Early Graves

by AntiCensor

A mysterious golden light is making people and objects vanish without a trace. The two young mercenaries Grave and Joselyn take center stage against a new sorceress threat. POV characters include three OC's, Quistis, Squall, Fujin. NOT GARYSTU. Three Lemons, Three Love scenes.

6. Before The Mission

Disclaimer and A/N: I don't own it. This chapter is dedicated to Juusan Ikkiuchi because she inspired part of this chapter. On an unrelated note, for those of you who like String Quartets you should check out it has String Tributes to popular artists. Even if you don't like the band you'll probably like the tribute.

UltimateSoceress: Sorry that I'm confuzzling you, do you think you could elaborate on what is confuzzling exactly? That aside I'm glad that you started reading this, I'm always happy to have new reviewers. I'm especially glad that you like the violence and sarcasm because this story will be heavy with that sort of thing.

Juusan Ikkiuchi: Happy to see your reviews as usual. I really hope that you like this chapter, the beginning in particular.

Ghost140: Yay! I'm glad that I've attracted your attention. And lo and behold I'm on your favorites list, sweetness.

Jasmine 32: I have another new reviewer! Score! You used the word compelling to describe my prose mmm, ahhh. You have a hell of a lot of favorites Jasmine, Christ. But I'm glad to be one of them. I'm glad that you like the original characters since this story would be like, over by now if not for them.

Wyvern Ryder: Another new reviewer! You did only give me one review for five chapters but I suppose that is just your way. I accept that. I hope you become an avid reader.

Well I know the words but I can't really speak them to you, and I hide all the pain that I've gained with my wisdom from you.

And I'm eaten alive by what I hold inside, all the things that I live with I can't easily hide.

And I'm left here with nothing, nothing to live for but you.

It's not easy to hide all this damage inside; I'll carry you with me 'til I'm not alive.

When you look at my face does it seem just as ugly to you? I can't seem to erase all the scars that I've lived with from you.

I'm so sick of this place, this taste in my mouth, 'cause of you I can't figure out what I'm all about. And I'm left here with nothing, nothing to live for but you.

And I'm eaten alive by what I hold inside, all the things that I live with I can't easily hide.

And I'm left here with nothing, nothing to live for but you.

Excess Baggage by Staind, don't own it.

Part Six: The Mission Begins

Juusan Park

It really is fascinating how inefficient the average wooing plan of the average –or in this case not so average- teenagers mind works. You might think to yourself, 'You know, I should ask this guy I like to romantically lie against this tree in the park with me when nobody else is around, that sounds damn spanky.' But what you won't think –or perhaps will think of once it's too late- will be 'Fuck, I didn't ask him if he wanted to do anything by the tree, now he's going to think that I'm a tramp.'

Joselyn just so happened to be curled up in the cannonball position, sitting against a large tree root the equivalent of a short bench, thinking just those words, her boots and sword lying around her haphazardly. Normally though she would not worry about being considered a tramp. The opinions of others concerning her sexuality meant nothing to her. But Graves opinion –or better yet his curiosity or even his interest- mattered to her very much.

Her fears were of course absolutely frivolous. When she asked him to do this that was all she did. She asked him and he agreed, he looked at her expectantly like he didn't think that was all she could want, and then the subject was dropped shortly thereafter. She had made no implication of romance or fucking, and therefore that was not what he thought she meant he had thought.

Surely it had occurred to him a couple of times or more. It had to, and not just because he was a teenage boy rooming with a teenage girl. She had seen him looking at her when he thought she was focused on something else. She didn't miss the way his hands almost grasped her body those times when he had smelled her to relieve himself of his… unique condition.

And she would be pleased to know that it had occurred to him. But as much as he hoped for her to want that of him he would not even try unless if she made it abundantly and startlingly clear that she was attracted to him. She thought she would if it came to that. If he remained oblivious of her flirting long enough she might have to do something drastic. But she didn't want to do that unless if it was the only option. Simply showing him her tits the next time she saw him didn't strike her as wise.

It was at that time she was faintly reminded of words that might have come from her mother, the parent that she might have grown up with before she went to Garden. 'Never stay with the man who harms you girl, and more than that, make sure never to start anything with the boy who hurts you from the beginning.'

Joselyn chuckled thinking about how defiant she was being of that rule. Because not only had Grave left a deep wound, scarring her, he had scared her too.

In fact Grave had scared her a million time's more than he had hurt her. Now that she thought of it, he hadn't hurt her intentionally since the day almost a month ago when they fought in the Training Center.

What's the harm in wanting someone who's only hurt you once? And who has lived with you for a month and done nothing to harm you after getting to know you for that matter? Perhaps mothers didn't always think their advice through. It did sound quite a bit spiteful when she thought about it, when she thought about the tone that she imagined it being spoken with.

Joselyn decided she was thinking too much of frivolous parental advice. Joselyn decided to catch her attention to something else. Grave would be there soon and she didn't want him to catch her fretting over her own little mistakes concerning him.

Joselyn stretched her entire body like an enormous cat and leaned more lazily against the tree. She hoped the tension and worry in her muscles might evaporate if she relaxed, as if she had been holding it in with her former position. Of course it didn't work; really the tension and worry didn't so much leave her as it dripped from muscles and her brain, migrating into her stomach.

Joselyn made a face. Wasn't relaxation supposed to be relaxing? She had meant for this to be pleasant, but one little mistake on her part just had to weigh so heavily on her mind. Hopefully Grave wasn't thinking the same way she was about this. Hopefully he could show up soon and just make her feel better; maybe he could just quell her worry with his obliviousness.

That was a mean thing to think she thought, but she had to admit it was true. Concerning matters of her feelings for him, Grave seemed to be about as aware as a deaf crone unknowingly wandering into a metal concert.

That was an even meaner thought, but she stopped herself there. She was on the verge of ending up in an infinite self scorning loop she noticed, so it was best to stop early.

For the next several minutes Joselyn fiddled with her belt buckle. She, Cody and Grave had all purchased belts together shortly after their graduation at the Gardens clothing store. Why the Garden had a place to buy cool clothes was completely beyond her at first. But after a bit of thought it made some sense. After a short discussion –that Grave was for some reason very inclined to end quickly- the trio decided that it was only a way to bring some of civilization to the Garden.

Selecting a clothing store of all things made a certain amount of sense considering that primarily the population of Garden was of teenagers and young adults. Although the store was small and unsatisfactory but it was better than nothing –not that Joselyn was an indulgent clothes shopper like some of her stereotypical counterparts.

Although the store was kind of stupid, the belts were really cool. The actual strap parts of the belts weren't particularly special but the buckles were shaped like Trabian Characters each of the three meaning something different. Interestingly, they didn't actually find out what the characters stood for until after they had bought them and looked them up on the internet, and the meaning of the symbols for the three individuals corresponded suspiciously well with their wearers.

Joselyn's buckle read 'Spirit.' Cody and Grave had of course said immediately that it was perfect, and she of course responded with an equal amount of modesty, although she quietly agreed with them for sake of her pride. She supposed that she did have a definitive spirit but the arrogance to admit that with her voice was beyond her. But nonetheless the arrogance to actually believe it wasn't, so perhaps that made up for it.

After looking up Joselyn's they looked for Cody's which read 'Earth.' Yet again they found themselves pleased by the appropriateness of the symbol. Cody was indeed a very down to earth character. And of course when the other two teenagers wanted his input he put in his two cents worth of modesty but agreed more openly than Joselyn had that he was pleased with his new decoration.

The feeling of something smooth and cold on Joselyn's neck made her jump nearly to her feet. She stumbled trying to regain her footing but ended up landing ass first on the roots of the try again. As Grave laughed as friends do when they play pranks on other friends Joselyn adjusted herself on the roots of the tree and made a bitter face to him.

She almost softened her face upon seeing him but with the willpower that could only come from such a proud spirit she kept her forehead stiff. Grave was smiling for her, and although he had just laughed at her expense it was a friendly smile, the look of a dead man wearing a happy boy's face.

Graves belt buckle read 'Death.' When they had been looking up the meanings of their characters, and when they came across Graves nobody said anything. Cody and Joselyn looked at each other quietly and Grave only stared at the screen. But they had agreed silently but nonetheless agreed that his symbol was as fitting for him as the other symbols for his friends were respectably.

After a few minutes of a friendly staring contest Joselyn allowed her features to set themselves in their more attractive setting. Joselyn lowered her gaze –not too low- and noted that he was holding a book. His arm was covering the title but she recognized the color of the cover. He had brought the libraries copy of the Limerick.

Joselyn smiled, he brought a book, he played a friendly joke and now he was smiling for her. It seemed that he had pulled through for her. She smiled more softly now which got a confused reaction for Grave but he seemed to dismiss it without speaking about it. Grave gestured to the book.

"You didn't say what you wanted to do so I just brought this," he paused, thought for a moment, and then looked to her questioningly, "unless if you're bored with it now, I can always return it." Another example of his thoughtfulness.

"No it's alright," she replied assuredly then patted on the ground beside her. "Take off your shoes, stay awhile," she said and smiled.

Grave set the book down and began unbuckling his boots. Joselyn watched while he wasn't watching her, letting herself give him a look of interest she avoided when he had his eyes locked with hers. Grave threw his boots on the grass and Joselyn wiggled her toes to distract herself with the unique sensation until he plopped down beside her and mimicked her toe wiggling.

The silliness was entertaining but it ended quickly so Grave picked the book up and opened it to a random page. While he spoke Joselyn undid her braids and began tying thinner ones on the left side of her face. Before he began reading Grave looked up from the book in thought, and then spoke.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" he asked incredulously, and only looked more incredulous when she looked at him worriedly, luckily for her she thought of her excuse quickly.

"I just wanted to spend some time with you," she answered vaguely, a bit too vaguely for Grave it seemed, because he furrowed his brows a bit more.

"But we live together, we spend time together all the time," he pointed out, and at that point Joselyn was starting to resent Grave for looking into this so deeply.

"Well then I wanted to spend some time with you here!'" she said and gestured around them at the park.

And that was actually a very good excuse. Over the years of the Garden being a building harboring children taught to think and question, there had always been this one little question that nagged at certain students. What was in the spaces between the different areas?

Those students who put thought into this all agreed that simply filling it with concrete –or whatever it was the Gardens were made of- because that would not only be a waste of space, but a waste of material as well. There had to be something there, be it spare resources like rations or weapons. Or perhaps there was an evil Guardian Force being kept in the unseen areas, held in a locked box or a coffin or a chastity belt or something.

