[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

The Seamstress cackled again; "My dear, you have no idea how many people want the same thing. It has been too long since that Troupe Leader was taken down a peg, and what better way than to be outshone by a new star? She can keep the dress, it was made for her anyway. Tell her it's a copy I made if you must."

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Orion grinned, and carefully folded the dress she handed to him.

"Now, let's take that photograph over to the Ringmaster - but be quick! We must not let the Troupe Leader or Choreographer catch wind of what we're doing, or they'll sabotage it!" She beckoned him towards the door, and Orion obediently followed, switching off the lamps as he went.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

The ringmaster whistled when he saw the photograph. "I had no idea - they always kept her in the back, and I hadn't realised. You're sure she's star material?" he asked, glancing over to the Seamstress.

Orion held his breath as she nodded, and the Ringmaster frowned.

"I can put her in, but she cannot dance alone - it would look too unbalanced" he said.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

The Seamstress beamed, and jerked Orion forward.

"Not a problem! She has a willing dance partner right here!" She glared at him, and Orion, who had opened his mouth to object, closed it again.

"You? Orion, I get that you're invested in this girl, but you don't know the first thing aboud dancing - and you haven't been in the ring in years!" the Ringmaster exclaimed.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

At this, Orion opened his mouth to object, or protest, or to say something - anything - to soothe his pride, for he used to dance as part of his routine, but the Seamstress beat him to it.

"He'll learn, and if he won't learn I'll teach him - I'll have you remember I was both the Troupe Leader and Choreographer before."

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Orion turned to look wide-eyed at the Seamstress, but she was determinedly not looking at him, instead keeping her eyes fixed on the Ringmaster.

"All right" he said at last, quailing under her gaze. "Set them up with a routine, and I'll put them in the ring -but they had better be good!" He waved them out, and Orion thanked him before following the Seamstress back to her Caravan.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

"Okay, so what's going on? What did you mean you did both of those jobs before - 'before' what?" he asked, mystified, once the door was securely closed and he was seated in an armchair with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. The insistence he put on it was slightly undermined by the bite he took out of the biscuit in his hand.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

The Seamstress sighed, and placed her cup down on its saucer. "I wasn't always the seamstress - once, a long time ago, I was a dancer myself, and when I grew up, I took over from my Instructor. In those days, there was no 'Troupe Leader' and 'Choreographer' - the roles were one and the same.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

She looked into her tea for a moment, lost in the past, before she continued.

"There was one night - a drunk caused a fight in the stands, which spilled into the ring while we were doing our act. The horses panicked, and bolted - but I was in their way. A frown covered her face, and she lifted her skirt to show him what he now realised was a prosthetic leg.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

"There was nothing to be done - surgery in those days was very different, and the bone was splintered, shattered beyond repair." She trembled a little, and Orion's heart went out to her, for her pain and for the loss of her dreams.

"By the time I came back, things had moved on - I couldn't dance any more, and as they say, the show had to go on - it could not wait for me" she finished bitterly.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Orion looked into his tea guiltily. A decade wasted, spent mooning over an idiot who had hurt him, his dreams thrown away - and all this time someone who had had theirs ripped away through no fault of their own, with no possibility to regain them, had been sitting here watching; it made him feel very ashamed of himself.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

As if she could read his thoughts, the Seamstress smiled kindly and patted him on the hand. "Buck up, Dear" she said, leaning back into her chair. "It's nobody's fault what happened except the people who started the fight, and they served their time. Nowadays, I'm mostly content with the costume designing, though I'm not afraid to get involved when something rotten's afoot - as you can see."

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

Orion smiled at that, and his admiration for the strong woman in front of him grew. He almost wished Yvaine were there with him, though he was not sure how he was going to explain that he had been talking to the Seamstress and Ringmaster behind her back - which he was sure she would be none too happy with him for.

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

"So what do you want us to do, in terms of practice?" he asked, after the conversation had run its course and they were feeling a little lighter.

The Seamstress smiled at him. "Let's get your measurements so I can get started on a costume, and then we'll work out a schedule - you can come here under the pretense of getting fitted for new overalls."

[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

He stood up, but raised an eyebrow. "Will we have enough room in here?" he asked, unable to believe they could practice in a room filled with sewing equipment and costume racks.

The Seamstress chuckled. "Did I say anything about practicing in here? You'll see when the time comes. Now stand still while I get my tape measure."