This story has literally taken over my life - I feel like I've been writing in every spare second I have (...which is pretty true). I'm glad you all like it! Thanks for all the feedback - please do continue to let me know what you think.

But on that note - sorry about the "delay" in updating (I've been adding chapters like a crazy person, I know, and I'm sure you guys have come to depend on it, right? heh heh). The sun came out in Cleveland today - which never happens - and I was out enjoying it. Hope you didn't mind waiting for this one!







Chapter Seven







"Aww, Quistis."

"No way, Zell."

"Just one?"

"It's not my fault you were late." Quistis primly crossed her legs and lifted her can of soda to her lips to hide the smile.

Zell's shoulders slumped. "I didn't know they were closing early!" he exclaimed in his usual fashion. "And you're never gonna eat all those hot dogs!"

Quistis's eyes flashed above the soda, meeting Zell's. "Is that a dare?" she asked nonchalantly. "I can certainly eat all these hot dogs. What are you putting on the line?"

"No, Quistis," Zell insisted, almost whining. "I don't want you to eat the hot dogs. I want to eat them myself."

Quistis rolled her eyes and slid the plate across the table to Zell. "You'd better leave some for Selphie," she insisted as they began to disappear.

"Better save some what for me?" Selphie asked as she threw her bag into a waiting chair and sat down beside Quistis. "Ooh, hot dogs. Yum."

"I'm giving my first real test today," Zell said through a mouthful.

"Hah!" Selphie covered the bun with massive amounts of ketchup. "I already gave an essay. And Irvine gave a pop quiz!"

"I'm nervous," Zell whined. "Gimme another 'dog, Q?"

"Hot dogs don't help your nerves," Quistis said prissily. Zell pouted and finally she gave in, tossing the last bun at him. "Don't come to me when you're sick to your stomach like last time," she warned.

"Mmmf." Zell chewed and swallowed. "Who am I, Zone? I can handle my stomach."

Selphie glanced at her watch. "Crap," she said, "I have to run - Festival Committee meeting. Thanks for lunch, Q."

"Any time, Fee."

They watched as she ran happily through the caf, waving at a table of students in the corner; their faces brightened at the cheerful greeting from cute little Instructor Tilmitt and they all waved happily.

"How can she be so awake?" Quistis murmured, her lips barely moving. "She's been out late every night this week."

"With who?" Zell wiped ketchup from his chin.

"Over at Irvine's," Quistis said, still watching Selphie. She had paused to chat with one of the boys at the table - obviously from her class - and then smacked her forehead, remembering the meeting. She turned hastily, calling out a goodbye - and literally ran into Irvine's chest.

He caught her as she lost her balance, giving her a silly smile.

She grinned, hanging onto his arms for support. "Thanks, Vin. I have to run."

He let her go and she took off, throwing a glance over her shoulder to say goodbye. Irvine sighed, straightened his cowboy hat, and headed over to sit with Zell and Quistis.

The students at the corner table were giving him glares, and he gestured over to them with a smile: "Is that the first batch of Selphites?"

Quistis looked at him, confused, and then burst out laughing. "Selphites?" she said finally when she caught her breath. "You're ridiculous."

"Hey, you have your own," he said with a shrug. "So does she."

"You guys all have your little clans," Zell said, feigning bitterness. "Nobody likes me."

"I know one girl who likes you," Quistis teased.

Zell's head shot up. "Who?"

Irvine tried not to laugh. "Well, she has brown hair, and she works in the library..."

"And she's always wearing a pigtail," Quistis finished.

Zell looked at them, confused. "But I know her. She doesn't - heeeeey!"

He realized they were teasing him and tossed a napkin at Quistis; she primly deflected it before it hit her in the forehead. Irvine had to laugh at Zell's indignant reaction.

"Hmph." The blond boy crossed his arms over his chest, head dropping. "You guys can just go back to your Trepies and ...whatever."

Irvine tossed the crumpled napkin back at Zell. "I don't have any admirers, buddy. So don't worry."

Zell looked at him in disbelief. "You've got all the girls!"

Irvine threw furtive glances over his shoulders. "What girls? I sure don't see any. Disappointing."

Quistis laughed and teased, "Well, I know a girl who likes you, too."

Irvine stolidly raised an eyebrow.

