staid that has any speed at all). Trowa keeps himself occupied with his computer, and tries not to spend too much time mentally calculating alternative routes and contingency plans for various attacks that will never come. He doesn't expect them, but it's something to do. And it never hurts to be prepared.

When they dock, he waits through the excessively slow cross-check -- double-checks and triple-checks are how you keep your equipment in order and yourself alive, but this crew's clearly never done this under fire -- and then slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and files dutifully off the shuttle with the other passengers. Time for the Immigration And Visitor Registration paperwork. Trowa tells them the truth, nowadays, although occasionally in rather targeted wording.

All that's ahead after that is a much shorter (and, privately, less irritating) trip by ground transport to the rich district of this colony. He'll call Quatre when he's close.

Comments

[3nanashi]

"Yeah."

As the evidence suggests!

[04_after]

Quatre's smile quirks as he accepts a set of keys from Mr. Kalns with a polite acknowledgement, and opens the door. (It opens inwards, so he holds it for Trowa to walk through first.)

One of the cars has been pulled out, already, and is waiting in the drive. None of the Winner cars are particularly eye-catching, but this one (while of good quality and design) is perhaps even less eye-catching than most.

[3nanashi]

Trowa remains quietly bemused by the inefficiency of the social expectation that rich people not get their own cars out of garages.

He doesn't say that, any more than he has on any of the other occasions that this has happened. Instead, he heads for the car, and its passenger seat. (Silently, he approves of the choice of vehicle. Trowa is, and will always be, a mechanic and pilot at heart -- and one who understands the uses of both conspicuousness and discretion.)

[04_after]

Quatre follows him, getting into the driver's seat.

There's no one in the drive; Mr. Kalns is behind a closed door. He reaches over lightly with his left hand to slip it under Trowa's right, raising it to press his lips against the skin below Trowa's knuckles. He only holds it for a moment more, before disentangling his hand to start the car.

But he's pretty pleased.

[3nanashi]

Trowa is faintly surprised by the gesture; not at all displeased, though.

(Quatre can be trusted to be aware of whether they're in privacy or not. So.)

[04_after]

It's not particularly far to the restaurant; not particularly close, either, as it's nearer to the college than the residential sector the main Winner home is in.

There's valet-only parking for the block of restaurants they're going to. Quatre pockets the ticket and smiles at Trowa; the initial entry way opens into a courtyard, but they're quickly in front of the restaurant.

"Quatre, for two," he says politely to the hostess, in Arabic, and they're quickly seated.

The restaurant is in light wood and blue tones, with an airy floorplan. Their seats still manage to have a good coverage of the room, between them, which is an advantage Quatre has found to eating in restaurants with their seating arrangements available online.

[3nanashi]

The food is good. Unsurprisingly.

The hostess and waitress both recognize Quatre; they're discreet about it, but it's still easily apparent if you're looking. (Trowa's always looking.) Most of the diners don't, though. And this is indeed a casual restaurant. Quatre, despite having dressed down from his usual, is one of the better-dressed people in the room.

They're not in a hurry, and the restaurant isn't terribly crowded. So it's a long meal, by Trowa's standards, but all the same it's not too late when they head back out.

[04_after]

"Would you like to look around?" Quatre asks, politely, hands tucked lightly into his trouser pockets. (It's always a bit of a novelty for him, no matter how often he does it, wearing pants that come with pockets.)

[3nanashi]

Trowa slants a glance at him.

It's a nice night -- as it reliably is, on a climate-controlled colony with no rain scheduled -- but he's been in this neighborhood before. It's not new to him.

(And Quatre is genuinely willing, but he's also being polite.)

"Maybe another day."

They have two weeks. There's time for rainchecks.

[04_after]

Quatre tilts his head, and smiles brightly. It's nice to have time.

They pick up the car with a very short wait, and they're halfway back to the Winner home when Quatre reaches over with his left hand to brush his fingers gently over Trowa's wrist.

"I'm --," he breaks off, before smiling softly, glancing quickly to Trowa. "I'm glad."

[3nanashi]

Trowa glances over when Quatre's hand shifts towards him.

He moves his own hand when Quatre's lifts away, just enough to brush his thumb lightly against Quatre's fingertips. He doesn't say anything, because he doesn't need to.

