Author's Note: Hey, it's DAY, your author here! I had another idea for a
FF8 fic, so I've been developing it, and voila, here it is! The title's a
little sappy, yes, I know, but I'm no good at coming up with titles, and
one of my oc's will say that line sometime, so, why not! Well, I hope ya
all like this ficcy! Read and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own any places, characters, yada yada from FF8. I wish I did, though. It would be fun to torture them all. *Wonders how to take over Squaresoft* But, I do own all my oc's including Zephyr and Lance, and any plot twists surrounding them . . . You can borrow, just ask, k?
Not Just a Heart . . .
Chapter One - Duct Tape Fixes Everything . . . Well, almost . . .
"Right kids, first thing's first. Y'all know my name?" The faces of the 'kids,' all actually 14-21 years of age, all had different expressions. Some were comprehensive, others were confused, and some were downright bored. "Okay, since not all of you know my name, I'll start by introducing myself. My name's Irvine Kinneas, and I'm gonna be your basic sniping Instructor for this first semester. And if you just love me so much, you can come back next semester for some intermediate sniping." He laughed at a joke that only he thought was funny.
"Excuse me, Instructor." The young woman who had just addressed Irvine managed to spit out his title like it was bile in her mouth. "But I suggest you be more respectful to your students. I know for a fact how old you are, and some of your students are older than you. I don't want to be called a kid all my life, for God's sake."
The student who had spoken was sitting in the front row of consoles, with her feet perched on the keypad. Her hair was straight and shoulder length, tawny brown with blonde highlights. Her eyes were a deep blue-gray behind circular wire-rimmed glasses, which only helped accentuate the gray in her irises. She was dressed tight black leather pants and a tight black leather jacket over a white long sleeved blouse that showed off her figure well. Irvine also noted the twin revolvers on her belt.
"Miss . . . ?"
"Masters, not that I should tell you. It would have been fun to see the look on your face when you tried to figure out who I was."
"Miss Masters, that's enough of that, thank you very much. I may only be 21, but I am still your Instructor. I deserve a little more respect than that."
"I only respect Instructors as much as they deserve to be respected." The rest of the class sniggered slightly at Miss Masters' last remark.
"Then you can go see if the Headmaster deserves any respect. Now." Irvine pointed out the door.
" . . . Whatever . . ." But despite her unwillingness to go, Miss Masters took her feet off the console and sulked out of the door.
/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/
Squall heard a knock at his door. He hadn't received a call expecting anyone to come. But, if he would have had anything scheduled, he wouldn't remember anyway. He had been so swamped with paperwork lately that he hadn't had any free time in about a week. But that was always the way it was, with the semi-annual SeeD test coming up . . . Now he understood why Cid wanted to leave so desperately.
"Come in." The door opened and a young woman with straight black hair walked in. "Oh, it's only you Rinoa."
"Don't act so enthused to see your beloved wife. Who hasn't seen you for more than two minutes for the past week."
"I'm busy. I have to get all this," he waved his hand towards the piles of papers on his desk, "done before the testing next week."
Rinoa walked over and sat on Squall's lap. "So? The testing is what? Six days away? That's plenty of time. You should relax."
Squall bent around Rinoa to start working on the next paper in front of him. "I can't relax until I have all these papers off my desk."
"Okay then, Mr. Stiff-and-Uppity." Rinoa pushed Squall's arm out of the way and swiped both her hands across his desk, knocking all his papers to the floor. "There. Your desk is clear." She unbuttoned the first three or four buttons on Squall's shirt and slipped her hand inside. "Maybe now you can spend some time with your wife." She leaned forward and kissed him.
(Well, I guess she's right. After all, I do have 6 days . . . ) Squall thought as he slipped his arms around her and returned her kiss. (Hell, I haven't kissed her like this for a week. Maybe I should loosen up. I could always force Xu to do the paperwork.)