Zell laughed. "Yeah, even I know this one. She has brown hair, and she works here, in Balamb..."

"I don't want to steal your girl, Zell," Irvine said, oblivious.

"She's an Instructor," Quistis continued, "and she's always wearing yellow..."

Irvine looked straight at her, his gaze mildly amused. "You're in a good mood this morning, Q," he said. "Any reason?"

She smiled and sipped her drink. "It's not morning any more, Irvine dear," she said.

"Is that enough to brighten your day?"

Quistis shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I slept well last night."

Zell stood up suddenly, his eyes locked on the door. "I've gotta run," he said hastily, almost tripping over his chair in his hurry.

Quistis and Irvine both turned to see him hustle out the door and catch up with a familiar cadet in navy blue, brown hair pulled back in a familiar pigtail that bounced when she walked. The two friends turned to each other and burst out laughing.

"Zell's a dear," Quistis said, hastily wiping her eyes, "but he's not the brightest."

"Don't be too hard on him," Irvine said, scanning the table for food. "Not everyone can be a genius like you."

She flushed and smacked him. "Go get yourself some food," she ordered. "And then come back, I want to talk to you."

"Spending time with a lovely lady? I wouldn't miss it."

Quistis grumbled cheerfully and gave Irvine a firm push toward the cafeteria window. He returned a few minutes later with a hamburger and steaming fresh fries; Quistis nabbed one before he could sit down and popped it in her mouth with a grin.

"Tsk tsk, Instructor," Irvine said gently. "You wouldn't rob a poor SeeD of his lunch, now, would you?"

She sipped nonchalantly on her can of soda, giving him the patented Trepe look. Irvine shrugged and settled into his lunch.

"You've sure been keeping my roommate out late," Quistis said casually. Irvine could hear the weight of her words, however, and inwardly winced. What is this, the third degree?

"Has it been keeping you up?" Irvine asked innocently.

"Of course not, twit," she said endearingly. "I'm just curious about you two."

"Nosy little Quisty," Irvine murmured.

"Oh, can it." Quistis leant over and took another fry. "Everyone's intrigued. Is it true love?"

Irvine stuck his tongue out. "You sound like Rinoa."

Quistis make an odd retching sound. "Shoot me."

"Heh." Irvine chuckled gently. "Quite the insult, eh, Q?"

Quistis was flushed a little red; she pushed her hair out of her face, saying quickly: "No, sir, get back to the point. What are you doing all night with my roommate?"

"Do you really want an answer to that?"

Her head snapped up, glaring; then she saw the sparkle in his eyes and had to giggle. "No way."

"No." He lifted his hands as if in defense. "No way. We've just been ...talking."

Night after wonderful night, Selphie curled up on the end of the couch, listening to stories about the past. Asking questions. Absorbing information - no, not just absorbing; reaching out and grabbing it, swallowing it, devouring every little fact and then begging for more. Sparkling eyes, laughter and tears. Citrus and sunshine. And someone who finally cares enough to listen.

"Talking about the past," Irvine finished. "Selphie wanted to know more about ...where she came from, what happened to her. What happened to all of us. That's all."

Quistis sighed, her eyes strangely dulled. "The past," she said softly.

"She wants a past," Irvine said gently. "I think she'll take any past she can get." He reached out and patted Quistis on the arm. "We're just hanging out, Q. Nothing to worry about. If you'd like to come, we can all talk."

Quistis smiled wistfully. "I'd ruin it," she said. "Selphie has been happier than I've ever seen her in the past week, Irvine. Whatever you've done for her - she appreciates it. I couldn't intrude on that."

"Why not?" Irvine shifted closer. "We were all there, Q. My memories are for everyone - or, at least, anyone who wants them." He grinned. "They come free with the incredible package that is me ...or at least cheap," he amended with a wink.

Quistis gave him a deadpan glare, and he threw his arms wide, laughing. "C'mon, Q, come and get it while it's fresh!"

Her jaw dropped. "I don't believe you just yelled that in the middle of the cafeteria," she said.

Irvine flushed, but smiled playfully. "C'mon, Quisty. I'm just trying to get you to smile."

She gave him a half-hearted grin. "It works better on Fee than me, I'm sure. But thanks."

He settled back into the chair, concerned. "Quist, what's wrong? You were in a stellar mood three minutes ago. Don't tell me you're bipolar."

