A/N: Don't kill me for the content in this. Consider that a warning.

7. Head Trip

Rinoa stared dismally at the television screen in the hotel room, as Jax lie sprawled on his stomach across the floor, Xbox controller clutched in his hands.

"Fuckin' Hunters," Jax grunted for the twelfth time at his game of Halo.

Rinoa sighed, sitting up from where she'd been lying on the bed. She was getting damned tired of this. She'd spent so much time in this hotel room since they'd arrived weeks before, that cabin fever was an excruciating understatement. If she'd known anything about what was in this town, and more people to hang out with, it wouldn't have been so bad.

There was always the Wooden Nickel, but she could only handle so much torture, and that's undeniably what it was becoming. Torture. Every time she'd seen Squall in the last week, since their near-romp in the business office, her mind would immediately careen toward the image of his lips barely touching hers... it was frustrating, to say the least. She couldn't stop thinking about it, really, even when he wasn't around.

She had nowhere to go to get her mind off of it, and the more time she spent in this tiny room, the more she dwelt on it. She just couldn't let it get the better of her. She wouldn't.

"Jax, are we ever going to move into an actual... place?" she asked, warily.

"We are in a place, Rinny," he replied, his eyes still on the screen. "We're getting a monthly rate, after all. It's just like an apartment. It's homey."

"Yeah. A whole two hundred square feet of orange shag carpet and no kitchen. It's a dream."

Jax just rolled his eyes and continued playing his game.

Rinoa gritted her teeth, and stood. "Well, I'm gonna take a shower." It was better than doing nothing.

When she didn't receive a reply of any kind, she shuffled her bare feet across the floor and into the bathroom, closing the door. She turned the water on in the shower, taking a deep breath, and turned to the mirror.

Her eyes settled on her reflection, and she began to pull the sticks from her hair, letting it fall around her face. She looked down and placed them on the counter before her, and removed her glasses, as well. When she looked up again, she blinked at the softly blurred image before her.

Squall was there, standing behind her, that knowing smirk on his lips. He stepped close to her, his hand reaching up slowly, to touch her shoulders. She closed her eyes, sucking in a breath, anticipating the contact. When none came, she opened her eyes again and, to her disappointment, found that he wasn't there.

She imitated his smirk to herself in the mirror, and reached for the hem of her shirt, then pulled it over her head. Keeping her gaze on her own eyes, she slipped her gray skirt down over her hips, letting it fall to the floor.

She reached behind her, to unclasp her bra, but then hesitated. It was silly. She knew it was, but she couldn't help it, didn't want to. She closed her eyes, indulging herself, imagining the touch was his. His fingers unhooking the garment, pulling the straps gently down her shoulders, then off of her completely, dropping it to the floor. His fingers grazing her hips, hooking into the sides of her panties, sliding them down her legs and then off to join the rest of her discarded clothing.

When she finally opened her eyes, she saw the mirror was becoming steamy from the shower and she stepped into the basin, letting the hot water envelope her. She got her hair thoroughly wet, then began to shampoo it, closing her eyes again, to avoid getting the soap in them.

Her thoughts immediately returned to him, and she once again allowed herself to imagine him there with her, his hands on her, gently washing her hair. When she opened her eyes again, he was there, in front of her, close to her, his brown hair wet, strands clinging to his face.

She looked up at him, into his ice blue eyes, which in turn were intently focused on hers. He was inching closer, his lips millimeters from hers, and she could feel him, the heat of his body in front of hers, his breath against her face.

He lips finally reached her, kissing her gently, then boldly as his tongue entered her mouth, his body moving in against her, pinning her against the cold blue tile. She could feel him, all of him, letting her feel how badly he wanted her, and she drank it in, letting her hands glide up his back and then back down again, clutching his slick body against hers.

His face dipped to her neck, his lips and tongue kissing and suckling at her, his hands sliding up her sides, massaging and groping her. Her breath became ragged her head lulled back against the tile. He raised his head and looked at her expectantly, and she knew what he wanted. "Yes..."

