Rating: PG-13

A/N: Wow! I got this one done quick! My biggest distraction is gone...at a friend's house actually, lol.

Chapter 7: Common Ground

The strange, orange colored tea sat at the bottom of Quistis' cup. She looked down at it, licking her lips a little to savor the strange, spicy taste. It was supposed to be soothing. Whether it actually was or not was beyond the point, her relaxing muscles were as much a part of her mind as what was in her stomach. Seifer was behind her, eating his lunch.

How long had it been that she'd been stuck with him? A week? It certainly felt like it had been a week, when really no less than a day; surely, the longest twenty four hours of her life.

She hadn't slept since taking him into custody, and she knew she would have to at some point. The question of whether she could trust Seifer was still up in the air. He'd raised it himself in the argument that they had. In a way, she was afraid of him, but not like he thought. It didn't particularly frighten her that physically he was extraordinarily imposing. She'd fought off enough monsters twice her size and at least three times her mass that physicality had begun to mean very little to her. Seifer's mind was what frightened her. He was capable of anything, he was a caged animal, feral and instinctive.

"What did you say this was?" Seifer asked the tavern keeper. Quistis once again vowed to find out the man's name.

"Plant the grows up in the hills during August," the man replied, peeking out of the kitchen. "Blue flowery type of thing, that's the roots your eating. Delicious, eh?"

"Very good," Seifer nodded. "Any sort of plants that grow through the winter?"

"Not really." Quistis was only half listening to the conversation. It was beyond her why Seifer was suddenly taking an interest in the local flora. His sudden apparent passion for horticulture was, perhaps, just a way to fill the silence.

"Nothing? Do you just stock up during the summer, or what?"

"Well, some of the shrubs have good roots," he replied. "Berry growing ones aren't very good to chew on. Mostly in the winter, I go for the game."

"Mezmerise?"

"Pretty good if you get 'em in the right season. They're no good in spring when they come out of the mountains...taste like sage."

Quistis wasn't even about to ask what was in her tea, figuring that she was better off oblivious. Outside, the snow was still falling, although it had slowed to soft flakes drifting down. What she could see over the snow bank looked almost inviting. The wind had blown a huge drift against the back side of the building, blocking her window. The front door was firmly anchored shut with a good few feet of solid snow pack. Almost as an afterthought, she realized how lucky she'd been to find a place to stay as the blizzard passed, knowing she would have never survived out in it.

"So, you're really a SeeD?"

She perked up, becoming aware of the man sitting next to her. One of the other men trapped with them, tall and lanky with greasy hair and a few missing teeth.

"Yeah," she replied.

"From one a them Gardens?" he asked.

"Yeah, in Balamb," she covered the top of her cup with her hand, hoping to keep any of her unwanted companion's errant spittle from getting in her tea.

"Balamb?" he looked thoughtful for a moment. "Never been there. Seaside place, right? Never been fond of the ocean, mountain kind of man myself."

"I don't like the snow," Quistis admitted.

"Better'n rain," he shrugged. "So...you're trained then? Combat and the like? Magic?"

"Yeah...I'm trained."

"Oh...so...how'd they train you?" His constant questions, though genuinely full of curiosity, were getting on Quistis' nerves.

"Seifer is a trained mercenary as well, perhaps you should ask him," she announced, glancing at the blonde. His green eyes went quickly from her to the man at her side. He obviously didn't want the fellow with him any more than Quistis did.

The man took one look at Seifer, and turned back to Quistis.

"What sorta weapon do you use?"

"A whip," she replied, stifling a sigh.

"Not very scary," he noted. She'd known when she picked the whip as a weapon that there was a blatant lack of respect for it. When used correctly, the tip of a whip exceeded the speed of sound. A whip expert was a person to fear, able to attack faster than almost any other weapons specialist.

"Very scary when you're on the wrong end," Seifer interceded. "Flick of her wrist'd take out your eye."

The man visibly tensed.

"Oh...really?" He looked questioningly at Quistis, and she nodded gravely. With a short, slightly nervous farewell, he departed to the other side of the bar. Smiling and finishing off her tea, Quistis walked over to Seifer's lone table and sat down across from him.

"Thanks."

"No problem," he shrugged.

Quistis had to admit, all things considered, Seifer was her preferred company among the men she was trapped with. If for no other reason than she knew exactly what to expect of him, and that he was relatively clean and whole.

"I could use the chance to clean up a bit," he suddenly announced under his breath. "Haven't bathed for a while, I've gotta be getting rank."

