There was nothing worse than having things to do but not being able to do them because of other people - especially when there was no way around it without worse consequences.

And right now, Squall was in this boat.

Zell might have gone from the other side of the counter to flitting about the café, picking up errant dishes here and there to tidy up the place, but it sure as hell didn't preclude him necessarily from listening in. He knew Quistis for too long to assume other people didn't make a habit of pretending to do something else to lull the targets into a false sense of security in order to eavesdrop with ease.

They were both done polishing off their food and there was only so long he could slow down his coffee drinking to a painful crawl before someone would suspect something was up with the way he was nursing it. For what it was worth, he already suspected she was deliberately slowing down her pace too so it wasn't going unnoticed. He only hoped she was reading into things differently if it wasn't his imagination.

Setting down her cup once again, she unzipped the top of her laptop bag and drew the laptop out. Wordlessly, she lifted the lid and hit the power button. It was only after she'd entered in her password – Angelo9367 - that she looked back at him.

"I know, it's kind of rude but I forgot my cell phone at the place I'm staying at and I want to write down what you told me before I forget as well as a few things that reminded me of a few other things I need to do."

"It's not that big of a deal." he told her. "Not when this is a country where some people have cell phones surgically attached to them."

At first she stared at him for a solid second before letting out a belated snicker. "Your deadpan humour is taking me for a ride again."

"I can understand why you'd assume that but I was being serious." he said, draining the last of his cup in spite of himself. "There's a procedure to embed implants in your ear and wrist to send and receive texts and voicemail. I wouldn't be surprised if there was someone out there working on embedding smart phone capabilities."

Rinoa just stared at him for the longest time, furrowing her brows and scrunching her nose for added effect as the seconds passed. He said and emoted nothing to alter his expression in any shape or form when she decided to wag an accusatory finger at him about a solid minute in.

"…I'm on you." she declared under her breath in mock indignation. She wagged her finger once more. "-Onto you, even."

Squall bit his tongue so hard he could taste copper. She was going to be the death of him. Or he was going to be the death of her. He wasn't sure which. All he knew was this was going to be omitted whenever he'd get around to reporting to Quistis; it might be the death of her if she was made aware that the possible source of this grave ECC case predicament was a coat-in-bag-stuffing, expression-mangler.

Or so he rationalized to himself.

He pointed to her laptop. "You should probably write what you meant to write in that open e-document."

"Yes. Yes I should." she agreed, turning to the screen and typing away. It didn't take her long to cover most of what he and Zell had told her in bullet-point form, glancing his way no more than a minute later. "Any other tidbits of hidden Estharian culture I should add while I'm at it? I'll bribe you with more coffee and/or food if you do."

He mulled it over. Not her question, no – he was already going to say yes for obvious reasons — but rather whether or not to propose a counter-offer of dinner elsewhere for full-course meals of info instead of mere scraps. It had been so long since he'd bothered to interact with the opposite sex in anything but a professional or friendship-oriented capacity he couldn't remember if this would be considered too much of a gamble in perceived forwardness.

"I'm not hungry now but that sounds good."

"Cool beans."

He raised a brow. "Cool…beans?"

"You've never heard of cool beans as an expression?"

Squall shook his head.

"What? Really? Well, it just means cool. Not sure why we add the beans to that though to be quite honest with you." she admitted. "Then again, I think I actually got it from here now that I think about it. The only thing that seems to be sticking in my mind is that I'd heard someone actually groan with an overextended 'cool…beeeeeeeans?' in response to something. It might have even been here."

"Weird expressions and expressions evolve and morph all the time." he shrugged. "It took me awhile to realize that Estharians don't use creature-related sayings like, 'Moomba got your tongue,' or 'two Chocobos, one stone.' Most of their idioms either involve either cleanliness or efficiency."

He could practically see the lightbulb go off over her head.

"Western Galbadia or Winhill?"

"Winhill." he answered. "Moved here with my mom when I was 5. I'm 28 now."

"Ah. So I suppose that explains why you're giving me the time of day." Squall said nothing in regards to that unfounded comment before she prattled on. "So if you don't mind me asking, was it hard to adjust here as a kid?"

