It was odd, as he'd always found it, to be the only person in a Quidditch stadium besides the players, but the thought wasn't worthy enough of Tristan's attention to distract him for very long. The presentation of a pass signed by Gwen Jones had earned him a surprised look from the stadium manager; evidently it was not her tendency to extend invitations to the Harpies' practices, but he'd had no difficulty being admitted.

He'd settled himself in the announcer's box, midfield, to have a good vantage point of the entire pitch, the ruled notepad he preferred and a lead pencil in hand as he watched the various players while they ran through drills, always keeping an eye on Gwen as she circled and supervised. She'd let the snitch loose; whether such was common to a practice or for his benefit of observation he didn't know, but he'd filled several pages with notes and sketches by the time the women were wrapping up their various exercises some three hours after he'd arrived.

Gathering his book and the small case he'd brought along, Tristan descended the stairs as Gwen landed to talk to one of her chasers, sifting the ideas already formed and finding places for new ones as they took shape. He emerged onto the grass of the pitch a minute later, catching sight of a passingly familiar blonde head, one of those he'd been observing in addition to Gwen. "Miss Bell," he called, redirecting his path slightly to intersect hers, "might I have a moment of your time?"

Head still full of the plays they'd been working on in practice, Katie was a bit startled when she heard a man calling her name. It wasn't common to hear male voices on this particular pitch. Curious about a man that had access to the Harpies stadium, Katie glanced over her should at her captain who was talking to Fab before offering a tentative smile and nodding her head to the man approaching her. "Sure," she answered softly, eyes widening a bit as he came up to her. "I know you, I think."

"Tristan Bole," was offered with a pleasant smile as he switched his case to his left hand in order to extend his right to Katie. "I imagine you remember me from Hogwarts." She was still a tiny, faerie-like thing, but that suited his purposes perfectly well, given what he'd seen of her flying style during the practice.

Katie let him shake her hand, a small smile slipping out in answer to his. "Yes, you were a Slytherin beater in Ollie's year." Once he'd released her hand, she set both around the handle of her broom, standing just behind it as she looked up at him. "It's nice to see you again Tristan, but how did I meet you here? Gwen hardly ever lets anyone out here," she asked, cheeks pinkening for asking nosy questions. She was curious though, and he had come up to her.

Ollie? What a ridic- Oh. Wood. Perfect sense, then. "I was." Tristan refrained from any telling expression, though it was interesting to hear his suspicions about Gwen's habits regarding her team confirmed. "Gwen and I are considering something of a business venture, and she kindly consented for me to make notes during your practice today," he explained. "What broom is it you fly?" he asked conversationally, though the brand, model, specifications, and faults were neatly listed in his brain before the question was out.

Katie nodded her head, still curious about what exactly Tristan was doing at practice, but she was distracted from those thoughts by his question. "A Firebolt Uri 1175," she answered without a thought, tilting her head to the side as she watched him.

Tucking his notepad and pencil into a coat pocket, Tristan opened the case he'd brought and produced a very small broom, resizing it with a tap of his wand. He tended to work with players exactly Katie's opposite; keepers or beaters closer to his size than hers, but he'd been testing variations for a smaller rider, and Katie fit the specifications he'd had in mind quite well. "A good model. Responsive, high directional maneuverability, and fast," he assessed, nodding in the direction of the broom she was hiding behind. "Absolutely abysmal on dives, with a propensity to be a bit slow on hard braking." He held out the broom he'd retrieved. "It's been tested for safety, but none of my associates quite match your style."

Gwen had been keeping half an eye on Tristan and Katie as she ran quickly through a play with Fabriana, needing the chaser to understand the last triple turn as it related to her other two teammates. When Tristan had pulled out a broom from his case and she'd seen Katie's wide eyes, she dismissed Fabriana and made for the duo who now had her full attention.

As Tristan held out the broom to Katie, Gwen held out her hand in turn. "I'm sure that it's quite safe, but I like to look over any broom that goes to my team," she said, voice neutral, waiting.

