Will you join me in this dance of misery,
Cradled in impossibility?
Swooning,
I am swept away, swept off my feet.
With step-by-step we take the lead
As drop-by-drop we start to bleed.
-AFI (Dancing Through Sunday)
No Man's Land
Squall hung up and threw his phone into the backseat. He flipped open his mirror and examined himself. The thin cut on his temple from Caraway's gun barrel had company. Lots of company. Carlos had given him a bit more than a 'taste' of their plan. Squall turned his head to see a long slash from the back of his ear, following his jaw line until halfway to his chin. "Yay, another scar." He muttered to himself. "On top of it all, I have to start a couple of more fights tonight. Can my day get any better or what?"
His lip was also gashed and his cheekbone was bruised but it was his ribs that killed him the most. How many kicks had Carlos delivered in quick successions? God, he didn't care, he just needed painkillers. Squall licked his lips over the dried, cracked blood and almost enjoyed the iron taste. It tasted like chaos. Destruction. A demon rose within him, Ares possessed his spirit suddenly. Bloodshed. This is what he craved. Enough of lying in the shadows. He was brawn, not brains. Fuck strategy.
RINOA SAT IN her office analyzing the papers her father had given her. She was supposed to be Anne-Marie Frances now. Couldn't he have picked a better name? Not that it made a difference anyway. The documents went from passports, to identifications, to a birth certificate and bank statements with a debit card attached with the pin number written in miniscule font at the corner of a blank piece of paper.
She sighed as she looked at the plane ticket. Balamb seemed like a very far away place to her. Most likely riddled with the odd fisherman and his sons that desperately needed wives. "Hey, if there's a cute one, maybe I could make a trip to the local, run-down church, recite a couple of vows and spend the rest of my life gutting fishes and telling my fourteen kids to 'shut their yaps'. Hmm ... this is odd ... why does that option seem so appealing? It's hard to tell which is the better part, the gutting fishes or having monsters that run on batteries as children."
Rinoa smirked and reached a decision. She collected all the papers that had been sprawled out on her desk and neatly arranged them together, strode to the kitchen and dropped them into the trashcan, right atop the broken glass that had shattered on the bathroom floor, "Sorry, Caraway."
Patiently, she waited for dusk to settle upon the eternally hypocrite city. She was curious ... how badly did Quistis want her dead? What was the price on her head? It would be amusing to find out. And so, despite her father's wonderful lecture today (his first ever delivered) she wouldn't listen. When had she ever listened? More importantly, why should she start at twenty-five? "Twenty-five ... ugh ... I'm so old. Soon, I'll start gaining weight and oh, it's painful to think about it." She glanced around her lifeless apartment, "It's really lonely in here ... man, so how about those tropical fish? Or maybe plants. Lots of old women like plants. And cats ... maybe I'll get dozens of cats and petition on the rights of ownership when the landlord threatens to kick me out. Or I could just start bawling and hugging them, claiming them to be like children to me." Her thoughts lingered in limbo and started again, bemused, "Woah, what happened to just going out to clubs and getting myself plastered?"
And that had to make her heave an exasperated sigh again. Why was she talking like she had some sort of remote future? Nothing was for sure and it wasn't as if she was desperately trying to survive. Survival was only of the slightest concern ... survival was only essential because she had promised herself not to die by anyone's hand except the one that had struck her down. And that hand belonged to Squall.
Slowly, the sun sunk down and away from Deling to rise again at the eastern Estharian horizon. The monster removed its mask and everywhere in alleys, glints of the silver of guns slithered from their hibernation spots. Rinoa had changed into jeans (a much safer choice as the night proved to be slightly chillier than the day) and had slipped into a denim jacket. She grabbed her keys from the coffee table and took one last look around. Having satisfied her last glance, she shut the door of her apartment, doubting if she'd open it again, ignoring that she would, in fact, but with unexpected company.
