(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
My parents suck. All three of them, I swear. My mother is some slut-ho who lives with her boyfriend (who is twenty odd years older than her) my father does nothing but drool at the computer all day (occasionally at some less than wholesome stuff), and my step-evil has no respect for my privacy and my art (including my writings, which she deleted almost the entirety of). Controlling bastards.
. . . Ignore all that, I'm just venting. But my life sucks sometimes. Really.
Anyhoo, in case you didn't catch the minor bit of plot last chapter, Laguna is heading to Dollet today. This makes this . . . day number what of my fic? Hmm. I forget. I'll count later.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
Kiros was helping us carry luggage to the Apocalypse. I narrowed my eyes against the sunlight reflecting off Esthar's skyscrapers, and tucked a few messy wisps of hair behind my ears as I blinked against the sun. "I really do hope this trip is worth it," I said in a disapproving tone.
I hadn't been consulted on this, nor even told about it until this morning. Of course, I would have agreed to it as well, but it was the principle of the thing. I hadn't had a say in the events. I shouldn't have felt so disgruntled; after all, I was only the bodyguard, but things that shouldn't be, usually are. Laguna had found out only just yesterday as well.
He shifted my bag over to his other shoulder, adjusting the weight. I paused for Laguna as he caught up. "I CAN carry both bags, you know," he pointed out, reaching to take his suitcase as well.
I sniffed. My duffel bag didn't contain many changes of clothes, but was bursting to the seams with my various bath oils and hair care products. This made it considerably heavier than Laguna's, which most likely consisted of a few pants and shirts thrown in haphazardly. So, Laguna was carrying my bag, but in turn, I was carrying his.
I sped up out of his reach, looking back smugly. "Yes, I know, but I won't let you," I said lightly.
Laguna pouted, and I turned away, slightly confused. That pout did strange things to my stomach, for some reason.
Kiros made a noise under his breath, and Laguna tried to kick him in the shins without me noticing.
I coughed. I supposed that teasing him was alright if it felt comfortable . . . of course, later I'd feel the inherent wrongness of it, but for now it felt perfectly all right. "Laguna, if you truly wish to harm Kiros, by all means, do so." I looked back at the two men casually. "It's merely my job to make sure he doesn't hit back."
Laguna grinned happily and made a mock swing at Kiros. After a quick dodge, Kiros jogged up backwards, facing me, flinging his arms out wide. "Quistis, I'm hurt!" He clasped his hands dramatically over his heart. "Don't you love me?"
Laguna tripped.
I kept my face straight, but tapped my temple thoughtfully. "Hmm . . . let me think about that Kiros. . . no?" I raised an eyebrow lightly.
Kiros grinned, his eye twitching strangely. "No? You got me right here, Quistis." He staggered, pretending to have been stabbed. "What about Laguna? Everybody loves Laguna!"
I could hear Laguna swearing faintly under his breath as I blinked. Everybody loves Laguna indeed. "Well Laguna certainly is charismatic . . ." I mused. "And I certainly like him more than you."
Kiros staggered even more heavily, and collapsed. "Ooooh . . . you got me . . . the biting wit of Quistis Trepe strikes once more!"
Laguna aimed a not-so-light kick at Kiros while he was on the ground.
I sighed. Laguna must have at least said something to Kiros about me, and my . . . situation. And Kiros was doing a horrible job of keeping to it. Either that, or Kiros was just clueless and Laguna was being over protective.
I suspected the latter, but the former was equally probable . . . though, I did trust Laguna not to say anything too horribly incriminating. I did trust Laguna, period.
Laguna and I walked onto the ramp into Apocalypse. Kiros handed Laguna the bag he was carrying.
"Aren't you coming?" I queried.
"Nah." Kiros grinned, and suddenly turned serious. "I get the job of keeping the country together in the rare moments of Laguna's absence." Sniffing with a look of great self sacrifice, he pouted. "But nobody LISTENS to me, and can't do anything fun."
