Disclaimer: Once again, nothing in Squaresoft is mine. I wouldn't mind if they hired me, though!

Ecstasy is all you need

Livin' in the big machine

Oh, you're so vain

Now your world is way too fast

Nothing's real and nothing lasts

And I'm aware

I'm in love, but you don't care

Turn your anger into lust

I'm still here but you don't trust at all

And I'll be waiting

I'm not the one who broke you

I'm not the one you should fear

What do you got to move you darling

I thought I lost you somewhere

But you were never really ever there at all.

-Goo Goo Dolls, "Big Machine"

Chapter 11

"Instructor! Aren't I your favorite student?" –Seifer

"Not anymore." –Quistis

Seifer squinted through the snow. He could just make out the top of garden cresting the next hill, half-hidden. The slime that coated them both had long ago hardened into a freezing crust, the putrid shell glued to their skins by the icy Trabian winds. His lips were chapped and bleeding, and the coat he was wearing didn't do much insulating when the down was matted in monster entrails. He didn't even bother to lift his feet any longer, but instead, tiredly plowed them through the powdery drifts.

Magic was a very draining weapon, one that took more energy than physical fighting itself, and he had junctioned too rapidly for his own 'magic metabolism' to keep up. As a result, he was now tired and sagging with exhaustion. His nerves shivered, bundled against his bones the way they always did after overexerting himself in casting. It had been awhile. Magic had never been something he'd firmly relied on, but he was beginning to appreciate its finer points.

He glanced over at Quistis, whose lips were fairly turning blue. The front of her jacket was a big, bloody mess, and her hair was stiff with Marlboro slime, like hair gel gone terribly wrong. Tiredly, she trudged through the snow, feet dragging as she gripped her whip at her side, the dark leather rope coiled in her palm. He'd wanted to make some smart-ass comment about her new hair gel, but was quick to realize that he was just as soaked in the shit as she was. Sad, but he didn't feel like picking on her.

Must be fucking tired, he thought ruefully, if I'm too exhausted to rip on Trepe.

"Here we are." She muttered as they reached the top, resting her hands on her knees for a moment. She'd wanted to give him a good SeeD sermon on barreling forth with physical attacks at monsters such as Marlboros as a first strike endeavor, but was currently too tired to conjure up a decent homily. It was a sad, sad day indeed when she couldn't muster up the energy to yell at Seifer Almasy, but there it was. All she wanted now was a hot shower and a clean bed.

And maybe a couple dozen painkillers.

Seifer squinted through the snow once again, feeling relieved. Garden's doors had never looked quite so welcoming.

He shuffled tiredly behind her through the front doors into the vehicle bay, stomping snow-laden shoes on the dry pavement as they made their way inside. Quistis yawned, quickly divesting herself of the soiled jacket as soon as Garden's heated insides welcomed them in. Seifer followed suit, peeling off his soiled jacket and draping it behind him. Stares and whispers accompanied them.

"Any other lessons for the day, Instructor?"

Quistis peeled her own jacket off, looking with disgust at the rapidly deteriorating suede fabric, courtesy of the Marlboro's somewhat acidic blood. She decided to ignore the 'Instructor' address.

"No, Seifer," she sighed. "Just get some rest and meet me in the second floor commons tomorrow."

"You should, too. You look like shit."

She tried in vain to shake the snow and grime from her jacket, but glanced up sharply at his statement. "Thank you. You know, Seifer, you look absolutely wonderful yourself."

His scowl turned upward, lips curving into a cocky smile. "I do what I can," he replied smoothly as he turned, attempting to run his fingers through his hair, scowl deepening as they caught in crusted filth.

She chuckled lightly at his retreating form, surprising herself. Twice in one day, Seifer Almasy had made her laugh. It had to be a record, if indeed one kept track of such things.

Twice, indeed. She shook her head.

She looked after him, wondering how someone could strut with green grime stuck all over their body. She had once theorized that even if one wrapped Seifer in cellophane, the boy would probably still manage to swagger. It was an improvement from a wounded slouch, anyway, and Quistis brightened at the idea, however slim, that she might have contributed to it. It was a start-

"Quistis!"