Their romantic moment was ruined when Squall's phone rang. "Ignore it," Rinoa pleaded.
"I can't. What if it's something important?" The phone rang again.
"More important than your wife? Who has some very exciting news to tell you?"
"Let me answer my phone, Rinoa." The phone rang a third time, and Rinoa sighed and got off Squall's lap so he could reach across and grab the phone.
"Hello? Oh, hey Irvine. What's up? . . . A troublemaker? Can't be any worse than you, can she? . . . Why did you send her to me? I was busy. . . . New today? What's her name? . . . Zephyr Masters? She's one of the candidates from Trabia for the test next week. She can't have . . . She did what? . . . It's okay, calm down Irvine. . . . Yes, I will talk to her and tell her what's expected. . . . Okay Irvine. . . . Look, calm down! . . . Fine, fine, just go back and teach your next class. . . . Okay, fine. . . . Yes, Irvine, I will try to make her behave. . . . I can't force her to! She's as old as we are, for God's sake! . . . Calm down! Look, go and talk to Selphie or Quistis about it, I'm sure one of them will know what to do. . . . Just because she's rebellious doesn't mean she's a bad person! How many times have I told you . . ." Squall stared at the phone for a second before hanging it back up.
"What happened, honey?"
"A new student from Trabia, one Zephyr Masters, came in today. She's one of the highest ranked new students from the re-built Trabia, and favored to pass the test next week. Supposedly works with guns and explosives. She was in Irvine's Basic Sniping course, what was she doing signed up in that course, I wonder. Anyway, she back talked him and said some pretty disrespectful things."
"Oh. And?"
"And what?"
"What's he going to do about it?"
"He sent her to see me, and then, when I was trying to explain that rebellion and evil are two different things, he hung up on me . . ."
"I see . . . How old is this Zephyr?"
"Same age as us."
"Oh. Well, if she's coming, I'd better go. See you tonight?"
"Hope so."
Just then, the door opened. Zephyr walked in, her eyes taking in the scene: papers scattered all over the floor, a clear desk, and Mrs. Leonheart about to leave. She chuckled suggestively and held the door open for Rinoa to walk out. Squall felt heat rise in his cheeks at her automatic assumption.
After Rinoa left, Squall addressed Zephyr. "Take a seat."
Zephyr spun the chair around and sat in it backwards, still looking at Squall with those mischievous eyes. "That's not the best scene to gain my respect, you know . . ."
"I wasn't expecting Instructor Kinneas to call me with a complaint about a back talking student who failed to show any respect whatsoever."
"Touché. The only counter I have to that is that he didn't deserve my respect, so he didn't get it."
"And who's to say that you're the judge of who deserves respect? Irvine, uh . . . Instructor Kinneas might have his bad sides, but my guess is you haven't seen his good."
Zephyr thought for a moment. "Damn. I can't come up with any good retort to that." She held out her hand to Squall with a wry smile. "I believe that's the first time that's ever happened. You have now earned my respect, Headmaster."
"Good." He shook her hand heartily. "I have heard that you have amazing potential, Miss Masters . . ."
"Please, call me Zephyr."
"Okay then, Zephyr. I have heard that you have unparalleled marksmanship and you are a crack explosives expert."
"I try."
"You passed your written exam with flying colors."
"Really? I hadn't heard . . ."
"Yes, you did. Now keep yourself out of trouble this week. Watch your tongue. Do well on the field exam next Thursday, and I think you'll make an excellent SeeD."
Zephyr's eyes lit up. "Really? You really think so?"
"I do. You are free to leave."
"Thank you so much, sir!" She gave him a salute and almost tripped on a chair as she left the room.
"Stay out of trouble!" Squall yelled after her.
"Yes, sir!" he heard yelled back.
He laughed to himself. There was something about her that he liked already. But just through this first conversation, he could tell that underneath the acidic tongue, scathing retorts and twin revolvers, there was still something of a child seeking approval and recognition. And Squall thought that she was well worthy of that recognition. If she could pass that test, and lived up to what he had heard, she would quickly rise through the ranks of SeeD. And if she could keep out of trouble . . .
