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LIAISONS || Chapter 3

Feat. Thierry Neuville, Charles Leclerc and OFC

Genre: Romance, Love Triangle

Rating: +18

Word Count: 2,3k

Summary: Thierry shows up for his haircut appointment after the events of the previous day; Robin is determined to show her gratitude.

A/N: Also posted on Ao3.

The day felt stranger than usual.

The sensation eased off as the hours passed, but it hadn't stopped Robin from constantly glancing at the salon's door. Maybe because of her permanent state of alert, she saw exactly when Thierry arrived, a few minutes before the scheduled hour.

Her memory hadn’t betrayed her, he was a handsome man. Less easy to assess his age but he should be older than her, in his thirties; very fit as the tight jeans and beige sweatshirt demonstrated. Once again she was struck by the same feeling of the previous day, that she had seen him before. Monte Carlo was small so it wouldn't exactly be too far fetched if they had crossed paths somewhere.

More than anything, his arrival somehow brought her a helpful dose of serenity which she found silly - hotel security had been nearby all day. Robin was ready to blame dinner the night before and her cheeky coworkers for that one.

“Ah, you have a smile now,” he pointed at his own mouth, with a friendly smile himself. “You are okay? It’s Robin, right?”

He couldn’t pronounce the “r” sound on her name properly.

“It’s Robin, yes.” Untying the silky scarf she put on to match her animal print dress, she showed him the faint bruise she had spotted in the mirror. It was a little sore and a shocking reminder of the absurdity of the situation when she woke up in the morning. “I think it only sunk in today? The whole thing was just…” she pulled back from him, tying the scarf again. “Thank you for what you did, Thierry. My colleagues had to tell me, I mean, I missed it all. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

He shook his head mildly with a cordial smile. “Ah, anyone would have done exactly the same. I was closer so I got there first.”

After having seen bulkier guys running off brawls before when things got heated, Robin wasn’t so sure about it. “I don’t know about that, he was quite big!”

“Not big enough to scare anyone.”

She smiled weakly, wrapping her arms around herself uncomfortably. She had heard horror stories before about working with the public but it was impossible to anticipate or prepare for such a situation. “Maybe I said something wrong, I don’t know…” she confessed. Yannick and the others had been very supportive - but he could also have easily assumed she had been at fault on some level.

Thierry put a hand on his hip, gesturing with the other as he spoke. “I don’t think you said anything wrong. I heard, I was sitting there,” he pointed at the sofa. “You were very calm. And after. You’re tough, you did really well.”

Robin found herself smiling back at him. “Thank you. I’m new here and I don’t want my boss to think I irritate customers this much.”

“Nah, that wasn't a nice guy,” he stated confidently. “To be quite honest that's the first time I see something this bad around here. At night people can get,” he gestured again, with a grin, pointing out how woozy things could get, “you know? But not so bad. You don’t have to be worried. It will be fine.”

“Definitely not the kind of experience you want when you’ve just arrived! Worst of all,” she glanced at his head, at the wilder strands sticking out, “he delayed your appointment,” she joked.

Thierry took a hand to the top of his hair, flattening it. “Yeah, I know it doesn't look so good. But I have you instead now, no offense to Marcel, so I'm lucky.” He grinned and she giggled.

They'd been standing on their own at the reception hall the whole time. She motioned towards the tray. “Do you want anything to drink? Tea, coffee? Whisky?” She added the latter with a grin after he mouthed “no” at the first two options.

“No, no, no,” he chuckled. “I’m good, thanks.”

And so she invited him inside the salon so they could get started.

“You’re Charles’ girlfriend, right?” He asked after he greeted Marcel and Julien, Lily and Zoe waving at him too from the other end of the space.

She glanced at him with a furrowed brow. “Charles?”

“You’re not Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend? We met at the gym the other week. Maybe you don’t remember.”

It took her a moment and then she stopped. “Oh. We did!” She covered her mouth with both hands in surprise. “You had orange glasses, didn’t you? Like,” and she drew frames in the air around her eyes.

