"Get up," Squall ordered as he stepped into Seifer's room. He'd already been up for half an hour, taking a shower and getting dressed. And trying not to think about their kisses last night, though he knew it was something they would have to figure out.
From the bed, Seifer let out a whine of protest and pulled the covers over his head.
Squall stopped at the edge of the bed and stared down at the lump of covers. "Don't make me resort to drastic measures, Seifer." Which meant chilling his hand with Shiva's magic and going for the back of Seifer's neck. It was both amusing and effective.
Seifer scuttled out of the other side of the bed and turned to shoot Squall a groggy glare. "I hate you," he mumbled.
Squall nodded. "I know. Go take a shower."
Seifer muttered unpleasant things under his breath, but moved into his en suite bathroom and closed the door behind him. Moments later, the shower started.
Squall rolled his eyes and turned to find clothing for his friend. Years as Garden roommates and training partners had taught Squall that Seifer was always a bother to wake any time before noon. The missions he'd been on with Seifer since those days, however, had taught him that Seifer was only difficult when an actual bed was involved. So if they were camping out, on a train, or boat – anywhere that didn't have a mattress, really – Seifer got up without any fuss, often without Squall even having to rouse him.
Squall shook his head of thoughts about Seifer in the morning and took in the clothing options the blond had. Neither of them had yet to adopt the outfits he remembered from the Ghost's memories, but they hadn't been well known SeeD in that timeline, either, so they could get away with clothing that stood out in a crowd. As they were, they preferred to blend in, matching their outfits to their destinations or the mission they were on.
Going to the rougher side of town meant jeans and a shirt, so Squall pulled out one of Seifer's older pair of jeans and one of the shirts he rarely wore – he would be most upset if one of his favourite shirts got ripped during a knife fight. He also grabbed a green hoodie, since there was nothing wrong with them wearing an extra layer or two under their jackets, and he knew Seifer would appreciate it.
"So, do I get a good morning kiss?" Seifer wondered, opening the door of the bathroom.
Squall pulled out a pair of pants and tossed them in Seifer's face, followed quickly by the jeans. "Get dressed."
Seifer grinned at him, feeling more awake after the shower, and moved to change into the clothing Squall had pulled out for him. With everything but the hoodie on, he pulled out his stock of concealed knives and started strapping them on. "Are we stopping for breakfast at least?" he wondered as he finished hiding away the last of his knives and reached for his handgun, checking that the clip was full and the safety was on before he slipped it into the hidden holster built into the inner waistband of his jeans.
"Going out without eating something would be asking for death," Squall replied drily.
"Oh, I suppose." Seifer pulled the hoodie on and slipped his bag with extra clips, some potions and remedies, and his travel-size jar of make-up in the front pocket. A quick glance at Squall showed that, yes, the younger teen had applied the make-up to his scar – which made sense, even if they were fighting a bunch of thugs who would probably run at the sight of SeeD's best – and Seifer headed back to the bathroom, where his own jar was. "Do we have any idea where, exactly, Semans' base is?"
"No," Squall admitted, coming over to lean against the bathroom door frame, "but judging by the direction Violet was running and the questionable nature of that part of the city, it shouldn't be too hard to pinpoint. If she's awake, we can ask her to give us a better idea, but otherwise we can just poke around on our own."
Seifer nodded and closed the make-up jar. "Depending on your luck is my favourite pastime," he said teasingly.
Squall rolled his eyes and pushed away from the door frame. "Come on."
Seifer darted forward and caught Squall's arm, pulling him back and cupping the side of his face with his free hand once he could reach. "May I–?"
Squall pressed forward, whispering, "Shut up," before their lips met, his arms coming up to grab at Seifer's waist. Because Seifer's mouth was already open, having been in the process of speaking, Squall opened his own mouth a bit to compensate. Their teeth clacked once, then Seifer shifted and used the hand that had slipped behind Squall's head to guide the younger boy a bit.
Touching their tongues together was a bit weird, at first, and Squall almost pulled away, but Seifer's hand tightened in his hair and Squall stayed, getting used to having someone else invade his mouth far quicker than he'd expected.
