Author's note: A shorter chapter. I'm attempting to write in way that invites reading between the lines, but I'm concerned that it might just be too boring. I'll be finishing this and moving on to something new regardless, but I hope you enjoy it.
I know Cactus Jack and Ami didn't have any lyrics in the game. Call it artistic license. :)
Chapter 10: Felicitas
Seifer was bent over the hostess' podium, perusing the reservation list when Squall and Rinoa walked through the door. It Had to be You floated without a sense of irony across the café, Raijin's staccato key presses and the singer's sultry voice providing a soundtrack for the scene unfolding. Seifer glances up and takes the cigarette out of his mouth to shake Squall's hand and greet the couple.
"Good evening."
"Good evening." Squall returned the greeting over firm shake. "You see, here we are again." His voice was filled with more ethos than a monotone should have.
"I'll take that as a great compliment to Raijin." He looks at Rinoa. "To you I suppose he means a Timber of, well, happier days."
Squall studies the surroundings as his wife responds quietly. "He does. Could we have a table close to him?"
"And as far away from Major Martine as possible?" Squall added.
The owner squints at the layout, frowning. "The geography may be a little difficult to arrange…" He snaps his fingers loudly for the headwaiter. "Paul! Table thirty!"
He arrived instantly. "Yes, sir. Right this way, if you please."
"I'll ask Raijin to play As Time Goes By. I believe that's your favorite song."
Rinoa smiles as she walks toward her table. "Thank you."
The dulcet tones of the song playing ended abruptly as her song started up. Seifer lifting his head and Raijin shaking his as his boss walked away.
"Two cognacs please." Paul took the order from Squall before sweeping away.
Meanwhile, Seifer had stalked off to the roulette table and stood at its side. He watched as the croupier addressed Jan, the other half of the couple from Winhill trying to make their way to Esthar without pulling a shadow over their marriage. Jan was playing with his three remaining 50 gil chips, looking bewildered.
"Do you wish to place another bet sir?"
He sighed. "No, I guess not."
A significant glance passed between Seifer and the croupier. The club's namesake spoke up, making sure the refugee could hear him. "Have you tried twenty-two tonight? I said twenty-two."
Jan turned to Seifer behind him, looked down at his chips, shrugged, and placed them on the black square labeled "22."
The croupier spins the wheel. Selphie looks on, enchanted.
"Twenty-two, black. Twenty-two." The croupier announced the winner and pushes a heavy pile of chips into the middle of the table. Irvine looked up from a nearby table, scowling.
Jan reaches out to rake them in.
"Leave them there." Seifer commanded. Selphie's eyes were practically twinkling. Irvine's smoldered, and Jan's were dumb with shock. He nodded.
There are no voices when the wheel spins again. It stops and the ball lands. Twenty-two, black.
Another huge pile of chips moves to the middle of the table.
Seifer's gruff voice broke the silence. "Now cash it in and don't come back." Jan struggles to carry all the chips away and collect his winnings.
A customer complains to Selphie. "Are you sure this place is honest?"
"Honest! As honest as the day is long!" She answered fervently.
The croupier gave Seifer an inscrutable look as he walked over. "How are we doing tonight?"
"Well, a couple ten thousand worse than I thought we would be." Seifer smiled a little smile and walked to the door to the saloon.
Jan's wife met him before he could make it out and launched herself at him. He met the ferocious hug stiffly. He gently pried her away. "Oh, mister Seifer, I –"
"- He's just a lucky guy."
Selphie sidled over to him, solicitously, green eyes gleaming. "Mister Seifer, may I get you a coffee?"
"No, thank you Selphie."
"Oh, Seifer!"
Seeing that the refugee couple has won, Irvine rises and follows Seifer out of the gambling room. The couple stops him before he can escape.
"Captain Kinneas, may I –" Jan was cut off.
Irvine addressed them irritably. "-Oh, not here, please. Come to my office in the morning. We'll do everything business-like."
Jan grinned. "We'll be there at six."
"I'll be there at ten." He sighs not unkindly. "I'm very happy for you both. Still, it is very strange that you won." He looks over to Seifer and softens a little. "Well, maybe not so strange."
