They spin, her unintentionally, him to stop her from falling, and pause, lost for a bit. He only catches himself when the ball comes tumbling down into his hand.

"You know, I was just talking to the woman in the window."

"My mother."

"The lovely lady in the window." He gives her his most charming grin, "You know, I've always wanted to join a circus."

"Great. You'd have made a lousy waiter." She jokes, and the two laugh for a while until he finally stops laughing to think for a second.


She's quick about a comeback.

"Well, if you can't even walk down a line without crashing."

He can't resist a small chuckle, thinking back to his first real job. And how he managed to drop a tray just from opening the kitchen door.

Real life didn't suit him.

Yes, he would like very much to be in a circus.

He is juggling.

His therapy, he claims, ever since he was a kid. Through juggling, throwing everything in the air, keeping it afloat, he is weightless. He flies.

She grabs his attention by including herself, effortlessly, and they spend a few moments grinning at each other, juggling together, before she decides to speak. He catches his flying therapy and gives her his full attention.


"Still calling me that?"

"Let's go on an adventure!"

"An adventure? We're going on tonight. Isn't that supposed to be an adventure?"

"Performance an adventure? That's all an act. It's when you don't have anything planned out that you really have fun."

"So what's your big adventure, eh? Magical flying creatures whisking us off up in the sky? Is it involving a journey? Love those, I do."

"Pingo has been in this town before. Found this wonderful place with the best meat sandwich he's ever had. And his taste is impeccable."

"Meat sandwich. Yes. Adventure time."

"But he cannot remember where on Earth it could be."

"Right, right. Of course. The usual."

"What, you're not excited?"

"Well that seems a bit vague. Are we just going to try every single sandwich place in the whole bloody town until we fill up to our limit and keel over?"

"No, no, he knows the name. Or atleast he thinks he does."

"And so we adventure."

"And so we shall, Mr. Valentine."

"You know, giving me that name. Valentine. You're not hinting at anything, are you?"

He smirks, his flirtatious levels at an all time high, and she just smiles back at him.

"Well your given name is a bit drab, isn't it? You need one with a bit of dignity and style, mixed with a bit of romance." She's smirking to herself, quoting from some unknown source, and he's a bit bewildered but amused all the same.

Circus folk.

He loved them.

He's laying down on a stack of hay.

A stack of hay.

This hasn't happened since he was a child. Laying on a haystack, staring at the sky. He feels like he should be in a petting zoo right now rather than a traveling, with some goat nibbling at his hand.

He has gotten into routine, for the most part. His new occupation is now his new family, finding empty clearings like the one he is in now, filling it up effortlessly so that even though they were in a different place, it still felt like the same home.

Just with hay stacks.

Then Helena comes and sits right next to him on his stack of hay.

"Was it like the movies, Valentine?"

"Was what?"

He supposes now, especially in this mask, he is Valentine, the very important man, not regular whoever from that one town that no one really remembered. Not even him, really.

"Real life." She clarifies, and he turns his head to look at her, eyes lit up and with a toothy grin that has him taking off the mask to properly look at her. His grin grows to match hers,

"Do you hear yourself? Real life in a movie. How absolutely ludicrous."

"No need to be cruel about it." A bitter tone attempts to hide the smile on her face. But he's really looking at her now, so it's a poor disguise.

"its a bit like grass growing." He rambles, waving a mask in an attempt to look more intelligible than he was, "You can't watch it grow. Youll bore yourself to death from the monotony of it all."

"That was incredibly unfulfilling."

"Such is life."

"Just your life probably. I bet I would have been great at it."

"Yes. Everyone's lifelong dream. Being great... at growing grass."

Helena is in her trailer, drawing, when Valentine decides to pop in, unannounced. He figures he might as well go all out, and jumps on the bed, sending a few pens flying.

"Valentine!" Helena exclaims, but he ignores her annoyance.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Who keeps track of that?"

"The fourteenth of February." Valentine continues, grinning at her, "The day of St. Valentine himself. My birthday."


"Might as well be now."

"And so what's the big plan?"

"You know, the usual. Cake in my honor, gifts in my honor, party in my honor..."

"Well," She hops off of her bed and rummages around her things, "Here's a cake."

She hands him a muffin.

"And a gift."

She writes, 'To Valentine' on the latest sketch she grew and hands it to him.

"And my party?"

"Well, Valentine, a whole entire show is being put together in your honor. In only a few hours, actually."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Dozens of performers-brilliant, all of them."

"Will it have the amazing Fortuna? I've always liked seeing her perform."

"Of course. After all, you are a very important man."

"And will I have the lovely Helena accompany me this evening to the show?"

"Well, that might be asking a bit too much."

He grins and gets back on his feet, towering over her like the large towering thing he was.

"Even if I put a cherry on top of it?"

"When you put it like that..." She trails off when he kisses her on the cheek.

He is smiling now, not grinning, but the smile fades a little when all she does is stare blankly at him.

"Helena?" He asks, genuinely worried now with how she's frozen emotionally and physically.

Then she bursts into laughter.

"Come on," She chuckles, nudging him in the chest with her shoulder, "Go and get ready for your party. I need to get dressed myself."

"Right, right. Valentines mustn't be late for their own events."

"Yes, yes. You mustn't keep lady Fortuna waiting."