Devil's Dance Floor

"Ohh Seifer?" The voice coaxed from the shadows. The president of Daily Post sighed and stopped short in the darkened hallways of his corporate building.

"Hello Quistis." He greeted without turning around. Night had fallen. His schedule had only commenced and she was a distraction once more. How had she gotten in anyway? Damn those guards who were fooled by her pretentious charm. Had they no spine?

"Why have you stopped calling me?" She demanded slyly, with hurt faking through, "I was beginning to miss you."

"Of course you were, hunny." It was dark; he took the liberty of rolling his eyes. Why hadn't he noticed how annoying she was when she tried to be cute? Suddenly, it was as if her voice had become shrill to his ears, grinding down on his nerves. Seifer felt her arms wrap around him and his aggravation peaked to a vertex, "I stopped calling you, because you're beginning to slow me down."

"What?" Quistis asked incredulously, "Slowing you down? I was waiting for you, hunny." She let go of him and pushed him away roughly, "All week you've been bragging about that damn tape containing Rinoa Heartilly's flaws and I haven't gotten a glimpse of it yet! How am I slowing you down?"

She was never one to take accusations. Quistis Trepe was a woman who could do nor say any wrong. Seifer grinned wickedly, "So, how's the lion? Have you heard from Squall Leonhart yet?"

There was a pause and Quistis replied simply, nonchalantly, "No, I haven't. Why is it of sudden importance? There are a million men like him in Deling, I don't need him especially."

"You want to know why he hasn't called you?" Seifer asked snidely, sniggering, "Or did you figure that out on your own?"

Quistis clicked her tongue and gestured disbelievingly, "Enlighten me."

"He hasn't called you because he's got no intention of hurting Rinoa Heartilly. None. At all." There was a silence that Seifer broke without shame, tearing at her pride mercilessly, "You got duped. Squall Leonhart is with Rinoa. Unbelievable, I know! Something maybe you should have checked into."

Quistis chewed on her fingernails, "Ok, so what?"

"So what? I'll tell you. You're a stupid broad." Seifer snapped, "You think he's working for you? Think you can control your little puppet? Let me tell you, Squall will do whatever he wants and he favors Rinoa over you. And frankly, so do I. The girl pays attention to her business while you stay home and give orders to your damned secretary! Might have less of a body, but has more of a brain. That's good, I'd rather go with that."

Quistis slapped him in the face and screamed in a fit of anger, "Fuck off!"

His jaw stinging in pain, Seifer grabbed her wrists and tightened his grip enough to know he was hurting her, "Listen up, Quisty. My priorities in this city don't seem to match yours and that's a problem in something we call a good alliance. You're hindering me from my goals and I can't have that. Maybe you should stop being a damn blonde once in a while and I'll consider putting you in my address book. It's really not that hard, I assure you, Rinoa's already made it into the club."

Quistis let out an anguished cry, half out of pain, and half out of rage. Seifer piteously went on, "At the moment, I'll have to ask you to haul your ass from this building before I call my guards and this time, their jobs are on the line so don't think batting your eyelashes will work. Take your dirty little Spaniard dog with you too, another idiot right there."

"You'll pay."

"Don't worry, I'm not lacking in the money department."

"Money can't save you where you're going." Quistis spat, thrashing from his grasp. He let go but it was as if she still felt the pressure of his grip on her wrist. Without another word, she turned from the hallway and stomped out of the building, even more disgusted with Rinoa Heartilly ... if that was possible.

What the hell is so special about her?

"IT'S ALMOST AS if you want to die." Irvine had gawked disbelievingly when Rinoa appeared in the private office of the Midnight Music club. It wasn't much of an office, more like a private lounge. There was a mini-bar, for one (not the best thing to have around when you wanted to do business) and three modern couches besides the desk and the leather office chair that Irvine was loafing on.

"You know, the supreme irony in life is that no one gets out alive anyway." She replied cynically and strode over to the mini-bar where she served herself a drink.

"Still drinking like a fish, I see."

"I don't remember crowning you my father." Another curt response. She was feeling perfectly irritable at the moment present but her mood seemed to take a vicious u-turn as there was a knocking sound at the door, "Come in."

The door opened and in stepped the strawberry blonde businessman, still in his work clothes, "Hey." He smirked at Irvine and at Rinoa, "Mind my dropping in?"