In actuality there was nothing there. But the rumors spread quickly and once they reached Cid and were passed on to Squall the plans to create new areas in the Garden was made. The work had been long and tedious and it was nearly impossible to keep such construction jobs a secret, it was very amazing the students hadn't actually confirmed that it had happened at all until the unveiling.

Juusan Park was a very good example. It was located in between the Library and the Training Center. Although small as parks went, it was still a very pleasant place. The ceiling was a skylight and the terra forming had been performed by none other than the Shumi Tribe. It was indeed a proud accomplishment for Garden and of course those with pets didn't have to take complaints for their pets disposing of waste in inappropriate areas. Lots, and lots, of bushes.

Her excuse was perfect really, no matter how skeptical Grave wanted to be about it. It was true that they spent a lot of time together –especially lately- but Juusan Park was a good place. It was much more pleasant than any other area of the Garden, except perhaps the pool ring in the atrium but it was too much trouble to get in and out of that thing. And of course the lecturing one would get for that wouldn't make it worth it.

Grave continued to give her the suspicious look but she had essentially driven him into a corner. But then he shrugged and pretended to look indifferent and looked to the hard cover in his hands.

"You're a strange girl Joselyn," he declared and skimmed over the pages for an interesting poem to speak aloud, and Joselyn smiled at him.

"Oh you love it," she said matter-of-factly, and she smiled more when he smiled back.

"There was a young girl of Madrid

Who thought she'd be having a kid.

So by holding the water

Three months and a quarter

She drowned the poor bastard she did," Joselyn's mouth gaped open the way mouths gape when they don't know whether to laugh or protest like an over zealous Hyne fanatic, Grave however just giggled a lot and grinned longer.

"That is awful!" she exclaimed in good humor.

"But it's funny!" he said happily.

"Well yeah it's funny too but it's still awful."

EG

They were sitting beside one another, together and alone in a park, they were shoulder to shoulder and Joselyn's hair was mostly spilled over her shoulders. They were giggling over the same things and reading poetry to each other and enjoying one another body heat whether they were calling attention to that or not. It was quite the romantic scene he thought, it was quintessential and everything.

This was how Cody found them.

He had just left Bridgett's room after a very active night and was on his way to retrieve a poetry book from the library himself. But something had told him to check out the new park and by his 'ever reliable' luck he found his two best friends together, surprisingly the only people there.

Actually it wasn't that surprising. Few people were up at this hour and those two were known –or he knew anyway- that they liked to plan their activities for times when they wouldn't encounter other people. Originally it was because Grave just didn't want to run into anybody else. But now it looked like they were doing this out of more than habit rather than respect for Grave.

Cody was leaning against a weeping willow and expecting they wouldn't see him. He would talk to them in a moment but he wanted to take in the sweet scene in front of him first. They were pretty cute together he thought.

It was Cody's conviction that Grave and Joselyn were like a couple that didn't fuck.

If one really considered it, it was all there. First of all they lived together and peacefully at that. Although they hadn't known each other for a very long time they enjoyed one another's company and were together more often than not. Lastly, they did things like this. Nobody just sits around and reads poetry with friends without being interested in them romantically.

Perhaps there were people who could do that with friends without wanting them that way, but if he knew Grave and Joselyn –and of course he did- then he could say that neither of them would do this with just anyone. In fact they scarcely did it with him.

Cody gave them a few more minutes without his interruption before he approached them. Predictably both people noticed him until he stood directly in front of them and after they had finished a fit of giggles and debate over how balanced the humor and tragedy in one particular poem was. They even looked up to him together, Joselyn wiping one tear from her eye that Cody didn't notice.

"Hey blondie," Joselyn said using her current mood of very good humor while she had it.

Grave said nothing but he smiled at Cody to recognize that he was there. Looking at them together then, he remembered something he was told to tell them, perhaps that was why he had received the feeling that he should have gone to the new park.

"So did you two hear the news?" he asked knowing for a fact that they hadn't.

They furrowed their brows with their smiles like he knew they would but gave no evidence that they were wary of what he would say.

"We're going to go on our first mission today."

When he said that they looked over excited for a pair that would soon be killing people and possibly collecting secret information for money, but then again neither one was experienced enough in those fields to understand that. All they knew was that they were finally doing what they had been training for after varying year's time. They thought their time to shine had finally come.

Instead the trio smiled and cheered only for themselves and let themselves be happy that they would finally get to do what they had been waiting and training for. There would be plenty of time to understand that their true time to shine would come later.

After the back patting and other such behavior ended Grave took his opportunity to speak up.

"So what are we doing?" he asked quickly so as to get that question out of the way before he could be cut off.

"We are to protect this rich chick in Deling city. Her name is Cornucopia Ostentat," as he said the name he used a tone that said 'can you believe this?' and enunciated each syllable with piercing precision and sloth.

Grave and Joselyn each made their own 'why in the world would somebody name their child that?' faces respectively and tried to keep their minds off of how slothfulness could be piercing. Cody continued to report for them.

"There are some Military renegades after her and we're supposed to protect her from them, and capture or exterminate her threats," he finished more respectfully, and he remained with that demeanor even when his comrades didn't do the same.

"Do we know anything about our enemy?" Joselyn asked intelligently but having a hard time segueing into a serious mood, and Grave looked like he was feeling the same.

"Only that they have military training, they couldn't give us any defining details about them," disappointing, but not hopeless.

"When are we leaving?" asked Grave.

"This afternoon, we're leaving by Whelp and we're expected at the Ostentat Mansion this evening." Cody paused and looked at Grave with more seriousness. "And there's something in my room for you," he pointed to Grave, "that we need to deal with before we leave." Grave raised an eyebrow, and then he furrowed both brows when Cody began to look hesitant to speak.

"Can I just meet you guys in your room later?" he asked suspiciously –to Grave more than Joselyn but Joselyn was nonetheless suspicious.

The pair nodded and smiled almost with fakeness when their friend smiled and left them alone again. After Cody was gone the pair sat down in their same spots. Instead of reading more erotic limericks they just rested against the tree and watched how still the leaves were without wind.

Perhaps there would be some air current installed at some point? They thought. That would be good for including a bit more realism to this indoor park of theirs. Grave was going to continue his end of the synchronized reverie but Joselyn interrupted him.

"What do you think he was talking about?" Joselyn asked and with good reason.

"I'm not sure, he's never like that is he?" he asked deeply, metaphorically massaging Joselyn's brain for her to add another pair of her cents.

"Yeah, he usually just says what's on his mind but he was really hesitant just now," it was interesting Grave thought, how they were sounding more like they were examining the situation than they were worrying about it.

Was this a good thing?

Yeah, he concluded mostly out of laziness, it probably is.

"We'll find out soon in any event," he said with a touch more of upbeat finality and he closed his eyes, he wiggled his toes.

Cover The Boy Up

I don't know how to feel about this. I can't help but feel insulted but at the same time there's a part of me that's relieved. When Joselyn and I met Cody in our room like we agreed he presented to us what looked like a cell phone at a first glance. That moment I think was very awkward because Cody said nothing, and we said nothing, so nothing was what followed for quite some time.

After a moment Cody sighed and opened the object up revealing two brushes, a small pallet of beige make up, a pink pallet of lip paint, and another rectangular section which was lidded. The brush and the make up was obvious enough to me, I figured it out immediately. Joselyn however didn't quite get it, in fact she took it the wrong way entirely.

She said very sternly actually 'I don't wear make up.' I almost laughed but I kept my mouth shut and Cody told her the stuff wasn't for her.

Cody then explained to us –more to me actually—that an order was made to make me wear this stuff on public missions from now on. My complexion might make people feel uneasy he explained, as it had been explained to him, so I should wear this to make myself blend in.

Joselyn actually protested which was flattering and confusing at the same time. But I managed to calm her down by saying that I thought it was a good call to order this stuff for me. She calmed down although reluctantly and even turned out to be the one to apply the stuff to me.

And now I sit in our spacious SeeD apartment, on the couch with Joselyn kneeling in front of me and painting my face with the strange substance. I say that it's strange because the make up isn't normal. It is designed only by Garden I think.

Once applied the make up becomes more like a latex substance. It looks the same and very easily passes as flesh to one who is only looking at it. It's basically like an extra layer of skin that can be peeled off.

It reminds me of rubber cement. That adhesive that was useless for anything other than the entertainment of applying it to your skin just so you could peel it off. Except rubber cement does nothing to make the skin look more alive.

Joselyn is very, very close right now. The time we took to arrange ourselves for this was probably funny to Cody. At first I was sitting deep into the couch and my legs were crossed, this seemed to me to be a position as good as any other. Joselyn apparently didn't see it that way. She grabbed my crossed leg by the foot and pulled me forward sliding my ass to the edge of the seat.

Now, if not for Joselyn's flat stomach –now pressed firmly against my crotch- is the only thing keeping my ass from sliding off of the couch. Her breasts are almost brushing against my chest, and her face is about neck level on me while she brushes my cheeks. She has her other hand on my shoulder, I think that she's trying to steady me but if she's not then I suppose that she only needed a place to put her free hand.

I could think of a couple of other places where she could put it but I don't think that would go over so well, near her stomach would be at the top of the list I think.

My eyes are closed of course. And I don't need to see it to sense how aggravated she is by that. I think that she's been delaying applying the make up to my eyelids for a reason. What bothers me is that she refuses to give up. She knows that I don't like it when people look at me at all, and she's going to great lengths to examine these two tiny details on me. She's a very tenacious girl Joselyn; I really wish she'd be less tenacious about me.

Or maybe I don't, or I do… Hyne damn it, are all women this confusing? I think I'll ask Cody about that sometime, he'd be the one to know after all.

Joselyn adjusts herself and starts brushing at a different angle. I really hope that she didn't notice that her movements made my loins stir. Her facial expression is still focused and distracted so I'm guessing that she's too interested in what she's doing to notice. I sigh inwardly thinking that an outward one would raise the question that I don't want to answer.

It occurs to me that I've never seen Joselyn wear makeup before, and now I wonder how she knows how to apply it so well.

EG

"Joselyn?" Grave asked very quietly showing her how worried he was that she might get angry if he made her slip up.

"Yes?" she asked with all the interest in his words that her eyes were ignoring, she was too focused to smile for him.

"How do you know how to do this?" Joselyn thought for a moment then paused her brushing motions.

"How do I know how to do what?" when she said this Grave inwardly sighed once more.

"How do you know how to put on make up?" he asked sounding more impatient than was necessary.

