When I arrived in FH, I had more questions than answers, but no time to ponder any of them. I was going to be late for my meeting with Danny's contact, so I bypassed the newly renovated hotel and headed straight for the contact's cabin on the other side of town. I knocked on the door, still frustrated that I couldn't get Gideon off my mind. I was so deep in thought, the pretty blond woman who answered the door startled me when she said, "Can I help you, Miss?"
"Yes, I'm Rogue Amos. I'm here to see Leon."
"Come in," she said without smiling.
Inside, a man stood at the window, his back to me. There was something about his posture, the careless hunch of his shoulders and the color of his shaggy hair . . . .it all reminded me of him. I thought I was going crazy. After so much time, I should have been able to get over him. Now complete strangers were starting to resemble him from behind.
When he turned around, my breath caught in my throat. He'd grown a beard since I'd last seen him, but his blue eyes were the same.
Gideon.
It was Gideon, Daddy. Right there in front of me. At first, I took it as a sign of my complete and total madness. It couldn't be him, surely. It made no sense at all that he would be the one I was supposed to meet with. My head spun, and my thoughts were fragmented and random. Maybe I'd made a mistake and come to the wrong house. Maybe I was imagining this, I was hallucinating. Gideon was Leon. But he wasn't supposed to be. My mental image of Leon was one of an older man, overweight with an ever growing bald spot on the crown of his head.
Of course, when I put it together later, Leon, Leonhart, it made sense. But at the time, I truly thought I was losing it.
If he recognized me, he made no indication. "Please, have a seat, Miss Amos."
I sat, willing myself to be strong. I hadn't seen him in four years, and now, here he was, right in front of me, and he worked for the enemy. It was a wonder that I managed to keep my hands from trembling.
"So, you're Danny's girl," he began.
"I'm not his girl. I'm not a piece of property,"
He laughed as if I'd said something terribly funny. "He was right. You are a firecracker."
"Can we get to the point?" I asked. "I didn't come here to talk about me."
"Of course. My price is 500,000 gil."
"You must be joking. What do you think I am, an idiot? Half a million gil?"
"No joke. That's my price. Oh, and if you'd like the electrical schematics, it's an extra hundred grand."
I sat back in my chair, feeling my confidence return. Obviously, Gideon was trying to run a scam on me, and not doing a very good job of it, either. He and I both knew that those prints were worth less than half that amount, with the wiring and plumbing plans included. "Look," I said, "there's another guy who's willing to sell those same blueprints for fifty. Danau told me to come to you first because he said you'd give him a good deal. Is this your idea of a deal? Trying to rip us off?"
He appeared startled. He'd been convinced I was buying his charm, and I could tell I'd rattled him. "I'm sure, for that price they are inferior plans."
"I doubt it. That other contact is the engineer who designed the silo." I was lying, but I could tell that he believed every word I said.
"Engineer or not, he's a fool for offering that price, especially to Danau."
I shrugged. "Not my problem. Match his price, and I'll buy from you. If not, my business goes elsewhere, and your dealings with Danny are over."
"You're bluffing," he said. I was glad to see that I'd killed a little of his confidence.
"Am I? What reason do I have to bluff? You and I both know that Danny can afford to pay what you're asking." I was pleased with the haughty tone in my voice. I'd almost forgotten that it was Gideon that I was speaking to. Almost.
At that moment, something in his eyes told me that he knew me, he recognized me. A brief moment when his eyes lingered on my lips too long, just as he'd done when we were young. The last time I'd seen him do that was the day before his final SeeD exam, in the infirmary. He'd injured me in training. Held my hand as the doctor sutured a wound Gideon himself had inflicted without meaning to.
Sometimes, memories hurt you physically. You feel them in your gut, in your skin. For an instant, I could feel the tip of his blade slice into my arm, deep, to the bone. I could feel it slice through the skin of my back, the touch of cold steel as it ripped through my flesh, and I shuddered. The scar tissue in those two places suddenly began to crawl and itch. It was all I could do to keep my hands from going to them.
"Alright, fifty," he said with a sigh. "Hyne, woman, you drive a hard bargain."