She sighed. "It's - it's nothing, Irvine. Just thinking about everything. The past and the present. And the future."

"Heavy stuff," he replied. "Want some ice cream?"

"Yes, please."

Irvine dashed up to the counter and returned just as quickly, slapping two bowls of creamy vanilla down on the table. Quistis managed a smile.

"Look, Q," he said kindly. "I know you don't like to talk about things - but if you need me, I'll be around. Seff's got duties tonight, so I'll probably be working on the papers for my class."

Quistis stabbed at her ice cream with a spoon. "You're making the snipers write papers?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I'm making them diagram the guns, really, so it's not a real paper." He swallowed a spoonful of ice cream and laughed. "I got jealous, what with all the grading you guys were doing."

Quistis gave a good-natured groan. "Don't remind me," she said, finally laughing. "You should see the stuff I've leveled on my kids. I have no idea what I was thinking!"

"What are you making them do?'

She ticked off on her fingers. "Oral reports on Junction Theory, long papers on Limit Break Theory and a lab on Ability Junction. Ugh!"

"Good Hyne, Q," Irvine said, tucking away his ice cream. "I don't think even I could pass those classes!"

"It's not enough," Quistis said, shaking her head, glowing golden tresses flying. "You should have seen their first reports on Junctioning. I mean, everyone knows how to do it, but you'd think they'd never heard of the word strategy!"

Irvine laughed. "Quist, not everyone got the in-field experience that we did. They'll be alright."

"We had to learn by trial and error," she replied. "And we all got a couple bumps on the head from having the wrong magic in the wrong place at the wrong time. What if someone gets hurt?"

"Look, Q, if Squall had gotten hurt on the voyage, whose fault would it have been? Not yours, not mine. Not his Instructors'. Not Garden's. It's his fault."

Her face flamed bright red.

Irvine belatedly realized what he had been saying. Quistis was Squall's Instructor ...oh dear. "Quist ...oh, Q, you know what I mean," he said softly.

"These kids are going out into the world to fight for us," Quistis murmured. "I have to do everything I can."

"There's no one out there more capable than you," he said, and realized that he was telling the truth.

She looked up at him, her eyes full of questions. "Are you serious?" He nodded; she bowed her head, resting it in her hands. "I don't think so, sometimes," she said. "They told me I ...lacked good leadership qualities. That I was incapable of handling real problems." Her eyes flared momentarily. "Seifer." And then she laughed, bitterly. "And even Squall."

Irvine shook his head. "You couldn't have handled them," he said. "Not even Headmaster Cid could handle them. It was - even back when they were young, they knew all the right words to get at each other. It just ...it just happened on your watch, that's all."

"If I ...I could have controlled them," she said. "But I didn't use the authority I had."

"It's okay, Quisty," Irvine said. "You were young. And besides, they were your friends from the orphanage - some part of you must have remembered."

"I was certainly always drawn to them," she muttered.

She was withdrawing now; Irvine stood up to leave, recognizing the look of someone who wanted to be alone. "I should get going, Q. I have to go check on the range they're putting together for me." He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "Try to cheer up again. And if you can't, I'll be around tonight."

She smiled up at him. When did he become so kind? So - sincere? Hanging out with Selphie is doing wonders for him, I guess. "I'll keep that in mind, cowboy."

He smiled, tipping his hat with a black-gloved hand.

Irvine ambled along, his slow pace suiting his mood. He passed a giggling group of girls and gave them the usual smile-wink before he realized what he was doing. It's just politeness, he said, smiling at himself. Since when was he such a square?

He found himself heading outside to the small plot of land that Cid had commandeered as a practice range. He had offered to hire some engineers, but Irvine had wanted to put it together himself. He remembered the place he had trained at Galbadia - both its good and bad points - and wanted to improve on that system.

Irvine had a good mind for design. He had always liked working with his hands, and at times it seemed that ideas just presented themselves, waiting for his somewhat limited skill to implement them. He had been working on the training field in his spare time all week; his poor fingers were blistered where they broke out of his black gloves. But he had managed to build a nice stand and several intricate targets. He was putting the finishing touched on one now.

He found himself whistling as he lay on his back beneath the wooden contraption, connecting the wires that would enable him to remotely control the target's movements. There was something relaxing about this design work that pleased him - he liked the challenge, the organization of the invention. It required both creativity and perseverance; Irvine had the perfect combination of both (although neither alone were strong points).