She turned to see an exuberant Selphie running towards her, or rather, struggling towards her, grasping Irvine Kinneas's hand and attempting to haul him behind her. Irvine, however, maintained his lethargic strut, forcing Selphie to practically run in place, shoes slipping on the polished marble floors. Selphie reminded Quistis of a poodle on speed, trying desperately to choke itself on the leash of an infinitely patient master.

Quistis just smiled tiredly at the approaching pair. She wasn't quite sure how Selphie and Irvine worked, but was grateful for the mechanism that kept them together all the same. They were, after all, two of her best friends, and seeing them together never failed to bring a smile to her lips. They were solid, simple (if not eccentric); a more than platonic poster child for the possible, peculiar happiness once could reap from another human being, even at a military academy.

If that happiness was not possible for Quistis herself, then she was happy to see those she loved in possession of it.

Eventually frustrated with her lethargic detainer, Selphie relinquished her boyfriend's hand and ran the rest of the way, boots sliding on the polished floor as she nearly passed Quistis by in her abrupt attempt at halting. Selphie grabbed her shoulder for support, but released it just as quickly.

"Eeek!" shrieked Selphie, staring with dismay at her now thoroughly gooey hand. She looked up at Quistis with horrified green eyes. "Quisty! What did you do to yourself?"

"Well-"

Irvine approached and lifted the brim of his hat to give her a once over, and for once, Quistis could be fairly certain that he wasn't looking beyond her clothes. He shook his head, holding his nose. "Quisty, lookin' beautiful as always. Although, I might inquire, what new scent you wearin'?"

"Eau de Marlboro, I'm afraid." Quistis chuckled at her friends' open look of horror. "Seifer and I ran into one on our exercise in the snowfields."

Irvine frowned. "A Marlboro? In Trabia? Seems a mite cold for it."

"I was as surprised as you are, Irvine," replied Quistis. "My guess is, though, this year the species encountered a boost, and to avoid victual competition, mature zygotes attached to the hulls of ships to relocate in the highly plausible event of a food shortage, dropped off probably just outside Trabia, and followed the food source-"

"Quisty, you're making my head hurt!" exclaimed Selphie, grabbing her friend's sticky arm. "Now, come on, you're coming to lunch with us! It's the least you can do after standing us up last night!"

"I'm sure my presence wasn't that missed," replied Quistis dryly. "Besides, Selphie, I have to shower-"

"You can shower in my room-it's closer anyways. Irvy, go save us a table." Insisted Selphie, casting a look back at her boyfriend as she dragged her only slightly resisting friend towards the dormitory wing. "Come on, Quisty!"

Irvine shrugged and smiled at Quistis, dark eyes filled with laughter. "Have fun," he mouthed, giving her a little bow as he set off for the cafeteria. She cast Irvine a dirty look over her shoulder. Some gentleman- couldn't he recognize a lady in distress?

She recognized that look in Selphie's eyes. Knowing Selphie, she was either hungry for gossip, or had some.

Either way, Quistis wasn't looking forward to being grilled. Or informed.

Selphie's eyes shone with a devilish light as she tossed Quistis a pair of pink fluffy towels. "So, why'd you miss our film party last night?"

Quistis frowned as she headed into Selphie's bathroom. "Didn't Xu come by and tell you?" she asked, wedging her soaked, thawing vest over her head.

"Well, she said something about taking a much needed break," said a voice right behind her. Quistis glared through the buttonholes, mid-pull, to see Selphie grinning up at her.

"Selphie, have you ever heard of the word, 'privacy'?" asked Quistis, annoyed.

"Nope!" replied her friend cheerfully, hopping up onto the counter and settling her hands on her chin. "Anyways, what's the real reason you didn't stop by?"

Quistis sighed, throwing the ruined top onto the floor and staring at the holes the acid had burned in her pants. So much for SeeD's 'indestructible' clothing line. "Because I was tired, Selphie," she replied, unlacing her boots and wedging the soaked black leather shoes from her tired, throbbing feet. "Why else?"

Selphie just giggled. "Well, Rinoa and I thought you might have 'male' company."

Quistis just gaped, pants in a tattered cotton heap around her ankles. "What?"