/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/
"Yo, Lance! That's enough already! I think it's dead!"
"Sorry, Instructor Dincht. I guess I got a little carried away . . ." He gave the bag another vicious kick. Sand started to trickle down the side of the bag. Lance looked guiltily at his Instructor. "Sorry."
"Nah, don't worry about it. It happens all the time." Zell walked over to his desk in the training room and grabbed some duct tape. "Here, techie. You broke it; you can fix it. Can't be harder to fix than all that computer stuff you do." He tossed the tape to Lance, who promptly pushed some of his jet-black hair out of his clear green eyes, and patched the small hole over.
"Oh, the wonders of duct tape," Lance replied with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Yep. Duct tape fixes everything," Zell responded happily.
"Not quite everything," Lance muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. But Zell overheard. He pulled up a chair from the corner of the room for both himself and Lance. The kid, well, not really a kid, Lance was as old as he was, had been in his martial arts and self-defensive courses from day one, and was now almost as good as Zell. Almost. And Zell felt like Lance was a brother.
Zell sat down and motioned for Lance to sit too. "Tell me what's going on." Lance sat down and hunched over with his face in his hands before responding.
"Nothing, I'm fine."
"Don't give me that shit. The last time I attacked a bag like that was when Selphie turned me down for a date a few weeks ago. Now tell me, what's going on?"
"I told you! Nothing!"
"Which idiot girl turned you down for a date?"
"None. I have enough problems. I don't need a girlfriend to wreck my life more."
"Now we're getting somewhere. You admitted you have problems. What are they?" Zell wouldn't back down. Lance was obviously going through something emotionally damaging, and Zell wanted to help him get through it.
"Look," Lance's tone was stony, "I told you enough times. I'm fine. I don't need your help!" He stood up off the chair and grabbed his books from Zell's desk. "I have to go. I'll be late to my next 'techie' course."
"Relax. I'll write you a pass." But Lance wouldn't relax. He still stood stiffly, course books in hand. Zell thought he could see tears about to spill out of his eyes.
(What the hell is going on? Lance is never like this. He's always happy and joking and . . . dammit! I wish I knew what was going on!)
"Mr. Summerton, you will sit down and we will talk about this until I find out what the hell is going on. And don't lie to me. You know I can see straight through your lies."
"Yes, sir." Lance sat back down in his seat. The two of them just sat there, staring at each other. In the distance, the three chimes that signaled the beginning of the next class sounded.
"Don't move, Summerton." He didn't. Zell watched Lance's eyes, after training with him for almost 4 years, he could tell almost exactly what he was thinking just by observing his eyes.
"Dammit! That bitch isn't giving you trouble again, is she?" When Lance didn't respond, he knew he had hit the mark. "God, I don't understand women, do you?" He didn't wait for a reply before continuing. "What did she say about you this time?"
"You don't want to know . . ." Lance replied softly.
"Well, whatever she said, it's not true and you know it! Don't take her shit any longer! I say, next time you see her, give her what she deserves: two black eyes and a broken nose!"
"I can't . . ."
"And why the hell not?" Zell was staring to get exasperated.
"She's Laura's friend. She'd never forgive me if I hit Kyra, no matter how much she deserves it."
"And know Laura's your twin and all, but does she stand up for what she knows isn't true?"
"No . . ." Lance replied uncertainly.
"Exactly. Wanna hit this bag again?"
"Sure."
"Want some duct tape?"
"Can't hurt." Zell was about to walk out of the room to leave Lance alone with his frustrations and a few punching bags, but was stopped by Lance's voice. "Zell? Thanks, man."
Author's Note: There ya go! Chapter # 1 and an introduction to Zephyr and Lance. But don't write them off (especially Lance) as stupid or sissy just cuz what ya saw here . . . Newayz, I will try to update soon, so review and tell me exactly what ya think. As long as ya don't flame me . . . flames are bad . . .
