"You may be obliged to wage war, but not to use poisoned arrows." ~ Baltasar Gracian

Rosin the Bow

A movement is accomplished in six stages
And the seventh brings return.
The seven is the number of the young light
It forms when darkness is increased by one.
Change returns success
Going and coming without error.
Action brings good fortune.
Sunset, sunrise.
(Pink Floyd)

"Any questions? Anyone? No? Brilliant." Without pausing, Xu wrapped up her lecture on changes to the SeeD Regulation Manual. She glanced at the timepiece on the wall of the theatre. Under fifty minutes. Her best time yet. Every member not on active duty elsewhere had been required to attend the meeting by penalty of a lowered rank. Every attendee was subsequently bored out of his or her skull. Xu at the top of the list. "You are all dismissed."

There were several groans as people dragged their newly awakened bodies from plastic chairs. Quite a few sighs, a few jubilant cheers, and a smattering of applause. Xu grinned at the SeeDs who blew her kisses from the back of the room.

She chuckled and stepped down from the lectern, sliding her copy of the manual into a slim portfolio. Their gratitude could not have been accepted by a more sympathetic individual. It was not so long ago she had been a member of the audience, listening with half an ear as Cid droned about curfew hours. Wishing she was somewhere else, anywhere else, but Balamb Garden's large lecture hall.

When the room had pretty much cleared out, she hopped from the small dais and strode up the stairs to the double doors. Things had not changed much, however. She may be the one giving the lectures now, but that didn't make her enjoy it. It was a grand thing she had a healthy imagination.

Once in the main corridor, she shoved the folder under one arm while she attempted to tie back her hair with the other. The russet-coloured locks had been driving her insane lately. Brushing against her collar they were too short to ensnare in a ponytail but too long to remain out of her way. The next time she was in Deling, she was heading to the first salon she saw and hacking it off. She would cut it herself if she thought she could do a decent job of it. Waste of good money, she thought. Money that could be spent on other more essential items. Like shoes.

"Xu! Wait up!"

At the sound of the voice she paused but did not turn. Several cadets were forced to move around her as she stood in the middle of the hall.

"Thanks." Breathless from her scurry down the hall, Rinoa stopped next to the older woman. She gave her a soft half-smile. "I wasn't sure you'd hear me. It's crazy when classes get out around here, isn't it?"

Xu raised her eyebrows and glanced over with a curt nod. "That it is."

"I, uh, I liked your speech." Suddenly losing her nerve, Rinoa shifted her weight. "It was interesting." At that she briefly closed her eyes and willed herself into the floor. It took all her courage to reopen them and meet the female's piercing gaze. Of all the dorky things to come out with.

"Oh yeah?" Xu drawled with an amused grin. Shaking her head, she recommenced her stride, altering the length slightly so the other girl could keep up. "Which part was your favourite?"

"Oh." Stumped, Rinoa had little choice but to hasten after her. "All of it, I guess."

"Right." She would have said more but, contrary to popular belief, Xu was not a complete bitch. She could quell her more sarcastic urges when need be. Quite frankly, the Caraway girl was not worth it.

Taking a sharp left, she stopped in front of he first in a line of vending machines. All of a sudden she had a craving for chocolate-covered raisins. She sensed rather than saw Rinoa hesitate beside her. "Regulation lectures aren't required for visitors, you know." Her eyes scanned the bright packages through the glass until she spotted her selection and dug into the pocket of her skirt for change.

"Oh, I know. But it's good to keep aware of all that's going on, even if I'm not a SeeD. Like the curfew changes and stuff. And it's all important, right? For global awareness?" Rinoa ordered herself to cease her babbling. She tended to go off on extensive tangents when she was nervous and Xu was probably the most intimidating female she had ever met. The last thing she wanted to do was give her the impression she was a total case. Because her hands had begun to sweat, she curled her fingers along her sides.

With a clunk of the mechanical device, the candy tumbled to the small repository at the bottom and Xu stooped to retrieve her prize. Leaning back against the window one ankle crossed over the other, she ripped open the box and poured several pieces into her palm. For a few moments she tilted her head and scrutinized her choices before selecting one and placing it in her mouth. She smiled and cocked her head.