"Oh come on, Quisty, the 'break' excuse is the oldest in the book! Are you sure you didn't have anyone 'special' over?" She attempted a wink.

Quistis shook her head. "Selphie, I took some aspirin and went to bed."

"Is that what they're calling it now? Aspirin?" giggled her friend.

Quistis just sighed. She was too tired for this. "Selphie, I've been swamped with paperwork courtesy of Squall for the past three months, and the remainder of my time has been spent with Seifer-"

Selphie scrunched up her face, a disgusted purse to her lips. "You're sleeping with Seifer?" She cocked her head to the side, as if trying to envision the idea.

Quistis clapped a hand to her forehead. "No!" Selphie's distant look caused Quistis to try to follow her line of thought…….

…with disturbing results. Quistis quickly reeled her brain back in from its disturbing voyage.

Her brunette friend put up her hands. "Well, Quisty, if you see something in him, I guess he can't be ALL bad-"

"I didn't-" Quistis tripped on her tongue. Sleeping with Seifer?

"-well, he did blow up a big chunk of Trabia, and he did try to destroy Balamb, but like Irvy says-" Quistis frowned, trying to interject, but Selphie was already on a roll, her hyper-active brain already spinning tales of engagement parties and wedding showers. "…….don't worry, Quisty, your secret's safe with me!" She declared, hopping down from the counter to embrace her friend, ignoring the fact that the tall blonde in front of her was still slathered in rapidly thawing goo. Selphie pulled away, the front of her dress covered in an emerald-colored paste. The short brunette seemed too excited by the idea to notice, however. Quistis was amazed- one minute she hated Seifer, and then next minute he 'wasn't all bad?'

"But-" Quistis began again, horrified at the thoughts that were no doubt spinning through the avid gossip's mind.

"It's about time, anyways!" Selphie declared. "I thought you were some sort of SeeD nun!"

Quistis just shook her head, wondering exactly when her friend had been dropped on her head.

And wondering, vaguely, if it would hurt to do it just one more time.

She turned back. "'Sides, Rinoa says he's-" Selphie made a crude, but generous gesture with the spacing between her fingers, causing Quistis to blush for unknown reasons.

"Selphie, I really wouldn't-"

Selphie just grinned as the door shut in front of her. "Suuuure, Hurry up! We're gonna be late for lunch!"

Quistis stared at the door for several seconds before shrugging out of the remainder of her clothes, welcoming the warm water of the shower as she did her best to scrub the grime out of her hair with Selphie's shampoo. The monster's blood was apparently as tenacious and annoying as the monster itself.

Sleeping with Seifer? Not bloody likely.

….

Seifer spit, disgusted, as the rapidly thawing innards trickled their way down to his lips. He wiped at his face with his sleeve, only to make more of a mess of his forehead than originally existed.

Fucking Marlboro.

He thrust his keycard into the door slot, waiting impatiently for the light to turn green. The machine beeped, and was rewarded with a curse and a quick pounding. Reluctantly, under the new rain of abuse, the light flashed green.

Fucking door.

He peeled off his soiled clothes, noticing with no small amount of irritation that Hyperion would have to be cleaned once again. The blade shone with a jade sheen, a sheen that if left alone, would be sure to rust the metal.

Fucking…things.

His clothes dropped to the floor, and he knew without examining them closely that they were for shit. He'd have to go get another set from that damned supply room, and knowing his luck, that harpy would be working there and he'd wind up with a pair of pants shoved up his ass.

He frowned as he thought back to that afternoon. Or mess of an afternoon, at any rate. He'd had plenty of……excursions, so to speak, nights spent with women who had wanted the same thing as he had. One night, plain and simple, no holes barred, no strings attached. Even after the Sorceress war there had been no shortage of women- women that wanted him for what he had done, his sword and shield a kind of trophy they could hold between their legs for a night, a pawn they could conquer, a prize they could pin down and tame.  They could fuck the man who had 'almost-done-great-things'…apparently that was a consolation prize to screwing a hero. They were fools, of course. Women seemed to think that the act itself had meaning, when, in reality, for him, it was simply skin on skin, the most un-introspective activity he could think to participate in.

Maybe that's why he'd enjoyed it so much.

