Author's note and WARNING: All right, first let me confess that after writing each of the first two chapters I was strangely very pleased, but I hadn't finished what I had set out to do originally. I had intended to write a humorous two-shot with a twist, but I'll be damned if the story just wasn't comedic at heart (though I'm slightly ashamed to admit that I do laugh when I think of Seifer's allusions to Goldilocks and the Three Bears). Other aspects started to pop in that seemed appropriate and I liked them, I really did. If you liked where the second chapter ended, I urge you to go no further. It didn't go the direction I thought it would. This chapter also deals with adult situations, innuendo, and topics of sexual nature. I still believe the teen rating is appropriate, but you've been warned.

It may go without saying, that I'm a sucker for the "Villain who isn't as villainous as he might first seem and redeems himself" kind of story, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who is.

MithrandirMoon – In my experience you should never discount the advice of someone who doesn't do what you do. They always have an unbiased perspective that helps put yours in the right place – farther away and more objective. Thank you.

Nikpt-o – I'm glad you still enjoy them and that the "easier done than said" was real for you. Thanks.

Whew… Done now. Hope you enjoy the rest.

I awoke in the very uncommon position of having my legs tangled with someone else's. There was an arm underneath me that wasn't my own and a warm hand covered the small of my back, fingers following the curve to my waistband. Trying to remember last night, I completed a mental checklist before opening my eyes.

Two arms... Check.

Two legs... Already established, tangled with two others a lot longer than my own. Check.

Clothing... Check.

Dignity… Well, since I checked off on clothing it must be at least mostly intact .I was only aching in mentionable areas. Check.

Hangover… Hmm…

I could feel the telltale dryness and sour morning-aftertaste of whiskey. A lot of whiskey. But no hangover. I puzzled over this as my head slowly rose and fell from the perch of the chest I lay on. Slowly, it came back to me. The sign on the door, looking through Seifer's things, drinking his alcohol, wearing his coat, falling asleep in his bed, waking and hiding, seeing him seemingly back from the dead, confiding, crying, and finally crawling into bed with him.

He would be going soon.

Without trying to wake him, I pushed myself up the bed, resting my head in the mellifluous crook of his neck and kissed it lightly. I should have known better though, than to think he wouldn't be a light sleeper.

"Mmm…"The sound moved through me from his throat and I smiled. His arm tightened around my waist, gentle steel bands from which I couldn't escape if I wanted. I definitely hadn't wanted. His bottle green eyes focused on me, without the red or bags from the night before, dilated in the foggy morning light. He moved slightly away, expression carefully, and completely alien on him, neutral, wary. I frowned when he caught my hand I moved to trace his cheek. He held it for some time, remaining silent. He must have caught my bemused expression, because he smirked and said. "Esuna. Works wonders on hangovers. I cast it on you when you fell asleep."

That explained why I didn't have a headache or feel like I needed to dry-heave, but I still felt like I was missing something. "Do you remember last night?"

"Yes. You?"

I nodded.

"We didn't do anything. So don't feel obligated…"

"Are you trying to kick me out?" I asked, half amused and half upset.

"No! I just thought that… Maybe you'd have regrets now that you're sober, feel embarrassed, want to flee. Never mind." He sighed heavily and turned and my view became the wall of his back, all brick, rebar, and mortar. It would take more effort than unspoken inebriated apologies and one night spent in his company to repair years of neglecting him and I had little time. Absently, I traced my nails along the numerous cuts and scars on his back, making him shiver, but he didn't back away any further.

I crowded against him, running my hand along his exposed arm. "I only regret not trying sooner." His breath shuddered a little. Lifting my head, I could see his eyes were closed, long sandy lashes and a lock of lighter hair falling over them. I brushed his hair back and sighed. He looked tense, but angelic. "Seifer…" My hand clutched at his chest, eliciting no response.

It trailed down, feeling the contraction of the rectus abdominals, and lining along the definition of the external obliques. I kissed the side of his face. Emboldened by nothing more than not being stopped, and by my own desires, fueled by draining emotions and honeyed scents and by a body that shamed any classical figure given apotheosis by sculpture or painting, I traveled to the inguinal canal. There was a bulge. My limited medical knowledge, the sharp intake of breath beside me, and the fact that Seifer nearly jumped out of bed told me it wasn't a hernia. It definitely wasn't a hernia.

He growled. It took me a moment to realize it wasn't a pleasurable one. Sitting up, he said "Back off, Trepe."