"That bored, huh?"

Rinoa immediately blushed. She shrugged her shoulders a little sheepishly and drew circles with the toe of her shoe on the floor in front of her. "Maybe a little."

Xu couldn't help but grin and relax. The girl was irrevocably artless; it was impossible to despise her on sentiment. She decided to give her a break, although it went against her core principles.

"So, what can I help you with?" Carefully choosing another piece of candy, Xu popped it in her mouth before looking over.

"Huh?"

"I'm assuming you didn't chase me down the hall to compliment my lecture style and watch me scarf chocolate." Xu brushed off her hands after sliding the box into her pocket and retrieved her folder from where she'd placed it on top of the machine. "What did you need?"

Rinoa bit her lip and fiddled with the strap on her shoulder-bag. "It's just that I, erm, I was wondering if we could talk…about something."

"Shoot. Type A can wait." For some reason, Xu was immensely enjoying herself. And, she had to admit, a bit curious as to what the young civilian would be asking. She could count on one finger the number of times they'd conversed in the past.

"Type A?" Lost, Rinoa's brows crinkled.

"The Great Leonhart himself. Sorry, I know he's your boyfriend and all but the guy's as anal as all get-out. And that's coming from me." Xu's grin returned. "I'm sure you've noticed."

"That's kinda what I wanna talk about." Taking a deep breath, Rinoa faced her directly. "You see him more than me. Do you think he's been more, um, more…"

"Prickish?" Filled in Xu with an arched brow.

She was quick to come to Squall's defence. "No! No, not that. Just more standoffish, maybe. More distant." At Xu's caustic look, She tucked back a strand of hair and sighed. "So you have noticed then."

"Nope, can't say I have." Xu very nearly chuckled at Rinoa's crestfallen expression as her mouth opened and shut. Tongue in cheek, she voiced her next words with as much mildness as she could muster. "Look, I'm no expert on the psychoses of Squall Leonhart and I pity the sucker who eventually takes on that position. But I do know this, he is the job. And when things go bad, so does he. The guy has no inter-personal skills. Once again, this is coming from me."

Despite the automatic excuses that were forming on her tongue, Rinoa did her best to digest the other woman's description. But it still did not sit well. She knew it was only half the story. It had to be. Had she not seen those glimpses of something more every now and then? She could not dismiss him as simply a lone wolf and move on. Not when she had made so much head way. Only now it was as if he were quickly back-tracking to what he was, what they were, before. And she did not know if she had the strength to breach his seemingly insurmountable walls again. She had a feeling it would take more than a haphazard siege.

"That's the way you see him." Rinoa zealously shook her head, eyes indignant. If she did not stand up for him, who would? "But there's so much more. He could be so much more."

"If you say so." Lazy, and already bored with the conversation, Xu did not appear surprised at the pleading outburst. She pulled herself from the glass, tapping her folder against her open palm. "But if you ask me, I think you're wasting your time. I wouldn't have put up with a second of the shit I've seen him deal you."

"You don't understand." Rinoa's voice was quiet but she held her head steady. "Squall may come off like a jerk sometimes but deep inside I know he's just hurting. I want to help him because…because I love him."

Have to give her full marks for performance, Xu reckoned inwardly. Her dark eyes casually appraised the girl. With the slight blush colouring her cheeks and her eyes wide and expressive, she looked like the typical young heroine of countless fairy-tales. Innocent, eternally optimistic, and, in Xu's opinion, just as insipid. It had been a long time since she'd last gazed at faraway rainbows. If ever.

"You're a better woman than I." Deciding she had no right corrupting the inexperienced teenager, she merely inclined her head in a diplomatic gesture and began to walk away. "Good luck."

With a soft sigh, Rinoa watched her make her way down the hall toward the elevators. Her fingers curled into fists and she gathered up what was left of her resolve. All that was left to do now was talk to the man himself. She would prove the older woman wrong. Squall did care, he just wasn't good at showing it. But she would help him to learn. And if it didn't work? Her heart dipped a little and she shook her head. That wasn't an option. It would be foolish to doom herself before she began. She'd never failed at getting through to him before, one way or another. There was no reason to suspect she would this time.

Right?

