Chapter 11

"The real winners in life are the people who look at every situation with an expectation that they can make it work or make it better." – Barbara Fletcher

Quistis gulped down the tea she'd been in the process of sipping. Tea wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but really, Irvine didn't have anything else in his cupboard. Of course, he is a sniper after all and that would mean that coffee isn't listed as his primary drink.

Irvine was just as surprised to see her in his doorstep as she was at his living condition, not that he lived very far from Garden, he did after all, purchased a small convenient flat in Balamb two years ago. It's only that she didn't expect his apartment to be so neat and tidy. Some could say that one could eat off of his floor.

"What do you think they're talking about now?" Irvine asked, not really looking at her since he was staring out his window and judging the sky.

"I'm not sure. Probably the same thing," she shrugged.

"That he was being spied on? Didn't Laguna already tell you that? So why would he ask you to leave?" Irvine removed himself from the window, sat himself across Quistis and looked at her intently.

"I think he knew what Seifer's reaction would be and he probably wanted to spare him the embarrassment, so he asked me to leave. It's not everyday that a person finds out that someone's been tailing him," she said pointedly.

"Well, on top of being kidnapped I'm sure," he returned.

Quistis' eyes narrowed and suddenly seeing nothing but red. "I most certainly did not kidnap him. He was just…misplaced. That's all. A terrible misplacement caused by terrible timing." she bit out.

"That's not what he called it," Irvine put in.

"You shouldn't be talking to him as he's obviously polluting your brain," she scoffed.

"Or I could be polluting his," Irvine argued. He shook his head at her. "You sound as if he's already driven you crazy, and here I thought I was the only one who could do that. But he seems to be doing triple of my job." This earned him an angry look, but he rushed in to add, "He kept you awake last night, eh?"

Quistis was ready to wring his neck. "Oh for heaven's sake, Irvine. Must you make fun at every chance you get? Seriously, I don't find anything amusing in this situation."

"Sorry." He muttered, but it didn't really sound like he meant it. "I couldn't resist."

"Hmph, since when did you ever," she snorted.

"You should stop worrying, Quistis. Didn't Laguna say he'd take care of everything? You should be glad that Seifer will finally be out of your hair." Irvine leaned back in his seat.

Quistis acknowledged his statement with nothing more than an arch of her brow. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to believe him. Because she's already formed an outlook. "One thing is for sure though. He will not, I repeat, will not spend another night in my dorm room."

Irvine's face lit up with a grin. "I'll say, did he do something to you?"

She paused for a second and sought the right words that fully described her ordeal last night. Then she gave Irvine a somber look. "The man snores like a slaughtered cow," she said plainly.

"And you don't?" Irvine shot back disdainfully.

"I know I don't."

He tipped his chin at an angle. "Maybe, but you talk in your sleep."

Quistis settled her teacup down and glared at him. Not that she believed herself to talk during asleep. But Irvine is the most likely person to know such a thing about her when he's the only one who could remember most of their childhood. Even if he's one of the closest friends she could easily talk to, she still held out things, which he might find incredibly amusing that he wouldn't miss the opportunity to poke fun at. She tilted her head and crossed her brows. "How would you know?" she asked suspiciously.

"Same as how you would know that you don't snore," he said smugly.

He got her there. Drat! How does one catch oneself from snoring, indeed. "I assure you that I don't snore. Simply knowing that, is enough not to make me"

"Well, maybe Seifer doesn't know that he does. If you tell him, he'd probably stop," he stated simply before taking another sip of tea.

She pulled her head back. "Are you trying to provide me with a reason to let him stay?" Without taking her eyes from Irvine, Quistis stood up, walked over to his kitchen and placed her empty cup in the sink.

"Of course not." Irvine countered. But even as he said so, he was hiding a cheeky smile behind his cup. "You're the one who came up with a lame excuse to get rid of him."

"Lame excuse?" she echoed.

"Just because the guy snores doesn't mean he deserves to be thrown out," he stated indignantly. "Just look at things from his point of view; he'd been banished from Gardens, spied on for five years, add kidnapped over that, and now you want to leave him homeless."

Quistis had the sudden urge to pour hot water over his head. "How many times do I have to repeat myself that I did not, did not – ' she repeated, just in case his brain was too dulled by single-minded male pride to have understood her the first time. " – kidnap him."

"Alright, alright." Irvine raised both hands as if in surrender. "Don't work yourself into a snit."

"I am not working myself in a snit," she gritted. "I can't believe you're complaining on his behalf."

