Asthenia
They had agreed to meet in a quiet little bistro. It was a classy little restaurant on one of the main avenues of Deling. She sat at a round table on the mezzanine floor, away from the picture windows in the front of the stylish, comely place. Waiters in dark suits wandered with cabarets, bringing orders to the customers.
Rinoa had taken an especially long time in getting dressed to meet him and yet she still arrived before him. After hours of rummaging through her closet, she had chosen a short khaki skirt with a beige sweater. This was supposed to be simple and she didn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing she was trying to impress him, though she made sure to apply a smooth layer of 'sexy', so he would not think she was slowly passing her prime. Normally, twenty-five year olds wouldn't worry about such trivial matters unless they were trying to hook a young man to their heels, which was precisely what Rinoa Heartilly had in mind.
Her legs were crossed in case of prying eyes and she sat stiffly in her chair, scared as hell of everything that might happen within the next fifteen minutes. Rinoa fiddled with the edge of her napkin nervously anticipating the moment he'd walk through that door. The door that she had been staring at for the past ten minutes with unrelenting concentration.
Rinoa was boiling with anger and had an entire little speech lined up for her ex-boyfriend however, at the same time there was this untamable urge to run into the women's bathroom and hide in a stall, an unimaginable fear that settled deeply in the pit of her stomach and deregulated her system.
Rinoa pulled her gaze away from the entrance of the restaurant; it was only making her more edgy. She picked up the wine menu from the corner of the table and read through it as if it was of sudden interest to her. Her eyes ran across the different years, the different wineries, the different names of the beverages, all written in floury font on the thick, creamy paper.
"Hey." A rough, deep voice greeted and she was suddenly aware of a figure slinking into the chair in front of her. The realization that he was here sent a wave of shock sprinting through her body. Her head jerked up and when her cocoa eyes met his sapphire ones she knew this would be the end of her. There would be no way she would survive this meeting.
Rinoa closed the menu a little too quickly and shoved it aside. "Hello." She answered stiffly, unable to break her gaze from his. 'Ooh, nice, Rinoa, real smooth! Don't I feel like a million bucks now! I must look like a deer caught in the headlights. No, rephrase that, a deer caught in the headlights after smoking some good grass.'A waiter passed by, "Are you ready to order anything? Or do you need more time to look at the menu?"
Rinoa thanked the gods there was something else to look at, "Could I get a glass of water please?" The waiter nodded and looked to Squall who only shrugged and dismissed the server with a shake of his head. "I'll be back in just a minute."
Instead of looking back at her old lover, Rinoa decided that the tablecloth was a much safer choice. She could feel his eyes on her. He was here, he was real and if she wanted, she could reach out and touch him, though she doubted if he would like that very much. Her curious eyes wandered back to him, his rough knuckles that were resting on the table, his strong arms connecting to his broad shoulders, his strong chin, baby smooth cheeks, his lips. A sudden force of attraction whirled through her suddenly, 'Oh no … God, not now.' His scar running down his nose, accentuating up to his crystal blue eyes that were staring right into her own, 'Oh God, is he ever sexy.' She let out a small gasp.
"What the hell is going through your mind?" He asked snappishly. It had begun to creep him out. Her silence was awkward, and her staring made him very uncomfortable though he couldn't really say anything against. His eyes had been fixed on her as well.
Paranoia settled in. Could he read thoughts or something? Had she heard a tone of disgust at the edge of his voice, or was it really a genuine question? She would take a chance, a bubbling anger tearing the words from her throat, "What's going through my mind? Well, I was just thinking about grinding my heel right in your crotch so hard you'd sound like a fat, pregnant cow for the rest of your living days!" The words were forced through clenched teeth, but resonated very clearly.
And he had the nerve to smile though she found nothing funny in all of this, "You had the freaking balls to go into the account and retrieve every single penny! Thank the gods Irvine found out before me and that it was only a twelve dollar lunch because had this hit me after one of my shopping sprees, I'd probably wading in deeper shit than I am now. Thanks to your half-wit scheme, I've had to cancel all my imports, thus retarding my profits by several months! Thank you, asshole!"
