Superiority

Seifer swore to himself that if Zell said another word, just one more word, he'd finally let himself scream at the SeeD to shut up. Zell drummed his fingers on the car door, gloved flesh tapping out one of the two variations on the same rhythm that he'd alternated between for the last hour. It was quiet except for that faint beat and Seifer actually found himself sinking back into the driver's seat, relaxing just a bit. Sweet, merciful sil-

"So you come down here to fish a lot, right?" Zell spoke so suddenly and quickly that Seifer's little pledge to himself was knocked aside. "What about at night? Can you fish at night? I mean, when I think of you fishing it's not at night, that's seems like it'd be hard. I mean, fish have to sleep sometimes right? Do fish sleep at night?" Seifer was still staring out through the windshield at the dock but he felt Zell looking at him.

Seifer couldn't understand why Zell wouldn't just focus on his job. Zell was the one who was a SeeD, who had responsibility for this mission. Seifer just happened to be a useful, inconspicuous contact, and as it was turning out, the only useful observer in the car. He finally gave in and glanced over at Zell, a scowl starting to unfold across his face.

He'd expected Zell to look overly eager, or maybe tough like he was glad he didn't end up like Seifer, whiling away his days peacefully working odd jobs instead of being part of some big cause like SeeD. But Zell just seemed curious to know his fishing habits and Seifer couldn't keep the glare up.

"I don't know when they sleep. But it's hard to see the line at night."

"Huh." Zell seemed to need a moment to digest that bit of information and Seifer was happy to let him have it. He was finding out that life was more livable without constantly trying to get under people's skin, always trying to prove that he was the best. Seifer wasn't the best, and he liked to think that he was okay with that. He was just turning back to look out the window when he heard Zell open the glovebox. Before Seifer could stop him, Zell saw what was inside. "Is this your gun?" he asked.

Seifer had hoped this wouldn't come up. Zell started to reach for it and Seifer quickly – but not too quickly, he didn't want to get Zell too anxious – took it first, feeling its weight for a moment before it was snatched away by a gloved hand shooting in from the window. "Zell, you're arming him? Seifer?"

"Hey, I think it's his gun. I just found it two seconds ago."

Seifer looked up at a pair of unblinking gray eyes and smiled. "What seems to be the problem, officer?" Squall just stared back and the corners of Seifer's mouth fell. "It's the town that makes the laws, not Garden, and I've got the right permit," he said. "I'm not going to be unarmed when I'm showing SeeD where the real gunrunners offload their cargo."

Squall opened his mouth to reply and there was an explosion of glass between them as a bullet punched through the corner of the windshield. Seifer wasn't sure, but Squall seemed to duck even before he heard the gunshot. The pistol clattered to the pavement and Seifer opened the door, starting to grab for it before another bullet whined nearby and instinct made him slide low in his seat. Motion beside him drew his eye away from the dead glow of the speedometer and he saw Squall's hand on Lionheart's hilt as he crouched behind the open car door for cover. Seifer thought Squall seemed focused and actually showed a little annoyance even though a round could punch through the metal and plastic of the car door at any moment, and Seifer suddenly desperately wanted to know the exact moment during the war that Squall had become braver than him.

Squall spoke to Zell. "Come on." Zell somehow bounced out of the car while staying behind the shelter of his door, and Seifer started to follow him before Squall's hand stopped him. "Not you." He nodded to Zell. "Wait for it…" he started and then the rhythm of the gunfire skipped a beat and the two broke cover to sprint forward.

Seifer found himself surprised they could move as fast as they did, even though he had once moved even quicker. They had all been better during the war. But even without the GFs, the SeeDs' skills were unmatched. Seifer sat there, his door half-open, and watched as Squall and Zell seemed to teleport left and right, always behind cover when there were bullets in the air and always advancing when there weren't. A few of the thugs without guns had pulled out knives or brass knuckles and started toward the SeeDs, but they were ignored as Squall and Zell dodged them and got to the gunmen. The men spun around, at first because they were trying to aim at the blurs of motion around them. Then they were spinning because Zell had broken half the bones in their body, or because Squall had cut a leg out from under them.

With the actual threats dispatched, Squall and Zell turned back to the two who were left. Seifer wondered if they were determined to avenge their friends, if they hadn't seen how quickly and easily those friends were slaughtered. The big pile of muscles hefted a length of chain and the guy with a Galbadian sword actually taunted Squall. "Hey, leather boy, let's throw down!"

SeeDs and soldiers were the only ones so well-trained that it made sense for them to wield a weapon, like a sword, that was simply an extension of themselves. Seifer saw that foolish man grinning a bright white smile that was quickly obscured by a flash of even brighter silver. Under the fluorescent lamps, the spray of blood looked almost as cold as the steel that sent it flying from the man's veins.

A sick crack echoed through the night. Zell had ducked the length of chain and come up behind the guy, wrapping the metal back around his neck and driving his foot into his back to snap his neck. He turned to Squall and smiled.

There was a glint of metal and Seifer thought it was just Lionheart moving too fast for his eyes to follow before he realized one of the gunmen hadn't bled out yet and was drawing a bead on Squall, who had his back turned. Seifer snatched his gun from off the pavement where Squall had dropped it and snapped it up to aim at the man.

His eyes followed the iron sights as they moved up past the door of the car, over the bit of window glass still sticking up, out over the concrete and crates on the pier. And then, for a moment so brief that only Seifer himself could have ever noticed it, the sights were lingering over the strip of skin between cool blue eyes and warm brown hair. Then Seifer was aiming at the man on the ground and pulling the trigger to send a bullet past Squall and into the skull of the man who might have shot him.

The gunblader whirled and Seifer saw a burst of fury and confirmation in his eyes that took a half-second to fade to comprehension. Squall glanced over his shoulder at the man on the ground, blood pooling around his head now as well as his waist, and nodded to Seifer.

Seifer let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. His hand shook a little as he put the gun back in the glovebox. Squall came up to the window and looked at him for a second before speaking.

"Just get out of here, I don't want to have to explain your part in this. Have your car fixed and send Zell the bill, we'll add it to your fee." Without waiting for a reply, Squall turned and pulled out a phone, walking back toward Zell as he dialed a number.

Seifer looked at the open glovebox where the pistol lay. Then his eyes moved out the window and over the harbor. Under the moonlight the quiet water had a cold glint, as if the beer cans and fish hooks at the bottom were bouncing the moon's pale glow back to the surface. Without looking away from the water, Seifer reached over and shut the glovebox, then started the engine and turned back toward town.