Chapter 3: In Which Martine is an Asshole (And Other Fine Leadership Skills)
Squall and Martine locked eyes almost instantly over the table. The International Council for Garden Institutions meeting hadn't even started, but Squall could already tell that things were going to be bad. Nasty, even. Silently, he thanked Hyne for Quistis' intuition: Seifer had been left behind - simultaneously threatened, ordered, and bribed to keep Balamb Garden under control in their absence. The look in Martine's eye spelled nothing good for BG today, and Seifer's solutions to such problems usually involved gunblades and a large amount of yelling.
In fact, only he, Quistis, and Xu were in the meeting. And Cid, of course, sitting at the head of the table and looking ridiculously calm. For a moment Squall pondered the similarities between his two father-figures: Cid, who was always cheerful, and Laguna, who was stupidly cheerful. Calling Laguna stupid in his head cheered him up; Squall almost smiled.
"Sir," Quistis hissed. "Is something funny?"
Squall shrugged, pausing to glare at Martine again on his way back to staring morosely at the table. Irvine would be here in a little bit; his friend had been called in on the Galbadian side of the table, probably so that Martine could make a show of power, but Irvine had refused to walk in the door with that "bloated bag of wind" and thus would be arriving late. Selphie and Rinoa were, supposedly, up to something which Squall only hoped did not involve either (a) Laguna or (b) Selphie's entire bank account, which had been thrown at him earlier this morning. Zell was, once again, trying to salvage anything worthwhile out of the guts of Garden. Squall's current plan was to sell the parts back to the Shumi for cash. It wasn't a very good plan, since it didn't involve a gunblade and Martine's smug face, but he was trying.
Right now, though, the occupants of the Garden Council were entering the room, solemn and serious as the occasion demanded. Irvine came up on their heels, and slid past the Balamb table to take a seat next to Martine. He made up for the location by scraping his chair to the left and sitting as near to Balamb's table as possible while still making it look like he was on Galbadia's side.
Squall nodded, nothing more than a slight tilt of the head that let Irvine know he'd noticed the gesture. Quistis flicked through her budget reports once more, and Xu poured a glass of water simply for something to do with her hands that didn't involve shooting everyone on the council and stealing their wallets. She'd decided on it as a backup plan earlier this morning.
The head councilman cleared his throat, the sound akin to that of a Chocobo dying. He surveyed the two tables of SeeDs in front of him.
"Order, please." He had the unpleasant expression of someone who must have had something that hadn't quite sat well for lunch, or irritable bowel syndrome; the councilman's scowl got deeper as he looked at Squall, as if Squall was somehow causing his pain. The commander stared back, unwavering, despite the itch at his neck from the uncomfortable uniform. "We are here today to review Balamb Garden's yearly financial budget, and make adjustments to said budget as necessary," the councilman continued. The way the word came out, it was clear that he didn't think Balamb Garden was entirely necessary, much less a budget review. "Commander Squall Leonhart, I assume you have prepared an outline pertaining to the needs of your Garden?"
Squall nodded.
"Bring it here."
Quistis's chair slid back and she walked the expanse of marble calmly and coolly, her boots clicking loudly against the floor (whose cost alone would probably be enough to replace the central air system). The councilman took the folder from her and opened it without bothering to hide his contempt.
Fair hearing, my ass, Squall thought darkly.
"Sir," Quistis began. "As you can see, we've submitted an emergency funds allocation form, which is what we're here to discuss. As I've-"
"Ma'am," the councilman interrupted. It was in that tone of voice that always infuriated Quistis; being called Ma'am tended to infuriate her too, and Squall sat up a little straighter in his seat to see whether Quistis was going to Laser Eye the smug bastard with their report, and maybe Martine besides. Luckily - or perhaps unluckily - Quistis held herself back.
"I don't believe you're authorized to speak for Balamb Garden," the councilman continued, looking extremely pleased with his declaration.
What? The incredulous look on Quistis' face echoed Squall's mental declaration. "Sir," she replied, hastily settling her composure back into place, "as this report and the research related to it is my work, I think-"
"Miss Trepe," Martine said smoothly, and now Squall knew Quistis was pissed: she hated being called Miss on principle. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "You are a highly ranked SeeD, yes. But to petition the council on behalf of funding, you need to be a titled employee of Garden's bureaucracy itself."