Although Joselyn was a touch irritated with his tone of voice she suppressed it just like she had her smile. "Well my friends in Trabia liked to do all of the plays and there had to be people to apply the make up. And I was one of those people," she answered simply and then continued to brush him, she moved from his other cheek now complete and started with his chin.

Grave wanted to speak again but he thought if he spoke she'd screw up and get some of it on his teeth or something. So he waited until his chin and his jaw was finished, after she had somehow brushed his ears adequately and got to work on his forehead. She seemed to have trouble at that point because his hair kept falling back into place and she wanted to keep the stuff out of his hair.

After his face was thoroughly covered by the make up Grave chose to speak up but Joselyn tried to speak at the same time, they went through the predictable short feud where both tried to be polite for the other by offering one another to speak first. In the end Grave was triumphant and so he spoke.

"I was just going to say that I've never seen you wear it," he said a bit awkwardly, thinking it was a bit embarrassing they had the equivalent of an argument just so he could say that first.

"Oh," she said then seemed to think for a moment but then disregard her thought then she brought her attention back to her aroused roommate.

"Well I need you to take off your shirt," she said simply, Grave looked very unsure and Joselyn elevated her brows as if to ask what on Gaia was wrong with that.

"I don't want to get this stuff on your clothes, and the nuance between your skin and the make up will be really obvious at your neckline," she said making her work sound much more technical then it actually was.

Grave looked rather incredulous and he held that look in case he could break Joselyn's cool, self assured demeanor. He couldn't of course, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she was trying something unsavory, or at least unfamiliar.

"You're not trying to get me to strip are you?" he joked trying hard to keep the joking sound from his voice.

Joselyn met his stare evenly and smiled a bit.

So what if I am? she thought lecherously whilst saying, "of course not," which she said innocently, and only because he didn't believe it was true he smiled back and took off his T-shirt, very slowly and carefully so as not to disturb Joselyn's work.

On Joselyn's end Grave still looked remarkably bored and deeply uninterested in getting naked. As she was brushing at the base of his neck she thought idly if she could convince him to strip even more but based on how reluctant he had been with just his shirt she thought she was lucky enough for him to remove even that.

After much deep thought Joselyn had agreed with Grave that the mask makeup was in fact a wise idea but it had taken some convincing for her, which upon further thought made no sense since she had no say in the matter and even she knew that.

Even after knowing him for about a months time Joselyn failed to grasp exactly what was wrong with his appearance. She had even gone so far as to ask the other students what they saw in him that was unpleasant. They had said quite surprisingly –and yet it wasn't- the very same thing Grave had predicted they thought. They were simply uncomfortable seeing someone who looked cadaverous walking around like another monster.

This infuriating piece of information had Joselyn jamming her hands in her pockets for hidden concern that they'd find their way to her weapon. Not as she predicted she was more angry that it was true and not at all because Grave was right again about the thoughts of others. That kind of shallowness made Joselyn want to say that she wanted to puke.

She herself was still quite the opposite of the shallow ones. Everyday Joselyn found Graves appearance more and more pleasant. She often found herself watching him without noticing herself, much the way when someone notices that they're dreaming just before they awaken.

She knew that he was bothered when even she looked at him but she didn't let a little thing like that make her stop. And besides, she also knew that Grave watched her the same way when she wasn't looking, like when she was actually reading instead of watching him, or those few minutes before he rubbed her back to wake her up.

The notions of cadaver hood needless to say were nothing more than nonsense to her. And if he was a corpse then he was not the gross kind if that were possible. He did not look like a creature that had been mutilated and then rotted in the dirt somewhere with wormholes in the skin and the children of maggots in his eyes.

He wasn't some toothless lumbering thing that stank and was missing sections of its hair and organs and he certainly wasn't hungry for brains. What he actually was was fair. He was not the meat loaf that had gone bad in the fridge, more he was the wine that had fermented politely for perhaps three years.

His skin and eyes she admitted did look the part of death, but a quiet death, and a peaceful one at that. His aroma was meaty –for some reason, she had failed thus far to ask him about that- but it was not decayed. His posture was good enough for a teenager who was unconcerned about his spine and…

…and he was pretty damn it…

…and he was even prettier than that the closer her got to naked. Joselyn smirked to herself when she thought about that. Graves pupils weren't the only parts of him that she wanted to examine.

She almost forced herself to stop smiling the way she was but then she remembered that Grave was shutting his eyes so she would have her privacy with her little crush a little more.

"You can put your shirt back on now," she said with finality and started putting away the part of the kit designated for skin.

Joselyn gave Grave a little space for putting his shirt back on by sitting on her heels and thereby allowing his cock some room to breathe. Joselyn allowed herself another particularly sweet smile while Grave had his shirt over his head, and it was a sweet smile savored because Grave was being very careful with putting the garment back on.

Having been sexually for about three years, Joselyn was all too aware that a teenage boy's dick had a hair trigger on it. And based on the moment when she put herself in that position to apply Graves make up she found that he was no exception.

Also, since she was on the subject of the teenage boy characteristics. Grave was obviously no exception concerning the 'I don't wear make up Hyne-Damnit' attitude. But all the same Grave allowed himself to be subjected to the treatment for the sake of practicality, of course.

After Grave had his shirt on again and his eyes once more lidded shut Joselyn assumed her other position and continued her secret smile when she saw Grave wince. She took out the brush for lipstick, Grave gulped audibly after wincing and Joselyn was tempted to rub against him a little bit –oddly enough though, it would be more for the sake of playful torment than it would her desire to please him. Instead of doing that since she thought it would be too suspicious she dabbed the sponge like brush in the light pink matter and put thin streaks across those violet lips.

Not for the first time during their make up session Joselyn thought about kissing him. Now more than ever though because it was his lips she was working on. They were so close then, and it would feel so good to just let him know what she wanted, and by simply taking it when he certainly wouldn't protest seemed like the perfect way to do it.

But that would probably smear the lip stick she told herself mentally. All things considered that was a pretty stupid excuse but she really, really needed an excuse to keep her lips to herself and if that was all she could come up with then she would need to take it.

That aside it almost pained Joselyn to cover up that violet color on his lips. She would have complained about it but Grave would have no doubt told her something like, 'the public would be suspicious of purple lips, they'd think I was wearing lip stick,' or, 'you would be wearing lip stick,' she might retort smartly. But Joselyn knew he would find a way to make her shut up and put the stuff on him.

Grave was very skilled in the ways of making her pretend to see things his way and acting accordingly.

Joselyn gave his lips one final stroke and the task with the make up was done. She put the items back in the compartment resembling a cell phone and stood up. Grave followed suit and almost fell back against the couch for sake of not coming in contact with Joselyn but she took a step back in time for him to maintain his equilibrium.

After the make up was applied to his face, neck, his ears and even his fingers –she would have covered his whole hands but Grave was insistent on wearing his gloves all the time as he always did- there was one last detail to cover.

The contact lenses at first glance were just transparent but they gave the irises just the right shade of yellow to turn Grave's corpsely eyes a dark green color. It would be artificial -and perhaps they would be much like Joselyn's darker eye- but Joselyn was they would be pretty nonetheless.

Joselyn popped the once mysterious lid of the compartment and presented Grave with his drenched eye saucers. Grave seemed to be in a daze for instead of taking the eye contacts he stared at them long and hard. He didn't even look interested in them, not pleasantly anyway. It was the same look he gave the cafeteria food that he himself had not cooked; he was looking at something inferior or in some other way unwelcome.

Joselyn chose not to wave a hand in front of his face or speak to him and so she waited. That waiting paid off eventually when he carefully but swiftly snatched the object from her hand and went into the bathroom.

Upon his shutting the door –which was louder than she'd expected from him, perhaps she had failed to detect some hostility in him- Joselyn sat on the spot of the couch where Grave had been sitting and enjoyed the feeling of the warmth he left behind. She must have looked silly she thought, since she was sitting only on the warm spot which left her perched on the edge of the couch. But Grave wasn't watching, so her appearance was at that moment not a factor.

After several minutes of forgetting that Grave was still in the bathroom Joselyn found herself in a very pathetic state. She was trying desperately to absorb as much warmth from the spot as possible but it kept becoming narrower and she found herself squirming to maintain it. And it was at that moment that she realized how small Graves butt must actually be.

Cody's trademark knocking forced her to forget about Graves butt for the moment and pull herself away from the couch –which quite pathetically was not unlike pulling warm taffy from a wrapper- and answer the door for her friend.

Upon opening the door she found Cody's expression to be predictably fitting for the situation. He was smiling pleasantly as usual but his sympathy and concern for Grave was obvious.

"How'd it go?" he asked quietly and eagerly at once.

"He's fine, he almost slammed the door though," Cody almost looked worried but at the same time he looked well, not worried.

Perhaps it was because of what he thought about them. Whether he was right about them or not he knew for a fact that Joselyn was very good at keeping Grave's temper down. In fact upon his meeting her –if it could be called a meeting- he had not had any more violent encounters with other students.

Grave himself hadn't given this any thought at all, and Joselyn was aware of it but had no idea why it was working that way. This made Cody grin and hold in his laughter and enthusiasm. Clearly the beast had been tamed by the beauty but he knew that if he put it that way out loud he probably wouldn't be putting things in any way for quite a while.

In the last month Grave had become noticeably tamer with his tormentors and ignorers. When he saw people giving him the looks they gave him and the stupid remarks about his complexion he didn't look as phased as he once did. Some times he didn't pay any attention to them at all; he looked like he had something –or someone- else on his mind.

Cody liked to think that he was thinking about Joselyn, and he was willing to bet his last name that he was right. Although he was glad that Joselyn liked to be around them and everything, Grave was still a closer friend to him, and so he was much happier for Grave.

Cody came in and Joselyn shut the door. They were about to continue their discussion about Grave and the substance he was forced to wear for their mission but Grave himself interrupted them when he came out of the bathroom.

Cody opened his mouth as he pivoted his head to his friend, but instead of saying something he blinked and allowed his mouth to hang open letting out nothing rather than whatever comment he had planned.

Aside from the organic highlights in his hair Grave looked remarkably normal. His eyes were now that dark green Joselyn had expected, although it was a shade or two lighter than her own right eye. The skin on his fingers neck and face was now a more average looking shade of beige. He was still somewhat fair but not nearly as much so as he was underneath the mask.

Cody rudely looked bewildered for a bit but then he smiled.

"Dude, you're pretty," he paused, "like a girl," he added and smiled through the sneer that Grave was giving him, as well as the one Joselyn was shooting him from behind.

"Thanks," he stated ungratefully.