They'd meant nothing, at any rate. They were a moment, a breath, a beat, a whisper that was lost almost as soon as it was uttered. Like scratching an itch, like pinching a match head to extinguish the flame. Simple. Easy. Entirely forgettable.

So what the hell had lost its appeal?

The shower's hot water was a welcome spray on his face, one that instantly soothed the kinks in his muscles but did little to ease the knot in his brain.

When the hell was it that he had changed? When exactly was the moment where everything he had once valued came crashing down at his feet, cheap and worn like fake silver, a green tarnish on its shiny exterior? All that had mattered once was power, and in that power glory and honor. And pride, beautiful shimmering pride, a proud conceit that he hadn't bothered to conceal to anyone. And why should he? Nature had been kind; whatever genes the Almasy line had been in possession of had granted him enough wit and enough brains to accomplish whatever fate dangled above his grasp. Or so he thought.

Whatever he had, it wasn't enough.

Not even fucking close, in fact.

And now, here, back waist-deep in the shards of his former dreams, followed by ghosts of memories and even thinner waifs of aspirations, he found that all he had held as gold wasn't even brass-plated.

He was tired. Tired of the façade, tired of the three-ring circus he'd made for himself. Tired of being a spectacle, of being Garden's poster child for failure. Being a revolutionary wasn't nearly as glorious as the world projected. In fact, being a revolutionary had simply meant being a defined pawn for an indifferent cause.

He thought back to earlier, when he had felt Quistis' hand on his skin, the bubble of her heart rising through her palm in an attempt to heal his injuries even as his palm burned into her side, exchanging their hints of soul on healing coolant.

It had been, by far, one of the strangest experiences of his life.

Ultimecia had never healed him. In fact, for every failure, she'd made sure the wounds hurt that much more. Towards the end, his goddess, his Queen, had looked at him the same way everyone else in his life had regarded him: with disgust. Regarded him as a failure.

And yet, that wasn't the way she looked at him.

That had never been the way she looked at him.

He could still remember times in her class, sitting in the back, alternating between questioning her authority and picking on Puberty Boy to pass the time. She'd sent him to detention more times than he could count on his hand (if he had two thousand extra hands and feet), yelled at him about twice that much, tried to beat him with a board eraser, and on several occasions, gave him failing grades. But she never lost that look in her eyes, when, however infrequently, she turned her eyes away from Squall to look at him.

That glimmer of hope, that remained no matter how hard he'd tried to destroy it.

He could still remember her tiny hands pressed in his face, frowning at both he and Squall, forcing herself between the two squabbling boys. He remembered how he had looked on her in surprise as, in the halls of Garden, she'd stood between them once again, eyes cold and lips tightly pursed, telling them to get to class.

And yet, during all the times he could remember, never once had she looked at him that way, the way the others all did with the exception of Matron: like he was doomed to fail. Not until the end, anyway, and then, even then, her face had been simply blank, determined…not filled with hate like the others.

"You know, not everyone wants you to fail."

"Name one person."

"………….I don't, Seifer.."

"Quistis." He said it aloud, the sound of her name reverberating throughout the tiny shower.

He almost smiled at the mental image of Quistis glaring sourly at the remains of their fallen enemy, chest heaving and hands clenched at her sides even as hunks of tentacle dripped from her cheeks, then breaking into laughter, holding her sides in mirth as he chuckled with her.

Seifer forced his face into the spray, trying to rid himself of the rest of the muck embedded in his hair even as he tried to clear the thoughts from his mind.

He was forced to scrub harder with the soap, swearing inwardly at the Marlboro's uncanny ability to be incredibly irritating even after death.

Still, her image persisted in his mind.

Quite a formidable foe, Quistis. He was coming to find that if forced to deal with her, he liked her much better as an ally.

"Hey, there's my two favorite girls!" exclaimed Irvine, looking up as both Quistis and Selphie walked in, Selphie cheerfully clinging to her exhausted-looking friend's arm and fairly dragging Quistis behind her.

Quistis waved her hand in a tired-looking wave, the smallest of smiles rising feebly to her lips as she took a seat next to Irvine. Rinoa, already seated next to Squall, gave Quistis an enthusiastic wave.

