Chapter 4
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(Morons don't realize I hold the fate of their world in the palm of my hands.) Seifer slouched down into his booth and flicked cigarette ashes right onto the table. (Sky above only knows how many fucking sorceresses there are out there, just waiting to wreak havoc on our peaceful little planet. Getting Rinoa's possess-able ass is only the first installment of what ought to be Galbadia's modus operandi.) A cocky half-smile formed on his face as he continued to drift away in his thoughts. (General Almasy doesn't sound too bad. Can't be half as homosexual as 'Headmaster Leonhart.' Who knows? Maybe Rinoa's just a cover, a name like that belongs in gay porn.)
"SEIFER."
He gave a curt nod to the owner of the extremely loud monotone. "Won't you sit down, Fuu?" he said, forming the words carefully.
His old friend scrutinized him twice as well as anyone else could, slight vision impairment aside, and smoothed a hand self-consciously over the locks she'd dyed brown for the sake of being inconspicuous. Inconspicuous as she possibly could be, anyway. Strain entered her features as she attempted to lower her voice. "whats with caraway?"
Recovering from his surprise at seeing her, he rolled his eyes and mouthed his reply. Chickening out a bit. Too many feelings involved. He wants to see her before I slap the jewelry on her.
Fuijin pursed her lips and began to open her mouth to speak as much of her mind as she could. A simple gesture from Seifer, and her mouth hang agape for a different reason. She made a few moments of her own. How'd you know I could sign?
His movements were halting, slow, but also accurate. I asked Raijin about it. He didn't know much, but I took advantage of Caraway's library. He shook his head and stuck out his tongue.
She crossed her arms. "FOOL. SPELL OUT TOO MUCH."
Crossing his arms in a different way, he gave her a reply that didn't need to be spelt out.
Don't burn yourself with the cancer-stick, sweetheart. The sarcasm in her face helped convey her meaning loud and clear.
I didn't do this for you. I figured it would help out in missions of high security.
A smirk. You are too selfish for anything else. She waved a waitress over. "WHISKEY SOUR."
"Hard stuff, little Fuu–" He stopped abruptly when she raised her uncovered eyebrow and pointed to the row of dry shot glasses in front of him. "Relaxin' before a mission, babe."
He'd obviously stopped concentrating on clear enunciation and Fuijin saw the unmistakable slur of intoxication. So I guess I'm relaxing before I have to drag you to your place.
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The waitress came back with not only the whiskey sour, but another shot for the slightly coherent gentleman. He nodded to her. "Me and this lady, we have an understanding, Fuu!"
The girl slapped a check down on the table. "Figured you didn't notice that this is last call." She pranced away.
"Guess I ain't getting her number, eh?" Seifer downed the shot before examining the check. "I'll cover you, too, out of the kindness of my heart," he continued, tossing a few bills down onto the table.
Caraway pays you enough to be kind.
"Still snappy, aren't you? Why'd you come to my regular joint anyway? I thought you were trying to move on from our old teenage days."
He'd finally gotten her complete attention away from her drink, now half-finished. We all miss old times. Sometimes.
"Are you still bitter about me taking the job with Caraway? I know that you didn't vote for him."
Never bitter. I was mad at you for compromising.
He leaned closer in and spoke quite clearly. "So did you read the letters?"
Fuijin laughed. "knew where to find ya, didn't i?" She finished her drink, rolling her eyes all the while.
"I want to catch up. Will you come with me?"
She nodded.
"Let's blow this joint!" The two of them walked out of the bar, Seifer being firmly kept upright by the strength of Fuijin's arm.
* * * * * *
The sun streamed through the windowpane, and the young woman who had been fast asleep slowly began to stir. She'd been up for quite some time the night before and it was well past noon.
Ellone shook the sleep out of her system and sat up. With a jerk, she turned her head towards the window. She jumped up and looked outside, searching for any signs of disorder. Nothing was happening except for the normal lunch bustle of the people who worked around the presidential mansion.
Trying to rid herself of the weird foreboding in the back of her mind, she plodded downstairs to Laguna's large kitchen, which her apartment was just located off of. Kiros was there to greet her. "Good afternoon," he said wryly.
She waved him off.
"When did you get in this time?"
"Oh only about three in the morning or so. That's pretty good for us."
"This research stuff is going to kill you, Ell." There was a twinkle behind the concerned look he gave her.
"I'll be fine." She flashed him a curious look. "I'd like to know what you're doing in our kitchen in the middle of a workday."
"I was here to pick up a few things that Laguna wanted in the office, and I noticed this." He gestured to a very elaborate bouquet that was sitting on the table in the adjacent dining room. "I figured that you might be around and about if I waited a few minutes and would be able to explain it."
"Me?" Ellone raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so..." She walked over. "I can't believe you're making me play detective before I've had any coffee. There's a card right on it, anyway." Opening the envelope, she pulled it out.
To Ellone Loire. Congratulations on your work. From Dr. Rourke, Intech Inc. of Dollet.
"What do you make of this, Kiros?" she asked.
"Not any more than you did when I first read it," he admitted.
"Why would you looked at the envelope? It's not like they would have been for you." She stuck out her tongue. "But still, there are a lot of rare and exquisite plants in this mix. Sounds like a nerd, maybe he grows stuff in a greenhouse just to send to pretty girls," she laughed.
"My suggestion is you get dressed and bring it over to your 'uncle' and see what he makes of it."
"I'll put it on my list, to do right after I type up a report. I never get a day off now that I work with Odine," Ellone lamented with a sigh.
* * * * * *
Rinoa smoothed back her hair for the umpteenth time, grimacing in the full-length mirror in front of her.
"It's fine," Squall said, exasperated. "The cab's already outside waiting. Besides, I'd think this would be the last place you would care what you looked like."
She tilted her head, scrutinizing the reflection in the glass. "I care because I'm here to say goodbye." She met his eyes and gave him a tight smile. "Where's my handbag?"
He held it up. "Come on, we better hurry."
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The ride through Deling City was quicker than expected. Since the weather had held up as forcasted, the ceremony was being held outside in front of the gates, a.k.a. the location of the failed assassination attempt on Edea.
"I hope there's a bit better guard on the situation here than there was last time we were here, huh Rin?" Squall was out in front, looking for the special box that had been reserved for SeeD.
"Yeah," she replied, her mind elsewhere. (Everything seems to be going a little too smoothly. I'd have expected a few Timber resistance members to have hidden themselves around) she thought with a bit of disappointment.
He grabbed her hand. "Hey, I think the place up these steps is our seat. Nice and private." As the two of them stepped inside, he whistled in approval. "Just what I thought. That screen only goes one-way. We can see out, no one can see in." He flashed her a conspiratory look.
Rinoa met his eyes, then opened her mouth in shock. "You can't possibly be thinking that!" She stuck out her tongue. "It's probably hard for people to see through until the lights go on full blast outside. Then no one would be paying attention to the ceremony, they'd be gaping at how idiotic we are."
"If your father came up afterwards to surprise us, too, I doubt he'd feel any more comfortable with you in Balamb."
"You know I don't care about that!"
He grinned. "Then maybe it would be a good idea anyway."
Smacking him playfully, she made her way over to the seats. "Well, they're cushy enough I suppose," she said as she plopped herself onto one. "When does this damn thing start, anyway?"
"Four-thirty. Early, but all the bars here would complain if it cut into their business."
"What do you know about bars?"
Squall sat down next to her. "Nowhere near enough. Must be the reason this place bores me to death."
"No. My father just single-handedly ruins the atmosphere of entire cities. And now he's got a country in his hands." Rinoa's tone was pessimistic.