Eventually, they had to pull apart to breathe and they gasped against each other, breaths mingling and foreheads almost touching. The hand in Squall's hair loosened and ran gently through the dark locks until they'd caught their breath. Then the hand came around and the thumb ran over Squall's bottom lip, wet with saliva.
"We need to get going," Squall breathed.
"I know," Seifer whispered back before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Squall's mouth. Then he pulled back, Squall's hands falling from his waist. "Come on."
Squall nodded and turned to lead the way from the room. When Seifer caught up with him in the hallway, he commented, "We're going to have to talk about this."
Seifer sighed. "Yeah, I know. Tonight?"
"Sure."
Violet was not up yet, but Gregory was and he gave them a faint smile as the two teens slipped into their usual seats. "You're up early, Seifer."
"Someone threatened me out of bed," Seifer muttered, shooting Squall a dark look as Jessie brought them plates.
"What time did you two make it back last night?" Gregory asked, amused and a little concerned. It was bad enough that the two were constantly in danger, but the least they could do was get some proper sleep while they were home. (Though, knowing Squall, 'proper sleep' had nothing to do with sleeping in and everything to do with going to bed early. While Seifer was the exact opposite, Gregory had never seen him even try sleeping through one of Squall's wake up calls, though past experience when Seifer's other SeeD partners or Gregory himself had tried waking Seifer had taught him it was no mean feat; Gregory couldn't help but wonder what his youngest son threatened to get Seifer out of bed with so little fuss all the time.)
"Midnight?" Seifer guessed.
"Something like that," Squall agreed.
Gregory sighed and shook his head. "And what has you two up so early?" He recalled their jeans and the out of place bulges at the smalls of their backs, where they usually wore their handguns when armed. "Going into town to start a fight?"
"We're not actually going into the city to start anything," Squall offered in that too-calm voice that always made Gregory suspicious. "We're just doing some reconnaissance."
"With guns," Gregory added drily.
Both boys shrugged. "We're not looking for a fight, but that's no reason to not be prepared for one," Seifer insisted.
Gregory sighed again, but this was one battle he'd lost before he'd even met the two boys; they'd been trained to see enemies around every corner and to prepare for the absolute worst. On one hand, it kept them alive. On the other, it made them the two best SeeDs in the whole of Garden and they ended up on a lot of dangerous missions because of that.
The two teens were just getting up to leave when Christal entered the room, her expression falling to find them obviously dressed to go out. "You're not going to be gone all day, are you?" she asked.
"We'll be back for lunch," Seifer promised. "And we don't have anything to do tonight, so we can have an evening in, watching telly or something."
Her expression lightened considerably at that. "Well, that's something. Oh! Are you two going to be going by the film developer's?"
Squall and Seifer traded looks. The elderly gentleman Christal usually entrusted her film to was a little out of their way, but not so far that they couldn't make a side trip. Squall shrugged slightly and Seifer turned back to their adopted mother and said, "Sure. Is the roll still in the camera, or...?"
"It's on Greg's desk," Christal replied with a grateful smile. "Thank you, boys. I was going to ask one of the girls if they could do it on their way home tonight and pick it up tomorrow morning, but since you're going out anyway..."
"Don't worry about it, Chris," Squall said, shaking his head. "It's really not a problem. We'll see you for lunch."
"Okay! Have fun!" Christal called after them, shooting her husband a sharp look when he snorted.
-0-
They didn't end up having to hunt down Semans' base, as matters would have it, since his people found them first, fading out of the alleys before Squall and Seifer managed to get more than ten steps in over their territory line from the upper class part of the city.
"Hey, Blondie and Pretty Boy, you two got a call from the boss," one of them said with a smile as he cracked his knuckles.
"It's probably a good thing we were looking for him, then," Seifer replied with an easy smile as he mentally counted the men around them to be almost four times that of what they'd faced last time. 'I guess Semans really wants to see us. Fan-fucking-tastic.'
The one who'd spoken looked momentarily upset that he'd miss out on beating them to a pulp for resisting, but he nodded to a couple of guys behind the two teens and they came up behind to grab their arms. "Just don't get no funny ideas, eh, boys?" the guy suggested before leading the way back into the alleyway he'd popped out of.
