A/N - Hola amigos! I finally have this chapter posted. It's taken me awhile, although not as long as usual. I recently (with my husband and two little boys) sold my house in the US and the majority of my belongings and we now plan to travel around a bit. First stop...Costa Rica. We're here for three and a half months house/dog sitting for a sweet couple we found on Craig's List. It's so amazing here, however, we might not move on for awhile as I'm loving it! I highly recommend this country. Anyway, it had been my intent to really get down to business and finish this story up (actually, this still is my intent) and I have two more chapters written and a plan for only two or three after that. Yes! But I'm running into a problem. I've taken up surfing. Who knew surfing was fracking amazing! Well, lots of people, but I never did. Sigh. It's taking over my life. It's all I think about, all I read about. And I suck at it, but don't many of us girls have hidden fantasies about being wild, natural, hot surfer chicks? I always have. Not sure if it will entirely come true, but here's hoping! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. And thank you so very much for reading it. And reviewing too. :)
Quistis awoke early Saturday morning to a knock and a note being slid under her door. It was a message requesting her immediate presence in the former lair of Norg, Garden's dark and expansive basement.
Her eyes narrowed a little as she read. Left unsigned, the note also gave no reason for its summons. Still, her curiosity was kindled, so she hastily tidied up her room and dressed. Before leaving, she gave a last look around and then grabbed her whip from where it was hanging at the side of her carefully made bed. Toting the weapon was likely unnecessary, but prudence required being properly armed.
The elevator seemed to take forever, shaking and shivering its long way down into the bowels of Garden, but once the door yawned opened, spewing her out, she was met with a warm, welcoming squeal...an eager Pet, gracelessly bouncing up and down.
"Follow me!" Pet grabbed her hand and led her several paces down a corridor to a large steel door.
"You are now a member of our secret library society," she said, handing her a card with an exaggerated flourish. It was a keycard and on it Quistis's name had been written in a beautiful script surrounded by a spray of pink roses...and several ancient symbols for the phallus.
"Thank you," she choked, but a wry grin suddenly tweaked her features when she realized how proud she actually was to receive it.
"We're awfully glad to have you. Several of the other girls are especially thrilled you've joined."
"Really?"
Pet blushed. "I think they're sorta hoping you'll share some of your secrets."
"My secrets?" Suddenly she was wary. The others knew it was against SeeD regulation to share any mission information...even with those to whom you were closest. "Pet, you know I can't-"
Pet held up her hands. "Not those sort of secrets, silly, but the secret to your success with boys." She looked down at her feet and scuffled her boots. "I mean, there's another Garden society whose sole reason for its existence..." Her hand fluttered to her heart and she again looked up with apparent awe. "Is you."
"Oh, you mean the Trepies," Quistis brushed that aside. "I never understood what that was about. Certainly I never tried to manipulate those boys into liking me." Surely they didn't think her the Arya Bellinni of Garden.
"I figured that. But the other girls were hoping there was more to it."
"I'm sorry to disappoint them. Hopefully they'll still want me."
"They will! Although it's not up to them anyway, but the Benefactress."
"Who is?"
Well, she's out of Garden right now and asked that I not divulge her identity until she introduces herself in person. I hope you don't mind."
Quistis was slightly disappointed, having been looking forward to gleaning this savory bit of information. Whoever it was, was certainly shrouded in secrecy. But still, she was eager to see what this library was all about.
"So can I swipe it?" she asked, gesturing towards the mechanism that locked the door.
"Be my guest!" Pet said, her dimples suddenly appearing. "We'll talk more inside. I hope we have the place to ourselves."
Quistis hoped the same and was greatly relieved to find the room quite empty, still feeling a bit of hesitancy towards her inception into the club. If she was to join she'd like to ease in gradually. Being allowed to peruse their meeting grounds without scrutiny was exactly what she preferred.
Especially as once she stepped inside, she could only stand at a loss for words and stare. The room overwhelmed her. It had obviously been a storage closet, but an immense one, perhaps once belonging to Norg. All traces of his regime had been scrubbed clean from Garden's underground and now the basement was left unused...except for this one little haven. This one piece of abject femininity.