Quistis had been forced to borrow some of Selphie's clothes, most of which were either too bright or too tight for her liking. Selphie finally pushed her into a pair of old sweats, a set that was decidedly too small for Quistis' taller frame. The top rode too high and the pants followed suit. Although she appreciated her friend's generosity, Quistis was anxious to change. She could feel more than one Trepie stare burning into her exposed middle.

At any rate, it was still better than wearing Marlboro-designed battle wear.

"Hi Quisty! Are you feeling better?" Rinoa's voice was a little too bright, like the shutters pulled abruptly on a sleeping person.

Quistis gave her a weary thumbs up sign as her head slumped down onto her other hand. "Feeling cleaner, at any rate."

"Irvine said you encountered a Marlboro." Said Squall.

He speaks, thought Quistis wryly, and he speaks a sentence without the word 'paperwork' in it. Amazing.

"Yes," she replied curtly. "We did."

Squall's look of discontent clearly indicated his desire for a more descript answer. Quistis sighed.

"I read that Marlboro life cycles are empirically proven to be relatively Malthusian in all but lifespan aspects, meaning they have relatively quick development and reproduction processes. The spore-like zygote has the ability to latch onto other surfaces, where it develops, absorbing any available nutrients. My theory is that this year the population encountered an overshoot, and attached to hulls and airships, where it dropped off and followed-"

"Geez! You sound like a book! I'll get you some lunch, Quisty!" exclaimed Selphie, dragging Rinoa with her. Irvine followed.

"Anyway," replied Quistis tiredly. "They followed the food source. Seifer and I were barely able to take it down. I recommend increasing team members on monster excavation missions, just to be safe."

"Noted." Replied Squall. A pause. "How is Seifer progressing?"

"I'm not sure that I'm qualified to judge that." She replied evenly. "He seems fine to me. Like the old Seifer…without dignity."

Squall just shook his head. "Just don't let your guard down, Quistis."

Anger stirred in her. What was she, a child? "And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?"

Squall sighed. "Just be careful."

Quistis leaned back in her chair, regarding him with a cool expression. Two years ago she would have been thrilled that he was talking to her. Now, however, she was anxious for him to shut up. "Why do you care? Aside from filling positions and filing reports, you've made it abundantly clear-"

"Hey, you guys know if they've got any hot dogs left?" came a friendly interjection, shaking Quistis out of the tension that seemed to have suddenly enveloped the entire table. She tensed, and looked away.

"I have no idea, Zell," replied Squall, reluctantly tearing his eyes from hers in his typical 'this is not over' fashion.

Zell, oblivious to the tension at the table, took a seat and flipped it backwards, sidling down to sit next to Squall. Zell's eyes darted around the cafeteria, making sure no one had a hot dog on their plate. He was convinced that a cafeteria conspiracy was being formed against him, and had been formulating intricate paranoia over the last three years.

Rinoa and Selphie approached the table, Rinoa's worried look revealing to Quistis that the young sorceress could sense the tension that had most recently radiated between herself and her boyfriend. Damn that sorceress-knight bond.

Quistis tried to abandon her anger in favor of a light laugh, attempting to ease the mood or change the subject, the latter of which was more likely to happen with Squall at the table. "You're a food schizoid, Zell."

Zell's blue eyes flickered in their suspicious pursuit as Rinoa and Selphie finally set their trays down on the table. "Ha. We'll see. I have a theory, you see. A hyperthesis of the inner workings of this corrupt cafeteria."

"Zell, it's hypothesis-" began Quistis, but the young man was already on a tirade.

Zell slammed his hand down on the table in sudden adamant declaration. The group calmly picked up their glasses, used to Zell's lunchtime soapbox avowals. "Y'know when you do laundry and you always end up with less socks? Well, it all ties in, you'll see. Whosever eatin' all my hotdogs has gotta be connected!" He rubbed his gloved hands together. "This is gonna be big. My guess is it runs pretty deep."

"Zell, you're gonna become a raving loony if ya keep this up." Proclaimed Selphie, pointing at her obsessed friend as she handed Quistis her customary salad.

