Chapter 9

"The secret of creativity is knowing how to hide your sources." – Albert Einstein

Later that evening, Quistis found herself rooming with a considerably good amount of snoring from just a foot away from her bed. She pulled the bed covers over her head, as if it would shield off the raspy noise that Seifer was so skillful at making. From the amount of time he had been unconscious, she didn't think he'd be capable of falling asleep again. But after a considerably long shower and a heavy meal, he did quite soundly. Or sound-ful. If there was such a word.

Judging from the little objects that rattled on her coffee table, she won't likely make it through the night, or probably not even for the next hour. Quistis hadn't realized that a gun-blade would someday come in handy, because she didn't know whether to shoot the man on the couch, or shoot herself instead.

There was a sound that came between a choke and a snort that was louder than the rest he'd produced, she thought her door might burst.

Oh, she'll definitely shoot Seifer. Everyone on her floor might consider her for sainthood.

But there was still no way she'd be able to sleep through this infernal noise that had suddenly intruded her home. Even if she forced a gallon of water down her throat or counted the sheep that floated through her head nothing can make her sleep, except maybe the blessed silence that had once resided in her cozy little space.

It only took her mere seconds to decide that she will no longer share her living space with Seifer for one more minute. So, she swung her legs out of bed, snatched a pillow and slipped into her robe and slippers and forcefully strode out of the room, clad only in her pajamas. Even as she locked the door behind her, she could still hear the guttural sound emanating from inside. Whether it was from his nostrils or his mouth, she didn't know and wouldn't want to stay to find out.

Time to look on the bright side, she thought, dismissing the fact that it was pitch dark along the corridors. She might be trapped in the wackiest situations, but it was still heads and tails above being stuck with someone who snored terribly. Good God, if she hadn't gone out, she'd probably be deaf come morning.

Alright, maybe she was exaggerating the situation a bit too much, but this is the closest to a disaster her life could possibly get; Seifer sprawled out on her sofa.

She was grateful that at least her position at Garden was still secured and perhaps that was the only stimulus that had kept her sane through the whole ordeal.

Quistis followed the path that led towards the staff recreation room. She hoped nobody occupied it at the moment, considering it's unusually late for anyone to be up at this hour anyway. It's already two in the morning and nothing is specially interesting broadcasted on TV. Maybe she might fall asleep watching a late night informercial or some very droll cartoon program.

Still gripping the pillow under her arm, she twisted the knob that opened to an empty recreation room. It was a standard square room, which provided a couch and a chaise longue that were separated by an ottoman that served as a coffee table. From the three furniture, Quistis preferred that she would doubtless find it easier to sleep on the sofa.

It was too ludicrous not to find the irony in her sleeping arrangement. Just moments ago, she insisted that Seifer must take to the couch or sleep on the floor; not that he minded of course. Now here she was, driven out of her room and suffering the same conditions. She should've known that any imposition she'd place on him would backfire at her. She wouldn't be surprised if he was snoring deliberately, and had just ceased after she'd left. If she had offered him her bed, maybe he wouldn't have snored so loudly.

Offered him her bed! Ha!

The moment the thought had crossed her mind, the more annoyed she grew to herself. Oh, Quistis has a lot of reasons why she hated herself for thinking such a thing. Maybe because she knew she'd give up her bed for Seifer, knowing now that she couldn't stay in the same room with him anyway. And that led to why she didn't truly want being closed up in the same space with him. Because she knew, as much as she hated to admit it, that a man like him would never be interested in a woman like her.

And that was the problem. Seifer suddenly became someone she noticed, not just saw. He tried her patience within a five-minute time frame, which was a mystery, when five years ago, she didn't even care about his wayward behavior. Oh, he was deliberately rude back then, as if he was really trying to drive her mad, but it didn't bother her to the least and she managed to maintain tolerant and impassive. But that was gone, and his offensiveness was now replaced by a contemptuously annoying logic and rational insight.