Cody turned to Joselyn and pretended she wasn't shooting him a death glare, or maybe he was just enjoying it because she was further proving his point of their relationship by shooting him said glare.

"You're good," he complimented shortly and excitedly without a trace of that high pitched tone of voice people tended to use when complimenting, the tone that made people sound like they were asking a question.

Cody was totally honest; there was no doubt in his voice. And that was what saved him from whatever wrath Joselyn might have conjured. It seemed that Cody could always have a redeeming quality about him. It was not quite infuriating but it was close, and perhaps that was another quality of his nice guy demeanor. No matter how much you might want to hate the guy you could never do it.

Grave chose that moment to speak up, perhaps because he didn't like that Joselyn had been looking at Cody for such a long time.

"Are we leaving soon?" he said sounding a tone that was like a hybrid of bored and impatient but not entirely hard to comprehend.

"Yeah, now in fact, did you guys pack?" he asked.

"We did, where's your stuff?" Grave asked happy to explore other subjects.

"My stuff's in the hangar already," he stated and thrust one thumb over his shoulder in a direction entirely different from the hangar.

"I guess we're ready then." Said Grave, going to his dresser for his luggage.

Joselyn followed suit and in minutes the trio was in the hallway with their door locking shut behind them.

The walk to the hangar was a short one, regardless of the attention Grave was getting. The quickness was thanks in part to Joselyn and both of the men knew it. Before her arrival Grave would exact as much vengeance as he could get away with when people did this to him –although right now it was not so much malicious verbal strikes as it was curious looks. He would usually strike back with a threatening retort or five, and with it he would give a devils grin which was entirely evil regardless of his hidden desire to be accepted.

Those verbal threats were what happened most often, and soon there would be another one to come.

As usual there were people in the hallway, and as Grave passed them his friends were ignored and he became the center of attention, although right now it was for a different reason. After they passed people or were passed by people they could hear the hushed whispers the quiet questions, was that him? And if so why did he look so different.

Even though this was infinitely preferable to the verbal spouts he normally dealt with he was more eager than before to get to the hangar and off to Deling City. And by the look on Cody's face he knew that his friend didn't want to witness anything burst out.

But as much as Grave wanted to pull through for Cody his desire for revenge would win once more.

They were nearly to the entrance to the hangar when one particularly daring cadet sitting with a little girl, probably his sister, made an unfortunately audible remark.

"See that Nimmy?" he said quietly but not quietly enough and pointed to Grave, with his arm wrapped around the girls shoulders and his mouth very close to her ear.

It looked very much like he was telling the little girl a secret.

"That's a demon, but don't be fooled, he only looks pretty 'cause he's wearing somebody elses skin," the daring cadet looked at Grave after he said that, wearing a stupid and unnecessary smile.

For once Cody found himself holding back not Grave, but Joselyn. Everyone had noticed Joselyn's reaction to the remark except for Grave, and that was a pity for Grave was the only one who needed to notice.

Instead Grave had his level stare on the little girl like he had not paid any attention to the elder from the beginning although he had. Joselyn calmed down, and after some persuasion Cody released her. In front of them Grave was still staring at the little girl. After such a long look the elder cadet was looking angrier and protective and after Grave continued to watch the girl he called out.

"Hey, keep your eyes to yourself!"

Grave did a double take then on the guy and looked at him as if he had just arrived. Upon showing recognition Grave smiled at the cadet but quickly brought his attention back to the girl.

Then he walked, long cotton swathed arms wrapped around the little girl protectively but neither biped budged, they only watched as Grave stepped closer to her. Once he was in front of them Grave kneeled politely in front of the girl and offset his politeness with a grin befitting something of a sadist, perhaps a pedophile or sexual bandit.

"You know," Grave said and he smiled more when the arms drew tighter along the girl's narrow chest and when the girl made a quiet sound for her discomfort, "demons love to eat little girls."

It all happened very quickly but only trained eyes were watching and so the event was not missed. A fist from the cadet lashed out at a short distance to Grave but instead of landing on his nose and tearing the make up Joselyn had worked so hard to apply it landed in Graves leathered palm and just as quickly Grave stood up and the cadet was spun to his back side and the girl fell safely at their feet.

Grave was now holding the cadets arms behind his back and looked ready to take it off and sling it over his shoulder like peeking duck. Grave twisted but only slightly, the PesticidE designated for the Hangar post was not there at the moment but there were others, and he didn't want to get caught right before his first mission for fear of being taken off the job. The cadet made just the volume of sound Grave was after and it was then Grave chose to speak to him.

"Will you shut your damn mouth or will I have to make this girl watch me take your arm away?" Grave sounded so different, so unlike himself, or so unlike the Grave that Joselyn knew anyway.

The cadet muttered an apology and groped his arm in relief after Grave let him have it back. Forgetting entirely about the guy and the girl Grave returned to his friends and gestured that they go into the hangar then. They both nodded with each their respective faces for Graves activity which Grave rudely ignored. They left behind the people in the atrium and made themselves think only of their mission and less of each other.

Departure

Inside the hangar, before the trio arrived Zell Dintch was scratching his head and wondering with his entire mind where the Wendigo wrench was. He was not on shift he had said to Savior moments before, but he was going to be the pilot for the recent Deling mission. But regardless of whether he was actually working or not Zell wanted to keep track of his tools. As his late foster father had once said to him 'The sign of a good mechanic is a complete and organized set of tools.'

If this was true then Zell Dintch was not a very good mechanic, thought Savior.

Although the combined efforts of Raijin and Zell had created a hangar, a plethora of miniature Ragnaroks, and even a unique degreaser that existed only in the Balamb and Trabia Gardens, they had also created an impressive vacancy where a lot of the equipment was supposed to be.

Or had it been them? After the disappearance of the Headmaster many who knew of Zells ranting about missing parts wondered if those happenings were not their bumbling but supernatural activity. Zell still blamed the gremlins though, mostly out of the sake of humor, for humor was needed for some people at that time.

One really had to wonder what Zell thought the Gremlins did with all of the things he claimed they were stealing.

Savior himself was pacing back and forth beside the entryway, he was twirling his sword idly but with a certain amount of boast as the twirling was complicated and the activity was taking place above his head. Admittedly, this method of passing the time was one of the reasons he selected the weapon to begin with. The weapon was shaped very much like an exacto knife but the shape was changed adequately to make it a sword. As for the easy twirling, the weapons center of gravity was in its hilt. This made for quick swinging. Although this did make it an effective weapon, Savior mostly got it so he could do this.

"Has there been any word on the disappearance of the Headmaster or SeeD Saeta?" asked Savior partially out of concern, but it was interpreted as idle conversation to Zell who couldn't hear the other mans actual tone.

"Nothing on Squall," began Zell on a low note, he didn't turn around from the tools rack, "But Raijin heard from Fujin yesterday and he flew out to Trabia to join her on a mission she had."

"What was she doing in Trabia?" some of the elevated tone in Saviors voice made its way through the mouth piece when he asked that but Zell didn't notice.

"Beginning her mission apparently, she said that she just vanished the night of the graduation and appeared in Trabia a week after that. Raijin said that she was totally ready when she prepared ya know? It was a weird coincidence," Zell rummaged through a tray of miscellaneous metallic objects hoping to find what he was looking for, it was like he was fishing.

"That's good news," Savior said, he not once stopped twirling his weapon.

Having run out of things to talk about Zell continued his search for the enormous tool and Savior moved to a more open space of the hangar where he performed one his boring katas. Though as boring as they may have been to him an observer would find it interesting.

Savior swung high, and then he swung low behind him. He swung upwards then charged ahead of him while swinging the sword in an infinity pattern numerous times. He then moved on to other movements and while he was doing them he paid much less attention than an onlooker might think. If anything the katas were something to pass the time. The ones that he was taught he found were much more like a dance then they were of actually combat. When in combat, the amount of style applied to your movements is limited due to the fear of death and other concerns.

This was perhaps another reason why Savior didn't like katas. He was not fond of dancing. That was one of the reasons –if not the only reason- he brought Quistis from the ball room that night and took her to the bridge where events turned far differently than he had expected.

Savior finished with a flashy pose which he left incomplete for the sake of his weapons sharpness. It was a quick spin and a strike to the ground with his weapon, he was then to drag it around him and make an arc shape on the ground but instead he stopped just an inch above the floor and moved it around him as if he was posing appropriately.

The training to remain calm under pressure he had endured for so long almost didn't keep him from falling on his ass when he heard the applause. He looked up from his weapon to see the trio he was meant to protect for an undetermined amount of time.

It was only the lighter haired ones who clapped. SeeD Grave was looking just as unimpressed as he felt –and equally different physically- he nodded in recognition as if his friends weren't behaving differently. Savior nodded to him as well joining him for only a moment to ignore his comrades.

"We got you? Sweet," said SeeD Highwind with satisfaction and then proceeded to their designated Whelp where he opened up the luggage compartment for his friends. His own luggage was apparently inside already.

"You guys have all of your stuff right?" asked Zell who was met with a collective muttering of positives and so he vanquished the thought that they might be missing something.

"Then let's not waste time, we need to be their by this evening," said Savior after slinging his own belongings over his shoulder, the belongings being in a bag that would have matched his outfit if it had the colors of blue and gold lining it.

Everybody stored their luggage in the designated compartment then boarded the Whelp. After the machine was started –and after some friendly banter about Joselyn remembering to restrain herself this time around- it was airborne and out of the inanimate dragons jaws they flew.

EG

Quistis opened the fifth potion bottle and poured its contents into the pool of potion liquid in the heating device. She placed the bottle on a metal tray where droplets of the magic fluid splashed onto the metal where it would eventually be wiped away as if it were as unimportant as apple juice. She turned the device up to one hundred and fifty degrees Fahrenheit and closed the lid tightly.

She was turning away when she briefly contemplated the droplets of potion fluid and why exactly they didn't save them somehow. It seemed a waste to let such precious fluid that was so hard to make go to waste. Surely the amount of droplets they let fall added up to some substantial amount.

This nitpicking Quistis was going through was a bit silly but it was still not without good reason. Ever since the declaration of Galbadias grudge against B-Garden they had been forced to become more resourceful for themselves. It was true they had certain agreements with Esthar that in the beginning where they were to accepts supplies which had helped wonders. But since then Squall had allowed his malice for his father drive him away from the help and since then they had used their monster harvests to keep themselves stocked up on the necessary supplies.