Unsurprised by the interruption, Tristan transferred the broom to Gwen's open hand, impressed that she'd stayed with the other chaser as long as she had. "Of course," he allowed, meeting Gwen's eyes as he released the broom into her grip, "a good captain watches out for her players." It was a concession to not meddle with the people under her watch, and she'd know it; he'd made sure she'd taken note of him before he'd called Katie over to begin with.

Katie glanced back and forth between her captain and Tristan, watching their faces intently. They were both very focused and she was pretty sure something had just passed between them, though she wasn't sure what.

Gwen accepted the broom with a small twitch of lips as she kept Tristan's gaze a moment. Turning to Katie, she let a small smile slip over her features. "Good job today Bells. Make sure you're thinking about the new patterns we went over." Holding out her own broom, she continued, "here, take this to the locker room for me. You know where it goes." At Katie's shy smile and little nod, Gwen's eyes twinkled. "You can try out the new broom in a few days. Now off with you."

She watched the smaller woman walk away, a few moments later turning back to Tristan, her face more neutral now except for the hint of a smile playing just at the corners of her mouth. "I see you made use of your time here."

"I did," Tristan acknowledged. "My apologies if enticing the lambs away from the flock was... untoward. I've yet to have someone meant for that broom actually fly it, though." His lips curled upward minutely at one side, a reflection of Gwen's own humor. "She's not changed a bit since school," he mused aloud, tipping his head in the direction of Katie's retreating back.

"Well, after we've ... discussed a few things and I've tested the broom myself, I'll pass it along. She seemed excited about it," Gwen answered, mind turning over what would need to be done in order to keep her promise to the small chaser. A major part of captaining an all-female team was relational interactions and she nurtured and facilitated that even to the smallest details.

Gwen's eyes found Katie again when Tristan nodded towards her, a small smile peeking out as she watched the blond walk away. "As sweet and unassuming then as she is now?" she asked, turning back to Tristan with a raised brow.

Permitting the rest of his smirk to form at the memory of a handful of Gryffindor-Slytherin games, Tristan answered, "Rather sharp little elbows, too, for all her smiling." He indicated the broom Gwen was holding. "Try it, if you like, and then we can convene that discussion you mentioned. It's not a mismatch for you, either, though you're seemingly more fond of trying to plough yourself than she is. Occupational hazard of being a Seeker, if I had to guess."

Gwen smiled then, genuinely amused at his assessment of her flying habits in relation to her position. "Something like that," she answered a beat later. Seeker did suit her, a solitary position requiring intense focus and one did have to love the occasional nose dive straight for the ground at full speed. Just thinking of it was exhilarating and she was already anticipating trying the broom in her hand. Eyes bright now, smile still playing at her lips she regarded him briefly before saying, "I'll be just a moment," and was off, already a speck darting around the goalposts.

Tristan chuckled to himself as Gwen zipped away, noting that the broom responded well to her slight weight and tendency to change direction abruptly. She knew how to test a broom, not that it surprised him, though seeing as she flew a Firebolt herself, he wondered how many she'd tried before deciding on the model she had. It was a good fit, though not perfect. If she wanted to fling herself at the pitch at top speed and miss consistently, she'd want something with similar power and quicker braking, a hair touchier for regular flying, but he'd watched her streak after the snitch; handling was no deterring factor. Pulling his notes from his pocket again, he added a line sketch of Gwen wheeling the broom around in a quick spiral, a grin surfacing as she spun close enough for him to catch her expression.

After her last pass, Gwen pulled up on the handle as she came towards the ground at breaking speed, the broom slowing down, though not enough brake if she wanted to get closer to the ground and still pull out. In a moment, she hopped off the broom, windblown and flushed as she took the last few steps towards Tristan.

Her lids were heavy, mouth quirking into the barest of smiles as she came up to him. "That was quite lovely, Tristan. I do hope all of your designs are as ... stimulating as this one," she murmured, voice low and warm. She paused a moment, eyes scanning over the man in front of her before continuing, "handles wonderfully though the braking charms aren't quite what I need for my 'fondness to plough myself' into the pitch as you so succinctly put it. And considering my affinity to test the fates as it were, a touch more power and speed wouldn't be remiss, though I'm not sure this particular broom could handle that modification, no?"