"Thank you so much, Captain Kinneas."
At the bar, Selphie runs under the swinging table/door and whispers to Gilbert's ear.
"No!" The bartender shouted. He trots over to his boss, seizes him, and quickly kisses him on both cheeks. "Boss. You've done a beautiful thing."
"Go away you crazy Trabian!"
Selphie pours Seifer a brandy as he surreptitiously steals glances in Rinoa's direction. Irvine approaches him at the bar.
"Just as I suspected. You're a rank sentimentalist."
"Yeah? Why?"
"Why do you interfere with my little romances?" He rejoined, chidingly.
Seifer shrugged and drank. "Chalk it up as a gesture to love."
Irvine was quick to regain is good-natured spirit. "Well, I forgive you this time. But I'll be in tomorrow night with a breathtaking blonde, and it will make me very happy if she loses." He smiles and walks away, only to be replaced immediately with Squall.
"Mister Almasy, I wonder if I could talk to you?"
"Go ahead."
Squall rubs the faint scar on his forehead, unwittingly copying the man in front of him. "Well, isn't there some other place? It's rather confidential, what I have to say."
"My office."
"Right."
Squall and Seifer sit in his office, the former leaning forward with his arms on his thighs, the latter sitting back with his arms draped over the couch. Both are still holding snifters and Squall accepted a lighted cigarette.
"You must know it's very important I get out of Dollet. It's my privilege to be one of the leaders of a great movement. You know what I have been doing. You know what it means to the work, to the lives of thousands and thousands of people that I be free to reach Esthar and continue my work." Squall sounded almost rehearsed and certainly much more garrulous in nature than usual.
"I'm not interested in politics. The problems of the world are not my department. I'm a saloon keeper."
"My friends in the underground tell me you have quite a record. You ran guns to Centra. You fought the fascists in Deling City."
Seifer lifted his arms off the sofa back. "What of it?"
"Isn't it strange that you always happened to be fighting on the side of the underdog?"
"Yes. I found it a very expensive hobby, too. But then, I never was much of a businessman." He rises and Squall follow's suit.
"Are you enough of a businessman to appreciate an offer of one million gil?"
"I appreciate it, but I won't accept it."
"I'll raise it to two million."
"My friend, you could make it ten million or thirty, my answer would still be the same."
Squall frowned. "There must be some reason you won't let me have them."
"There is. I suggest you ask your wife."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said, 'ask your wife.'"
A group a male voices singing below distract their conversation. They both walk out to the balcony outside his office that overlooks the café. A group of Galbadian soldiers were standing and singing "Cactus Jack," the Galbadian national anthem.
The scar on Squall's face began to stand out. His lips tighten into a straight line as he listens to the song, Seifer leaning on the railing, watching the events unfold. Squall starts down the steps purposefully and marches to the orchestra, passing by Rinoa's table and Quistis, face down, staring at the drink she stirs.
"Play Ami! Play it!"
Members of the orchestra glance toward the steps, looking for Seifer. He nods. The band strikes up the tune as Squall sings alongside the house entertainment, his motions and passion convincing many others to join with them.
Martine stands and attempts to conduct the Galbadians in song, but soon gives up, drowned out by the increasing fervor. Quistis had risen, adding her voice, as Ami continued on, tears of newly rediscovered conviction in her eyes. Rinoa looked proudly at her beau.
Soon the entire rest of the café joined in exalted song, ending it on a high, triumphant note. Several Trabian officers walk over to offer Squall a drink.
In the corner where the Galbadians were grouped, Martine fumed. He stalks over to the bar where Irvine stands, a carefully composed picture of indifference. "You see what I mean? If Leonhart's presence in a cafe can inspire this unfortunate demonstration, what more will his presence in Dollet bring on? I advise that this place be shut up at once."
"But everyone's having such a good time."
"Yes. Much too good a time. This place is to be closed."
"But I have no excuse to close it."
"Find one!"
Irvine put his hands up in defeat. After a short time, he seemed to reach a decision and brought his whistle to his lips. He blew fiercely.
Everyone was silent and looked toward the prefect.