Although a certain amount of magical refining was in order sometimes they needed to apply more science to their methods of staying stocked up, hence her brewing the potions into hi-potions. The process was simple enough; the content of a normal potion contained a lot of water, since magic hitting the system the way it did when it was swallowed a certain amount of dilution was necessary. To make a hi-potion –something designated for more serious injuries due to the lack of dilution- you simply combined three normal potions and heated them until the excess fluid evaporated away. To make Hi-potion+ or X-potions you repeat the process.

The concern about their supplies was getting worse as of late. For three years they had been doing a stable enough job of remaining in good supplies but lately things were looking grim. Three years was a good run, but they were running out of food and medical supplies and so they needed very badly to restock.

This was why they were defying the Headmasters orders and directing the Garden to Esthar.

Xu's habit had always been to take charge immediately when there was a crisis and her superiors could do little or nothing. It happened three years ago when the battle between Cid's followers and Norg's followers broke out and it was happening again after Squalls disappearance.

Xu assumed the temporary Headmaster rank as instantly as Quistis suggested it to her if not sooner. After all Quistis had walked in on her making the calls that she –due to her position as a non-headmaster staff member- was not obligated to make to Esthar to do the very thing that Quistis was thinking about. Xu was trouble to Squall, if not just for the reason that she nagged him about things like Esthar.

It was perhaps a good thing that Squall had vanished when he did. He could be a stubborn man sometimes and that stubbornness might have sent B-Garden down the tubes… or into the ocean rather.

Upon hitting that thought Quistis remembered about the other occupant of the Infirmary, she also remembered about a conversation that she had with Raijin before he left the previous day.

Rinoas mood had not improved noticeably even after that humorous banter from the previous day. Her work had improved however, and Quistis couldn't help but hate the part of her that was happy about that. Regardless of how helpful it actually was and how un-helpable Rinoas situation was.

Or was it?

Rinoa was at her desk finishing paper work the same way Quistis had that morning finished grading test papers for students. She did it with quick efficiency and quick marks struck down with very little thought or concern. But it was done perfectly none the less. Quistis enjoyed watching this as boring as it was. She liked to notice things that she had in common with Rinoa, if not to feed some of her desire for Squall in a way too complicated to think about. But to feel some pride for her friend, it was true that Rinoa was still who she was, but today she was not so much the damsel in distress she once was, she was not so much the pathetic princess meant to only sweep the knight off of his feet so he might insure her protection.

She deserved more respect now, and more than that she deserved to hear the good news.

"Rinoa?" Quistis called accidentally expressing a timidity that she didn't actually feel.

Rinoa finished marking a paper halfway through the stack in front of her and looked up to Quistis through small rimmed glasses not unlike the ones Quistis herself wore.

"Yes?" she asked looking frozen in time after she spoke.

"I have some really good news," Quistis said letting a small smile break through, a milder version of the kind Rinoa would beam shortly.

"You do?" she did beam then but not the happier one that would no doubt come soon, this was only a small bit of happiness shining through a dank moldy depression, it was the kind of smile that was more for Quistis than it was for Rinoa herself.

"I talked to Raijin earlier," she began but that did not seem to peak the interest she had desired. "And he said that Fujin called him yesterday," and there was the desired reaction Quistis was hoping for.

Rinoas face lit up the way a street light smothered in pigeon shit would. Beginning as a disgusting empty shell but then filling with light as if the pole beneath the bulb were to overflow with the intangible stuff, and the offending matter atop not entirely dissolving but still drying up and flaking away noticeably.

Although Quistis had not yet mentioned what Rinoa was hoping she would she predicted that Quistis would soon, unless if she beat her to it.

"He told me that she was surrounded by a golden light on the night of the graduation and it brought her to Trabia yesterday, she's fine." Quistis shared a sad but rejuvenating smile with Rinoa and was very pleased to notice that Rinoa apparently wasn't thinking about the implications of the phenomenon.

"So Squall is probably okay somewhere?" Rinoa pleaded knowing that Quistis would confirm her positively, and Quistis obliged her.

Well if you don't take into consideration that we know absolutely nothing about this golden light, and any effects it could have on people that Fujin might have been spared of like all of your fingers and toes sticking out of the back of your neck or something. And the fact that we have no idea where he is even if he was okay and on top of that he probably has no way to contact us unlike Fujin. Thought Quistis bitterly but made sure her bitterness didn't leak onto her face with the more positive emotions currently designated for that area.

"I'm sure he is," she said honestly and put a hand on Rinoas hand.

And Rinoa promptly threw herself around Quistis and began crying happily on the blondes shoulder accordingly. Although startled at first Quistis happily put her arms around Rinoa and listened to her muffled ranting for her.

They would remain that way for only a few more minutes however. For the unusual half ding half squelching sound the potion incubator made would soon go off and Quistis would be obligated to leave Rinoa for a moment and return to her to resume her comforting. But for the next few minutes at least Rinoa would have a shoulder she was willing to cry on for the first time in a week.

Arrival

I now recall a thought I had about three weeks ago, when I first saw Joselyn sleep and the first time I woke her up. I had thought that she was the prettiest girl I had ever seen but then I chocked it up to hormones. Now, I can admit that was only half true.

It is entirely beyond me how anyone including a fine specimen like Joselyn can sleep in this aircraft. This is not an airliner, our inconveniences of comfort are not limited to popping ears –although we are spared screaming children and caffeine addicts who never shut up but I'm not in the mood to pretend that those inconveniences even exist; I'm on a rant here.

She's like a beautiful sloth, if there is such a thing and surely there is. She is looking so very peaceful and content in that constricting harness, in this speeding aircraft so many miles above the ground. I envy her right now because flying is not quite my favorite thing to do. It is not a fear, but I think that if I were to fly I'd rather do it with my own wings.

For the first moment when I watched her sleep I was afraid she was dead. It was an alarming sensation, it was this rush of nausea and electrical currents running through my every fiber and resting mostly in my brain and my stomach. It was so uncomfortable. And it was so sudden that the grief itself didn't have time to register for I saw her breathing after that moment.

Her hair is still braided the way it was earlier today. Rather than the larger braids stacked in the back she has three thin ones on the left side of her face. The hair that is normally braided in large ropes is loose now and resembles a wavy wedding veil thrown away from her face.

And now I want to chew off my toes because I just pictured Joselyn wearing a wedding veil. Being a teenager is too weird; I can't wait for it to end.

Surely Cody is grinning at me right now while I stare at Joselyn. And for all I know Savior could be doing the same thing under that goggle of his. But I'm not so sure that I care anymore. It's obviously no secret to him now how I feel about this girl. But she will never be with me, so I hate and wonder at that grin of his. The fool must think that I'm wrong. Joselyn won't want me; nobody wants to fuck a corpse.

Or nobody I'd be interested in anyway. Which is perhaps shallow on my part but I really don't want to consider that.

I'm not even going to bother to look at him. He'll start our inevitable conversation soon enough. And whether Savior is sleeping or not –it's impossible to tell- we're going to talk about her and I'll say things that I wouldn't even tell her.

"So how have you two been doing?" Cody asks finally, trying to drag some details of something out of me, he's flashing that knowing smile that seems to say not that he knows what I do know but what I do not know.

Who ever said B-Gardens nice guy was beyond being annoying?

"Fine," I answer as I always do so of course he will continue as he always does.

"What's been so fine?" Knew it.

"Oh," I began intentionally sounding more uncertain than I really am.

That line always works on me and I just don't know why I just shut up when he uses it. I of course stall for time at first since that is what is necessary after being asked that. As if I were not embarrassed enough at this point once he asks me that I immediately come up with a dozen things that were fine or better. Mostly they're better in my opinion but I don't think that Cody has the mind to distinguish those things.

I always know what I want to say. And that of course bothers me more than anything else about this. It gets to the point where I really want to tell him. I want to talk about this. I have found that crushes and perhaps other aspects of romances is not the sort of thing that can entirely be kept to yourself. You will want to complain or you will want to brag or something.

Mostly I just wish.

I suppose that I'll just tell him. He would get it out of me eventually anyway I suppose. I look him straight in the eye and smile.

"She smells like Winterfresh," I whisper but audibly, but hopefully not audibly to Joselyn, I really, really don't want her to be pretending to be asleep now that I'm giving in.

Cody makes a face, "Winterfresh? You mean the gum?" I laugh a bit at that and I don't even try to stop myself.

"Kinda, but it's colder and not quite as sweet," I say quietly and turn my head back to Joselyn.

I almost feel like I said it to her more than I did to Cody, and I'm sure that he noticed that.

It's funny how easily I forgot that Savior is sitting right across from Joselyn and is probably listening to all of this.

There's a jerk in the machine and we stop suddenly. It was the air brakes I think. I didn't experience this before since I missed the landing of my Whelp on our field exam and since we don't worry about attack when we're in the Garden simply slowing down is preferable. Or it at least that's what I think; I am not the engineer after all.

We descend and my ears are relieved. Joselyn wakes up beside me and yawns very widely and I'm almost embarrassed to be looking into her mouth like this. She casts her sleepy gaze on to me and smiles.

"Are we there yet," she asks sleepily then yawns again, but this time much smaller.

Instead of me, the air craft answers her back making a very abrupt stop on the ground beneath us. Our restraints are removed automatically and the hatch opens immediately. Apparently this is a newer model. I seem to remember that was a problem a while ago.

Joselyn and Savior are the first to depart from the machine followed by Cody and I. And now comes the time for all of us to restore the feeling in our asses.

EG

The quartet exited the vessel gracefully then waited for it to land so they could retrieve their luggage. Each of the teenagers behaved slightly differently, Savior noticed. The girl looked the most impatient –which, despite his acceptable respect for women- Savior thought was typical. She was tapping her feet and squinting at the Whelp for another reason that was obviously not the waves of heat and air it was giving off. Highwind looked very eager to retrieve his things but seemed to be in no hurry. And Grave looked the way Savior himself looked, mostly uninterested in the whole deal.

Perhaps it was because they both had minimal amounts of things packed. Or perhaps it was because they both had certain women on their minds. Based on the way Grave was speaking about his taller comrade he thought that was right.

Really Savior didn't care about the relationships of others. Relationships that were not his were none of his concern. For a relationship that was his required all of his concern. Abgestossen was clearly Graves constant subject just as Quistis was his own.

Ever since the night of the inauguration Quistis' ability to manipulate Savior had skyrocketed. Although manipulation might not have been quite the right word it was the only one that Savior thought was suitable. The woman needed now was a watch to wave in front of his eyes and some archaic incantation to recite and the package would be complete.

