Reposted (technical difficulties).

A/N- I have returned after a long and trying period in my life... my father passed away last month and I'm still recovering, so writing is helping to keep me occupied. I thought I'd also give you fair warning that this is nothing like Time Apart was... It's a completely alternate universe, but I think some of you will like it anyway... Time Apart was a lame first attempt at this stuff. Oh, and it was brought to my attention that some of you may think Jax is a reference to a character in mortal combat, but I assure you they're unconnected. So, here's the beginning of The Wrong Way (affectionately named after the Sublime song Wrong Way... imagine that).

The Wrong Way

1. Alcohol and Anecdotes

The Wooden Nickel Bar was strangely unoccupied, and the only sounds were the blaring rock music from the juke box, the tinkering of ice in the glasses of the evening's few customers, and the soft thud as their drinks were being set back on their tables. There was little other noise, no chatter, which was unusual for Saturday night at a usually popular corner pub.

The brown haired bartender was disgustingly aware of the lack of business as he looked at his tip jar, frowning. On any given night of the week, it was usually brimming with bills, crumpled ones given liberally from the sloppily drunken college boys who frequented the bar, and neatly folded stacks of bills, mostly given by scantily clad women, smitten by the handsome young man serving their trendy cosmopolitans and hoping to be taken advantage of after business hours. Squall generally found these women repulsive, however, and most nights went home with no one or nothing more than a bottle of Pinot Noir or Jack Daniels, depending on his mood, and a pack of Camels.

Glancing at the clock, Squall groaned and made the announcement for last call, then began doing his closing side work, which usually consisted of cleaning and reorganizing the bar, and occasionally included swiping a shot of white tequila here and there.

He served the last few drinks for his remaining customers, then ushered them out the door as soon as their empty bottles and glasses hit the tables, locking up behind them. He then finished his work, put enough money in the register for the bottle of Jack Daniels he'd put in his coat pocket, then locked up the bar behind him as he began the walk to his apartment three blocks away.

Reaching his door, he shuffled inside, flipping a switch to illuminate the minimally furnished living room with the room's only lamp. He immediately jacked his cell phone in the charger, purely out of habit at this point rather than out of excessive use. Letting out a sigh of relief, he spread out onto his gray sofa while unscrewing the cap from his bottle of whiskey, then took a long and slow pull from it, fighting a grimace as the raucous liquid went down his throat.

He sat there for a long time, only moving to bring the bottle up to his lips then back down again, and stared at the bare wall in front of him. After about a half hour, he fished a cigarette from the pack that rested on the room's only table, a square cherry wood end table on the side of the sofa, and lit it up, his exceptionally pale blue eyes immediately returning to their previous position on the wall after completing the task. There wasn't anything particularly fascinating about that wall, but he didn't have the desire to do anything else with himself, and even if he did, there wasn't much else to do near four in the morning, let alone in his nearly empty two bedroom apartment.

Squall hated television, therefore he didn't own one. He had many books on various subjects, but he had read them all, most more than once. He had a stereo, and he loved music, but that only occupied him so much and he would end up just sitting back on the couch, doing the same thing, only with musical accompaniment.

It startled him sometimes, just how often he had nights like this. He worked in the bar every night except Sunday, and his few friends had day jobs, meaning he saw them maybe every couple of weeks if their schedules allowed it. Any other friends he had made over the past decade usually just drifted in and out of his life, appearing once every couple of years, then vanishing, only to repeat the process in the next two or three years.

Women in his life seemed to follow a similar pattern. He'd had several relationships in his twenty-six years, some more serious than others, but they tended to fade over time and usually ended civilly. Once in a while, old flames would re-emerge and it would be fun for a while, but it never lasted, always leaving Squall wondering if he had a problem with commitment, or if he truly was convinced that there was something better out there. Either way, actively seeking a lover had never been a priority, and maybe never would be.

But he couldn't deny the nagging feeling that tugged at his gut when he thought of being alone, as was happening now. Shuddering, he looked at the cigarette he'd been smoking, which was now down to the filter, and stubbed it out in the ceramic ashtray next to the pack. Screwing the cap back on the near empty bottle, he settled back into a comfortable position and closed his eyes, allowing sleep to relieve his tired body.


After about three hours, a high pitched ring filled the living room, sending Squall into a fit of tired swearing. Not bothering to open his eyes, his hand fumbled carelessly around the end table until he finally came across his cell phone and flipped it open, still jacked to the charger.

