|Disclaimer: The disclaimer ran away after being harassed one too many
times. He left a note here saying: 'I am not responsible, I do not own
anything, so you can't sue me', signed 'HA HA HA'. Temperamental little
fellow, eh?|
----~----
A pigeon flew away as Squall kicked a loose rock at it, the stone rolling to a halt and tipping over the edge of the curb and into a sewer beneath. The shops lining the street weren't open yet, but all of the restaurants were - especially the bagel shop, and a man standing outside waving around the things wasn't helping. Squall turned his head away to ward off upcoming nausea; he couldn't bring himself to even drink the latte that Yuffie brought home that morning - he hadn't remembered when he had had a dinner quite as filling as the one last night.
New York never slept, and was still busy during the early morning, although it paled in comparison to how clogged it would get within the next few hours. He left an hour before he was due at the university every day just in case of a surprise parade or street fair, which happened more than one would think. Hands shoved in his pockets, head bowed to keep out as much of the inviting (yet nauseating) aromas, his heavy coat dragged around his ankles - more like a trench coat, he realized. He was spending way too much time examining Yuffie's wardrobe, from her long overcoats to floor-length karate robes. This particular beauty was his father's, and he had dug it out of hiding (it had been stored craftily away in a cardboard box in the back of the closet) for the chill November weather.
He grinned despite himself as he thought of Yuffie, mentally checking off the box next to 'devise perfect date.' She had seemed to genuinely like it, which made him happy - and then she had managed to locate Cloud and Aerith's restaurant while they were still there. Although that might have been for the worse, since Cloud gave them the death stare as soon as they entered Umberto's. The Italian had been a good idea (not that you could get much else in Little Italy), and afterwards, just like he had suggested, they had found beloved pastry shop Ferarra's. It had been a good night all in all, and they had dragged themselves back to the apartment freezing, laughing, and so full that they thought baked clams would just start bursting out of their stomachs.
A quick tapping on the sidewalk behind him made Squall freeze, and he wondered vaguely if pickpockets were out this early. 'Probably,' the thought dismally, and edged his way over to a few newspaper vendors, pretending to be fumbling in his pockets for the correct coins. However, before he could even manage to look convincing, a pair of gloved hands grabbed onto his shoulders, and what felt like a rather light person spun in the air using his shoulders as leverage, and before he could try and get away, Yuffie landed in front of him with a broad grin on her face, hands clasped in front of her.
"Hey! I threw up this morning!" she chirped, indigo eyes shining with delight.
"Thanks for sharing," he replied dryly, although leaving out the greater amount of sarcasm he had intended for. She barely flinched at his comment, and continued on in a great turmoil of happiness.
"That means I can't go to school, because I'm sick! So I get to spend the day with you!" she quipped instantly, and struck out to latch onto his arm.
"W-what? N-no, you can't! I-I've got classes to help Cloud with; you can't come! I'm just an intern, Yuffie; having you there could blow my whole internship!" he sputtered, clearly not happy about it. He tore his arm away from her, backing away slowly. "G-go stay at the apartment if you're sick!" Yuffie pushed her lips into a pout.
"But its so boooooring in the apartment, Squall! Please? Just this once? I'll leave at lunchtime if I'm such a pain, but I promise I won't be! You won't even notice I'm there!" The joy in her voice reverberated off of the restaurants and shops around them.
He groaned loudly and drew a hand down his face. "That's what they all say in the movies, and they end up getting into more trouble than one could imagine. Yuffie, please stay home?" However, he already knew the answer, and didn't wait to start going back up the street, Yuffie clinging to his arm like a four-year-old.
----~----
"'Won't even notice I'm there?'" Cloud mocked, looking at Squall with wide eyes. "Squall, this class has all sophomores in it! Don't you think that they'll notice a new student, and a younger one at that?"
"I know, I know, but she wouldn't leave me alone!" Squall moaned, stripping off his long coat and hanging it over the back of his cheap swivel chair. "Man, being an intern bites . . ." he muttered, testing out the limited amount of recline on the chair.
"What if she pukes during class? Or starts waving to your or something equally stupid? C'mon, Squall, get a grip!" Cloud slammed a fist on his mammoth desk, and Yuffie's head jerked up. She had been strolling along the lines of the tiny desks, elevated one row above each other, and now she grinned at the two men below.
"I can't . . . I can't just throw her outta here. C'mon, its only for a few hours; how bad could it possibly get, huh?" he begged, trying to get Cloud to see reason.
"For your sake, I hope you're right," the blonde muttered, groaning inwardly as the sounds of sophomores racing in the halls greeted his tired ears.