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “I don’t wear them everyday. But you have glasses, too.”

She caught the reflection of her oversized spectacles in the mirror. “Oh, it's just for work or when I’m reading,” she explained. “I knew I had seen you before! I was going to ask you if we’d met, now I know where it was.”

She helped him into the cape, had him sit at one of the basins, then spread a towel over his shoulders. “Usually this is our assistant's job but today you’re all mine,” she joked.

“That’s fine, I’m yours.” Despite not being very expressive, she thought he seemed a little flattered. He removed the glasses and rested his head back, looking up at her upside down. Another handsome driver with beautiful green eyes and long eyelashes, Robin admired. Did they spawn or somehow multiply in Monte Carlo? “Don't worry too much, I just really need that haircut.”

“Aww. I was actually planning to pamper you a bit,” she turned on the water, wetting his hair. “It'd be my pleasure, after yesterday. If you have time, of course.”

He grinned. “Ah. Well, okay. I find time for sure.”

“Great. Hope the water temperature is okay?”

She shampooed his hair and proceeded to massage his head, the pads of her fingers moving around in circles. He closed his eyes, mouth slacking a bit. He had assumed she was Charles’ girlfriend. Which was very flattering in itself (and got butterflies in her stomach just idealising a date with him) but was most definitely not true and it was wiser not to let rumours start lest the whole thing ended before it began. More, she had endured enough violence to last her the whole stay in France,in her opinion, and she had no interest in testing his fans.

“I’m not Charles’ girlfriend,” she said, her fingers pressing and releasing in circles on his scalp, his eyes fluttering open. “I did a month's training at his mother's salon before I started working here. I was looking for a gym and he was just showing me around that place, that’s all.”

“Oh. Okay. So you’re single?”

Robin blinked, taken aback. “I’m not Charles’ girlfriend,” she repeated with a smile on her lips.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “That’s really good, the massage.” Thierry had given up on chilling, though, and kept trying to look up at her while she scratched softly at the back of his head and upwards.

“Thank you. You keep moving, I hope you’re feeling relaxed.”

“Very pampered.”

Massage finished and hair rinsed, they moved to the workstation. She draped tape around his neck and readjusted the cape, before resting her hands on his shoulders and looking at his head in the mirror.

Running her fingers through his hair, Robin noted the whites and how it seemed to be thinning quite a bit, a distinguishable pattern of male baldness also forming. It was always a sensitive topic and not something a stylist should bring up unless the client specifically wanted to and showed comfort discussing. Those who wanted treatment and could afford it brought it up on their own.

She met his eyes in the mirror while combing through it, even though he probably couldn’t see much of her, his prescription seemed strong. “So how do you want it? Same style?”

“Yeah, same. Just shorter.”

She nodded and ran her fingers along the side of his face. “Straight razor shave? Or only a trim?” She was partial to a bit of facial hair on a man, both professionally and as personal taste, and she could tell it suited him, adding structure to his features. But she was curious to see the results of a good shave, he looked like he grew his facial hair very quickly anyway.

“Uh, shaving would be nice.”

“Excellent. You can trust me, I don't do it often but I’m good with the blade,” she joked.

Robin ran her fingers through his hair one last time before bringing a tube of L’Occitane en Provence.

“I'm going to apply some hand cream now before I do your hair. And then we go for the hot towel shave. We finish the hand massage while the steam does its job, if you've never done that it feels amazing. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, it does. I-I think next time I’m not coming for Marcel."

She grinned and brought his arm from under the cape to rest it on the arm of the chair, rolling up his sleeve. Taking his hand and wrist, she applied a copious amount of moisturiser. Thierry was following her every motion religiously.

He had large hands, quite rough and calloused, full of freckles. She massaged vigorously with both hands to spread the cream and help with the absorption. “You’re a racing driver, right?” If she had to take a guess, she would have said he was a mechanic.

“I’m a rally driver.”

Probably a good one if he lived in Monaco. “Based on my experience so far, everyone who lives here is either a driver or related to one.”