He downed the last drop of tea then tightened his lips at the corners. "All I'm saying is that you give the guy a chance. He's not so bad. Maybe you'll even come to like him after you find something you can talk about," he said firmly.

She stared at him for several seconds. There's something lurking behind that impish look. And there is definitely more to Irvine's idea than just suggesting that Seifer must stay in her dorm room. Dear God! Is he playing matchmaker? He's too sneaky not to have an objective.

She rolled her eyes under closed lids. It wasn't a difficult estimation that Seifer, Irvine and Laguna all belong in the same pack. Clearly, schemers the lot of them.

She made a sardonic chortle before saying, "Playing cupid, doesn't become you Irvine."

An eyebrow shot up and a corner of his lips pulled up as he answered, "Prince charming, maybe." He paused before he continued in a serious attitude. "Anyway, this is just a temporary arrangement for you. I doubt Seifer's enjoying his living condition as much as you are, so why don't you just try to get along. Make the best out of the situation." He handed her his cup to be placed in the sink and joined her in his kitchen.

Quistis stared at the cup in her hand and mulled over his last sentence before saying, "He's really annoying the moment he opens his mouth, you know."

Irvine shook his head in defeat. "I almost forgot how you can be so childish sometimes."

Quistis' jaw jutted out. "I'm not being childish."

Irvine shot her a look that said she couldn't defend that argument.

"Oh, alright," Quistis blew out, "I'll try to be on my best behavior."

"I'm curious to find out what makes up a good behavior."

"I'm sure I'll find out as I go along," she muttered.

Irvine gave his head a little weary shake. "If you can't ignore the man, do something. Write in your journal, read a book. Anything."

His suggestion took her by surprise, "Read a book? There couldn't be a story more ridiculous than the one I'm living right now." Quistis was rather startled by his tone. Irvine had just lectured her, which was a first because it was usually the other way around.

Irvine gave up. He swatted the air that meant he'd quit arguing with her and walked back towards the window. There suddenly seems to be something in the sky that caught his interest instead.

"Anyway, I think I better get back," she declared.

He turned around and asked, "Did you walk?"

She nodded. "It's not very far. Nothing more than ten minutes really."

"Take a cab. I think it's going to rain," he predicted. How very much Irvine-like to always consider a lady's welfare.

"You might be right," she agreed.

"I'm always right," Irvine said with a sniff.

"No, you just think you're always right." Quistis smiled slyly. She emptied the teapot and placed it in the sink along with the cups and saucers. "I should go," she said.

Irvine tore himself away from the window and returned his attention to her. "I'll call you a cab," he offered. He reached for the phone and dialed a taxi service number then made the necessary request to his address.

She thanked goodness for Irvine even if he was a touch too cheeky for a friend. Not only was he the sort of friend whose concern for someone else comes first, he also has the ability to make the worst situations sound so analytical. It was his gift, she reflected. Maybe the trait came with being a sniper, where every situation is measured at every angle. Still, he does enjoy poking fun at her, which, she thought, was not amusing half the time.

"It'll be here in ten minutes," he announced after hanging up the phone.

"Thanks, Irvine," she returned. "For everything."

"Hey, I'll have none of that," he waved off. "What are friends for if not for platonic tea services and timing weather forecasts?" He said almost jauntily and looked quite pleased with himself.

"Actually, I was rooting for coffee, but tea almost had the same effect," she said.

Irvine flopped himself onto the couch and began flipping through a newspaper, "Well, now that you've just compared it to coffee, I just might serve nothing else but hot-water next time you visit," he said without looking up.

"I rarely visit."

Then his head snapped in her direction as if he suddenly remembered something. "Speaking of visits, are you joining us at Mrs. Dincht tonight?"

She wore a confused look. She didn't expect Mrs. Dincht to invite them again after having them over just last evening. "Tonight? What's going on there tonight?"

"Dinner," he said brusquely.

"Again?"

"Sure, why not?" He shrugged then continued, "I do love Mrs. Dincht, but I really just go for the food."

Just as Irvine had predicted. It began pouring like there's not tomorrow. When Quistis left Irvine's house and returned to Garden, she stopped by first at the cafeteria. She remembered something about coming back with food to her dorm room. Food. Men could barely think of anything else. Maybe if she kept Seifer's stomach full, he wouldn't be able to say anything smart that would sure to drive her crazy. Maybe he won't be able to say anything at all with his mouth stuffed.