She took a deep breath, fires of Mars burning in her eyes, "But that wasn't enough of a thrill for you, ruining my entire business I mean. What else did you do, Squall? Because I can see from that damn glint in your eyes that you've still got much to tell me. But first, please tell me … WHY would you do such a thing?!" She realized by the end of her final sentence that she was practically on the verge of despair and tears.
A few faces turned towards her in the restaurant but quickly returned to their affairs. Squall shrugged and cleared his throat, "Well, you're right, that's not all I did." He admitted nonchalantly, "I spent $50,000 from the eleven million and placed a bet on eBay. If I remember correctly, it was for a nineteen-year-old girl's virginity. It was the most interesting thing I could find … it's amazing what you can come across on eBay."
"You did what?" She looked at him blankly in total disbelief, "Ok, no, stop! I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Rinoa closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, "So why is it that you're doing this? Quickly, I don't have that much time to waste." She was debating whether she should punch him in the face or yank him out of the chair and drag him to a hotel or her apartment (whichever was closer) to jump into his pants.
"I got your attention, didn't I?" He asked the rhetorical question passively and paused as the waiter deposited Rinoa's glass of water. She murmured a quick 'thank you' and began drinking as if she had been wandering the desert for weeks. Watching her go, he seemed amazed at how much fluids she was downing. Squall decided to ignore it for now, and find out more later, "I think I deserve answers … you've left me, plagued with thousands of little annoying questions, Rinoa and I shouldn't have to jump through hoops like this for them to be answered."
"Bite me!" She snapped, setting down her half-empty glass of water, "I've always wondered the meaning of life, doesn't mean God's going to strut down into Deling anytime soon to explain it to me! I don't know of the little questions swarming in your little head and frankly, I don't see why I'm the one who has to answer them." Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming sense of relief, a feeling that maybe nothing had changed at all. They were still the same. She was vehemently speaking, venting to him just like in the old days, when torrents of wild moods enveloped her.
He gawked at her incredulously. Rinoa Heartilly was still as feisty as ever, despite her obvious discomfort to his presence. Her features were still those of a goddess, her fine porcelain skin was flawless, her lashes were long and her cocoa eyes withheld the deepest secrets of the dingy streets and of the golden palaces. Her silken, raven hair curved around the edges of her face, falling to her shoulders and her lips … were just as desirable as ever, even more so.
Squall felt his body weaken, his tongue felt flimsy and without strength in his mouth. His fists relaxed and his legs turned mushy so he couldn't escape even if he tried, and God knew he wouldn't. "You're the one who has to answer them, because you're the only one who can." He said the words slowly, his eyes feasting on her, making up for what he couldn't touch right now. He was being submerged in beauty, this was simply too magnificent.
Her attitude changed suddenly, a sly smirk appeared on her face as if she had screwed her courage to the sticking spot. She knew how to negotiate with him, in the end, she had always known, "Interviews are a difficult thing to accord, baby, especially to evil little pricks who screw around with bank accounts. However, I've found a way you can perhaps make it up to me. For one you could … remove your bid on the young girl's virginity and give the money back to whom it belongs, that which is me. Second of all, I've got some business to take care of in a forbidden section of city … you could be the transmitter. Then, I'll answer all the little questions that infect that little male brain of yours. Do we have a deal?" Her pitch had something sensual about it, enticingly inviting, no matter if he would gain or lose.
But Squall would not crumble so easily, "No, that's bullshit, sweetheart, and you know it. Interviews are difficult to accord because of that mule that you call a secretary. You practically need to give her your social insurance number for her to jot you down in that precious agenda of yours. However, if we drive to that office of yours, and I force your hand to write me up an appointment as a favor for giving you my portion of the stolen money from that Estharian bank, some time ago after you shot me in the shoulder, then I wouldn't have to be your little transmitter and you could just be screwed."
"No, see … I don't like that idea. Anyway, I gave you back the money I owed you." Rinoa replied casually, taking another controlled sip of her water, "I like my plan better." Against her better judgment, she began to gulp without signs of moderation.
