Disclaimer: I love ffviii... this is for everyone like me. Though we all wish it, none of us own what we've spent hours writing about. Hope you like my story.


The Kiss
emotions

"Mayor, I assure you, Balamb Garden's SeeD are the most reliable soldiers you can find. They will perform their duties flawlessly."

Visible through the floor to ceiling windows in Squall's office, another spectacular Balamb sunset was coming to its end. The office echoed with his speech, being so spacious – complete with high, vaulted ceilings – yet so empty, but for the large oak desk and a few chairs arranged about the room. He paced behind the desk, dragging his shoes on the fancy patterned carpet, fingers pinched tightly to the bridge of his nose. His shaggy hair fell over his face messily; his tie was tossed in a corner of the room hours ago; the top buttons of his dress shirt were undone, the sleeves rolled up, and the tails un-tucked; and a heavy sigh was threatening to heave itself from his chest. 'Another long day.'

"Yes, I can assure you. Please, Mayor, set your mind at ease. The orders have already been issued."

The business jargon and tone were still strange to him. It was almost like learning a foreign language by immersion – every day he was submerged into something so different, so... difficult. His language of choice usually involved little speaking, and often, lots of gunblade. Sometimes his weapon of choice might be different, but through and through, he was a soldier. What else did he know?

"Yes, Mayor. Expect them in town tomorrow."

This was getting exasperating. 'How many times do I have to tell this guy??'

"Yes."

'YES FOR HYNE'S SAKE!'

"Alright."

'Finally, this is ridiculous!'

"You as well, Mayor." Squall hung up the receiver quickly, not wanting to be caught by any shades of doubts again that may force him to struggle on the phone for even a moment longer. He collapsed into his desk chair, head hanging with his hand still targeting the pressure points in his forehead, an attempt to relieve some of a stress/speech-induced headache.

He barely had a minute before his secretary buzzed in. "Sir, another call for you from Dollet, line 2."

He growled. He turned over the wrist of his free hand and glanced hopefully at his watch. 'Well past seven. I'm supposed to leave at 5... How do I always end up spending all my time here?' He hit a little red button on his phone base. As kindly as he could, he managed to say, "Miss M.? Tell them I just left for the day. Urgent or not, I need a break. Thanks for staying late, again."

Another buzzing noise, and then a simple but very sympathetic sounding "yes sir. You're welcome."

Then, he sunk back into his chair again, and finally let go of the big sigh he'd been holding back.

"Ahem." He heard the cough, soft but suggestive and emanating from one of the lounge chairs before his desk.

'I left. I left. I left,' he grumbled inwardly. 'Alright, pull it together... one last thing and then you're home free...' Squall raised his head slowly, composing himself and masking his frustrations from the day behind his general, stoic expression. He couldn't keep it for long though – immediately he recognized his guest, and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow slightly, questioningly. "How long have you been there, and who let you in."

Rinoa smiled at his flat toned question, which was really more of a command to reply than a question sincerely entreating an answer. But to her, it was endearing rather than offending. 'He looks so disheveled and out of place!' she mused. This was the first time any of his five friends had seen him at work, and it was obvious to her that he really did work like a horse. Getting an appointment with him was harder than a behemoth's horn, it seemed! But she was clever... she had connections. "Miss M. pulled some strings and let me sneak past the guards at the gates, then I hacked some security codes to get in the building, blew up the vault safe door to your outer office, and finally copied your fingerprints that I stole from a coke can weeks ago onto a prosthetic hand and used it to gain access to your secret lair. Squall Leonhart, you are by far the most difficult man to get to during the day, although not for some, it seems... cough, Dollet Mayor Andrews, cough." She was laughing as she said it all, teasing him as only she could get away with unharmed.

Not taking her bait, he only grumbled a little in reply to her barbs. She only laughed harder. When she finally started to contain herself, he asked, "so really, how."

"I'm your 6:30 today. Galbadia's Deling emissary? A Mr. R. Hurst? How do you do." She held out a hand to shake, in mock introduction.

'Ah, the truth comes out. How sneaky.' He ignored her hand, chiding, "you know, it's not wise to cry wendigo. And if you're my 6:30, that means you've been here for at least an hour."

"You should stop letting M. schedule you after five," she said with an understanding smile.

"People need Garden right now. I have to," he countered.