SQUALL WAS ALMOST amazed at his turn of luck. Making things go bad was stunningly simple, he realized this as he looked around the construction site. Trepe's men and hired hitman would most likely meet in the heart of the building being erected. The foundation had been settled and two concrete walls were solidified. Beams overhung setting the place for the second floor and the only way up there was through a construction elevator. Or they could climb that pile of wooden crates and steel cargo bins. But who would even want to reach the second floors with only thin (though sturdy) pieces of steel to balance on?
Obviously they would meet between the two walls of the future first floor. It was convenient as the security lights shone there mostly. At the back with the barbed wire fencing were two fuel tanks. This was easy. So incredibly easy to create a diversion. He jogged back to his car (which he had conveniently parked on the other side of the street) and popped open the trunk where he kept a spare container of gas (just in case) and doubled his speed back to the center of the construction site.
In the darkness of the night, lit only by security flares Squall emptied the canteen of gasoline in a generous trace up to the middle of 'first floor'. It was visible but still discreet. Some may assume it's just water, after all, who said the world was free of idiots? He shouldn't have much time left, and he still needed to figure out his angles. About ten yards away from the tanks were scrap pieces of metal, mostly grail supports and cut-off beams. Behind this debris he had a clear shot of the tanks ... besides, it should be a great enough distance so he wouldn't suffer.
Squall spotted bright headlights in the distance and the cutting of an engine. "Here they come."
RINOA HAD PARKED her car a few blocks away. She didn't mind walking and didn't really feel like being recognized by the 'hitman' or Trepe's henchmen so the car had to lag behind somewhere. She strode, shockingly relaxed, on the worn pavement of the sidewalk until she arrived at the supposed meeting place. "What a clever place to exchange pleasantries and money ... you've out-done yourself, Quistis ... I'm sure an idiotic, babbling, retarded four-year old child could've drooled over that idea and given himself an aneurysm. So, I suppose that's saying a lot for you."
Viewing the scene, she sighed, "Well this is another stupid idea. Where the hell am I supposed to not be seen? Is knowing the price of my head really worth my ass? Am I this fucking bored?" But curiosity was far too well rooted within her. Noticing a pile of debris near a newly established wall, she headed in that general direction. "Now to test if the monkey-skills I acquired as a toddler are still effective." She hoisted herself on a cargo bin, making a clanging noise. "It's fine ... no one's here yet." Rinoa carefully studied her steps so not to make crates fall off and her tumbling after. Finally, she was able to grab a beam and pull herself over onto the wall. "Well, look at my luck, there's some nice ass room over here." A sarcastic thought intruded on her concentration and her feet left the solidity of the bricks. She grappled onto a support beam just in time and hung, dangling like a cat that had wandered too far up a tree.
FROM SQUALL'S STANDING point, he could only see a distinguished figure obviously taking this site for a jungle gym, "What a damn idiot. What are they doing? Who the fuck is that anyway? Maybe I should help ... actually, no, it'd be funny to see them fall."
THE WEIGHT ON her arms was dragging her down, "Man, I'm already starting to get fat, this is depressing." She looked down at her feet, worried. Was that a car door that had just closed? "Fuck." Rinoa pulled, putting her entire weight on her poor biceps that hadn't known such rigorous exercise in quite a lengthy amount of time. By swinging herself, she managed to catch a parallel beam with her foot and then pulled herself to a seating position onto that same beam, "Ohh yeah, baby ... twenty-five, alive and kicking but I'm SO gonna feel that one in the morning." Softly panting she slid alongside the beam until reaching the top of the wall where she finally sat on the hard, solid concrete.
She checked around. "Excellent, no blindingly bright lights on me." It was true. Her body was entirely camouflaged in the darkness but if she were to budge even an inch and a half, she would fall into the shine and another game over would streak her day.
SQUALL WAS VERY disappointed. "Damn, they didn't fall. Pity. They can't be Trepe's people ... could this idiot be the hitman?" But his questions didn't go unanswered for long. As more headlights dimmed and more car doors shut, he saw a small army of twenty or so Trepies surround the entire area. They had guns. All of them. Squall groaned, "Fuck, can anything get any better?" He remained hidden in his pile, "Hopefully, smoke will cover me after the shot."