I turned away. Felt the pressing of more failure, shame, and a coming absence that I couldn't brace for as much as I wanted.

Seifer saw the hurt, and he sighed. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm… Just not used to intimacy without violence." I nodded, but didn't turn to him. I could hear the smile in his next words. "Given your forwardness I'd have to guess there wouldn't be any blood."

"You wouldn't have been my first, no."

"I guess your reputation as an untouchable Ice Queen is a little off then." I finally turned around.

"Not so far off. Cold comfort." He gave a sage nod and an even more sage silence. I pressed on, "So you only go for virgins then?"

His eyes widened at my brusqueness. "No."

This surprised me, almost as much as him turning away with a blush. I had to cover my mouth with my hand, hoping he wouldn't notice, to stifle a giggle. "You mean…"

"That's right. Go ahead. Laugh."

"I'm not laughing, Seifer." The hitch in my voice belied my statement. "I guess your reputation as a ladies' man is a little off too. Everyone used to say that you had every girl in Garden around your finger and in your bed." Surprised as I was at the idea of Seifer the Virgin, Seifer the Embarrassed was far too fun to let go.

He shrugged. "Almost every girl." I couldn't tell if that was a pointed remark or not. "Never had much time for them."

"What about Rinoa?"

He shrugged again.

I scooted over to him and held his hand in a way that I hoped was apologetic. "You aren't attracted to me?"

"What? Of course I am. I thought that much was obvious…" I smiled. "Hyne… The way you smell, the way you fit against me, the way your lip pouts just the slightest bit, those eyes. What man wouldn't be?" Even when uncomfortable and tense, Seifer didn't back away, always honest and forthright. "You're everything a man could want. Wit, brains, beauty, and brawn. You shouldn't just give yourself away to some undeserving fool on some stupid whim that he's a fallen angel, bound to disappear any moment."

"I'm not." I said, affronted. "I want to know a man who always deserved me before he's gone."

"I won't take advantage of you Quistis!" He was livid. I maintained my composure, cracking though it was.

"I've been taking advantage of you for years, Seifer. This is something I want. I'm not drunk or drugged. You're not forcing me. I just want you." I don't think I succeeded in keeping the desperation out of my voice.

He sneered. "Just because you're not drunk doesn't mean you're sober. You're not in your right mind Quistis." He looked at the clock. "I have to go."

I realized that he probably thought I pitied him as he climbed over me and went into the bathroom to change. The door slammed before I could say anything. I sat at the edge of the bed until he came back out, looking more harried than I'd ever seen him. It was 7:13. He probably wanted to get out before most of Garden woke up. He shouldered his bag and grabbed mine from his desk.

In two strides he was in front of me. He set the bag down beside me. I heard one of his knees crack as he squatted.

With a hand that was pale and soft from years of wearing gloves for training, he lifted my chin so that I was facing those poisonous, infectious eyes. They were searching, hard, and eloquent. They told me what he'd tried to say earlier, that they would look on, and provide the memories that things could not. They said, "don't miss me, because then I would be truly gone." They said, "find a good man and make sure he deserves you or I'll haunt you both." They said, "don't worry." They said, "it wouldn't have meant what you wanted it to, and it wouldn't have made anything easier or better."

And they said, "everything will have been worth it."

"Quistis." This time it was his mouth talking. "I couldn't say it to you, but I think you'll understand." Then he stretched up, cupped my face in his hands, and kissed me, exactly once, reassuring me that I shouldn't be offended at being turned down, but making me lament it all the more. I tried to continue, grasped at him desperately, but he gently, though inexorably, pushed me away. "Quit brooding about what might have been and pay attention to what is and will be. I'll see you around."

Bastard.

I couldn't think up any words more painful to hear as he stepped out of the room, box in hand. Tears didn't bother to well up; they just fell. Changing an ocean into a cataract in a moment. That was the power of Seifer Almasy.

It took a while to collect myself. I dried my eyes, got up, and grabbed my bag, taking one last look around. There wasn't anything left to make it his anymore. I breathed heavy, slow breaths and put on my shoes. I walked out the door and nearly ran into someone just a few steps outside, coming toward the room.

"Oh, excuse me" He said, not seeming to notice my still blotchy face. "Say… Aren't you Instructor Trepe? I recognize you from the papers. It's a pleasure to meet you."