He simply stared and then commented harshly, "The way you're lapping that up now, you'll be pissing a river later."Though the comment was provoking at first, she found it hard not to laugh, "How is that your problem? I'm thirsty. When we were together, I never told you that you'd eventually sprain your elbow by jacking off constantly."
"I didn't sprain my elbow that way, damn it!" He debated heatedly and then managed to pool his cool together again, "I didn't jack off, Rin, I had you." The remark was meant to sting, if only for a short while. It was a quick cigarette ember burning into her palm to test her endurance, or simply to bully her onto a lower pedestal.
"Oh, nice shot in the heart, there." The arrow had plunged deeply into its target, and she felt no shame in admitting it, though he had shame in saying it, "I think we're wandering on a rather sensitive territory riddled with mines. Would you mind stepping off the private property?" She rather he think her embarrassed of the subject, rather than discover the deepest desires he had been stimulating for that past fifteen minutes.
Somehow, he wished he could have taken that comment back. She had never been a mere sex toy for him, and he felt guilty in indulging in lies to come back with some witty comeback, though she had begun this deluded battle, he had been the provocateur. He had trapped the lioness in the corner and forced her to use immature tactics.
Since his silence unnerved her, she decided to take the conversation at hand, "I'm not bullshitting you. You do what I told you, and I'll answer your questions. Whatever they may be, though I can predict their stupidity just by this conversation we're having. Remove the bid, give the money back to me, give Viktor Lynch my card and I'll get back to you."
Squall laughed snidely, "What makes you think that Viktor Lynch would want to have anything to do with you? He didn't like you a while ago; I don't think you've given him time to change his mind. And it seems that the number of task appropriated isn't very even.""I'll take care of my own business with Viktor Lynch, it doesn't concern you … at all, just do as I say. And the tasks? I think I have the right to distribute the chores of the deal. If you really want those answers, Squally, you will have to jump through hoops for them." She got up from her chair with the same elegance that she had always possessed, a gift from her mother.
He watched her rise, in her sublimely superior beauty, and couldn't bite back the words that instantly fell off his tongue, "I told you that you'd need to piss sooner or later."
She rolled her eyes, picked up her purse and looked down upon him, "I'm not going to the bathroom, Squall … I'm going home. Bye.""Yeah … I'll, uh … see you around." He called after her, knowing she wouldn't turn around to look at him.
To his surprise, she replied, "Do me a favor, don't bet your ass on it."Squall watched her figure strode out of the bistro, and towards the silver Porsche parked near the sidewalk. "She is by far the most incredible girl I've ever met." He whispered to himself, without a trace of denial, and shook his head in amusement.
An enrapturing feeling of accomplishment twisted his gut teasingly. She had not changed and when that fact was brought onto his attention, he knew he was closer to uncovering the truth on his own and he was better able to get her out of this troubling hole she had dug for herself.
Her feisty attitude had never calmed. Even when they were together, they had occasional rows, all of which Rinoa had emerged victorious with either her silent treatments or her never-ending arguments that ended up pissing him off and declaring forfeit.
Squall would snap back something that clamed her mouth shut, and she would come back hours later (sometimes even in the middle of the night) with a totally random comeback. "Ok, fine, whatever … you fucking win, just go to sleep!" He has hissed at her once as it neared midnight and she was still ranting away her points and case. Rinoa had smirked triumphantly and replied self-importantly, "I'm always right, sweetie, why do you even bother anymore?"
So, as always, he would let her win this one. And hopefully, it would end in playful wrestling on the bed, as it used to. He bit his lip to avoid the surfacing smile. At that moment, when his thoughts switched from PG-13 to R, his cellphone rang and he reached to his belt, pulled it off and flipped it open, "Hello?"
"Squall, I'm going to need you to do an immense favor for me." Was that distress in the weary politician's voice? "One of my … henchmen has reported the murder of Linda Kinneas. I can't explain much right now … there has to be some purpose to her assassination."