" . . . Fun?"
"You know, bomb people and stuff. Both 'people' and 'stuff' being Galbadia." Kiros smiled. "Eh, more's the pity."
I frowned. What had happened that I'd missed to make Laguna, Kiros and Ward dislike Galbadia so much? They had been loyal to the country at one point; after all, they had been in its military. I couldn't help but wonder, but I didn't think I should ask.
Laguna took the bag before I could take it in his place. Laguna grinnd at me. "Hey, I gotta be the gentleman somehow." He leaned closer in, whispering, "It appeals to old people."
Kiros snorted. "It appeals to all women in general. You wouldn't believe some of the letters he's gotten-"
My back was turned to Laguna, but I did hear a small sound of protest as Kiros continued. "There was this one lady . . . well it might have been a guy too, actually, it was anonymous . . . OK, so there was this one person who wrote something to the effect of, and I quote, wanting Laguna's Laguna's 'hot, tight body.'"
I gaped, and Kiros ignored me, frowning. "That 'tight' part makes me think it was a guy, but Laguna doesn't swing that way, so the poor man doesn't really stand a chance. . ."
Horrible mental images. I shuddered, and as Laguna took retribution upon his best friend, I didn't make a single move to stop him. Served the man right for making me think of Laguna in such a connotation.
Laguna hissed at Kiros, and Kiros, who was obviously used to such behavior, merely grinned and started to say something else. I turned away, my vocabulary failing me as I sought to come up with the proper word to voice my thoughts.
I eventually settled on " . . .Ew."
Laguna followed me onto the Apocalypse, ignoring the waving Kiros. I gave him a small wave back before turning a corner out of view. I let Laguna lead at this point. After all, it was his ship.
"Ignore Kiros . . ." Laguna jogged up to me. "He's just . . . well . . . he's Kiros."
I looked up crookedly. "I have half a mind to go back and . . ." I thought about it. " . . . do something about him. I have no earthly idea what I'd do, though."
"Eh, you'd think of something," Laguna said confidently.
He turned his head sharply to the right. "I gotta go activate the autopilot. The passenger cabin is right there, be back in a sec."
I opened my mouth to complain that he shouldn't go anywhere without me or Kiros present - in this case, me - but he was already gone. I found my mouth in a peculiar twitch once more - but this time I didn't need a mirror to figure it out. I was frowning.
I walked briskly in the cabin. I was identical to the Ragnarok's, and I could see Kiros and Ward talking through the large viewing window. I took a seat near the back and settled the bag that I was carrying near my ankles. The ship lurched eerily, and I tilted my head in the perceived direction of the cockpit.
Kiros, still visible out the window, looked up fearfully. This, obviously, was not a good sign.
I really hoped that Laguna knew what he was doing.
Sighing gently, my trust - which was in this event undoubtedly misplaced - forced me to remain seated. But it didn't stop me, however, from buckling my seatbelt and firmly grasping the armrests at my sides.
The Apocalypse rose liltingly, jerking, and I heard a loud painful scraping jarring the wall the my left. I winced as the scraping continued, echoing even in the carpeted cabins. The ship jerked back right, and I could practically discern the exact moment the auto-pilot kicked in.
The Apocalypse righted itself, and rose cautiously, as if to admonish its careless pilot. I released a breath that, though I had been aware I was holding it, had been loathe to let go. I steady my hand briefly against my pounding chest as I stood once more.
How had Laguna managed to sneak out that once if he was that horrible a pilot? I doubted that the Apocalypse had an autopilot course to Edea's old orphanage . . . or perhaps with Squall in mind, he did. I shook my head, deliberating to ask later, if at all possible.
Laguna certainly was an enigma. He had more than one story to tell, more than enough for however many rainy days might lie in his future. His life was one of the few in the world that mattered, that still mattered, his name was one that would be remembered.