He grasped her hips and lifted her, her legs instinctively wrapping around him, and she immediately felt him sliding into her, planting himself deeply, her back pressed hard against the shower wall. A desperate moan involuntarily escaped her, and she hoped that Jax hadn't heard it from outside the bathroom.

Jax.

Her eyes flew open and she was alone, her body trembling, heat pooled in her groin. Oh fuck...

She wondered if she had really moaned aloud and giggled at the thought, then quickly resumed rinsing shampoo from her hair. Minutes later, she finished her shower and stepped out, wrapping a thin white towel around her body. She glanced around the bathroom and realized that she hadn't brought a change of clothes in with her. It wasn't such a big deal, but frankly, she wasn't sure she was ready to walk out and see Jax so soon after her little experience in the shower. Oh well.

She wiped some of the fog from the mirror, seeing her flushed appearance and she found herself smirking once more. She combed her hair slowly, giving herself time to cool off, and briefly dried it with the hair dryer the hotel provided on the wall, just enough to keep it from dripping everywhere. She slipped her glasses back on, and ensuring the towel was tightly secured around her, she opened the bathroom door, seeing Jax still playing his game.

His dark eyes darted up to her and a grin appeared on his lips. "Well, hey there."

Rinoa gave him a weak smile, and hurried to the small closet, opening the door, and ever so slightly hiding behind it as she grabbed a pair of jeans from a hanger along with a small black tee shirt.

"I like the towel, myself," Jax spoke into her ear, evidently having crept up behind her. His hands slid around her, one of them snaking its way inside the towel, and her body stiffened.

Jax didn't seem to notice her trepidation and continued his way in, placing his mouth at the base of her neck, kissing the sensitive skin.

Rinoa shivered at the contact in spite of herself, her eyes fluttering closed, her thoughts instantly returning to Squall. She released a long breath, feeling the heat return between her legs, and she found herself pressing back against him.

He purred against her, both of his hands invading the towel now, stroking her body, groping her, coming up to release the towel's knot and letting it fall to the floor. She moaned as he gently kneaded her breasts, then moved lower, two of his fingers inching their way down to touch her slick center. His fingers moved against the engorged skin in slow, tantalizing circles, and her head fell back to lean on his shoulder.

His mouth continued his exploration of her neck, his fingers increasing in pace, drawing another moan from her. He pressed his groin against her, and then stopped his ministrations, opting instead to turn her around.

She felt herself being turned, her mouth immediately being assaulted with his before she even could register what was happening. She submitted to his invasion of her mouth, her thoughts on the way he'd kissed her in the shower, on the slow and gentle way he'd treated her. This time was not slow and gentle, however, and Rinoa found herself wondering why it felt so different, so rough. Squall doesn't have facial hair.

Her eyes cracked open and she quickly returned to reality. She was kissing Jax, naked, half way inside the small closet, her clothes still in hand. Her eyes widened and her body immediately tensed.

Jax either didn't notice, or didn't care, pulling her hard against him as he kissed her forcefully. This was the way he normally did things, so Rinoa couldn't figure out why this suddenly felt so odd. Because you were imagining someone else, Rinoa.

She fought a grimace, suddenly feeling very awkward and exposed, and she jerked away from him with more disdain than she'd hoped to display. She quickly grasped the towel from the floor and wrapped it around herself.

Jax stared at her, incredulous. "What... the fuck?"

"I... I'm getting a headache," she mumbled, her eyes avoiding his, "I'm sorry."

He stepped closer, his face inches from hers, "No, no... you were all into it a minute ago."

"And I started getting a headache," she insisted. She felt awful lying to him, but hell, wasn't she sort of lying already?

He was silent for a long moment, then his expression became dark.

"Are you fuckin' around?" he snarled.

She backed up, trying to give herself room to breathe, not entirely surprised to hear that question. Well, at least she technically wouldn't be lying now. "No, Jax."