What the fuck is he doing here, holy shit, what the hell does he want? Irvine went into a panic mode. This was it. He had come here to kill. There was a shotgun down one pant leg, he could sense it, "Hi ... Seifer. What a pleasant surprise." He hoped he didn't sound too worried.

"Hiya Seifer." Rinoa answered indifferently but couldn't help grinning at what he held in one hand.

"Brought you a cactus." Seifer held up the ugly plant with one hand and deposited it on the coffee table, "Heard you liked them."

"How unbearably sweet." She remarked, not even bothering to hide her amusement.

What ...

The ...

Fuck ... Irvine attempted his unmoved façade but failed miserably. What the hell was going on? He'd sure like to know, but how to ask? "Yeah, gotta admit, its wonderful decoration." Irvine received a raised eyebrow from his sister but continued on as apathetically as the moment allowed, "So, what do we owe the honor of this visit?"

"Just wanted to hang out, that's all."

"And the skeletons in your closet?" Rinoa drawled, taking a sip of her drink.

"All gone, I swear." He smiled genuinely and scratched the back of his neck.

Rinoa answered with a skeptical, "Sure."

After small, deliberate chitchat, Seifer persuaded them to proceed to the second floor and play a friendly game of pool. Rinoa accepted gleefully, not having sunk an eight ball in a while. Irvine declined, having been humiliated enough by his sister for a lifetime.

As Seifer broke and no balls were pocketed, Rinoa claimed the solids and maneuvered her skills to sink in two of her patterns. She smirked smugly and proceeded to massacre her opponent. Irvine watched in awe. How the hell had she become so good again? If Rinoa's stepbrother had been God for a day, he would have banned women from pool tables altogether.

"I'm going to go get myself a drink." The cowboy declared as he watched his sister sink in yet another ball. Seifer looked as if he were in deep, deep emotional pain.

"Have fun." Rinoa replied absent-mindedly eyeing a potential combo.

He strode away from the slaughter and looked down to the crowd below. A large sea of a mob was 'moshing' on the dance floor as an upbeat tune blared from the speakers. He leaned over on the railing and observed the scene, "God, we need to get rid of some strobe lights. It's an epileptic's worst nightmare, Jesus!" He blinked and looked around.

What caught his eye was an ever so familiar figure leaning over the bar downstairs. That guy was looking around too ... right at him. Irvine recognized the features of the man instantly, "Shit ... oh shit."

SQUALL IDENTIFIED THE flamboyant cowboy hat on the second floor. He leered, "Hi Irvine." He said to himself, "Go get your sister, doggie ... go get her." Squall took a sip of his beer, his eyes not leaving his target, "Come on, boy ... your pissing yourself, aren't you? Who else is here tonight? Is it Seifer? Yes it is, yes it is. But you know your sis will make time for me ... you know she will ... go fetch."

AS SQUALL THOUGHT the last mocking jeer, Irvine, as if on cue with the commencing song, left the ramp and went back to the pool table, "Sorry to interrupt your pool game, Rinoa, come with me." Irvine grabbed her arm and led her to the railing bordering the upstairs balcony, "Look at the bar."

Rinoa, confused and slightly resentful from being pulled from pocketing an eight ball and seeing Seifer's ego slithering on the floor like a worm, scanned the bar and locked her sights on what had Irvine so jumpy. She smiled. Then reminded herself of what his presence symbolized. "He has my demands. I have to meet his. Oh ... damn it, I don't want to." But she didn't have much a choice.

"Keep Seifer busy."

"You know, we could just ask the bouncer to take him outside." Irvine was set on shielding his sister from as much harm as he could, though she seemed to be bent on not dodging a single bullet.

"Or, you know ... you could just mind your own business." Rinoa suggested lightly and moved away towards the stairs. Irvine groaned and went back to the pool table where Seifer was waiting, almost glaring at the lack of solid balls on the table and the abundance of striped ones.

"Rinoa had some business to take care of." Irvine informed monotonously, "If you want, I'll play a game of pool with you."

"Uh ... yeah sure, as long as you don't suck as much as her." Seifer bluffed. If one with keen eyesight were to observe, they would find a grotesquely large amount of Seifer's ego on the floor, being stepped on.