"What?" he barked into the phone.

"Morning to you, too, sugar lips," a wry male voice responded.

"Jax?" Squall said, finally opening his eyes in surprise.

"Heh heh. How ya doing, Squall?"

"It's seven in the fucking morning, Jax, take a guess. Jesus, where the hell have you been? It's been like two years."

Jax chuckled, "We'll have time to catch up later, I just wanted to call and let you know to expect us around four."

"You're coming here? Today?" Squall choked, sitting up.

"You figured that out, did you? Boy, you've got skills."

"You said 'us'. Who's coming with you?"

"My girlfriend. You'll like her. See you today, four pm. I'll meet you at the Wooden Nickel."

"Wait- Jax? Jax are y-" Squall stopped himself at the sound of the phone clicking off. "Fuck."

He grumbled a bit, standing from the couch and stumbling to the bathroom.

Squall wasn't sure what to think at that moment. Jax McRae had been one of those friends-- ever flowing in and out of his life, often coming around when he needed money or a place to stay, usually both, then leaving at the first sign of trouble, which he usually caused. The people he brought around with him were rarely any different. Fortunately, Squall had learned Jax's tricks and stopped giving in to him nearly two years ago, and had every intention of turning him away again if he overstayed his welcome this time.

Not to say that Squall didn't like the guy. He often found Jax entertaining and they always had a good time together, at least until Jax did something stupid. He was a typical hot-head, always getting into fights over something dumb... gambling debts, drugs, sometimes just because he was drunk, flirting, even sometimes sleeping with women who had jealous boyfriends.

Grumbling again at the thought of the trouble he was certain was coming, Squall entered the shower wondering just what this visit was all about, and praying that he wouldn't be asked to bail anyone out of jail. Not that I will.


At 4:07, Squall entered the Wooden Nickel and found to no surprise that Jax hadn't arrived yet. He took an empty seat at the bar and decided he would give Jax twenty minutes before he left and resumed his normal Sunday errands.

"Hey Squall," a slightly shrill voice said. "What are you doing here on your day off?"

Squall looked up to see Selphie, one of the part time bartenders, her big green eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

"Hey, Selph," he said. "Just meeting someone here."

"Oh. Well, can I get you anything while you're waiting?"

"Water would be good, thanks."

"What's this?" an amused voice said from behind him. "The Squall I know only drinks water when he's hung over. You hung over, Squally?"

"Couldn't you tell by the hostility on the phone this morning?" Squall replied, turning to face the tall figure of Jax.

"Oh, is that what that was?" he chuckled. "Man, I thought your were having sex, and I was enjoying thinking I interrupted." Grinning, he offered an outstretched hand to Squall, which he accepted and shook tightly.

"So, how are you?" Squall began. "What brings you back here?"

"Ah... well, we'll get to that, man, we'll get to that," Jax said, rubbing a hand over his thin black Vandyke. "First I want you to meet someone. This is Rinoa. Rinny, this is Squall."

Squall then saw the girl that was standing behind Jax as she stepped out and extended her hand to him.

"Hi," she said, offering a warm smile. "Jax has told me a lot about you. It's good to finally meet you."

"Yeah, nice to meet you, too," Squall replied, glancing over her.

She was medium height, had dark hair tied back with what looked like chopsticks, and large dark eyes, framed by black-rimmed, cat-eye framed glasses. Her body was thin, almost too thin, and she wore dark blue jeans and a white tank top.

He let himself stare a little longer than he should have, trying to gather a fair assessment. She was pretty... not terribly remarkable, not gorgeous, but she was attractive in a cute, quirky way.

"So, uh, what brings you both here?" Squall asked.

"Well... I've got something of a business opportunity going," Jax explained, taking a seat next to Squall, Rinoa taking a seat as well. "So, I'm moving back here."

"What kind of business?" Squall asked, not sure he really wanted to know. Business was never a good word when Jax spoke it.

"Ah, nothing too interesting, really. So what have you been up to these past two years? Still working here?"

"Six nights a week."

"No shit? So, how's tricks? Got a girlfriend?"

"No, not for a while now. How long have you two been together?"

"Almost a year," Jax stated proudly, his arm wrapping possessively around Rinoa's shoulders, to which she yielded no response. "This little wildcat and I are just crazy for each other, right, doll?"

Rinoa gave a scoff and something of an annoyed smirk, then waved to Selphie. "Can I get a Cape Cod, please?"