"It was probably as hard as it would be to move anywhere at that age, I imagine." he guessed, never really having given the question much thought before. "…I think it probably helped that my mother was already familiar with how communities intolerant to outsiders operate so she found ways to help me navigate that and pick my battles."

"So what was it about here that made it worth staying?" she asked, "I mean, I get the allure of moving here when you don't know about all the ugliness. But staying seems like another beast to conquer altogether."

"We're only here because my mother was shrewd enough to make people forget we don't belong by playing her cards right." he found himself answering. "I don't know what she had told you but…my father went missing before I was born. Was believed to have ended up here according to a few reports she found. When the last relative of hers died in Winhill, she used the sizeable inheritance she received to relocate us to Neo-Esthar. The rest was history, more or less."

"Oh wow, that's…um, quite a story." she mumbled, her eyes as wide as dinner plates before her gaze faltered altogether. "…I hope you didn't feel obligated to share that just because I asked. I know I'm nosy by nature but I didn't mean to pry."

"You didn't. I don't tell people things I don't want to."

"Ok. Good to know." she said, slowly re-establishing eye contact with him. "Was he…ever, um, found?"

Squall shook his head. "It ended up being someone else - men of his general height, build and complexion are fairly common here. Wouldn't be surprised if she knew it wasn't him before we moved but dared to hope anyway."

"…If I wasn't 99.9 percent sure she wasn't a hug person already, I'd give your mom the biggest hug ever." Rinoa uttered in a tiny and distant-sounding voice that was giving Squall flashbacks to the time Selphie was about to murder Quistis in cold blood for misplacing her model train kit minus the murderous intent. "…I've lost a parent myself and even I cannot even imagine going through that."

"Even if she were, she wouldn't want the pity." he told her, followed by a quick scan of the floor. Zell was still at the opposite corner of the place, chatting up some seniors in a likely attempt to free some dishes held hostage. "His disappearance isn't something she hides – most people learn about it sooner or later if they ask enough questions. Zell spent the first day on the job assuming he was going to be fired because he put his foot in his mouth when he asked if my dad helped out around here too."

Rinoa visibly grimaced, scrunching her nose. "Awkward."

"Very." he agreed before switching subjects. "…Getting back to the actual agreement, can you explain what it is you're trying to write that you needed the research for?"

"-Oh, right. Guess we got super sidetracked." she stammered, a small giggle taking her by surprise as she closed the lid. "As far as your question, the gist of what I'm trying to write is like one of those stories where you have different point of views from the same general area and they all come together towards the end for the main overarching plot."

She intertwined her fingers together to pantomime the last point.

"Long story short and no pun intended, my day job so to speak involves looking at various scripts and manuscripts for other people, making suggestions for dialogue or content alterations as a kind of second pair of eyes before people send them off to publishing companies. Between being an avid reader to begin with and that, I tried my hand at writing a book of my own by self-publishing. People seemed to like it well enough and it paid a few bills here and there but you know how you get that…I don't know, feeling of having to top yourself or at least prove that you can do something again to tell yourself the first time wasn't a fluke?"

"You're trying to do that with this story you're working on now?"

"It wasn't at first but I ended up with an axe to grind. After I scrapped an entire novel because it felt uninspired, I wanted to really push myself creatively." she honestly answered. "Nearly a year ago, I was doing script work on a series of these…I don't know how to describe it other than 'weirdly-detailed character biographies' for a client - I think it might have been for an indie tv series or video game. If I had to guess it was probably the latter because they asked me to take a look at each one and change the highlighted sections in the bio to something happier but something that could realistically fit in with the other bio facts so no 'they suddenly won the lottery' or 'it was all just a bad dream.' I think I was making up 'good ending' scenarios for these characters. Anyway, since all the bios were so different from one another, that gave me the idea to make my new story one of those intertwining narratives because I thought it would fit the bill for an interesting and challenging idea. Only problem is, I came here to research how I'd approach a certain arc only to realize how unrealistic all of it is because…well, a few key characters aren't from Esthar and changing their backgrounds doesn't make sense in the narrative. They're actually kind of similar to you and Zell in origin story if anything and…wow, I never realized how meta this is. Maybe this'll solve my block."

Squall blinked. "…Meta?"