Surrounded on almost three sides were floor to ceiling white bookshelves stuffed with novels, each begging to be investigated further. The library had lavender shag carpet draping the floor and the center of the room was strewn with various-sized bean bags all in vivid pinks, purples and fuchsias - cozy, girly and fun.
And the air smelled enchanting. An aroma whose origins eluded her floated about the room, subtle, yet enticing, and she audibly sniffed, trying to figure out its source.
"Over there. It's ylang ylang," Pet pointed, also taking a deep, euphoric breath. "There's several vials for the taking. In her studies, Danya Perkins discovered that the essential oil is a natural aphrodisiac so she decided to do a little research - with her boyfriend, of course - and concluded that the stuff works wonders on the opposite sex. She ordered a large shipment to share with us all. Smells heavenly, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Quistis replied faintly.
"It's much nicer than oysters, that's for sure."
"Oysters?"
"Yeah. They're aphrodisiacs as well, but horribly icky to eat. I swear I'd want to gag every time one slid down my throat. Zell likes 'em though!"
"Ah." Quistis was truly at a loss for words. She'd thought she'd joined a book club...well, a naughty sort of book club, but apparently their group was more than that. Possibly more than she'd bargained for.
For further evidence were the hundreds of photographs of Garden's young men - and even those from elsewhere - tacked up onto the one small stretch of wall that didn't boast any shelving. Biting the inside of her cheek, she furiously tried to hold her laughter in check. Amongst the photos, their images frozen for all of time, were the varied expressions of her three friends - Zell, Irvine and Squall - whose faces were each wreathed with tiny, fluttery pink hearts. If they only knew...
Unchecked, giggles escaped her. Squall's scowl would likely surpass even the furious one of his picture. Selphie had certainly been brave the day she'd snapped that one, she thought with another laugh.
But her breath sucked in sharply when she noticed a photo of Nida simply framed in black and nestled on a nearby shelf amongst several others, a small candle rimmed by glass flickering at its base.
"Those are the boys who've...you know," Pet said softly. Quistis swallowed and nodded, staring at the fine boyish features she had not yet forgotten. He hadn't been typically handsome, Nida, but somehow in looking into his eyes one never realized it.
"Several girls were crushed when he died."
"I wasn't the only one?"
"No. But everyone knew how he felt about you."
"Pet-"
"But it wouldn't have worked, you know? You do know that, right?"
Quistis stared at her new friend, the answer stalling upon her lips. Pet was swaying slightly and there was a sudden distant, vacant expression upon her face. And before Nida's picture, the flame seemed to grow.
"Your path lay elsewhere."
"What?" Her fingertips began to tingle. So did her knees.
"What?" Pet asked, blinking.
"You said that Nida and I wouldn't have worked," Quistis pushed. "Why is that?"
Pet shook her head several times and then her eyes cleared. "Why, he was too young for you, of course," she said. "Though it's really sad that he died. But we all know that's how it works around here, right?"
Quistis bit her lip. "Yeah, I guess we do."
She meandered away from Pet's side to study the shelves, stuffing all thought of him into the back of her brain, able to regain some composure-and even a little excitement-as she began to read aloud some outlandish titles. Several more giggles broke free. Gods, she loved this genre.
But it wasn't until she came to the last shelf that she paused, inspecting the books a little more closely. The line of novels had come to an abrupt stop, being taken over by at least a hundred reference books with titles just as - dare she call them such? - inspiring. Pleasures...A Guide To Great Sex; Safe Sex 101; Sex Positions from Mild to Wild; The Female Orgasm...
The Benefactress was obviously a very thorough-minded person; not one subject regarding sexuality was left uncovered. She supposed their inclusion was only to be expected, even applauded, but still, she could never borrow one of those. Sure, she could read The Beast of Balamb or Tempted in Trabia- actually there seemed to be a whole line of geography inspired titles - or Frisky In Fisherman's, but to check out and tote around a sex manual? It was never going to happen.
"So we have this tradition whenever someone new joins the group," Pet was saying a little nervously, rocking on both feet. "The B informed me that you'd probably be reluctant to agree, given your valuable time, of course, but it's sort of a requirement, and, um-"
"Just spit it out, Pet," Quistis sighed, wondering what on earth could be next.