Irvine's words kept playing over and over in her head. Make the best out of the situation. Ha! That is unless she could find something good about it first. She doesn't have much experience on how to keep pets, let alone keep a human being. All she knows about pet maintenance is feeding them.

Feed the dog and keep him happy. Same thing goes for a gold fish.

And men.

Now that she thought about it, food really might be the sole purpose of why men exist on earth. Of course that conclusion was singularly based on her observation of the past few days. Counting, of course, Ellone's wedding when all of the invited male species practically whined for the ceremony to finish and then later dove into their plates with so much vigor, and not to mention that she caught Laguna creeping about the Garden's halls looking for the kitchen (she eventually ended up creeping along with him), now Irvine's just taking advantage of Mrs. Dincht's hospitality to satisfy his appetite, not that he didn't like Mrs. Dincht. Everybody loved Mrs. Dincht. It's just that Irvine couldn't stand his own cooking. And neither could anyone else.

Seifer as a pet. The thought made her shudder.

And it made her smile.

It's not such a very kind view on her part, but at least she found something humorous in the situation. Then Irvine's voice echoed in her mind again. Make the best out of the situation. Oh she couldn't make the best out if it, but she definitely can laugh over it.

Bless Irvine and his ineffective counsel.

"And what are you having, sweetheart?" Her train of thoughts was suddenly broken by a cheerful greeting of the cafeteria server. Quistis almost forgot that she had reached the head of the line-up.

"I'll get each of everything," she requested.

The stout woman smiled in a suspicious manner and said, "That's a lot for a scrawny little thing like you. Have you been starving yourself, girl?"

Quistis thought that the woman must be new to Garden or she would've recognized her in the beginning. Even as she thought her a little too forward for a lunch lady, she didn't mind it. She rather liked her forwardness and offered her an honest smile. "I decided to include dinner in it and save myself the trip back."

"Ah, take out then. Got a lot of work, eh?" the woman said as she forked the potatoes into a plate-box.

"More than a lot. It's been rather hectic lately" Quistis replied. She found it easy to fall into a friendly conversation. Something to pass the time as she let her collect the food. A lot of food. But she had no doubt that Seifer would just inhale it all anyway.

"Ach, the kitchen was turned inside out too. This morning we had to bake another batch of brownies," she said as she moved on to the beef stew and soup entrées. " They just disappeared overnight, and there were two trays!" she continued. "I hope you don't mind if I didn't pack you a dessert. They're still in the oven so come back down when they're good and ready," the older woman rambled on. She didn't seem to notice that Quistis had gone crimson from the neck up.

"I don't mind. I'll help myself to a chocolate bar in one of our vending machines," she blurted. If she only knew that those brownies were supposed to be served the next day, she wouldn't have even thought of touching it. But they just looked so tempting that it practically called out to her. And they just tasted so divine that neither her nor Laguna noticed they had eaten two trays. But then again, it really was her first time stealing from the Garden kitchen anyway. And she hadn't indulged herself for so long other than the alcohol incident.

The lunch server presented her order in a neat pile of plate-boxes inside a plastic bag with a cheerful smile. "Don't be shy to come back."

"Thanks." She'll probably be back just as soon as Seifer gets hungry again. And that probably won't be long.

Seifer suddenly wasn't feeling very well. Although his health was in good state, he still didn't feel like himself. He was clutching the crumpled ball of paper in his fist. He somewhat wished it would disintegrate in his palm. Wished that he'd see nothing but powder the moment he'd open his hand. But he was afraid that if he does so, he just might unwrap what probably was the most significant choice he could ever make in his life. Afraid of its great magnitude. But even more afraid that he just might actually consider making it. His fist tightened. The blasted paper is still there.

He didn't know what else to make of it. Nothing seemed to make sense the moment he read the note. Nothing sounded so ludicrous. And nothing had ever sounded so simple. And as outrageous as it is that was exactly how Laguna made it sound. So utterly simple.

But insane.

He can't be the man everyone wishes to be. For as long as he'd known himself, his life never really followed the path of a saint. Not that he was the worst sort of evil. All he did was avoid any sort of attachments to an obligation to society. It isn't that he didn't care. But little things like an overturned truck he'd passed by along his way to Dollet, or a fire consuming a house in Winhill were just the kinds he simply couldn't ignore. He didn't have any excuse to. So he'd just pick himself up and help out.

But he'd never go out of his way to actually improve the human condition. He was just one man after all. His living condition alone is more than unstable. Miserable if he wanted to exaggerate. But every now and then, he simply had to get away. There was just no other way to describe it.