He had created this set of targets with basically his bare hands; they were all rigged to a control he would wield. The plan was to interconnect the dummies so that once one was hit, the others reacted accordingly. If the system worked, it would be the most fantastic training center ever. But he wasn't so sure it would work.

A set of heavy footsteps approached, making Irvine lay down his tools and peek out from beneath the dummy. To his surprise, Squall stood there, carrying his typical stack of papers but wearing a very atypical smile.

"Hey," Irvine grunted, "gimme a sec."

"No hurry," Squall said, his eyes surveying the field. "I figured you'd be here; Selphie says you've barely left all week."

Irvine scooted out from beneath the contraption carefully; his face was a little smudged with dust. Squall smiled a bit. The cowboy set his tools back into the box carefully and picked up his hat from where it lay on the ground beside the toolbox.

Irvine grinned up at Squall from where he sat on the ground. "What can I do for you, commander?"

Squall winced. "Not call me that, for starters," he said, and then to Irvine's surprise lowered himself to the ground as well. "I have the report on that mission," Squall said. "I thought I'd come down and check on you. Cid's still not sure that you can do this by yourself."

Irvine laughed. "Neither am I, man."

Squall's eyes surveyed Irvine's handiwork, taking in all of the painstaking detail. "I'm impressed," he admitted finally. "Looks like you know exactly what you're doing."

"Well, I sure know exactly what I want," Irvine replied amiably. "Whether or not it works is a different story."

Squall bent forward to peer underneath one of the other dummies. "This is incredible, Irvine," he said, and shook his head. "I never got any of this system-design crap."

Irvine, taken aback a little by Squall's openness, said genuinely; "It's one of the only things I ever understood, so don't be jealous."

Squall actually laughed.

"See, they're all connected - I hope." Irvine gestured widely. "The plan is to have them react accordingly to each shot - not only where it hits, but where it comes from, and such. You know, if the kid misses the head, they all duck and the mission's blown."

"Sounds complicated," Squall said in disbelief.

Irvine laughed. "Yeah. So like, I'm not sure if it'll work. But if it does, it'll be awesome."

Squall shifted to look at the wiring covering the back of another model. "How did you think of all this?"

"I had plenty of time to dream this all up in Galbadia," Irvine replied. "It got pretty boring on their shooting range; I spent my hours dreaming up wacky stuff to do."

Squall laughed again. "I never would have guessed," he said, and then corrected himself; "Well, I should have. You did help repair that stage for Selphie."

Irvine flushed. "I only helped," he protested. "The FH people did most of it. Honestly."

"What happened to the arrogant cowboy who was only out for attention?"

Irvine froze; and then he realized that, against all odds, Squall was making fun of him! "Oh, he went out to lunch," he said, chuckling. "He'll be back in a little bit if you want to wait."

Squall made a face. As if he had just remembered, he held out the top folder of his pile. "Here," he said, "this is a rewrite of the mission that you and Selphie are going on."

Irvine reached out and took the folder. "Going on?" he asked. "Last I heard we were just going along to supervise."

"Ah," Squall said. "This is your briefing, I guess."

"A real mission?"

Squall stretched his long legs in front of him, grimacing. "I guess."

Irvine looked up at him. "Why's it a real mission now? What are you going to do with the SeeDs waiting for a field exam?"

Squall sighed. "I don't know," he said bitterly, and then paused.

"I'm sick and tired of them expecting me to do all the dirty work without knowing what's really going on. For one, it's impossible. And it's also rude."

He turned to Irvine. "I'm thinking of giving the job up."

Irvine's jaw dropped. "For real?"

Squall turned away, staring at one of the dummies. "I told Cid last week that I just wasn't cut out to be a leader this way. He told me that I can't just quit out of nowhere, but he's willing to transfer me over to Security and Intelligence."

Irvine whistled. "That's hard-core," he said. "So like ...who would be Commander?"

"I'm sure I'd still keep the title," Squall said. "But I know that Cid is trying to retire, and I wanted him to know that I have no desire to be Headmaster. He'll have to find someone else."

"You want to do Intelligence?" Irvine was still baffled. "That's dangerous, and complicated, and hard. Headmaster's gotta be a cushy job..."