"Each girl is given the initial task of writing a report to share with the others on one of the non-fiction pieces. Actually, the Benefactress chooses what each girl is to read-"
"And she chose for me?"
Pet slowly pulled out the largest volume on the shelf, a reference book with well over a thousand pages. The Big Book of Sex.
"Absolutely not," Quistis sputtered the moment Pet set it on the small table beside her. The book was so heavy the table swayed under its weight.
"But if you don't you'll have to give me back the card."
"That's fine."
"She was sure you wouldn't do it, you know? I told her she was wrong, but I guess she knew better."
"Do I know her?" Quistis asked. When she saw Pet's face go carefully blank, she narrowed her eyes. "She doesn't really want me here, does she?"
"No," whispered Pet, looking guilty for divulging as much.
Hefting the book into her arms, Quistis slammed it up against her chest. "Well, I'm here to stay. When does the report have to be finished?"
Pet's pigtails shook with delight. "Two weeks. Really, you'll do it?"
"Gladly. And I'll write the best damn report this group has ever read." No one at Garden was going to bar her from anything again. And she could be as addle-brained and sex-crazed as the rest of them. Perhaps it would be good for her.
Pet grinned and snatched a vial of the ylang ylang. "Here!" she said, thrusting it into the palm of Quistis's hand. "Take one. They're quickly disappearing."
"I think I will."
Suddenly, from outside of the room, a digital bell began to chime, indicating an announcement from either the Headmaster or the Commander. They both stepped outside the room to hear better.
It was a summoning of one Quistis Trepe to Commander Leonhart's office.
Biting her lip, she looked down at the large tome and wondered how she was going to hide from everyone she passed what she clutched against her breast.
"Here!" Pet yanked off her cardigan. "You can use this to cover it up a bit."
Quistis took it gratefully and then quickly said goodbye. Riding the elevator up to the third level - without bothering to stop by her room and drop off her newest acquisition as Squall would expect her to be punctual - this time she shook from more than the swaying of the lift.
She had broken protocol upon arriving in Balamb the evening before by neglecting to report to the Commander. In fact, she'd even considered not meeting him at all. But it had been ridiculous to think she could avoid the unavoidable. He had let it slide the weekend before when she'd been distraught over Nida's death, but this time she couldn't expect a similar reprieve.
But to his credit, he neither chastised her nor showed any disapproval when she entered his office moments later. Instead, he gave his usual curt nod towards a chair and after she sat, contemplated her for several long moments. Finally he spoke.
"About Nida-"
"Do we have to talk about it?" she asked.
He jerked a little in his chair, the muscles in his face briefly twisting into an anguished glower. "I suppose not. There's not much I can tell you anyway. But I want you to know how deeply I regret his loss."
"I'm sorry. I should never have encouraged you to-"
He sighed. "Quistis, it had actually been on my mind to use him long before you said a word. I knew how he felt. Everyone did." He shrugged. "It was my call to make and you of all people know that my decisions are rarely influenced by others."
She gave him a slight smile. "Except for Rinoa," she murmured.
His face relaxed. "Except for her."
"Squall, we really don't need to talk about it."
"I guess I just wanted to abscond you from any guilt you might feel. I'm the Commander. Like I said, it was my call to make."
She nodded slowly. "Then I'll abscond you of yours. You did your best. You always do and I know you have our interests, as well as SeeD's, at heart."
"I do," he nodded. "Thanks for believing that."
Before preparing for an earlier departure than usual on Sunday evening - the Ragnarok was needed somewhere else the following morning - Quistis quietly slipped out to the cemetery, having not yet visited Nida's final resting place. Tiptoeing through the gate, she scanned each gravestone she passed, remembering something about each person lying beneath the ground. There weren't many names she didn't recognize, only a few, but even those she acknowledged with silent wishes of peace. She couldn't help but shiver, although blaming it on the wind that was stirring amongst the firs, as a vision of herself being lowered into the ground, resting forever in their company, assaulted her mind. But morbid thinking was never healthy, so she tried her best to battle the thought aside. For the moment, she reminded herself, she was alive.