He had no clue what it was he really wanted. Deep down inside it's something he wanted to do. The places he'd been to didn't particularly inspire him. He still found nothing in everywhere. So he'll go and leave to any destination. Anything to fill the void in his life that holed up in there five years ago.

He wanted something he can point to and say, 'this is what my life is all about.'

He wanted a purpose.

And all of a sudden, it was within his reach. No, it was more like offered to him on a silver platter. A chance to give his life some sort of meaning. It was literally there in the palm of his hands. Crumpled into a tight ball.

It was overwhelming.

And nothing could be more preposterous.

He smiled wryly to himself. This was the cruelest irony of all. He'd long ago given up on his dreams. More than that, he'd actually given up dreaming. And now, something akin to his every hopes and dreams can so be easily realized simply by that single stump of paper in his hand. It had practically wedged a place in his life. No, Laguna had practically wedged it in his life.

He tossed the balled note into an empty wastebasket. There wasn't any room in his life for something that big. He'll just be setting himself up for failure.

Seifer looked up at the sudden twist of the doorknob. It opened to reveal Quistis who was desperately balancing a pile of binders and folders and…did he smell food?

He rushed towards her to help and grabbed the top of the stack.

"I don't know if you actually wanted to help me or if you're just excited to see food," she said, steering clear of the door as she closed it with her foot.

"As glad as I am to see you, the food just made your entrance more exciting," he said with an expression that was altogether innocent and sly at the same time.

She blew out an unladylike snort. "I knew you'd be hungry so I salvaged whatever they were serving downstairs."

"Really, you did that for me?" He clutched a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "I'm touched. Now I'm really beginning to think you're coming to like me."

"God help me."

Seifer began to inspect the plate-boxes and opened them one by one. "Hey, where's the dessert?"

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "It's ten in the morning. Breakfast is unlikely to have a dessert."

"Not unless you planned on including my lunch and dinner here," he complained.

"You're going to have to do without. There was some commotion downstairs about a case of the missing brownies," she said in a dry tone.

Then he wore an adorably hangdog expression and said, "Too bad. It had been a while since I had desserts in my meals."

One thing she couldn't resist though, were those kind of expressions when someone looked as if they'd just been pulled off from their first pony or their dog had suddenly died or broke a wheel in their bike. She'd seen those puppy-dog eyes in her younger students from ages six to eight and it would strongly pull at her heart then end up giving them a higher mark than they deserved. And Seifer's twenty-four! How was it possible that he could put on a face of a five-year old?

"Oh alright! I'll get you a cookie or something."

He just grinned, that loose easy grin that bared flashy white teeth and said, "Now I think you just love me."

"Hyne forbid."

"You look like a bag of bones. Sit," he pulled out her desk chair and continued to say, "Eat."

"No, thanks. I already ate," Her insides suddenly felt funny. Not because of the thought of eating again. It has something to do with him being unexpectedly…nice. Except for the part about being called a 'bag of bones.'

"Don't think I'm not being a gracious guest. I'd hate to be starving my host," he drawled, popping a potato fry into his mouth.

"Oh, be my guest. Eat yourself into oblivion,"

His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners and looked at her sideways. "I just might think you've put something in my food."

"It would take something stronger than poison to kill you."

"A steel door maybe," he sniggered

"The steel door suffered more from the bump than you have. Look at you," she said, throwing a hand in his direction. " – you're practically back on your feet."

"I am on my feet," he pointed out.

"So it appears," she muttered. She flicked the switch on her desk lamp then asked, "Where's Laguna?"

His lips curved slightly. "I was wondering how long it was going to take you to ask."

"Well, I'm asking now. Where did he go?"

"I don't know," he said simply, reaching for another plate-box.

If she wanted to ask what they had talked about, she didn't voice it. She knew her place when a private talk is a private talk. And it was one of such or she wouldn't have been asked to leave earlier.

Quistis sat on the desk chair he'd offered earlier, not to eat, but get some unfinished paperwork done. "Anyway, I have to do some work if you don't mind," she continued.

He didn't mind of course, because when he moved onto the plate-box with the beef stew, he was useless for conversation after that.

A/N: Falling in love with Irvine yet? Dying to know what was in that note? Sorry if it took me ages to update. I'm virtually busy with my other projects. But have no fear, this one will not go unfinished. The mystery of Laguna's note will be unveiled, next chapter, which will be posted on Wednesday, August 14, 2002. I'm really glad that you are enjoying my story. Your kindness will not be overlooked as I live to please.