Early Graves Chapter 3: The Field Exam, a final fantasy viii fanfic

Disclaimer and A/N: Do I own it? Sure I do! I keep it on the shelf in between some nose cartilage Sylvester Stallone lost making the third Rocky film, and my genuine replica fake of the second pope's ceremonial hat. Bullshit, I don't even own a car, gimme a break. I also don't own any of the Espers from FF6 or the summons from other Final Fantasy games. Ardwynna Morrigu called attention to the way I wrote Joselyn and Grave in the last two chapters and I will say now that this story is in no way a Mary Sue or Gary Stu, I admit some of me goes into my characters but by no means is this self-insertion. Please excuse any hostility you may detect here.

Steve: Thank you, I plan to continue updating every 25th but we'll have to see how that plays out. Yeah, if all goes well each chapter will be about 40 pages long, that's the plan anyway.

Steve: The identity of Savior will most likely remain a secret forever.

Angel of Apocolypse: Like I said to Steve about all of my chapters will be 40 some odd pages long. How do I concentrate? Well once I get started I just keep going until I'm interrupted by something like sleep or one of my cats, then I edit what I'm unsatisfied with later. And yes putting real things in Fan fiction is fun.

Noacat: It means a lot to know that you appreciate my vocabulary. I know what you mean about some authors that just don't seem to care, I've read 'seen' where saw belongs and death where dead belongs and that's just cheating at scrabble god damn it. Now concerning your nitpicks; I will take into account the thing about the numbers, but the name's before speech thing will stay, sorry. IF I could get quickedit to operate then I would take your other suggestion into strong consideration, I hope that doesn't bother you too much. Your soup comment was funny, I think we need to come up with an acronym for S.O.U.P. that could mean bad grammar or something, tell me if you come up with anything. Incidentally, thank you so much for saying that this could be changed into original fiction -I can say the same thing about Purgatory- 'cause in my opinion that's the greatest compliment a fan fiction can receive, thank you.

Ardwynna Morrigu: Thank you, thank you, for an answer to your nitpicks refer to Noa's reply. Your game manual comment was interesting, I had honestly not thought of that before. Again if I do a revised edition of this someday then I'll do something about that. Don't worry about feedback for regular characters; I've received good reviews about that from other people. And the reason for the capital E's in PesticidE's is mockery. Since SeeD is spelled with a capital D, and since it is never explained why their headquarters is called a Garden, I thought some mockery was in order.

Juusan Ikiuchi: Thank you, thank you, thank you, I'm glad you don't mind the scriptish thing, thank you and peace out to you to.

Scary's on the wall, scary's on his way

Watch where you spit, I'd advise you wait until it's over

And then you got hit, and you should've known better

And we die young

Faster we run

Down, down, down you're rollin' watch the blood flow in the muddy sewer

And take another hit, and bury your brother

And we die young

Faster we run

Scary's on the wall, scary's on his way

Another alley trip, bullets seek the place to bend you over

And then you got hit, and you should've known better

Faster we run

And we die young

We Die Young by Alice in Chains, don't own this song either.

Part Three: The Field Exam

Last Minute Preparations

Joselyn was pleased. Grave and Cody had gone through the trouble of bringing her to the bowels of B-Garden and it was decidedly her new favorite area. They had waited in the main area for nearly a half hour before Grave decided that the coast was clear. They used one of Graves cards in the elevator, it was a card that had more than one use but he had no idea what all of its functions were. Luckily it allowed them access to the bottom floor designated for the PesticidE's but that was not their interest, they discovered the floor board just in time and escaped the grasp of that high ranking SeeD who ran the PesticidE's… Zoo was it? Joselyn couldn't remember. But now they were in the bowels of the ship and Joselyn was enjoying the openness of the area.

Joselyn had seen the so called secret area but it was not so secret. And it was small, just a tiny balcony with a view that could only redeem itself at night, sunlight on the water had always bored Joselyn for some reason. But this place, this place was a real secret.

They weren't there just for the thrill of finding a new place. There was a written test that cadets were supposed to take before they left for their field exam. It had no purpose that the three of them could think of since most of the questions had been on previous tests. But if you did poorly on them it affected the score of your field exam, and if you failed them you couldn't go at all. Perhaps it was to narrow down the amount of candidates so they could harvest the cream of the crop. But they had given up on their theories, now they were just helping each other finish their papers; they were in a hurry after all.

Joselyn was sitting on what they might have called the floor since it was the largest and most stable section of the area. In the center of it was a pillar that rotated constantly and due to what must have been gallons of oil made no sound. Cody was on another section of the same island and Grave… Grave was sitting on a very unstable rail on the stairway leading to the platform his friends were sitting on. Joselyn had earlier shown concern but he waved her concern away and she had not said a word to him since, he didn't notice. But Cody did and he was doing his best to hint to Grave to say something nice to break the dark spell, but he remained oblivious and eventually Cody gave up.

Joselyn wanted to sit upside down in one of the chairs but her cadet uniform included a skirt, and she didn't want Grave looking down her skirt, even if he had seen her in her underwear once. Joselyn wouldn't stop complaining about having to wear the skirt and Cody let her know about it, but she kept complaining how Grave got what he wanted. He had actually gone through the trouble of asking for a jacket from a larger uniform and he received it –needless to say Joselyn had made quite the face when he received it with no trouble. When Joselyn asked for a pair of pants to wear all she received was a funny look and a criminally short skirt –although to Joselyn, any skirt that can't cover your ankles is criminal.

"What's an X-ATM092?" she asked rather loudly, she thought she'd have too since her friends were far away but sound reverberated a lot in that area, if a pair of flies started talking dirty they would hear every word.

"It's either an AI operated crab-like war machine dubbed with the nickname of a spider that is best known for it's destructive efficiency and ability to distinguish it's targets from its operator, or," Grave paused, raised one finger for emphasis, "it's a brand of sex jelly."

Joselyn laughed with Cody and put down her pencil for a moment, for she knew if she kept it in her hand before she stopped laughing she would probably write down the false answer.

After a moment she picked her pencil back up and wrote down Graves first answer. But not word for word since answers that were so obviously copied would be discredited. Joselyn adjusted her skirt for the sixty-seventh time that morning and pulled one of her cigarette rations out of her jacket. She needed to smoke all of them before the battle they were destined for that afternoon, since she had an irrational fear –or that's what Grave called it—that someone with a sixth sense would locate her cigarettes with their mind and throw her out of B-Garden like the prisoner of pirates, straight into the water with the aquatic carnivores.

"Do you really need to smoke those things? 'Cause they'll ruin that pretty voice of yours," Grave said sounding more sarcastic than he felt.

Joselyn turned in his direction to scold him but was put off for a moment. He was sitting approximately twenty feet away, with his back turned. How exactly did he notice she was about to light one up? She hadn't even lit it yet; maybe if the scratch of the lighter had resonated she'd understand how he'd know…

"How exactly did you know that I was about to smoke?" Joselyn asked putting aside her scolding for later.

"It's been ten minutes, and when you have cigarettes, you light one up every ten minutes," he said simply, like the fact it was. Joselyn was alarmed; even she didn't know that about herself.

"You've been timing me?" she asked sounding as surprised as she was.

"From the first night you moved in," he scribbled something down and poked the bottom right corner of his paper with dramatic finality. "Finished," he set his paper on a small pillar by the exit and joined his friends on the larger platform.

"You're done already?" Cody asked skeptically.

"Yup, I even put down a wrong answer just for sport," he said arrogantly, and arrogant he was at that moment.

"You shouldn't do that," said Joselyn, "you can't expect Instructor Trepe to bail you out whenever you fuck around," she was being rude and she knew it, but Grave was too reckless sometimes and he needed to know that.

"Our performance today will overshadow our written scores, and besides I did the rest of the answers right. I'll be fine," he said confidently and sat down next to Joselyn to monitor her answers.

And to bug her since she didn't like it when someone read over her shoulder, and Grave did like to bug her.

"For the last time don't read over my shoulder," she demanded while writing down half of one answer then stopping.

"Why not? I let you read over my shoulder, can't you grant me the same courtesy?" he asked knowing the answer, but it was an unsatisfactory one so disobeying it was too easy.

"Just, because, okay? I like to read over people's shoulders but I don't like it when they read over mine. Got it?" she said and looked at Grave and he recoiled noticeably. Not because he was alarmed by Joselyn but because he knew of her desire to see his pupils, and examining those was a liberty he would not grant her.

Maybe that was why, if so then he understood.

"Alright, I'll leave you alone," he sounded defeated, and to Joselyns ears a little hurt. But he bounced up and started pacing before she could say anything reassuring.

Joselyn kept her eyes on Grave until Cody noticed her, and then she looked back to her paper and finished answering the problem she had only half finished. Grave busied himself by walking around the rotating pillar, walking against its rotation only for the sake of minor rebellion. Joselyn thought this was a habit of his. Although Grave did get in trouble sometimes he was mostly a follower of the rules and when he got away with it then it was usually a dumb rule he was breaking. Or he was breaking it with good reason. But he would sometimes apply his eagerness to rebel to his fidgeting. It was strange, amusing.

Joselyn had been keeping track of his habits too and he would usually do this sort of thing when he hadn't broken a rule in a while. In fact the last time he had was two weeks ago, when he taught her the trick to float to class after sleeping in too long. Cody didn't seem to notice anything but to Joselyn it was a bad omen, today was their field exam and irresponsible behavior during a mission cut your points like a hot chainsaw through living skin. And when you were a SeeD it would cut your pay, assuming the Garden had a way of finding out. Joselyn guessed that was another purpose of the PesticidE's now that she was thinking of it.

Cody put away his pencil and folded his paper in the appropriate fashion. Apparently he was done too now, the feminist in Joselyn felt bothered that the two men she was studying with finished before her but she quickly forgot about that, she could get back at them by complaining about her skirt for the rest of the day, which was her plan from the beginning come to think of it.

Too much thinking, not enough working.

Joselyn stood up and adjusted her skirt once more, trying to maintain her five minute per adjustment quota, she shook her arms, didn't like long sleeves either. She was about to answer the last question when she looked up to her friends and saw they were looking at her, with the same, 'what's keeping you?' look in their eyes, although Grave was giving her his unpleasant smile as well. Joselyn sneered at them both to convey her message 'shut up I'll be done in a minute.' She rushed herself and scribbled the last answer as legibly as she could manage under the wordless pressure her male counterparts were putting on her.

Joselyn was sure it was mostly correct, like Graves paper she was probably missing one answer, namely the last one, but she wasn't going to admit it to him. She folded the paper and wordlessly started to the exit without them. Grave and Cody caught up and Grave picked up his paper from the catwalk before they stopped at the ladder. Joselyn was partially relieved to be leaving, not just because of the mocking aura surrounding her friends but the smell of the place was akin to dishwater and a few dead things that they didn't locate and that Joselyn refused to look for in the first place.