----~----
". . . You don't look so good," Yuffie said quietly, taking a seat opposite the irritated-and-sick-looking intern. He merely growled at her, not having the strength to let loose his safe-full of insults that he kept hidden away for just his reason. The morning had been a disaster, from Yuffie needing assistance in getting textbooks to the girls (or co-eds, as Squall and Cloud referred to them as) of the class giggling whenever he stood up to lecture them about something-or-other. Yuffie hadn't done anything really embarrassing, save maybe answer a question or two of his and then blush furiously; the other students had made it much, much worse. By the time class was over, he had wanted to throw up and kill all of them at the same time, and darted out to the nearest Starbucks in order to nab a mid-day latte.
"Yeah, well, you try being humiliated in front of your whole class and keep a cheery disposition," he said acidly, pushing the coffee away. His stomach hadn't agreed with it, and now all he wanted to do was curl up in the window seat and forget about the university -- and his crappy day.
"Sorry. I didn't think I was doing anything really wrong -" she began, but he cut her off with a firm shake of his head.
"No, sorry, that didn't come out right. I'm . . . not blaming it on you. The other students are just such adolescents, its hard to deal with sometimes. I . . . great. It's starting to snow," he muttered, gesturing vaguely towards the large, inviting windows. The sky had been prepping to open up all morning, and finally the clouds gave way and huge, spiraling snowflakes drifted lazily onto the busy Manhattan streets.
Yuffie was scrutinizing him intently, hands protectively covering her own stomach, which had been threatening to turn all morning. "I'm serious, Squall. You look sick or something," she tried, feeling that way herself. 'Should have stayed at the apartment,' she mused silently, turning her head away from the coffee that sat innocently on the edge of their miniscule, square table.
"And you don't?" he shot back, obviously irritable in the current state. Maybe a few days ago she would have spat something back as equally venomous, but right now she could tell that he was just being . . . well, Squall, for one matter - and a sick Squall had to be a LOT worse than a healthy one.
"Listen," she said after a minute, drawing her overcoat tighter around her, "I'm going back to the apartment before I puke all over you, okay? You look like you could use that as well, you know. Anyway, I'm calling Aerith when I get there, and my professors to tell them. Just . . . try not to get sick all over Cloud, you hear?" she told him sternly, and waited - about two minutes - for a nod before saluting him and exiting the coffee shop.
----~----
Uh-oh . . . Squall and Yuffie have a stomach virus, which means that there's gonna be the taking-care-of-each-other thingee. Anyone who knows me knows that I can't get by in a fic without having a sickfic bit, so I hope you don't mind. Its just another way to further improve their relationship.
Anyway, sorry for the late chapter. Today was the day The Two Towers came out, and since I usually do the chapters at night, last night I was watching anime up the wazoo (Inuyasha and Blue Gender, which ROCKS). Well, enjoy!
----~----
A pigeon flew away as Squall kicked a loose rock at it, the stone rolling to a halt and tipping over the edge of the curb and into a sewer beneath. The shops lining the street weren't open yet, but all of the restaurants were - especially the bagel shop, and a man standing outside waving around the things wasn't helping. Squall turned his head away to ward off upcoming nausea; he couldn't bring himself to even drink the latte that Yuffie brought home that morning - he hadn't remembered when he had had a dinner quite as filling as the one last night.
New York never slept, and was still busy during the early morning, although it paled in comparison to how clogged it would get within the next few hours. He left an hour before he was due at the university every day just in case of a surprise parade or street fair, which happened more than one would think. Hands shoved in his pockets, head bowed to keep out as much of the inviting (yet nauseating) aromas, his heavy coat dragged around his ankles - more like a trench coat, he realized. He was spending way too much time examining Yuffie's wardrobe, from her long overcoats to floor-length karate robes. This particular beauty was his father's, and he had dug it out of hiding (it had been stored craftily away in a cardboard box in the back of the closet) for the chill November weather.
He grinned despite himself as he thought of Yuffie, mentally checking off the box next to 'devise perfect date.' She had seemed to genuinely like it, which made him happy - and then she had managed to locate Cloud and Aerith's restaurant while they were still there. Although that might have been for the worse, since Cloud gave them the death stare as soon as they entered Umberto's. The Italian had been a good idea (not that you could get much else in Little Italy), and afterwards, just like he had suggested, they had found beloved pastry shop Ferarra's. It had been a good night all in all, and they had dragged themselves back to the apartment freezing, laughing, and so full that they thought baked clams would just start bursting out of their stomachs.
A quick tapping on the sidewalk behind him made Squall freeze, and he wondered vaguely if pickpockets were out this early. 'Probably,' the thought dismally, and edged his way over to a few newspaper vendors, pretending to be fumbling in his pockets for the correct coins. However, before he could even manage to look convincing, a pair of gloved hands grabbed onto his shoulders, and what felt like a rather light person spun in the air using his shoulders as leverage, and before he could try and get away, Yuffie landed in front of him with a broad grin on her face, hands clasped in front of her.
"Hey! I threw up this morning!" she chirped, indigo eyes shining with delight.