"Or maybe you're just being a nice guy? Wanting to help people as much as possible? Maybe it makes you feel good, inside?" She shot him an accusational look, a smile in her eyes.

He hmphed, grumpily.

She grinned back. "For a meanie, you're quite the softie. But anyway, I wasn't 'crying wendigo.' For your information, I do have business," she stated, matter-of-factly.

Squall was slightly shocked. Raising an eyebrow again, he said, "You do?"

"Mm hmm." Rinoa finally moved from the chair in front of his desk, standing and giving her limbs a good stretch. Then she stepped around his desk to his side of it, leaning back on it after moving in front of him. "Your health is my business. You're my business," she smirked, with a wink. "And also, I have some documents for you from the General. I figured using a fake name was the only way I'd get in here," she laughed.

Sighing, he looked up into her eyes and reached for her hand, which she offered up immediately. Holding it with a firm grip in her lap in front of him, he murmured, "I'm fine. And leave the papers on the desk. I'll deal with it Monday." Then, in a slightly different tone, "you've been in here for an hour and I haven't noticed?" He was ashamed for his inattentiveness.

"No, just a little while. When I snuck past M. and came in, you were pacing around, talking to the Mayor on the phone and sounding much more composed and understanding than you looked," she giggled. "I'm proud Squall; you didn't slice anything to pieces! But then, you don't have your gunblade in here, do you?"

"I have some fierce letter openers."

She let out a big laugh at his dry humor, her eyes going thin and showing laugh lines at the corners – marks of happiness, she preferred. He drank her in as she laughed for him, a small smile on his lips. Her raven hair pulled back into a messy bun and his desk lamp light catching her streaks just so; the mirth in her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, her face; the slender column of her neck, leading to her shoulders and collar and chest, where he knew his ring lay without needing to see. Her pale arms, perfect lines, and pretty hands that fit so well in his. Just her, Rinoa, in the blue blouse and black slacks that said business, but the smile in her eyes that said something else completely. He looked up to her eyes again, and his frustration headache from today was remedied, miraculously.

She looked to him, pleased to see him smiling up at her. "Come get dinner with me?"

"Of course. My sincerest apologies for being so late for our appointment," he said in his most formal tone of voice.

She laughed again. "This is hard for you, isn't it?"

'More than you know...' He only nodded in reply, already heading towards the door with her in tow.

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"Z... S... I. In position. Let's do this, guys." A moment of silence passed, like a calm before a storm.

Then, out of the blue - "You play too many video games, Selph."

Some snickering could be heard over the line.

"Hah! You're just jealous because you're too 'mature' to play," Selphie nyah-ed back at Quistis, who was stubbornly resisting her role in their escapade.

"Ksshhhk - I'm movin' in."

"Zell, there's no static noise with these things, and you know that's not in the plan!" Selphie was obviously having a hard time controlling her team...

"Hah, I know, I've just always wanted to say that!" Zell laughed back on their communicator line. "This is gonna be so awesome!"

"As long as where we're going will have you fine ladies, it doesn't matter what the plan is," Irvine said in his smoothest voice.

"And you watch that Rico Suave video too much, Irvine." Quistis couldn't help but groan and couldn't stop her hands from reaching up to massage her temples.

"Oh Quisty, just get into it already!" Selphie griped.

"Oh Hyne! Alright, alright!" Quistis threw her arms into the air and gave up. 'I can't believe I got talked into this...'

"Ksshhhk – you sunk my battleship!"

"ZELL!"

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"So, do you always look this nice at work?" Rinoa questioned of Squall's dress shirt and slacks, walking around the grounds after dinner with her hand tightly in his. In her humble opinion, Friday night was always the best time at Garden to simply spending time with someone you care about, and not worry about being disturbed – a big plus when it came to Squall's company. So, while a great majority of the student population was out on the town or home for the weekend, Rinoa and Squall took a quiet constitutional. "This is the first time I've seen you straight from work, and the first time since Monday I've seen you for more than one continuous hour!" she laughed out the last part.

He squeezed her hand, hoping she'd understand that he was sorry for not being able to see her. They kept walking, strolling slowly, with no particular place in mind. "No."

Rinoa had almost forgotten what she asked. "No what?"

"I don't wear this to work, usually. Only when I have appointments. Miss M. advised me to look more professional," he explained succinctly, per usual.