"It's hard to explain but the best way I can put it is that meta means when something is referring to what it is. Like if you were to tell a joke about telling jokes or a make movie about making movies. In this case, I'm an outsider in Esthar trying to figure out how outsiders in Esthar would interact with Estharians by talking to an Estharian and you're still lost, aren't you?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. Not that it matters."

"Fair enough." she said. "So I never did get around to telling you what I need help on, did I?"

"No."

"Ok. Well, the gist of what I'm going for needs one not super-obvious way for people of different backgrounds to cross paths. Basically the antagonist uses this place to pick targets so it's hard to establish a connection at first. And maybe some other place where one foreigner and an Estharian has an excuse to talk that wouldn't require some kind of situation like this. My original plot had that second place be a shop but since most are either unmanned or there's minimal contact with clerks, that's making it extra unlikely and I'd rather not take artistic liberties if I can help it."

Squall took a moment to thoughtfully consider her question since it didn't appear to be related to her freelance work despite it serving as inspiration for it. The first requirement had a no brainer solution. The second place however, was proving to be a challenge.

"The easiest place to have people of different social and economic backgrounds is in our medical super-complexes – they host general practitioners, medical specialists and facilities for testing and rehabilitation. Each region has one and every resident has access to any of them free of charge because it's fully-funded by taxpayer dollars. Foreigners who haven't been naturalized can still access them for set fees though there are charities and programs that help with costs. I don't know the particulars of them though."

"When you say medical specialists, does that include dentists, optometrists and optional things like that?"

"Wouldn't call those optional but most of them do. If they don't, they're within a block or two of the complex."

"Unfortunately, they are in Galbadia but that's another conversation for another day." she briefly lamented before switching gears. "Crummy politics aside, I would have never thought of that in a million years. I can definitely work with that so I owe you like a million donuts."

Squall's teeth rotted and insides twisted at the thought of that many doughy confections and sent sugar high shivers down his spine.

"Wouldn't go that far." he deflected. "I don't have any suggestions for the other thing you were looking for."

"Doesn't matter. It's a huge step in the right direction. The write direction, even." she light-heartedly thanked him. It took him a few seconds to realize why she'd repeated 'the right direction' twice then he rolled his eyes and presumed she was steadily gaining life force from his reaction.

"Think a bigger step would be to leave your laptop open to write." he pointed out afterwards.

"-Ugh. Don't know why I did that." she groaned with a facepalm. "But if it's alright with you, I'd rather just pick your brain now and jot it all down later whenever you have to leave so I maximize what little time I have. I'll order whatever you want before then, obviously. Just let me know when you're getting peckish and/or too decaffeinated."

"Sure."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Zell coming back with an armful of dishes successfully taken back from the seniors. As he got closer, he braced himself for the impact since there was no way he was going to pass by and not comment on him still being there with his plate empty and his cup drained.

As if on cue, Squall sensed a body loom right behind him a few seconds later to reach over for the dishes he'd left in between him and Rinoa.

"Surprised you're still here dude, you usually up and leave like a lightning bolt." the blond commented as he added their dishes to his already-skyscraper-tall stack.

As unnatural as it felt to do so, Squall discreetly looked beyond Zell's reach to search Rinoa's face for any reaction to the jab – not that discretion was necessarily needed since her gaze had shifted to the menu board well beyond and above the counter.

"It shouldn't be that surprising when I told you I had time to kill while running errands for a co-worker." he casually retorted as Zell flitted around Rinoa to some other dishes nearby. "Not that lightning quietly leaves the room and leaves money in its wake even if I were pressed for time like I usually am."

Sometime during his smart-aleck response, Rinoa had stopped staring at the menu in favour of opening the lid to her laptop despite what was said less than a minute ago. This attempt at excluding herself from this conversation backfired tremendously as it caught Zell's attention like a moth to the flame as he took a step back.

"Lured him into giving you more fashion tips?"

After the briefest of pauses, Rinoa looked back and nodded at him. "He told me I need to up my sombrero game if I want to fit in here so I'm going to buy a dozen. A few on my head, stomach, elbows, knees and wherever else they'll fit for coverage."

Zell blinked hard, looking over to Squall, presumably to get confirmation she was joking. Without missing a beat, Squall turned his upper body a little to give him a nod.

"It's true. I told her to forget everything we said about thermo-regulated clothes and replace her existing travel wardrobe with sombreros."