"I'm not aware of any such rule," Quistis said smoothly. Squall grinned internally. If Martine wanted to argue the SeeD handbook, he'd never find an opponent more formidable than Quistis Trepe.
"Based on the recommendations of the ICGI," the councilman said, "we require further petitions from Balamb Garden to be given by people of authority - either Commander Leonhart, or Headmaster Kramer himself. It was decided last week."
Martine settled back in his chair, looking smug. Irvine threw him a brief glance that could've lit the man on fire had Irvine been Junctioned.
"That's not fair--" Xu began, but Squall's glare silenced her, and she sat back in her seat. The commander stood, hands flat against the table so he didn't feel compelled to throw something.
"Instructor Trepe has prepared the emergency funds allocation in accordance with the ICGI's requirements." Squall took a very deep breath and hoped to hell Quistis had avoided doing footnotes again. Her footnotes always read like ancient Centran. "Balamb Garden states for the record..."
--
Rinoa stirred her tea, but she was simply going through the motions. Squall was going to be so angry when he found out about this; unfortunately, Rinoa had yet to figure out what other choice she might have had. She added more creamer to the cup in front of her.
The train pulled into the station, and she looked up from the cup as a flurry of passengers on the train from Esthar disembarked. A familiar figure stepped out of the elaborate presidential car at the end of the train, and Rinoa sighed - although if it was from relief or dismay at having to go behind her boyfriend's back, even she couldn't say.
"Hi, Laguna."
Laguna grinned at her. She and Laguna had become quick friends; sometimes Rinoa idly wondered at the ease with which she'd fallen in with Squall's father as compared to her own. Although comparing Laguna and Caraway was like...comparing herself with Squall, really. And Squall certainly wouldn't have been doing this - not with his dignity and pride, for one thing, and second because he hated tea with a passion.
"Thanks so much for coming," she said, standing up to give him a hug. She noticed the shadowy figures behind him; Kiros and Ward were hanging back, giving Laguna a bit of space.
"No problem," Laguna said cheerfully, sitting down at her table. Rinoa had ordered a large scone before he had arrived, and then proceeded to pick it apart in her nervousness; Laguna poked at the crumbs as if looking for item remnants.
"I'm so sorry to call you out here so suddenly," Rinoa burst out. "I just - I need to ask you something. It's about Squall- no," she amended hastily, "it's about Garden."
"I figured," Laguna said. He signaled to the waitress. "Um, can I get a double mocha cappucino with light whipped cream?"
The waitress glanced over at Rinoa; she stared at the mess of scone in front of her and ordered another tea. The one she had been drinking had begun to taste like paint thinner, she had let it sit so long.
"So, what's my son done this time?" Laguna asked comfortably, settling back in the chair. Rinoa smiled faintly as he absently began to tap a sugar packet against the smooth tabletop--at least it wasn't one of those awkward leg cramps. "Is this another case of the ol' marital problems?"
"He...Laguna, he needs money. Really badly." As soon as she said it, it sounded pathetic and Rinoa wished she could take both sentences back before they hit Laguna's ears.
The president of Esthar stopped tapping the sugar packet, and raised an eyebrow at her.
Rinoa swallowed. "Garden needs money, really - Squall's fine, he doesn't - it's not like we're poor - he's poor..." She paused to take a deliberate sip of the tea in front of her, stale or not. This was coming out all wrong.
Laguna dropped the sugar packet onto the table and leaned back slowly. "Why don't you tell me what happened?" he asked, his voice gentle and kind - which only made her feel worse.
"They screwed up," she said softly, her eyes on the table. "They thought that Balamb Garden could be fixed - that they could do it themselves. Martine and that new council were offering something, but Squall said that he didn't want to be enslaved to his contractors and that Balamb could fix itself." Even now, the words tasted bitter. "He was wrong."
"Ah," Laguna said simply. There was a long silence as the waitress presented them with warm drinks. Rinoa took a sip gratefully; Laguna added the sugar packet into his coffee.