Grave with his infinite knowledge of monster anatomy claimed the smell was long dead Tri-Faces. He sounded very intrigued by his own knowledge and Joselyn just nodded and muttered in agreement, for if she admitted to him that she didn't know what a Tri-Face was he would launch into a damn thesis on the creature. One of the things Joselyn had known about Grave from the first day she met him was that provoking him in any way was foolish.

Upon absent inspection Joselyn discovered her judgment of Graves height was wrong. The night he apologized she'd been slouching, and he'd been wearing his boots while she hadn't, really she was a good had taller than he was. She also noted absently how interesting it was that he wasn't insecure about that.

They were at the ladder and Cody volunteered to climb first but Grave stayed and tried not to grin. Joselyn glared at him and assuming he didn't understand why she wouldn't climb first –which was impossible—she adjusted skirt again, his expression didn't change. She adjusted it again, patiently. After that she grabbed the skirt and started jerking it violently, almost hard enough to remove it and all Grave did was start laughing. Joselyn chose this moment to speak up.

"You're not going to look up my skirt, CLIMB" she pointed upwards and widened her eyes involuntarily. Grave was unshaken but Joselyn herself was a little shocked at herself. She didn't mean to exclaim that last word but her thoughts were disturbed by Grave.

"Oh, come on," he said knowing she wouldn't agree. He just liked fucking with her. He enjoyed hearing her exasperated and watching her gesture wildly.

Or maybe you just like hearing her voice and watching her move…

Grave shook his head forgot about it, he climbed up the ladder before Joselyn like he inevitably would and left her relieved, and ignorant for once of his expression.

She really hated wearing skirts.

They exited the elevator to the first floor and saw everyone had gathered already at the base of the stairs. Everyone cast them a quick glance but Quistis kept her eyes on them until they made their embarrassing descent down the stairs.

They weren't actually late; they wouldn't set off until the Headmaster came down to instruct them on their mission, the details and primary strategies and such. For now the cadets spoke amongst themselves while the designated Instructors and PesticidE's for each team stood by speaking with each other. However most of the PesticidE's stood by silent.

Joselyn assumed the one speaking with Instructor Trepe was their bodyguard. She was about as short as Grave and wore a short broad saber similar to the ones Galbadian soldiers wore on her belt. Quistis caught the attention Joselyn was giving her bodyguard and waved her hand in her direction. They turned away from each other and the PesticidE approached the team.

"Greetings my name is Carbuncle, I will be your bodyguard for this mission," she stood straighter than an arrow and held her hand out to Joselyn.

For a moment Joselyn thought her bodyguard was posed much like a nutcracker and had to suppress a chuckle, but she took her hand and played polite much like she usually did with the adults in her academy.

"My name is Joselyn, and this is Cody and Grave," she gestured to each teammate respectively.

Hands were shaken and the whole time Joselyn couldn't help but wonder how that woman was looking at them. Why did they need to wear masks and voice altering devices anyway?

"You're Carbuncle, I've heard good things about you," Grave said politely while still shaking her hand.

"You must be Grave…" Grave cut her off.

"You've heard bad things right?" he said smiling a bit, and wondered if she was smirking too.

"Yes well, it must all be rather trivial if you're here now right?" she said still looking much like a SeeD nutcracker. Joselyn had to try harder not to laugh.

"Most of it," he said effectively ending the conversation. Cody reached out a long arm and shook his share of shaking.

"Cody, I already know who you are," he said with finality.

With all of the formalities out of the way in their group and others Headmaster Leonhart exited the elevator with perfect timing to address the cadets, Instructors and bodyguards alike, though mostly he addressed the cadets. Before he spoke he cleared his throat for the attention of all cadets, mostly though he had their attention because he was wearing a strange leather jacket that none of the students had ever seen before.

"Greetings future SeeDs," to Quistis and a few select members of the crowd Squalls tone sounded very uncharacteristic, but to the cadets he was a young principal with a certain lameness about him that those with political authority always had. Although many of the female cadets were restraining hoots and hollers and certainly saw nothing lame about him with their normally secret libidos.

"SeeD is an organization for those who need military assistance, though we have been known to work independently from time to time, which is what we are doing this day. Today we will ambush The Dollet Ruins, which has recently become Galbadia's latest military location. Based on the way their units have been moving we expect them to attack FH next. But today we will hinder their attack. You are instructed to make your last minute preparations in the next fifteen minutes then report to the hangar for departure, if you don't need to make any more preparations then report to the hangar immediately." Squall saluted everyone and once he received his he turned back to the elevator and was soon out of sight.

The crowd dispersed and before Joselyn stepped away she caught sight of Tucker watching her. He looked as awkward as ever in his cadet uniform. His stance was limp and his hair looked dirty, and the stitches around his lip were still there looking like the grin he couldn't muster on his real lips. He resembled a skeletal character from a Claymation movie she had seen once, it was about Halloween… that was all she could remember, and the title of the movie escaped her.

He also resembled Grave in his frenzy in a twisted embarrassing way. But she certainly wouldn't tell Grave she had compared him to Tucker even for a second.

Joselyn followed Grave and Cody, pretending she hadn't looked at Tucker at all, missing the look on his face behind the stitches.

Quistis couldn't help but look on the students with pride. She couldn't yet know how many would die, or how many would fail –themselves or their comrades—but every time she saw cadets filing to their transports something in her always clicked. She knew perfectly well they were just going off to kill, but it was for a good cause, and in warlike times it was the causes that drove you.

Quistis was not overlooking the group that Savior was guarding but that didn't stop her from ignoring her students to talk to him. Technically she wasn't responsible for them until they boarded the aircrafts. Judging by the amount of time Squall gave them for last minute preparations, and the amount of time Grave was likely to spend putting of his work she decidedly had about fifteen minutes to kill.

It was always Quistis who initiated their conversations. Not because Savior was rude, because he didn't want to lead himself into a trap. Quistis was skilled at interrogations and if he let anymore details about identity slip Quistis would have his helmet cracked open like a brittle nutshell. But this was Saviors conviction; Quistis had not nearly the arrogance to think she could uncover one of B-Gardens best kept secrets easily.

She was behind him now; she decided not to tap his shoulder for the sake of surprise.

"So… I noticed that you, Grave and Joselyn arrived at precisely the same time two weeks ago, can you explain that?" Savior turned around quickly and almost said something, but just in time he stopped himself.

They both knew that Quistis didn't care about this since the question was somewhat absurd, but she was hard pressed for something to say. They both also knew he would answer her anyway, which was why she was smirking so arrogantly.

"Well, we were all late…" he said simply and pretended to not know where she was going with this.

"Why were you late?" she asked with the same pleased tone.

"Well," he repeated, whenever he became nervous around Quistis he would say that word at the beginning of each sentence, it was just a sign for Quistis that she had him cornered.

"I don't know about them, I'm assuming they were just slacking in the halls or held up in their previous classes." He said forcing professionalism, trying as hard as he could to avoid his reason for lateness.

But Quistis was wise to his subject dodging, she would have him soon, it was all a matter of time, but she was not concerned even though she had a time limit.

"Well?" she taunted.

"Fine, I overslept," he admitted finally, his hopes of secrecy dashed like spilled pudding and nuts.

"You overslept?" she stated it more than she asked it.

Clearly she was outraged but Savior refused to look at her at that moment, so he couldn't judge very well how outraged. She was no doubt about to throw herself into a fit now. Damn, this was not the conversation he wanted to have with her before a mission.

Savior knew very well that it was only a field exam for the cadets and not an actual mission but there would still be participation in combat, in fact if Savior had heard right the entire mission was just that. Regardless of all the facts; he knew he could handle the enemy, he was a skilled fighter, and Quistis was not even participating in the combat with him. But there was always that chance he wouldn't come back, and he didn't want their last words to be unpleasant. As unlikely as it was that he wouldn't survive a field exam he was still very concerned.

"Quistis?" he asked almost sounding timid, even through his voice filter Quistis could make out his tone as soft as it was.

"To think that your mask was off when you were supposed to be around," she was already on her tirade. He'd be lucky to get a word in edgewise at this point.

"Quistis!" he demanded. Quistis halted her tirade quickly and brought her attention to his lone goggle.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, but it sounded heartfelt, too heartfelt for sleeping in late when he shouldn't.

"It's not that big of a deal really, I guess I was exaggerating," she said apologetically.

"It's alright Quistis; I understand why you're concerned." He said kindly.

Then they shared one of those moments you want to enjoy and let linger because you know it should be over already. Quistis didn't seem to notice of all the people in the group they were the only ones who had stopped for no apparent reason. He wanted to forget about it and pull her into the ring of water or something. But he had an obligation to play his part in keeping the order of the Garden, so he told her.

"We should probably get going," he said, and she quickly caught on as to why.

"Right," she said.

They shuffled quickly back into the crowd trying not to run, else they be embarrassed. Much to their mutual chagrin they were separated, this time due to one of Quistis's obligations.

"I'm sorry we couldn't talk longer but I forgot to collect some of my student's papers," she said rather quickly, and Savior excused her with a nod.

Quistis smiled and imagined him smiling back, with the imaginary face she had given him, it was only temporary though, and someday she wouldn't need the imaginary one.

Once she was a good distance away from Savior Quistis manifested some of her proverbial frost for the encounter she was about to have.

Quistis didn't hate Joselyn. She only detected a familiar brand of malice in her, it was so familiar that Quistis knew for sure that it was for her, it was very distinct and only one other student she could think of had shown it to her in the past. Once she had an adequate coat of frost developed she announced herself.

"Cody, Grave, Joselyn!" she barked, and tilted her head up a bit for emphasis, or perhaps it was for eye contact with Joselyn, she decided she'd rather not discuss that with herself at that moment.

At this point most of the students had dispersed between the hangar and the dormitories and conveniently all three of them were headed for their rooms. Each of them turned around to address her, and when they tried to salute she just stopped them. Although it was practical to indulge formalities like salutes especially before a mission –any mission, even if it was only a test- but Quistis was not in the mood, she had three papers to grade and she needed to do it quickly.

"I believe the three of you collectively forgot something?" she said in her instructor's tone, the same one used after someone made a mistake and then the teacher would say, 'What did you learn?'

Each of them shrugged until Cody remembered for all of them and handed his test to Quistis. Grave and Joselyn followed suit and looked particularly eager to be relieved of their instructors presence but Quistis still needed to bother them.

"Alright, I'm sure everything is in order but I still need to check these to make sure you passed," Joselyn scoffed but Quistis pretended not to notice, and Grave pretended not to be agitated. Cody pretended not to be amused. Grave knew Joselyn was inches away from saying something that could get them all in trouble so he cut in.

"Will that be all Instructor?" he asked politely.

"Yes Grave… I supposed I'll see you all in about ten minutes, I will give you your final mission statement then off you go," she said feigning excitement, which normally would not be feigned but for some reason when she was around students, Joselyn in particular Quistis had trouble mustering a genuinely positive tone.

Quistis left without another word which was good for Grave, but now he had Joselyns temper to worry about.

"Why are you always defending her?" she demanded, determined to get the answer she was not going to get.

Quistis smiled a distance away from them, and giggled to herself. The similarities were so uncanny Quistis was surprised the girl didn't have a trench coat flapping behind her at all times.