But Nida was not. She nearly missed his grave, tucked away in a corner of the lot, as fallen leaves from the oak tree overhead had camouflaged the newly hewn soil. But he was there and she sat down beside him, thinking of his smile and laughter, and the kindness towards everyone he had possessed. It was almost impossible to believe that only a couple short weeks before he had been walking and talking to her, yet was now silenced forever, never again to be seen on the surface of the earth.
"I'm so sorry, Nida," she whispered, but the wind only answered, stirring her hair just a little, enough to tickle the nape of her neck. She smiled ruefully. Thinking about who he had been, she knew he'd only scold her for blaming herself. She was certain of it. He'd never begrudge her the loss of his life.
"Our world is strange, isn't it?" she asked. "Nothing makes much sense. You finally got what you wanted, but it only left you dead. And me? I don't even know what I want. I wish I did."
After awhile, she stood and stretched, contemplating the stone that marked his life. Reaching down, she idly ran her fingers upon the carved letters of his name. In a few years lichen would begin to grow in the crevices. It always did so, here in the moist air of Balamb. "Nida Addison," she whispered. "Someday we'll meet again."
Rinoa met her at the gate and enfolded Quistis into her typical absorbing hug. "Are you doing alright?" she asked.
"Yes, I think so," Quistis replied. "Well enough, anyway."
Rinoa nodded and frowned towards the now deserted cemetery. "You know," she replied somberly, "He's not really here."
"What do you mean?"
"Just that his body..." she shuddered. "Never mind."
"What do you mean?" Quistis asked again with more force, wishing she could shake her friend for voiding whatever peace she had gained that afternoon.
"There just wasn't anything left to collect..."
Quistis's tears began to pour. "I see," she choked. And she did. And it hardly mattered. Dead was dead, after all.
"I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't thinking. Squall would kill me if he knew I'd told you."
Quistis paid her no mind. Her throat ached, she felt weary and distressed, but she finally knew what it was that she wanted, if only temporarily. "Hyne, I just need to get back to Esthar. I can't be here right now."
"Esthar?"
Was she about to hyperventilate on the spot? "To Esthar...to Laguna," she answered wildly and from a deeper area of her brain, she realized she was acting particularly - and peculiarly - dramatic. With a shudder, she loosened anxiety's claw from about her throat.
"It's just that..." She quieted. "He laughs and I remember that there's some good in this world. He makes it better. I just want-"
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yes." Rinoa grabbed her hand, gave it a squeeze and then began to lead her back towards Garden, back to the place where her fears blurred with her dreams. "Well do I understand that sort of thing. And Quistis...I won't tell Squall."
The moment the Ragnarok touched down upon the pavement of the Estharian Airstation, Quistis felt relief spring her to her feet. Here in Esthar, under the glow of Laguna's smile, she could have a reprieve. Maybe even suck a little enjoyment out of life.
Yet in acknowledging to herself that she felt something for him, something more than friendship, or even simple attraction, she didn't necessarily know how to act. She didn't want him to know, yet she did. And she found her mind and nerves a jotted mess.
"What's in the bag?" Laguna asked minutes later. Together, flanked by four of his other bodyguards, they rode a plate lifter up to the executive offices. Quistis was wedged between two of the burly men, her satchel between her feet, and she hardly wanted to divulge its contents in their present company.
"Something quite important that needs looking into," she replied with a smile. Laguna slipped off his flip flop and toed it, his eyebrows rising several notches when he determined it was a book. To his credit, and her relief, he swallowed all further questions.
But once in the privacy of his office, he asked her again, following her over to the couch instead of properly seating himself at his desk.
"It's just a book," she replied placidly, taking a seat and pulling the bag onto her lap. Although it was unlikely that he would begin to sift through her things, with him, she just never knew.
But he remained standing at her feet. Apparently her answer refused to suffice and he seemed to be awaiting a better one. One she didn't feel like divulging. Perhaps she would try changing the subject.
"So how was your weekend?" she asked brightly, looking up into his face that was unfortunately becoming far too dear.
He held her look and smiled. "Pretty good, but I missed you. I really missed you."
"Oh!"