Disclaimer: I don't own any places, characters, yada yada from FF8. I wish I did, though. It would be fun to torture them all. *Wonders how to take over Squaresoft* But, I do own all my oc's including Zephyr and Lance, and any plot twists surrounding them . . . You can borrow, just ask, k?
Not Just a Heart . . .
Chapter One - Duct Tape Fixes Everything . . . Well, almost . . .
"Right kids, first thing's first. Y'all know my name?" The faces of the 'kids,' all actually 14-21 years of age, all had different expressions. Some were comprehensive, others were confused, and some were downright bored. "Okay, since not all of you know my name, I'll start by introducing myself. My name's Irvine Kinneas, and I'm gonna be your basic sniping Instructor for this first semester. And if you just love me so much, you can come back next semester for some intermediate sniping." He laughed at a joke that only he thought was funny.
"Excuse me, Instructor." The young woman who had just addressed Irvine managed to spit out his title like it was bile in her mouth. "But I suggest you be more respectful to your students. I know for a fact how old you are, and some of your students are older than you. I don't want to be called a kid all my life, for God's sake."
The student who had spoken was sitting in the front row of consoles, with her feet perched on the keypad. Her hair was straight and shoulder length, tawny brown with blonde highlights. Her eyes were a deep blue-gray behind circular wire-rimmed glasses, which only helped accentuate the gray in her irises. She was dressed tight black leather pants and a tight black leather jacket over a white long sleeved blouse that showed off her figure well. Irvine also noted the twin revolvers on her belt.
"Miss . . . ?"
"Masters, not that I should tell you. It would have been fun to see the look on your face when you tried to figure out who I was."
"Miss Masters, that's enough of that, thank you very much. I may only be 21, but I am still your Instructor. I deserve a little more respect than that."
"I only respect Instructors as much as they deserve to be respected." The rest of the class sniggered slightly at Miss Masters' last remark.
"Then you can go see if the Headmaster deserves any respect. Now." Irvine pointed out the door.
" . . . Whatever . . ." But despite her unwillingness to go, Miss Masters took her feet off the console and sulked out of the door.
/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/
Squall heard a knock at his door. He hadn't received a call expecting anyone to come. But, if he would have had anything scheduled, he wouldn't remember anyway. He had been so swamped with paperwork lately that he hadn't had any free time in about a week. But that was always the way it was, with the semi-annual SeeD test coming up . . . Now he understood why Cid wanted to leave so desperately.
"Come in." The door opened and a young woman with straight black hair walked in. "Oh, it's only you Rinoa."
"Don't act so enthused to see your beloved wife. Who hasn't seen you for more than two minutes for the past week."
"I'm busy. I have to get all this," he waved his hand towards the piles of papers on his desk, "done before the testing next week."
Rinoa walked over and sat on Squall's lap. "So? The testing is what? Six days away? That's plenty of time. You should relax."
Squall bent around Rinoa to start working on the next paper in front of him. "I can't relax until I have all these papers off my desk."
"Okay then, Mr. Stiff-and-Uppity." Rinoa pushed Squall's arm out of the way and swiped both her hands across his desk, knocking all his papers to the floor. "There. Your desk is clear." She unbuttoned the first three or four buttons on Squall's shirt and slipped her hand inside. "Maybe now you can spend some time with your wife." She leaned forward and kissed him.
(Well, I guess she's right. After all, I do have 6 days . . . ) Squall thought as he slipped his arms around her and returned her kiss. (Hell, I haven't kissed her like this for a week. Maybe I should loosen up. I could always force Xu to do the paperwork.)
Their romantic moment was ruined when Squall's phone rang. "Ignore it," Rinoa pleaded.
"I can't. What if it's something important?" The phone rang again.
"More important than your wife? Who has some very exciting news to tell you?"
