The sky was dark, as there was no moon that night, but the hundreds of little candles, each held by a SeeD, cast a luminescent glow upon the grassy knoll. Flecked amongst the shadows, each mercenary was lost to his own private thoughts about life and death and what came after. This was the way SeeD paid their respect to those fallen. This was the only way they knew.

Nida was dead. Those three words had kept up a constant repetition inside of Quistis's head since the afternoon she'd received the news. Dead because he had been given an assignment per her request when he hadn't been ready for one after all. Her mind kept humming his death knell. And it hurt.

The flickering lights were beautiful, she thought, just as he had been. And sitting in the silence, she became aware that all was not silent after all. The crickets, the breeze, the rustling of leaves upon the trees, they all mourned alongside her.

One by one the candles burned out, and unspeaking, the others slipped away. But still she sat, even with her own flame extinguished, broken by the loneliness. And then she cried.

The tears seared her face with their heat-for the longest time they had refused to come at all-but as they began to flow, some of her sorrow began to drain away. Some, but not much.

After the call, she'd been dry-eyed when she'd slumped against Laguna, but also throughout the next day, insisting she was able to finish out her duty until the Ragnarok came to pick her up for the weekend. But later, when the horror, the reality and the guilt slammed her that Nida would not be there to take her home, in lieu of the tears begging to be shed, she'd only vomited amongst the clutching, steady hands of her friends.

But there in the darkness, lying face down and breathing in the scent of grass and dirt and life, the tears came, and they stayed for a very long time.

Hours later, she wiped them away before wandering over to a slender, silver fur. Leaning against it for support, she shivered and wrapped her arms about herself, not yet willing to go back inside to the glaring lights, or into the jocund atmosphere striving to mask the sadness, nor even to find comfort in the closeness of her friends. She wanted to be alone to think, this time putting up no barrier between her emotions and her mind.

If only she could regain some focus; it wasn't as if she'd never experienced the death of a fellow SeeD. But Nida had been special…he had loved her.

It was funny how she now realized it with the perfect, clear understanding brought upon by death. His love had been quiet and boyish, well content with the way things were between them as friends-never expecting anything but her friendship. If there had been one man in all of SeeD whom she could have possibly given herself to, it would have been him. Although the realistic side of her, the part that the tragedy of his short life had not yet touched, knew it never would have happened. She hadn't been ready to give herself to anyone.

But life was short, after all. Perhaps she needed to go out and experience all it had to offer. Obviously, she'd already begun to unbend the ramrod straightness of her existence, but there was so much she wanted to yet experience, and still could...as long as it didn't interfere with her job, of course.

For starters, as soon as her assignment with Laguna was ended she was going to take a very long break. Her vacation time had accrued many weeks and she wouldn't let Squall talk her into taking on another mission instead of using them ever again.

There were so many places she wanted to see...to truly see. So many things to learn. She wanted to be like Laguna, able to soak in his surroundings and be at peace.

But there were more trivial things she was determined to change as well. She was going to wear her hair down and also her contacts more often. People didn't take her as seriously when she did-only stared at her face-but she didn't care any longer. She knew who she was. Why should she give a damn if no one else did?

Whatever book she wanted to read, she'd read. And she would allow herself to have fantasies, and dream and dream and dream. Even if she dreamt about a future that could never come to exist. Even if her dreams stung with their impossibilities.

She would smile and laugh and even tease. And yes, if she wanted, she would flirt. And dance. And skip when she walked. She grimaced. Maybe that would be a little too crazy, but no-she shook her head, gritting her teeth-she was going to skip into Garden right now.

So she did, realizing she appeared to be raving stark mad. Squall and Rinoa were standing near the gate waiting for her-had most likely been waiting for hours-but she skipped right past them not wanting to come face to face with Squall's accusing eyes. Flying by, all she saw was his shock, and it gratified her in some odd, soothing way.

Once inside the Lobby, however, when the humming fountains and the mindless chatter of her colleagues collided with the silence that had previously embraced her, she realized she wasn't yet ready to face the realities of her life. Even in that large, expansive room, the walls seemed to be pressing in.