It was about a twenty-minute walk to the underground club-turned-base. They were held in what appeared to be a receiving room, with a large chair at one end and plenty of open space for people to gather in and provide entertainment, while someone went to go wake Semans – the two SeeD took a sort of grim pleasure in the fact that they'd come when the man was sleep and likely not at his best. While they waited, Squall scanned the room for anything that would help point them towards Semans' origins, but the man was either very careful about his public image, or he'd so completely turned his back on his home that he kept nothing that could be even remotely connected to it.
When Semans came in, he looked sleep mussed, but generally alert. He settled into his chair and offered the two teens a smile. "Good morning, boys. Quite rude of you to come outside of visiting hours, but I suppose we can make an exception just this once." He leaned forward, a hint of warning entering his dark eyes. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we? You have something of mine, and I want it back."
" 'It'?" Seifer hissed.
"Yes, it." Semans chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "Don't go getting attached, boy. Violet is nothing more than a whore for sale; it makes them rather incapable of feeling genuine affection for anything outside the act of having more sex."
'There it is,' Squall thought triumphantly as Semans said the word 'genuine' and the faintest hint of an Estharian accent came through. Anyone who had never been to Esthar and heard the real thing would think it was just a slurring of the words, and even before Esthar had closed their borders, they hadn't spoken much to the other countries of the world, being in the middle of a war against everyone else. The only Estharian they'd regularly heard speak was Adel, and according to records, she was originally from Trabia, giving her more of a northern brogue. There was also Odine, who had spoken at a few conferences before Adel had locked him in his labs, but he'd always spoken with a bad attempt at an Old Centran accent, and most people tended to be too distracted by his self-indulgency to pay attention to his accent.
But Squall had heard the real, posh Estharian accent, actually in Esthar, and he knew what it sounded like. And, judging by the way Seifer's eyes were glinting with murderous intent towards their 'host', it was probably a good time to distract them away from Violet. "I suppose Deling must be quite boring for you," he said with some abruptness, pleased by the way everyone turned their attention to him, having apparently forgotten he was in the room. Not that that was a disadvantage.
Semans considered the younger of the two teens with a faintly amused look. "Now what makes you say that?"
"Your accent." Squall let a hint of satisfaction light his eyes at the surprise that crossed Semans' face. "It's not all that noticeable, but I know an Estharian accent when I hear one, no matter how well camouflaged."
The four men holding Seifer and Squall tensed slightly and Seifer smirked. "Oh dear, did someone forget to mention to his followers that he's from the same country as the madwoman who waged war against their home for the better part of a decade?"
Semans narrowed his eyes. "Out, all of you."
"But, Boss," one of the men said, voice carrying the slightest hint of uncertainty, "they're almost certainly carrying weap–"
Semans' smile was sharp as glass and his Estharian accent strengthened with his temper. "Out."
The guards stepped away from the two teens and slipped from the room, as did the other four or five people who had gathered around the edges of the room.
"So you've caught me out," Semans said once the room had cleared, dropping all pretences and letting his accent come back full-force. "What, exactly, do you intend to accomplish by that? I'll kill a few idiots and my people will once again be loyal to me. Perhaps you intend to win Violet with some parlour tricks?" He laughed, the sound sharp as nails on a chalkboard. "Not this time, boys. Violet is worth rather a lot of gil. I suppose I could be willing to sell it to you, but–"
"Don't mistake me," Squall interrupted, sensing Seifer's temper begin to rise again at Semans' insinuations, "I was simply verifying where you're from. Our records on you are unusually sparse, so we figured you were either from FH or Esthar."
"Oh, 'our records', is it?" Semans repeated, a hint of mocking in his tone. "Well then, aren't you rich little brats so very full of yourselves," he continued, the mocking tone sharpening with anger. "You two might be good in a fist-fight, but let's see how you do against something much more dangerous!" He held his left hand out and a ring on his middle finger glowed before a large train appeared in the room, heading straight for the two teens.
"Fuck!" Squall hissed as both he and Seifer rolled in separate directions out of the way of the train. "It's weak to Holy and strong to status ailments!" he called to his partner as he mentally switched his junctioned spells to add the Holy element to his weapons and changed his status junctions around to guard against the worst of Doomtrain's ailments. "Don't let the smog hit you!"