"Sure, darlin'," Selphie answered, grabbing a rocks glass and a bottle of cranberry juice simultaneously. "Can I get either of you boys something?"

"Rum and Coke," Jax said.

"Got it. Squall, more water?"

"How about a shot?" Squall said, shrugging.

"The usual?" Selphie asked as she poured vodka and cranberry juice into the rocks glass, knowing the answer. She served Rinoa her drink, quickly dispensed rum and Coke into another glass, then filled a shot glass with Patron Silver.

"What do we owe ya, cutie?" Jax asked as she placed their drinks in front of them, winking at the small brunette.

"On the house," Selphie said, as if it was obvious. "Any friend of Squall's is a friend of mine."

Squall swallowed down his shot and pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket, and offered one to his companions.

Jax shook his head, giving a disgusted look.

Rinoa smiled gratefully and accepted one. "Thanks."

"Babe, you know I don't like it when you smoke," Jax said sternly with a furrowed brow, glaring at her.

"And you know I don't give a damn," she replied, not batting an eye as she glanced back at him.

Squall smirked and lit it for her. It was refreshing to see someone else not letting Jax have his way, and he silently congratulated her with a bigger smile, then lit one for himself, making sure to exhale smoke in Jax's direction.

"Aw, you guys suck," he groaned.

Rinoa chuckled and sent a wink at Squall, glad to see she had a teammate.

"So, where are you guys staying?" Squall asked before he could stop himself from opening that can of worms.

"Well, until we get an apartment or something, we'll be in that hotel, you know, the one across the street from that old shitty apartment you used to live in just down the street... man, that place was trashy." Jax said.

"Oh, you mean the Red Apple Hotel?"

"Yeah."

"I still live in that apartment, jack ass," Squall said in a low voice, feigning anger. "I oughta knock your teeth in."

Jax gave a conciliatory smile and squirmed. "Oh... well... it's not that bad... I mean, yours was nice-"

"Jax," Squall interrupted, chuckling. "It's okay, I was kidding. Man, it's so much fun seeing you put on the spot like that. It's just... so easy."

Rinoa let out a laugh.

Jax gave her a look, then glanced at Squall, seeing the knowing look that momentarily passed between the two of them, letting his irritation get the better of him.

"Jerk off. I'm going back to the fuckin' hotel," Jax grumbled, jerking out of his seat, obviously annoyed. "See you guys later."

He stormed out, throwing the door open and slamming it with a hard thud.

Squall watched him go, the amusement lingering on his smirking lips, then turned to Rinoa, who was equally amused by the display of sensitivity.

"He do this a lot?" Squall asked her.

"What? Get pissed off and leave me places or were you referring to his easily bruised ego?"

"I meant about him leaving you places."

"Sure, he does it all the time," she said nonchalantly.

"He does... hmmm... and you're okay with this?"

"I can handle myself just fine," she replied, pushing her glasses up with a finger. "If he wants to get upset at minuscule bullshit, that's his problem. I can always find a ride home. He'll be over it in the morning, anyway."

"Interesting," Squall muttered, taking a drag off of his cigarette. "And what if you don't know anyone nearby to give you ride home?"

"You think that's ever stopped me?"

"What... you hitch?"

"Sure."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

She gave him a look out of the corner of her eye. "Everything's dangerous these days. Red meat, smoking, salt, sugar, airplanes... heh... the air... microwaving Styrofoam..." she paused, then her expression became thoughtful. "Tell me this-- can you really avoid stepping on wet tile floors your whole life?" She smirked when he just blinked. "You've gotta pick your poisons."

Squall stared thoughtfully at her, a smile returning to his lips.

"You are not like any other girls he's brought around before."

She shrugged, turning to face him more fully. "Maybe that's why this is the longest relationship he's been in. Needed someone to give him a lot of shit and slap him around for once."

Squall laughed at that. She was certainly different than most girls he'd met in his whole life. Most women would fawn over someone dark and handsome like Jax and cater to his whim, but this was the first woman he'd seen near Jax that didn't. And she's his fucking girlfriend he thought, amused.

"Not to say that I don't appreciate him. He's got good intentions and we have fun, but anyway... So, Squall, have you always lived here?" she asked, exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

"No... I traveled around a bit when I was younger, but settled here when I was about twenty-two."

"Oh? How old are you now?"

"Twenty-six."