So she headed to the Garage. Asking an attendant for the keys to one of the trucks, she hopped inside, backed it out and then madly tore down the road to Balamb Town, cranking up the music without even knowing, or caring, what it was. The windows were down, and the wind tossed and twirled the length of her hair, and for the first time ever, she didn't give a wit.

She realized that she liked to drive and that she liked to drive fast on that lonely stretch of road. But she found herself slowing the truck to a crawl when she saw the sea sweep into her vision and then parked it in front of the beach. Slipping out of the vehicle, she slowly made her way onto the sand.

The beach was empty and lonely, a perfect comrade for her present mood, but it was also dark and the waves eerie in their power. They seemed to cajole her to step into the water and wade out into its depths. The adrenaline drained out of her and she stilled, wondering what would happen if she obeyed their call. Death would be all around her, but...but it was life she longed to taste. Stepping back, she refused to let even the faintest lick of the sea lap about her feet.

There would be no cleansing of the waters for her. If not for her interference, Nida would still be alive.

Suddenly, she felt old and she ached all over, so she sat, lying back upon the sand to gaze up at the stars shrouded by the clouds. At least they would continue to shine on, night after night, year after year. But not so her friend.

She spent the time out there crying and reflecting and remembering until the parts of her past melded into dreams of her future. And she knew, she just knew, that her future was bleak. She would change it as much as she could, but ultimately, fate would have its way with her, and as always, fate would laugh. But for the moment, all she could do, all she wanted to do, was live.

When she entered Garden much later, it was well beyond curfew, so she crept quietly to her dorm. But as she turned down the dimly lit hall leading to her room, a cry split the silence and a shadowy figure flung itself into her arms. Rinoa was smothering her in a fierce embrace.

"I was so worried about you Quisty. I'd thought perhaps you'd... but I knew you could never...but then when you flew past us...And later when we found you'd taken a car..."

In her evident relief and elation, Rinoa wasn't making much sense, but Quistis had an idea of what she was trying to say and was chagrined to have stirred up such worry in her friend.

"Rinoa, I'm fine. I promise. I just went for a drive."

Rinoa's eyes grew teary, but she nodded. "I'd just never seen such a look on your face. You were like a totally different Quistis. Even Squall was concerned."

"Right," she replied dryly.

Rinoa shook her head. "Actually, he was. He and Zell are out looking for you now. I need to call them and let them know you're safe."

Evidently her rash exit had caused quite a disturbance, but it was a worthwhile lesson on the eve of her learning to let go. Perhaps she would reign in her new impulses just a little. There was a fine line between fulfilling one's desires and living selfishly and she didn't wish to tread upon her friend's emotions and concerns.

"Tell them I'm sorry. I really wasn't thinking."

Rinoa smiled. "They'll just be glad to know you're okay. Especially Squall." She grew somber. "His concern for you goes beyond your leaving tonight. He wanted to speak to you about Nida."

"Rinoa, he and I can't talk of it yet. You cannot know the guilt I feel."

Rinoa's warm, brown eyes softened. "I have an idea as I'm helping Squall to carry his. Quistis, obviously he can't give you the particulars, but the mission was supposed to have been quick, easy and safe. What happened was beyond the scope of possibility, but it happened nonetheless. Squall couldn't have foreseen it and neither could you when you asked that Nida be given a chance."

Quistis nodded, trying with all of her heart to believe what her friend said, but realized it would take many days, weeks, or even years before the guilt abated. And she knew that Rinoa realized this as well. She was hugging her again, rubbing her hands up and down her back.

"Go get some rest," she said. "I'll wait up for the guys. You're back to Esthar tomorrow and we need you fresh and alert. And me? I'm here all the time with not much to do." She laughed softly and pushed Quistis through her door. Quistis turned to contemplate her friend, finding strangeness in her words and for a moment wondered if all was not perfect in Rinoa's world either. But the look on her face told her it was.