Two Trepies, one carrying a heavy looking, leather briefcase stepped into the pool of light smack dab where Squall had predicted. He detected other footsteps that belonged to a tall, slim man in a navy suit with sunglasses even this late out at night. Shoulder length black hair tied back into a ponytail was only one of his recognizable assets. Squall's eyes widened, "Holy shit, it ... can't be ..."
RINOA WAS FROZEN, too afraid to move. Her skin crawled with fear and anticipation for this meeting to be quickly done over with. She tasted her death, partially because she was biting down on her tongue so hard that she drew blood. Too nervous to breathe normally, she sucked in silent, shallow breaths when she could unclench her jaw. A field riddled with Trepe's men and one serious-looking assassin. Her assassin.
"My money." Her supposed murderer demanded immediately. He sure had a way of beating around the bush. Or not. The man was definitely Asian though.
The one holding the briefcase handed it to him and smirked, "Counted to the last bill by the lady herself ... so if you have any issues, you can address her."
Rinoa smiled to herself and thought, amused, "What brave men you have, Quistis. What brave, loyal men."
The contract killer took the case and had the most sinister smile, "Well, then this is all taken care of. I have the files ... I have the money. Expect a happy Ms. Trepe tomorrow morning." Rinoa's eyes widened. They certainly wasted no time.
"Case closed." The other Trepie declared gleefully. Case closed indeed as a single bullet was fired into the fuel tanks.
THE BULLET HIT the steel tanks with an incredible impact sending off a tiny spark, and a spark was enough to quickly engulf the liquid inside the metal shell. Flames consumed the gas entirely, sending sharp shards of steel exploding in different directions and spewing a firework show.
Squall had miscalculated. A miscalculation that cost him dear. The twisted metal carcass shot out from the blast and gashed the left side of his body. The burning steel sliced through his leather coat, carving its mark onto his arm. He felt a white-hot make-shift knife cut onto the side of his head. Smoke billowed from the blown tanks and covered the site in thick, acrid smog.
The fire was still going, eating the trace of gasoline that Squall had made, it slithered its way up to the negotiating party in a matter of milliseconds. Surprised by the explosion and the chasing flames, they dispersed and the hitman cried out in anger, "YOU WON'T GET ME LIKE THIS!" He ran away from the flames but his eyes were handicapped to the smoke.
Rinoa tumbled backwards on the wall in surprise and landed amongst the teeter-totter crates that crumbled under her weight. Her legs burnt from the sudden flame eruption in the middle of the meeting spot, she picked herself off the floor painfully moaning. "Well, this turned out to be a bad idea." She thought, panic mode ensued with a streak of obvious confusion, coughing up the air her lungs couldn't take. She held the collar of her jacket to her nose and stumbled across no man's land. Every coward for themselves, those who venture in this uncharted, unclaimed land may not return home.
Unknowing to her, she had made a straight path for the pile of scrap metal and she had hit home. Tumbling over the grail and warped beams, she landed on something softer than the ground. Rather, someone. That someone let out an anguished cry filled with a certain rage and threw her off of him in a fit of fury, "FUCKING IDIOT!"
She knew that voice. She wished she didn't. Rinoa felt a rough hand grab her throat roughly, without mercy and shut her eyes tightly, preparing for the blow, "What the fuck are you doing here!?" Squall snapped viciously, holding back his fist just in time.
"What an intelligent question to be asking now." Rinoa remarked with a certain irony. She grimaced as she shoved him off of her and stumbled to a standing position, coughing manically, holding her hands to her face in a vain attempt to filter the air. She tasted the acridity of the smog and it made her sick to her stomach, "Don't know about you, but I'm leaving." She darted from his sight in a quick hurry.
Ignoring the pain, Squall winced his way to a sprint and attempted to catch up with her. Futile. She was lost in the thick foggy air. He resolved to just running in every direction, gun in hand in case he were to bump into anyone. Once he felt his shoes hit the cold asphalt he didn't stop running. Her car had to be somewhere around here.