I put up a small smile and shook his hand, not saying anything or looking him in the eye.

"I'm Charles. I just transferred from Galbadia." He looked around and walked in front of Seifer's old room. "Looks like this is my new place. Nice to meet you Instructor."

I didn't have the heart to tell him I wasn't an instructor. I didn't have the heart to do much of anything.

Setting down the hall again at a plodding pace, I wondered at the fast turnover, and decided it wasn't worth the effort. Despite my downturned gaze I soon tripped on a box in the middle of the hall. I was stepping around it, when Squall came up to me, looking strangely concerned.

"Hey. I've been looking for you." I stopped. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Had a long night."

He nodded, looking, as he shifted his weight to one leg, like he didn't believe me for a moment. Neither did I. "Did you come down here to meet our new Galbadian transfer students?"

"I saw one of them down the hall." Going to Seifer's old room.

"The other one's right here. You should get to know him." He put his hands up as I narrowed my eyes at him. It did not make me happy to have my friends try to set me up, especially Squall. Especially now. The door opened beside me and Squall smirked. "See you later, Quistis." He started to walk past me, but stopped and put a hand on my shoulder, whispering "Don't let the assumption ruin the epiphany."

I stared at him, confused, wondering when he became so cryptic. Vocally cryptic. I turned from one scar interrupted gaze to another as Squall walked away.

"Hey. Aren't you that Instructor Trepe everyone's talking about? Just came from Galbadia. Got tired of the shithead who was running things there for a while after Martine left." I gaped. "The pictures in the paper don't do you justice. I'll see you around." He grabbed the box and walked inside. After a few minutes of mute unpacking, he came back out to see me in the same position, and he nearly ran into me.

He was carrying a pad of paper and a pen, crossing things off the paper.

Irvine chose that moment to come by and politely but firmly lift my lower jaw back into place. "Hey, darlin'. I see you met our new transfer. Great guy.

"So, I'm walking around in Time Compression, minding my own business, when I fall into a time warp. Now don't give me that "I told you to watch out for time warps look," darlin', they were black on black. Anyway, I'm there slipping away, when this, like, total stranger comes along and pulls me out. Somehow got me to the orphanage. Great guy." Irvine shook his hand. "You should get to know each other."

I was already sick of hearing that line. Did everyone know but me? I looked at Seifer's smirk.

He shrugged. "I tried to tell you."

I thought back.

The voices outside the door. Someone brought him into Garden, back to his room.

The box. Why had he brought it in and not the movers?

"I walked."

"There's nowhere for me to go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll see you around."

The notice. I hadn't read the whole thing. Seifer handed it to me. The rest read that all items were to be moved four doors away, to a SeeD dorm, making room for a transfer cadet. I slapped my hand to my forehead. Turning to Irvine, I sputtered, "Did you know? No one told me Seifer was coming back."

Irvine frowned and rubbed my hair affectionately. "Seifer? Nah. You're mistaken." He winked. "He's dead. This is a new guy." I stood there confused and he bent down to my ear. "People will see what they want to see and believe what they want to believe. Nobody wants to believe he's back. With a new look." He nudged me. "And a new girl, no one will suspect a thing."

He took a step back, winked again and tipped his hat, before walking off into the sunrise. I turned around. Seifer was still striking things off The List.

I was angry, but only at myself. Seifer stared at me, gaze level, with an unsure smile, telling me he didn't know if this change in circumstance, as far as I was concerned, had changed the way I felt. Or invalidated earlier words and actions.

Don't let the assumption ruin the epiphany.

I decided it hadn't.

"Did you mean what you said?" I asked.

"Always. Did you mean what you didn't?"

I nodded. "Yes."

His smile wasn't unsure anymore. One more thing came off The List. I grinned.

"Just what is that for anyway?"

"It's for sentencing."

"Sentencing?"

"Yes." He picked me up, still in shock. "To be 'taken from their place and brought 'round to my place.'" I laughed when he took me in his new room, stuffing a Balamb Bakery doughnut into his mouth.

I showed Seifer how I felt. It was easier done than said. I couldn't say it to him, but I think he understood.

Seifer Almasy is an exceptional man. And unlike what they say so often about exceptional people to make you feel as though they aren't so different, that with some small amount of effort you could be like them, he did not put his pants on one leg at a time. I watched.

Author's Note: I enjoyed reversing the common "histories" of the two characters. That's the end. I hope you enjoyed as much as I did.