"Thank you," she finally whispered and went in to bed.

Laguna was worried about her. She could sense it in every glance he passed her way, in everything he said, but mostly in the things he left unspoken and by Monday afternoon, she was tired of being treated like a porcelain doll.

"Laguna, I'm fine." She was lying of course, but only she needed to know that. Besides, she was quickly on her way to becoming fine, and the last thing she wanted was for someone to remind her of what had passed. She needed to move on.

"You may think you are, but I disagree."

She cocked her head in frustration, holding his gaze for several seconds. He colored.

"I know you're wondering who I think I am by disagreeing with you. But I don't know, you just look different. Sad, but also sort of brittle."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you've always been a little hard, but now you seem to be flaking off." He bit his lip. "Um, sorry. That was probably rude."

She snorted. "As a matter of fact, I feel that Nida's death has freed me. If anything I'm softer now, willing to be a little more pliable. I plan on trying to enjoy life a little more instead of always worrying over duty."

"That's good, of course. But relax and be natural in it. Don't grab at life like a bull does his horns, or whatever. You know what I mean."

"I'm not sure that I do."

"I can just see it in your eyes. You look wild and unsettled. And driven."

"I-"

He shook his head. "Just take a deep breath. Watch me." He inhaled and exhaled slowly, motioning for her to do the same. When she declined and instead gave him her sourest of looks, he laughed. "Breathing is imperative to life, Quistis. Just remember that."

"Right."

He chuckled, balled up a piece of paper and sent it hurtling through the room towards her head. It missed its mark and landed at her feet. She glowered at him, but he smiled his sweetest smile.

"I like your new do."

"What?"

"Your hair. It looks nice."

Glory then knocked on his door to inform him that his two o'clock appointment had arrived. While Quistis stood to take her place at Laguna's back, he drummed briefly on his desk, trying to remember with whom he was supposed to meet.

"Arya Bellinni." His secretary was quick to remind him.

He groaned. "Oh yeah. I forgot. Send her in, please."

"Who is she?" Quistis asked before his guest arrived.

"Only the most beautiful woman in all the land, who knows it and uses it to gain herself whatever she wants. And Quistis...I just don't wish to lose."

"She sounds fascinating," she replied dryly, but was curious in what he meant. He had the tendency to be a little vague at times, but there was obviously no time to ask.

He shuddered. "Just watch my back."

"Of course."

Arya Bellinni was sensual. Never had Quistis seen the meaning of the word so defined in living, breathing flesh and blood. And in Laguna, she saw a man's response.

When Glory ushered her in, the room was suddenly enveloped in a cloud of scent-soft, lovely, bringing to mind an endless field of flowers. And Arya danced, yet she only walked, over to Laguna's desk where he stood looking bemused and a little scared.

Her beautiful red mouth parted open into a smile and she daintily held out her hand for his grasp, tilting her head ever so slightly as to allow the dark wave of curls to cascade over her breast.

"Mr. President, it's so kind of you to see me," she said, her voice not too low, nor too high, but a perfect, lilting pitch-a mixture of shyness, yet confidence; sweet, but earthy.

She allowed her hand to linger in his longer than he seemed comfortable with, yet he held it tightly and looked at it helplessly as if he didn't quite know what to do until she withdrew.

"May I sit?" she asked.

"Yes. Um, of course. Please sit." He hurriedly pulled out a chair, wincing as its leg got caught up in the leg of another. With furrowed brow, he battled the entanglement. "Do, um, sit. I mean, please sit," he said, as soon as he'd won.

He then rushed into his own chair and from above and behind him, Quistis glimpsed him rubbing his leg. Typical Laguna, she thought. Then she realized he had forgotten to introduce her as his bodyguard which was definitely atypical. Certainly Arya paid her no mind.

"Thank you," she sweetly replied, pulling a piece of paper out of a scarlet silk purse, the perfect shade to match her dress. Pausing for a moment, she made a show of studying several lines written upon it before raising her face to look into his, her fingers absently caressing the stationary, brushing light circular strokes over her embossed initials. Laguna stared at her hand and several times cleared his throat.