"Go after the brunet, Doomtrain!" Semans shouted when the GF had to choose between the two boys.
Squall pulled out his gun and managed to empty about half his clip into the oncoming train's face-grill before he had to roll out of the way to avoid getting run over, mouth and nose covered against the smog.
Just as Doomtrain managed to turn again so it was facing Squall, a fireball of a GF slammed into its side, knocking it off kilter. Ifrit roared at the train, dodging the cloud of gases that Doomtrain threw in response.
"Interesting GF," Seifer commented as he came to a stop next to Squall, who was summoning Shiva to join Ifrit; the two GFs didn't get on, as a general principle, but they'd always been more than willing to work together for the sake of their two chosen humans. "I take it you've met before?"
"Something like that," Squall agreed. "The smog inflicts pretty much every status affliction in existence."
"Fan-fucking-tastic," Seifer muttered, slamming a Holy into the train when their GFs got out of the way to avoid more smog.
"Ice Child," Diablos announced in Squall's mind, "the prey is getting away. Summon me."
Squall nodded, knowing Diablos was pretty much useless against Doomtrain, but neither Seifer nor himself could leave their support positions for Ifrit and Shiva. None of Seifer's other GFs would let themselves be called while Ifrit was out – never mind their lack of proper hands to hold a human – so that left Diablos. 'Go, but keep him alive for now,' he added as he summoned his other GF.
"Understood."
"Semans is trying to escape," Squall murmured to Seifer when the older teen chanced a curious glance towards the demon GF.
"Coward," Seifer muttered before slamming another Holy into Doomtrain's face-grill. Squall followed that with an entire clip from his gun.
One last Holy finished it and Doomtrain let out a wail before vanishing back to the GF non-space. With Ifrit and Shiva at their backs, Seifer and Squall approached Diablos and his struggling captive.
"Well," Seifer said with a smug little smile, "I'd say we're good in more than a fist-fight, wouldn't you, Squally?"
"Your first mistake, Semans," Squall commented in a neutral voice, "was assuming that, because we're young, we are inexperienced. Your second mistake was in not doing any research on us, although I suppose you can be forgiven, since we do try to keep out of the public eye. Your third mistake was in clearing the room of all your possible allies, leaving us with absolutely no distractions. I'd call you out for not divesting us of our weapons, but that wouldn't have stopped us for long, anyway, so..." He shrugged.
" 'Our records'," Seifer continued, still wearing that smug look that made people want to punch him, "are not some photo book of Galbadia's Most Wanted, but the entirety of Garden's database, containing information on pretty much everyone this side of Horizon Bridge."
"You're SeeDs," Semans realised, a dark light of fearful understanding flickering in his eyes. "So, who has put a price on my head? Or am I not allowed to know?"
Seifer snorted. "Reign in your ego, old man; no one's put a price on your head. Yet," he added as relief chased the fear from the city boss' eyes. "We just happened to be in town on another matter and you posed a threat to our cover. And, oh yeah, we don't like fuckers who sell the bodies of others against their wills."
Semans bared his teeth, straining against Diablos' hold. "Their families sold them to me. It was a proper deal!"
"There is nothing 'proper' about claiming ownership over the life of another," Squall said, voice icy. "The fact that you likely held a gun to the heads of those girls' families as they sold them over makes your 'deals' even more a load of shit." He let out a sigh, voice smoothing over with neutrality. "Unfortunately, we can't kill you–"
"What?! Why not?" Seifer snapped, turning to Squall with a sharp look. Behind them, Ifrit growled.
Squall sighed and had to check his urge to rub at his scar. "Unless you want to throw the Deling City underworld into a mess of insanity because they no longer have a city boss to keep them under control, we have to let him retain his position," Squall explained.
"That's exactly right," Semans agreed, smiling in a vaguely relieved manner at Squall. "You have an excellent head–"
"I said we can't kill you, but I have every intention of pulling your prostitution 'business' out from under your feet," Squall replied, ice returning to his voice.
Semans' laughed. "And how do you expect to do that, boy? You can't kill me, remember?"