Yet, this wasn't what drew people to his side. Not his fame, but LAGUNA. Laguna drew people to himself no matter what. He was gentle, clueless, and generally a hassle to look after, but when it came down to it, he could protect - and lead - with ease. Kiros and Ward had known this from the start, and followed him.
I shook my head. When it came down to it, Laguna's story was intertwined with so many others, it was difficult to see if it would ever truly end. I did want to hear Laguna's stories.
And who knew? Perhaps I might be there to hear him tell them. He is an excellent writer; his storytelling skills might be comparable.
I was going to Dollet, with a venerable horde of assassins after my friend, and only me to guard him. I was sitting lone, with silence and the hum of engines as my only companions. Yet the world seemed brighter than it had just a second ago.
I smiled. I might never know exactly why I was so content, sitting there alone on the Apocalypse, with nothing but a dubious future looming ahead. But the point of the matter was, I was smiling.
And I was happy.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I walked towards the cabin guiltily. I mean, I'm not great with machinery, what can I say? I'd probably done another number on the paint job that Kiros would yell at me at. Or rather, since Ward was the one who handled the money issues, Kiros would yell at me on Ward's behalf.
I froze at the doorway, wondering if I should hide from Quistis' wrath while I still had the chance. I mean, I'd seen her when she was ticked off at me, and when she went into her own cold brand of battle fury, I hadn't really seen Quistis really, truly mad before, and I had a feeling that I didn't ever want to.
I peered around the doorway. Quistis was sitting sideways on an aisle chair, her profile facing me. I blinked.
Even as I watched, her serious expression faded.
Quistis thought she was alone, didn't she? I probably shouldn't be watching her like this; she might think I was stalking her or something. Of course, stalking ME was HER job description. . . eh.
She was smiling.
Did she smile like that all the time when she was alone? Smile like nothing brought her down, like she didn't care what others said, just as long as she could smile just a bit longer? She needed to smile more often, in my opinion.
DAMN it made her look good. I should be spouting Shakespeare at this point or something, but my mind was cooperating. I could remember some bits of Macbeth, actually, but I never did like that play. Crappy ending, if you ask me. And too damn depressing.
Okay, completely off track now . . . Quistis was smiling, I was watching. Okay. Now why was I watching?
Because . . .
. . . don't know, really . . .
Dang. I let out a silent sigh and turned to leave. I mean, if there was no reason to watch, why should I?
. . . Because you want to.
Well, yeah, I want to do a lot of stuff. Nuke Galbadia, sprout wings . . . But I couldn't do any of that because they were either physically impossible or hampered by responsibility. Duty. Gravity. Crap like that.
I needed some down time. I strolled the length of the Apocalypse, yawning. Shouldn't have woken up early.
Hungry, too. I frowned. I'd had a donut for breakfast. One donut. One. And being stubborn, I'd ignored Ward when he'd shoved the rest of the plate at me. Donuts . . . donuts would be good . . . I took out a stick of gum to ease the gnawing in my stomach.
I chewed my gum thoughtfully. Things around here had gone to the dogs. A week ago today, I'd been complaining to Kiros that I was bored.
Now, I was on a spaceship heading to a country halfway around the world to make a deal that would stall the price put on my head by Galbadia, and meanwhile dozens of assassins were after me and I was being protected by a sexy, mysterious blonde whose only tie to me was that I'd saved her life. More then once, actually.
Well, I'd definitely gotten the excitement I wanted.
Even though, I was still hungry.
I frowned, then brightened. I had planned for a moment such as this! Actually, I'd planned for if Kiros had decided to put me on a diet again . . . I shuddered at the experience, even though it had been years ago. I hadn't NEEDED the diet, my metabolism is cool like that. But, Kiros had mentioned something like 'health' and 'blood pressure'. Ick.
Anyway, I had a box of Twinkies down in the cargo bay. They'd probably been there a few years, but Twinkies last forever anyway. Heh heh.
I whistled loudly, hoping there weren't any cameras in the cargo bay. I looked up. There was. I grinned at it, waving, as its programming tried to determine if a wave was a threatening gesture.
