Work Text:
Somehow, C.C. had manipulated him into taking her to the carnival. He honestly couldn't recall what had happened in between being rudely interrupted while trying to read a book and baking under the sun while waiting in an absurdly long line for the ticket booth. It all happened so fast. He vaguely remembers fighting with C.C. over who was going to drive (her haphazard driving and crowded areas do not mesh well) but not much else.
A voice came from beside him, "You look like you're melting."
Normally, he wouldn't have taken the bait but it was sweltering and he just wanted to be home, in his comfy, air conditioned living room. "Well maybe I wouldn't if I was dressed appropriately," he snapped.
"You should have changed. You normally check the weather report every time you have to be out in it for more than thirty seconds."
"And who's fault is it that I didn't have time to check?!"
"It's your turn." He only then noticed that he had moved forward in the queue in a while. He made eye contact with a less than amused ticket booth employee. They were indeed first. Mildly embarrassed, he quickly whipped out his wallet and paid for their entry.
Now that they had their tickets and were out of the immediate vicinity of several screaming children, he had less to complain about. Not that C.C. was actually listening. She was too busy checking her pockets for something. Why were they even here? She had said something about food but she usually just ordered from Pizza Hut so why did she need to come to the carnival? Better yet, why was there a carnival in the winter? He knows this country has very mild winters, if they have one at all, but isn't this a bit premature after just a week of no rain?
He just wanted to go home. They could sit in the sun room if she wanted to be in the sun so bad. They could go another day. A less humid day. Any other day.They even said on the radio in the car that it was the hottest day the area had seen during "winter" in twenty years, so what was so darn special about a dirty carnival today?
His complaints had died down to angry grumbles and to any passerby, he would have looked as indignant as he thought was warranted. However, he wasn't completely opposed to the outing if he was honest with himself. He was actually a bit flustered and looking forward to an unofficial date with the witch. Of course, he would sooner die (again) than tell her so.
As expected, Lelouch spent the majority of his time watching C.C. consume copious amounts of suspicious carnival food and significantly lighten his wallet. He has no interest in suspicious carnival food and attempts to keep track of her rampant spending while sipping from a bottled water.
A normal person would take it easy after eating enough food to feed a village. C.C. was far from normal though. She drags him into the nearest line for a ride once she throws away the last greasy container. He sees the name of the ride and pales a bit. "The Orbiter" looks like it could snap his neck with how fast it jerks passengers in a circular motion. The ride wasn't what made him pale though. The thought of riding it with his companion did. The probable mess she would make of his clothes frightened him more than any ride could.
Former emperor or not, he attempts a strategic retreat but the iron grip on his wrist stops him. He has no choice but to buckle himself in when C.C. seats him in a compartment and closes the safety bar behind her. To her credit though, once the ride is over, she doesn't even look nauseous. He sighed in relief far too soon though, because she had them get on several other rides that may have even made his stomach flip.
After the fifth ride, he demands a bathroom break. C.C. halts and releases his wrist. He gets a brilliant idea while petulantly rubbing the newly-freed wrist. He sees her eyeing another food stand and calls out to her before she can get in line, "C.C."
She doesn't turn toward him but hums noncommittally to let him know she is listening.
He continues, "We are running low on funds. When I come back from the bathroom, you may pick one more ride or food product. Either or. Not both." At his ultimatum, she actually turns to face him. The slight frown and minimal crease in her brow are her equivalent of a grimace. Attempting to put on a stern front, he turns toward the bathroom and walks off before she says anything.
He called it a "bathroom" but honestly, it was nothing more than an outhouse. In the time it took to sanitize it to a point that he could lie to himself that it was clean and do his business, C.C. had acquired three food products, a shoddy picnic table, and a satisfied grin. The sight wouldn't have aroused much suspicion if he wasn't the one carrying their wallet.
Lelouch makes his way over to her and stops in front of her. In lieu of an explanation, she tosses a fat leather wallet onto the table in front of him. "C.C., what the hell is this?"
"That, Lelouch, is a wallet."
He pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from snapping at her and replies, "I can see that."
"Then why ask?" He doesn't even dignify that with a response. While glaring into frustratingly nonchalant gold eyes, he realizes that she pick-pocketed someone.
He pauses.
Then he menacingly hisses at her, "Are you stupid?! That's illegal!"