Grave and Joselyn entered their dorm –or their lair as they sometimes called it, although it wasn't quite big enough to be a lair—to do exactly what they weren't supposed to do.

Rest.

Grave found a spot on the carpet that was out of Joselyns way and collapsed. They had a good five minutes to kill before they needed to go to the hangar so they made the best of it. All Grave needed to do was grab his crowbars. Joselyn surprisingly wasn't bringing her sword; she had something else in mind for their mission.

Joselyn entered her room and rummaged through her closet –which upon inspection of Grave's closet would prove far messier by comparison—throwing clothes and objects that she assumed weren't fragile when she threw them over her shoulders. In the back was her prize, and even Grave would agree it was something that Instructor Kinneas had done right.

Joselyn pulled a briefcase much like the one Cody carried out of the bowels of her closet with effort so great it looked overly dramatic, and if Grave were watching her he'd probably have laughed out loud. She set that thought aside and opened the briefcase and underneath was Joselyns other prized possession. Inside was her very own M21 sniper rifle, it was a 44.1" (112 centimeter) 51 millimeter caliber fiberglass and steel beauty with a 20 or 5 round box magazine capacity with a 900 yard maximum range and damn was it ever shiny.

Joselyn slung it over her shoulder and aimed out the window at a bird that she wouldn't dream of shooting. The weapon was unloaded anyway so even if she was sadistic like Grave she couldn't shoot the poor thing. But Joselyn wasn't stupid, in her case and even in her jacket she had plenty of ammo, and to make for her lack of a sword she had stocked plenty of spells that morning –including a few high level spells she wasn't authorized to have and she didn't even tell Grave or Cody about those.

"You're fawning over your gun again aren't you?" he asked disdainfully, almost sounding like he didn't approve of the attention she gave her weapon.

"Sure I am, so what?" she asked innocently, or as innocent as someone holding a sniper rifle could be, and though Grave couldn't see her he knew she was holding it.

"You're always pawing that thing, it's like you've forgotten that you have a sword, are you even bringing your sword?" Joselyn didn't answer for a moment, his voice sounded a little muffled and she couldn't help but imagine him with half of his face against the carpet while trying to speak coherently.

"For your information no, I'm just bringing this and some spells"

"What about your GF?" he asked rhetorically.

"Well of course I'm bringing my GF," she said reluctantly putting her inanimate friend back in its case, relishing momentarily in the 'new gun' smell before sealing the briefcase.

"Your smelling it again aren't you?" Joselyn froze as the briefcase clicked shut, and couldn't answer for a moment, his voice sounded normal again, apparently he had gotten up.

"Am not!" she said too loudly giving away her deception. She adjusted her skirt as he leant against her doorway.

"You really creep me out with that thing you know that?" he said nonchalantly and left her doorway, "c'mon, we've got to go, and I have a book to return," he said changing the subject gladly, although judging by his tone Joselyn couldn't detect that. Grave swiped his crowbars from the table next to the door and secured them on the hooks attached to his belt.

Joselyn chose not to answer that. They left their dorm and Joselyn made her way to the hangar, while Grave risked lateness by going to the library for the first time in two weeks. Over the course of their time rooming together Joselyn had started to share disdain with Grave. She was not as bothered by Instructor Kinneas as Grave was because of his link to her now precious weapon. Although he did hit on his students –including her—too often, she could tolerate it if it was more subtle but he was very direct about it which bothered her.

And there was the dressing like a cowboy thing to think about, which was the only reason Grave disliked the man from what she could tell.

Joselyn thought she was beginning to understand his point of view about the other people of the Garden. Zell bothered her a bit and he was sometimes rude. In fact the heroes in general were bothersome. They had the adult quality about them that never failed to bite at adolescent mentality, which was absurd considering they were separated only by three years.

But by far the most bothersome thing Joselyn had discovered about Grave was the total absence of mirrors. Even in the bathroom, she found it hidden in her closet –once Cody's closet—and at that time considered asking Grave what the deal was. But she quickly decided that was unwise and asked Cody the next chance she had.

Cody had very little to say about it. It was not fear, or even superstition about breaking them, it was just another symptom of Graves insecurity about his appearance. At this Joselyn had scoffed and Cody, much to Joselyns surprise, scolded her for it. His friendly demeanor was reinforced however when he explained to her that Graves friendship was not to be had if she disrespected his issues –for a moment she had thought that Cody was actually a guidance councilor in disguise. Judging by how he had put it he seemed to think she was somehow interested in Grave, and she was. She was interested in him the way a young independent was interested in a dwelling of her own.

After their long talk Joselyn snuck back into her own room and hid the mirror again, sometimes she would bring it out and use it after Grave had fallen asleep or just hidden himself in his room for whatever reason. She still hadn't talked to him about it, and she wasn't sure if she would. Maybe she would, if they came back she'd talk to him about it.

A friend wasn't supposed to keep secrets from their friend that was what Joselyn thought. But really she just hated it when others left her in the dark.

Joselyn is hiding something from me. She seems to get fidgety and distracted by things more when she's working up the guts to talk to me about something. What bothers me is she hides her problems concerning me from me. I'm the last person she should keep those things from. And I know that it is about me, because when she has trouble with others she is open about it. Just yesterday we were discussing the pretentiousness of Instructor Kinneas.

Hmm, that brings a smile to my face.

Joselyn is an entertaining friend, sometimes she's more fun than Cody because Cody doesn't like to make fun of other people, and I thrive on that, Joselyn isn't quite the same but she does enjoy mocking with me.

I don't really need to return this book, I'm just sick of seeing her behave the way she does with that gun. I've been submitted to enough of that for a week and a half now and there are few excuses I wouldn't take to get away from her when she's toying with that thing.

I curse Instructor Kinneas once more for giving her that cursed thing. Even though I know that Joselyn would have the same kind of excitement from any other sniper rifle, had she received it from anyone else. I just have an easier time if I pin these problems on faces I dislike rather than facing them against the faces I do like.

And I do like Joselyns face.

I note as I enter the library that Shield is not stationed here for once, perhaps he'll finally see some action. If so I'm happy for him, a field exam isn't much but at least he'd be doing something productive.

Nobody's here, not even the librarian involved with Instructor Dintch, perhaps their in the back or something… no, of course, now I feel stupid. The library isn't even open yet, so of course there's nobody here. I toss the X-ATM092 blue print on the counter and leave for the hangar –the blue print is the mechanical equivalent of the anatomy books, so of course I couldn't resist to take a look.

When I make it to the hangar everyone else has arrived, and all of the Whelps are hovering in the air with the hatches wide open. The smell of fuel and hormonal teenagers seems to slither into my nostrils and offends my smell receptors –separately they're fine but smelling them together creates some new kind of odor I can't stand. I scan the area for my designated comrades and spot them immediately.

Quistis has already begun to brief Joselyn and Cody, perhaps I should have endured Joselyns gun fawning… no. Quistis notices me and waved me over, she doesn't look too annoyed, so perhaps I made it in time after all. I take my place beside Joselyn and take a moment to look at her; she's giving me a menacing stare. I try as hard as I can to look innocent, but that's awfully hard when one doesn't know what they're accused of.

"You're late, and I'm responsible for you now" Joselyn sounds awfully cold, colder than her scent even.

But she wasn't like this a few minutes ago… Perhaps I should just chock it up to womanhood, women are really fucking weird anyway so maybe I can get away with that mentality for this.

Before I can ask what she means Quistis answers me.

"As I was saying before Grave," she says to me alone but still sounds like she's addressing all of us.

"Joselyn is the captain of your squad, you are to follow her every instruction unless it goes against a higher order, in which case discuss her plans with her and make a fair compromise. This sort of thing is unlikely to come up for this exam since all you'll be doing is building up a kill count, but these rules apply nonetheless."

You might think I'd be disappointed but I think this is perfect. I have never considered myself a leader. If I were a leader I would no doubt lead my team into the valley of death and that would be the end. I have virtually no sense of strategy, but Joselyn does. Just one of the numerous things I have learned after living with her for two weeks.

Quistis's voice is almost drowned out by the sound of other lectures, and whelps heating up for take-off. I think Joselyn and Quistis are squabbling about something but I can't quite tell, the smell of engine oil and teenage bodies is distracting me.

Quistis produces a map from a nearby table and shows us Dollet, this map is a scribble at best, and there was more to Dollet than what is on this map, but then again Dollet isn't the same anymore.

"The Dollet Dukedom is in ruins. Galbadia is using it as a temporary base and as the Headmaster said they are most likely planning to use it as a vantage point for attacking FH," she points to a spot on the map marked above the beach, atop a flight of stairs, it looks like an archway.

"This beach is where the whelps will land after dropping you off, you will be dropped on the other side of town. Once you receive the order to retreat you will head directly to the beach –and do not allow yourself to be distracted during your departure," she's talking very tersely now, she wants us to be careful at that point.

Quistis looks straight at Joselyn the same way she was a minute ago when they had that disagreement I missed. I don't think she trusts Joselyn, they're like two negatively charged ions when they speak together. Not like in class when Joselyn would just bother her a little bit by whispering loudly or trying to get my attention. This is worse; it's almost like a stand-off.

"Captain Joselyn, you are to instruct your fellow cadets and PesticidE now, I wish you all the best of luck," she salutes us and we salute simultaneously. Quistis leaves us the map and clops off somewhere –perhaps to Savior before he takes off. Before Joselyn has a chance to speak Quistis turns around.

"And Grave?" she looks questioningly to me, not quite turning around all the way.

I raise my eyebrows rather than speaking.

"The X-ATM092 is not a lubricant," she says matter-of-factly and quickly departs before she can see Cody and Joselyn crack up.

Their laughter stops before I notice and a gloved hand waves in front of my eyes, I turn to Joselyn more abruptly than I mean to.

"What?" I ask.

"Quit fantasizing about the teacher and listen," she looks at me a little scornfully, with a hint of some other emotion I can't identify.

Joselyn picks up the map and studies it privately for a moment; meanwhile our bodyguard is nowhere in sight and our pilot is the same. Joselyn is still ignoring Cody and me so I should discuss this with him.

"Cody," I try to catch his attention but he's watching someone, I try again and he still doesn't respond so I look in the direction of whatever has his attention.

I see Selphie Tilmitt.

She's so hyper I sometimes wonder if Instructor Kinneas has to wipe the sugar off his dick after they fuck. But Hyne help me if she's our pilot I may have to really kill Joselyn to spare her the suffering of being Selphies passenger. Based on what I've heard from Quistis, Selphie has a terrible reputation as a pilot. Quistis claims that although Selphie is now skilled at flying, to be her passenger is similar to falling from a collapsing building. It's very dangerous and if you aren't junctioned you're likely to die.

I myself am junctioned although the only thing I can enhance is my strength and even that isn't enhanced very much. None the less I'm confident I can survive the turbulence.