Her breath began to speak

As she stood right in front of me

The color of her eyes

Were the color of insanity

Crushed beneath her wave

Like a ship, I could not reach the shore

We're all just dancers

On the Devil's Dance floor

IT SEEMED TO take forever for her to get down the stairs. With the amount of people in the Midnight Music club, hundreds were on the dance floor and the rest were gallivanting about like wild banshees, going back and forth from the bar downstairs to the pool tables upstairs since the bartender on the second floor refused to serve if you lacked the V.I.P. card. Traffic slowed her journey to him and with each of her cautious step, Squall's nerves burned a little more. Now that he thought of it, she was probably doing this on purpose.

TAKING HER TIME was the wisest choice available to her at the moment. How many seconds till self-destruction? Three. She made it past the crowded stairway and descended onto the dance floor, cautiously slipping past the wired dancers. Two. Past the diluting crowd that led to the bar. One.

He stared at her, waiting for her to break the silence. It wasn't his job anyway. Rinoa attempted to yell atop of the music, "So, why didn't you invite yourself upstairs?" Though her lungs were capable structures, they couldn't bury the blast of noise from the speakers. He gave her a confused look and motioned that he couldn't hear a goddamn thing. Rinoa made a mental note to rid the club of a couple of sub-woofers on the main floor, grabbed him by the collar and jerked him towards her.

Well Swing a little more,

Little more o'er the merry-o

Swing a little more,

A little more next to me

Swing a little more,

Little more o'er the merry-o

Swing a little more,

On the Devil's Dance Floor

Squall, shell-shocked that she was actually touching him again, didn't have time to think only to feel her soft lips close to his ear and to make out the words she spoke in a slightly elevated tone, "Why didn't you invite yourself upstairs?"

Rinoa was also one stunned by her actions but tried to mask it with a certain indifference, "Oh holy shit, I just grabbed him and ..." She thought, panicked. How would he react? Would he shove her away and ask what the hell she was thinking? Ellone's voice practically rang in her ears, "You need to get laid."

Instead of pushing her or demanding what had possessed her to do that, Squall secretly enjoyed being this close to her and replied back in her ear, "Shitkickers only."

They pulled away from each other and she smiled, almost gratefully. Rinoa gestured for him to follow her. Once again, they paved their way through the intense crowd and clambered up a different staircase that led to the management 'office'. "So ... do you have my money and Viktor Lynch?" She asked as she shut the door, sealing the bureau from the unbearable noise.

Pressed against her face

I could feel her insecurity

Her mother'd been a drunk

And her father was obscurity

But nothin' ever came

From a life that was a simple one

So pull yourself together girl

And have a little fun

Squall stopped short at her words. She seemed fine. Where was the proof that Rinoa had ever really lost anything in all this? Maybe the baby had been a wake-up call? 'Time to move on, this guy is dragging you down.' The present Rinoa seemed fine, maybe she wanted that abortion, maybe she wanted him out of her way, maybe she really meant everything she said. I'm sorry baby. I'm a girl with big ambitions ... and you, you're just small time. He felt his heart pinch and he winced.

"I've got fifty percent of what you asked." He replied, suddenly cold with contempt. Damn it, Rinoa ... sonofabitch.

"Fifty percent? Oh, come on." He saw her roll his eyes and his fists balled, a rush of frustration running up and down his body like electricity, "Stop playing around with it, Squall ... where's the other fifty?"

His eyes followed her to behind the mini-bar and watched as she served herself a drink. Squall strode over closer, fished in his back jean pocket to fetch Viktor's number. He flipped it onto the table. Rinoa glanced at it, and fixated back into his sapphire orbs, "And the money? Wasn't that the easiest thing to get?"

I'm sorry, hunny, I was so excited to rush over here like a good little doggy with the newspaper so I could get maybe a belly rub or a scratch behind the ear that I completely forgot the other part of our bargain. See, if this were the times of before, you would have slyly smirked at me, tease me and still give me my just reward. Squall mentally cursed himself but decided to pretend that his negligence was done purposely, "You don't deserve that yet."

Well she took me by the hand

I could see she was a fiery one

Her legs ran all the way

Up to Heaven and past Avalon

Tell me somethin' girl,

What it is you have in store

She said come with me now

On the Devil's Dance Floor

"Don't I?" She took out a beer from the mini-fridge and tossed it to him. He caught it and popped off the cap, took a sip and sat down on one of the bar stools. Rinoa avoided his eyes and asked, "What makes you claim that ever so boldly?"