Slowing his pace to a jog, he looked behind him to see headlights flash and engines rev out of the industrial sector. "There, I made everything go wrong. Happy, Mr. Caraway?"
He panted his way away from the construction site of Hudd Avenue and was a number of blocks away when he spotted the silver Porsche. Squall rolled his eyes, "Probably too nervous to get the key in."
The young man's theory wasn't entirely false. Rinoa sat in the driver's seat, breathing the clean air her car offered her. Her eyes remained closed, her knuckles pressed to her lips, her forehead resting on the wheel.
The passenger door opened and she yelped in fright at the intruder. Squall leisurely got into the seat and caught his breath slowly.
"You ... you ..." Rinoa stuttered and suddenly was overwhelmed with a short fuse of anger, "You're bleeding in my fucking car!" She punched his left arm with a defining force that made him howl like a wounded dog, "GET OUT!"
Squall grabbed his injury with his right hand and harshly roared, "JUST FUCKING DRIVE, YOU IDIOT!"
"GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT!" She yelled back, trying to bury his intimidating volume.
Much to her surprise, Squall's left hand was still very much functional. He grabbed her wrist vigorously and tore her keys away with a startling viciousness. Squall ignited the engine and looked at her meaningfully, "Listen to me and drive or I'll do it for you." There was a certain threatening edge to his growls that made her believe his intimidation wasn't just 'all talk'.
She gulped and whispered softly, "Where?"
"Your apartment, you don't need directions to go there, do you?"
They drove slowly out of the industrial sector with little conversation, only a hushed silence that made both uncomfortable. Rinoa shifted gears as she picked up speed and Squall watched her hand shakily rest on the shifting stick. His eyes traveled interested to her face, down to her thighs ... he rubbed his temples and looked away, embarrassed.
"What were you doing there?" He asked a little calmer this time.
"I was taking a walk, obviously." Rinoa replied, sarcasm biting down her words, "I usually love to walk by factories and warehouses all the time. It's such a turn on. Total eye candy." She shifted into third, "What the hell were you doing there? I thought we had a deal. No more connections with Trepe."
Squall smirked, "Yeah, I'm not working for her anymore. Mostly thanks to you, but let's not start pointing fingers. I don't have enough of them. Since it's just you and I, let's have a nice conversation. Your father is such a kind man, now I know whom you get it from. I mean ... he called me an idiot, hit me upside the head, gun in hand might I add, orders me around like I'm some sort of slave, has me by the damn testicles ..."Rinoa nodded and clicked her tongue, "Yeah, yeah ..."
"Your brother is also such a nice guy with a mouth the size of a grapefruit, and I've seen some pretty big grapefruit. Tell me, is every member of your family so charming? Tell me more about your mother, did she skin puppies in her spare time and make coats out of them? Just by knowing you, I kind of pictured her as a woman who amused herself by grabbing men's crotches and sinking her nails deep into their-"
"Don't even talk about my mother, Squall. Shut the fuck up, no one cares about what's in your goddamn pants." Rinoa interrupted, almost fuming. The rest of the ride was accorded a heavy, golden silence.
A SOFT CRIMSON color fogged the water as Rinoa strained the damp cloth and re-applied it to Squall's arm, doing her best to clean the cut without hurting him. He was such a damn baby sometimes, "Christ, woman!" He scowled in surprise at the burning sensation on his flesh, "Is that water or rubbing alcohol?"
"It's peroxide mixed with water, you stupid cad." Rinoa snapped back, "The least you can do is show you have some spine and stop leaning your leg on the edge of my damn couch because if you haven't notice, you're getting it dirty. Just sit still!"
"I'm bleeding out the ass and she tells me I'm getting fucking furniture dirty!" He exclaimed in incredulity, "The fucking broad complains I'm getting her fucking couch contaminated, sorry, Rin, I'll just fucking STOP leaking blood now since I'm obviously causing you lots of trouble with this whole-" A sharp stinging slap to the face. Silence. And then, "Ok, maybe I deserved that."