Something was sitting on his head. Whatever it was he was sure it was the cause of the rampant pain rattling over his forehead and boogying into the bones of his cranium. He shifted and the weight not only increased on his skull but moved to other parts of his body he had not known existed before. As it was, he wished he had remained ignorant.

Slowly, other senses began to return, though they did nothing to dull the pain prowling up his back and limbs. His tongue felt about five sizes too big for his mouth and he detected the distinct taste of bile and something even more disgusting. Though it nearly killed him, he reached out a hand to test his surroundings. In spite of the prickles of a million little pins, he realized he was laid out upon some kind of mattress. The sheets beneath him were thin and sticky. Probably due to the perspiration now pouring from every one of his pours. Brave and thinking it was best to get it over with quickly, he opened his eyes full blast.

Unable to speak for reasons unknown, his litany of curses came out as a strangled snarl. Immediately shutting his lids against the putrid light that had seemed like a brilliant torch to his unaccustomed retinas, he wheezed out a breath. Talk about a fucking deadly hangover. He couldn't remember whatever the hell he'd downed to make him feel like someone had been beating him with a stick all night. But once he did he was going to kill whoever had been responsible. As soon as he could figure out how to stand up.

For the first time in his life, he wished for death.

"You're awake."

The flat, inexpressive words were like salt on a fresh wound. If he had the strength he would have balled himself up into a fetal position. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

"Drink this." In the course of the sharp pain, he became aware of the lip of a small bottle at his lips. Obediently, they opened and he was rewarded with the cool, slightly burning liquid that slid down his throat and dribbled over his chin. When the bottle was pulled away the he realized his tongue had shrunk back to its normal width. That was something at least.

"I don't really know why I'm bothering to cure you." The voice continued. Feeling a little more cognizant, he fought to tune his ears into the tone. It was familiar but the everlasting jig of his nervous system prevented him from acknowledging the source. Cripes, he couldn't even tell if it was male or female. "You were so much more docile knocked out. Guess it's just my natural pity for wounded animals. Well, we all have our faults."

The bottle was replaced at his mouth and he eagerly drank, not caring how pathetic it seemed. Anything to clear his cotton-infused brain. However, this time his ability to taste had returned in full force and the flavour of the potion made him gag.

It seemed his ability to speak had also arrived. This time there was nothing to stop the streak of words properly clarifying his misery.

"Sounds like you're feeling better." The voice came in and out but he could now be certain it was feminine.

"The hell is that?" His vocal chords rasped together in his raw throat. "You tryin' to kill me?"

There was silence for a few moments trailed by a soft chuckle. "If I wanted you dead I would have left you on the side of the road. Your colouring's returned, anyway. Have some more."

He wanted none of it and pushed the bottle away. Stubborn, he'd rather put up with the ravaging pain than another shot of the woman's answer to a panacea. The medicine he had imbibed was helping to decrease the intensity and the jig had slowed to a delicate ballet. He felt bold enough to try once more to open his eyes.

"Men are such babies," she intoned. "Some nutty sense of machismo you've got going on there, Almasy. And you're worried that I'm what's going to kill you."

The way she'd said his name, with a wry mix of dismay and amusement, had his brain snapping into focus. His swollen eyes struggled to follow. All they caught was a blur of colour.

"Trepe."

"Don't sound so thrilled. I'd think you'd be more grateful. If it weren't for me you'd still be lying half-dead under the stairs." The hard mattress squeaked and shifted beneath him and he assumed she had stood up. "Want me to help you sit up?"

"No." The sympathy in her tone had him baring his teeth. He couldn't why say why her offer so repulsed him.

The medicine had taken its effect and his vital organs had ceased their screams for attention. Using his shoulders and forearms, he pulled himself slowly back and up along the headboard, hissing through the pain. The un-worked muscles took up the abandoned banshee chorus. He caught the light snicker from the other occupant of the room and knew she was mocking his intrinsic male pride. Too busy to reply, he stored the anger in the back of his mind for another time.

Quistis bit her tongue and turned to replace the lid of the near-empty bottle. The price of potion in these parts of the globe was dear. The particular variety of tonic was rare and ingested only by the less than savoury or the less than law-abiding. She was lucky she had been able to secure some at all without too much hassle. The plucky kid in the alley behind the small motel had been a godsend. Otherwise she would have had to wait until they reached Dollet.