"I don't know. Might be the fact that these past years have been quite the pain in the ass because of you." Squall snapped harshly, deciding to empty his bags of accusations, "And hasn't your mom ever told you that people find it annoying when you confuse them? First you put me in jail, then you decide to bail me and hand me some money ..." He gestured sarcastically, "No? Well, it's annoying. So give me explanations."

First reaction was shock and that led to anger. Rage even. "You know what I think of you?" She thought maliciously, maybe hoping he would receive her thoughts through some inexistent telepathy, "You're an asshole, a jerk, a fucker, a prick. I don't understand why I've been bringing this guilt upon myself for our failed fucking imaginary attempt at a relationship when all along I could have just opened my eyes and saw that this is all your fault."

"This is your fault, Squall Leonhart."

"This is all your fault."

"And I'm not afraid to say it out loud." She caught his eye and asked viciously, "You know what I think of you?" But stopped short. "Don't lose control, don't let him see the real you. Lie to him. Think quickly. Stall."

Well Swing a little more,

Little more o'er the merry-o

Swing a little more,

A little more next to me

Swing a little more,

Little more o'er the merry-o

Swing a little more,

On the Devil's Dance Floor

Squall raised his eyebrows in a sign for her to continue, "What?"

"Think quickly. Stall." Rinoa stared defiantly back at him and began, "You, Squall Leonhart, are like ice. You're so cold ..." She looked deeply in his eyes to make sure that he was paying attention to her, and only her as she casually picked up a cube of ice from an ice tray on the counter and closed her fist around it, "Yet you still melt in my hand." Squall arched an eyebrow as she opened her palm, exposing the water that dripped down her fingers, "And I can see right through you." She smiled and downcast her eyes from his face, "But you can still send me skidding on my ass." An emerging victory swelled in her gut, "Nice save but why were you complimenting him, dipshit? No matter, it'll make him believe nothing is wrong. Play the game."

"Oh yeah?" He replied, unsure if he was faking the surprise or if he was actually shaken by the declaration, "You take up poetry now?" He brought the bottle of beer to his lips and took a swig. She didn't answer and avoided his eyes, "So ... entertain me a bit ... what's your metaphor on Quistis Trepe?" The words were meant to annoy her.

"Quistis Trepe's a bitch. She just barks one helluva lot but her leash is so short that she never gets to bite." Rinoa replied without missing a beat, her gaze snapped back to meet his defiantly. "He's trying to get you going, don't fall for it. Play the game. Think quickly. Stall." She dropped the cube back into the box and dried her wet hand on her jeans.

"I'm guessing the length of her leash is the comparison to her astuteness?" The taller man took another sip of his drink and awaited the response of the beautiful woman.

"You said it, not me." She responded indifferently, washing her hands clean of her own theory, "But yes, as a matter a fact ... it is."

"A bitch that you fear, no matter what her intelligence quotient is." Squall stated calmly, observing her every facial feature, looking for a weakness, an emotion. Her mind set aflame, "Act like nothing is wrong. Play the game. Talk to him like you used to. Think quickly. Stall."

"She has an intelligence quotient?" Rinoa gasped in false surprise, "My, oh my ... you learn something every day. And no, I'm not afraid of her. There's a difference between holding fear for someone and just plain out hating them. Isn't that right, Squall?" Her eyes narrowed to his.

The apple now is sweet

Oh much sweeter than it ought to be

Another little bite

I don't think there is much hope for me

The sweat beneath her brow

Travels all the way

An' headin' south

The bleedin' heart's cryin'

Cause there's no way out

He flinched slightly and drank some more alcohol, "I agree completely." He downed the remaining drops of the beer and cleared his throat, "You know ... the poet thing ... it's catchy. If I could compare you to anything, Rinoa ... it would be a mirror. You tend to reflect what you see in other people." He picked up his jacket and slipped into it.

"Ouch." Rinoa smiled sardonically, "That one stung, Squall ... I'm hurt." Meanwhile thinking, "Let him play by his rules, you play by yours. Stall." She leaned against the counter, "So, are you Trepe's lapdog now?"

"She's a bitch, I'm her lapdog. It's a dog's world, huh?" He adjusted his collar a bit and turned to face her, "But no, I'm not her lapdog. I'm just the handsome errand boy."

"Now it's in your court. You could've been an actress. Prove it to yourself. Stall." Her eyes lit up in surprise and a sincere smile tickled the corners of her mouth, "I can believe that." She paused, "And don't be so hard on yourself. You aren't just handsome, you're gorgeous. Actually, let's extend that remark and go all the way to 'sexy'." She smirked and he smiled back. "Don't let her rape you or anything, I heard she can be quite the dominatrix."