"Let me answer my phone, Rinoa." The phone rang a third time, and Rinoa sighed and got off Squall's lap so he could reach across and grab the phone.
"Hello? Oh, hey Irvine. What's up? . . . A troublemaker? Can't be any worse than you, can she? . . . Why did you send her to me? I was busy. . . . New today? What's her name? . . . Zephyr Masters? She's one of the candidates from Trabia for the test next week. She can't have . . . She did what? . . . It's okay, calm down Irvine. . . . Yes, I will talk to her and tell her what's expected. . . . Okay Irvine. . . . Look, calm down! . . . Fine, fine, just go back and teach your next class. . . . Okay, fine. . . . Yes, Irvine, I will try to make her behave. . . . I can't force her to! She's as old as we are, for God's sake! . . . Calm down! Look, go and talk to Selphie or Quistis about it, I'm sure one of them will know what to do. . . . Just because she's rebellious doesn't mean she's a bad person! How many times have I told you . . ." Squall stared at the phone for a second before hanging it back up.
"What happened, honey?"
"A new student from Trabia, one Zephyr Masters, came in today. She's one of the highest ranked new students from the re-built Trabia, and favored to pass the test next week. Supposedly works with guns and explosives. She was in Irvine's Basic Sniping course, what was she doing signed up in that course, I wonder. Anyway, she back talked him and said some pretty disrespectful things."
"Oh. And?"
"And what?"
"What's he going to do about it?"
"He sent her to see me, and then, when I was trying to explain that rebellion and evil are two different things, he hung up on me . . ."
"I see . . . How old is this Zephyr?"
"Same age as us."
"Oh. Well, if she's coming, I'd better go. See you tonight?"
"Hope so."
Just then, the door opened. Zephyr walked in, her eyes taking in the scene: papers scattered all over the floor, a clear desk, and Mrs. Leonheart about to leave. She chuckled suggestively and held the door open for Rinoa to walk out. Squall felt heat rise in his cheeks at her automatic assumption.
After Rinoa left, Squall addressed Zephyr. "Take a seat."
Zephyr spun the chair around and sat in it backwards, still looking at Squall with those mischievous eyes. "That's not the best scene to gain my respect, you know . . ."
"I wasn't expecting Instructor Kinneas to call me with a complaint about a back talking student who failed to show any respect whatsoever."
"Touché. The only counter I have to that is that he didn't deserve my respect, so he didn't get it."
"And who's to say that you're the judge of who deserves respect? Irvine, uh . . . Instructor Kinneas might have his bad sides, but my guess is you haven't seen his good."
Zephyr thought for a moment. "Damn. I can't come up with any good retort to that." She held out her hand to Squall with a wry smile. "I believe that's the first time that's ever happened. You have now earned my respect, Headmaster."
"Good." He shook her hand heartily. "I have heard that you have amazing potential, Miss Masters . . ."
"Please, call me Zephyr."
"Okay then, Zephyr. I have heard that you have unparalleled marksmanship and you are a crack explosives expert."
"I try."
"You passed your written exam with flying colors."
"Really? I hadn't heard . . ."
"Yes, you did. Now keep yourself out of trouble this week. Watch your tongue. Do well on the field exam next Thursday, and I think you'll make an excellent SeeD."
Zephyr's eyes lit up. "Really? You really think so?"
"I do. You are free to leave."
"Thank you so much, sir!" She gave him a salute and almost tripped on a chair as she left the room.
"Stay out of trouble!" Squall yelled after her.
"Yes, sir!" he heard yelled back.
He laughed to himself. There was something about her that he liked already. But just through this first conversation, he could tell that underneath the acidic tongue, scathing retorts and twin revolvers, there was still something of a child seeking approval and recognition. And Squall thought that she was well worthy of that recognition. If she could pass that test, and lived up to what he had heard, she would quickly rise through the ranks of SeeD. And if she could keep out of trouble . . .