It never stood a chance. I pinned it right in the center of the lens with a big wad of chewing gum. Take that, stupid security systems! Even Estharian technology is no match for Laguna Loire! Ha ha!
I rummaged in some discreet boxes, and grinned as my questing hand found the box. I pulled it out, and grabbed one.
And spat it back out. Argh. Okay, so maybe Twinkies don't last forever.
. . .
. . . blip blip blip . . .
I looked up. What?
. . .
. . .
What was that? I stood up slowly.
. . . blip . . .
There! What was that? I scowled. Sounded electronic.
. . .
No. No way. The Apocalypse has like, a million bomb detectors. Nothing explosive got within ten feet of the apocalypse without a million sirens going off. Probably just the camera making a fuss about being disabled or crap like that.
. . . blip . . .
The sound was a lot louder here. Softer here . . . louder . . . louder . . . here? Here!
It was . . . a suitcase. A plain black one. Sheez, how stereotypical did you get? Instinct told me not to move it, so I crouched down and put my ear to it.
.blip blip blip blip blip
Yup, this was it. But like I said, it really couldn't possibly be a bomb.
. . . was it just me, or were those 'blip's getting . . . faster?
.blip blip blip blip blip blip blip blip
. . .
CRAP!
"Quistis . . ." I whispered, backing away slowly. Hyne, no . . . "QUISTIS!"
I ran. I ran as fast as I could force myself to, the air in my lungs seeming to turn to ice and fire at the same time. I didn't blink, I didn't stop, I didn't hear and barely saw.
I couldn't explain the next few minutes in detail if I tried.
I'm not sure where I got the parachutes from - so the incessant safety drills were good for something after all - but I had two in one hand and, eventually, Quistis in the other.
She didn't struggle; she seemed to read my face and grabbed a parachute for herself. I dragged her by the wrist across the Apocalypse rambling about damn bombs and damn Galbadia and why the heck couldn't a guy enjoy a Twinkie without his life being threatened? It wasn't even that good of a Twinkie!
She said something about calming down and not knowing how to parachute, and I said "All you do is count to ten and pull the red cord" and promptly shoved her out the ship.
I followed.
And the only thing that followed me was a shrieking of shredded steel and iron and whatever else the once proud Apocalypse was made of.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I meant it to be longer, really, I did. Sorry. But I decided that what I planned for this chapter HAD to be chapter 16 because Laguna's POV ended up ten pages long. WAY too long. . .
Oh, dear. I really am sorry about this chapter. But the story is rated PG -13 and I decided to take advantage of it . . . Hence, the implications Kiros said . . and the Twinkies. I should have removed them, but SOMEBODY thought it was, ahem, 'too damn funny' to take out. You know who you are. I blame you completely.
ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS is amazing for a first story. I've looked around. And for a rare coupling? I don't know about you, but honestly, I don't know what to think. Maybe I have - GASP - TALENT. Could it be?
I enjoy rare couplings. My favorite story list is packed with them. . . I remember saying that I disliked plugs. And I do, but I know of a few well - written and VERY unappreciated fanfiction. Hypocrite that I am, here are a few of the best Final Fantasy VIII gems:
'The Lion and the Lamb' by Zenpheonixa - Squall/Selphie - VERY rare coupling. I'm tempted to write one, if only to get Squall away from Rinoa. This is only part one, and I eagerly await portion two.
'Faded Memories' by Sorceress Fujin - Laguna/Quistis - Yes! Laguna and Quistis! Inspired by If My Heart Weren't Broken, it's just starting out, and is written far better than my fic . . . sniff . . . the amazingness of Fujin's style never ceases to shock me.
'Hey! I Could Be A Messenger From Hyne, Ya Know!' by tigerofthewind - Selphie/Seifer - Funny stuff, right here. Humorous and creative, I might write one of these as well. However, this story has been on hiatus for a time now, so don't expect a new installment anytime soon (Damn you, tigerofthewind!).