I smiled, shrugging off the memory. Maybe his prolonged gaze had been my imagination. Wishful thinking, maybe. "How do you think I got to be Danny's girl?" I asked, a little sarcastic, but mostly in jest.
"Araynia, bring me the plans," he called to the girl who'd answered the door.
"Just a minute," she called back.
"Your girlfriend?" I asked
"My assistant. What about you? Single, or are you Danny's girl in every sense?"
"Consider me Danny's assistant, and nothing more."
"That's not an answer."
"Single."
"Good, then you're free for dinner tonight."
"Look, you're an attractive man, but I'm not interested." Was he hitting on me? If he truly recognized me, then perhaps he was testing the waters, so to speak. To see if I'd betray my identity.
"Ouch," he said with a laugh. Araynia brought the plans in, and I began to count the stacks of Gil. "Alright, Rogue Amos, one set of blueprints, wiring included."
"Fifty grand," I replied with a grin. "Been a pleasure doing business with you."
"Wish I could say the same," he said and scratched his beard. "Sure I can't interest you in a dinner later? A drink, maybe?"
"No thank you," I said, hoisting my bag up on my shoulder.
"Of course," he said. "Forget I asked."
It was all I could do not to run all the way to Timber.
Had I not had a part to play, I would have asked him all the questions
that had been plaguing me over the last four years. But I couldn't.
I thought maybe, after I was done with this mission, I'd come back and
find out why. Maybe I'd tell Squall where he was, so that he could
have peace of mind. After all, none of knew if he was dead or alive
in all that time.
At least now I knew, and I knew some of what he'd been doing. It wasn't any kind of relief, though. I felt burdened. All this time he was healthy, alive, and not so terribly far away. Not once had he written or called. How selfish, I thought. He must have known that we all worried about him. That his family missed him, and I missed him. It would be much easier to understand, though painful, if he'd died somewhere along the line. At least then he'd have an excuse for not contacting anyone.
I checked into the hotel and wondered what I'd do with myself for the next couple of days. I didn't want to go out for fear that I'd blow my cover should I meet him again. I was afraid that if our paths crossed, I'd have a moment of weakness and spout off all the reasons why he was a selfish bastatrd.
In the end, I decided to go to the bar downstairs for a drink and a little nosh. I'd missed breakfast and lunch, so, by the time I'd showered and changed, I was ravenous. I checked my appearance in the mirror. The short red dress was appropriate for dining in a seedy place like the Horizons pub. Nothing fancy, just a simple spigot strap dress with a decent neckline that revealed nothing and a short hem. It was hot and humid outside anyway, so I could get away with it even if it was a little too classy for a fisherman's hangout. I pinned my hair up to keep it from sticking to my neck and realized how much I looked like mom with my hair done that way.
I ordered the catch of the day and a shot of tequila. The food was great, the tequila even better. When I finished my meal, I went to the bar and ordered a double shot with a lime. At this hour, the bar was nearly empty, but it was early. It wasn't that I was looking to pick someone up, but it wouldn't hurt. Maybe a night of foolish, irresponsible sex would be just the thing I needed to get Gideon off my mind.
The bartender eyed me with suspicion as I knocked back the shot then ate the lime. He didn't say anything, but he poured me another and placed it on the bar in front of me without asking. Beside it, he placed a bowl of limes. I smiled to myself. Did I look like I was ready to get smashed? Probably. I'm sure he had seen enough weary customers to tell when someone's agenda included drinking themselves silly. I've heard bartenders know more about human nature than anyone, and they can read people without even trying. Obviously, this man could.
I picked up the shot glass, tilted my head back and downed my third drink of the night. Suddenly, something touched my back, something that trailed from my left shoulder blade to the edge of my dress. I jumped and the shot glass clattered to the floor, shattering into a thousand tiny shards.
I spun around to see Gideon standing behind me with a strange half smile on his face. "I knew it was you," he said as he took the empty seat beside me.
"Hey, Leon," the bartender said, "You wanna clean up that mess you just made?"
