"Dreams that do come true can be as unsettling as those that don't." – Brett Buttler, "Knee Deep In Paradise."

By the time Quistis reached the outer steps of Irvine's building, she was on cloud nine. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Instructor number fourteen was grinning like an idiot, beaming thirty-two or so straight, white teeth. The streets were busy with afternoon activities, and the children were scattered in-groups of games. Because she was so busy smiling, she didn't regard the nuisance of kids at play. She caught a stray ball hurtling her way without looking up and skipped through a Double-Dutch game without batting an eyelash. And she was smiling all the while. Smiling, smiling and smiling.

She may be more oblivious to anything than Zell, but this, she thought, was bliss. The sun was high, but the weather was mild, the birds flew over head, the breeze was refreshingly cool, and the waves lapping at the shores were music to her ears. She could even hear angels singing in chorus. It was ironic considering that there was such a storm the other night, but the day was even more beautiful than before.

She had felt transformed. Suddenly free of the burden of being Instructor Number Fourteen, she felt a new personality coming to the fore. It wasn't as if she had been putting on false airs; rather, it was more like her true self – the one she didn't know how to show to anyone she didn't know well – had finally broken loose.

She'd laughed; she'd joked. She even flirted. Well not really flirt, but whatever it was, it got her kissed.

It was almost too difficult to breathe. But she'll die smiling. Yes, that was something she hadn't done too often. This was a genuine smile. This moment couldn't have come to her sooner. But nonetheless, she was glad it did. She felt like dancing, she truly did. One might say it's childish.

The kiss had made all the difference. Oh, she knew she wasn't going to receive anymore in the future. She won't likely see him again after all. Seifer isn't going to stay in this small, stifling island. His capricious nature wouldn't allow him.

But she wasn't going to let that ruin the memory of their kiss. It was the only thing she could hold on to after he's gone. She'd relive the moment to get her through the rest of her days.

And this day will always have a special mark on her calendar.

Quistis took the long way home, cutting across Balamb Square for no other reason than she liked the sound of grass sliding under her boots. She'd been positively giddy since this morning. Even as she walked several feet away from the building where Seifer was, she wondered when her lips would stop tingling.

"Happy, happy, joy, joy," she sang to herself.

She reached a particularly damp patch and moved like a skater on the grass, softly singing, "Joy, joy, happy, happy," as she slid forward.

But she had the worst timing in the history of civilization (well, in her mind at least), when she skidded to a halt at the last instant instead of landing on her bottom, right when she heard a male voice call out her name.

It couldn't have been anyone more annoying.

"Irvine!" she said in a slightly peevish tone, holding still as she waited for him to reach her side. "What a coincidence."

"Balamb's too damn small for coincidences," he said, looking like he was trying not to smile. "Were you dancing?"
"Dancing?" she echoed.

He looked at her as if she didn't know what the word meant. "You know, a series of steps and movements. That kind of dancing."

"I was not dancing, I was skipping." She swallowed guiltily, because although she wasn't technically lying, she felt as if she were.

"I see," he muttered, but he was obviously suppressing a smile. "Well, whatever had you 'skipping' must be some very strong stuff."

Quistis had no control of the heat travelling over her face, and it was too obvious that Irvine had to notice.

"Aha!" he exclaimed. "Now, I'm dying to get home and see the tape."

Her head snapped up like a wild cat's. "What tape?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh," Irvine appeared surprised. "I guess you didn't see the video camera I left running in my apartment," he drawled.

Quisits felt the blood leave her face as horror dawned on her. But what wasn't apparent was that she was actually considering murder. The idea had never sounded so good.

Irvine took one pitying look at her and let out a nervous exhale. "I'm just joking, Quistis. You can start breathing now."

Quistis wanted to make some sort of cutting comment, but the truth was, he had so startled her that she couldn't utter a word.

"Now I'm very curious what just made you blush." He wiggled an eyebrow and gave her that knowing look.

