Oh my, I haven't posted anything in ages. This piece was never meant to be a multi-chaptered ordeal, but I don't have the time or the energy to type it all in (it was originally handwritten). It's closing in on midnight and I've got appointments early in the morning. No work though, so I'll clean the remainder up and post it tomorrow. Promise!
Disclaimer: Don't own a thing. Well, I do own a few things, but nothing in this story. It all belongs to… somebody else.
Authors note (July 16th 2009): Just revisiting this and making a few changes, from when was a bit of a bitch with spaces and stuff.
Halloween evening 3.45 PM
Squall slumped back in his office chair and rubbed his temples. He'd been at the very same document for the entire week and now the headache that he'd been putting on hold came creeping up slowly from the base of his neck.
He wanted to sleep, but there were still many hours of work left and at 7pm Selphie would announce the beginning of her annual Halloween costume party. He had somehow been coerced into participating as a chaperon although he didn't give a Grats ass about how the kids were behaving. Selphie had even tried to make him wear a costume, going so far as to have a few suggested to him. But she must have realized that her pleas were futile, because she hadn't harassed him as much as he had expected.
As he sat there, the fatigue that he had tried to stave off with coffee, work, glaring, work and cussing, began to fill him slowly and with a surrendering sigh he allowed his eyes to fall shut. Within seconds, he was asleep.
ooo
4.30 PM
Quistis grimaced at her computer screen and then scowled. Ever since she took that mandatory computer class for staff members six months previous, she felt as if the Hyne-forsaken machines had ganged up on her to make her working hours a living hell. Squall didn't have a computer in his apartment, there was no need for her to have one either, it was bad enough with one at work. And, she honestly believed the things were cursed.
The small satisfaction that she felt in Squall's technical reluctance was smudged by the fact that he sent her handwritten notes instead and she hadn't quite gotten the hang of his rather boyish scribbles.
When the computer for the fourth time deleted her report before she'd had a chance to save it, she admitted defeat and turned the damned thing off with a sense of relief.
She glanced at the digital clock on her desk; she had about two hours to get ready for Selphie's party. Two hours she would desperately need to complete her costume. It was something she'd rather not think too much about, but she found a great deal of excitement in playing dress-up and when she put her mind to something, there was no stopping her.
She cleaned away her used office stationary and turned off her desk lamp. Her shift didn't end until 5 PM (sharp) but Squall was hopefully too engrossed in work to bother with time. He really was the poster-boy for workaholism.
She knocked rapidly and entered without waiting for confirmation. The most private she would ever catch Squall doing was picking his nose.
It was with slight surprise that she realized she had woken him up.
He focused on her with sleepy eyes and tilted his head in silent question.
"If you don't need me for anything, I'm going home." She had long ago stopped seeing Balamb Garden as a whole, where there was no "home" or "work". Now she had problems seeing the world outside of Garden, and that sometimes scared her.
Squall pushed himself upright and cleared his throat before he nodded.
"Sure." From the sound of his voice, he'd been asleep for quite a while.
"Don't forget Selphie's party tonight. We need every responsible staff member we can get."
She knew for a fact that Squall never forgot something unless he chose to, and she figured that going to a costume party probably fell in the same pocket of his mind that President Laguna's visits did.
"I won't."
"See you later, then."
She was about to close the door behind her when he called for her attention.
"In case I forget to say it later", he said while shuffling some papers together and carefully placed them in a plastic binder. He looked up and met her eyes. "Have fun tonight, Quistis."
"Eh", she said, dumbstruck. "Thanks, you too."
As she left Squall's office for her own apartment, she wondered what kind of dream she had woken the commander out of.
ooo
5 PM
Zell was trying on his fifth hair-do for the evening and messed it up almost immediately when he yet again failed to meet his own criteria.
He had been referred to as an angel since he was four years old and had decided (now when he was comfortable enough in his own skin) that he was entitled to some self-mockery. Seifer's suggestion to go as a chicobo had been tempting, but the costume he had tried on had been way too hot and had restricted his movements. If he was going to get into a fight wearing a satirical costume, at least he wanted to be able to defend himself.
He had of course realized that angels usually were romantically described with wavy golden-blond hair, woven out of silk. He had one out of three and he sure as hell would NEVER let Selphie, or anyone else for that matter, anywhere near him with that curler.
He stared at his reflection for a while longer, eyeing the tousled hair with a frown. There was no way Selphie would allow him his usual hairstyle, and after he'd gone to such extremes to really make it a "costume", he wouldn't ruin it by looking like himself.