"It wouldn't, no, and I'm glad you... enjoyed yourself. Do see what Miss Bell thinks of it when you've a chance, if you wouldn't mind. I'd not planned it for a Seeker" with a death wish. Designing for Gwen would likely be the most interesting experience of his career if she always reacted that way to a test flight. Stimulating, indeed, he ruminated silently, the corner of his mouth curling under. "I've another with me that might be more to your liking for power, though I'll say now that it's intended for a much larger Chaser and lacks the neat handling of that one. You're also welcome to see my notes, if you'd rather find somewhere a bit warmer," he offered, biting back a smirk as he awaited the return volley.

Gwen's brow rose as he spoke. It was subtle, but he was challenging her. Smirk playing at her lips as she regarded him, she spoke a few seconds later. "I do so like power, Tristan, especially when it's an effort to tame it. I've a roomful of brooms to testify such a proclivity. If you would, please," she requested, indicating his bag.

Right in one, Tristan concluded with an answering twist of lips. "Certainly," he assented, opening the case again and selecting the broom he'd described, returning it to its proper size. She'd never be satisfied with a broom that didn't answer her every whim, not as hard as she flies. "Shall I hold that one for you?" he asked solicitously, holding out his hand for the first broom and offering the second.

"Please," she answered as she handed the first broom over, eyes already running over the larger one he was handing her, focus on the new broom, the possibilities with more power in her hands. She ran her fingers over the handle, appreciating the finish before flashing a wicked grin at him. She was off then, again, straight up and then diving for the goal posts, slipping through a hoop and twisting down towards the ground, pushing the broom, pushing her own limits.

Though it was tempting to have his wand at the ready, a stasis charm on his lips, Tristan refrained, watching Gwen throw herself and the broom at a perfect ninety degree angle for the pitch. That broom would brake; the nearly identical prototype was also on hand, but he'd had the feeling after watching her with the first model that she'd do exactly what she was now, and the prototype was faster but would have speared itself, along with her, directly into the grass. Not a promising start for a commission.

He appreciated the temptation to push one's luck; streaking along faster than was safe, waiting that extra split second before pulling out of a dive, and he missed it sometimes, the ability to dare death and not worry about the consequences. He'd given it up along with Slytherin quidditch, the fate of an eight year old ray of light weighing too heavily on his mind to consider it any further. Wiping the foreshadowing of a frown from his face, he returned his attention to Gwen, taking mental pictures of her handling of the overlarge broom.

Racing in the direction of the lone person on the pitch, Gwen pulled up when she was sure she'd gotten close enough to send a wave of air over him. It took concentrated effort to do so with the bigger broom, definitely not something she could have while chasing after the snitch.

With a last upside-down turn, she came back towards the ground at a slower pace and hopped off, breathing a little faster than normal, lids heavy with the afterglow of a powerful ride. "That was most definitely to my liking, Tristan," she breathed, still a bit short of breath from the effects of such a rousing whirl about the pitch. "Power and speed like this," she smirked, handing the broom back to him, "with better touch handling and I do believe we'll be heading in the right direction."

An eyebrow arched in response to the buffetting of air he'd received as Gwen purposely avoided collision by a very narrow margin, Tristan accepted the broom she held out and returned it to the case. He left the model he'd intended for Katie out, nodding at Gwen after a moment. "As I'd imagined, then," he acknowledged, notes to that effect already listed as likely along the margins of his sketches. A wry smile appeared at her obvious pleasure, though he'd yet to fully shrug off the light grey haze that watching her fly so wildly had drummed up. "You fly too hard for that Firebolt, but there's nothing... more on the market that you'd not have to wrestle while Seeking," he assayed, amused that he was intending to draw up plans for something more powerful than the newer-model Firebolt for a Seeker less than half his size.

"You grasp what has been my difficulty then. Power, speed and impeccable handling all in one ride suited for someone such as myself has been a bit of a challenge." She summoned the broom meant for Katie to her hand then, indicating the side exit of the pitch.