He laughed genuinely and mentally cursed himself for losing his poker face, "Don't worry about me ... after being shot in the shoulder, I think a bitch with a short leash shouldn't pose a threat." He reclaimed his chilly attitude.

The driving voice echoing in her mind faded. Enter stage left as guilt rears its ugly head. "I could've killed you." Rinoa offered, her eyes avoiding his for numerous times that night. "Why isn't he grateful? Because ... because why should he be?"

"Well, why the Hell didn't you?" He snapped back, suddenly annoyed. "Why didn't I? I killed my baby, why couldn't I have killed him too?" Why did she let him live the torments of a dank jail cell, the feeling of helplessness ... the searing hurt that cut at his heart every day? She was taking the knife she had stabbed him with and was twisting and turning it, carving her name in his insides ... why hadn't she saved him from the pain? She didn't answer, evading his cold eyes that told so much. When no reply came from her he turned towards the door and went towards it.

"No, don't go." She stopped him, "I want to cut a deal. A mutual understanding, just between the two of us. No papers, no blood oaths. A simple agreement based on two people who want to survive." He stopped as he approached the door and stood on the balls of his feet until she spoke again, "Do I have your attention?" She asked hesitantly.

He turned on a 90-degree angle and looked at her pretty face from the corner of an eye, "Undividedly." He replied, fist clenching in a mental preparation for what she was about to propose.

She cleared her throat nervously and folded her hands in her lap, "How's this - Don't deal with Quistis anymore, give me half of the money that you stole and we'll call it even."

"What about the answers?"

She rolled her eyes impatiently, "Answers? What answers? I don't know the answers to today's crossword, I don't know the answer of the math question in the back of my cereal box, I'm sorry I can't help you." It was a slew of sarcasm that aggravated him further.

"I don't care about those answers either. What I want are the answers only you can give me because you are the only one who knows what goes on in that screwed up little mind of yours."

"Ok, so I'll think about it."

"No, you won't." He countered aggressively, "You'll just do it. Alright? So the next time I walk into this crack-whore place, let's skip the pleasantries and get straight to the shit, how does that sound, Rinoa?" He didn't wait for a response; he headed for the door once more.

"Fuck you." She hissed at his back. "Think quickly. Stall."

Squall stopped short and looked at her, "What?"

Rinoa faked an innocent look, "Oh nothing, I've just been waiting to say that to you for so, damn long. And now, I have ... fuck you."

He smirked, "Pleasure was all mine."

Well Swing a little more,

Little more o'er the merry-o

Swing a little more,

A little more next to me

Swing a little more,

Little more o'er the merry-o

Swing a little more,

On the Devil's Dance Floor


Author's Pointless Rambles: For once, I'm going to write something intelligent here. I hope you were observant enough to realize that when Rinoa is trying to be strong and convincing, she doesn't talk in first person and when her defenses crumble, she does. What's the point? Figure it out on your own. The girl's schizophrenic. No, I lied, she's not. But admit, she does have mental issues.Also, notice my little technique of turning Squall and Rinoa against each other ... just to make things more complicated.

Now, the song featured in this chapter is Devil's Dance Floor by the Celtic rock band Flogging Molly. I recently went to Warped Tour and this song happened to be my first mosh pit. It was ... an experience, I'll say that much. I would suggest downloading this song for NEW kinds of music. The lyrics seemed the fit in with the chapter so I thought, "Eh, what the hell ..." It was originally supposed to be You Spin Me Right Round (Like a Record) by Dope but ... changed me mind.

It's also my birthday today (September 18th - I'm a virgo ... ::a halo floats inches above her head as a blinding light washes onto her::) so please ... please ... please review? It's all I ask for an opinion! Do submit a review, it IS my Sweet Sixteen (boo-yaaa!).

Speaking of 'boo-yaa!', check out my profile page and you'll see that the wonderful Sailor-Nova-S from has submitted one AWESOME fanart of a particular scene in Devil's Playground that I'm sure you all enjoyed ... well, I hope you all enjoyed.

Review or it'll make me cry and I'll drown your puppies, MAHAHAH!! ::cackles like a witch and flies off on a broomstick:: (so much for keeping it intelligent).

a) Excellent

b) Fair

c) Mediocre

d) Poor