"Gonna?" muttered Irvine. Rinoa, Selphie, and Quistis poorly concealed smiles. Squall just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, laugh it up." Sneered Zell. "Everyone laughed at Waker Brauey, too, and look what happened to him."

Selphie took a bite of her sandwich, looking quizzical. "Whoth's Walker Brewey?"

Rinoa giggled. "Waker Brauey is the man who invented three-sided tape."

"Twee-thided thape?" asked Selphie, even more puzzled than before.

"He initially became famous for his 'artistic' ingenuity and creative 'foresight'." Supplied Quistis, lifting a bite of salad to her lips.

"And later became institutionalized for his insanity," finished Irvine, frowning at the lack of dressing on his burger.

But Zell wasn't listening. Suddenly, he bolted up from the table, overturning his chair as he sprinted towards a hapless cadet. "Hey! You!" he shouted. "That'd better not be a hotdog!" The cadet, terrified, promptly took off through the cafeteria doors, with Zell hot on his heels.

Quistis just chuckled, tucking into her salad. Scouting Trabian hills worked up a decent appetite. Maybe she'd go back up and get some of the lasagna they always served on Tuesdays.

"How are plans coming along for the Winter Festival, Selphie?" asked Quistis, in an attempt to change the topic of conversation to something that wasn't about Marlboros, Seifer Almasy, hot dogs, or, inevitably, her lack of a sex life.

Selphie's eyes lit up. "Great! We're getting some really cool lanterns from a Trabian dealer, actually, which are going to set off the hanging ice crystals and oh! I really need to get that snow machine ready…the last time it started on fire, and we had all that paper mache…I mean, that thing really escalated quickly."

Quistis rolled her eyes. "How could any of us forget? That was the famous 'Inferno' festival, and by the time the sprinkler systems were done, everyone was soaked through-"

Irvine's eyes glazed over. "Soaked completely though. Yeah, that was a great festival-"

Selphie glared at him. "Anyway, Nida's assured me he's got it fixed this year, and there's going to be this big ice punch fountain! It's gonna be soooo sweet! Quistis, you'll help me with decorations, right?"

"Sure, Selphie." Said Quistis. It wasn't as if she would have a date this year…or any other plans with which to facilitate an excuse.

"So, Quisty," asked Rinoa, leaning in, dark hair brushing the tabletop. "How was your night last night?" The young sorceress made a terrible face, one eye squinted tightly shut, mouth twisted open in an attempt to bring down the lid.

Quistis just stared blankly at her.

"Did you enjoy your break?" persisted Rinoa, once again contorting her face into another horrible botched attempt at a wink. This time, the eyelid wavered, nearly sliding closed. She tilted her head up, trying to maximize the effect.

Squall frowned at her. "Is something wrong with your salad?"

Rinoa frowned. "No, why?"

"Then why the hell are you making that face?" he snapped.

Selphie giggled, then proceeded to choke on her sandwich. Irvine rolled his eyes and clapped her heartily on the back.

Quistis just shook her head, begging Hyne for the patience not to strangle all her friends. "My night was fine, Rinoa. I caught up on missed sleep."

Rinoa cast her half of a knowing smile. "Of course. You must have been very tired." This time in her wink attempt, her jaw tilted to one side, giving Rinoa the look of a very drunk individual that had just been severely clobbered about the head.

Irvine sighed, getting to his feet. "It might be just me, but I do believe y'all get weirder every day," he muttered, dumping his tray and walking out of the cafeteria.

Selphie checked her watch. "Oh shoot! My class starts in less than half an hour!" She took off, a yellow blur against the predominantly uniform-laden cafeteria. Rinoa was still smiling as she carried off her own tray to clean it.

Squall stood. "Where is Seifer?" She didn't miss the accusing tint in his voice.

Quistis shrugged. "I believe he's in the shower. Why? Should I be bathing him myself?" She was already frustrated and tired from the day's events, and being in Squall's presence did little to quell that frustration.

Squall eyes narrowed, gray pools darkening with frustration.

"Seifer isn't someone you can turn your back on, Quistis." Especially you, he thought to himself.

Quistis gritted her teeth. "When have I turned my back on him?"

"Remember the detention incident? The one where he sabotaged an entire mission and wound up snagged in Edea's web?"