"And Squall would never ask me for help," Laguna continued. It wasn't exactly a question; Rinoa looked up sharply, but Laguna's face was perfectly serene as he stirred another packet of sugar into his drink.
"...No, sir."
Laguna sipped his coffee as Rinoa shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Squall was going to be so mad at her, oh god...
"He doesn't know I'm here--I mean. I don't know. Laguna, he needs help. Selphie and Irvine and everyone came back to try to help, but it doesn't make gil appear out of thin air, which is what I think he wants to happen." She looked miserably at her tea. "He's mad at everyone, and he's going to hate me, but I don't know what else to do."
"He won't hate you. I'm sure he'll appreciate all the help you're trying to give him."
Rinoa gave a sheepish laugh. "Do you really think he'd appreciate me coming to you for help?" As soon as she said it, she winced. "Sorry, Laguna. I didn't really mean that, I just - you know how Squall is."
"He'll appreciate you helping," Laguna pointed out. "He'll be mad at me, not you, and you know it. So don't worry!"
Rinoa bit her lip and said nothing. She poked at the crumbled scone a little bit.
"So," Laguna continued breezily, leaning back in his chair. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
---
The door shut slowly behind Quistis. Her heeled shoes made staccato noises on the crisp hall floor as she stalked away from the disastrous meeting and towards the water fountain. Idly she pictured drowning Martine in it. Her hands clenched and unclenched slowly.
Xu, following behind her, was much more quiet. "Quistis, what in the world do you think you're doing?"
"Leaving," Quistis snapped. "You heard it, they ordered me out of the room."
"It's because you wouldn't stop interrupting Squall," Xu pointed out cautiously. It didn't help the situation; Quistis' eyes, which had been burning bright, narrowed into slits.
"Xu, this is ridiculous!" she spat. "Squall didn't even read that report, and I certainly didn't explain my reasoning to him, since I thought I would be talking." She paused, fisting her hands in an angry way that boded nothing good for the water fountain. "And that bastard councilman is grilling him on it, wondering why he's getting things wrong." Quistis sighed. "Of course he's getting it wrong. It's not his report! And Squall hates my footnotes," she added somewhat viciously.
Xu leaned against the wall and watched Quistis attempt to regain her composure. The silence in the hallway after her outburst was almost deafening--Xu wouldn't have been surprised if the entire council could hear every word Quistis had said through those thick doors. She glanced at them out of reflex, and they burst open; she almost (almost) jumped out of surprise.
Squall stormed out, Selphie on his heels. Martine and Irvine followed, the former with a smug grin on his face and the latter looking pissed.
"Sir?" Xu asked.
"Denied. Again," Squall said flatly, coming to a stop in front of them. Martine's grin grew wider. Xu decided that punching him, while therapeutic, would probably not do good things for Balamb's image.
"Good luck next time, boy," the Galbadian headmaster said, his tone maliciously gleeful. "You're going to need it."
Irvine hung back as the headmaster strode off. "Asshole," he muttered. "Shit, Squall, I didn't think it would go quite like that."
Squall glared at him.
"So wait, sir," Xu said, taking a step towards Squall as if looking for something. "That's just - that's it?"
Squall nodded. He looked strangely calm, almost catatonical, as if none of this were really going on around him. "Yes," he repeated patiently, "that's it."
"They can't do that," Quistis said, recovering from her funk almost instantly at the sight of this new dilemma. "They have to let an appeals process through with -"
"Quistis," Squall said, his voice infinitely patient. "You don't get it yet, do you?"
Quistis turned her glare onto Squall. "Don't get what, sir?"
Squall shook his head, implicating the other people in the hall. "It can wait until we're back at Balamb." He turned on his heel and stalked from the building, the anger which hadn't been evident in his face clearly visible in his walk.
Quistis blinked.
"C'mon, Quisty," Selphie said, taking her friend by the arm and pulling her down the hall. "At least the Ragnarok has air conditioning."
--
Rinoa stood outside the door to Squall's office, drumming her fingers anxiously on the wall as she waited for his return. His secretary had offered her admittance into the chamber going on six times now, but Rinoa had denied it. She wasn't even sure if Squall would want to talk to her, much less have her be the first thing he saw when he came back from the Garden Council meeting.