She didn't know what else to say. Indeed, she had felt a little rejected by his request to be alone the Friday before. She'd spent the day quietly enough - read, took a leisurely breakfast and lunch, and by the afternoon had even flipped on the abandoned television Zell used during his night shift - but up until she'd departed for Balamb, she'd hoped he'd come out of his room, and had even contemplated barging in on his privacy. But she knew her place and had put her own personal desires aside.
He smiled again - mysteriously, so she thought. Or was his smile triumphant? Because if it was...well, it wasn't as if he'd won anything of her yet - and finally sat down. Very close.
Inhaling deeply, suddenly, as in a daze he grabbed her arm and brought her wrist up towards his nostrils. "You smell lovely," he breathed.
"Um-um" She'd always told herself she'd never use such mumbling expressions as others often did, and here she was, um-ing furiously. Hyne, he could sometimes rattle her. "Um, my friend gave it to me."
"What is it?"
"I don't know," she lied. She thought of the many places she'd dabbed the oil - her wrist, her collarbone, behind her ear...
"I might have to sit beside you all day. You know, just to smell you and also..." he tugged a little at her bag, "discover what's inside."
"It's just a book," she said for the third time.
"A very large one. Don't tell me it's another SeeD manual, Quistis."
"Perhaps," she replied noncommittally. There were other things she'd prefer to discuss besides her enormous guide to sex. He'd eventually see it, of course, but the subject was a bit delicate between them.
"You're not budging, are you?"
She shook her head and again tried to change the subject. "So, was your day proficient enough, thinking about things last Friday?" she asked.
He grinned as he looked down at his sandals. "Yeah. I've got a new...flip on life."
"What?"
"I feel renewed. I know what I'm about, but also the road I have to travel by."
"Okay?" she said, nodding with exaggerated enthusiasm. "That's great." At least he seemed friendly and back to his usual jocularity. Perhaps he really had figured out whatever it was he'd needed to. And yet...she'd sort of liked the brooding intensity he'd shown the other night. Today it was as if his teasing was a little forced.
"I think so," he replied.
They both sat there in silence for several moments until his hand began brushing the straps of her bag. Her olive drab, canvas bag. Then slowly he began to unbuckle it.
She gulped. Surely he wasn't undressing her satchel. And shame on her for finding the sensuality in such a thing.
She smartly rapped his wrist. "Laguna!"
"Come on!" He was adorable. And for the millionth time she mutely asked what had happened to herself. She was clearly losing her mind.
"You should get to your work," she said, trying to sound as stern and dismissive as in the former days of her instructorship.
He stretched, casually throwing an arm over her shoulder. It made her nervous. "I'm not too busy today."
"Are you ever?"
"Sometimes, but lately Kiros's been taking over the majority of things."
Of course, Kiros. She decided that since they were on the subject of his friend, she'd let him sit beside her a moment longer. Besides, she would never tell him so, but he smelled quite nice as well. Like bay leaf aftershave and coffee and well, like a man.
His playful demeanor departed and he removed his arm. "It's part of the new vice president thing," he said slowly, leaning his head back against the cushions and closing his eyes. "He's a remarkable vice-president..." he trailed off with the ghost of a smile.
She'd thought about Kiros several times that weekend, still surprised by his behavior at the Hope Event. It was obvious that Arya Bellinni had created a rift between he and Laguna, not an unlikely circumstance, as such things had been happening since the beginning of time. But she still couldn't figure out why Kiros had been so passionate against Laguna's relationship with her. If Laguna were taken, Arya would have to move on.
But then, she quickly reminded herself, she wasn't really in a relationship with Laguna. Nor was she ever likely to be.
"Did Kiros run anything before he was the vice president?" she asked.
Laguna winced. "Yes, a good bit, at least. That's why it was better to get him some sort of official title. I just don't have a mind for politics. Am not much of a president. I tried at first, but..." He used laughter to try veiling his disappointment with himself, but she wasn't fooled. "I'm just a simple man, Quistis."
"On the surface, perhaps. And that's what I actually like about you," she replied. And she realized she meant it. At first she'd been put off by his nonchalant attitude towards the running of his own country, but if there were others to do it for him, then why not? And their judgment seemed fairly sound; Esthar was thriving and its people well-content. If he thought he could trust his friend...