Had Zell not been holding ten million plates, Squall was pretty sure he would have folded his arms in addition to the incredulous look and wider stance he was adopting now.

"I'm pretty sure that out of the three of us, you're the only one who doesn't know what a sombrero is." he proclaimed with an ear-to-ear grin slowly overtaking his face. "I know this for a fact because I seriously doubt you of all people would be telling her to go commando and wear a bunch of wide-brim hats everywhere instead of clothes."

Instead of acknowledging that his bluff had been called out for a change, he shot Rinoa an incredulous look of his own. The dark-haired girl couldn't help but mirror Zell's grin.

"I just wanted to say something ridiculous with a straight face. I wasn't expecting you to play along – honest." She looked the other way towards the blond. "To set the record straight before any crazy rumours reach Raine's ears, I'm bribing him with food to help me spitball ideas for the problem areas of my novel."

"I figured something along those lines, I just wanted to bug him." Zell confessed, his formerly-wide grin now a light smirk. "Anyway, I gotta wash these up and clock out. You gonna be here late next week or are you shipping out by then? I'm starting my week-long vacation tomorrow so I won't see you for a while."

Rinoa shook her head. "I haven't bought my ticket yet. Fares to get back home are still insane and I have to figure a few other things out first anyway."

"Cool. Err- not cool. Eh, you knew what I meant."

"I did."

"Cool. Imma go do the thing. Later!"

Once Zell rounded the bend of the counter and disappeared into the back once more, Rinoa turned to face the other way again.

"I'm going to put this out here and you're free to say no but…"

She might have trailed off but his curiosity was piqued as she looked away for a moment and tucked an errant strand of hair between her ears before looking at him again.

"…did you really not know what a sombrero was?"

Squall nearly fell off his chair.

"...You're a piece of work, Rinoa."

She let out a peal of laughter, breaking the façade she'd put up.

"In all fairness, I was going to ask you something different." she admitted. "I just needed to gauge something first by seeing how this joke went over."

"…And?"

This time, he was certain the slight shifting she was doing wasn't a calculated act.

"…And I think I'll be brave enough to say what you probably thought I was gonna ask is what I meant to ask." she confessed. "Even if the thing I meant to ask about doesn't happen today."

"I would but I'm not sure it's possible." he answered. "I don't think there are any shops in Esthar that sell sombreros."

Rinoa let out a long-drawn groan. "…Ok, I walked right into that one."

"You did."

She shook her head again and slid her laptop over. Squall blinked in confusion.

"You want me to read something over?"

"No. I know there's no internet here but…if you want to, open a new doc and write the name of a place and time you wouldn't mind meeting me at or type in nonsense if you don't. Save it as whatever, close it and slide over the laptop when you're done. I promise not to look until after you leave today."

With a nod, Squall turned towards the laptop screen once she'd started a one-sided staring match with the coat rack. He opened up a new document and started a staring match of his own at the blank page. Two restaurants immediately came to mind – both not too dissimilar in offerings and price but the locations were on the opposite sides of the region. One was around here though on the border of the entertainment district but a hop-skip away from a subway. The other was on the opposite side of the region and a little further from the nearest public transportation line but convenient for other reasons.

Without the luxury of time to sort out this quandary, he put in both addresses with his work cell number, denoting either were fine and she could pick whichever location was more convenient and hit the keys necessary to bring up the Save As function. From there, he saved it on her desktop and christened the doc with the straightforward name of 'Answer' to ensure she'd see it. When he went to the Open option to see if it successfully saved before closing it, Squall flit through her documents folder briefly to see if there was any filename of note as he could not open them without arousing suspicion in the recent documents pane; she had nothing open aside from the document with the notes in bullet-point form and there was nothing above what she just wrote in it.

It didn't take long before he confirmed his document had saved correctly and raised a few questions he hadn't anticipated by browsing.

He closed the window and the document, carefully sliding back the laptop back to her and ending her staring contest in the process.

"What did you save it under?"

"The file's called 'Answer' and it's saved on the desktop. Hope that's alright."

"That's perfect." she said, her eyes thrumming with nervous energy as she closed the laptop lid yet again. "And regardless of what you wrote, thank you for indulging me – I appreciate that. Anyway…back to where we were, yet again?"

"Sure."