"Four years. That's pretty impressive."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I've never lived anywhere longer than eighteen months. I suppose I just can't seem to find my place in life. Nothing really... fits. So far, anyway. I've tried so many things, some I know I shouldn't have, known many different kinds of people... I don't seem to be compatible with anyone or anything. Maybe I'm just stuck up or elitist... or maybe everyone else is, I don't know... But, anyway, I'm only twenty-four, so who knows where I'll end up."

Squall wasn't sure why he was so amazed at the openness in her self-deprecating admission. She hadn't divulged any top-secret information, but she was just so... unaffected and honest. He liked her more by the minute. He usually found it unnerving when conversations started turning personal and philosophical but he found himself telling her how much he related.

"... and I never really thought I'd be here so long," he was saying," but I guess maybe the loneliness and isolation got really... comfortable... after a while. I mean, sure I've had relationships and friends..."

And on it went. She would nod in understanding and tell her own stories, both marveling at their similarities and wondering if maybe everyone felt like this at some point.

"... So, I started dating Jax after he started coming into the casino I was working in every night, begging me for a date. I finally gave in, and I... got to like him after a while. He was certainly more promising than any of the others I had been dating, which is a whole other story. I think maybe it's comforting to be with someone who seems just as fucked up, if not more so, than yourself," she sighed, sipping at melting ice in the bottom of her glass.

"I know exactly what you mean," Squall said, lighting another cigarette for himself, then giving one to her. "My last relationship was just like that... two fucked up people just feeding off of each other, too distracted by the other's problems to have to think about their own. It just got too messy and ended... not terribly, but it wasn't exactly a pleasant experience. That was about four or five months ago now."

She nodded and smiled warmly. "I like you, Squall. I have to be honest... I was expecting another idiot low-life like all the other friends Jax has introduced me to. You're different, though. I can see why Jax is so intimidated by you."

Squall raised an eyebrow. "You think he's intimidated by me?"

"You don't?" she returned. "Well, he's been wanting to come back to town and start this business thing of his for about three months now and just barely got the courage to come and do it. All because of you and what you'll say to him."

"How do you figure?"

"He told me. He said he thinks of you as his big brother, ever watchful and ever superior. I wasn't sure what to expect."

Squall wasn't sure how to respond. Part of him wanted to retort how easy it was to be superior to an obsessive, drug abusing, gambling screw-up like Jax, but he hesitated. He was beginning to think that maybe Jax had things better than he did for once, at least in one aspect of his life.

He looked long and hard at Rinoa and smiled at her, feeling that tug of loneliness at the pit of his stomach.

"I really should go now," Rinoa sighed, standing. She took a five from the red purse she carried and dropped it into the tip jar. "Gotta go check on the little pubescent one. I've really enjoyed talking to you. I'm sure I'll be seeing more of you."

"Yeah," Squall mumbled. "I hope so. Tell Jax to give me a call later. Maybe we can all go out or something."

"Tonight?" she asked, her dark eyes lighting up. "Sure. If he doesn't wanna go, I'll ditch him for tonight and give you a call. Give me your number."

She winked at him and got a pen from her purse and snatched a napkin from the dispenser atop the bar, then pushed them his way. He quickly scrawled his cell number and gave it back, then walked her to the door.

"I guess I'll see you guys later," he said, opening the door for her.

"You bet," she agreed. "See ya."

She gave him one last smile then turned and began walking away, toward the direction of their hotel and Squall's apartment. Taking a heavy breath, Squall turned and walked back to his seat at the bar, a smile creeping up to his own lips as he thought about seeing her again tonight.

"Selphie?" he called.

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"Can you make me some coffee?"


A/N- Ah, there it is... the first chapter that kept evading me is finally written. I hope I still have a few fans out there to read my new story, even though the premise and universe are completely different. Speaking of which, I'm thinking of taking Time Apart down, because I did that one stupid thing- going back and reading it again to see how badly written it really was. If anyone wants me to keep it up, I will... I'll just have to think of it as an excusable first draft since it was my first stab at video game fanfiction. I'm trying hard to make this one better... more relationship dynamics, character development, and all that good stuff. This one may be a little more adult-oriented than T.A., so you have that to look forward to. Anyway, let me know what you think.

DBH, if you're still out there, I could use one of your inspiring reviews:)

Oh, and someone asked me before what a Vandyke was, so I'll assume some of you may not know... It's like a goatee only a goatee is just chin hair... the Vandyke is the upper lip hair as well as chin hair (like a goatee and mustache together).