/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/*-*/
"Yo, Lance! That's enough already! I think it's dead!"
"Sorry, Instructor Dincht. I guess I got a little carried away . . ." He gave the bag another vicious kick. Sand started to trickle down the side of the bag. Lance looked guiltily at his Instructor. "Sorry."
"Nah, don't worry about it. It happens all the time." Zell walked over to his desk in the training room and grabbed some duct tape. "Here, techie. You broke it; you can fix it. Can't be harder to fix than all that computer stuff you do." He tossed the tape to Lance, who promptly pushed some of his jet-black hair out of his clear green eyes, and patched the small hole over.
"Oh, the wonders of duct tape," Lance replied with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Yep. Duct tape fixes everything," Zell responded happily.
"Not quite everything," Lance muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. But Zell overheard. He pulled up a chair from the corner of the room for both himself and Lance. The kid, well, not really a kid, Lance was as old as he was, had been in his martial arts and self-defensive courses from day one, and was now almost as good as Zell. Almost. And Zell felt like Lance was a brother.
Zell sat down and motioned for Lance to sit too. "Tell me what's going on." Lance sat down and hunched over with his face in his hands before responding.
"Nothing, I'm fine."
"Don't give me that shit. The last time I attacked a bag like that was when Selphie turned me down for a date a few weeks ago. Now tell me, what's going on?"
"I told you! Nothing!"
"Which idiot girl turned you down for a date?"
"None. I have enough problems. I don't need a girlfriend to wreck my life more."
"Now we're getting somewhere. You admitted you have problems. What are they?" Zell wouldn't back down. Lance was obviously going through something emotionally damaging, and Zell wanted to help him get through it.
"Look," Lance's tone was stony, "I told you enough times. I'm fine. I don't need your help!" He stood up off the chair and grabbed his books from Zell's desk. "I have to go. I'll be late to my next 'techie' course."
"Relax. I'll write you a pass." But Lance wouldn't relax. He still stood stiffly, course books in hand. Zell thought he could see tears about to spill out of his eyes.
(What the hell is going on? Lance is never like this. He's always happy and joking and . . . dammit! I wish I knew what was going on!)
"Mr. Summerton, you will sit down and we will talk about this until I find out what the hell is going on. And don't lie to me. You know I can see straight through your lies."
"Yes, sir." Lance sat back down in his seat. The two of them just sat there, staring at each other. In the distance, the three chimes that signaled the beginning of the next class sounded.
"Don't move, Summerton." He didn't. Zell watched Lance's eyes, after training with him for almost 4 years, he could tell almost exactly what he was thinking just by observing his eyes.
"Dammit! That bitch isn't giving you trouble again, is she?" When Lance didn't respond, he knew he had hit the mark. "God, I don't understand women, do you?" He didn't wait for a reply before continuing. "What did she say about you this time?"
"You don't want to know . . ." Lance replied softly.
"Well, whatever she said, it's not true and you know it! Don't take her shit any longer! I say, next time you see her, give her what she deserves: two black eyes and a broken nose!"
"I can't . . ."
"And why the hell not?" Zell was staring to get exasperated.
"She's Laura's friend. She'd never forgive me if I hit Kyra, no matter how much she deserves it."
"And know Laura's your twin and all, but does she stand up for what she knows isn't true?"
"No . . ." Lance replied uncertainly.
"Exactly. Wanna hit this bag again?"
"Sure."
"Want some duct tape?"
"Can't hurt." Zell was about to walk out of the room to leave Lance alone with his frustrations and a few punching bags, but was stopped by Lance's voice. "Zell? Thanks, man."
Author's Note: There ya go! Chapter # 1 and an introduction to Zephyr and Lance. But don't write them off (especially Lance) as stupid or sissy just cuz what ya saw here . . . Newayz, I will try to update soon, so review and tell me exactly what ya think. As long as ya don't flame me . . . flames are bad . . .