Ms. Tilmitt is approaching us and I know she is coming to us, I hope against hope that she will pass us and fly for the students behind us, that it only looks like she's approaching us. But I know she's coming, I have the same feeling of inevitability that I felt two weeks ago when I first encountered Joselyn, after she had frozen me in the ice and I watched her swing her weapon into my chest. I watched it happen and now I'm watching this, it feels exactly the same.

"Hey gang!" she stops right in front of us just short of tripping and falling at my feet. "Are you ready?" Cody and I nod but Joselyn is still busy studying the map.

Which is absurd, I understand that when you are the leader there is pressure to be felt but she really should have a plan by now. I punch her in the arm to get her attention and all I get is a mean look.

"Joselyn, we need to know what to do," she just gives me another mean look.

"I'll think of something, I'll just tell you on the way," I look at her dubiously. "What? We'll be fine," I am not convinced, clearly the others feel the same, this doesn't look good.

"Well, before we take off I need to ask you three a few things," Joselyn folds the map quickly to my amazement –I've never understood map folding, I envy anyone who can do it right—and puts it in her pocket, probably for the ride to Dollet.

"First of all are you all Junctioned?" Each of us nods.

"Good, who do you all have, Cody?" she asks then blows a small lock of hair out of her eyes, too small to notice until she blows on it.

I think this is stupid, but apparently making sure who has what Guardian Force is part of protocol. I can't imagine why, it sounds rather trivial to me.

"Crusader," he says nonchalantly, but anyone could detect his arrogance. Crusader is a dangerous GF, even for the one who junctions them.

From what I understand Crusader is three demons, they each borrow a portion of the life force of three team members –I don't know what they do if there aren't three team members to drain—they use the energy to create weapons and redeem themselves by destroying every enemy in sight as quickly and efficiently as possible. Interesting that Cody was trusted with them. I have to admit that I'm glad I was not trusted with Crusader, a GF the sucks the life out of you seems to defeat the purpose the GF's serve.

Selphie is fidgeting, she's probably eager to fly us to our deaths, or just fly us to death. Joselyn would probably scold me for judging her before being Selphies passenger –especially since I'm judging her based on things Quistis told me. And that is why I will not bring it up, if I'm right then Joselyn and I can agree about it later after we've relieved ourselves of our breakfast.

"Joselyn?" she asks rubbing her foot fiercely into the steel floor.

"Maduin," she says simply, and Selphie and I raise our eyebrows, but Joselyn looks uninterested in explaining.

I have never heard of this Maduin, I'll just have to hope she uses soon, and hope that it isn't like the sadistic Crusader. I decide to get ahead of Selphie; she seems eager and if she does end up killing us all it may as well happen soon.

"Salamander," I say with less pride than I have for my Guardian.

"Good!" she exclaims and hops, apparently we're almost ready, except out PesticidE is missing, we're not supposed to leave without her.

"The Whelps aren't exactly finished," Joselyn and Cody look rather uneasy and Selphie explains.

"You see the hatch takes a while to open and a while to close which is why they're all floating already, it's slow to close and slow to open which is why we need to time everything right. You need to get inside soon because the hatch is set to close already. After it closes we take off, but halfway through the flight it will start to open again," we must be looking at her strangely because she looks doubtful. Perhaps we don't seem to grasp it.

Selphie just waves her hand dismissively.

"It's alright if you don't get it, I'll just tell you what to do and we'll be fine," Joselyn and Cody look content about that.

"Good, let's go then, hurry before it closes!"

Joselyn and Cody pick up their weapons and we race to get inside the Whelp. As we enter the vessel it dawns on me what will happen. We may have Instructors and PesticidE's watching us today but we will be responsible for our own lives. We are going to enter a battle field and kill people –this bothers me less for some reason—and people will try to kill us. We have never done this before but every student I've seen today looks so confident. They don't seem to be thinking about the danger taking place, they look ignorant and carefree when they should be preparing themselves mentally for a bloodbath. Planning is in order; I need to act beyond Joselyns authority if this mission is to work. I may not be a good leader, but I can take orders, I will take my orders to a higher extreme.

The First Demon Of Balamb Garden

Fujin and Raijin stood in the doorway of the hangar and watched as the Whelps took off. Fujin had taken a moment to look away to see Raijins face and the pride he showed there. She was still looking, and felt envious of him for some reason. She couldn't remember feeling as proud as he looked just then. Seeing his hard work put to use was clearly a healthy boost to his ego.

She was happy for him.

Fujin looked back to the Whelps as the last few took off. They exited through the exit that was once for the cars. It had since been enlarged and still looked rather awkward. The lower right quarter was shaped a little bit differently than the rest. And the doors opened and closed looking morbidly like a giant mouth with a noticeable fang cavity.

Sometimes Fujin thought the mechanics took the dragon theme a bit too far.

"So how do you think they'll do?" Fujin was a little startled and she hoped she didn't show it, when she turned back to Raijin he was grinning a bit mischievously so her hopes were clearly shattered.

She tried not to pout and answered him.

"What do you mean?" she pretended to ignore his grin.

"Those kids who cut each other up two weeks ago, they're on the same team." This time Fujin did make a face.

It wasn't long ago Fujin heard about that incident. She wasn't on duty in the Training Center the day that had occurred, which meant that a PesticidE was there in her place. The name of the bodyguard escaped her but she clearly remembered scolding the woman. Annoyingly enough Fujin couldn't tell how sorry the woman really was, thanks to the efficient garb all PesticidEs wore.

"Yes, I heard about that, I wish I had been there," she sounded remotely regretful.

"It's not your fault Fujin, besides they're alive and well now," he patted her strongly on the shoulder.

"I don't care, I still wish I had been there," she said stubbornly.

"Let's go, I'm hungry" she left the room quickly and left Raijin to scramble clumsily six steps behind her.

"Hey not so fast!" he said and didn't catch up until she stopped and waited for him.

"So" he continued after they had been quiet for a few minutes. "Do you think they'll work well together or just fight more?" he asked eagerly, very interested in her thoughts as he always was.

"I don't know Raijin, like I said I wish I had been there," she looked to him again and he seemed to on the verge of pouting, albeit a fake pout, she decided to humor him.

"But if it makes you feel any better I doubt they'll fight at all," that seemed to put Raijins concerns to rest.

Fujin wasn't sure what Raijin saw in those kids, but he clearly saw something of good potential. Despite popular opinion Raijin tended to have good judgment of others, that's what Fujin thought, perhaps those kids would do well today.

"Hyne Damn it Grave will you drop the cold shoulder act and help me?"

"What's that? I can't hear you the hatches are still open," he said holding one hand to one ear mockingly, and in Cody's opinion rather cruelly.

A few moments after take off Joselyn was faced with the embarrassment of forgetting to strap her harness over herself. Moments after take off Selphie –without warning—upturned the whelps nose and Joselyn being unrestrained nearly fell out of the vessel, Selphie had not yet stopped the ascending. Joselyn was currently hanging from Grave's waist like it was a life preserver –which in fact, he sort of was—Joselyn was genuinely fearing for her life since, like Grave had said, the hatches were still open so if she let go she might have fallen out.

Grave was just smiling, unconcerned. Really he was confident that she would be fine, she had a death grip on his waist after all. It wasn't until he actually looked at her that he decided to help. She was genuinely scared and when Grave admitted it to himself, he didn't want her to be afraid because of him.

Particularly of him, but that was sort of trivial at the moment.

He continued to grin since he was still amused by the situation, and he still believed that she would ultimately be okay. He uncrossed his arms, reached under her armpits and –honestly trying as hard as he could to not touch her boobs—pulled her uncomfortably close to him in a bear hug.

Actually it was comfortable –uncomfortably comfortable—but she wasn't going to say that.

Eventually Selphie flew normally again and Grave reluctantly moved Joselyn back into her seat, he held her in place while she finally put her restraints on and let go sooner than he thought he would need to when she smacked his hands.

Grave sat back wordlessly and scanned the cabin to get his mind off things; Cody was looking more indifferent than usual, Joselyn was adjusted her skirt again, and their PesticidE was the same as Cody –albeit more characteristically.

It had turned out that their PesticidE Carbuncle took her place in the Whelp before they had boarded themselves. She apologized superfluously and Grave let her know it. Now they were thankfully with a body guard, but as usual for Grave they were also with an uncomfortable silence.

If you would call the noise of the engines and wind passing their vessel at a couple hundred miles an hour silence. Uncomfortable though, certainly.

The so-called silence became actual silence moments later when the hatch sealed itself. Leaving a calming quiet this was interrupted with matching ringing in every ones ears. It would remain closed for about five minutes before it would slowly open again.

Joselyn turned as far away from Grave as her restraints would allow her too. Too often she tried to be friendly with Grave and too often he would flick metaphorical salt in her eyes. If not for his culinary skills she would probably ask to be moved to room again, although she would still stay in some sort of contact with him.

He was certainly not Tucker, who was like Clorox in the intestines. But when Grave chose to be bothersome –Joselyn had decided that Grave chose to do it—he was an entirely different brand of bleach.

It was Tucker who inadvertently taught Joselyn to sympathize with Instructor Trepe on a certain level. Both of them shared unwanted fandom, although Instructor Trepe had more than one bothersome follower, but she had never had to room with any of the ogling eyed nitwits. Tucker was the enthusiastic petting human to her uninviting cat, persistent and with filthy, filthy hands.

Grave however, Grave's idea of friendliness was playful sadism. Even the smallest trouble she experienced that came to his attention made him smile if only a little. The seriousness of the problem seemed to gauge his grins. Actions –or lack of action in this case—like neglecting to help her when her restraints weren't on was not the sort of thing that happened often, but it still happened.

Cody all too often tried to remind her of Grave's finer points –and although she didn't always seem to give in she always would—he was smart, very reliable particularly in the departments of schoolwork and nourishment. And if Cody was right about Grave like he usually was then he would be an asset on the battlefield as well.

Joselyn was planning on ordering Grave to fight away from her. The reason she chose not to bring her sword on the mission was because she didn't want to feel an obligation to fight beside him. The truth was she was still afraid of him. If being his comrade was enough to keep him from slaying her then she wanted to see that for herself, sadly she could not muster the courage to trust him yet. So a test was in order.

It was true that Grave also put a certain burn in her belly, but it was far less painful than the one brought on by his scarecrow of a rival.

Grave spoke suddenly but politely, so as not to startle her from her reverie.

"So what's the plan Captain?" said Grave, she turned back to him immediately and upon inspection of his now polite features she answered.

"There is a tall building near our landing point, it's distant from the area the Galbadians have covered but it's not out of range of my rifle. We will infiltrate the building and dispose of any soldiers they have planted there, if I'm right then there will be few or none," everyone nodded, clearly paying attention and hanging on her every word.

It was a pleasant boost to her ego.

"Once there I will take my post at a high secluded point and participate in the battle from a distance. Cody, once the building is secure you will head in to the fight, but stay around the path to the building, or at least the vicinity, you'll make sure they stay away from me, and I'll make sure they're numbers around you are down," Cody nodded uniformly.

"I don't give you orders do I Carbuncle?" she asked genuinely as a question, rather than the stern certainty you would normally hear that phrase with.