She doesn't reply and she doesn't need to. Her raised brow and deadpan eyes convey her opinion on that statement quite well. A former terrorist is telling me about the law?
The irony isn't lost on him but clearly she doesn't understand the magnitude of what she has just done. "Being arrested would defeat the purpose of being in hiding, wouldn't it?!"
She sighs and replies, "Listen child, I'm far more experienced at breaking the law than you. There is nothing to worry about as I won't get caught."
Angry at being patronized again, he fires back "Are there even any laws you haven't broken?"
"Actually, there are laws that I am compelled to obey."
"And what laws are those?." The sarcasm must have been palpable.
"The laws of physics." He doesn't reply and she takes that as her queue to continue, "Bad things would happen if I broke those, Lelouch. Didn't they teach you that in school?"
He still hasn't gotten used to how she flawlessly rips the rug out from under his feet. He hates being outdone but he's still stuck on her first statement so all he can vocalize are unfinished phrases, "How would you even-" "Why would-" "When-"
"You're supposed to finish your sentences or your audience will have no idea what you're talking about Lelouch. Really now, were you paying attention at all in school?"
Its as if she knows exactly what combination of buttons reverts him back to a childish emotional state that has him throwing things at the cause of his anger. Unfortunately, the current cause is well used to this behavior and easily dodges the leftover popcorn bag he lobs at her. Even that had been a concession on her part, as the paper bag did not make the best projectile and combined with his lest than stellar aim, it may have swiped her hair if she hadn't leaned an inch to the left. Her smirk makes him reach for the next closest projectile but he stops when he feels the soft, pleasantly cool fingers touch his hand. His cheeks warm as she starts leading him away from the table.
As much as she irritates him to no end, she is also the only one that knows everything about him. She's capable of fueling his inner turmoil with a few words but she's also able to calm him without saying anything at all.
How many years have passed since they met? He still doesn't know as much about her as he would like. Her aversion to revealing information about herself is just one of her many frustrating qualities but her steadfast loyalty and occasional tenderness make up up for most of them.
Now that he thinks about it, the amount of confidence and strength reverberating off of his witch distract from how small and frail-looking she is. She liked to poke fun at his lack of muscle and his lanky form but she was quite lithe herself. He noted that there were parts of her that were far from lithe(perhaps even, well, luscious); but she was fairly willowy for the most part. He knows for a fact that her shoulders are even smaller than they look from when he grabbed them in a foolish attempt to intimidate her. The wrist of the hand grasping his was very pale, slim, and the definition of the bones were obvious. He's fairly certain his hand could completely wrap around it, if not engulf it.
"Enjoying the view?" The wry tone broke through the fog his mind had been in and a blush flares on his cheeks when he realizes that he was quite obviously staring at her. Her smirk was not helping his blush dissipate. In an attempt to draw attention away from himself, he looked about and finally noticed that they were in a small compartment.
Alone.
About 40 feet off the ground.
She had lured him onto the ferris wheel.
The bright blush on his face quickly turned white. No matter how many times he had piloted a knightmare frame, he was always suppressing a fear of heights. At least in a knightmare frame, he felt like he had a little more control but in a glorified basket suspended by a cable, he felt much less safe. C.C. noticed the change in his countenance and her smirk was devilish.
...that can't be good.
She began to rock back and forth, side to side with increasing velocity and force. For such a small person, she was quite powerful. The compartment shook violently but Lelouch refused to give in so easily. He held on to a railing and closed his eyes. Then the compartment made an ominously loud creaking sound. Lelouch ordered her to stop but the willful woman ignored him.
Worse yet, the wheel started to move them but he was so focused on trying to get his stupid witch to stop trying to murder them that he wasn't even sure of their position. Big mistake.
The highlight of C.C.'s day was when Lelouch shrieked like a little girl at a particularly powerful shake. The icing on top was that it was right before they got off the ride, in front of the crowd of people waiting to get on. The cherry was when Lelouch's embarrassed blush traveled to to the tips of his ears and disappeared under his ridiculously out of place button-up shirt. It wasn't the first time she thought he was adorable and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
She could tell he hadn't enjoyed the ride as much as she had from how fast he stalked off. It was the most exercise she had seen him do since those particularly interesting school festivals he was a part of. Well, at least her warlock had stopped brooding and looking like a kicked puppy. Honestly now, one is supposed to enjoy their birthday.