"Sure thing, Harden," Gideon-Leon replied and he grabbed a broom from behind the counter. I watched silently as he swept up the shards of glass. So he did recognize me.
When he finished, he returned to the stool next to me. "I knew it was you."
"Me?" I played dumb.
"Micala." He grinned at me. "I knew it the minute I saw you."
"My name is Rogue," I said flatly and I accepted another shot of Tequila from Harden the silent bartender.
"Tequila." Gideon said.
"What of it?"
"It's always been your drink of choice."
"Mine? Only when I want to get crocked."
He ordered himself a drink and smiled to himself. "How are my parents?"
"Don't know your parents." Suddenly, all I wanted to do was go back to my room. I knew if I kept drinking, and he kept talking, I was going to blow it.
"Drop the act. That scar on your arm. The one on your back. They give you away."
The worst injuries I'd ever received were the ones that came from the tip of his blade. I'd been grazed by bullets, had my head split open, broken bones, but those two had been the worst. They'd been deep wounds that took months to heal.
Beneath his shirt were a couple that I'd given him, and they were just as bad. Still, he'd been the only one who'd ever bested me in training.
"Leave your gunblade at home?" he asked. He was mocking me.
"Why don't you just leave me alone?" I croaked. "I'm not who you think I am."
He sipped his drink and stared at me. "You're still angry with me for leaving."
I didn't reply. I wanted so badly to rip him a new one, but I couldn't. Danny had people everywhere, and I was sure that FH was no different. One slip and the whole mission would have to be scrapped.
"Why are you dressed like that? This is the kind of dress a woman wears when she's looking to get picked up."
"I am but you're scaring away all my prospects," I said sarcastically. There was no one in the pub but the two of us and a couple of old men watching golf on the television.
He laughed at this and patted my arm. "What if I'm interested?"
"Not a chance in hell." I looked him in the eye when I said this, and I meant it. I was no pushover. It angered me that he even thought there might be a possibility of me going to bed with him.
"How about a duel, gunblade to gunblade, for old times sake?" He was joking, but I didn't find it funny in the least.
I glanced at the bartender, who was helping the old men near the television, and I hissed. "I'd gladly beat the shit out of you, but not to relive old times."
"Because I left?"
"Yeah," I admitted. So he'd done it. Mission failed.
"So it is you," he whispered. "And of all the places and situations to run into you."
"Don't get sentimental on me," I warned. "I really don't want to talk to you right now."
He paused to light a cigarette.
"You smoke now too?" I asked.
"I do," he agreed. "How's my family?"
"Ask them yourself."
"Micala, I realize you're angry with me," he began but I cut him off.
"Not angry. Furious. And don't call me that. My name is Rogue," I whispered. The bartender returned to the bar and set about wiping down the counters in the back.
"Sorry," Gideon apologized. "I can understand why you're mad."
"Can you?" I asked. I placed fifty Gil on the bar and stood up. "It was nice talking to you, Leon."
"Micala, wait," he called and followed me towards the stairs that lead to my room.
I spun on my heel and glared at him. "For the last time, my name is Rogue. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to my room."
"Is this young man bothering you, miss?" Harden the bartender asked, his eyes darting from me to Gideon.
"No sir," I replied. "He thought I was someone I'm not."
Gideon wouldn't leave it alone. He followed me to my room, pleading for me to listen. "Just give me a chance," he whispered as I slipped my key into the lock.
"Why should I?" I asked. "What possible reason would I have to listen after all this time?"
"Because I know you want to hear it. You're just being stubborn."
He was right, of course. There were so many things I needed to ask him. So many things I wanted to say. I guess I needed to understand.
"I'll give you twenty minutes," I said. "But not here."
He looked pleased. "I've got a little row boat. We could take it out and look at the stars."
"Twenty minutes," I reminded him.
"Fine, but rowing time doesn't count."
"Agreed."
I know I shouldn't have admitted to my real identity. My curiosity had gotten the better of me, but I just couldn't help myself.
You know, daddy, some times I ask for trouble. That's something
else I inherited from you. But I'm not sure if I go looking for it,
or if it comes looking for me.