Again she contrasted Laguna to Squall, whom Rinoa often complained worked far too much, certain no one could get the job done as well as he. But in actuality there were others who could, and if not as initially perfect, with practice, they'd get it right.
"I'm not sure that you liked it at first," he said, mirroring her thoughts. He began to twirl his sandals between the tips of his toes. She watched him in amusement. He had way too much energy and she was surprised he had lasted as long as he had, cooped up daily inside an office, no matter how large, how plush, or how nice. And the slight pallor of his cheeks...he really needed to get outdoors more. He was made for the open air.
"No, and there's still a part of me that can't understand it, but perhaps that's why I like it all the same."
"Maybe." He pressed a little closer, and this time as his fingers again brushed her bag, they slipped a little and fell against her thigh. For a second she forgot to breathe.
"So, uh, what's the book?" he asked.
"You're relentless," she whispered.
"Well, I'm interested in everything about you."
They were simple, honest words, yet combined with his smile, they drained away her poise, her self possession, her gravity...indeed, she suddenly felt light. But she was never one to give in so easily, nor was she sure she was ready for this after all.
So naturally she once again changed the subject.
"Why do you always wear the same outfit?" she asked. "You know, blue shirt, khakis and those flip flops?"
He shook his head. "You're stubborn."
"Well, I'm interested in everything about you," she replied, trying her best to sound flippant and coy. But it was a dismal failure and only came out sounding shrill and insincere.
He winced and then stood, took the bag from her lap, and quietly placed it next to her on the couch. She felt naked without her makeshift shield.
"You know," he said, "I wish that to be true. I understand it's probably not, but..." His gaze shifted beyond her and he looked more than a little lost. It was moments like these that a certain loneliness sprang from him, and she saw more than he generally liked to let on. "But it would be something, you know?"
"Laguna-" she began softly, but he gave a short laugh, leaned over and ruffled her hair before leaving her to settle in at his desk.
A moment later, after he'd read over a few notes that his secretaries had left him that morning, he leaned forward and folded his hands. "I have two flaws. Well, actually I have thousands..." He grinned. "Two of them are that I'm color blind and also quite clueless when it comes to fashion. Oh, and I like to be comfortable."
"That's three," she stated primly.
He only smiled. "Think so?"
She nodded and he continued. "So one day while wearing this amazing outfit - it is amazing, isn't it? - I was unexpectedly complimented several times. Somehow I'd gotten it right. So I had Eva order duplicates. And as for my flips, I like to wiggle my toes."
"Wiggle you toes?"
"Well, after all those years in combat boots..."
It was well after lunch that she hesitantly opened up her bag and pulled out the ridiculously enormous book. Laguna, still seated at his desk, quickly looked up with interest, but then mockingly covered his eyes. She snorted.
"Go ahead and take your look. But don't say a word."
"Right." He stretched a bit from his chair and peered across the room to read the over-sized red letters printed upon its cover. He stared at them blankly for several seconds, but when it finally dawned on him what the book was, plopped back into his seat with a whoosh.
"Quistis?" he groaned.
"Yes?"
"You're killing me."
She was silent for a moment, but then couldn't help but tease him just a little. "But how else am I supposed to find out about it?"
"That's hardly the way to learn," he replied dryly.
"No one seems to want to take up my education."
A dismayed look flit across his face. "You've asked others?"
"Of course not," she huffed. "Only you." She looked down at the book, opened it and began to read. But what she read failed to register within her brain. Every L popped out at her and it stood for only one thing. Maybe two. In exasperation, she finally shook her head and looked up. He was staring at her. "Laguna?" she murmured, deciding there and then to go beyond herself and explore whatever it was she was feeling. "It will only ever be you."
"Only me?" he intoned.
"Yes," she admitted. "I've told you before, this life of mine can't continue on for long. It just can't at this pace, this rate. And somehow I know that I'll never meet anyone like you again."
He was silent as if considering her words. But then he stood, slowly, and she stood slowly as well. Forever they seemed to study each other, but in the end she was the first to look away.
"Laguna-"
He slowly stepped away from his chair and began to circle his desk until he was leaning against its front side. Warily, he continued to study her and she realized that he needed her to come those extra few steps. He was just as puzzled in the way to progress with things as was she.