She didn't even bother to wonder how the chemical make up of his brain works, always thinking of the dirtiest conclusions. "I swear Irvine, you act like a five year old."

"And that would put you where," he counted his fingers for effect. "six?"

Lacking a suitably cutting retort, Quistis just fixed upon him her blackest scowl.

But Irvine only laughed. "That's very attractive, but you might want to remove it from your face, because Your Knight In Rusty Armor is coming this way."

He meant Seifer. But Quistis refused to fall for his bait this time. He wasn't going to Make Her Look.

Irvine leaned forward and whispered, "This time, I'm not kidding."

Quistis held her scowl.

Irvine chuckled.

"Quistis!" Seifer's voice. Right at her ear.

She whirled around.

Irvine's laughter grew more heartfelt. "You really ought to have more faith in your favorite buddy."

"He's your favorite buddy?" Seifer asked, one golden brow arched in disbelief.

"Only because I couldn't tell Selphie about you," Quistis bit off. "and Zell's standing has never recovered from the time he gave my phone number to the Trepies in exchange for hotdogs."

"Makes me wonder what Squall's done to deny him a mention," Irvine muttered.

Quistis glared at him and asked. "Don't you have anyone else to annoy?"

Seifer looked from Quistis to Irvine as if he was watching a ping-pong match.

"I do, but you're my favorite," Irvine declared.

"Kinneas," Seifer called in between their banter. "you forgot to turn your camera off," he said and tossed a miniature video camcorder to Quistis.

Irvine paled.

Quistis reddened.

Irvine looked at Quistis who practically had steam coming from her nostrils.

"I swear, I didn't!" His mouth was opening and closing in a nervous wreck. "I was only joking. Seifer's just playing with us. He wasn't even here moments ago to even know about my joke. You've got to believe me."

Seifer was laughing inwardly. He really had no idea what they've been talking about earlier. He had intended to make a joke on Irvine about spy cameras installed in his apartment by Laguna, but he did not expect to see Quistis with him. At least his trickery was turning out to be a fine amusement.

Quistis was frighteningly calm until she said, "Irvine, I shall give you a ten second head start, and I promise you, that if I catch you," she paused for added suspense. "You. Are. Dead. You are so going to die."

There wasn't a man who did not fear dying from Quistis' magic abilities. It was a very slow and painful death. And Irvine was afraid that he might be close to that fate.

"Nice seeing you again, Seif." Irvine gave him a perfect salute. "Don't start counting, until I'm good and gone."

Quistis didn't bother to count, because he was already a football field away, even before she could utter 'one'.

"Took him long enough to take the hint," Quistis mumbled.

"You really have little faith in him," Seifer said.

She shook her head. "Whose side are you on?"

"That, my dear, if you look closely, is not even a camera," he said smugly, pointing to the object in her hand.

Quistis looked at the small black item.

"Well almost," Seifer added, "but just the lens."

Quistis laughed. Hard. She knew this day would come. The day when Irvine Kinneas would finally meet his match and leave him looking like a moron. She didn't think she'd see the day when his pestering would back fire at him, the day when he would meet someone as clever and who can actually outsmart him.

You definitely deserve a man who's equally clever. Or someone who's capable of outsmarting you.

She abruptly stopped laughing.

Not again, she thought. Since when did Laguna's voice register in her brain like an automated tele-marketer? She bet the old man has some sort of skill, other than spying, of installing repetitive subliminal messages in someone's mind.

"Quistis? What's wrong?" Seifer asked.

"Oh…nothing."

"That didn't look like nothing to me."

"I just remembered something, that's all," she covered.

Seifer didn't look convinced, but he gallantly dismissed it, tossing a hand in the air. "Anyway, I didn't expect to run into you, but since you're here," he paused, tightening his lips at the corners before continuing. "I might as well tell you."

Quistis held her breath.

Seifer looked around their surroundings. "Can we go somewhere less public?"