"You think?" She rinsed the cloth and strained it once more, sighing. Rinoa delicately wiped around the rather large cut. Squall watched her work, never had seen her as the nursing type. She was, in fact, a terrible nurse, he remarked as she awkwardly avoided the wound, possibly in fear of making him scream bloody murder.
His eyes traveled to her silky hair, certain strands falling into her eyes as she concentrated. Squall felt a pang of desire. He leaned his head back and groaned, "What's your problem now?" Rinoa hissed contemptuously. Her voice was ever so seductive, even when she was angry. Was she doing this purposely? He wondered.
"Why didn't you just kill me?"
Silence. And again, he prompted, "Why didn't you kill me?"
"Why didn't you just kill me?" She retorted, going back to her bowl of peroxide and water.
"Answer me, fuck!" Squall growled, annoyed, "Don't start fucking with my mind, can you give me a straight answer?"
"I just didn't feel like it, Squall!" She snapped nastily, pressing on the wound causing him to suppress a painful yowl, "Because I missed and I only had one bullet!" She pushed the cloth to his wound making his jaw clench, "Because I felt so sorry for you." More pressure, "Because you looked pathetic, lying there like road kill, bait for the cops. Because as a woman of the upper class, I had mercy for the pitiful ruffian below me. Pick one, you prick." Finally, the result she wished for was yielded as he cried out in splintering pain.
She threw the bloodied cloth back into the bowl, left him on the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. He heard the tap go on as she dumped the dirtied water into the sink. Squall heard her soft footsteps come back into the living room and away into her bedroom. Rinoa came back with an ace bandage and grabbed his arm roughly. Definitely not a nurse by nature.
She wrapped the bandage tightly around his bicep, "Too tight." He muttered, but she ignored him, "It's too damn tight. Are you listening? Too tight."
"It's supposed to be, idiot, your blood needs to clot." She finished fastening the bandage and looked towards the window where drops of rain splattered onto the balcony and onto the windows with a soft pitter-patter. They both looked into the darkness of outside as the drops began to hit the pane with certain violence. She looked back to him, her eyes betraying her cold façade with a tender glance, "I'll call a taxi."
"What?"
"Unless you want to walk home." She avoided his eyes and made her way to the kitchen once more but was stopped short by his hold on her arm, "What?"
"I'm not going anywhere right now." He got up from the couch, grabbed his coat from the armrest and slipped into it again, "You're going to answer me. I think we've square-danced around this one long enough, don't you think? It's a never-ending chase, I'm growing bored ... not to mention very, very, very annoyed."
"Not my problem." Rinoa wrenched away from his grasp, "I'm calling you a taxi."
"No. Enough stalling."
"Squall, it's late, I'm sick and tired. Sick and tired of you, mainly, if you really want the truth. And there's just no way I'm going to put coffee on and sit down to chat with you. It's been a long, long day for me and I'm sure you're old enough to understand that I want to be left alone right now. Are you mature enough to handle some odd hours of being alone until I feel like seeing your face again in the morning?"
"Nope. I'm not. Put some coffee on. Sit down. We're going to chat."
He stood, towering inches over her, his cold eyes glaring into her vulnerable eyes, "Don't worry, Rinoa ... Tsang thinks Trepe betrayed him. So we really have all the time in the world ... no one's going to kill you tonight. At least, not to my knowledge. Let's talk about everything right now. Let's cover every single angle of our wonderful relationship, what do you say?" Seconds trickled to minutes and Rinoa stood still, unwavering, mentally and physically preparing herself for the confrontation that had been waiting to happen. The second conflict to be wrapped up tonight.
She let out a breath and chuckled nervously. No, she wasn't ready for this yet. She wanted him to go away. God, why wouldn't he go away?
A surge of anger rushed up and down her spine like electricity. Why wouldn't he go the fuck away? Her eyes flared à la frustration. Knuckles tightened to strong fists as she stared, inches from brave, into his cool blue eyes. Rinoa Heartilly had more than enough. He just hadn't picked his day.
Author's Pointless Rambles: Nothing special about this chapter, and yes, I'm aware of the scientific innacuracy of it. No comments, I was running out of ideas and I had to settle for second best action movie crap. Sorry guys.