My parents suck. All three of them, I swear. My mother is some slut-ho who lives with her boyfriend (who is twenty odd years older than her) my father does nothing but drool at the computer all day (occasionally at some less than wholesome stuff), and my step-evil has no respect for my privacy and my art (including my writings, which she deleted almost the entirety of). Controlling bastards.
. . . Ignore all that, I'm just venting. But my life sucks sometimes. Really.
Anyhoo, in case you didn't catch the minor bit of plot last chapter, Laguna is heading to Dollet today. This makes this . . . day number what of my fic? Hmm. I forget. I'll count later.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
Kiros was helping us carry luggage to the Apocalypse. I narrowed my eyes against the sunlight reflecting off Esthar's skyscrapers, and tucked a few messy wisps of hair behind my ears as I blinked against the sun. "I really do hope this trip is worth it," I said in a disapproving tone.
I hadn't been consulted on this, nor even told about it until this morning. Of course, I would have agreed to it as well, but it was the principle of the thing. I hadn't had a say in the events. I shouldn't have felt so disgruntled; after all, I was only the bodyguard, but things that shouldn't be, usually are. Laguna had found out only just yesterday as well.
He shifted my bag over to his other shoulder, adjusting the weight. I paused for Laguna as he caught up. "I CAN carry both bags, you know," he pointed out, reaching to take his suitcase as well.
I sniffed. My duffel bag didn't contain many changes of clothes, but was bursting to the seams with my various bath oils and hair care products. This made it considerably heavier than Laguna's, which most likely consisted of a few pants and shirts thrown in haphazardly. So, Laguna was carrying my bag, but in turn, I was carrying his.
I sped up out of his reach, looking back smugly. "Yes, I know, but I won't let you," I said lightly.
Laguna pouted, and I turned away, slightly confused. That pout did strange things to my stomach, for some reason.
Kiros made a noise under his breath, and Laguna tried to kick him in the shins without me noticing.
I coughed. I supposed that teasing him was alright if it felt comfortable . . . of course, later I'd feel the inherent wrongness of it, but for now it felt perfectly all right. "Laguna, if you truly wish to harm Kiros, by all means, do so." I looked back at the two men casually. "It's merely my job to make sure he doesn't hit back."
Laguna grinned happily and made a mock swing at Kiros. After a quick dodge, Kiros jogged up backwards, facing me, flinging his arms out wide. "Quistis, I'm hurt!" He clasped his hands dramatically over his heart. "Don't you love me?"
Laguna tripped.
I kept my face straight, but tapped my temple thoughtfully. "Hmm . . . let me think about that Kiros. . . no?" I raised an eyebrow lightly.
Kiros grinned, his eye twitching strangely. "No? You got me right here, Quistis." He staggered, pretending to have been stabbed. "What about Laguna? Everybody loves Laguna!"
I could hear Laguna swearing faintly under his breath as I blinked. Everybody loves Laguna indeed. "Well Laguna certainly is charismatic . . ." I mused. "And I certainly like him more than you."
Kiros staggered even more heavily, and collapsed. "Ooooh . . . you got me . . . the biting wit of Quistis Trepe strikes once more!"
Laguna aimed a not-so-light kick at Kiros while he was on the ground.
I sighed. Laguna must have at least said something to Kiros about me, and my . . . situation. And Kiros was doing a horrible job of keeping to it. Either that, or Kiros was just clueless and Laguna was being over protective.
I suspected the latter, but the former was equally probable . . . though, I did trust Laguna not to say anything too horribly incriminating. I did trust Laguna, period.
Laguna and I walked onto the ramp into Apocalypse. Kiros handed Laguna the bag he was carrying.
"Aren't you coming?" I queried.
"Nah." Kiros grinned, and suddenly turned serious. "I get the job of keeping the country together in the rare moments of Laguna's absence." Sniffing with a look of great self sacrifice, he pouted. "But nobody LISTENS to me, and can't do anything fun."