But he'd already dragged her before she could utter a response.

They reached a fairly shaded spot that blocked them from anyone who might come across Balamb Square.

"You look different in the afternoon," he said.

Her lips parted in consternation. "You took me here to tell me that?"

He shook his head.

"What is it?" she asked.

But he didn't allow her to react, or release a gasp as her eyes widened when his head closed in and his lips landed on hers.

Seifer wasn't sure at what moment he knew he was going to kiss her. It was probably something he never knew, just something he felt.

Up until that very last minute he'd been able to convince himself that he was only pulling her behind the hedge to tell her he was leaving, that he was only going to say goodbye.

But something had happened – it started this morning – or maybe it had been happening all along, and he'd just been trying so hard not to notice it. Her eyes changed; they almost glowed. And when she parted her lips – just the tiniest bit, barely enough for a breath, but it was enough that he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

His hand snaked up her arm, over the sleeve of her shirt, and across her bare skin. It stole around to her back, pulling her closer, squeezing out the distance between them. He wanted her closer. He wanted her around him, atop him, beneath him. He wanted her so much it terrified him.

He molded her to him, his arms wrapping around her like a vise. He could feel the length of her now, every last inch. She was considerably shorter than he was, so her breasts flattened against the bottom of his ribs.

He shuddered with desire.

Seifer groaned, a primitive sound that was mixed with need and frustration. He wasn't going to be able to have her this night – he wasn't able to have her ever, and he needed to make this touch last him a lifetime.

But the rest – how she would feel, how she would taste – he could only imagine.

And then somehow – to his dying day he would never know how – he stepped away from her. Just an inch, but it was enough for the cool afternoon breeze to slide between their bodies.

His hands cupped her cheeks, holding her steady so that he might drink in the sight of her. It was bright enough to see the exact colors that made her face unforgettable, but Seifer knew that her lips were soft and pink, with just a tinge of peach at the corners. He knew that her eyes were made up of dozens of shades of blue, with that one enchanting circle of green constantly daring him to take a closer look, to see if it was really there or just a figment of his imagination.

When he saw her across a room, his skin grew hot, but when he saw her in his dreams, he went up in flames.

Now – now that he had her in his arms, her breath fast and uneven, her eyes glazed with need she couldn't possibly comprehend – he thought he might explode.

And so kissing her became a matter of self-preservation. It was simple. If he did not kiss her again, if he did not consume her, he would die. It sounded melodramatic, but at the moment he would have sworn it to be true. The hand of desire twisting around his gut would burst into flames and take him along with it.

He needed her that much.

When his lips finally covered hers again, he was not gentle. He was not cruel, but the pulse of his blood was too ragged, too urgent , and his kiss was that of a starving lover, not that of a gentle suitor.

"Oh, my God," he moaned, his hands biting into the soft curve of her buttocks, pulling her closer, needing her to feel the pulse of his desire. "I never knew…I never dreamed…"

But it was a lie. He had dreamed. He'd dreamed in vivid detail. But it was nothing next to the real thing.

It no longer mattered what was right, what was proper. All that mattered was that she was here, in his arms, and he wanted her.

Reluctantly, he drew away.

She was breathing rapidly, her pulse still racing with passion.

"You brought me here for that?" she said with a touch of sarcasm.

"If I leave, will you come with me?."

She stiffened then asked, "What?"

"Didn't you hear me?"

"I heard you, but –"

He stopped her short. "We'll leave this place, just you and me."

Seifer would have expected her to be surprised, but from the look she was giving him, she was downright deflated.

"You're really set on leaving, aren't you?" she whispered.

He dropped his arms at his sides. "I thought I made it clear."

There was a flash of fleeting anger in her eyes when she said, "You left me thinking you'd stay and consider your options."

"I didn't say anything of such."

"What did you expect me to believe after you…after you – "

It humbled him that she wasn't even able to say what they've shared. "People call it kissing."