Squall shifted his legs again. "I'm sick of leading," he admitted. "I just want to be able to do something that doesn't put me in the spotlight. And..."

He paused, as if gathering his courage, and then said: "And with Rinoa trying to be a SeeD..."

"I see," Irvine said. "You don't want to be the one who gives her the orders."

"Not only that," Squall added. "If I'm head of Intelligence, I can recruit her. We can work together. She's really bright, you know - spends all her spare time reading, thinking up those insanely complicated plans. She'd be fantastic. We could really do something for Garden."

Irvine smiled. Here was a completely different Squall - he was struggling, yes, but he was being open. And honest. And almost romantic.

"Don't tell anyone," Squall said suddenly, brandishing a finger at Irvine. "I'm not really sure why I told you," he admitted. "Nobody else knows about this. But Quistis ...she saw that something was on my mind and suggested I talk it over with somebody. And then she suggested you. I guess."

"Quistis is too observant for her own good," Irvine said lightly, and Squall laughed.

"True. But eventually it'll get her somewhere. She's a good Instructor, but she'd be better elsewhere."

Squall stood up, brushed the dust from his pants, and gathered the rest of his folders. "That's your briefing," he reiterated, gesturing at the folder. "Make sure you read it over. Selphie's getting one as well. Not quite sure when the mission is."

"What happened to the old mission?"

Squall shrugged. "Whatever. Maybe it's in there. I have no idea."

He turned around and left. Irvine shrugged himself, carefully filed the folder underneath his toolbox, and scooted back underneath his project.

He worked all afternoon, lost in the intricacy and complexity of his constructions. It was something mindless that he could do, and so far the results were spectacular. He would have to gather together more parts, though, and that meant either heading to a store or heading out to find the monsters that he knew could be converted into what he needed. Neither was particularly appealing at the moment. A shower, however, was very attractive, so he headed home.

He had just settled himself at the dinner table, fresh coffee in hand and mission folder at the ready, when there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

Quistis opened it cautiously. "I smell coffee," she greeted him.

"Help yourself." He gestured to the pot in its little shrine, bubbling happily. "There are other cups over there."

She shut the door behind her and headed over, choosing a dark mug that read Chicks Dig Guns and filling it to the brim.

"Someone likes their coffee black?"

"Cream and sugar are for pansies." Quistis came over and sat at the table, removing the bag she had slung over her shoulder. "I brought my grading," she said in explanation. "But I figured we could hang out for a while. If you don't mind."

Irvine raised an eyebrow. "A lovely lady invites herself into my house? Who am I to say no?"

Quistis rolled her eyes. "I am not trying to seduce you, Irvine," she said, mock sternness in her voice.

He slumped his shoulders in an imitation of Zell. "Aww, man."

She snorted, sipping at the coffee. "You should know by now, dummy."

"So kind," Irvine said sarcastically. "No wonder I love your company so much."

She stuck out her tongue, pulling a large stack of papers out of her bag. Then she noticed the folder in front of Irvine - "A mission?"

He shrugged. "I guess so," he said cautiously. "It keeps changing."

"What keeps changing?" In a flash Quistis had entered what Irvine affectionately called Instructor-Mode - asking pointed questions, gathering information behind those sharp eyes. It was something Irvine respected, a way of thought that he would never be able to control.

He assumed it wouldn't hurt to tell her. "Well, initially I was training the snipers in order to get two or three that could carry out a specific mission - most of Selphie's class was up for a field exam, and someone had filed for a bust on an illegal weapons operation. So they called me in to train the necessary gunmen and Seff and I were going to be support. But then I read the mission and something was seriously wrong - like, whoever wrote it was either dumb or out to embarrass Garden. So I reported it." Quistis's eyes narrowed as she collected the thoughts; Irvine continued.

"I guess it got looked over and reviewed like I'd hoped. From what I know, Cid thinks it's subterfuge - somebody inside Garden got a hold of the exam and decided to edit it a little." He shrugged. "I haven't read this yet; apparently they're sending me and Seff out on an actual investigation."

Quistis bit her lip in thought as she processed the data. "Someone wanting to embarrass Garden ...get rid of some SeeDs ...and their famous Instructors, who would be proctoring ...sounds dangerous."

"I don't think Seff knows yet," Irvine said, genuine concern in his voice.