A small smile tweaked the corners of her mouth and Quistis was certain the woman knew what she was about, was a master in giving every movement a subtle purpose. With nothing else to do, Quistis decided to use the time to learn a valuable lesson in feminine wiles. She might never have such an instructor again.

"I came by to briefly fill you in on some last minute details. The children are quite excited that you've agreed to host this event with me. They love you so."

Laguna nodded. "They're great kids. Um, when is the dinner?"

A silvery, tinkling laugh escaped her throat. "This Thursday." She looked at him archly. "You won't forget, will you? I'd hoped that you cared enough about the children to remember, even without the help of your assistants, but I see I'd hoped in vain. And of course my presence would hardly be of any thought..." Her dimples smiled coquettishly.

But he did not return it and Quistis suddenly realized that he had not smiled once. It was so unlike him, but she figured he was too lost in her appeal to act much like himself. He was speaking. "I'm not the best at remembering stuff like that, no matter how much the cause means to me. But I, and the orphanage, am grateful for your help. We couldn't have hoped for a better friend. There's no worries that I won't show. I will, trust me."

"Of course." For several minutes more, Arya spoke of the event, and in her fervor, exaggerated or not, leaned forward, allowing the desk to softly push up her breasts. Only the barest trace of curvature was presented, but it offered a tantalizing glimpse as to what lay underneath the softness of silk that was her dress. Quistis could see a small patch of sweat dampening Laguna's back. The poor president was having a rough time with this meeting.

When their meeting was finished, Laguna stood and walked Arya over to the door. "I'll see you Thursday evening," he said politely.

"Lovely. I look forward to it. Come early?" she said, placing her hand over his chest for a brief moment. He nodded and ushered her out.

Once she departed, the office seemed to drain of all color.

"So that was Arya Bellinni?"

"Yes, he replied absently.

"Are you wishing to go after her?" Quistis asked, raising a brow. He was still standing at the door as if something appeared to be bothering him.

He shuddered. "No. If anything, when she's around I wish to run away."

"I find that hard to believe. She's beautiful and clearly wants you. For what more could a man ask?"

He finally turned and looked at her and his smile was faint, but it was back. "Much, much more."

"But you can't deny that you find her incredibly attractive."

"No, I can't." He looked away, but she was glad, as a burning began to brand the inside of her chest and she was sure the pinched look on her face would be taken for jealousy. Not that it was, of course.

"I don't really want to talk about her, okay?" he was saying to the air.

Neither, really, did she. Yet at the same time she wished to speak of nothing else.

"Will you talk of the orphans?"

This time his smile was filled with its usual brightness. "Of course. They're great kids. Several years ago, the Hope Orphanage was founded, and I like to get over there and hang out whenever I can. The orphanage is not lacking in funds; this event is to remind others that they're there and to hopefully encourage adoption. The kids are preparing a little show." His eyes crinkled when they laughed. "They're so cute. We've never done anything like this before, but felt we needed to try something as adoption rates are low."

"So you're a president who concerns himself with orphans," she stated with a smile.

"Well, after Ellone...and Squall." He shook his head. "I'm grateful to Edea for providing a home...for taking care of them. And I love children. They make me feel young."

"Which you are."

"Only at heart," he grinned.

She shook her head with a sigh. "No, you're young and I'm old, Laguna. Very, very old."

His smile this time was gentle. "Quistis, that statement screams your youth more than anything you've ever said."

He knew nothing about it. But still, she quickly changed the subject.

"And Arya? She loves orphans too?"

He shrugged. "Somehow she took over the event. She's very good at such things-comes from one of Esthar's oldest, richest and most respected families. She has a kind heart and I'm sure she wants to help the children as badly as I. It's just that..." His voice trailed away and he sighed. "I can't really talk about it."

She nodded and watched him return to his desk. He wasn't languishing for the woman, that much was certain, but there was obviously something going on. Quistis wondered what it was and why the thought of Arya in his arms was incredibly distasteful.