So leave it down, it is.
He flattened it out with hands used to styling hair and with the assistance of a comb. He really looked ridiculous, he settled, but wasn't that the whole point, anyway?
The clothes he was going to wear lay spread out across his bed, flattened carefully so no wrinkles would ruin it. If anyone had ever seen an angel, it sure as hell hadn't worn a wrinkled robe.
Yes, it was robe. Seifer would - of course - call it a dress and taunt him for it, but Zell had a hard time making himself care. Whatever Seifer had decided to wear, he was sure he would find some future ammunition to use. And if it was one thing that the GF's never let your forget, was a good comebacks.
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Zell figured he had enough time left to go see Squall about that upcoming mission of his. It wasn't dangerous per se, but it wasn't entirely risk-free either and for some odd reason he had wanted to confirm that any due salaries, savings and/or insurance would go directly to his Ma. After Ultimecia, all those things somehow felt important, too many SeeD's and civilians and lost their lives and he'd seen too many left with nothing after the war. He would not let that happen to the one he loved more than anything.
Sporting his new hair-do, Zell walked briskly to the elevators. He knew by experience that one should never make a public appearance with hair you weren't used to and he would let as few people as possible see him before he adjusted to every odd strand of hair hanging in his face.
The hallway to Squall's office was dark except for the green emergency arrows along the walls and knowing it was Halloween made an excited tingle run down his spine. He was too old and too experienced in life's true horrors to be scared anymore, but any kind of potential danger - even if it was just a cadet jumping out of a dark corner - would supply him with a rush of adrenaline that he suspected he was addicted to by now.
Yellow light peeked out from underneath Squall's door and betrayed the Commander's presence.
Knocking on that door, the whole walk and the elevator ride was familiar enough to him to do it bound, blinded and gagged.
Zell pressed his thumb to the scanner next to the door handle, a precaution taken after an assassination attempt on Laguna, and watched as the bright green line scanned his thumbprint. A soft "beep" declared the procedure finished and a moment later, the door slid open.
"Hey", he said, grinning at Squall as he walked in. "You busy?"
"Not at all. What do you want?"
Zell sat down in Squall's none-too-comfy visiting chairs (he really didn't want any visitors staying longer than absolutely necessary) and managed to mask his surprise. Squall not busy?
"I just wanted to talk to you about some stuff before my mission on Monday."
"I can always send someone else, Zell. You don't have to do it. I just thought you'd be able to do it in the shortest amount of time."
"No, it's not like that, I'm-"
"Seifer's been hassling me about missions all semester, I'm sure he'd jump at the opportunity to go."
" Squall, I-"
" Imagine that, huh? Seifer jumping up and down? Almost like Selphie does when she's really excited about someth-"
Zell rocketed from the chair to lean over the desk and slammed a hand over Squall's mouth. Alarms had started to go off in his head as soon as Squall had started talking and the more he'd said, the more had gone off. By now, his entire head was ringing.
"Man, can I get a word in, Squall?"
Grey eyes that usually only shifted between seven different types of glares and scowls (some expertly combined), looked up at him in confusion.
"When I remove my hand, you'll let me finish a whole sentence, ok?"
Squall nodded.
With a close eye on the brunet, Zell sat back in his chair. "I just wanted to make sure that all my financial shit is in order. Ma gets everything if I punch out, right?"
With brows furrowed deep in concern, Squall leant forward to rest his elbows against the desk.
"Are you planning on not coming back?"
"What? Of course not! I just wanna make sure. I realize that this might not be the best time for this discussion, but I didn't wanna risk forgetting during the weekend."
"No time is a good time for a discussion like this, Zell. You have to understand that you make me worried when you say something like that."
"I… That was not my intention. It's just that I've never thought about it since they made us sign that document after passing the SeeD-exam."
"I see. Well, I can look into it by Monday, if you want."
"Yes, thanks."
"Would that be all?"
Zell followed Squall's eyes to the clock on the wall. 5.45. He still wasn't entirely done with his costume.
"Yeah, that's it."
"I guess I'll see you later then."
"Yep, if you can recognize me."
Zell stood with a smirk and Squall's verbal eruption was almost forgotten now. Almost.
"Hey, Zell?"
The blond turned and raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah?"
"You look good with your hair like that. Makes you look older."
It was with a wriggling feeling in his stomach that he hadn't felt since Seifer had come at him with a Gunblade and murder in his eyes, that Zell returned to his apartment.
Please leave a review, whether you liked it or not, I'm not picky. Just don't be cruel.
Hugs, Z