Dropping onto the other single bed across from Seifer's, she slipped the precious brew into her light bag in case of future emergencies before turning back to face him. The frightening white-sheet pallor had started to fade back into his normal complexion and though his eyes were bloodshot and his pupils just the wrong side of dilation, they were clear. And it was equally obvious his mind and diaphragm were in perfect working order. The jury was still out over whether those were positive details.

"Where are we?"

Quistis smiled. "I think that's the first intelligent question you've asked me. We're in a little town called Messenia, about forty miles north of Timber."

Seifer frowned. The name chinked no memory in his recollection. He ran two shaking hands through his unwashed hair and grimaced. His skin itched for a cold shower.

"Mind telling me how we got here?"

"Simple, I drove. You mind telling me how I was able to find you drugged up in the basement of a warehouse?" Her voice was still amused but he detected something harder underneath and knew he wouldn't be getting away with a flippant answer for long. Quistis' tenacity was nothing if not dependable. He would have admired her for it if he was in a better mood.

"Actually, I do. You got any soap in that bag of yours?" Her eyebrows lifted and little lines of annoyance formed around her mouth. Suddenly, the vice around his head eased. He almost directly felt a thousand times better. "I could really use a shower."

While she knew he was taking frank pleasure in irritating her she also believed he was speaking with the utmost honesty. The last time he'd bathed had most likely been in the prison - a lifetime ago. "Are you sure you can stand?"

"With the right incentive, I can do anything."

"All right." Indifferent, she reached back into the carryall and pulled out the small bottle of shampoo Mrs. Banagher had been thoughtful enough to give her. Tossing it at him, she dragged herself up and more firmly onto the bed, the wall at her back and legs stretched out comfortably before her. Giving a slight yawn, she sank into the pillows and crossed her ankles. "There's soap in the bathroom along with a few clean towels. Not much I can do in the way of a razor for now. Afterwards, we can poke around the local shops if you like, get you a change of clothes." Her eyes drifted shut.

Seifer sat on his own bed, shampoo in one hand, staring at her. He'd been expecting her to offer to help him get up. Apparently that wasn't the case. Damned if he was going to let her know she'd surprised him, he swore. Muttering under his breath, he shoved back the light coverlet and swung his body forward to that his feet dangled over the floor. He told himself he was only disappointed because she'd denied him the chance of mocking her offer.

"Shit." He persevered against the fresh waves of pain at the new sensation of standing. His feet were currently not his biggest fans.

Quistis barely flickered a lash. "Don't take too long. I want to make Dollet by late afternoon."

Ignoring her, he made his way carefully to the bathroom door, gradually letting the tenderness dissipate with deep breaths. His hand gripped the door knob like a life preserver.

"There's more potion in my bag, if you need it." Her words were bland.

"Thanks." The half-bitten syllable was the best he could come up with in retort.

"Oh, don't mention it. It's as much for me as it is for you. No offence, but you stink."

Seifer scowled and found enough power to slam the door behind him. He was sure she found herself terribly amusing. Could almost see the maddening little self-righteous smirk on her stuck-up features.

"Fucking hilarious," he mumbled as he began to strip. The clothing practically slithered to the tile, covered in sweat. He was surprised the jeans and sweatshirt didn't retain their shape. He guessed she'd had a point after all.

As he stepped under the cold needle spray of the cheap, but utilitarian shower head, Seifer almost buckled to his knees in relief. All was suddenly right with the world.

Disembarking from the train with a nimble hop, Selphie slid her sunglasses from the top of her head onto the bridge of her nose. She'd picked them up at the Balamb station and, with their pale blue frames, thought they lent her a most sophisticated aura. Very spy-movie-ish.

She strolled out onto the platform and gazed around with a discerning eye. It was early morning and most of the people rushing about were the commuters from suburban Galbadia, briskly heading to taxis and public transit at the start of yet another work day in the city. Behind her, people pushed and bustled, some murmuring their discontent at her abrupt stop in the middle of pedestrian traffic. But she paid little attention. She was a SeeD. It was her job to scrutinize every aspect of her new assignment.