"No, Miss," she replied uniformly as well and Joselyn tried not to smile, that image of a SeeD nutcracker was still flashing in her head like an amusing roll of film.

The hatches began to open again, opening quicker than they had closed, and filled the jet again with the sound of winds that might have swept away birds.

"That leaves you Grave," she addressed him sternly and paused for a moment, she thought back to their meeting two weeks prior, just for a moment.

"You belong in the fray," was all she said, and Grave's pleasure could've been seen by the blind.

"Very well," he looked like he wanted to say more but wouldn't, she almost asked him what he was grinning about this time but the speaker she was previously unaware of flare to life with that short pilots voice.

"We'll be landing in a minute, get it together everybody 'cause I'm not flying you guys back if you don't get off this jet!" she threatened perkily, too perkily for the threat.

"We're almost to the beach kiddies, hang on!" there was a click from the speaking meaning that Selphie had put the microphone back in place.

Grave touched Joselyns hand then, and when he had her attention, he showed that arrogant smile she was reluctantly becoming fond of.

What's this?

He pulled one hand from her secure crossing of arms and pulled it as close to his face as the restraints would allow, he waited for her features to soften, and once she looked dubious he stroked her fingertips with his other hand.

Right before he nearly scared her to death.

Grave unbuckled his restraints and kissed her knuckles briefly, so briefly she almost didn't notice, and allowed himself to fall out of the Whelps open hatch.

He was gone in an instant.

Even Cody looked surprised.

Joselyns heart stopped and she noticed. It only started to beat again once she willed it to, and once she did she regretted it because it was beating too fast. The tears poured out of her eyes before she even registered the loss. She wanted to lie down, but her seat was ramrod straight and her restraints were strong on her body. So she just closed her eyes

–which didn't stop the tears—and took long deep breaths.

Upon inspection she would have known Cody was in the same condition. Carbuncles concern was uncertain but Joselyn couldn't care less about their bodyguard at the moment. She wiped her face of salt and moisture and wiped it on her jacket collar where her other tears had gone.

When they would land Joselyn would want to stay in the jet, but after some pushiness from the pilot she would force herself to swallow her tears and get out.

She had lost most of her enthusiasm for the exam. She was planning on counting on Grave no matter how far away he was, but she couldn't count on him where he was now.

The test was less of a manhunt now, now they would just try to survive.

I've always wanted to fall from a high distance. And now that I'm finally doing I can say that falling from the short ones is just a crumb compared to the cake. Two weeks ago when I fell from the entrance/exit of the Training Center I lost consciousness before I could enjoy it, although that was somewhat of a short fall itself.

This must be what it's like to fly, but without the effort of staying airborne to distract you. The wind is strong, it smooths out my skin and my cadet uniform and I feel the way sea glass might feel if it were an organism.

As I planned the force of the Whelp is not making me fall directly down but towards the beach, towards the town of Dollet where I will kill my fellow humans for political reason that I will not bother to understand. The feeling of being forced in one direction reinforces the feeling of flying, I love this, I genuinely do, but I don't decide that until it is over and it is over too soon.

I bypass the water and the beach and the staircase and with great force my feet pound the brick walkway and I skid like an ice skater with confidence which I, by all rights, should not have. I'm sliding backwards and for a brief moment I hear the two soldiers occupying this spot before I've reached them. I hold my weapons on either side of me and wait for that sound.

CRUNCH

The sound is wonderful and hard to describe, it's snapping and ripping and squishing all at once and more. My momentum wanes, and halts. My head is bowed without shame, my weapons outstretched. After I collect myself from my stunt, I hope I don't look like I'm collecting myself for that would ruin the reputation I want my enemies to have.

After a nice deep breath exercise I walk back to my prey and a shiver of pleasure like soft orbs of powdered sugar runs up and down my spine, I shiver more when I hear their voices. They wail and scream and curse and each syllable hits my heart the way franks must hit Instructor Dintch's belly.

When I reach them I have to squint through the shadows to see. Perfect, their legs are separated at the knee, just like I'd hoped. I am off to a very good start, I'm proud of myself.

With relish I hold one bloody crowbar up to my nose and breathe in the scent like a suicide victim would breathe noxious gas and my fist tightens involuntarily –but not without permission as it were—because of this grand feeling.

Certain particles rise from the blood and into my body and I feel another sensation even more familiar than the others so far. Something… that's all I can call it, rushes through my veins then my muscles then my skin then my bones and doesn't stop until it all turns back and pools in my face. My mouth and cheeks smile, my eyebrows furrow, my eyebrows narrow and with finality if feel the gross but great contortion of my face as it changes shape. I can only imagine how my features look now that they are larger, and now that my expression is stuck like this. I imagine I will get the reaction I desire from my enemies.

I turn on my heel and run to the ruined streets of Dollet to seek out my every victim.

Squall stamped another form.

After two and a half years of being B-Gardens Headmaster Squall decided that he'd rather release the grease traps in the kitchen for a living, it would at least be more entertaining.

He lazily inked the stamp once again and stamped the next form rather sloppily, but it wasn't awkward looking enough for him to get another copy. This was the most tiresome part of his job and he dreaded it, he put everything else before it, even issues concerning Galbadia, or even Selphies 'Orphanage Gang Discovery Anniversary Reunion' plans, an event which was held every year on the nose despite Irvine's sloth-like nature.

Ink stamp, stamp form, place in 'OUT' tray, repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat. Sometimes he wondered if this was how assembly line workers felt when they had nightmares of doing their job just as it was during wakefulness.

Needless to say boredom made Squall think too much, and when Squall thought too much he started to think about things he didn't want to think about, even if they were trivial things or just obscure.

Back in the orphanage days and even just time before the sorceress war, this need to avoid thinking too much was the reason he accepted Seifers 'offers' of 'sparring,' or in the orphanage days his 'meany-hood' for stick fights. It was true that Squall would sometimes ignore Seifer but that was only if Squall was already occupied by something. Seifer could always negate whatever was occupying him so that his only option would be to fight him.

This must have bothered Seifer, he had always hated ignorance but he absolutely loathed it if it was ignorance of him.

Squall paused and shook his head. He was thinking about that dead man again, this couldn't be healthy. Perhaps the others were the same way? Squall certainly didn't miss Seifer on any level of himself he was familiar with, and he didn't have any reason to miss him.

Squall wanted to reason that it was just the custody issues but he was thinking about days at the orphanage, which had nothing to do with B-Gardens legality system. Perhaps it was memories returning from lack of GF use –which was silly he thought, since he hardly used his brain at all these days—just his brain doing its filing while he performed mindless simian tasks.

Squall set the stamping utensil in its tray and sighed heavily. He needed to demote himself, even if it were to be insisted that he at least keep his commander status. Commander would do, as long as he could go on missions again. Ideally he would demote himself back to normal high ranking SeeD, that way he'd have more time to do all of the sleeping he wasn't supposed to do during work hours.

Xu would without a doubt, jump on the opportunity like a lecher at a strip club. She was of a better fit for the Headmaster job than he was and they both knew it. But they never said a word to each other about it, and things stayed as they were because everyone was so convinced that Squall could do it 'and if Squall can then Squall should' was what they might say.

Well enough was enough, he would make the change tonight, and he wouldn't tell his friends or even Rinoa. He'd just make the announcement during his speech for the new SeeDs at the Ball. There would be paperwork to do, but Xu could do that, she wouldn't care and if she would then that didn't matter.

Squall was tired.

There was still the issue of overseeing the PesticidEs. Headmastery and working with the bodyguards would be too much work even for Xu, Squall knew that he didn't want to do it, he'd probably want to fire some of them, and they couldn't afford that. Quistis… she seemed to be interested in that Savior fellow, the first one who applied. But it was a lot of work and Quistis would want to continue being an Instructor… he could lessen her work load… that would be easy. Easier than most people would think.

It was settled then, demote yourself, fire Xu, rehire and promote Xu above your own rank somehow –whatever—lessen Quistis' work load, promote Quistis, withstand complaints and any argument Rinoa might have ready for him, sleep a hell of a lot more.

It was bullet proof.

"I do believe I have earned a nap," he said with equal parts pleasure and finality.

He stood up, and then fell back into his chair. His ass was asleep, damn it. Squall pulled himself up with the desk and tried flexing his ass muscles a whole lot. Thankfully Rinoa wasn't here; she'd probably make popcorn and pretend it was a show. It was frightening how she became the female Irvine when they were alone.

Frightening indeed, the first time they made love he thought some horny cadet with a crush had stolen her skin and worn it.

Once his blood flow was restored he checked the perimeter for possible 'Nap Police.' Upon confirming his safety he went back to his desk and relaxed.

Sleep took him almost immediately, his dreams took him sooner.

And his tongue went dry as his skin went moist as he entered his memories of the Dingo Desert, and not for the first time Squall questioned his own intelligence concerning leather and the desert.

Spectral Squall walked side by side with a haggard looking individual. He was wearing clothes that were clearly pilfered and with more aggression than permission. The blood told him that much. His hair was clustered and dirty, likely much darker than it normally was. The men was encrusted with sand and sweat and oils, some from machinery but most from his own skin.

The man was clearly exhausted but moved with great strides most likely inspired by the enormous prison he was walking away from. He was muttering things, mostly obscenities but occasionally Squall detected gaps in his line of malice, like he was reflecting on something pleasant to keep himself moving.

They seemed to walk forever, but really it had only been ten minutes, in reality the activity of walking that long would have taken hours but such was the magic of the dream world.

Their trek found them in Winhil. The town looked just as it did during Squalls adventure those years ago. But from what Squall understood Winhil was a town that scarcely changed; this could be medieval times for all Squall knew.

Such was the respect young people had for old small towns.

He sucked in the fresh small town air gratefully and Squall mimicked him experimentally. They walked with a brisker pace down the dirt road, but the look of uncertainty and caution on the mans face was not lost on Squall.

After a brief pause in front of the towns flower field and a hostile run-in with a mother Chocobo, the man was finally inside the town. He wiped the blood off of his neck with his sleeve and muttered curses in the wild bird's direction once across the bridge. Squall allowed his eyes to go wide when he saw the wound; clearly Chocobos were not to be trifled with.

He scanned the area for a drink and only found it after some embarrassing door to door searching. Squall might have pointed out if he had been there that Raines pub was across the street, but the man found his way to the other instead.

Inside the area was like any other room in Winhil sans the kitchen in Lagunas old house, filled with cracks and bullets for Hyne knew what reason. There was a minimal amount of occupants in the one room bar. All were old and just as healthy, and just as wary of out-of-towners. He sat at the counter while Squall chose to watch from the doorway, it wasn't as if he was in anybodies way after all.

He ordered a glass of water but instead of his order he received unwanted attention. The men started examining him, even the bartender although all he did was crouch just a bit lower, eventually they spoke up.

"Hey, yoo're thut kid who tried tu take oovur thu world ain'tcha?" said some drunk maliciously, with the random mix of slurs and barks drunks tend to make their accusations with.

"Just let me be, all right" Seifer said without hint of question in his voice, trying to sound reasonable but failing.