Laguna had left her a blank, signed check--"Whatever you need, just fill it out, and we'll take care of it," he had promised her before hopping on the next train back to Esthar. The check was folded in her pocket, feeling for all the world like an anvil had taken up residence there instead.
"Messages, Commander," the secretary said dully, holding out a sheaf of paper as Squall stepped out of the elevator. "And Rinoa's here to see you."
"Not right now," Squall said, his tone clipped as he leafed through the messages. "I've got things to do."
"Squall..."
His head jerked up at Rinoa's tentative voice. "What?" he asked irritably. Rinoa winced. This wasn't going to go well at all, not if he was angry already, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to know that the meeting had decidedly not gone according to plan. Instinctively, she made sure Lionheart was not attached to her boyfriend's waist.
"Can we talk in your office?" she asked quietly. "Please?"
Squall stared at her hard for a long moment, and it felt like he was trying to root around in her brain and get the information himself, rather than deal with Rinoa's unease. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and waited. Finally, something in his face gave, and he nodded, a brief bob of his head.
"Should I hold your calls, sir?" the secretary asked--Garden's telephone system was a jury-rigged mess of cables, headaches, and circuits that worked exactly some of the time, but it was the only real system of communication that was reliable at Balamb. The commander shrugged.
"This shouldn't take long." He pushed open the door to his office, and let Rinoa enter the room before him.
"I know you're going to be mad," Rinoa said softly as the door closed behind them.
"I-" Squall shrugged, his eyes still on the desk. "Yes, the meeting was a disaster, Rinoa. Yes, I'll tell you all about it." He finally turned his gaze onto her. "But can't we do this lat- wait," he said, his eyes narrowing. "What's wrong?"
"I know you won't like this," Rinoa ventured, taking a step closer to his desk. "But I-" Her voice faltered a little and she tried to square her shoulders, telling herself she was simply trying to do right by her friends. "I have something that might help you out."
Squall looked away. "All this time in the hotel room and now you've come up with something." His voice was surprisingly flat, and Rinoa started.
"I didn't know it bothered you that much," she retorted, surprised at the emotional admission.
"Of course it - never mind," Squall said, sitting down on the edge of the desk and rubbing at his eyes with the base of his palm. "Rin, does this have to happen right now?"
"I have money."
The office filled with an uncomfortable silence. Squall seemed to be frozen in thought, his hand still awkwardly pressed to one temple. Slowly, he lowered the offending appendage and looked at her. "Rinoa."
"It's good money," she said hurriedly, trying to fill the gap. "It doesn't mean you're beholden to anyone, and you don't have to sign any contracts, and you can take as much or as little as you want at first, so you could start with something basic, and -" Her hand absently brushed against the pocket holding the check. "No strings attached," she said softly.
"I can't take money from your father." Squall shook his head in one crisp and decisive movement. "I - we - appreciate it, but - Rinoa," he finished, the admonishment plain in his voice.
She bit her lip and looked away as she fished the check out of her pocket. "It's not my father," Rinoa said quickly, who wouldn't take money from Caraway, either, and she was related to him. She held out the still-folded paper to him. Squall stared at her long and hard, and then reached out and snatched it from her fingers. There was a rustle as he unfolded it and glanced at the name on the check.
"No," he said flatly, and handed it back to her.
"Squall--"
"No."
Rinoa stared at Laguna's signature across the bottom of the check and then back at her boyfriend, whose face was unreadable. "Why not? He's your father! He's here to help you!"
"I don't want, or need, his charity." Squall sat abruptly in his desk chair and began to fill out the first piece of paperwork at hand. The actions were intended to effectively dismiss Rinoa, she knew, but she pressed on.
"He loves you, and he wants to help you..."
"He can help me by staying out of this. Rinoa, I have work to do."
Rinoa's face contorted for a moment, as if she were going to scream at him, and then it settled into something akin to disappointment. "You're making a mistake," she said. "It's not just about you anymore."
He glared at her, and Rinoa snapped on the heel of her sandal as sharply as she could, which wasn't very sharp--she almost fell over--and marched out of Squall's office. The door shut behind her very quietly.
Squall placed his forehead in his hands with a labored sigh, and stared at the form in front of him until the words stopped making sense. It took a long time.