So she did and with a sigh, he wrapped his arms around her waist and let his chin rest upon the top of her head. She buried her face in his chest.
"But you won't commit, right?" he murmured, stroking her back with an uneven, flustered gate.
As always, he wanted to put a permanence behind any of their thoughts, feelings or actions.
"I can't. I've committed to SeeD," she replied, but her voice was ladled with uncertainty and her brain rattled with confusion. It was so hard to think logically with him so near.
"You know," he said softly, "I'm not so sure that I can either."
Her head flung back and she regarded him with surprise. "Why not?"
"Because-" He flinched a little and then shook his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is now."
"And what should we do now?"
"Not sure," he smiled a little, shyly. "All I'm sure about is the need to kiss you."
He leaned down and she stretched up, sure that fireworks would soon explode, or the heavens open to pour down a sunbeam of love, or some other such nonsense such as she'd read over the past few weeks.
But it was nothing of the sort. "Damn!" he suddenly cried, throwing himself away from her, certainly not the response she'd expected. "My leg!"
He hobbled over to the couch and flung himself upon it, writhing a little and rubbing his leg until the spasm subsided. It took him several moments to regain speech, however, in which time, Quistis quietly joined him on the couch and sat down at his feet.
He finally groaned, sitting up. "So much for trying to be smooth. I should have known better. I'm never smooth. The guys always laugh at me on account of it and you are just, well, way too beautiful. Way too beautiful to sensibly kiss, that is."
She heard his frustration, and while yes, the leg cramp had obviously broken the mood, she couldn't help but be glad it had happened.
"Laguna, I don't want you to be smooth. I want you to be you and..." Her words were suddenly becoming rushed. She'd come so close to experiencing her first kiss and she'd be damned to not let it happen now. "Please kiss me?"
"You like kissing morons?"
With a giggle, she nodded and shifted over to sit on his lap. Wriggling her bottom a little to settle in more comfortably, she bit her lip when he again began to groan.
"I-I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what to do. I'm awkward, aren't I? I'll just admit it, I've never kissed a man and I'm not sure how. All the books and resources aren't helping me at the moment, although I'm trying to recall exactly the best way to go about it and...I'm mumbling." She placed a finger to her lips and frowned. "I never mumble." Her forehead creased. "What are you doing to me?"
He laughed. "Hyne, I love you," he said, leaning close, the warmth of his breath fanning her face. She knew he had only said the word lightly, his intent being more to jest than of the truth, but still, her breaths quickened as his lips came closer and closer.
"We both just need to relax," he whispered and then began to gently nibble at her lower lip. She mutely nodded and-
Her stomach flipped; the blood rushed to her head. Her arms fell like dead weights at her side. Yet she dimly knew they should be around his neck - that was the fitting way to go about such things - so gathering every bit of her will that was left, she placed them there, sighing a little with pleasure when they soon ended up tangled in his hair. And all she allowed herself to think on were the sensations she was experiencing and nothing more. Nothing more at all.
"Do you have anything pressing this afternoon," he murmured several minutes, or perhaps even hours later, "beyond reading that book?" She didn't care to answer, not desiring to break apart or even to speak. Instead she only made a noise she hoped was an adequate no. "Me neither." The vibrations of his laughter pounded in her ears.
Then his intercom began to buzz. "Damn," he said.
She drunkenly got off of his lap in order for him to reach the phone at his desk. Watching him, admiring him, ogling him, she wished he were back with her on the couch-conceding how shameless she was certainly acting- as he picked up the phone.
His voice was a little brighter than usual, and more than a little breathless.
"What? Sam Carpenter? No, tell him I'm busy today." He raked his bangs in frustration. "I know I promised the Vice-President, but tell Mr. Carpenter my schedule's entirely filled up for the week. In fact, Eva, cancel everything else on it too. I might be out of the office."
There were several high pitched squeals to which he shakily laughed. "You're a peach and I thank you for it from the bottom of my heart." He laughed again. "Also, I'm going to be, um, writing all afternoon. Unless it's urgent, I'd like to not be bothered...thanks." He hung up and from across the room met Quistis's eyes.