But then, perhaps it was time she also grew honest with herself. Laguna was much older than her but every time she looked at him, she couldn't help but think that he was the most physically appealing man she had ever rested-or feasted-her eyes upon.

"You were with Edea too?" he was asking her and it took her a moment to remember of what they had been talking of.

She nodded. "And with Squall and Ellone."

"And then you went to Balamb?"

"I think so, although my memories are quite hazy. I don't remember much between then and my preteen years." She lightly tapped her skull. "The Guardian Forces, you know?"

It was his turn to nod. "Will you tell me a little of what you do remember?" he asked like a man thirsty for a drink. So she sat on the couch and told him story after story of her earlier days growing up by the sea. She was able to make him laugh through her tales of the Orphanage Gang, but when she wrapped them up with Ellone's leaving and Squall's sudden introversion, he sighed.

"There's so much that I regret, Quistis. Although I tell myself I was powerless to do any differently."

There wasn't much that she could say to ease his mind. Years before, she'd witnessed flashbacks of his history in the dream world, so she knew how much life had run over him. That he'd remained such a positive, warmhearted person was surprising, especially when contrasted to the way his son dealt with things. Of course Rinoa had been able to awaken some level of feeling in Squall-he was much easier to bear now that she was in his life-but he still kept much of himself apart from others, was still often cold. Laguna had experienced loss more than Squall ever had, but lived so beautifully and so much in service to others...of which his pouring love into a group of children not his own was just the tiniest of examples.

While she had been speaking, he'd wandered over to the window and was looking out of it. He wasn't looking up at the clouds as usual, nor down upon the city. Instead, his gaze was fixed forward and he seemed to be staring out across the plains, possibly even beyond to the ocean. What was it that he saw? she wondered. Was it the timeline of his regrets and failures, wishing they could be erased?

When she realized there was nothing more for her to say, but that still something could be done, she stood and tiptoed over to his side. The minute her shoulder brushed his, he looked down at her, startled that she was standing so close. Except for the time he had reached out to touch her hair, all physical contact between them had been nonexistent. She was not a woman taken to touching, but for whatever reason, she longed to touch him.

"You couldn't have known how it would turn out. It's not your fault. Just like it wasn't my fault that Nida died, right? How could I have known..."

Hugging Laguna was not like hugging Selphie, Rinoa or Xu. He smelled different, was harder, his arms around her more tentative. How she found herself there, she really didn't know, but it seemed like it wasn't only she who had placed them in that position. He too had sought the closeness.

"It wasn't your fault, Quistis. And I know it wasn't mine either. I can remember that most of the time, but still the hurt is there-and the doubt that comes every so often. Just try to send it on its way."

They stood, locked together for what seemed like forever and while she felt content, there were stirrings within her she knew she wanted to face. Was ready to face. Thoughts of Nida's death made her cling more fiercely to life. And there was no one who embodied life like Laguna Loire.

Her head was resting against his chest and she could hear the quick pulse of his heart beating, delighting in how it accelerated its tempo when he dared to tighten his arms around her. She swallowed. Asking him would be no easy thing, but if ever there was a perfect moment, it would be now.

"Laguna?" she asked and was amazed at the deepening color of his eyes when she said his name. Perhaps this would be easy. While he had wanted Arya Bellinni, she saw that he wanted her as well.

"Yes?"

"Will you sleep with me?"

Shocked, he took a step back. "What?"

A/N For whatever reason this was the hardest chapter to write…and I'm several in already. Ugh. If it sucks, I'm terribly sorry, but it's been plaguing me now for months (It take a very long before I'm satisfied with anything I post) and I just wanted to get it up on here and move on.

But thanks to everyone who has read my story so far…and especially to those who've reviewed. I appreciate it from the bottomestness of my heart! And it's always nice to hear when people actually like this favorite pairing of mine. I think I'm a little in love with Laguna myself. Totally weird, I know.

Hope you enjoyed!