I've been doing alot of going crazy, procrastinating and bitching lately. As in, 'not writing' and I find that sad. I'll be getting back on track soon because I'm definetly running out of chapters to post. My laptop's hardware exploded but everything's back now and I didn't lose as much as I thought I had - thank God because I had begun to write a chapter and I don't back up my files. This experience has taught me otherwise.
PLEASE review, you don't know how much it means to me to know whether or not you people like it.
A - Good, B - Fair, C - Mediocre, D - Poor
Questions:
1. where did you get the idea for this fic? -trekken46
Well, Grand Theft Auto: III mixed with my morbid sense of pleasure to make other's suffer pretty much brought it all together nicely.
2. What did Ellone mean by 'You're too late. I shot her. I destroyed your girlfriend.'? -angel-brokensorrow
Ellone was being the drama queen she is. She feels incredibly guilty for having betrayed Rinoa and thinks that she has catalyze the auto self-destruction mechanism within Rinoa.
3. If Fuzzy wuzzy was a Bear, and Fuzzy wuzzy had no hair, how could Fuzzy Wuzzy be Fuzzy? -Loki-TheGrimScreamer
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a fraud. He was trialed and executed for his crimes. He was the Leonardo DiCaprio of 'Catch Me if You Can'.
4. Why does Rinoa blame Squall. And though I am sure you have the answer in the story I probably read it at 2 a.m. and can't remember, why in god's name did Rinoa shoot Squall in the first place. -Lorok
Rinoa doesn't really blame Squall. She only really accused him in the 'Devil's Dance Floor' chapter and then on since the fact that she was actually blaming herself was beginning to weigh on her conscious a little too much. She shot Squall because it was a good alternative to get rid of him ... and she wanted to get rid of him to prove to herself that she was as independant as he was. See, my characters are all psychotic and strikingly dumb.
5. is there anything that inspires you to write or does it all just pop up in your head and will Squall or Caraway kill Quistis in the end? -shortie630
At times, I'm inspired by other literary pieces or people and sometimes it just pops into my head. This whole story plays in my mind like a movie and I'm free to edit and cut whenever I get down to my keyboard. As for your second question, you'll just have to wait and see.
6. Err, is it Seifer's fault that I can't be in a proper relationship? Is it
because of him that I feel like I don't give enough about other men? -Verdiani
Yes. Yes it is. Why wouldn't it be his fault? It's Squall's fault I never have a boyfriend ... I suppose it's a combine effort. We're weird and they're hot.
7. if you were living on the street and only had a nickel what would you do with it? -chrissy-chan
Give it to another homeless man who seems to have more in his cup than I do.
8. Why does Rinoa blame the death of her child on Squall? -Freakker
Again, she doesn't REALLY blame him as she did account that it was her fault in the beginning. But she partially blames him because she wouldn't have gotten rid of the child if she knew Squall loved her, which she was convinced he didn't.
9. I dunno if im just clueless, but it seems to me that Zell's sis never paid Squall back. So...what's up with that? Did the kid just run off with his ten bucks? Who the hell came up with the word 'mosh'? As in, 'mosh'pit? Mosh...tosh...squash? Maybe that's it... Do you want Bush or Kerry to win? and,finally, Could you explain Squall's background further? - desianhawk
Zell's sis will come back soon. I don't know who invented the word mosh but he did a great job of it. Kerry. And no. His past isn't important, aren't you interested in his FUTURE? If he has one that is ...
10. Has the Eat Bacon forum been shut down? -Quiet Rain
Yes, sorry for the inconvinience.
11. How many chapters is this going to be? -E
No clue.
12. Why does god hate me so?! -Fade to Black
I'm not sure if it's God or not. But mmm, Davey Havok ...
13. hey, the red sox won? -Pretty Like Drugs
And the Montreal Expos died ... what's the world coming to?
Thank you for your questions! If you do not see your question has been answered here, it means you asked one relating to what would happen further on in the story and I'm sorry but I can't answer those.