Squall froze, slightly confused, "Isn't she your wife?" His mouth had gone slightly dry and he felt incredibly uncomfortable in all this.Caraway heaved a sigh and continued on as if nothing was, "Since she's a woman without any knowledge of politics, she couldn't have been killed for that. I … I think … there was an ulterior motive for this murder. I fear that I even know that motive, though I'm crossing my fingers that I'm wrong. An unreliable report declares that a silver-haired man fled the limo in which my wife's body is found and headed in the direction of the subways … probably to avoid being targeted. This news is very untrustworthy, but it only came in two minutes ago. This was at the Versailles station … are you close enough to find him?"
"Yeah … I think …" He replied, befuddled as he dropped a useless tip on the table and headed out into the crowded streets. Squall glanced at the sign 'Stratford Station' and descended the stairs leading from the sidewalk down into the underworld transportation system.
James gave strict orders, "There's no need to kill him so the police can trace you but get the damned tape that he's carrying … and don't listen to it! I'll find out on my own. Is that crystal clear?!" Squall scurried down into the crowd, "Yeah … un-huh, no problem." He replied absent-mindedly and looked over people's heads to see if he could spot a platinum-haired man. The green-line subway pulled to a halt with ear-splitting noise and let off a new batch of passengers. Squall knew the underground tunnels well, and he knew that the 'green-line subway' ran from Versailles to Harper station so there would be no doubt that the 'suspect' had been on that subway.Dozens of peoples with briefcases, backpacks and purses hauled off onto the platform and headed towards the red-line, the blue-line or the orange-line stations that would run them off east, west and north. Stratford station was where they all intercrossed, in the heart of the city, making rush hour a very hellish time.
Out of the corner of his eye, a dart of silver caught his eye. The passenger that had just gotten off, a rushed pace … he was heading for the orange-line that would run north, to the industrial sector. Without knowing if he was the man, Squall bolted for him and followed him into the compartment.
It was hot and crowded and Squall kept his eyes on his prey. He noticed his target fidgeting uncomfortably in his jacket pocket. "What've you got in your pocket, kid?" He asked aloud, over the buzz of the sliding subway, and his victim turned to look at him nervously.
Nick was suddenly fearful. This man knew. The train halted to a stop to let off the odd passenger and suddenly, he felt he had no other choice. He broke into a run out of the doors and his predator pursued with lion speed. "If only Cain hadn't left, damn it, I knew this shit was going to end up on my shoes!" He thought, panting his way up the steps and back onto the street. Squall was at his heels. With a leaping hope, he slammed himself into the younger boy's body and tackled him to the sidewalk. Drops of rain began falling, wet and cold onto the sidewalk, washing the splatter of blood flowing from Nick's mouth. On all fours, he spat out saliva saturated with specks of crimson.Squall stood defiantly above him. Rain dripped down the side of his course-looking face, his blue eyes hardened as he panted to supply the needed oxygen to his lungs. He managed a hoarse menace, "You're not going any-fucking-where."
Nick pathetically attempted another escape but Squall's strong foot crashed down onto his back, flattening him on his stomach in the cold, empty streets. Workers had already left their industries; cops had sped to the nearest doughnut shop for a break … there was no one to hear his yells for help."The hell do you want from me?" Nick breathed anxiously, resting his head on the sidewalk as a way of surrender.
His aggressor wiped his mouth and took another refreshing breath. His hair was beginning to get sopping wet, locks of it stuck to his temples and the rebel ones stuck up in an unruly fashion. The drops poured down from his hairline down onto his chin and neck, giving him a sweaty and tired look … but this fray had far from exhausted him, "Give me the damn tape!" Squall roared impatiently."I don't know what you're talking about, man." Nick tried fruitlessly. Cain would do him in for losing this precious piece of evidence. His partner had ordered him to make a copy of it, so the entire loot wouldn't go to Seifer … if he lost it, he could only rely on his memory and that would discredit the information.
"Don't play dumb." Squall's tone was even, but withheld a very clear threat, "What's on that tape?"
Nick closed his eyes, "Why do you want to know?" If he was going to lose the tape, he needed at least a purpose."What's it to you?" Squall demanded harshly, dismissing the idle chitchat, "It doesn't matter why I want it or what I need it for. Just give me the tape or I'll knock you out cold and take it from you." He saw the younger boy reach into his pocket and retrieve the tiny item. Squall wrenched it from his hands and tucked it into his own jacket pocket.