The drunks would've done a better job at hopscotch than Seifer would have at sounding reasonable.

"I doon't think shoo" said a second drunk trying to sound offending but it came out rather comical in Squalls opinion.

Then the barrage of insults came, much faster than the punches and thrown bottles. Squall couldn't even make out all of the words, they were mixing to together in a swirl of curses and excessive name-calling.

"Danged adolescent"

"Stupid kid"

"Lapdog"

"Boy

"BOY"

"BOY!"

BOY!

"…Seifer…" he said momentarily piteous in a pile of broken glass and drunks blood "SEIFER FUCKING ALMASY!" the scream tore out of his moth like sparks leaping from a bonfire, literally.

The drunks stopped and Squall watched in fascination as a bright red light shone from Seifers back, the wooden pillar behind him smoldered like wax in the light of lava and Seifer screamed again, and tears became steam on his face leaving flakes of salt under his eyes.

"I'M NOBODIES FUCKING BOY!"

All at once the red light wrapped itself around Seifer, and swirled off of him like an enhanced flare spell. The flames held no force; they just came in contact with every inch of the building and burned it with malicious efficiency, efficiency that clearly was not Seifer's doing.

Squall stood inside for a moment and decided to see the burning before it ended, he wanted to see it from the inside. Seifer was not longer visible in the chaos and Squall chose not to look for him. Moments after the flames erupted Squall noted something about the phenomenon, the sparks were gone, the flames were gone, it was just red.

Red.

It had been twenty minutes since landing before the team reached their first destination. The building they were currently infiltrating was six stories high and stood at one of the higher points of Dollets inclines. The building, particularly the room they were in, was barren of its former life and culture just like the rest of the town was. Where admirable architecture once stood there was dust and rubble caked and layered as pillars and walls. Where paint and artwork once graced the walls there was only paint chips, numerous, but small, much like the words of an almost lost memory on the tip your tongue.

They were now on the fifth floor and were most thankful to Hyne if there was such a woman. From the moment they stepped in the floors threatened to cave in, and the first floor didn't even have a basement that they were aware of, but more than that they were thankful that nothing gave away their presence. The enemies they encountered were minimal and were dealt with easily. Another thing that Joselyn had worried about briefly was Cody's weapon, it turned out he used a large spear and when in the narrow hallways it might have –but didn't—scraped against the walls and given them away.

None of their concerns got their minds off of Grave however, Joselyn was still crying though she hid it well since she was crying less, and Cody was the same. He had briefly tried to assure her that Grave would never kill himself –and certainly not with a smile on his face—and therefore that meant he muststill be alive somehow.

This did nothing to genuinely null her pain but she did give Cody a sad smile, the kind where you tighten your lips to keep the sobs from slipping out, which never works, sobs were like oiled slugs that way.

Joselyn did reason to herself at one point that Grave was certainly not normal. His feat with the boulder two weeks ago alone was proof of that. But she couldn't shake the feeling of death from her heart and other organs. It wasn't normal to feel this way about someone you met a few weeks ago she thought, but Grave's apparent suicide had struck a resound chord in her –or rather broken a few resound chords in her.

The remaining part of her that was un-phased by Grave spoke up to remind her that she was on a mission and said nothing more. She shook her head in vain to shake the feeling from her mind and trudged on.

She'd have plenty of time to mourn when she got back to their room… her room…

Upon inspection the fifth floor had no obstacles. Having been outside before they knew none were clinging to the windowsills, inside the room there was nothing to hide behind, unless the Galbadian military had recently developed the ultimate stealth system the coast was clear.

They made their way to the top and Joselyn immediately inspected the view of the town's center. The sixth level of the building was at this point mostly a floor, the floor was mostly still present, part of the wall next to the stairway hadn't yet crumpled, the ceiling was in pieces on the floor and the ground below, and one wall was still perfect, in fact it still had a fairly intact depiction of something left on it.

One of the walls absent left a rail of sorts behind, they ducked behind and peered over it, and found numerous Galbadians at the towns square. Others littered the indoors, most of the others were by the abandoned communication tower path, but most of them were in the vicinity of the water fountain.

They reminded Joselyn of blue ants with helmets.

Cody looked ready to leave and she was about to tell him to stay put but then she heard the sound of her fellow foot-soldiers. Cody didn't even make it to the stairs, in moments the other members of SeeD had swarmed into their designated areas. Like a blue river of teenagers they flooded through the streets, trickled into buildings, and pooled in the Fountain Square.

"That's your cue Cody!" she yelled over her shoulder.

"I'm ten steps ahead of ya!" he yelled from the fifth floor, sounding distracted by his upcoming fight.

Joselyn pulled on her skirt, squatted, slung his rifle over his shoulder, adjusted her skirt again, and aimed. The fight had already broken out and at once Joselyn was faced with a dilemma, something that Grave would have scolded her for if he were with her…

How the hell was she supposed to hit her targets?

The battle had begun, blood had been spilled and both sides already had casualties –thankfully most of which were on the enemy's side—but most importantly to her everybody was moving. She could fire but there was no telling if an enemy would get out of the way or if an ally would get in the way.

She decided to just suck in her gut and fire at something, this mission was technically for practice anyway, and she hadn't associated with all of B-Gardens cadets… Hyne she was starting to think like Grave.

She spotted Cody, he was already close to the main event as it were, near by him was a soldier, she took aim, waited for the incessant shaking in her hands to slow down, and she fired.

The soldier shouted and fell on one knee; Cody was alerted and turned to engage his first human enemy. It ended quickly, Joselyn would venture to bet that he should be grateful for a first kill like that, most were probably more work, and more than that probably weren't earned at all.

Joselyn took aim again and picked off as many blue ants as she felt comfortable firing at, doing her best to be Cody's Guardian.

The Galbadians should be ashamed; they are so like wingless flies. All that training they go through and it is for nothing. Nothing they trained for anyway, they didn't sit in the mud and rain for basic survival tactics to have their throats torn out while they were on the can, but that's what's been happening more often than anything else today.

It is a pity we didn't know this little interception mission of ours was a surprise to our enemy. Apparently they didn't even imagine we'd be here, no soldier who's ready for battle keeps his weapon six feet away from himself.

I am almost to the designated main battle field, which I admit has taken me longer than what might be considered necessary, since I keep making stops in the houses where the Galbadian soldiers think they're hidden in flies without wings, flies without legs for that matter.

Makes a sword pretty useless.

I push open another door with my weapon and ignore once again that I should be stealthy. The creaking of the door sounds of a tired cat fucking in the middle of the night, the soldiers inside are paying attention to something on the counter, apparently more important than possible intruders, they don't bother looking up.

"That you Earl?" asks one of them, a cup of coffee in his hand, where his weapon should be.

I say nothing; I just dash in his direction and swipe away his throat when he turns around to see if it's his comrade has returned. The other soldier present only has time to pick his sword from the counter and see the bloody grin on my face before I take his head.

The sharp point of the crowbar hits at the base of his neck, just below the helmet and gives me fantastic leverage on his spine, in the same motion I had his head and his spine with it, the column coming out of his torso like a noodle in red sauce being sucked into someone's mouth in reverse.

I hear foot steps coming from the stairs nearby, the loud sounds of boots and metal, heavier than the ones these two soldiers wear. I flip behind the counter being silent for once. And peer around the edge until my new victim shows himself.

It is a red soldier, the kind I have seen little of today. It is no surprise, bullets can be expensive, and it is much cheaper to forge swords anyway. Not that they can swing them for a damn.

He doesn't notice me yet but he will, Galbadian soldiers may be fools but they know to check the perimeter when they're men are down and there are no enemies in sight. He curses in that Galbadian slur and I take that as my cue. I remove the head from my weapon and it hits the floor with a noticeable slap. I wince, knowing for sure he heard that.

"What was that?" he asks warily, sounding more guarded then scared, that will do.

I use the blood on the floor to my advantage and slide out from my hiding place, he sees me and fires but his bullets seem to follow me rather than hit me. The firing stops about the time I stop sliding and I slide once again, this time to him. He's reloaded and aimed but before he can fire I duck. That's the trouble with those weapons, they discharge a set amount of bullets so stopping and re-aiming is impossible. The moment that round is empty I swing for his elbow and take his arm.

He's screaming now, and seems to have forgotten that he has a second weapon. I wait for him to face me again and I take his other arm for good measure. Both limbs fall to my feet looking as useless as their former owner.

I could leave this man to bleed to death but I'd rather not, don't want anybody calling for backup after all. I swing for his stomach and an absurd amount of meat and fluids pour out. I always expected that, the intestine is about a mile long in the average human being.

I hear no more prey so I turn to leave but I feel something tug at me. It's my weapon; I look and quickly feel silly. Apparently I still have the intestines wrapped up on the end. Mental note: Intestine tangles with a vengeance on non-edged weapons.

It takes some doing but I mange to remove the offending organ and can now leave the building, I still have victims left on the main battlefield.

Joselyn fired again and hid quickly behind the short wall. She took another deep breath and wiped the sweat from her hidden eyebrow. It astounded Joselyn how like swatting flies this was. The enemy moved constantly, and only certain moments would bear fruit if she fired.

And sometimes they just didn't die.

Why couldn't they be more like flies sans their legs and wings?

Joselyn took a moment and breathe some more. She couldn't keep herself from holding her breath when she aimed, she reasoned that it helped her steady herself, but it was also another bane to aiming. She couldn't hold her breath forever and more than once she had to let go at the same moment she'd see a good shot.

Cody would do well enough without her anyway; he was doing well to fend the enemies away with that spear of his. He had given her a lot more work she had expected, it was surprising how daring men with short swords could be against another man with a spear. Or rather, it was surprising how stupid men with short swords could be against another man with a spear.

Does testosterone kill brain cells? She would have to look that up when she got back to

B-Garden.

Joselyn adjusted her skirt again and got back in to position. As she took aim around Cody once again she saw a shadow looming over her from behind, the shadow stretched like an enormous wad of dark taffy all the way to the neighboring buildings roof, it seemed the sun was setting, she absently thought about how long they had been there.

Joselyn turned her head and reacted before she thought. The sword of her opponent struck the spot where she'd been firing and dug itself into the dust and stone. Her new opponent yanked the weapon out with ease and stood before Joselyn like a traitorous nutcracker.

"What the hell are you doing Carbuncle?" she yelled accusingly.

Carbuncle didn't answer, she just raised her weapon again and poised for a second attack. Joselyn scrambled to stand but she just fell again like a spider wearing roller skates. Instead she frantically took aim with her rifle and fired. This wasn't meant to happen, however effective a sniper rifle wasn't meant to be a close range weapon.

She should've brought her sword; she should've listened to Grave.

Predictably Carbuncle had sidestepped before she even fired. Un-phased by the gunshot Carbuncle moved in on Joselyn. Joselyn rolled out of Carbuncles swing and miraculously made it to her feet. Carbuncle swung again and missed Joselyn only by a hairs width, and cut the strap of her rifle instead.