"You sure?" he pressed, his brow furrowed, angrily.

Rinoa's temper began to creep up and now she was stepping closer. Sure, she'd come close, but she still hadn't, and all because she hadn't wanted to be unfaithful to him. "Yes, I'm sure, and fuck you for even asking."

So it was a little much. She was getting pissed, though, and after all the effort she'd made to do the right thing, it got to her that he'd so easily doubt her. Her mind and body were wracked with all kinds of mixed feelings at this point, and being rational just didn't look like an option.

"I'm not the one acting all shifty," he threw back. The two of them hadn't been intimate in weeks, and by God, he wasn't going to let it go so easy.

Rinoa stood agape for a moment. She was acting shifty? He'd been the one progressively working more and more into ungodly hours of the night, after all, so damned if he was going to give her shit.

"I'm not acting shifty, I have a headache, God damn it," she growled. "And I'm not the one who's been working nearly sixty hours a week out of the blue. You tell me what the hell is going on!"

Jax's mouth twitched angrily, and he opened it to speak, then snapped it shut again.

"What, Jax?" she persisted, tauntingly. "Been busy at the office?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," he hissed. He backed away from her face, grabbed his black bomber jacket from the closet behind her and his office badge from the small entry counter, and stormed to the door.

"Right, go back to 'work'," Rinoa spat venomously.

Not even offering a moment's hesitation, he swung the door open and slammed it shut behind him, his hard footsteps thundering down the hall.

Rinoa stared at the door for several moments, trying to steel her body from shaking. No, no, not now.

She breathed deeply, then broke her gaze from the door, taking in the room. The TV was still on, and calmly she walked over and shut it off, then the Xbox, then dropped the clothes that she still held onto the bed and got dressed.

When that was done, she stepped into the bathroom, scooped up the clothes she'd left on the floor and threw them into the large trash bag they'd been using as a hamper. She meticulously swept the comb through her hair once more, brushed her teeth, applied antiperspirant, a little mascara, and picked up her chopsticks.

She brought them up to her hair, intending to sweep it up into her standard knot, but stopped. She rarely wore her hair down anymore, and now seemed as good a time as any for a little change.

Blankly, she gave herself a last glance, walked into the bedroom, shoved her feet into her favorite black sneakers, grabbed her purse and walked out the door.

When she arrived on the first floor, she poked her head out from inside the elevator before she stepped out, wanting to be sure that Jax wasn't just sulking in the lobby. The room was empty with the exception of the desk clerk, and she straightened up and headed for the front door.

As she exited the building and looked across the street at Squall's apartment building, she felt the nerves she'd been trying to suppress well up, and her body threatened to tremble again. She took a calming breath, checked the street for oncoming Sunday traffic, and when it was clear, she crossed the street. When she approached the building, she walked around the corner and scanned the parking lot until her eyes settled on the rusted Falcon.

Satisfied, she turned back around, and very slowly began to ascend the staircase that led to Squall's apartment. With every step, she struggled harder and harder to contain the nervousness that had been threatening to overcome her, and by the time she reached his door, she was shaking like a leaf.

With her trembling hand, she quickly rapped on the door three times, swearing her throat was going to constrict and choke her if he didn't answer soon.

It was too much. Her mind was a mess, and she knew that she'd break out into a sweat at any moment, and maybe her body would crumple up, and she'd be curled in the corner before long. She would hyperventilate, maybe was already doing it, she wasn't sure. She was going to die, she knew it. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she swore it would explode if it kept up that pace.

Finally, hope came when the door opened.

"Hey, Rin--... Rinoa, are you all right?" Squall asked, concern all over his face at the sight of her panicked expression.

"Squall," she breathed, in her equally overwhelming relief.


A/N: Yeah... weird, huh? So, it was mildly smutty... meh... you can handle it. There's more story to come... soon. Love ya!

BTW... I went back and edited all of the previous chapters. There are only slight changes here and there, most of you probably won't notice, but I thought I'd tell you anyway.