She would lure him into her room when he had free time at night. And even a few times when he didn't but he chose not to tell her. The lectures from Xu were easily endured when considering the boring job he'd be doing if he obeyed her –her being Xu.

Mostly they only talked. At first they had tried to imitate pillow talk but with his head gear he had looked too funny for Quistis to keep her straight face. At which point he opted to sit upright on the other side of her bed. She had protested and told him that she would stop laughing –whilst giggling of course so her pleading was not met successfully- but Savior refused and after that he had selected the same spot for their conversations.

He wanted to think that she'd be sleeping with him even though that idea was pretty much ludicrous. Sure, they could do it. But it would be too hilarious, neither one would even be in the mood two minutes into it. They would be in the middle of learning one another's curves and movements, and he all the while would still be wearing his helmet.

Because he wasn't going to take off his helmet.

And that of course was still Quistis' number one concern. Although she was happy to have his company more often –and now his skin when she saw fit, or when he was pathetic enough for her- she was still most concerned about his identity. Even when he or she was speaking about something else he could read that curiosity on her face. The woman was absolutely transparent.

He wanted badly to show her and at the same time he didn't with equal aspiration but many more reasons. He wanted for her to see him as much as he didn't want to show his face, but without his mask he would lose his position, and without his position he wouldn't be able to see her at all.

Contrary to PesticidE nature, Savior didn't notice at first when the Whelp landed and when the SeeD's took their things. Instead, Highwind had to get his attention and remind him. He reached in the compartment and swung his bag from it and closed the hatch. He slapped the back of the machine audibly like it was a taxi then backed up. Zell began take off and if Savior didn't know any better he'd say that Zell had given them the thumbs up.

But then Zell probably had done that. For Savior in his own opinion knew very little about Zell Dintch. And perhaps he was right.

The whelp flew away and was soon forgotten for the excitement of the mission. Savior threw down his bag immediately and unzipped it. As he proceeded to empty the contents he received weird looks from each teenager. From experience alone he knew they were doing this, for that was what every team did on their first mission. Without looking up he explained.

"I can't just go waltzing in there dressed like this; I'll be recognized as a B-Garden soldier and that can't happen."

"So what are you going to wear instead?" asked Highwind.

"This," he said a certain amount of distaste that was hidden entirely by his mouth piece and held up the item.

It was a large one piece black stealth suit tailored for Savior. It looked like the hide of a man-shaped waxed seal hide, shiny and black. It sported the same sort of mouth piece his normal uniform did but a smaller one. It also had an unnecessary left goggle which Savior thought was the out fits one redeeming quality. He really didn't like it, he felt like some dominatrix pervert when donning the thing.

"So you'll be sneaking around in that thing?" asked Cody sounding dorkishly eager.

"Yes," Savior deadpanned and dropped the garment unceremoniously like he might a pair of stiff socks spent too long beneath the bed.

"So you're like a ninja," Cody exclaimed with much noticeable approving.

Savior had honestly never thought of it that way. But when one considered the outfit and the activity he would be partaking he supposed he wouldn't be unlike a ninja.

He decided that he didn't need to give that any real thought so he didn't bother to reply to Highwind.

"You know where to go. I'll catch up with you by tonight. You'll know I'm there when I want you to know."

With that the SeeDs nodded and made their way to the city. Behind them Savior changed into his disappointing outfit and put his preferred uniform into his bag. He would be there by night time.

The First Night

Deling City is a sight to behold. Although fewer of the buildings are enormous as one might expect from such a large and notorious city it looks grand nonetheless. The buses run day and night, the city lights make up for lack of sun in the darkness as if the city had a sun within itself, and every street and alley is permeated with a smell that can only be described as hot steel and garbage juice.

I am not particularly taken with this city but I can still recognize the virtues that draw others to it. Joselyn and Cody are completely different and to different degrees just as I had expected. Joselyn is literally spinning around to take everything in and if not for Cody and I standing on either side of her she would have run into many a person and even more muggers –of course that would not matter since all of our pockets are empty and our bags have locks on them.

Cody is more ecstatic than I am but not so much as Joselyn. He pays much attention with his eyes on the sites –the architecture, and body parts of interest respectively- and seems to not need his eyes to stop Joselyn when she's about to encounter someone from behind again.

I always thought when I was younger that I would be behaving the way Cody is and with him –although back then this make up either didn't exist or was simply unknown to me so I never thought I'd go at all- but I'm finding myself averting my eyes from the sights and keeping them where they always seem to land now.

Joselyn's body I think is much sweeter to the eyes than anything else I'll find in this city. And that is not only because I wouldn't look in this city very much anyway since that is thanks in part to Joselyn. It's perhaps an infinite loop. If it is a loop to begin with, I'm not really thinking about this very much.

She changed into a trench coat after we left Savior outside of the city. It's blue and the sleeves are rolled up, she said that she doesn't like sleeves when she put the garment on even though neither I nor Cody had asked her anything. I suppose it was something she just wanted us to know. And now ironically the girl who hates skirts so much looks almost like she's wearing one, with the lower part of the coat spinning around her the way a long dress would.

The night may be pleasant but we have to go. Evening is upon us and if we do not show up on time Miss Ostentat will no doubt want to be unreasonable with us. I say this much to my friends and after a few minutes of bugging Joselyn –and simultaneously being bugged by Joselyn- we take the nearest available bus to the Ostentat mansion.

EG

The Ostentat mansion was a building that was true to its name. Most other buildings in the area –or even the whole city for those who cared to examine that much- were also wonderful structural accomplishments wondered by sight-see'ers and regular passers-by alike. But the Ostantat mansion called much more attention to itself than was really necessary, even for a mansion.

The building itself along with the land around it, the garden, the garage and every other necessity and luxury available that was in and around the mansion took up an entire city block for itself.

The topiary's which suspiciously looked to resemble royalty stood taller than most buildings and even most parts of the mansion. Statues that might have been carbon copies of one another stood atop each pillar and along the walkways –which were countless marbles sealed to one another, made to look like a road of bubbles- and on other parts of the mansion itself. They were the image of a lion with the head of a man, the body was small and the head was the same size with hair that was rounded but limited to give the face a large forehead, and a large moustache was unmistakable.

It took the trio literally one half hour to cross the walkway and reach the main doors. They only knew this because Joselyn became very irritated on the way and went as far as to take her watch from her pocket and time their walk to the doors which Cody had begun to mock as legendary.

When they finally did reach and doors and after Grave managed to revert Joselyn to her milder mannered and rarely seen side Cody knocked on the enormous door. The knocker was the variety of a face holding a ring its mouth. None spoke it, but each teenager noticed that the face was not a gargoyle but the same face seen on the statues of the lion's bodies.

The doors opened promptly and they were met by the face of a butler. A man clearly aged more than those he worked for. His posture was superior even to the teenagers he stood before which suggested a certain pride found in the elderly, but his eyes and face were downcast like a man convinced he was not worthy to look at another human face.

This had occurred to our trio and although they had not quite yet met the Ostentats they found themselves judging them based on the first few seconds they had spent with one employee.

"Greetings, sirs and madam," said the butler eloquently, "you must be the assistance," the SeeDs were pleased to hear the butler was wise enough to use the word 'assistance' rather than blatantly saying Seed, or even mercenary.

"We are," Said Grave and upon hearing that the butler moved to one side of the door and gestured them inside.

The grandness of the main room matched the grandness of the walkway. The entire interior was made of wood glazed a dark brown, the carpets and draperies across the walls in spots where portraits were absent were red and sometimes lined with gold. There were many portraits on the walls above the staircase and lining the inside of it. Each one of a different ancestor and most were dated long ago.

The trio suddenly felt very out of place, and somewhat unwelcome at that.

Once inside they resisted the urge to simply drop their bags on the floor assuming they'd be annoyed by way of scolding from an old woman in the shadows. Instead they nearly dropped their bags upon hearing the loud voice from the young woman standing on the balcony above the duel stairways.

"You've arrived!" the voice was that of a girl who had been taught to speak 'properly,' and who loved it.

Upon examining her she decidedly had a body and garments to match her voice. They had not had a good look at her yet but she was dressed appropriately, a red dress stopping at her knees adorned with a design that was foreign and pretty but probably inappropriate for a Galbadian.

"You must be the hired help. Geeve's," she snapped her fingers upon saying the name that was undoubtedly the butlers. "Take their bags and bring them to their rooms," the butler tapped Cody on the shoulder and startled them all, having seemed to re-materialize after being summoned.

They handed him each of their bags and were a bit surprised when he took them away with minimal effort but their eyes were taken away soon by the young woman again. She was descending the stairs and they now had a better look at her. With every step she took Cody and Grave looked more interested, and Joselyn was increasingly worried.

"You're right on time too, we appreciate that very much here," her fingers slid across the banister as if they were oiled and they probably were Joselyn thought, her feet touching each step very carefully but quickly for she was impatient to meet her new protectors.

She approached them with a self assured gait which in Joselyn's opinion was more of a sluttish strut but that might have been her more offensive judgment speaking. In fact she was pretty sure it was since the girls eyes seemed to be fixed on Grave more than she and Cody.

Joselyn felt like hissing but she didn't do it.

The garments she was wearing Joselyn recognized were Trabian. They were the kind of ceremonial garments that the Shumis wore for their holidays. The girl herself looked alarmingly like Dr. Heartilly. A younger version of the doctor but with shorter hair and larger eyes… and a sluttier strut added Joselyn silently.

"Daddy they've arrived!" she called over her shoulder to a smaller door located under the staircase, it was likely a study, or more likely a whole damn library.

"Well," she said turning back to her new guests and claiming their full attention once more. "My name is Cornucopia Ostantat," she said unnecessarily gesturing to herself by placing her fingertips against her collar bone.

Without giving them the attention to introduce themselves to her appropriately she stepped to one side and gave each of them a once over whilst walking along them like a sergeant might his privates. Joselyn noted intently that she actually gave Grave a twice over and with a smile that Joselyn found far too predatory for her to be comfortable with.

She moved back to Cody after looking over Joselyn with much disinterest and finally showed curiosity as to their identities.

"And you are?" she asked Cody superiorly.

"Cody Highwind, Miss Ostentat." Cody said politely and offered one hand to the young girl who took it but did not shake it, Cody understood instantly and descended his head as if to bow and touched his lips to her knuckles briefly.

Cornucopia was immensely pleased then moved on to Grave before Cody finished elevating his head.

"My name is Grave," he said bluntly and that shook Cornucopia for a moment, but her interest in him shone through quickly and she seemed to forget about it once his mouth was closed again, Grave did not offer her his hand.