Irvine eventually joined her, moving unexpectedly lithe under the weight of both their luggage. He had no idea what the pixie of a girl could have packed to make hers so much heavier than his own. But he was astute enough not to ask. He tipped his hat politely to passers by, casting a few smiles about for good measure. It had been a good two months since he'd entered Deling's city limits. Not since his field exam. While he appreciated the pastoral beauty of Balamb, in a way it was good to be back.

At Selphie's other side, Zell was also eager for the start of a new mission. One that would hopefully involve some kind of action. His muscles weren't stretched enough for his liking with the near effort-less battles to be found in Garden's training centre. Nor was his mind. With a bit of luck, this would turn out to be a great exercise for them all.

"So," Selphie piped up. She swivelled around to face the other two, hands on hips, virtually knocking over a harried traveller who hadn't been paying full attention. The business worker shot her a dirty glance before continuing toward the escalators. "What's the game plan, boys?"

"I don't know. Should we head first to Caraway's or the Esthar client?" Zell scratched the back of his head.

Given the nature of the assignment and the ranks and personalities of the selected SeeDs, Squall had opted not to assign a specific squad leader. Doing so would have only caused tension among the team. He figured they each had enough of their own unique skills to get them through without designating a captain who would only be summarily ignored. Irvine had inwardly conferred with this decision, knowing that to put either Zell or Selphie in charge of the other would most likely have been an inauspicious move. However, when it came to strategic decisions, there was no one to take charge.

"I say we should head to the Esthar bloke," said Irvine, with a casual shrug. "General Caraway already trusts us for the most part. Besides, the temporary Esthar garrison is closest to here."

"Sounds good!" Selphie gave him a heartening salute. "I've been dying to meet him anyway. Ellone says he's the most terrifying man she's ever met. Even Sir Laguna's petrified of him." She rubbed her hands together. "I can't wait to dig up some real dirt." Her eyes shone with the possibilities.

Zell exchanged glances with Irvine and rolled his eyes. He'd never understand the female gender for as long as he lived and five minutes with this one was enough to deter him from ever trying. Her brain was as sadistic as it got. No matter what this Murphy's schemes were, he didn't think even he deserved the warped machinations she was capable of coming up with. It gave him the willies just thinking about it.

Arriving at the top of the escalators, Irvine spotted a tourist vendor that sold maps to the city. Though he already pretty well knew his way around, he reasoned it would be a good idea to pick one up anyway. After the war, the city had changed proportions dramatically. The first free and fair democratic elections in nearly twenty years were set for a date in the next month. The general atmosphere was bound to be fairly chaotic.

He departed his intentions to the others and motioned for them to wait for him, leaving the cases behind. Already reaching for his wallet, he strolled over to the vendor, glancing at the daily commotion with a sort of affection. Deling City was one of those places you hated while you were there, but longed for with a marked pang when you were gone. He loved every inch of the city, the grime, the politics, the sidewalk swindlers, and the artificial glitz of the nightclubs. It was grand in its entirety and disgusting in its parts. What more could one want?

"Man, I hate this city," complained Zell who had followed him over. "It smells and the people are rude. I hope we don't get stuck on some kinda frickin' diplomacy job. The whole place makes me wanna kick some ass."

Amused, Irvine, flipped through the display, aware of the observant eyes of the merchant upon them. "Buck up, Zell. It ain't so bad. You just gotta get used to it is all. Kick back and enjoy the sights that are."

"Yeah right." Zell's look was dubious. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "Name one good thing."

"How's about the currency?" Irvine finally selected the most comprehensive map he could find, and picked up a bus schedule while he was at it. One never knew what may come in handy. Shooting a friendly smile to the vendor, he glanced over at Zell from the corner of his eye. "The exchange rate is nice and low compared to Balamb's standards." The seller snorted at that but took his money with a responding smile.

"I guess." Still doubtful, Zell remained in the funk that had fallen upon him since he'd caught wind of the ever-present pollution that hazed over the entire area. "It's still disgusting, though."

"Ah, but that's the beauty of it, my friend. You just haven't received a proper introduction." The map protected by the deep pocket of his coat, Irvine clapped an affable arm around the other male's back. "If we have time later, I bet I can change your mind."