And she was right, she thought egotistically. Seifer isn't the boy he used to be. The boy who was merely trying to goad her into frustration by flinging vulgarity and disrespect in her direction is long gone. But this afternoon, he managed to do just that, frustrate her that she lost control of her emotions, simply by being right.

Imagine that! Seifer suddenly becomes the voice of reason. That would mean the world has gone completely absurd. And it annoyed her that somehow their roles have been reciprocated. It didn't take him more than just a sensible comeback to push her into madness.

She couldn't remember the last time she screamed like a banshee. Come to think of it, she never really had. Seifer probably thinks her a hundred kinds of psychotics wrapped up in one. And she couldn't blame him, notably when she made a virtue of not reflecting her thoughts through her actions. Her behavior had surprised even herself. But it certainly felt good, screaming, that is. Maybe she can do it more often now that Seifer is available for cyclic screaming support.

"Oh sorry, I didn't realize someone was here."

Quistis looked up from the television and saw Laguna, dressed in his presidential pajamas, framed in the doorway. "Mr. Loire, it's quite alright. You weren't intruding. Please, feel free to watch anything," she said, handing him the remote control as she sat up to make room on the couch.

"Quistis?" He looked at her intently through the dim source of light from the TV. "Oh, didn't know it was you. Why are you still up?"

She wasn't about to divulge all the information so she simply said, "I could ask the same about you."

Laguna made his way to the chaise longue opposite her. "I got lost. And you?"

"I couldn't sleep." It was true, and she still can't. "Anyway, I can't imagine why you would get lost at this hour. Not unless you're sleep walking." She leaned forward and asked jokingly, "Are you?"

"Let me check." Laguna pinched himself on the arm. "I don't think so."

"I've never seen a sleep-walker in the act before, so I'm not familiar with the behavior." Quistis ribbed.

"Don't worry, I'm not a sleep-walker." Then his forehead wrinkled and added, "I think."

"I'm not worried. If you were sleep-walking, then you'll definitely won't notice that you're lost," she chuckled. Lost is his middle name. Although Laguna is a nice man, if he couldn't find his way, he'll somehow find himself muddled in the clouds. "Speaking of which, why are you lost anyway?"

"The kitchen," he groaned. "I can't find the kitchen."

"You're hungry?"

"Yes. Food suddenly sounded heavenly at this hour. Not that Mrs. Dincht's cooking wasn't fulfilling, I'd never had such good food served to me before." Laguna was beginning to drift off into a monologue. "Come to think of it, I'd pay her a visit right now if she's still awake."

"Trust me, she's not," she cut in. "Why don't we go to the kitchen together and I'll show you where it is, so the next time sudden hunger strikes you, you'll know where to find food."

"Capital idea," he clapped.

"I think food just might be the ticket to get me to sleep."

The two set out for a trek to the kitchen as they walked side by side along the dimly lit hallways. And both were in their pajamas and slippers.

"This is so odd," she heard herself say.

"What? Sneaking around Garden for some late night bite? I do this all the time in the mansion and nobody seems to mind. And I thought sneaking is usually a mercenary's forté," he quipped.

"It is, it's just that I never thought that I'd be using the skill for food, within Garden no less. How silly." She gave her head a little shake.

"Really? Well, if you think this silly, I don't know what you'd call outrageous."

How Seifer ended up in her bedroom; that is outrageous. And to tell Laguna that, is simply unwise. "I could think of a number of things, but I bet they couldn't possibly compare to what you might call silly," she said.

"Really, Quistis, it sounds as if to fall in love is the only thing that could get you to be silly."

"Now that, is what I'd call outrageous," she pointed.

Laguna shook his head. "I've been a thousand kinds of fool and have done so many outrageous things in my life. But," he raised a finger as he said, "the least outrageous of all, was when I actually fell in love."

"Raine must have been a truly exceptional woman," she said sympathetically.