" . . . Fun?"
"You know, bomb people and stuff. Both 'people' and 'stuff' being Galbadia." Kiros smiled. "Eh, more's the pity."
I frowned. What had happened that I'd missed to make Laguna, Kiros and Ward dislike Galbadia so much? They had been loyal to the country at one point; after all, they had been in its military. I couldn't help but wonder, but I didn't think I should ask.
Laguna took the bag before I could take it in his place. Laguna grinnd at me. "Hey, I gotta be the gentleman somehow." He leaned closer in, whispering, "It appeals to old people."
Kiros snorted. "It appeals to all women in general. You wouldn't believe some of the letters he's gotten-"
My back was turned to Laguna, but I did hear a small sound of protest as Kiros continued. "There was this one lady . . . well it might have been a guy too, actually, it was anonymous . . . OK, so there was this one person who wrote something to the effect of, and I quote, wanting Laguna's Laguna's 'hot, tight body.'"
I gaped, and Kiros ignored me, frowning. "That 'tight' part makes me think it was a guy, but Laguna doesn't swing that way, so the poor man doesn't really stand a chance. . ."
Horrible mental images. I shuddered, and as Laguna took retribution upon his best friend, I didn't make a single move to stop him. Served the man right for making me think of Laguna in such a connotation.
Laguna hissed at Kiros, and Kiros, who was obviously used to such behavior, merely grinned and started to say something else. I turned away, my vocabulary failing me as I sought to come up with the proper word to voice my thoughts.
I eventually settled on " . . .Ew."
Laguna followed me onto the Apocalypse, ignoring the waving Kiros. I gave him a small wave back before turning a corner out of view. I let Laguna lead at this point. After all, it was his ship.
"Ignore Kiros . . ." Laguna jogged up to me. "He's just . . . well . . . he's Kiros."
I looked up crookedly. "I have half a mind to go back and . . ." I thought about it. " . . . do something about him. I have no earthly idea what I'd do, though."
"Eh, you'd think of something," Laguna said confidently.
He turned his head sharply to the right. "I gotta go activate the autopilot. The passenger cabin is right there, be back in a sec."
I opened my mouth to complain that he shouldn't go anywhere without me or Kiros present - in this case, me - but he was already gone. I found my mouth in a peculiar twitch once more - but this time I didn't need a mirror to figure it out. I was frowning.
I walked briskly in the cabin. I was identical to the Ragnarok's, and I could see Kiros and Ward talking through the large viewing window. I took a seat near the back and settled the bag that I was carrying near my ankles. The ship lurched eerily, and I tilted my head in the perceived direction of the cockpit.
Kiros, still visible out the window, looked up fearfully. This, obviously, was not a good sign.
I really hoped that Laguna knew what he was doing.
Sighing gently, my trust - which was in this event undoubtedly misplaced - forced me to remain seated. But it didn't stop me, however, from buckling my seatbelt and firmly grasping the armrests at my sides.
The Apocalypse rose liltingly, jerking, and I heard a loud painful scraping jarring the wall the my left. I winced as the scraping continued, echoing even in the carpeted cabins. The ship jerked back right, and I could practically discern the exact moment the auto-pilot kicked in.
The Apocalypse righted itself, and rose cautiously, as if to admonish its careless pilot. I released a breath that, though I had been aware I was holding it, had been loathe to let go. I steady my hand briefly against my pounding chest as I stood once more.
How had Laguna managed to sneak out that once if he was that horrible a pilot? I doubted that the Apocalypse had an autopilot course to Edea's old orphanage . . . or perhaps with Squall in mind, he did. I shook my head, deliberating to ask later, if at all possible.
Laguna certainly was an enigma. He had more than one story to tell, more than enough for however many rainy days might lie in his future. His life was one of the few in the world that mattered, that still mattered, his name was one that would be remembered.
