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Dark as Rain

By Scutter

scutter1200@hotmail.com

This fic is dedicated to Julie, for her life-altering fic, 'Star Light'.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 8. I do own some chocolate that I was given for Easter. You can't have it.

Rated R.

Chapter 36

POV of Silver Jerome, Zell, Silver, Zell.

"Okay folks, I know it's late," Zell announces, rubbing his arms in the cool, ocean air of the Quad, "and I know you've all had a long day sitting around in your dorm rooms... Well actually," he grins lopsidedly, "I know that some of you have been pissing about in FH, but let's overlook that, shall we?"

I gulp, and try vainly not to blush. Busted...

He sighs, apparently prepared to indulge us. "Look, I know you're all dying of curiosity to know what's going on at the forum, but realistically, we don't have the time or resources to keep every student in Garden up-to-date. Please, just be patient, and you'll all hear about the important bits. And don't," he adds pleadingly, "go messing about in FH again. I got my ear chewed off by the Commander about students in my class disrespecting orders."

Fuck. Okay, so the original plan to get Zell to notice me didn't include getting his ass busted. Bad move, Jerome. I don't beat the blush this time, and I keep my head down, knowing I just turned bright red.

"Alright, while we've got a half hour or so to ourselves, we're gonna run through the combat sequences you should all have been practicing." He instantly livens up, punching his own palm with his fist. "Split into pairs, each pair is gonna have a five minute sparing round. I want you each to use at least three of the sequences you've been taught in the five minutes, and yes, you will be graded on this."

Hyne. Other classes get a pop quiz. We get to beat the shit out of each other. How the hell am I supposed to concentrate with Zell watching my every move?

Then again... a wicked idea springs to mind. Oh, Silver, you just insist on playing with fire, don't you?

Stan and I pair ourselves up together - we've been practicing together, and we're used to each other's sparring technique by now. We watch some of the other students, using the time to do some quick warm ups and stretches, and then Stan and I are up next. It's cool in the Quad - the sun has just set and a breeze is coming in off the ocean - but with the adrenalin pumping, I'm not feeling the cold. Following my earlier impulse, I shrug off my jacket, knowing full well that underneath, I'm only wearing a half-length singlet top. It stops just above my belly button, and I saunter deliberately over to where Stan is waiting. After months of training, both my arms and stomach are tightly toned, and my top clings just a little too tightly to my chest. Any red-blooded male shouldn't have any trouble noticing that.

I assume my starting position, and flick my hair innocently over my shoulder. Obvious? Heck, it's not often I have Zell's undivided attention, and I intend to take full advantage of it.

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I watch carefully as Silver and Stan go through their sequences. Doing well, I'll admit, though privately, I can tell Silver's moves are slower than they should be, and I find myself absently analysing the openings she leaves in her defence posture.

"Hold on, hold on," I interrupt her, after three minutes of the fight. "You're letting your guard down too often. Your right arm's fine," I explain, as she attempts to correct her posture. "It should be protecting your abdomen." I glance at the expanse of bare skin above her pants, and notice a faded bruise. "And I've already warned you about leaving injuries unattended," I caution her in passing. She smiles coyly, but before she can mutter the excuse I know is coming, I simply raise an eyebrow, and she concedes the point. "But you left hand should be higher," I continue, gently grasping her wrist, directing her movements, "up here to protect your face."

She grins at me, and flips her hair out of her eyes again. I will never understand how women fight with all that hair everywhere. Must be a female thing...

"Thanks, Zell," she utters breathlessly, and I'm abashed to find her tone suddenly reminding me of an amorous Squall. There's just a hint of a husky purr in her voice that I haven't heard since Squall and I last... I am so not going there, I remind myself harshly. Hyne, and I thought the class was doing so well at keeping my mind off the Ice-prick.

Ignoring the sudden increase in my heart rate, I step back, with perhaps more haste than strictly necessary, and tell Stan and Silver to pick up where they left off.

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I manage not to smirk, as Zell practically stumbles backwards, telling me and Stan to continue the round. Okay, so he wasn't happy about the bruise on my side, but the fact that he noticed totally confirms that he was checking me out. And he had no problem getting up close and personal, when he touched my arm like that. Satisfied - for now - I decide to leave the poor guy alone for the rest of the lesson. I've managed to get his attention, I think smugly. We can leave the rest for later.

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I storm into my quarters, barely managing to put down the grading sheets on the coffee table without crumpling them then slamming my fists into my punching bag as hard as I can. My fury is short lived though, and only a few punches later, I find myself breathless, clinging to the bag while I rest my forehead against the cool leather. My lack of breath has nothing to do with physical exertion, though.

I close my eyes and grip the bag tighter, finally letting out the frustration I've been holding back since Silver inadvertently reminded me so clearly of what I no longer have - Squall, in my bed, between my thighs. I wince at that image, suddenly acutely aware of the erection throbbing in my shorts. Hyne, it's been barely 48 hours since we last had sex, and I'm already losing it?

Somehow, I managed to force myself into attending the forum today, despite my threats to boycott it. I take my SeeD responsibilities seriously, baby, and that includes obeying my Commander. Even when I'm not speaking to my lover. Oh, sorry. Ex-lover.

"Damn it," I whisper to myself, against the leather of my punching bag. No matter how much of a bastard he is, my body just isn't dealing with the idea of no Squall ever again.

The remainder of this chapter has been omitted due to NC17 rated content. Please see my web site for the full version.

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Feedback will be given laughing gas. Yes, I actually have access to laughing gas, don't mock me. Flames will be irradiated. And yes, I also have access to an x-ray machine, so I'm not kidding.

Chibi-chan: Congratulations! I think you got in that review only about half an hour after I posted the fic! That's gotta be one of the quickest reviews in history!

Platinum Angel: As far as I'm aware, Irvine's nightmare was simply a result of too many arguments right on top of some bondage play with Selphie. (remember those handcuffs from a few chapters back?) I think if Ultimecia was going to sneak into people's bed's at night, she'd start with Seifer. That's just what the muses tell me. Hope you enjoyed the OCs in this chapter ;)

Redrum: I've actually been hearing some odd plot-bunnies from the muses about a SxS in this fic... I mean, with Zell out of the game for a little while... Don't know about that one. I might decide it's just too, too evil.