Quistis stood, seething. "Are you suggesting that's my fault!"

"I didn't suggest it. I said it."

She recoiled as if he'd struck her. She could have sworn she saw a flash of regret in his eyes, but whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it came.

She leaned over the table, incensed. "Well, if I'm such a bad babysitter, why assign me to the same charge?" she whispered furiously.

"It wasn't my idea in the first place."

This had to be a record for words spoken to her in one day. Not that they were good words.

Quistis threw out her arms. "Then why the sudden concern over my assignment status? Why not assign it to someone else?"

"Just because it wasn't my idea doesn't mean I don't hope it works. I never said-"

"You didn't have to say it." Snapped Quistis. "Criticize my professionalism all you want, Squall. But don't pretend it's out of concern. I've been a lot of things for you- punching bag, secretary, and now, of course, babysitter, but I've never been your friend. You've made that quite clear in the past. So let's stop pretending, shall we?"

She looked up to see Rinoa approaching. So did Squall, apparently. "This discussion is over." He said coldly.

"Over?" she smiled, anger still glittering quite apparently in her eyes. "It's like our friendship. It never started."

She snatched her tray with a rough scrape, stalking back into the line and leaving the Commander behind her.

"Quisty!"

Quistis sighed as Rinoa's voice reached her ears. She was in no mood to be counseled on Squall's merits at the moment. She turned. "Rinoa, if this is about Squall-"

"What about him?" asked Rinoa sweetly, leaning over the counter as Quistis snatched a plate and proceeded to fill it with lasagna.

"Or Seifer-"

Rinoa smirked. "Oh Quisty, I don't reeeeaally think you're sleeping with Seifer!"

"You don't?" Why couldn't I be sleeping with Seifer?, she thought to herself, nearly shaking her head at the ridiculousness of that statement as soon as the thought flitted across her mind.

Her dark-haired friend scrunched her nose, adding an orange to her tray. "It's just fun to indulge Selphie's wild imagination sometimes."

Quistis wanted to roll her eyes, but refrained. Selphie's imagination didn't need encouraging. It was already out of control.

She moved the tray down the line, noticing the raven-haired shadow behind her. She wished Rinoa would leave. She was still stinging from her argument with Squall, and didn't need the angel around as a reminder of how socially unappealing she herself was.

Quistis frowned. "Aren't you upset about him being back, Rinoa?"

The sorceress frowned. "Seifer? I suppose I could be, but Seifer and I had a history together before the Sorceress War. He was very different then." She moved to allow another student access to the salad bar, thoughtfully chewing on a carrot stick. "The war changed him, just like it changed Edea. He's different now. I think we all are, don't you? I know I am." She looked at Quistis seriously for a moment, before she broke out into one of her beaming smiles. "I think it's nice what you're doing, Quisty."

Quistis just shook her head. "I don't even know what I'm doing, Rinoa." She said quietly, surprised at her admission to the girl next to her.

Rinoa patted her shoulder. "It'll work out, you'll see." She said cheerfully, waving as she walked away. Quistis just shook her head. Rinoa's misguided sense of social justice never ceased to amaze her.

"And Quistis?"

"What, Rinoa?" she asked tiredly.

The young woman beamed. "Don't worry, he'll come around."

Quistis spent the rest of her lunch trying to figure out exactly who Rinoa meant.

If Seifer weren't so damned tired, he'd have the energy to be bored out of his skull. As it was, however, he was content to lay on his back, staring that the shadows the played on his wall: the dark, delicate waifs of snowflakes shadowing the plaster as they fell. His muscles were relaxing, slowly, the cramps of magic eventually fading, leaving a faint acidic sting behind. The ache in his side had subsided completely, thanks to Quistis' Curaga. The shower had left him feeling refreshed and relaxed, and so he'd stretched out on the small white cot, forgoing lunch in favor of a fleeting daydream or two.

The cold from the window cracks leaked in, reminding him of the orphanage windows in the dead of winter. He remembered, dimly, the way they'd all crowded around it, watching the first snowfall of the year in child-like anticipation. Even he'd looked forward to the snow, even if it was for the sole reason of pelting Chicken Wuss with snowballs or wrecking Quistis' carefully crafted snow structures. Even now, he had no idea why he enjoyed getting a rise out of people.