Before Joselyn fired and dodged again Carbuncle gave an amazingly swift kick for legs as short as hers and sent Joselyns rifle in to the air. She was moving to attack again, and Joselyn wasn't moving at all, like a fool she had planned to simply grab her weapon again but it wasn't coming down yet.

Then after the hideous molestation lady luck seemed to be giving her all day long, she decided to do something good for Joselyn.

Carbuncles weapon sparked, which startled her and then it sparked again. Snaps, crackles, and pops resounded from the small sword then just like a snap of a finger, the weapon flashed and was gone. Leaving specks of light to fall from her hand like dust particles floating in a shaft of light.

Joselyn ignored her amazement and caught her weapon. Carbuncle was apparently equally amazed for when Joselyn took aim and fired Carbuncle grabbed the barrel and pushed it in the other direction. The bullet fired but she kept her grip, Carbuncle spun the other way and kicked Joselyn hard in the stomach and claimed the rifle, and with all the finality of a pretentious ice skater she positioned the rifle and aimed at Joselyn.

Joselyns uncharacteristic tears showed themselves again. The pain in her stomach was distracting so she didn't think to cast a spell, it probably wouldn't matter anyway, had the pain not been there she would've been surprised that Carbuncle hadn't fired yet.

She heard a sound nearby but it was distant to her. She couldn't hear anything clearly except for her guts wrenching, her throat choking back the air that refused to nourish her lungs, and words she imagined Grave would say to her.

You'll be fine.

Here, get up.

I thought you hated pity parties.

It took Joselyn a few moments to register that her Sniper Rifle was on the ground now and beside a growing pool of blood. She raised her bloodshot vision to her former enemy, she was still standing but she was bleeding at the wrists. Beside her was another PesticidE, a male one, and much taller.

It must have taken quite a lot of skill to slice her wrists while she was holding that weapon, in fact when Joselyn really thought about, it was impossible. Not impossible to do it necessarily, but it should be impossible to do it before she fired.

The larger bodyguard stabbed Carbuncle in the stomach twice, and then undid the device in the back of her head that secured her helmet, and pushed her to the floor. The pieces of the helmet fell from her head when she hit the ground the way it might have had it been shattered.

Joselyn stood up, still holding her stomach, wanting to adjust her skirt but declining since her hands were already occupied. She rounded her weapon, deciding she could pick it up later. She stood beside the defeated woman next to the new bodyguard; she inspected him, although that was most likely pointless, they all looked the same. She looked at the helmet, squinted through the day light and made out one goggle beside a smear of polystyrene.

Savior.

The man had a damn fine way of living up to his name.

She decided to save her gratitude for later and looked upon her traitors face for the first and last time. She was a rather pretty woman Joselyn admitted, healthy skin, long straight hair black like most of Graves, she was probably a lot prettier without all that blood pouring from her mouth.

"Why, Carbuncle?" Joselyn guessed there was a hint of sadness to his voice, but due to the mouth piece on his mask she didn't know.

Carbuncle coughed up a wad of blood and snickered just the tiniest bit. But it was a hollow and insincere laugh.

"It's what I was… sent here to… do Savior," she coughed again, more blood soaking her jacket. Joselyn imagined a frowning face behind Saviors mask.

"You were sent here to protect this young woman." He said sternly. Joselyn would have found it difficult to argue with him had she been in Carbuncle's position.

But then she didn't understand Carbuncle's position did she?

"Not from… Garden… from…" she stopped, thinking better of what she was about to say.

It didn't matter that she didn't say it, her dialect was unmistakable.

Carbuncle was a Galbadian; she was a spy, and an assassin. Joselyn wondered why she would be killed though. She certainly wasn't special, killing the Headmaster would've made sense. Perhaps she was supposed to reduce the number of cadets… or to send a warning. Joselyn didn't know, and she wouldn't find out, at least not now.

It was clear that Carbuncle wasn't going to talk anymore, be it from blood loss or loyalty. Savior took one last look at his former comrade and slashed her throat. She was a traitor and a spy, but he could still do her the favor of a shorter death.

With that Joselyn picked up her gun. She didn't bother to wipe the blood off, she was too sweaty, too tired. She scanned the floor for a dry spot and instantly gave up. It was truly amazing the amount of blood such a small body could hold. Her cadet boots made a distinct slapping sound against the blood and the dirt, which had mixed and created a thick coppery muck that would have sickened her had she been able to focus on it.

Not A Lubricant

Joselyn froze when she looked on the Fountain Square. She didn't crouch into position, she didn't even aim. She only gaped and felt gratitude, relief, and god-like anger swell around her heart like slithering reptiles composed of flame.

She didn't notice before but the noise of battle and death had died down, and now she knew why. The Galbadian soldiers were retreating, not bothering to carry their wounded or their dead. There were cadets left, many in fact, but most of them had left, apparently the order to retreat had been issued. She saw Cody safe in what could be considered a corner, still carrying his spear and battle-wary.

And in the center of the bodily wreckage of men black with soot stood Grave, bathed in blood and sunlight and looking so much like a demon.

A demon in daddy's work clothes she might have thought –albeit bloodied and shredded work clothes—because of that oversized jacket he'd insisted on wearing. The crowbars peering out of his sleeves like evil hands.

Joselyn thought she heard a noise in the distance but ignored it; they'd be leaving soon anyway.

Grave turned his head a bit and seemed to contemplate Cody, he signaled with his head for Cody to leave. Apparently she had been right about the order to retreat. Grave ran down the street much they he must have two weeks ago when he injured her. He was swift and if Joselyns concern was true, crazed as well.

It took him no time to reach Joselyns building and as usual he had a surprise for her, no matter how trivial it may seem –and sometimes it did. He scaled the building; he couldn't go inside and climb the stairs like a normal person could he?

Apparently not, he would probably excuse himself saying that he wasn't normal.

Which may have been true, but Joselyn secretly thought he was more human than most people were. She thought she heard the sound again but dismissed it the same way.

He pounced from the lower floor and landed on the ledge, he was crouching and held out his crowbars much the way he might have held his hands. He looked directly at her, and just used every ounce of resistance in her to keep herself from making a face that would offend him.

His face looked so… wrong, his mouth and his eyes were larger, scarier. He looked like a demented anime character brought to life. He was cackling… it was a sound she was familiar with but not like this, it was more a clicking sound than an actual laugh, different than a human laugh.

The only thing that could have redeemed this was if his pupils had grown with the rest of his eye matter but she was not so lucky.

He did nothing for a few moments, just stared at her and scared her and not meaning to do it but unable to help it. At once he leaped to her and stopped just in front of her, Savior was on him in a moment but stopped quickly.

It would be a long time before Joselyn would understand what happened that day, but until then she would consider it a blessing and leave it at that.

Grave slid for a moment when he landed in front of Joselyn, he looked up to her face with a widening gleam on his face and undecipherable intentions, but once his nose was before her neck the aroma of ice and saccharine fire wafted into his nostrils. It rushed through his system the way the blood particles had; first his veins, then his muscles, then his skin and then his bones and with identical finality his face. He felt the effects reversed, his eyes and his mouth and other altered features squirm and writhe back into their normal shape.

Grave is normal again, and despite the atrocious amount of blood surrounding them the way salt and water surrounds an island he did not change back. Savior chose this moment to sheath his weapon. He signaled Joselyn without his words that they should get back to the whelps. She nodded and waved him away.

Grave wobbled badly, looking like he would collapse but he didn't, he just looked tired, his eyes were half closed and Joselyn thought it would be better if she beat the shit out of him later. Hyne knew he had it coming to him.

Instead of falling or regaining his balance Grave fell against Joselyn, coming awfully close to burying his face against her breast, but instead his face was on her neck, he smelled her… she thought she was mistaken for a moment but he did it again and she didn't know what to think.

Joselyn was unsure of what to do. He didn't seem himself but he didn't seem himself moments ago either. How many Graves were there? She wanted to hug him, and cry on his shoulder even if for a moment. She was angry still angry with him but she was simultaneously glad to see him again.

But then again he had smelled her, and if she got really technical she could pretend it was molestation. He smelled her again.

Time to get technical.

Joselyn tilted his head up softly by the chin with her left hand, and with her right she struck him in the skull with the butt of her rifle. She spoke before he had a chance to react.

"You are such a fucking bastard," she whispered quietly, and softly, like it was a nice thing to say like 'I missed you.'

This awakened him. It took a few moments for him to totally take it in but Joselyn was crying and wielding her rifle as a blunt instrument against him and he wasn't sure why. He staggered back but caught himself before he fell off of the building, Joselyn didn't make any move to help him. Grave decided he was in quite the predicament; he was alone on a roof top with a crazy sniper who was hitting him, who he didn't want to hit back, and Joselyn hit hard.

Joselyn hit really hard.

What the hell had he done?

"Why's that?" he asked stupidly, he frowned when Joselyn removed her face from her free hand and looked at him, he hadn't noticed she'd been holding her face.

Her face was red with more than just blood –presumably from his hair—she'd been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin was flushed. Grave felt a bit guilty, not because of what he'd done, he didn't know what that was, but because he'd done something wrong again. It seemed there was just no winning with women sometimes.

"I thought you were dead!" she burst, she couldn't wait to scold him any longer, he'd hurt her, and it was in her human nature to want to hurt him back.

"…sorry…" he said lamely, and he mentally slapped himself for sounding so deadpan.

Joselyn just scowled, she marched away from him fast, down the stairs and at a regrettable yet safe distance away from him. She didn't say anything. Grave didn't waste time standing there; he followed her and her silence respectively.

When they were in the streets once more they scanned the area for Cody but he was nowhere to be seen. The words that he must have gone to their Whelp already went unspoken and un-ignored by both of them.

They walked quickly, not yet jogging but on the verge of it, Joselyn was anyway. She was happy Grave was safe but at the same time she didn't want to be near him. She could forgive him later.

Her train of thought and both of their paces were halted simultaneously when they heard the sounds of machinery; Grave didn't need to recognize it because Joselyn did. They took another step and heard the sound again. One more step, and the sound came up more. They drew their weapons and looked around them frantically. They forgot about their personnel issues quickly as the reptilian layers of their brains kicked into high gear.

It was twelve feet behind them, the X-ATM092 busted out of a rather large building that upon closer inspection, they admitted it did look more suspicious than the other buildings. It was closing in fast and rather than playing the role of the fearless heroes they decided to be sensible human beings.

They ran like scared little Moombas.

They ran as fast as they could but the Black Widow was gaining on them predictably, and they weren't very close to the Whelp landing sight. Joselyn swallowed hard, they would have to fight it.

Joselyn stopped and turned around, looking admittedly braver than she really felt, and Grave stopped moments after looking at her like she'd just sprouted wings and given birth to a thousand fire ants.

Was she fucking crazy?

The Black Widow surprisingly stopped as well, recognizing its targets as opponents to be dispatched rather than civilians… to be dispatched.

Joselyn was obviously not going to budge; she would either die or defeat the thing and die going back to their jet, so he had to stay too. He knew what to do; he didn't want to do it because it would be dangerous even for him, but he had to do it didn't he? Grave armed himself and stood beside Joselyn, he whispered to her, she yelled that she couldn't hear so he whispered again, noticeably agitated.