Yet, this wasn't what drew people to his side. Not his fame, but LAGUNA. Laguna drew people to himself no matter what. He was gentle, clueless, and generally a hassle to look after, but when it came down to it, he could protect - and lead - with ease. Kiros and Ward had known this from the start, and followed him.
I shook my head. When it came down to it, Laguna's story was intertwined with so many others, it was difficult to see if it would ever truly end. I did want to hear Laguna's stories.
And who knew? Perhaps I might be there to hear him tell them. He is an excellent writer; his storytelling skills might be comparable.
I was going to Dollet, with a venerable horde of assassins after my friend, and only me to guard him. I was sitting lone, with silence and the hum of engines as my only companions. Yet the world seemed brighter than it had just a second ago.
I smiled. I might never know exactly why I was so content, sitting there alone on the Apocalypse, with nothing but a dubious future looming ahead. But the point of the matter was, I was smiling.
And I was happy.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I walked towards the cabin guiltily. I mean, I'm not great with machinery, what can I say? I'd probably done another number on the paint job that Kiros would yell at me at. Or rather, since Ward was the one who handled the money issues, Kiros would yell at me on Ward's behalf.
I froze at the doorway, wondering if I should hide from Quistis' wrath while I still had the chance. I mean, I'd seen her when she was ticked off at me, and when she went into her own cold brand of battle fury, I hadn't really seen Quistis really, truly mad before, and I had a feeling that I didn't ever want to.
I peered around the doorway. Quistis was sitting sideways on an aisle chair, her profile facing me. I blinked.
Even as I watched, her serious expression faded.
Quistis thought she was alone, didn't she? I probably shouldn't be watching her like this; she might think I was stalking her or something. Of course, stalking ME was HER job description. . . eh.
She was smiling.
Did she smile like that all the time when she was alone? Smile like nothing brought her down, like she didn't care what others said, just as long as she could smile just a bit longer? She needed to smile more often, in my opinion.
DAMN it made her look good. I should be spouting Shakespeare at this point or something, but my mind was cooperating. I could remember some bits of Macbeth, actually, but I never did like that play. Crappy ending, if you ask me. And too damn depressing.
Okay, completely off track now . . . Quistis was smiling, I was watching. Okay. Now why was I watching?
Because . . .
. . . don't know, really . . .
Dang. I let out a silent sigh and turned to leave. I mean, if there was no reason to watch, why should I?
. . . Because you want to.
Well, yeah, I want to do a lot of stuff. Nuke Galbadia, sprout wings . . . But I couldn't do any of that because they were either physically impossible or hampered by responsibility. Duty. Gravity. Crap like that.
I needed some down time. I strolled the length of the Apocalypse, yawning. Shouldn't have woken up early.
Hungry, too. I frowned. I'd had a donut for breakfast. One donut. One. And being stubborn, I'd ignored Ward when he'd shoved the rest of the plate at me. Donuts . . . donuts would be good . . . I took out a stick of gum to ease the gnawing in my stomach.
I chewed my gum thoughtfully. Things around here had gone to the dogs. A week ago today, I'd been complaining to Kiros that I was bored.
Now, I was on a spaceship heading to a country halfway around the world to make a deal that would stall the price put on my head by Galbadia, and meanwhile dozens of assassins were after me and I was being protected by a sexy, mysterious blonde whose only tie to me was that I'd saved her life. More then once, actually.
Well, I'd definitely gotten the excitement I wanted.
Even though, I was still hungry.
I frowned, then brightened. I had planned for a moment such as this! Actually, I'd planned for if Kiros had decided to put me on a diet again . . . I shuddered at the experience, even though it had been years ago. I hadn't NEEDED the diet, my metabolism is cool like that. But, Kiros had mentioned something like 'health' and 'blood pressure'. Ick.
Anyway, I had a box of Twinkies down in the cargo bay. They'd probably been there a few years, but Twinkies last forever anyway. Heh heh.
I whistled loudly, hoping there weren't any cameras in the cargo bay. I looked up. There was. I grinned at it, waving, as its programming tried to determine if a wave was a threatening gesture.