[04_after]

Quatre relaxes slightly, and his smile warms, as he returns his gaze fully to the road and his hand to the steering wheel. (He was able to watch it through his peripheral vision, and there was no need for the second hand; still, it's wise not to take too many liberties with one's driving technique.)

It doesn't take long to arrive back home, and in the hallway, once he's left the keys on the rack for Mr. Kalns (who has retired for the evening), he glances slightly at Trowa.

There's more noise in the sunroom, now, though the door is mostly closed. Quatre maybe should make an appearance.

"Should I meet you upstairs in 20?" he offers, uncertain. He doesn't quite say it, but there is an unspoken question as to where, exactly, upstairs this will be.

[3nanashi]

"If you want."

"I don't need to change, though."

This is to say, Trowa's willing to part ways and meet up in a bit if Quatre would rather put in his obligatory family time alone, but he doesn't mind short-term socializing.

He likes most of Quatre's family well enough. There are a few he finds particularly congenial, but none he actually dislikes.

[04_after]

"I think," Quatre says, after a moment, "for discretion's sake, we ought to meet up later."

He knows his family's perceptiveness; he knows how hard it will be for him to not spend the whole time wishing he and Trowa were alone, if Trowa is there.

Sometimes Quatre is a coward.

[3nanashi]

Trowa's smile is very, very faint; it's still a visible one, though.

"All right."

He can manage to kill 20 minutes on his own.

[04_after]

Quatre smiles back, and lays the back of his fingers to the right of Trowa's sternum, opening his hand as he strokes it over the fabric to Trowa's shoulder. He lets out a quiet breath, and settles.

His smile brightens, and squeezes Trowa's shoulder lightly, amiably; "I'll give them your regrets," he says, false-solemnly. "See you soon."

He tucks his hands back into his pockets, tilts his head at Trowa, and heads into the sunroom, closing the door behind him.

[3nanashi]

Trowa doesn't bother to voice any amusement or agreement, though both are there; Quatre knows.

He does, however, head for the upstairs elevator when the door has closed. He'll take the time to unpack as much as he's going to, and then check his email and suchlike.

Quatre is usually prompt, but the influence of nieces and nephews means it might be a bit more than 20 minutes.

[04_after]

He's a bit behind schedule; after disengaging himself from the now-huge puzzle the kids were working on, he spent a couple of minutes talking to Cheche.

He hums as he walks up the stairs; straightening his shirt because it wrinkled as he was bent over the puzzle on the floor.

He ducks his head into the third floor of the library, uncertain as to if Trowa will be there or still in his room. He smiles, spotting Trowa on the couch.

"Hey," he says, as he walks in.

[3nanashi]

Trowa looks up from his laptop in greeting.

It looks very nearly the same as all his other expressions; it's affectionate, all the same.

"Anything eventful?"

He can pretty much guess the answer from Quatre's mood and bearing, but sometimes Quatre likes to ramble or be amused at his family anyway.

[04_after]

"Mm," Quatre says, thoughtfully, raising his right hand so that his fingers are curled right below his bottom lip in thought; the gesture is slightly overdone. "I am, I believe, passing along an invitation to a tea party tomorrow. It's supposed to be very elegant, according to Nada."

[3nanashi]

If Trowa were a normal person, he would make an appropriately solemn face in response.

Because he's Trowa, he looks . . . well . . . like Trowa always does.

But he's amused!

"I'm sure she's a good hostess."

She's a Winner. They learn these things young and thoroughly.

[04_after]

"I'll pass along your regards," Quatre's smile pulls at the side of his mouth.

"Are you busy?" he asks, politely, leaning against the wall by the side of his door. Trowa could be doing something important!

Quatre can easily unlock his door from here.

[3nanashi]

Trowa doesn't laugh.

But the brief flare of amusement is (very faintly) visible anyway.

"No," he says, and closes his laptop to stand.

A couple of steps carry him around the coffee table and towards Quatre. (And closer into Quatre's personal space than he strictly needs to be. Call it a signal.)

[04_after]

Quatre smiles as he straightens, unlocking the door with his left hand.

"Good," he says quietly, tilting his head towards Trowa with a slight smirk, before stepping back into the suite.

[3nanashi]

Trowa's eyes warm with amusement, just slightly.

He follows Quatre in. He sets his closed laptop tidily on the entryway table; there's plenty of room, since it's the sort of decoratively placed table that contains a pen-holder and not much else.