With a responding grin, Zell was prepared to take on the challenge when his words were cut off by an all-too notorious shriek. His feet were running forward before his synapses could demand the movement.

Seeing as there were but three shops in the entire centre of Messenia, it did not take long for Quistis and Seifer to wrap up their little spree. She'd scored herself a change of underwear and a fresh shirt to replace the one borrowed from Mrs. Banagher's daughter. Along with a pair of trainers that fit. She winced at the poor quality of make and design but they would do until she could have Garden wire her some more money in Dollet. Her triple triad winnings would only take them so far.

Impatient to get moving, she tapped a sneakered foot against the rug on the floor of the motel room while she waited for Seifer to emerge from the bathroom once more. The only window was about half a foot all the way round so she wasn't worried over the possibility of his escape. The bulk of his frame may have trimmed down a bit during his prison stay but not so much that he could fit through the tiny space. She was safe enough on that count anyway. Unfolding her arms, she glanced at her replaced watch. Another present from her Timberian benefactor.

"Hurry it up, Almasy! For crying out loud, this isn't your first SeeD gala, stop primping in front of the mirror, already."

"Yes, duchess. Your wish is my command." Mood extremely heightened the more sour hers turned, Seifer swung open the squeaky door and stepped out. In truth, he'd been ready the past five minutes. But the opportunity to rile her up had been to tempting to turn down. He had been able to sense her agitation seeping into the wall.

His face creased in a wide grin and he wiggled his eyebrows. "Miss me?"

"Oh, stuff it. I don't know what you're so happy about." Her brows drew together when she took in his insolent grin. Clean and shaven with a brand-new pair of jeans, he looked almost halfway decent. She forced her eyes to remain on his face, not caring for the way she'd immediately noticed how well the inexpensive denim fit. Her scowl deepened. "With any luck, you'll be back under Garden supervision within the next twelve or so hours."

"Your point?"

Quistis saw an angle left open. While she knew it was immature, she couldn't hold herself back. "Excited to see Squall again, are you? I've always wondered quite what your relationship consisted of."

"Jealous?" Seifer was quick on the draw, too revitalized to bother taking the obvious bait.

"Perhaps." She let her head tilt almost bashfully. "But not of who you think."

"Why, Trepe. I didn't know you cared." His words were a low arrogant drawl. Quistis dug her nails into her palm to prevent herself from puking.

"What was I supposed to do? You were my student and then my charge. I couldn't exactly jump you on the spot." It was an effort, but she managed to keep her timbre soft and slightly coy. Her other hand slipped into her pocket as she took a step forward.

Seifer practically choked. He wasn't daft enough to buy her sudden innocent act but he had no clue as to what she was planning. He hadn't seen her in action sufficiently to be able to predict her movements. His eyes narrowed and tried to drill through her forehead to the gears of her mind beneath the smooth skin. He came up empty.

"All this time, huh?" He kept his voice nonchalant, leering down at her. "I won't lie to you and tell you I hadn't noticed."

"Was I that obvious?" She could sense his instinctive suspicion rising and knew the time to act was imminent. Quistis ran a light finger down the centre of his chest, eyes wide and locking on his. "Sometimes, I just can't help myself." Their bodies brushed and she knew she had him.

Seifer's mind blanked for a full second. By the time it had cleared again, her hands had caught both his wrists and twisted them behind his back. They made quick work of the metal handcuffs she'd kept hidden in the pocket of her loose pants, manacling his wrists and rendering him under her complete control.

He was not impressed. And not just because the metal dug into his wrists. His skin wasn't the only thing she'd bruised.

The look Quistis gave him was nothing short of triumphant. The way to a man, she'd learned, was through his ego. Especially this man.

"Didn't know you were into bondage." Not to be deterred for long, Seifer jerked back his head and gave her a long look full of exaggerated. "Darling, all you had to do was ask."

She wrinkled her nose and abstained from a reply. Yanking on his arms, she re-adjusted her bag and motioned him forward.

"Shut up. I've got more lead in this bag from your little canine friends in Timber than all of Garden receives in a year. I wouldn't advise messing with me." Their eyes met and they shared glares of mutual hatred. "Now walk."