(Author's Note: I have never played FFVIII or FFVII, so if I mix some things up, I ask that you bear with me, because I'm tweaking the universe a little. If my references to characters like Cloud, Aeryth or Yuffie bother anyone, just tell me why and I'll see what I can do. Other than that, here is just a transition before we just headlong into the mission. Enjoy)

Love at first sight is not possible. This doesn't apply to hatred. The first impression the Warrior got from the Gunblade wielder was…nothing. He was leaning against a wall, his head down, features closed.

"Leon! There you are, my boy," Mirt yelled out, as he and Paine entered the hanger. Paine watched the stranger closely: he barely stiffened, though he gave off an ominous aura as if he was always hidden in shadow. Mirt seemed oblivious to the mutual dislike between his would-be heroes.
"Paine, this is the pilot I was talking about. Leon, this is the Warrior."

Leon pushed himself off the wall, and gave Paine a thorough inspection, eyes heavily lidded. The first thing he said to her was:
"What happened to your face?" She was sure he was partially joking but she didn't want to discuss her many bruises with a stranger.
"What happened to yours?" she shot back, keeping one arm wrapped around herself and the other pointing at his long scar. His eyes narrowed to azure pinpoints. She arched an eyebrow. At the same time they turned to Mirt and said: "No way."
Mirt's jaw dropped, "What?" he demanded, dumbstruck.

"I'm not shuttling around little school girls carrying swords."

Paine bristled and snarled at him, not even deigning to give a worded answer. Leon gave a half smirk, one side of his mouth lifting imperceptibly. At that moment, there was nothing Paine would have liked more than to wipe the stupid smile off his face. She held herself in check, wishing she could escalate things, but knowing she shouldn't. He decided to provoke her further however, by pointing at her sword and asking:
"Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"I know which end to hold," she replied, clipped, but sure, every word dripping with the implication that he wouldn't. Leon clenched his jaw, then reached behind himself without looking and pulled out an odd looking blade. It would have seemed like a normal sword, unless one noticed the hilt, which resembled a shiny silver pistol, with black handle.

The threat of confrontation hung in the air, so strong, you could almost smell it. Paine held her sword: silver-black, the symbol of a menacing skull emblazoned, grinning-close to her body, the hilt by her face. Leon took a relaxed stance, the gunblade resting neatly on his shoulder. Mirt saw the problem growing and ran between the two combatants.

"Now, hold on there. Wait just a minute, I won't have you fighting-it solves nothing."

It was the most reasonable they had heard him, certainly the most persuasive. Gone was the patronizing tone and condescending attitude. Now his voice carried an air of authority, not one to be ignored. The two fighters almost snapped to attention. Mirt took a deep breath and straightened his jacket.

"Now, Leon, how long before we can take off?" he asked, reasonably. Leon's eyes never left Paine's face, as if he was sure she would take advantage of a lax in his attention.
"I just need to refuel," he replied, "Just give me till the end of the day, and I'll be ready."

Mirt all but physically pushed Paine out of the hangar. She sent one final glare over her shoulder but the strange young man was already gone.

In truth, Leon could have left right then, but he felt there were other kinds of preparation needed.

The first thing he did after entering his ship was sit down in the pilots chair. He had sat, plopped, collapsed and every other way imaginable ended up in this chair. He swiveled it around and focused on a screen to see if he had any new messages.

The answer popped up, but it didn't surprise him. It was from Yuffie. She wrote him almost every day, giving updates on the happenings of Traverse Town. Silently, he listened to her high ebullient voice. Some part of him still missed Yuffie terribly, they had made a good team. Apparently Aeryth and Cloud had had their baby. Yuffie didn't know if it was a girl or a boy, for some terrible reason, they weren't letting her in to see it. Leon snorted and shook his head. That didn't surprise him any, Yuffie had a way of getting in your face, but she was not one to be put down. She promised she would update him as soon as possible. Yuffie never wondered why Leon never answered her, she just droned away, ignoring the question of whether he wanted to know or not, if he even cared. Yuffie always saw the best in everyone. He guessed he should be happy for Cloud and Aeryth, they had worked hard to be together. But to be honest, Leon just didn't care enough. The only other message came out garbled and indecipherable. Leon let it go. Junk message, no doubt.

Leon looked around his small ship. There was another seat-it had been Yuffie's-that he'd been meaning to take out, but had never really gotten around to. Other than that there was no furniture, nothing unnecessary. It was always clean because Leon liked order, and simplicity. Complications were…well, complicating.

Like this mission.

He ran a hand over his face. It had sounded like a good idea, and it would get him off this backwater planet, but…something didn't feel right. And it wasn't just the girl, whoever she was. Paine. That's what Mirt had called her. What kind of name was that anyway? He shook his head. This was not helping anything. It crossed his mind that he didn't need to take this mission, but on the other hand…what else could he do? It would be just one more fight, one more night, again and again and again.

He resolutely got up and stepped outside the ship. It wasn't pretty to look at, but it belonged to him and no one else, and therefore was special. And he didn't want that infernal woman walking all over it.

Leon didn't consider himself a chauvinist pig. He didn't disrespect anyone based on their gender, but on their abilities. Respect was hard gained from him, by anyone. Still, he didn't think he was a-

"A masagonistic arrogant-" several other more colorful words wanted to flood out, but Paine brought herself back under control. Actually, it wasn't so much Leon that bothered her but the fact that she hadn't gotten to fight him. It looked like it might actually have been challenging, a welcome change. Still-

"But you will take the mission, right?" Mirt sounded so hopeful, and had a face that reminded Paine of a small fluffy dog. Inwardly she sighed, but knew there was no way she was going to pass this up. She nodded, slowly, carefully. Mirt clapped his hands together.
"Excellent. Shall we see if he's ready?"

Paine raised her hands in a gesture of mock surrender.
"Do I have any choice?" she asked.

Mirt thought about that for a while.
"Not really," he replied. Paine rolled her eyes.