"I'll get it back." Nick promised, "Even if I don't … it won't erase what I know."
Squall snickered maliciously, "Don't threaten me, kid. I don't have a fancy machine to erase your memory … but don't forget that I can always erase you.""What are you for her? A guardian angel or something?" Nick asked, just as Squall was turning away from the pitiful site. The questions made him freeze, just like the news of Mrs. Kinneas' death. Who was 'her'?
"What're you talking about?" Squall snapped rudely. It was as if he had already guessed what Nick meant, but was too busy hoping he had misheard.
"Rinoa Heartilly … what are you to her? You gotta know her if you want this tape so damn badly … are you looking out for her, making sure she doesn't get hurt or something?" Nick slowly crawled back on all fours and heaved himself to a sitting position.
"What the hell would you know about her?" Squall asked, his blood turning suddenly envious with suspicion that this boy knew something he didn't about a girl he was denying to love.
"I know she's gorgeous. I know she's been hurt too many times. I know that even if I could, I wouldn't use that fucking tape against her. I know why she's the way she is, I know how she must be feeling right now … are you Squall? Squall Leonhart?"
"Maybe I am, what the hell is it to you?" Squall growled with mounting anger.
"You're an asshole. A complete bastard and an idiot, fused into one. You let her go. You let her slip away. You let her die in your arms." Nick turned his head to face his enemy, "You're the one who killed her, in the end, it's your fault."
Squall roared with heaven-splitting violence, he couldn't take it anymore, "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU KNOW?" Blood pounded in his ears as he delivered a final blow to Nick's stomach, leaving him reeling in pain.
He walked away back into the dry subway station.IT TOOK FIFTEEN minutes to arrive back to the comfort of his car, where he was left to ponder whether or not he would break his boss' orders. Obviously, there was something on that tape relating to Rinoa Heartilly. Without further thoughts, he propped the tape into the reader of his car. Turned on the vehicle and pressed 'play'.
The woman's voice was invaded by fresh fear. It occasional quavered and cracked in nervousness, "I don't know much about her, I only know what I've been told."
"And so, what have you been told?" It was Nick's voice and Squall could recognize it distinctly.
There was a desperate sigh, "Her mother died of cancer when she was really young. My husband … my husband told me that she had then shut herself off to the world, and he hadn't bothered to cause her more grief by suddenly becoming the father he had never been … so, she became … troubled, to say the least. I could never … speak with her without being … insulted or … verbally assaulted. She was a genuine little monster and it wasn't late before I could hear her bedroom window open at the stroke of midnight where she would sneak out and do God knows what kind of things with boys her age."The woman took a rattling breath; "My son told me … she had a problem with drugs at some point, which doesn't surprise me at all. She grew to be dependant on them until one night when her nervous system literally exploded in shambles. My son said she avoided drugs from then on. Then, at eighteen she was gone from the house. I'll admit, the atmosphere lightened after she left. It was much more peaceful … less things got thrown across the rooms and such." There was a nervous chuckle, a gulp and then she narrated on, " … Irvine told me that she began to build herself a criminal empire … similar to my husband's. It must have been to spite him."
Linda again, took a short breather and resumed, "Then she met this thug, of some sort. He was this rough … poor kid from the slums." Squall blinked back in shock. He had never been called a 'thug' by someone he had never met and the reflex thought was, 'That damned bitch deserved to die.' He had to remind himself that she had been biased on Rinoa, and so evidently, she would also been swayed in the judgment of her friends, "According to Irvine, he … didn't treat her … ethically, or something like that." Squall rolled his eyes, 'Note to self: Kill Irvine.' And he went back to listening, "She fell in love with this ruffian and I suppose that's when things began to go downhill."