Squall nodded, tone factual as he replied, "True, but I can weaken you enough that you're easy prey for anyone who doesn't like the idea of being led by an Estharian. The criminal underworld is quite like Garden, really; the strongest are only at the top for as long as they can beat off their opponents. One moment's weakness, and that's it, game over. Perhaps some minor turmoil, as everyone gets used to the new boss, but it'll be under the radar enough that it shouldn't affect our business."
Semans had paled and they could see the gears spinning in his head. "I can spare Violet–"
Seifer grabbed a fistful of Semans' nice shirt and snarled in his face. "Listen here, you fucker, we're not here to free Violet – we've already done that – we're here to free all the other women you've got squirrelled away in little cells against their will."
"We have nothing against prostitution as a business," Squall added, ice in his voice, "Hyne knows our own job isn't socially acceptable... What we do have something against, is owning and using other human beings against their will." That was what Ultimecia did, possessing Matron and Rinoa against their will to do her bidding, and Squall wouldn't sit back and watch any human be used by another. "Keep your prostitutes, but give them real apartments, feed them real food, give them a cut of their earnings... Treat them like their own person."
"And for Hyne's sake, stop referring to them as 'it'," Seifer added, letting go of Semans' shirt with a violent shove.
Semans shrank back against Diablos' chest, only to let out a noise of shock when the GF pressed dangerously sharp claws into his shoulders and growled, "You can choose between your profit or your life. Choose quickly, lest you find yourself with neither."
"I'll free the girls, all of them," Semans agreed quickly. "Those who don't want to stay on, I'll send back to their families."
Seifer smiled. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it?" Behind the teens, Ifrit and Shiva faded away, no longer needed. Diablos remained, though his grip on his captive loosened.
Before Semans could completely slip from Diablos' grip, Squall darted out a hand and tugged the ring from his finger. Ignoring his angry exclamation – and trusting Seifer and Diablos to keep the man from lunging to get it back – Squall closed his eyes and observed the ring with his mind. Doomtrain was still recuperating, but it had enough strength back to shoot the human holding its ring an angry hiss.
'Oh, stop that,' Squall said with some amusement. The Ghost had junctioned the testy GF for a little bit before they found out that Selphie had a surprisingly high compatibility, likely due to her love of trains. 'I have no interest in attacking someone who's already lost. I have a friend who I think you would get on well with, but if you prefer to stay with Semans, I'll return you.'
Doomtrain considered that for a long moment before weakly replying, "This friend...they would give me home? In their memories?"
'He uses you without junctioning?' Squall whispered, disgusted. It seemed somehow very much like Semans' character to use a GF without giving something in return, but still... GFs grew with their humans by going through life with them, collecting strength from their memories. Refusing a GF access to your memories was akin to refusing them nourishment, never letting them get any stronger and potentially weakening them at the same time, depending on how often you summoned them. Not only was it cruel, it was also stupid.
Squall turned his attention to his own two GFs, asking, 'Will you be upset if I junction Doomtrain for a short duration? Semans has been mistreating it, and I don't want to burden Selphie with that.'
"Doomtrain and I are kin," Diablos replied. "I will not refuse it, but I will not share you with it for long, either."
"I agree with Diablos, Ice Child," Shiva said. "Junction the Poisoned One and we will soothe its wounds until you can pass it on to your friend."
Squall nodded. 'I'm going to junction you until I'm back at Garden and you can meet Selphie,' he warned Doomtrain. 'Shiva and Diablos are willing to put up with you until then, at least.'
Doomtrain shrank back from him for a moment, then crept forward. "I will accept this," it decided.
Squall smoothly junctioned the GF, then opened his eyes to find the ring in his hand had gone dull. In the back of his mind, Shiva was directing Doomtrain to the memories Squall didn't care about and generally bullying the train GF around in a kind manner that seemed more like mothering.
"What have you done to my ring?!" Semans roared. Diablos had regained his tight grip on the man's shoulders, keeping him from attacking his defenceless human while Seifer stood slightly between Semans and Squall, the tip of one of his hidden knives visible just beneath his sleeve and only a flex of his wrist from being drawn.