"I know that," she said, as a red tide overcame her face.

He raised a supercilious brow. "Obviously, you don't want me to leave."

She didn't say anything to that, because if she did, she would have been lying.

He smiled contentedly and said, "I like kissing you too."

Quistis' face animated into what he could only call as shock. "That's not what I –"

"Then come with me," he repeated once again.

"To where? Where's your home, Seifer?" she asked, crossing her arms indignantly. "Do you even have one?"

There was a full minute of silence before Seifer replied.

He merely nodded and simply said, "Esthar."

Quistis' world spun at an alarming rate. But she was too exultant to want it to stop. It was all overwhelming and yet altogether frightening.

Seifer is going to be a president.

"Will you come with me?" he asked her once more.

Her lips were moving erratically, not knowing which words to form. When all's said and done, she was blatantly torn. Between her home. And the man who can possibly make her dreams come true, and as well, easily crush it.

He didn't wait for her response and instead, sweetened the pot. "I'll be a damn good president, that I know for sure. I can't fail now. I promise you."

When she still didn't utter a reply he added. "I'll give you whatever you want. Clothes, jewels – hell forget about the clothes and jewels, you never have to work anymore most of all, I can give you this."

Quistis had just enough time to gasp before his lips descended on hers with a ferocity that turned her knees to water. It was like no kiss they'd ever shared, harsh with need, and laced with an odd, strange anger.

"I want you," he said roughly, his lips finding the hollow at the base of her throat.

"Seifer – "

"I want you in my bed," he growled, "I want you now, I want you tomorrow and I want you the next day."

Quistis was wicked, and she was weak, and she gave in to the moment. His lips felt so good against her skin, sending shivers and tingles to the very center of her being. He made her long for him, long for all the things she couldn't have, and curse the things she could have.

With a tortured cry, she pushed him with all the strength she could muster from both her heart and body and achingly said, "No."

His breathing was haggard.

"I can't be your…" She couldn't say it. The word tasted bitter.

Oh, God, it was so tempting. So incredibly tempting. He was offering her a life of ease and luxury, a life with him.

But at the price of her soul.

"I don't see why not" he muttered.

The arrogance of his tone pricked at her, or maybe the impudence in his posture. Her palm connected like whip to his face with such ferocity "Because I don't want to," she snapped.

His eyes narrowed, not with suspicion, but with anger. "You just wanted to a few seconds ago."

"I wasn't thinking."

His chin jutted out antagonistically. "You're not supposed to be thinking. That's the point of it."

She blushed as she redid her buttons she wasn't aware, until now, that had been undone. He'd done a very good job of making her not think. She'd almost thrown away a lifetime of morals and etiquette, all at one wicked kiss. "Well, I still won't be your… hussy."

"And what are you going to do instead?" he hissed. "Work as an instructor for an institution that never really cared about your potentials? If you truly are that valuable to them, then the least you could expect is a promotion or a raise. What do they do? They fired you and as a reward for your heroic service in the war, they just give you your job back. Isn't that nice of them."

The truth couldn't have stung more if it came from someone else. But she held her composure and dignity, "If I have to work myself to the bones, I will. But I will not work like that for you."

"You'd rather drown in paperwork when I could dress you in silk – hell, forget the silk, I'll dress you in nothing at all and we can have bliss." Then he tried to pull her again, but she backed away.

His trick wouldn't work on her twice.

He raked a shaking hand through his hair.

She'd hurt him, she realized. She had hurt him and insulted his pride, and he was lashing out like a wounded bear.

But she was dying inside.

He leaned forward instead, his eyes burning hot into hers. "I could give you everything."

Somehow she managed to stand up straight, and somehow, she managed not to cry. And somehow she even managed to keep her voice even as she said, "If you think that's everything, then you're probably not president-material."

She took a step back, intending to head to Garden, then she added, "And you can't possibly afford me."

It was possibly the hardest thing for her to do. She turned around and never looked back.