"A-ha!" Quistis grinned triumphantly. "I knew we'd end up talking about her!"

"She's going on the mission," Irvine said innocently.

"We're going to talk about her anyway," Quistis decided, and put her paper down.

"Bossy, aren't we?"

"Well, I just came over here to pump you for information," she said. "I want to stay ahead on my gossip."

"That's quite petty, Instructor." Irvine leaned back in his chair. "What if I were to pry about your private life?"

Quistis barked out a quick laugh. "I have no private life," she said, amused. "I'm 'Career Garden'. All I do in my spare time is ...more work."

Irvine's lips twisted. "Poor Quisty. You need a man to sweep you off your feet."

Her lips curled upward in an odd smile. "You should stop saying things like that. I'm here to see if you're worthy of my poor roommate."

Irvine feigned shock. "A test? But Instructor Trepe, I'm not even in your class."

She dropped her pencil on the table. "Look. Let's lose the facade and just talk, okay?"

He was a little taken aback. "Why so serious?"

Quistis rested her elbows on the table, chin balanced on her closed fists. "Maybe you haven't noticed," she said sternly, "but Selphie is in love with you."

Irvine blinked.

"And I swear," she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice, "if you are only playing with her - if you're just seducing her, you'll have to deal with me."

His face belied his shock. "Q... Quistis, I don't believe this." He shifted in the chair. "You really don't trust me?"

She met his eyes fiercely. "I don't know you as well as you know me, Irvine. I don't have the memories you do. All I have is the information I've been able to gather - and that information makes you out to be a dangerous character."

"Quistis," Irvine said in disbelief, "have you ever bothered to get information from me?"

She paused, and he continued stubbornly. "First of all - she isn't. Second of all - I'm not what you think I am."

Quistis's eyes flashed. "First of all - she is. And second of all - prove it."

Irvine collapsed back in his chair, sighing. "This is going to be one hell of a conversation, isn't it?"

An evil smile spread across Quistis's face. "It sure is," she said. "And I'm not letting you get off easy."

"I need a drink," Irvine muttered.

"Bring it," Quistis said.

He looked at her in shock. "Surely the Instructor doesn't drink?"

She scoffed. "I've been attending SeeD banquets since I was twelve. I don't drink often - but I know how to hold my liquor, cowboy."

"Is that a challenge?"

Irvine stood up and went to his cupboard, quickly fixing up a couple of rum-and-colas. Quistis took a prim sip of hers and deemed it worthy. Irvine, gathering up his courage, downed half of his in one gulp.

"Now you're going to tell me about Selphie," Quistis said.

Irvine rolled his eyes. "No wonder we called you bossy little Quisty."

He stared at the ice cubes tinkling around in his glass. He didn't want to have this conversation with Quistis - but part of him admitted it was time to open up. He was just scared. He trusted her, yes. But ...this was different. Personal. Secret.

She was watching him, waiting for an answer, and he muttered: "What is there to tell?"

"Look, Irvine, I'm going to push, because there's something I have to know," she said. "I'm sorry in advance, cause I'm sure you'll hate me in the morning."

She idly tapped at the side of her glass with a long fingernail. "But I need to know what's going on - for my own peace of mind more than anything. Selphie ...well, Fee's been so happy lately. I couldn't bear it if you were just playing a trick on her."

She took another drink and then looked into Irvine's sullen face. "So just talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind. Tell me something I don't know."

He raised his glass to his lips. Quistis sighed. "I just want you to understand - I know I'm meddling where I shouldn't. But Selphie was the first person to really accept me as I am. She's the first real friend I had. I feel like her big sister; I'm just watching out for her." She took another sip. "I know you are too. But ...you understand."

Irvine downed the rest of his drink and said bravely, "I've been in love with Selphie Tilmitt since I was three years old."

Quistis blinked.

He stood up to pour himself another. "She was my best friend. We were inseparable. She had the best ideas and I was the only one who could make them happen. We were family to each other. When she left, it shattered my little-kid world."

He swallowed, scowling at the bitter taste. "All through my stay with my foster family and my training at Galbadia I couldn't stop thinking about her. She grew as I grew, a little dream inside my head. When I was younger, I imagined I could still talk to her. My parents got frustrated with me and my daydreaming; I had been so much happier at the orphanage, and they knew it."