"Ah, I get it!" she smiled, understanding immediately. Then grinning, she teased, "well, a very reliable source tells me that Mr. R. Hurst is very impressed, and flattered that you would dress up for him!"

He gave her a little smile and squeezed her hand again.

"Really, you look good. I like it," she complimented quietly, a hint of rouge in her cheeks. Then, trying to laugh off her embarrassment nervously, she asked, "can I even say that? Do you mind?"

He looked down at her as they walked and smiled. Even smiling was still somewhat new to him, and he huffed a little at his ineptitude at this – it seemed to come to everyone else so easily... Rinoa's emotions came out so smooth. Did he even have the same ones in him? No time to ponder it now, however, for even he understood that there was an acceptable window of time in which one was expected to react to projected emotions – miss it, and you look like an ass.

"I'm not an ass." 'Oh Hyne, way to miss it, idiot! Not smooth, completely UN-smooth!'

"What??" she laughed out, giving him a confused and shocked look.

'You OBVIOUSLY think too much! And need to learn how to talk, DESPERATELY!' He growled at himself, mentally chanting 'idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot...' He had some s'plainin' to do... somehow, he finally managed to stammer out, slowly, "I'm not a... jerk. You can tell me. Anything. And no, I don't mind."

Rinoa just had a big grin on her face, trying her best to keep any more laughs inside, not wanting to embarrass him any further. She gave his arm a tug to signal a stop, and when he did, she moved to slip her arms around his waist. She felt his arms go around her automatically, and she liked it; liked that he was getting over his shyness, liked that he didn't hesitate so much with showing her the affection she so cherished. She looked up into his strong, albeit slightly flushed face. Then, with an almost sinister smile and in a low voice for only Squall to hear, she murmured, "well then, Mr. Leonhart... I have it on good authority that a Mr. R. Hurst thinks that you look VERY sexy today."

His eyes went wide and he swiftly turned his head away from her, though he couldn't hide the full on beet red blush on his cheeks. Rinoa burst out lauging, tossing her head back and filling the relatively empty Garden with the melody of her happy laughter. There was something else she was filling, too... another emptiness. Squall tightened his hold around her, embarrassed as hell but too pleased with her obvious pleasure to let her go.

He knew that he could never, ever let her go again. Not like before.

"Thank you," he whispered to the night. "Thank you."

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"Targets spotted on South campus. Now's the time to move, Selph," Quistis whispered into her communicator, from her hiding place in the bushes near Garden's front gate.

Selphie's reply came in clear on the communicator – "We're moving. Meet you at the rendezvous point. Selph out."

Waiting for a safe moment to ditch her surveillance spot for the last half hour, Quistis tried valiantly to convince herself not to regret getting involved for the hundredth time. 'How did I agree to this kak-a-mamie plan in the first place?' she grumbled, picking leaves and burrs from her clothes in a pout. 'This better work...' Quistis could only hope for the best out of Selphie's convoluted plan. She sighed heavily, but thought, 'well, at least this part of it seems to be falling into place alright...'

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Their quiet stroll around Garden finally led them back to where this chapter in their lives really began – their balcony. She stood, her arms crossed and resting on the railing, her body leaning forward for support, and he stood, his arms wrapped around her, supporting her from behind. The whipping wind couldn't touch the warmth they shared, or the far away place their minds drifted to, this silent moment. He tried to memorize her in every way; from her scent, her heart beat, and the rhythm of her breath, to the shape of her, her presence, and her spirit.

She changed his life. She put this ache in his chest, good dreams in his sleep and the drive to live out his waking hours. It was she who found him after Ultimecia and put life back in his body. She was everything. She was still changing his life. And he thought that maybe, if he knew her, learned and memorized everything about her, he would find his answers. In his life ruled by order and logic, he desperately sought the clear answers, the reasons and rationalizations. How did it happen? How could this be? She changed his life, she was everything; she had to be the answer. She had to be it.

He inhaled deeply and exhaled in a loud sigh, catching her attention. She turned then in his arms to face him, slipping her arms around his waist and looking up into his face. "What's wrong?" she whispered, concern in her eyes.

He shook his head, wanting to quell her worry. "Just thinking."

"Tell me what about?" she asked, hoping to be let in.