"I'm charmed," she said sincerely and kept her eyes on him even as she was moving on to Joselyn.

"And you," Cornucopia asked looking suddenly bored, Joselyn almost scowled at the girl but her better judgment –or perhaps some words of warning using Graves voice in her head- kept her from slipping her etiquette and she curtsied for the girl using her trench coat like a skirt to complete the motion.

"Joselyn Abgestossen," she said slowly so the girl might catch each sound value and she elevated herself above the young girl's height once more.

By the time she meant to look the girl in the eye again she had moved away and therefore ruined the stare of impending warning that Joselyn had meant for her to see. Against Graves voice/her better judgment she was about to say something to the girl but he was interrupted by a more adult and male voice too quickly.

"The SeeDs are here wonderful!" The door to which Cornucopia had called to flung open and the face the SeeDs saw probably should have alarmed them, but they just could not summon that alarm.

The father had the very same face that had been on the gargoyles and the knocker. But on those statues they had seen grim and serious faces, this man was smiling and very much so. So much that the expressions they had seen before looked so much like fabrications brought on my arrogance… and some other word that they could not think of but still weighed quite heavily on their minds.

"And you're on time," he said and put one arm around his daughters shoulder who reciprocated unusually happily for a teenage girl who was being touched by her father.

Joselyn wanted to match the mans eyes but the eyes of his daughter seemed to be locked on Grave and his various exterior virtues and so Joselyn was having a hard time looking intently away from her.

It was a good thing Cody was there to make up for her.

"Is it alright if we went to our room's sir? We're very tired after traveling over your walkway," Cody quipped and luckily got a laugh from Mr. Ostantat.

"Of course my boy, Geeve's," he snapped his fingers as his daughter had before. "Show our guests to their rooms," he moved his eyes back over the SeeDs. "You will begin your work tomorrow but for tonight you may rest. We will speak properly in the morning."

Geeve's manifested behind them once more and after they had their moments to be startled he led them on the expedition to their rooms.

EG

Now that I've arrived in my room, now that I've dropped my bag carelessly on the floor somewhere, now that I'm half laying on the couch and half laying on the floor because I'm too lazy to make myself entirely comfortable, I realize how lonely I felt once Joselyn and Cody went to their own rooms.

I am also realizing that I smell very, very gross. And I'm also noticing an absence of other odors that I originally thought were me but I now realize were my comrades. I suppose we all need a shower now, especially after that long walk we had.

I'm of course referring to the walk to our rooms.

The Ostentat's clearly don't understand the meaning of subtlety. And they don't quite know when to stop either. Cornucopia wouldn't stop looking at me funny; I think she had something in her eyes. Perhaps she was trying to imply that she wanted me to take it out but that's just absurd. Although I don't think I'd put it past a girl to do something that weird.

But that's probably biased of me since my only references of women are Quistis and Joselyn. And they would probably consider it an insult on my part to refer to either of them that way.

Joselyn in particular, she doesn't really strike me as the type of girl who would try to get attention from a guy by applying inane little gestures to flirting. And now that I think of it I might not notice it even if she did. There's an unfamiliar knock at the door.

"Grave?" asks a voice that sounds much like Joselyn's, well, think of the devil…

"Come in, I haven't passed out yet."

She opens the door and staggers into my room. She's smiling as best she can for my quip but it's probably more for friendliness than humor. She's probably too tired to laugh. She stops in front of the couch, then wavers, she starts swinging her arms in circles in a cartoon fashion more for show than for the sake of staying on her feet and she falls beside me on the couch. She adjusts herself until she's lying on her side and facing me, she has one arm wrapped around her head and I could see both of her eyes if I bothered to turn my head.

Joselyn says nothing for a long time and I expect that she's fallen asleep on the couch. I siphon what strength I have into my neck and I turn it to face her. She is not in fact asleep but she is looking about as tired as I feel.

Hyne she's pretty, even when she's melting from fatigue she's pretty.

She says something but I don't catch it.

"What's that?" I ask.

"I said I want to ask you something," she says quietly and carefully, I have a sinking feeling that she's been preparing this but isn't sure about herself.

"I just wanted to know…" she catches her breath in her throat and bites her lower lip cutely and looks out the corner of her eye.

"What is it?" I ask softly, hoping that will coax her question out of her.

"I was wondering if, you were going to wear that make up all the time now," she sounds very worried and I can't imagine why.

I have not thought about that actually, not for a moment. But now that she mentions that I'm not sure. Perhaps I could do it, but Garden probably wouldn't permit me to wear the stuff outside of a mission. But perhaps I could get Quistis to get around that if I asked her too, although she'd probably give me a lecture about how I shouldn't be unhappy about the way I look.

And this of course would be coming from a woman who spends thirty minutes preparing her hair in the morning. I only know this from late night study sessions.

I admit that I liked the way the people in Deling looked at me though. And I especially like they way they didn't look at me. Like people thought of me like I was normal, or like they didn't think of me at all because I didn't stand out.

I understand that the appearance shouldn't be what matters but I felt different on the inside too. On the outside I felt different because I had this make up on but that is strictly physical and probably doesn't quite count. Ultimately I think that I prefer myself covered up.

Is this how women feel…? Women who wear this stuff, that is?

I do prefer feeling normal, I do like the way I was acknowledged and ignored today. But I don't like they way Joselyn is looking at me right now. I think she's worried and I'm sure that she doesn't want me to think this way. But she can't change the way I think.

"I'm not sure," I respond and she does not look happy, but she says nothing else so I think that she will let me off temporarily.

She scoots her upper body closer to me and she closes her eyes. I almost ask her if she wants me to take her to her room but her breathing changes and I know that she is asleep already. I should probably be a gentleman and wake her up and walk her to her room… but a gentleman wouldn't wake up a girl when she's sleeping peacefully now would he?

I like loopholes.

I can't say that I am asleep for I have never been able to tell when that happens. But soon I will be asleep, and soon my breathing will steady with Joselyn's and perhaps I can drink these free exhales of hers while she is beside for this brief time.

Reunion

It was just as Squall remembered it although some minor things had changed. The Tomb of the Unknown King had continued to collapse as ruins do. Particularly the ones that were as watery as this one. The cracks in the stone were deeper and more numerous, and spread further across the floors and walls and ceilings like a spider web-shaped crack in a wind shield.

The corpse of the unfortunate swordsman who Squall had to identify three years ago was still there and in the same sort of condition as the tomb in Squalls eyes. He was worse but did not look entirely different.

As he effortlessly ignored the scenery Squall wondered where Seifer and Quistis were. He had seemed to fall into a pattern where he would be watching them in each dream more than he would anybody else.

The first two dreams he had decided were mostly if not completely absurdity and perhaps even silliness. He knew that they had not been in that bar in Timber, and he knew that Edea did not take care of anyone in a mansion and certainly Rinoa had not been near any of them until their mission in Timber three years ago.

But there was something about the last two that struck Squall as genuine. There was no known evidence to challenge that Seifer had ever been in Winhil or the D-District Prison. And there was certainly nothing to contradict that Seifer and Quistis had known each other before the orphanage and that Seifers father had been a raving loony.

He wanted badly to believe it because it seemed very real to him. He wondered if these things had really happened and he absently wondered if there was any truth to the first two dreams.

A drop of water and dissolved stone fell from the ceiling and past through Squall like the apparition he currently was.

In answer to his question he heard foot steps behind him, and once he turned around he saw that there was no sign of Seifer but Quistis was certainly there. Their appearances weren't certain at first for their figures only looked liked stand out lines in the darkness but as they moved closer their images were manifest. Beside her was a tall PesticidE, and at his side a familiar sword that was shaped much like an exacto knife.

Recognizing Savior Squall wondered only for a moment if it was him. For the only Savior characteristic he didn't see was the tell tale –or rather keep quiet- swirl of polystyrene where his left eye goggle was meant to be. But that moment was short lived and he remembered the report from a mission from not more than a year ago.

"Look Quistis we've been over this, the Moogle Scouts will all inevitably grow up to be gay," Savior said while unknowingly a fraction of respect from Squall when he did, and knowingly losing more than a fraction of respect from Quistis beside him.

"They ARE not," Quistis exclaims loudly enough that Squall is surprised the tomb doesn't collapse from the sound, and from the way Savior had flinched while away from Quistis' field of vision Squall thought that he had been thinking the same thing.

But Savior quickly recovered and so continued his inane rant.

"Of course they are! First of all…" Savior began his counting fingers gesture but Quistis interrupted him once again shaking fear through him the way she shook vibrations through the brittle walls, floor and ceiling.

"I know! I've heard it all!" She began to mimic his same gestures and even shifted to speaking in a mock bee hive tone. "They wear short shorts, and those strange scarf things –the name of which you can never remember- they spend suspiciously long sessions sewing…"

"And the pom poms! They actually wear pom poms!" Savior exclaimed interrupting Quistis' interruption/interpretation.

Another heavy drop of water and dissolved stone fell, this time closer to the oncoming pair.

"Would you prefer feathers?" Quistis asked half seriously amidst the banter that would have been pointless if not for the lack of activity.

"A little bit yes," he said pointedly "They would be more…" he gestured un-sureness by spinning one wrist as if to will the cogs in his brain to turn faster.

"Masculine," Quistis asked sarcastically and grinned the way she imagined he did to her very often.

"… Less stupid" he said trying to pretend that she had not answered correctly and knowing that he had failed.

"Right." Quistis dragged out winningly.

"All I'm saying is that they may as well have interior decorating workshop 'cause then they'd be getting the perfect work experience at a young age."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this from somebody as cerebral as you," she said shaking her head but still smiling comfortably.

And then a third drop fell from the ceiling.

"Hey what's that supposed to -SHIT, QUISTIS!"

The third drop had activated a trap but they noticed too late. It was a brick shaped stone that the drop had struck, one that like the rest of the stones did not stand out unless if it was adjusted like it was now. It moaned as it scraped against the stone and fluid and stopped at once when a clicking sound sounded.

This was of course one of those moments when you cannot move. As if fate is holding you by whatever extremities you have been endowed with and will not let go until its plan comes through.

It was in this way Quistis' ovaries had been clutched and so she did not move. A clinking sound that reminded Squall of dominos sounded from the floor and around the wall until it stopped at the ceiling and once it stopped a slab of stone swung from the ceiling and out flipped a small un-healthy looking spike.

Savior didn't see it. He only saw Quistis paralyzed in the swinging objects path and so he lunged at her back and forced her to crouch.