"You use GFs like you use prostitutes," Squall replied as he slipped the ring into a pocket. "We won't let you mistreat one, so what makes you think we'd let you mistreat the other? You're not getting Doomtrain back."
"It's my GF!" Semans snapped, glaring at the teen with all the venom he could muster. "I found that ring fair and square!"
"That's true," Doomtrain agreed, sounding stronger already, with access to human memories. "My ring was rotting in the Estharian sewers."
"I don't care if he has a legit claim to you," Squall said aloud for the benefit of the other two humans, "a human-Guardian Force bond is a symbiotic one: Humans share their memories and life experiences and GFs share their strengths and abilities. Refusing to junction you is as good as shoving you in a prison cell and refusing to feed you, yet pulling you out every so often to make you fight, only to toss you back in the cell."
"Listen to the Ice Child," Shiva told Doomtrain. "He is an authority on all things Guardian Force."
'Flattery will not get you more memories, Shiva,' Squall told his favourite GF fondly. 'I'm hardly an authority on your kind.'
"You're not getting Doomtrain back," Seifer informed Semans, voice hard. "Diablos, you can let him go, now."
"As you say, Fire Child," Diablos agreed before fading away and appearing again in the back of Squall's mind to help Shiva keep an eye on their newest charge.
"We have some hours yet before lunch," Squall commented after glancing at his watch. "Why don't we see about freeing those girls?"
Semans shot another glare at Squall, only to be met with emotionless grey-blue eyes. He looked away and muttered, "This way," before leading the two teens from the room. He'd have to find some way to get back at them later, when they weren't basically holding guns to his head.
-0-
Seifer was still chuckling to himself at the film developer's casual remark regarding the appropriateness Squall's cross-dressing when they entered the house. Squall was shooting him occasional murderous looks and had confiscated the photos before Seifer could see them.
"Well, someone's in a good mood," Christal said as she stepped out of the sitting room with a smile.
"Old man Rowe commented that Squally looked absolutely stunning in a dress and it's 'really such a shame he was born male'," Seifer offered with a grin.
"Don't let Charles' jokes bother you, sweetie," Christal told Squall, touching his cheek. "You're so cold! Take off those coats and join us for tea. And bring those pictures!" Then she was off to requisition more cups from the kitchen.
"I'm not cold," Squall muttered, pulling off his jacket and pulling out the photo envelope before shoving the jacket into Seifer's arms. "Put it up."
Seifer chuckled and pulled off his own coat to put it up with Squall's, then followed the brunet into the sitting room. Squall had taken the seat on one of the two love seats, with Violet on the other, and Seifer didn't even think about it before joining his friend and reaching for the photo envelope, which Squall held away. "Aw, come on, Squally. You've already seen them."
"You can wait until Chris gets back," Squall informed him. He'd flipped through them while he'd been refusing to talk to Seifer as punishment for laughing, and it had been a little odd to see himself in the dress. Not a bad 'odd', per se, just... He'd seen himself in a mirror before, while getting ready, but he'd never stepped back and looked, always been more interested in making certain everything was perfect.
But he didn't need to worry about that in the photo; instead, he'd been able to just look and consider what others saw. He had looked good, especially on Seifer's arm and smiling like he was truly happy about something. And knowing what had happened later that night and again that morning made him think that the him in the photo had every right to be as happy as he'd looked. And that seemed... odd.
Christal swept back into the room and dropped down next to Violet. "Oh, Greg's over at August's manor about one silly thing or another. He promised he'd be back for lunch, though," she said as she poured them both some tea and handed the cups over with just a spoonful of sugar for Seifer and black for Squall. Once the tea had been passed around, she motioned towards the photos in Squall's hand. "Let's see them, dear."
Squall very pointedly leaned around Seifer and handed them to their adopted mother, ignoring Seifer's wounded look. On Christal's other side, Violet giggled and leaned forward to look over the older woman's shoulder to see the photos. "Lots of pictures of animals, Lady Christal," she commented.
"It's a hobby of mine," Christal admitted, finally reaching the photos of the two boys. "Oh, these turned out quite well!"
Seifer leaned forward. "Squally wouldn't let me look at them," he said with a hint of pleading in his voice.
