AN: I've just realised this story has no plot - or at least, not one I know about...

Quistis: That's impossible.  It's got a beginning, a middle, and... and, um,

Zell:  Hey!  There's no end!

Seifer: *smirks* That's cause it's still being written - chickenwuss

Zell: DON'T CALL ME THAT!

Seifer + Squall: *sniggers*

A: *packs muses into suitcase - destination Timbuktu* So, no plot and no end.  Guess I'd better continue with the middle til inspiration - or an irate muse fresh from Timbuktu - strikes

Rating: R (I tried to keep it lower, but it just wasn't destined to happen - unlike other things [which are responsible for the rating])

Disclaimer: SG characters are (c) MGM (thankie to Morrigan for that :p).  FF8 characters are (c) Squaresoft, original characters are mine – ask nicely and I might let you play with them, s'long's you don't break them...

Warnings: SxS - Yaoi (guyxguy) later - if u don't like, don't read.  Character death.  Maybe angst (I do like to torture my characters sometimes :p), language (prob nothin u ain't heard b4, but still...)

~Chapter Twenty-Seven: Coming Together~

Irvine shook his head and turned away.  The president of Esthar had a remarkable capacity for missing the obvious.  Like the fact that the incident had resulted in the standoff  Laguna had skirted round the edge of.  He silently cursed the language barrier preventing them from explaining that they were SeeDs, they lived by the sword and usually died by the sword, as it were.  But somehow - although he didn't think the visitors would be entirely comfortable with the knowledge that to die defending someone was the end most SeeDs dreamed of – Irvine had the strangest sensation that the Gesper was just coincidental to the events taking place. 

He was jolted from his thoughts as a messenger ran up with a sealed document and handed it silently to him.  Irvine took it and waved the messenger away, absently tearing the document open as he surveyed the scene.

The 'visitors' were huddled in a group – the linguist not looking too happy, which might've had something to do with the fact that he was unarmed – and the leader showed no signs of backing down anytime soon.  The body language of the other two made it clear that, however much they disagreed with the situation, they would back their leader up whatever.  Irvine's patience – rarely tested this far – was rapidly vanishing under the continual assault of stupidity, as Laguna had discovered.

He looked down at the message, reading it once, then again to check he had read it correctly.  A frown creased his brow.

"Selphie."  She appeared, as if by magic, from behind him.  "I need you to take this to Edea."  He handed her the document, which she took and, predictably, read.  Or tried to read.  Whether the communications SeeD who had taken the message had asked Martine to spell the unintelligible words, or whether they had just scribbled down the phonetic breakdown, it was impossible to say.  He just hoped Edea would be able to understand the gist of it.

"What's it mean Irvy?"  Irvine rolled his eyes, although, for once, not at Selphie's question.  If Laguna was master of missing the obvious, Selphie was queen of asking questions about it.  He frowned as he realised that she had called him Irvy again.  Rolling his eyes, he decided that he really had to do something about breaking her of that habit.  Calling him Irvy when they were alone in their shared quarters was fine, but as headmaster he had a public image to maintain.

"I don't know.  I just want you to take it, give it to Edea, and see what happens.  At a guess I'd say she's being told it's OK to come here."  Selphie shrugged and darted off.  Irvine sighed in relief.  For a while, at least, he didn't have to continually worry about what the hyperactive brunette was up to behind his back.

***

"That 'kid' saved your life Jack."  Daniel pointed out for about the tenth time.

"I don't want to hear it Daniel, unless you can say it in their language."  He felt Sam shrug behind him.

"But sir, if they are mercenaries…"

"Magic.  Equals.  G'ould."  Jack snarled across the start of her theory.

"Not always…"  Daniel pointed out.  He stopped, suddenly noticing just how out of character O'Neill was acting.  "Are you alright Jack?"  He queried, frowning, then pushing his glasses back up his nose as they slipped.  He noticed Sam shoot him a quick glance out of the corner of her eyes.  It was relief that he saw, relief and confirmation.  Jack O'Neill was not acting himself, and, given the things SG1 had encountered in their time, there could be any number of reasons for that.  Unfortunately, there was no way to ascertain exactly which one of those reasons it was, but, Daniel didn't think that it was just a mood swing.

***

Just as Daniel and Sam were beginning to think that they would have to do something drastic, like abandoning their colonel – albeit temporarily until he regained his senses – an unearthly silence seemed to spread through the room.  It rolled over them with the force of a physical wave, each individual feeling the unmistakable pressure as it passed, and hearing the absolute absence of noise as it left them behind.

It was almost like a silence spell, except, the slight shuffling of shoes and rustling of clothes as SeeDs shifted uneasily was not audible.  Then there was the aura of expectation that had flashed into being.  No one in the room had been fortunate to have such an upbringing that they didn't expect the worst under these conditions.  Fortunately for the SG1 team, they didn't know exactly what they might be up against.

They were about to find out.

The sound of footsteps, loud and echoing in the unnatural silence, were clearly heard by all.  The seeming echo of a second set was added, bringing a sense of disorientation to the already detached atmosphere.

***

Jack, Daniel and Sam were no longer the focus of attention, but it hardly mattered.  They too were transfixed by events.

Time, which no one had noticed as it too slowed in fascination, suddenly snapped back to normality as two figures appeared in the wide entrance to the room.