And the spike impaled itself directly through Saviors left eye goggle.

Squall distinctly remembered that in the mission report from the pair it stated that Savior had lost his eye from a monster in one of those encounters they always had -those monsters which seemed to materialize sometimes making the fights seem like they were random or something absurd like that.

He didn't understand why they had lied to him. It was not as if this would have made any difference had they simply told the truth. Perhaps it had been for the sake of Saviors reputation but then again Savior never did seem too concerned about that.

He would ask them, he decided. He was clearly asleep now; once he awoke he would find the nearest contact to Garden that he could –unless if he was unfortunate enough to awaken in Galbadia or someplace, he was sure that it wouldn't be the Garden since he felt as if he had been transported when the golden sparks had surrounded him.

One could almost hear a distinct sounding tone coming from Saviors helmet when he screamed. But any amount of hope of discovering his identity that Quistis might have had was obviously crushed for the distinction was not profound enough for one to identify him.

Even through pain of permanent injury Savior refused to remove his helmet. It was then Squall began to understand how important Saviors position was to him. He had admittedly never given it much thought though, really Squall had just been grateful for the mans presence with B-Garden and that he thought was enough to offer the man. Squall was sure that he would have cracked under the pressure, had Squall been Savior his secret identity would have instantly been forfeit.

Quistis tore a very generous amount of her skirt from her legs and resorted to stuffing it directly into the helmet and she advised Savior to keep putting pressure on it. And as she contacted the Garden with the large communicator she kept on her person the scene of Squalls dream shifted.

It was not unlike the method of special effect that might have been employed had this been a scene in a movie. Every little dot of color swirled like a cloudy whirlwind of whipped cream and a hundred thousand grains of sugar each one dyed a different color and a different shade. As it was happening Squall couldn't tell for the life of him if he was spinning with it or if he was only feeling dizzy by simply watching it happen.

He was now in the B-Garden Infirmary. He was outside of the stall that he had been treated in three years ago after his scar dueling with Seifer. Inside he heard the voices of Savior –if it could indeed be called a voice, Squall himself was pretending for the sake of convenience that it could- and Dr. Kadowaki. Her silhouette bent down over a make shift table and Squall could tell that she was signing something, and Squall knew what it was.

This was something that actually had been reported to him truthfully. Normally it was Xu who would take care of any medical issues with the PesticidE's since she was responsible for them. Savior's condition unfortunately called for a higher caliber of doctor and so he had been given a private surgery with her and her nurses.

This meant that before this surgery even Dr. Kadowaki had never seen Saviors actual face and now that she had been forced to she had to sign a document that she would never convey the information of his identity to anyone even under any threat. Everyone but Xu and fellow PesticidE's were required to sign this document when they learned a PesticidE's identity.

The scene shifted to darkness and Squall awoke.

He awoke to the same shade of black. He awoke standing which only startled him at first and then at once he was startled by the scenery. He thought that the blackness had awoken to was only due to having his eyes closed for an undisclosed amount of time. But apparently the area was only blackness.

Once Squall took a breath he decided that he must still be in a dream. For only if her were in space would the blackness make sense but no where on the planet could it. He felt like he was standing and amidst the darkness he could see his hands as if he were in clear and present day time.

He was lost, he knew it, and the worst part was that it wasn't even his fault that he was lost. He wanted to run or to shout but there would be no benefit from that, he wanted help for once even if it were from Laguna…

…actually Laguna would probably look at the situation even or worse –or worse yet he'd look at it optimistically- so that was out and he refused to think about it a moment longer.

"You shouldn't think that way about your father Squall."

Squall spun, and for reasons unknown but feelings profound he was relieved. His big sister had always had that effect on him.

"Ellone!" he almost yelled and at the same time descended his brows into his puppy dog look –as referred by the women it was designated to- designated for Ellone and Rinoa.

It was one of those nick names that you tried to not complain about and resented almost as much as you loved your tormentors, almost.

Ellone stood somehow just as he was not three feet away from him. Dressed as she often was and looking happy despite their circumstances. She rushed to him before he could to her and leaped onto him as Rinoa might -minus of course kisses on the neck and lips and a hand on his ass. She felt surprisingly real, and she sounded surprisingly real although this place was obviously not entirely tangible.

"I'm so glad I found you, I lost track of you a while ago and I was worried," she said cryptically and clearly into his shoulder, and Squall became puzzled then.

"Lost track of me, what do you…?" And in mid sentence he realized it.

Ellone was showing him dreams again. It all made sense now, except perhaps for the first two which struck him mostly as nonsense. But the last two and the one he had awoken from just now made infinitely more sense. These were not the sort of dreams a person just had. These were only likely to be real events, and without Ellone such dreams were very, very improbable to conceive, especially in the succession that Squall had been having them in.

"You've been showing me the past again," he moved her away from him just a bit by her shoulders and stated this certainly and his sister nodded, "Why?" he asked not as admonishingly as Ellone had expected.

"I had a feeling that I needed to show you those things. Especially that last one, you were thinking how they reported falsely to you?" she asked changing the subject slightly but only for a moment and broke away from him.

"Yeah that's true, but you could have asked me, I would have let you do it," he said thinking he was being kind and reasonable but that notion was quickly crushed when Ellone scrunched a small unoffending scowl on her forehead and spoke louder.

"But we can't contact you since you never station anywhere!" she threw her arms in the air much the way Quistis did, and as she did this Squall wondered for a moment if it was from Sis that Quistis had acquired that habit of gesture.

Squall recoiled for a moment and remained quiet until his sister calmed down and gave him the face saying that she was sorry for out-bursting. Her scowl had meant little in the past three years after the heroes had become re-acquainted with it. When they were children it had given her a certain amount of authority even over Seifer, but now it was more amusing or cute than it was threatening or authoritative. Before she could voice that she had Squall held one palm up and spoke.

"It's alright Sis, I just don't want to see Laguna. I know I'm being selfish about this but I was planning on visiting Esthar soon since we were running low on supplies," he paused for a moment and made sure to hang on to her gaze. "And because I really wanted to see you," he added at the last second thinking then that it was a good idea to mention it.

Ellone smiled and sneered knowing that he had only thought of visiting her just now, now that he was in front of her –even though it was strictly in a mental sense- but she instantly forgave him not only because he was her brother, but because he was after all, a man.

"I have more dreams to show you Squall," she said quietly yet again changing the subject but this time permanently.

"Alright," he said with somewhat of a high note in his voice.

"I'll tell everyone where you are soon Squall. Good bye," and with that she gave him a peck on the cheek and once again he awoke.

EG

Before he opened his eyes, before he even registered the pain of his neck being forced as it was in a painful position against the beaten dirt path Squall recognized the smell of clarified air that was unique to Winhil.

Perhaps it was also unique to the highest peaks and the most efficient surgical rooms where the air was replaced every half second or so but as far as Squall was concerned it was unique to Winhil. He had never been in another place that felt quite so pure of smog and poison. The thickest scent that a person would normally think that clung in Winhils air was probably the oatmeal cookies, or the smoke from an old mans corncob pipe whilst he creaked peacefully in a rocking chair as old as he.

Squall himself was pretty sure it was actually the chocobo manure.

Right after he recognized the pain in his neck he recognized the sensation of something on his face that was warm and soft… and wet, too wet. Then he recognized the smell but instead of jumping and cursing and throwing the shit from his cheek he just lay there a little longer thinking, 'Is it any wonder?'

Somebody had probably dragged his body into the field and thrown him face first into the manure because the quack thought that is was part of Squalls destiny he thought bitterly. More annoying things had been done to him; more annoying burdens had been placed on his shoulder because of something that somebody else saw fit to do about his life.

Squall had never been concerned about other people hurting him, not really. He only used that excuse back in his recluse days because that was the average excuse for lone wolf-hood was, and he didn't care enough back then to decide why he was really doing it.

Aside from being taught how to be a mercenary and aside from taking orders from the highest bidder and his superiors respectively –back when he had a superior that is- Squall did not like to be fucked around with. Every day since he had been assigned the Commander position he regretted going along with it, and every second since he accepted the Headmaster position he regretted accepting it. Squall had never been a willing leader.

And now he was nose deep in Chocobo crap.

With an incredible kind of dignity that, if it had mystical properties might have caused the shit to simply slide of his face, he pushed himself up from the ground then gathered as much shit in his hand as he could and he threw it back on the pile at his feet. He looked at his clothes and sighed quickly in relief when he saw that none of the matter had made it to his collar or the leather.

Squall pivoted on one foot, sending speckles of shit off of his face and onto the grazing grass. He passed through the field –carefully examining his path for other brown piles- and passed through the section of fence that had been torn down by something.

As he passed the item store, the church and some of the houses Squall kept deciding over and over that he shouldn't enter whatever building he was at the moment examining. The item store didn't have a public sink, and holy water was out of the question…

Ignorant of the river he passed over the bridge and began renewed speculation of the square for he had not visited this town for quite a long time.

The place looked rather deserted but obviously wasn't. People could be seen through the windows and he could hear children playing in the waters. And that refreshing and mouth watering smell of honey oatmeal cookies was passing through the methane smell and into his nose like a blast of soap through a dirt mound.

Squall decided that he would need to buy about a dozen of those cookies after he washed off his face. He had not yet completed his first step when a familiar flicker of gold caught his attention from behind him.

Although he could not see it he could feel it. The energy almost felt golden in the same way caramel or butterscotch tasted of the color. It was really only his brain creating a ridiculous definition for lack of a better way of putting it but that was just fine.

The feeling of gold in his spine crawled up then vanished as quickly as it had arrived. At first he feared that he would be transported again. Galbadia was certainly not on his list of friendly places but he could just as easily end up at the bottom of the ocean, on the outside of the Deep Sea Research Center not that being on the inside would make much of a difference concerning his survival.

But no, Squall could feel it, true, but he did not feel it the same way. He felt it like it was only a wave or a spark jumping from a point of origin away from his body. He was not being sent away again, somebody else was arriving.

Squall turned around and embarrassingly enough did not forget that his face was covered in manure. Hyne, he hoped it wasn't Almasy; the fucker would no doubt never stop laughing.

The crackle and bright lights of gold fizzled and faded and then the arriver stood with a turned back to Squall. The new person stood in the middle of the bridge, and once composure had been regained the person didn't seem entirely disappointed about the arrival.

The figure turned around as if assessing the situation and instantly caught their own attention of Squall.

Suddenly, Squall wished it had been Almasy.

"Squall?"

I though I had Carpal Tunnel a while ago, can't imagine why.