It never stood a chance. I pinned it right in the center of the lens with a big wad of chewing gum. Take that, stupid security systems! Even Estharian technology is no match for Laguna Loire! Ha ha!
I rummaged in some discreet boxes, and grinned as my questing hand found the box. I pulled it out, and grabbed one.
And spat it back out. Argh. Okay, so maybe Twinkies don't last forever.
. . .
. . . blip blip blip . . .
I looked up. What?
. . .
. . .
What was that? I stood up slowly.
. . . blip . . .
There! What was that? I scowled. Sounded electronic.
. . .
No. No way. The Apocalypse has like, a million bomb detectors. Nothing explosive got within ten feet of the apocalypse without a million sirens going off. Probably just the camera making a fuss about being disabled or crap like that.
. . . blip . . .
The sound was a lot louder here. Softer here . . . louder . . . louder . . . here? Here!
It was . . . a suitcase. A plain black one. Sheez, how stereotypical did you get? Instinct told me not to move it, so I crouched down and put my ear to it.
.blip blip blip blip blip
Yup, this was it. But like I said, it really couldn't possibly be a bomb.
. . . was it just me, or were those 'blip's getting . . . faster?
.blip blip blip blip blip blip blip blip
. . .
CRAP!
"Quistis . . ." I whispered, backing away slowly. Hyne, no . . . "QUISTIS!"
I ran. I ran as fast as I could force myself to, the air in my lungs seeming to turn to ice and fire at the same time. I didn't blink, I didn't stop, I didn't hear and barely saw.
I couldn't explain the next few minutes in detail if I tried.
I'm not sure where I got the parachutes from - so the incessant safety drills were good for something after all - but I had two in one hand and, eventually, Quistis in the other.
She didn't struggle; she seemed to read my face and grabbed a parachute for herself. I dragged her by the wrist across the Apocalypse rambling about damn bombs and damn Galbadia and why the heck couldn't a guy enjoy a Twinkie without his life being threatened? It wasn't even that good of a Twinkie!
She said something about calming down and not knowing how to parachute, and I said "All you do is count to ten and pull the red cord" and promptly shoved her out the ship.
I followed.
And the only thing that followed me was a shrieking of shredded steel and iron and whatever else the once proud Apocalypse was made of.
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)
I meant it to be longer, really, I did. Sorry. But I decided that what I planned for this chapter HAD to be chapter 16 because Laguna's POV ended up ten pages long. WAY too long. . .
Oh, dear. I really am sorry about this chapter. But the story is rated PG -13 and I decided to take advantage of it . . . Hence, the implications Kiros said . . and the Twinkies. I should have removed them, but SOMEBODY thought it was, ahem, 'too damn funny' to take out. You know who you are. I blame you completely.
ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS is amazing for a first story. I've looked around. And for a rare coupling? I don't know about you, but honestly, I don't know what to think. Maybe I have - GASP - TALENT. Could it be?
I enjoy rare couplings. My favorite story list is packed with them. . . I remember saying that I disliked plugs. And I do, but I know of a few well - written and VERY unappreciated fanfiction. Hypocrite that I am, here are a few of the best Final Fantasy VIII gems:
'The Lion and the Lamb' by Zenpheonixa - Squall/Selphie - VERY rare coupling. I'm tempted to write one, if only to get Squall away from Rinoa. This is only part one, and I eagerly await portion two.
'Faded Memories' by Sorceress Fujin - Laguna/Quistis - Yes! Laguna and Quistis! Inspired by If My Heart Weren't Broken, it's just starting out, and is written far better than my fic . . . sniff . . . the amazingness of Fujin's style never ceases to shock me.
'Hey! I Could Be A Messenger From Hyne, Ya Know!' by tigerofthewind - Selphie/Seifer - Funny stuff, right here. Humorous and creative, I might write one of these as well. However, this story has been on hiatus for a time now, so don't expect a new installment anytime soon (Damn you, tigerofthewind!).