"Thanks for sharing," he replied dryly, although leaving out the greater amount of sarcasm he had intended for. She barely flinched at his comment, and continued on in a great turmoil of happiness.
"That means I can't go to school, because I'm sick! So I get to spend the day with you!" she quipped instantly, and struck out to latch onto his arm.
"W-what? N-no, you can't! I-I've got classes to help Cloud with; you can't come! I'm just an intern, Yuffie; having you there could blow my whole internship!" he sputtered, clearly not happy about it. He tore his arm away from her, backing away slowly. "G-go stay at the apartment if you're sick!" Yuffie pushed her lips into a pout.
"But its so boooooring in the apartment, Squall! Please? Just this once? I'll leave at lunchtime if I'm such a pain, but I promise I won't be! You won't even notice I'm there!" The joy in her voice reverberated off of the restaurants and shops around them.
He groaned loudly and drew a hand down his face. "That's what they all say in the movies, and they end up getting into more trouble than one could imagine. Yuffie, please stay home?" However, he already knew the answer, and didn't wait to start going back up the street, Yuffie clinging to his arm like a four-year-old.
----~----
"'Won't even notice I'm there?'" Cloud mocked, looking at Squall with wide eyes. "Squall, this class has all sophomores in it! Don't you think that they'll notice a new student, and a younger one at that?"
"I know, I know, but she wouldn't leave me alone!" Squall moaned, stripping off his long coat and hanging it over the back of his cheap swivel chair. "Man, being an intern bites . . ." he muttered, testing out the limited amount of recline on the chair.
"What if she pukes during class? Or starts waving to your or something equally stupid? C'mon, Squall, get a grip!" Cloud slammed a fist on his mammoth desk, and Yuffie's head jerked up. She had been strolling along the lines of the tiny desks, elevated one row above each other, and now she grinned at the two men below.
"I can't . . . I can't just throw her outta here. C'mon, its only for a few hours; how bad could it possibly get, huh?" he begged, trying to get Cloud to see reason.
"For your sake, I hope you're right," the blonde muttered, groaning inwardly as the sounds of sophomores racing in the halls greeted his tired ears.
----~----
". . . You don't look so good," Yuffie said quietly, taking a seat opposite the irritated-and-sick-looking intern. He merely growled at her, not having the strength to let loose his safe-full of insults that he kept hidden away for just his reason. The morning had been a disaster, from Yuffie needing assistance in getting textbooks to the girls (or co-eds, as Squall and Cloud referred to them as) of the class giggling whenever he stood up to lecture them about something-or-other. Yuffie hadn't done anything really embarrassing, save maybe answer a question or two of his and then blush furiously; the other students had made it much, much worse. By the time class was over, he had wanted to throw up and kill all of them at the same time, and darted out to the nearest Starbucks in order to nab a mid-day latte.
"Yeah, well, you try being humiliated in front of your whole class and keep a cheery disposition," he said acidly, pushing the coffee away. His stomach hadn't agreed with it, and now all he wanted to do was curl up in the window seat and forget about the university -- and his crappy day.
"Sorry. I didn't think I was doing anything really wrong -" she began, but he cut her off with a firm shake of his head.
"No, sorry, that didn't come out right. I'm . . . not blaming it on you. The other students are just such adolescents, its hard to deal with sometimes. I . . . great. It's starting to snow," he muttered, gesturing vaguely towards the large, inviting windows. The sky had been prepping to open up all morning, and finally the clouds gave way and huge, spiraling snowflakes drifted lazily onto the busy Manhattan streets.
Yuffie was scrutinizing him intently, hands protectively covering her own stomach, which had been threatening to turn all morning. "I'm serious, Squall. You look sick or something," she tried, feeling that way herself. 'Should have stayed at the apartment,' she mused silently, turning her head away from the coffee that sat innocently on the edge of their miniscule, square table.
"And you don't?" he shot back, obviously irritable in the current state. Maybe a few days ago she would have spat something back as equally venomous, but right now she could tell that he was just being . . . well, Squall, for one matter - and a sick Squall had to be a LOT worse than a healthy one.
"Listen," she said after a minute, drawing her overcoat tighter around her, "I'm going back to the apartment before I puke all over you, okay? You look like you could use that as well, you know. Anyway, I'm calling Aerith when I get there, and my professors to tell them. Just . . . try not to get sick all over Cloud, you hear?" she told him sternly, and waited - about two minutes - for a nod before saluting him and exiting the coffee shop.
----~----
Uh-oh . . . Squall and Yuffie have a stomach virus, which means that there's gonna be the taking-care-of-each-other thingee. Anyone who knows me knows that I can't get by in a fic without having a sickfic bit, so I hope you don't mind. Its just another way to further improve their relationship.
Anyway, sorry for the late chapter. Today was the day The Two Towers came out, and since I usually do the chapters at night, last night I was watching anime up the wazoo (Inuyasha and Blue Gender, which ROCKS). Well, enjoy!