Perhaps it was because he always found their anger easier to deal with than their affection, or some psycho-babble crap like that.

A knock rattled him out of his thoughts. It was probably Rajin and Fujin, back from their mission.

Instead, it turned out to be Quistis, arms wrapped around a gigantic box. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" came the muffled voice. The room was pitch dark- he could understand her question.

Just me going crazy, he thought to himself. Nothing new.

"What the hell is that?" he asked, stepping back.

"Well if you don't let me in soon, I'm going to drop it all over the hallway, and then we'll all find out." She muttered.

He took another step back. Before he could flick on the lights, she dumped the box into his arms, and he nearly dropped it in surprise. It really was heavy.

"What the fuck?" he muttered, setting it down on his bed. He stepped back to look at it. It was taped in a completely haphazard fashion- clearly over half a roll of duct tape had been used to insure that the thing stayed shut. On the top, someone had written 'Seifer Almasy' in clear script. She handed him a box cutter.

"What's in here?" he asked, suspicion currently the better part of his curiosity.

"Open it and find out," she replied, folding her arms.

"I repeat, what's in here?" It was a 'care package' from Galbadia, for all he knew. He could just see Martine, chuckling to himself as he hand-wrapped a cyanide bath set. Although he doubted Martine wrote like a girl.

Quistis, meanwhile, was giving him a proper scowl. "It's a bomb," she replied caustically. "Which is why I'm sticking around to see you open it."

"Fuck, all right. Hyne, don't they have pills for PMS?" Seifer took the box cutter from her, more out of a vague apprehension that she was going to use it than an eagerness to see what was actually inside the box. He cut along the sides uneasily, hacking through the sloppily taped cube, finally wedging his fingers in to pop open the top.

He looked down, and frowned. It wasn't a bomb……….a cyanide bathset………..or even a boiled rabbit. It wasn't remotely what he was expecting.

"My stuff." He muttered, amazed to see it uncharred……...and in recognizable pieces, to boot. Whole ones.

"Don't worry," said Quistis quickly. "Nobody went through it. Well, except for me, two years ago." She knew, despite his brash and coercive outer coating, at his core, Seifer was an intensely private person. She had taken great care, years ago, to respect that. Of course, at the time, she'd thought she was sifting through a dead man's things.

He was sure Balamb had scattered it in the streets by now, or hosted an Almasy Bonfire for his desertion. And yet, here it was; papers, clippings, an old sweater from Edea, a pair of boots, birth certificate, a roll of booth film from his summer spent in Timber with Rinoa. He dug, finding his savings rolled in a rubber band, his cadet ID……..it was all there.

"But-?"

Quistis smiled. "I kept it for you, in the off-chance you'd be coming back for it. It sat in storage all this time." She paused, easing down on the mattress on the other side of the box. "They almost threw it out after the war, but Edea insisted that I keep it. I thought you might like it, now."

Seifer frowned. "You……...did that?"

Quistis shrugged. "They filled your room almost right away when they thought you were…..." She cleared her throat. "They were going to throw it all away, but……" She brought her head up to look at him, a small smile on her face. "I suppose I had the crazy idea you'd be back for it."

"No crazier an idea than me actually coming back, I guess." he replied, staring across the room, jade eyes glossed with shadows and some nameless emotion she'd never been able to place. It had always been there, beneath his arrogance, pride, and pomposity, but never had it lain so bare before.

Quistis jumped slightly at the feel of his hand brushing hers. "Quistis." He said, eyes meeting hers for one brief, thoroughly disconcerting moment. He cleared his throat. "Uh, thanks." It was a muttered word, barely audible as he jerked his head away, withdrawing his hand just as quickly. A crackle of warmth darted through her hand at his touch, a fire gone before it could catch.

"Well, I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing." She stood and rubbed her arms, gazing out the small, hazy box of window that each SeeD room was equipped with, watching the snow filter down. "So pretty….I forget how cold it is." She murmured absently.

"Yeah," he muttered, eyes fastened to the dark silhouette that stood in front of the windowpane.