"What variant is Maduin?" he asked harshly.

"Electricity," she said sounding annoyed at first, but then there was a glint in her eye that said she understood.

It was a long but there was a chance they could get away. Joselyn knew this was hardly the time to celebrate but she understood now the questions on the quiz they'd taken that morning. All the questions were relevant to the mission they were going on. Their mission was to dispatch Galbadian soldiers, and where one found Galbadian soldiers, one would often find at least one Black Widow. To know what one was would be even the tiniest bit helpful.

Joselyn closed her eyes and focused on summoning Maduin, hoping against hope that Grave wouldn't do anything rash to keep the mechanical monster at bay.

Grave leapt on top of the Black Widow; or rather he leapt, caught the Black Widows head with his crowbars and climbed on top of it like a child playing on the jungle gym for the first time. The Hyne forsaken thing was oscillating like a mechanical bull now leaving Grave with few options but to jump off and hope it didn't tear his vulnerable comrade to bits while she was summoning.

Not likely.

He instead found a plate on top of the machines so called head and latched his crowbars onto it, he allowed himself to be flailed back and forth embarrassingly. Grave was typically not squeamish –obviously—but he decided it might be good to vomit before getting back on the Whelp, else he get it all over Joselyn.

The poor girl was pissed enough at him as it was.

After what seemed like an hour the Black Widow was thankfully still distracted by Grave, who was flung off of the Black Widow but not without reward. He struck the cliff side hard but remained conscious. It was worth it, the steel plate once protecting vital circuits inside the machines head piece clattered on the dirt near him.

Finishing their half-assed plan, Grave watched as he and Joselyn vanished. Grave took this opportunity to look at his hand. It was transparent now like beige and black cellophane and vanished still. He watched until there was nothing, until he had not even eyes to watch with.

Being a machine the Black Widow had no sense of confusion. Therefore, when its enemies vanished leaving no trace, as if they had never been there at all, it was forced to stall for a moment, to wait. Its creators knew their enemies tricks, they knew certain things about the way their enemy fought, and that included certain little details.

The Galbadians had programmed for the Black Widows to pause when encountered with this situation. They knew that when a Guardian Force was summoned its summoners temporarily left the battle field so as not to be harmed by their own weapon.

The programmers did not however, program the Black Widow to avoid any sort of attack; such was the arrogance they felt with their mechanical skills. And although on other matters that arrogance was valid, it certainly was not now.

The clouds overhead swirled and darkened like chocolate syrup blending into milk. They continued to stir and swirl and change until the clouds formed a ball which descended from the heavens, leaving a blue sky and bits of rain and thunder in its wake. The bits of cloud and thunder returned to the sky and brewed the guardian's power for it when the time came to attack. The cloud came away from the body like dandelion seeds blown into the wind by a leaf blower, and there before the Black Widow was its new target, or target was the word it used, for it had not the concept of superior.

Maduin took its moment of freedom to glance at the landscape as well as its designated enemy. His chocolate fur billowed in the wind created alone by his summoning. His horns and face the shapes of nobility and pride manifest.

Maduin stopped his reverie. It would only look like inane, frivolous stalling to his human masters; humans had that bothersome habit of not understanding the emotions of other things after all.

Maduin curled into a ball quickly and summoned the electricity from the clouds above to his horns and his back. It struck him but he did not stir, the power was the water to his duck, so it simply rolled off of him and around him. The energy curled on his back and in the same motion as his unfolding from his curl, he stretched the Chaos Wings and flapped the energy into his enemy.

Most of the bolts were attracted to the Black Widows head for reasons that were lost on Maduin. He thought that electricity was supposed to be conducted to all manner of his enemy's bodies, but this was the world of men now after all, they found the strangest ways to change things.

Without further attack or reverie on his part Maduin allowed his counterfeit physical form to dissolve. He regretted his brief time in the physical plane, for although it was the world of men now, it was still the world he had once lived in, and he did miss it.

Grave and Joselyn re-manifested when the smoke cleared and the sparks died down. They returned in the same spots where they had vanished, Grave on one side of the wreckage by a Cliffside, and Joselyn on the other side of the wreckage on the path back to the Whelps. Grave was the first to open his eyes, but Joselyn was the first to speak.

"Grave!" she yelled rather desperately "are you okay?" he didn't answer for a moment, but he soon got up and dusted off his ruined cadet uniform.

Good riddance.

"Yeah I'm fine," except my bones hurt a little, but you probably don't care about that right now do you?

Joselyn didn't say anymore, but she rounded the Black Widow looking like she wanted to just drag him back to the Whelp without further delays, they would be abandoned at this rate.

Before she could reach him and do just that –it was indeed her intention—he jumped onto one leg of the monstrous heap, and made his way across its broad back to the fried circuits on its head. Joselyn stopped in her tracks and gaped angrily.

"What in the name Fuck are you doing?"

"If we don't do anything this thing will just get up again," she gave him a disbelieving look, he continued, "if you don't completely obliterate these things then they just reboot and chase you more, but there are some wires in the 'head' that deactivate the thing if they're pulled correctly." He pulled a rather large cord out of the machine, which hung limply like an electric yellow noodle against the Black Widows 'face.'

"Oh and how did you come across this convenient information?" she asked with a barbed tongue and a feminine temper.

I wonder if Estrogen flares the temper, Grave thought idly. "Library book," he said simply, and removed another wire, this one blue.

Joselyn said nothing; she just rolled her eyes and sighed as if to say 'that figures.' She seemed to want to distract herself with something, anything really. She examined the machine curiously as if to confirm something until something dawned on her. She addressed him again.

"So what happens if you pull them incorrectly?" she asked warily like she didn't want to ask him.

"It turns into time bomb, reboots and seeks out the nearest enemies and explodes," he said far too nonchalantly, he took a moment to take in her shocked look, "it's a kamikaze thing," he turned back to his work and pulled a red wire, they were large, much like electric guitar chords.

"I know what it is! Why the hell are you doing this then?"

"Because if we do nothing then it'll just reboot and we'll have to fight it again, this is standard procedure," he said almost reassuringly, like making it out alive without doing this would somehow be worse.

Joselyn forced herself to relax a bit, Grave was being calm about this, which meant that he knew what he was doing. It was impossible for anyone –even Grave—to be so unconcerned about such a delicate procedure, wasn't it?

"Do you know how to do this?" she asked warily once again.

"Nah, these are color coded, and everything in the manual I read was blue, in fact I think that each one is different, its seems kind of random act…" he didn't get to finish, Joselyn was screaming now, comically actually, she didn't seem to be genuinely afraid, just distressed.

"Ya know you're cute when you're in peril," he said quickly, but not too quick for her, even while shouting, he went on without her listening, "not to say that you're never cute." She didn't look too pleased.

"Oh this is great," she began, "I am teamed up with a guy who is capable of sarcasm while standing on top of a potentially explosive instrument. I've never been this fucking happy in all, my, life," she finished melodramatically, and for a brief time Grave wondered if she would do one of those Garden Festival plays.

Probably not, actresses are often asked to wear dresses from what he had observed.

Grave plucked the last cord from the Black Widow and jumped ceremoniously from the machine, then landed unceremoniously at Joselyns feet, who didn't offer to help him up.

She was still bitter apparently, damn. Grave stood up, and they both dusted themselves off in vain.

"We should go now, don't know what it's going to do," he said as they started to leave.

"What do you mean, isn't it dead now? You just deactivated it didn't you?"

"We won't find out for a few minutes but we should leave now, hopefully we won't find out at all."

Joselyn shrugged in agreement and they set off at a fast pace, hoping they hadn't been left behind. She was about to say something when a sound interrupted her.

They had only rounded the corner of the other cliff side when it stood up again. They turned around stupidly, they couldn't see it yet, but they could hear it. And for the second time that day Joselyn was reminded of a movie she had seen once, it involved green

T-Rexaur and a rippling cup of water. Again the title escaped her.

They looked at each other simultaneously, the same way empty headed adolescent victims did just before the villain swung out of the shadows with a big machete, but unlike those adolescents they chose not to stall anymore and once again they became scared Moombas.

It only took the Black Widow a few moments to come into view again. They ran, and Joselyn didn't stop this time, this time fighting it would mean death no matter what they did. And she had already sustained more damage than she'd planned for to begin with. Their Whelp was in sight now and Joselyn was surprised they hadn't been caught yet; maybe Maduin had given the Black Widow a limp. She wouldn't count herself that lucky and she was too afraid to look behind her. The sound of engines and pistons and sparks was beginning to sound exactly like impending doom.

They were panting hard and their muscles were starting to give out, particularly Grave since he'd spent so much time in the battlefield when Joselyn had spent all of her time many yards away. She was tired too, and fear was clutching the inside her knees, running slower, sweating faster.

Next to the whelp they saw a figure of bright yellow light, and though their eyes were blurry with fluids they'd rather not identify it quickly became obvious that it was Instructor Trepe, glowing like pure magic for some reason.

For once Joselyn was grateful to see her.

Grave would never let her hear the end of it.

Trepe held up one hand in the distance and above her an orb of watery energy manifested. For many moments it did nothing and Joselyn cursed her loudly –although it may as well have been silent since only she and Grave could hear her expletives. The ball startled them both when it stretched into a shaft of bright energy, just as bright as its caster fired into a ridiculous direction far away from its target, then swept over their heads.

Neither could resist turning around. Below the offending machines claws the ground was molten with magic. It continued moving over it and still moved forward slightly after the ground burst and sent the Black Widow high into the air.

They didn't watch it fall back down; they ran back to the Whelp and leaped inside telling themselves they'd thank the Instructor later. Inside only Cody waited, he looked at them questioningly, clearly more than one question swimming in his bland eyes. Grave put on his restraints, the reminded Joselyn to do it to when she neglected.

Less than a minute later they were in the air, gratefully exhaling their fear and relishing the feeling of unused adrenaline tingling in their bodies. It took them a while to catch their breath, and once their lungs were comfortable again Joselyn broke the silence.

"So that's a Black Widow," she asked Grave, who only faced her as much as his restraints would allow and nodded.

"It totally looks like a Crab," she said matter-of-factly.

"You said it," he responded approvingly.

"Galbadians are fucking retarded," he nodded again, then they closed their eyes and let rest saturate them, and they were grateful for it.

Joselyn adjusted her skirt.

The reviewer who guesses the movie references I made gets nothing because they're so damn obvious. I hope this part wasn't too Grave and Joselyn heavy, I know this is a fanfiction so original characters maybe shouldn't play this big of a part but I couldn't help myself. This chapter was weird; because I started writing this story a couple of years before began submitting regularly, so parts one and two were written within about two years time or so, and THIS chapter hadn't started at all then which means that I wrote this in a months time. I think this is amazing because this chapter is about two thousand words longer than its predecessors. I've been considering changing my pen-name but I'm not sure if I care enough. Maybe now that I'm getting an original story published I'll have too. Well, read and review please, I can't wait to see what you think.