"She … was still such a child. I hate to admit it, but I suppose I do feel a bit … sorry for her. Rinoa fell in love with him, Squall Leonhart I think was his name. Unfortunately, I could have counseled the girl otherwise. Hoodlums raised in the dingy streets of Deling have hearts of stone … they don't love, they abuse. I think she was in an violent relationship … the girl may have suffered from Stockholm syndrome, who knows … but the poor child …"
Squall growled as if to keep himself from ripping the cassette into pieces. This was a load of bullshit. He had never hit Rinoa. Linda Kinneas' words seemed to fade in the backdrop as he lost himself in his memories. No, he had never laid a damn finger on her.
"Can you stop being a fucking idiot … eh? Please?" He had snapped at the top of his lungs, slamming a glass of water on the counter table, "Think logically, Rinoa, the asshole hasn't paid his fucking protection for over two months … the gangs are on his ass, do you think I'm going to get off mine to help him?"
She threw her arms up in the air in exasperation, "He's still a damn person, Squall. You can't let him die at the hands of people like that! And oh never mind, I don't know why I bother when you're in these moods."
His eyes had locked into hers and she had sensed that a confrontation was inevitable, "What moods?" He had growled in a menacing undertone, "I don't have fucking moods! Pissed-off isn't a mood, it's a state of being."
She had the actual courage to roll her eyes and click her tongue, "Yeah, so your moods, as I was saying. It's like a guy PMS or something."
"What is it, fuck, you want to die tonight or something?" He had asked, looking dead serious.
"Christ, alright… never mind, calm down. Don't give yourself an aneurysm." She had blurted to him sarcastically and strode out of the kitchen to avoid her losing of patience. Things would have turned much more ugly.
He had pursued her provokingly, "What? Excuse me? Can I know what your fucking problem is?"
And that had set her off, "My problem? MY problem, Squall? What's YOUR problem … you seem to have more than me. I really think-"
"Honestly, I don't give a shit what you think at the moment! You're telling me to go save this bum's ass, give me a break! Do I look like a good Samaritan to you? Am I wearing blue spandex? Do I look like a Superman to you? Spiderman? Whatever? I thought we had this policy here that-"
She cut in, annoyed, "Alright, never mind, just shut the hell up. It doesn't matter anyway!"
That night, after he had calmed down, he had slipped under the covers and reached for her. She had accepted his pathetic apology. It had been an abusive relationship.
"And of course, even I could have predicted, she got pregnant." His attention snapped back to the tape, "The boy was a jerk, she couldn't take it anymore. She planned it to get rid of him, he got sent to jail after being set up … she got an abortion of course. Normally, I don't support those things but in this case, I think the girl made the right choice … for once. Think about what the child would have turned out to be … with genes from a father like that!" She laughed nervously for the last time.
Squall hit the 'stop' button. He couldn't take it anymore … he was going to be sick. He got out of the car rapidly, despite the rain that was hailing down from the heavens. Squall stared up at the gray sky of Deling, contemplating what it felt like to be charged with murder.His child, their child. He had killed it. It was his fault. He let her slip away. He had destroyed Rinoa Heartilly.
Author's Pointless Rambles: Oh, the angst, free me from the indeniable urge to make this fic bleed out of the ass with ANGST. Yeah, so ... abortion. I'm so clever. And for those who are, "No, abortion is bad! I am pro-life!" Well, I'm sorry, deal with it. Frankly, I'm pro-choice, not that any of you would care but I thought I'd give you that 'as-a-matter-a-fact' treatment.
a) You make me squeal with delight and I mean that in a very CLEAN way.
b) Well, that was average!
c) You are mediocre, you pathetic human.
d) Someone, probe my eyes out, I can't stand her shit!
So, I worked QUITE hard on this chapter, I'm expecting MINIMUM 22 reviews for this baby ... and I'll still update on Saturday. If expectations are not met, well ... it'll have to go for next Friday. Oh, I'm so screwed because I've only written up to 16.
Anyway, review, recommend and support me. Oh, if any of you want to draw for this fic, I'd be more than pleased to post your wonderful art as my profile pic (it's a picture of my kitty cat at the moment) and I will also garantee my eternal love to you.
Check out www(dot)freewebs(dot)com/eatbacon and vote for the wonderful webcomic of joy and join the forums too ... you'll have lots of fun there.