"I hadn't noticed," she admitted. "I still have the bath in my room, I don't think it's been missed."

"Probably not," he agreed.

She nodded and waited for him to finish eating. It was strange how they, having known one another so long but never liking each other, suddenly found themselves on a sort of level footing. In a strange land, with strange people, the very fact that they were familiar to one another drew them together. Quistis was still fully aware of who and what he was, but it was nice to see a face that she'd seen many times before (and even had all it's teeth).

Working together in some sort of silent agreement, they filled the tub with hot water, carrying it up the stairs from the one faucet in the entire building in buckets. Quistis' shoulder ached by the time they got it full, and Seifer had done more than his fair share of the work. Heaving a long sigh, she flopped down onto the bed.

"Whew...done."

Seifer paused in the middle of the room.

"Yeah...all done..." he looked at her, waiting.

Quistis nodded, motioning toward the water with her hand and laying back. It'd be a nice chance, she figured, to take a nap. The entire room was warmed by the steamy water and the rising humidity was making her feel more at home.

"Aren't you going to, ya know...leave?" he asked.

"No," she lifted her head a little. "I can't just leave you alone in here to do whatever."

"You can stand right outside the door!" he barked. "I'm going to be in the fricking tub! Come on!"

"Yeah, and when I come back in and you've somehow found a way to arm yourself, I suppose you'll still insist you were just taking a bath," she scoffed.

"What the hell...?" he shook his head. "You're just going to sit there and watch me?"

"No!" Her face flushed. "I'm not going to watch you! Hyne, you're disgusting!" A confused look crossed his face, and he opened his mouth to say something only to decide otherwise and shut it again. "I won't peek," she promised, rolling so her back was to him.

"I can't just take a bath while you're right there," he insisted.

"Seifer," she sighed. "You're being bull-headed. Either sit there reeking like a dead snow lion, or get in the water."

"Yeah, like you'd just be willing to strip down and bathe while I sat three feet away!" he waved his hands around erratically.

"Shy?"

"No..."

"Then what's the problem?" she asked. "Hyne...I'm going to be taking a nap. I won't bother you, and I certainly would never want to look. So, just get it over with."

"If you're going to be sleeping anyway, why don't you just sit outside the door?" he asked.

"Because I don't trust you as far as I can throw you," she replied, a firm timbre coming into her voice. "And I probably couldn't even pick you up if I tried. So, this is how it's going to be. I'd rather you be uncomfortable at my infringing upon your privacy than wander in and be killed by my own knitting needles or something!"

"Damn it, Quistis," he sighed. "I'm not going to kill you."

"And I'm just supposed to trust you?"

"Fine!" he ground out and pulled off his shoes. "If you look, I swear I'll get you for it!" His eyes were extremely hostile.

"Like I'd really want to," she rolled her eyes and turned toward the wall again. She could hear various items of clothing falling to the floor, and eventually she heard him step into the water. The sloshing was relaxing, and with a low sigh she closed her eyes.

She was surprised at the images that immediately filled the darkness. Seifer behind her, immersed in the warm water, a ruddy color to his skin. Shaking her head, she tried to drive the image away. It was reinforced by the sound of him moving in the water, driving her crazy.

What the hell? A little panicked, she focused on something else. The first thing that came to her mind was, oddly enough, Matron. Quistis hadn't seen her surrogate mother in a very long time, and she felt a sudden pang of regret. The woman who had taken her and so many other children in, and what sort of gratitude did she show her? Edea's love for her children was unconditional, even Seifer. Quistis was never sure what Edea saw in the troubled boy. She still wasn't. However, Matron was one of the fallen knight's sternest supporters.

"Hey, Seifer? Have you talked to Matron?" she asked, only realizing the words had tumbled out of her mouth when he answered with a firm negative.

"Why do you care?" he asked.

"Was just wondering," she admitted. "She's still on your side, you know."

"Didn't think anybody was on my side."

"I think Edea would probably be on your side no matter what," Quistis announced, believing it wholeheartedly. She was sure that Seifer could murder hundreds of people, and Edea would insist that he'd fallen down some wrong path on life. If she was anything, she was loyal. For some reason, Quistis figured that Seifer should know he wasn't completely alone.

"We have a towel or anything?" he asked, an edge to his voice. "Oh, never mind...found it." Quistis heard him get out of the water, but the provocative image was gone. It had been replaced by that of a little boy, sandy blonde and mischievously naughty. The same boy who cried when he fell, who huddled into the arms of his mother when he was sick. Fallible, not quite as strong as he liked to think, and more loved than he realized.