As they began to walk, she glanced up at him. "I've an extensive collection and the only one that's even come close to what I want is the Bulgarian Sliven 2500. Only problem is that it's twice the size of the Firebolt even. It's something to consider." As they came to the edge of the field, Gwen turned to him. "If it's at all a help to what you need to do, I've a roomful of brooms of which I could tell you the last detail of what I like and don't." Her lips quirked then, wry. "I should warn you now that I'm very particular, and should we work together, I will want to be closely involved in the whole process."

"I can see that causing quite a search, yes," Tristan agreed, modifying his stride to mesh with Gwen's as they headed for the exit. He actually stopped for the space of a step and a half, quickly blanking an incredulous expression as he regained the distance. The Sliven was something he could fly fairly comfortably, head and shoulders taller with several stone on her, and it was intended for someone even larger than himself. Well then. She was really quite small, though it wasn't obvious even while standing next to her, until she did something to point it out and lessen the sheer force of her personality for a moment.

He filed the realization away and smirked, eyes full of mirth, containing a laugh at the statement of something already obvious to him. "I assure you, I expected nothing less on either count, and while I believe I could manage the same if given a list of your collection, I'm sure the experience would be most enlightening."

As Gwen watched him, the smirk that bloomed, she was quite sure he was much more amused than he was letting his features bely if the mirth dancing behind his eyes was anything to go by. Her focus narrowed to him then, intrigued by this man who could control how much he let out, share it as he would, or choose not to as she was quite sure he did fairly often. Storing that thought away for another time, Gwen considered Tristan as he smirked down at her. "Enlightening, indeed," she murmured, a small smile appearing on her lips in response to his. "We will have to make that part of the ... research process then. And since it seems you have decidedly taken my commission, what is on the agenda next, Tristan?"

Considering Gwen's question as they walked, Tristan nodded at her assumption. "I admit this to be the most interesting commission with which I've yet been presented, and I do so like a challenge, Gwen, especially a puzzle that's an effort to solve," he teased, purposely using her own earlier phrasing. Reaching out, he pushed the stadium exit door open ahead of her and held it, lips still curled in humor. "Lunch, if you're so inclined, and you can look over my notes, see if there's anything you'd like to add or change."

Glancing up at him as she passed by, a smile curving her mouth at his play on her earlier words. "Lunch would be lovely. And I have to say that I'm pleased that this will be a challenge for you. You seem the type of man that likes to master that puzzle before him, to do it just right," she answered, voice rich and warm. She had noticed it at the ball when they were dancing, both with their bodies and words, that Tristan made her aware of the heat she lived with, but she was reminded of it again as she passed so closely by him; his own heat and their play of words having made her mindful of the fact once more.

"Well spotted." Tristan let the door fall closed behind himself, smile changing, along with his eyes, briefly while Gwen's back was turned, not quite returning to the pure amusement he'd been showing. "What point or fun is there in doing something if it's not to be done properly?" he asked as he rejoined her, the light tease still in his voice, finding again that he enjoyed the play of words and intent between them. "Shall I retire to the lobby, then, and entertain myself while you attend to what needs?"

"Indeed," she said, more to herself but sharing the thought anyways. "Properly and completely thorough, attentive to the last detail. I do believe this will be ... interesting," she finished, slow smile pulling at her lips. She held Tristan's gaze a beat, pleased that he returned her look. "Do ... entertain yourself and I'll be with you momentarily." With that she turned and disappeared around a corner, intent on the locker room and a shower.

Interesting seems a likely description, Tristan conceded silently, watching Gwen round the corner. He headed for the stadium's lobby to sprawl himself into one of the chairs there, paging through his notebook with an air of the laughter he'd been holding. I make what keeps you in the air, Gwen... attentive is on your side.


SUMMARY: Tristan observes the Harpies practicing in order to begin forming ideas on the broom Gwen's commissioning from him. He also shows interest in working with Katie, never having had the opportunity to have such a small flier use one of his designs. Gwen flies a few brooms he brought along and business is begun - properly and completely thorough.