Thierry laughed. “I don’t think that’s true but I see your point.” He had already put the glasses back on with his free hand, meanwhile. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from Belgium.” She had literally just taken his other hand and felt it tensing for a moment between hers.

“You’re from Belgium? I’m from Belgium too.”

“No way.”

They both stared at each other for a brief moment. Thierry's English did not have the typical French accent from Wallonia. In fact, while she had assumed he was French the day before, she had changed her mind since as he seemed to have more of a mixed accent that she hadn’t been able to identify yet. Was he Flemish, she wondered.

“You’re Flemish?” Thierry asked her the second after.

“Are you, as well?”

He shook his head. “Germanophone. From Sankt Vith.”

“Wow.” She blinked in surprise. Robin couldn't help it but sometimes she forgot they existed. “English it is then because I don’t speak German and my French is pretty bad. Unless your Flemish is good.”

“Not good enough to speak, no. English is fine, good compromise.”

“We're good at that.”

He chuckled. “Exactly. My co-driver Martijn is from Ypres and we speak French in the car.”

“I come from the north, from Kasterlee. So funny, isn't it? Belgians lurking everywhere.” She shook her head, smiling; Thierry seemed equally amused. “Okay, you need to take off your glasses again. I'll do it for you, don't worry, or you'll get them full of hand cream.” She gently slid them off, Thierry staring straight at her as she did so, and placed them on the workstation under the mirror.

Afterwards, she grabbed a stool and sat down next to his chair. Scissors over comb, she snipped away, the two chatting as she moved around him. Prompted by Thierry, she spoke most of the time, telling him about her journey. Moving to the south of France and settling in, finding an affordable place to rent had been the biggest challenge. But then a good deal came up in a rural area somewhere between Villefranche-sur-Mer and Beaulieu-sur-Mer.

“It needs so much maintenance, the hot water is on and off… but the area is lovely and the landlord doesn't mind a six month contract, which is what I wanted.” She held up a mirror to show him the finished cut, threading her fingers through it while he put on his glasses again. “As new.”

“Yeah, great job. You were super quick.”

“Have you told Thierry about the ghosts, Robin?” Lily said with a laugh as she walked by. It was busy and relatively loud in the salon, most clients booked for blowouts, but unfortunately it had to be that part of the conversation that had been overheard.

“Ghosts?”

“Don't mind her, they all make fun of me,” Robin shrugged, “because everyday there’s something new. Now it’s the kitchen sink. It's going to be the nightmare of the week.”

“Why? Is it like a leak?”

“Yeah, everytime I open the faucet it’s just water all over the floor but I haven't really figured where it comes from... I’m okay with basic DYI but I’m out of my depth here. Look,” and she grabbed her phone from the workstation to show him a video she'd made. “Someone's coming to check next week, my landlord's arranged it.”

He squinted at the screen. “Did you check behind that panel?”

“Behind what?”

“Here.” He reached out with his finger and immediately a greasy blotch stained her phone screen. “Oh…sorry,” he grinned.

She giggled and wiped the screen on her thigh. He was probably right about the panel but she didn't want to ruin it without any guarantee it would solve the main issue.

“If you want I can have a look,” he said. “I have some free time this week.”

Robin gaped. “Are you serious? Oh, my god, that would be amazing if you could fix it.”

“I mean, I don't know if I can fix it, usually it's my car I have to fix,” he added humorously. “But I’ll do my best, I can try. I have a place in my hometown and always we have things like this.”

“Honestly, it's driving me mad, worse than the cold water, it's so hard to cook like this. I have a day off tomorrow, would that work for you?”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. I can do it.”

Robin couldn't believe her luck. Her coworkers were great but more useless than her in that field and she was already considering asking her neighbours for some temporary help. The solution had presented itself just now.

"Thierry, I'm going to give you the hot towel shave of your life.”

#liaisons #fanfiction #rpf #charles leclerc #thierry neuville #romance #slow burn #love triangle #formula 1 fic #wrc fic #original character

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