Whatever he saw in them seemed to compel him. Soon he was back at the couch, pulling her down beside him. "I know we shouldn't be doing this, but I don't care. Even if it ends up killing me, I just don't care."
"Me either," she murmured against his throat.
"I plan to kiss you 'til quittin' time."
She giggled. "Good. I think I might need the practice," she replied and he slid his arms down her shoulders.
"Will you at least take this off...it's a little stiff and, well, reminds me of certain things, such as why you're really here," he said, speaking of her uniform jacket. In answer, she began to unbutton it, amazed at how her fingers fumbled at the task she could usually accomplish under the most severest of circumstances. He was right. The cloth was scratchy and uncomfortable and today she wanted to be free of it if for only awhile.
She was left in a soft, almost sheer, white blouse and this time he sighed when he again made acquaintance with her shoulders. "Much better," he whispered, running his lips down her throat.
The leather of the sofa grew warm beneath her body pressed into his. Yet he always remained the gentleman, never taking liberty to caress her in all the places that burned to be touched. But overall she was satisfied, finding that for now, it was enough. Part of her feared that he was attempting to woo her towards something more lasting and indissoluble, but then she remembered he'd said he could no more easily commit, and oddly felt reassured. This was sweet, there was no doubt of it, but-
"Stop thinking," he whispered into her ear, and then looked into her eyes with a smile.
"Okay."
It was later when Laguna realized that they were five minutes past their usual time of leaving. Abruptly pulling away, he'd squinted towards the clock, groaned and then pulled her in for another quick kiss. "We have to go, Quistis," he said. She checked her wristwatch and then sprung off the couch with a curse.
"I'm late often enough. It's hardly a big deal," he laughed softly, stopping to watch with evident appreciation her pull on her jacket, straighten her skirt and slip on her heels.
She turned to give him a stern admonishment, but instead let out a moan of dismay. "Laguna, you are completely disheveled. It's only going to be too obvious as to what was going on."
He grinned. "Well, at least I don't have any hickies." He then cocked his head as if considering something. "I-uh don't, right?"
She crimsoned. "I don't think so. Here, let me look." She pulled back his hair that had long since fallen out of its tie and sighed in relief. "No, thank heavens."
"Well, you do."
"What?" she gasped, lifting her hands up to her neck. She suddenly realized that her hair was also tangled about her face. "Laguna," she said with desperation.
He sobered. "I'm only kidding, Quistis." He quickly jotted over to the bathroom, disappeared within and then came out and threw her a brush. "Here. Let me use it after you. As for my shirt..." He then walked over and triumphantly pulled open a closet, revealing several other blue linen shirts.
Unbuttoning his shirt and then stuffing it back into the closet, he quickly grabbed a clean one and put it on. "In case of emergencies, you know?" he grinned, fingering the last of his buttons.
Quistis had only a few short seconds to inspect his naked chest, but in those moments knew she was thoroughly screwed. He was gorgeous. So masculine. And if things kept progressing...
He was back at her side and was gently removing the brush from her hands. In her addled-mindedness she'd forgotten to use it. He spun her around and gently began to comb through her golden hair.
"So beautiful," he breathed and his breath fanned the back of her neck. She melted against him and he slid his arms about her and her worries over being late - or even should others suspect - were entirely wiped away.
But they quickly came back the moment they finally stepped out of his office. Laguna put on his quick, easy grin and Quistis's demeanor was like that of an ice queen's. Both were sure they played the part of innocence quite well, but weren't privy to the muffled giggles and gestures left in their wake. And it was for the best. With that awareness, she might have lost her nerve entirely.
As it was, her volume of "The Big Book of Sex" had been, in their haste to leave, left lying forgotten on the floor. And it would be several days before she remembered it again.
Another A/N - As I said before, thanks for reading. I really, really appreciate it. And if you are maybe beginning to like the Laguna/Quistis love, a friend of mine here on , The Sky Pirate Girl, wrote one herself. And I''m quite partial to it. So check it out! s/8132474/1/Le_Chevalier
If I have the link wrong, or it doesn't work, it's called Le Chevalier. So, so lovely. :)