He held her a little tighter, took another deep breath, and thought about an answer. 'How do I say everything to her? Am I capable... is it alright? She'll understand... right?' He was scared to use too many words with meanings he wasn't completely confident in. In a way he was almost fearful of the meanings – was he ready to know them? Was he ready to learn them? He sighed again, frustrated with himself. "I'm not good at this..." he murmured into her hair.

She held on to him tightly, hoping he'd feel safer with her there, safe enough to take chances in her embrace. "Try," she pushed, gently. "I'm not an ass, either."

He smiled a little, and felt her smiling into his chest. They held each other there for long moments, getting ready for their next baby step.

He reached to take hold of one of her hands, bringing it between them. He held it, then pressed it to his heart, willing her to understand.

He was quiet for a while… and then – "Can… can I… can I ask you something?"

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"You guys… we can't keep doing this, you know," Irvine mumbled, conspiratorily.

"Who's gonna find out? No one will ever know… and we're not hurting anybody!"

"Selph, I never pegged you as a troublemaker!" Zell laughed, flashing her a thumbs up.

"…How many times exactly have you guys done this?" Quistis questioned, half-way shocked.

"Every night this week. And the way things are going, it'll be every night following until a) we get bored, or b) we get caught!"

"Selph…" Quistis trailed off, her voice and face unreadable.

"…Yeah?" Selphie answered.

"What time tomorrow?"

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"Can I ask you something?" Squall dared in half a whisper, unsure if this was the right path to take.

Rinoa was silent for a moment, confused slightly by his tone and the tight grip he kept on her hand over his heart. She looked straight into his eyes and nodded to him slowly, wanting him to see the safety and trustworthiness in her. "Anything. Always."

And he knew it was strange. Hell, everything now was strange for him. So many questions without answers, so many problems he didn't quite know how to solve. It was different now than it ever used to be, because time forgot him, left him a year ago – silent, solitary, a soldier – then pushed, shoved, and forced him to skip so many of the intermediary steps. Now, time was asking him to know the right things. Make the right choices. Understand feelings, and friendship, and faith. Time made him a hero… a man.

But he needed to go back. He needed to grow up. Fearful and uncertain, he knows he needs to ask the questions. Find the answers. Find the words. And find out what he'd missed.

He locked eyes with her, searching, and clutched both her little hands between his. "Tell me… Tell me. What does this mean?" He looked down at their hands, and then back into her eyes. He knew he wasn't clear. But it was all he could give to her, here.

Never moving her gaze, she lifted her hands away from his, only to show him his own hands turned palm up, offering. She traced his lines gently, then willed her eyes to show him the depth of her answer.

"This is strength," she whispered, slowly, tightening her grip on him to emphasize her words. "These… are you."

He accepted her answer with his eyes. Then he moved again, gently replacing her hands between his, and with his gaze he signaled her for another definition, another concrete, another real.

"This… is a chance," she murmured, her face softening this time as she gave her answer.

He didn't acknowledge it this time, but only moved her hands again, slowly, placing both over the center of his chest, and laying his hands over hers. He needed another answer.

His beat was steady, strong, a little fast, a little skipping, and his eyes were on fire with a thousand emotions he didn't know the motions for – he only knew the beat of his heart and the strength in his hands. She looked into his eyes and felt the tears well in her own, though she was neither sad nor happy, not really. She was merely full, by Squall's heart beat flood.

"This… is a guarantee," she whispered against his chest.

After a moment, he moved to put his arms around her, rest his head on her shoulder and smell her hair, until the scent and presence of her could make him confident again. She left her hands over his heart and buried her face into his warmth. She could hear his heart pound now, and feel it pulse at her fingertips. And they stood there a while, finding time… finding tune. Stepping back, and inching forward.

to come: Squall starts stepping back, and Rinoa finds out she has a few steps to figure out on her own. The rest of the gang is up to no good… will their covert operation continue to be a success? And International Affairs heat up, with Garden at the center! All this and more, more, more, coming up… The Kiss; en garde is next!

a/n: Sorry it's a little bit shorter than usual – after writing out the closing Squall/Rinoa scene, I felt it would be counter-thematic to continue with the lighter side of the story. Whoo! Another chapter out – you didn't think I had it in me, did you? Haha! I'm sorry it has taken so long, but let this be proof that I am still writing this story. ) Review me, please! Until next time, love to all - elsie