"Squall...?"  Quistis murmured, just as Irvine muttered "Seifer..." in a tone that also added, 'why am I not surprised?'.  SG1, blissfully unaware of the recent history of the planet, failed to read the deeper undertones, but recognised all too well that one person who had just appeared was welcome, whilst the other was not.

***

The tension level in the room flashed to boiling point as a third figure appeared behind them.

"A sorceress..."  Quite who had growled the identification wasn't clear, but every SeeD reacted.  Bodies spun to face the new threat, the SeeDs behind SG1 rapidly fanning out to gain a clear line of fire on the woman.  Projectile weapons were raised to ready stances, melee weapons to defensive positions, their owners running through a list of spell reactions, making last second tweaks to junctions, and all, without exception, holding the start of their most powerful summoning in the forefront of their minds.

***

Squall and Seifer didn't move as the SeeDs, as one, automatically turned their weapons towards the sorceress.  Both were armed, although they had not drawn their weapons, but they had already planned their actions.  Besides, Yarege was more than capable of protecting all three of them, as they both knew.

"Stand down."  Squall ordered.  His voice still quiet, still calm, still as it had always been.  It was the voice all of the SeeDs in the room had trusted and followed through the third sorceress war against Ultemecia, and the one they would still follow to the jaws of hell and back.  Or not.  It was the voice of the young SeeD commander that any SeeD who had survived the war against Ultemecia would willingly die for.  Every weapon in the room was lowered, except three.

"Stand fast!"  Irvine shouted.  "You are no longer commander Squall!"  Squall's expression didn't change.

"I don't recall ever being dismissed.  I am still SeeD commander, and in the field I outrank you, Headmaster."  Irvine frowned.

"Where have you been Squall?  It's been three years!"  Quistis finally exclaimed.

"Nice to see you too, Instructor, Chickenwuss..."  Seifer drawled, bored by the lack of attention he was receiving.  He received a mental clout over the head from Squall.

Stick to the plan.  Seifer frowned sullenly.  And stop pouting.  Seifer repressed the urge to whip out Hyperion and smack his lover over the head with it.  He did *not* pout.

"All right."  Irvine finally accepted that whether Squall actually still held the rank or not, none of the SeeDs present were going to fight him.  "But what's *she* doing here?"

I'll answer for myself thank you.  Squall closed his mouth firmly on the explanation.

"Martine said you were in need of an interpreter."  With that, Yarege made a complex gesture, hidden behind Squall and Seifer, and blue lines of power began to leap from her to everyone in the room.

***

Weapons were immediately brought back to bear on the sorceress, although for those where Squall appeared in their line of fire, there was a great deal of hesitation. 

Now you get to hog the limelight...  Squall mentally muttered to his lover.  Seifer thought about various responses to the comment, but settled for stepping forwards with a condescending frown on his face.

"Stop being such a fucking idiot, Cowboy."  He resisted the impulse to call the Trabian Headmaster by his name.  That might cause an interesting point of confusion, but his task at this point was to occupy the three SeeDs who had learnt that your foe sometimes used to be a friend.

"Oh yeah?  And we're supposed to trust the sorceress' knight?"  Irvine growled back, taking a threatening step forwards.  Seifer, as ever, refused to retreat, and advanced again, hand falling to the hilt of Hyperion in an implicit threat.

"You chose the wrong side last time Seifer.  How are we to know that you haven't made the same mistake?"  Quistis stepped between the two men, trying to prevent the fight that looked inevitable.  The blond in question glowered briefly at her, then switched his glare to Zell.

"What's the matter, chickenwuss?  Unlike you not to add your two Gils worth."  Zell glared back, the air seeming to shimmer with the fierceness of their gazes.  Finally he snorted.

"You haven't changed Seifer.  Stop being such an ass, or do you want to get kicked from here to Trabia?"  Seifer threw his head back and laughed.

"You couldn't beat me in a fair fight if you tried!"

"Oh, so you do know what a fair fight is then?"  Irvine interrupted sarcastically.

"At least I have the guts to get up close for a kill, *sniper*..."  Irvine took two quick steps towards the blond, only stopping because Quistis was in his way.  The blonde rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, praying to Hyne for patience, and an anti-testosterone drug.

"Cut it out!  Both of you!  Is this really the impression you want to give our visitors?"

OK Seifer, we're all clear.  Seifer smiled sweetly, both at Squall's statement, and in anticipation of the events to follow his next statement.

"What visitors?"

"For the love of Hyne, Seifer!"  Zell roared.  "Those..."  He cut off, mid shout, as he whirled and discovered that there were only the four of them in the excavation site.

***

AN: arrgh!  apologies for the whole chpt.  It isn't (imo) one of the best I've written, but what with packing my recalcitrant muses off to Timbuktu, I kinda ran out of plot, and now I have to figure out what I was planning – again :(

I think it got better towards the end *grins* Anyway, two questions (to those who pay more attention to the detail of stargate than me ^~^) what, if it was ever revealed, was the name of Jack O'Neill's son? (the one who shot himself), and also, Sam Carter befriends another energy being (ala Oma Desala), but I can't remember his name *rolls eyes at self* if ne one can answer either (or both) of those questions, then pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease review and tell me :)  cookies to all who answer *pleads*