The passage of time saw Quistis favorably entrenched on a remote island somewhere in the tropics. She rose when she wanted to, slept as late as she desired, and spent her days in blissful seclusion with her books. She put the recent battle for Garden as far from her mind as possible, the pink scar on her abdomen only occasionally reminding her of that latest brush with death.

No gunshots disturbed her rest, no blaring alarms or squawking calls to action. She had no papers to grade, no meetings to attend, no students demanding her help. No combat, no interrogations, no emergencies, no concerns or cares of any kind. Just Quistis, her thoughts, her books, and the ceaseless sound of the waves.

She was, in a word, bored.

Not that she could bring herself to admit this, of course. She preferred to believe that she simply needed time to get used to relaxing. After spending so much time firing on all cylinders, she felt it perfectly understandable that peace and quiet should seem alien to her.

As always, when confronted with a problem, Quistis had one solution: she sought to attain total mastery of whatever vexed her. She studied leisure with a vengeance. She worked day and night to attain a consummate knowledge of relaxation. She dedicated herself body and soul to the fine art of doing nothing and hated every moment of it.

One day, in the midst of her patrol of the island (decidedly not work, she assured herself, but a practical necessity in order to safeguard her privacy) she returned to her camp to a distinctive ringing tone. One that made her swear, audibly and with no small amount of vehemence.

The sound, she knew without having to look, belonged to a SeeD-issue portable phone. All members of the organization received one and carried it with them at all times. A marvel of compact technology, the phone was waterproof, heatproof, vacuum-proof, resistant to electromagnetic pulses, carried a built-in keyboard with full linkup to the Garden Network, a self-destruct mechanism in case of the owner's capture, and a homing beacon that could locate the phone at any spot on the planet.

For this precise reason, she had conspicuously not packed her phone.

She swore again, starting a mad scramble to the origin of the sound. She arrived at her luggage and tore through it, diving to the bottom of one duffle bag where she found the offender gadget, duct-taped to the side, buried within a pile of books. She ripped the phone from the bag and flipped it open, a litany of curses ready at her lips. She paused, took a breath, and summoned her sweetest disposition as she answered.

"Hello?

"Quisty," came the voice on the other end. "What a treat to hear your voice!"

"Seifer. You're behind this?"

"Perish the thought," he said. "Squall planted the phone. When he said he was going to contact you, I offered to do it instead. I thought you might take it a bit better."

"I see."

"So, how's the vacation?" he asked. "Bored out of your skull and awaiting the chance to return, no doubt..."

"Put him on, please" she said.

"Quistis," came Squall's voice after a moment. "Something's come up. It's urgent."

She smiled, flashing all her teeth. "Please listen to me, Squall. I am on vacation. I am enjoying a peaceful, relaxing furlough, far away from Garden, far away from anything urgent. I don't care how desperate you are, it can either wait, or you can find someone else to handle it."

"But—" he sputtered.

"Goodbye, Squall," she chirped. "See you when I get back. My love to everyone."

She flipped the phone shut and held it tight in her hand. She wound up with all her might and hurled it into the ocean, where it fell with a satisfying plop. Quistis folded her arms over her chest as she watched the ripples dissipate.

She stretched out in a nearby beach chair, taking up the book closest to her and settling in to read. When she realized she'd read the same sentence three times in a row, she rose again, cursing under her breath.

The phone. Waterproof and waiting and calling her home.

She took long strides, wading out into the surf, to the spot where her phone had landed. When the water was high enough, she started to swim.

FIN.

AN:

I am at once relieved and saddened to be finishing the stories that have consumed so much of my brainpower lo these many years. When I started writing, the project was supposed to have been a single story, a straightforward Quistis/Squall romance. As you can see, it grew into something more.

Thanks to all the readers who have kept me going, and who have been patient through my interminable delays.

Special thanks to Kate, my Knight, and Gayle, my Sorceress. I trust both of them will forgive my foray into sentiment.