He took another bitter swallow, unable to stop, the truth finally pouring out. "So I went to Galbadia for my training. I had finally admitted to myself that the past was past - it was over, lost permanently. But in the back of my head was Selphie - always. I missed her - all of you, but I missed her like nothing else. So I started trying to fill the holes."

He gave a bitter laugh at his now-empty glass. "Guns, women, and booze. The easiest escape routes. But those memories didn't go away. Everything I did in that new life was done under her influence. Every woman was subliminally compared to her - and came up short. I shot and reloaded, unable to find exactly what I was looking for."

Irvine sighed. "And then I found her - and she didn't remember anything. She didn't know me. No one knew me. I was thrown from one unsure world into another. I had finally convinced myself it was all a dream, see; and then you all came back. But you didn't fit in the holes anymore - you were new and old at the same time. It was like a nightmare."

He looked up at Quistis, his eyes both defiant and defeated. "Is that what you wanted to hear, Quisty? There's the happy story of my life. There's the truth. Does it help your theory?"

Her voice was soft. "Why don't you tell her?"

Irvine groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I can't, Q. There have been plenty of women in this cowboy's life - too many, probably. But this..." He sighed. "This is Selphie."

He looked up at her. "She's the last shot, Quistis. The biggest target of my life." He sighed and whispered, "What if I miss?"

"So you're not even going to try?" Quistis asked angrily. Her glass was empty as well, and her cheeks were slightly flushed. "You're not even going to tell the girl how you feel?"

"How can I?" he asked, just as angry.

"You make her happy!"

"Selphie loves everyone, Quistis," Irvine said, his voice upset. "She has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever seen. She's selfless. I'm not. What would she -"

"That's bullshit!" Quistis's eyes were sparkling. "You've taken care of her ever since you came with us. You went with her to the Missile Base. You helped her put on the concert of her dreams. You stayed at her side all through Esthar. Even when we were traveling in Balamb, you stayed right beside her, trying to disguise your purpose by checking out all the other girls - but I noticed. You're her best friend, Irvine. And it's made her so happy just to be with you."

Irvine shook his head, the hair from his ponytail falling into his face. "So we're friends," he said resentfully. "What else can I ask?"

"Dammit," Quistis said, the flush rising in her face, "it's right in front of you and you can't even see it. Fee is in love with you. You're an idiot!"

The alcohol was rushing to his head now; he had inhaled his drinks, feeling the need for liquid courage, and was now feeling the effects. The heat was burning in Quistis's face as well as she finished her second drink. "I should kiss you right now to shut you up," he said.

She looked at him, surprised, and burst out laughing. "You just confessed your undying love for my best friend and you want to kiss me?"

Now that he had said it, it was very tempting. "You don't seem to care."

She shook her head. "As nice as it would be, I think I'll say no."

He gave her a wry smile. "That's usually how I got the girls to stop asking questions," he admitted finally.

Quistis stood up, gathering her papers into her bag. "Look, Irvine," she said, choosing her words carefully. "You can't keep this up forever. I know you don't want to keep it up forever. You need to find a way to tell her."

"I told you, I can't." He was whispering now, upset. Too much to think about.

"Well, you can't play with her heart," she said fervently. "Just ...just tell her."

"How?" He looked up at her, his face so forlorn that Quistis had to smile. "She doesn't remember it. What am I supposed to say?"

Quistis shook her head sadly, her golden hair shimmering. "I'm sorry, Irvine. I don't know."

Without thinking she bent over and kissed his forehead. "Good night."

Irvine watched as she quietly let herself out of his room. Half of him was inclined to go find Selphie - she had night duties - and just tell her while he still had the nerve (though most of the nerve was rum). The other half of him was inclined to go find Quistis and make her promise at gunpoint to forget everything he had just said. They battled it out for a while in his head before he made the executive decision to just go to bed.

He would think about it tomorrow morning.

He gathered the dishes and his eyes landed on the folder, still unopened, still resting on the table.

Shit - the mission.

He decided to think about that tomorrow morning as well.

He poured himself a nightcap. He hadn't had anything to drink in a very long time; he had enjoyed the occasional beverage at school, but more for his image than anything. He didn't like the feeling the alcohol brought on - the strange swirly feeling where repressed memories suddenly had a relapse.

But he wanted to sleep well tonight.