His eyes looked distant as his mouth took on a dreamy smile and said, "She was that and more." He paused for a second and Quistis noticed that he was no longer with her, but at some long ago scene, meeting Raine for the very first time. Finally, just when she thought he'd completely forgotten the conversation, he looked back at her and said, "So you see, even now when I'm thinking of her, I bet you thought I looked silly. An old man still in love usually is."

"No, I don't think you are, Mr. Loire," she admitted. "You're a great many things, and silly isn't one of them."

He looked at her sideways and said, "You don't have to humor me. Even Squall thinks I'm a goof." Laguna waved his hand dismissively and added, "And how many times do I have to tell you, call me Uncle, I don't see the reason why you shouldn't start since I've almost, already, bared my soul."

Quistis covered her lips as she felt a faint laugh coming on. "I have no doubt that you'll soon have all of Esthar call you 'Uncle'."

"You think so?"

She nodded.

"Quistis, did I ever tell you that you are one very smart girl?"

She didn't know how to answer that, so she just smiled.

"Well, you are. And you will make some man very lucky one day," he raised a hand up before she could speak and said, "that is before you drive him crazy first."

"Now I don't know if that was a compliment, or if I should be insulted," she said in good humor.

"It was definitely a compliment." Then Laguna frowned, the corners of his mouth spilling into long vertical wrinkles on either side of his chin and said, "It would break my old bones and heart if I see a brilliant mind such as yours shackled to some brainless dunderhead who can't put two and two together. No, you definitely deserve a man who's equally clever. Or someone who's capable of outsmarting you."

"Well, whoever he is, still has to be unearthed," Quistis wanted to end the conversation about her so she changed the topic and announced, "Well, here we are. Let me be the first to welcome you to B-Garden's kitchen. On the other side is the cafeteria."

They were surrounded by pots and pans and a long counter that has over ten cooking stoves, while the cabinets seemed to stretch out for miles. Still, Laguna couldn't spot a fridge anywhere.

"Now, we look for food," he said.

"We have to walk all the way there," she pointed to where the cabinets ended.

"I wonder what's in it that they kept the fridge so far."

"Something good, I hope."

"Well, if they – " Whatever Laguna had meant to say, was rudely interrupted by an audibly piercing ring tone that came from his pocket

He dug in for his mobile phone.

"Do you carry that all the time?"

"Yeah, for emergency cases." The device kept ringing. "Excuse me, I have to take this call," he explained.

Quistis dipped her head and complied by giving him distance for privacy and made way towards the fridge, but even so, she had still overheard Laguna's portion of the phone call.

"Hello?"

There was a long gap of silence. Laguna gave her a fleeting glance, as if she was suddenly, either included or the subject of the conversation, then he returned his gaze back to the floor.

"Really? Well, don't worry about a thing. I'll take care of it from here." He flipped the phone back and slid it in his pocket before turning his attention to Quistis.

She didn't want to be caught listening in, so she hid her head behind the open fridge door, grabbed the brownies and announced, "This looks tempting." But when she emerged and looked up at Laguna over the tray she noticed that he was staring at her quite strangely. "Everything all right?" she queried.

"That looks yummy, but if there's a pitcher of milk to go with that, might as well bring it out." He pulled two stool chairs from under the counter and patted one, indicating for her to sit, as he made himself comfortable on the other. "Because you and I have much to discuss," he stated.

Quistis balanced the tray of brownies on one arm and at the same time, lifted a jug of milk before shutting the fridge door with her foot.

Whatever he intended to talk with her about, she was positively sure that it isn't going to be a topic she'll definitely like and anticipate. From the gleam in his eyes and the smile that was pulling at his lips, it's a topic that deserves a drink far stronger than milk.

A/N: I know, I know, I promised Saturday. I was recently preoccupied with the World Youth Day events. I'm really sorry. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter although I think it was rather short and a bit rushed. Now, Ch.10 hasn't been started yet, but it will be posted next week, Tuesday, August 6. Thank you for your usual kind patience.