"You laughed at me," Squall hissed when Christal shot him a disapproving look.
"I laughed 'cause you let old man Rowe get to you," Seifer pointed out. "He teases us every time we go by to pick up photos Chris took of us. Probably because it always works."
Squall clenched his jaw, then signed in the SeeD sign language, 'I will gut you and strangle you with your lower intestines if this conversation continues.'
Seifer blanched, then held up his own hands to sign back, 'Okay, I'm sorry. Am I allowed to see the pictures now, or do I have to kiss you to make it better?'
Squall huffed and turned his head away.
Seifer rolled his eyes and held out a hand to Chris. "Please? I'm in those pictures too," he said, putting on a pitiful face.
Christal shook her head in amusement at the silent conversation, then handed a couple of the photos over. "Give one of those to Squall," she directed, "for your photo albums."
"Thanks, Chris," Seifer said as he turned the photo to get a good look at it. His breath caught at the sight of them standing together and smiling, recognising the smile on Squall's face as one of the rare few honest ones – the only one captured by a camera, that Seifer knew of. Squall looked absolutely fantastic, and Seifer couldn't help but think, 'Why didn't I notice him sooner?'
Ifrit and Quezacotl laughed at him while Tonberry chirped.
'Oh, shut up, the lot of you,' he shot at them before clearing his throat and saying, "We don't look half bad." He glanced up and found Squall watching him, a hint of worry in his eyes that faded away when Seifer offered him a smile. "Oh, here." He handed over one of the two photos, which Squall carefully slipped into the pocket of his hoodie, to be put away later.
"You really do look lovely together," Christal agreed absently, still looking down at her own copy. She looked up after a moment and smiled a bit hopefully. "Am I allowed to put this one up?"
The two teens traded uncertain looks for a moment. Christal liked to show off pictures of her two adopted sons, something they'd learned rather quickly after the adoption, as she set about appearing out of nowhere and snapping pictures, which she then spent hours over after they'd been developed, debating with herself about which ones she should put up around the house and in which rooms. She'd managed to talk them into posing in their SeeD uniforms, sans scar make-up, at one point and had wanted to put that one in the receiving room, but since most of the people they had over weren't aware that Squall and Seifer were SeeDs – and they intended to keep it that way – they very firmly told her no. That photo had ended up in Christal and Gregory's bedroom, never to be brought out. Other photos with their scars uncovered had met similar fates, though they wore their make-up around the house often enough that the receiving room, sitting room, dining room, and Gregory's study were plenty full of photos of one or both teens.
'Well?' Seifer signed, since just looking at each other wasn't getting them any closer to an answer. 'It's not showing our scars or any SeeD insignia, which are the only stipulations we made.'
Squall grimaced faintly. 'Well, no, but...' He paused, thinking of how to put what he wanted to say. 'We don't really look like our normal selves. I mean, your hair is dyed and I'm in a dress.'
'So that's a no?'
"Boys, I can't understand sign language," Christal reminded them with the faintest touch of irritation in her tone.
"Sorry, Chris," Seifer said aloud. "We were... debating about it."
"And?"
Before Seifer could say no, Squall hurried to suggest, "What if Seifer and I both put on our tuxes and you could take a picture of that to put out down here? And that one can stay in your room."
Seifer turned to him with a smile. "Yeah, that's not a bad idea."
Christal considered that for a moment, then sighed and said, "Oh, I suppose. But you both look so lovely in this one..."
"But this way, you'll have a photo of us dressed up that you can share around, telling people, 'These are my sons', rather than having to explain why one of them is dressed like a girl," Seifer offered.
Christal nodded. "I know." Then her eyes lit up and she looked up at them. "I actually already have a photo of the two of you in tuxes."
"What? From when?" Squall demanded. Other than last night, they'd never dressed up so finely while in Deling City.
"The first time you stayed with us," Christal admitted. "Ruby was taking pictures at a couple of those parties and she got a shot of both of you with Greg and me, as well as a couple shots of just the two of you. She gave them to me shortly after you left and I forgot about them."
Squall and Seifer chorused, "We want copies."
Christal laughed. "I think that can be arranged."