Hey, everyone! Sorry it's been so infernally long since I updated this. First exams, then a bit of writers block...

I think I'll be quicker to update from now, though I can't promise anything. Specially not anything this week, since my dear heart, iliyana, will be here in the UK and staying at my house. (You can tell how happy I am about all this.)

Laguna POV

"Someone to see you, sir," my secretary said, sticking her head around the door. I looked up and found a smile for her.

"Yes? Who is it?"

"He just says he's a friend of your son's, sir," she said, smiling back so that dimples appeared in her cheeks. I was glad she was a cheerful soul, most other secretaries gave up on me within a few months. "Shall I send him in or send him away?"

A friend of Squall's. Introducing himself as a friend of my son's? Then... someone close to Squall. Sent by Squall? It's been a month or so, maybe a little less, since that almost disastrous talk with him. And I haven't been able to stop thinking of it, and him, since. "Send him in," I said, and tried not to sound as hopeful as I felt. Maybe...?

I was quite unprepared for the young man who strolled in, almost as if he owned the place. "Name's Seifer Almasy, but I'm sure you know that," he said, smirking a little at my surprise, "Don't worry, I'm not here to cause havoc."

I was glad I was sitting down. "What are you here for, then?"

For once, I didn't try to finish what I was doing when he came in. I knew practically nothing about this man, but looking at him, I knew it wouldn't be a good idea to keep him waiting. He looked even less patient than Squall and a thousand times more likely to mention it.

"First things first. I'm in love with your son."

I blinked. "Shouldn't you...?"

"Be telling him that? Yeah, but I've got a feeling he knows already, or at least has a clue. Although he's clueless enough..." he shrugged it off. "Anyway. I'm here on Squall's behalf, but he doesn't know I'm here, so I'd appreciate it if you never let him know this. I got Quistis to come up with a mission for me in this area and, well, here I am."

I nodded. "I have a feeling you'd get into trouble with Squall if he knew you were here, right?"

"Perceptive of you, old man. Can I have a seat?" I nodded and he sat, sprawling in the chair as if he owned the place. "A drink would help, too," he suggested. I shook my head at that. We've got nothing but coffee here and no way is anyone else having my coffee. It's reserved for times of crisis – for example, when Kiros actually asks me to work.

"What are you here for?"

He smirked, green eyes intent on me, making me squirm a little in my seat. "Hmm, funny, from what the princess said, I expected some old geezer rambling on all the time, but you're pretty quiet. Or are you stunned into silence?"

"I assume by 'the princess' you mean Squall?"

"Right. Squall."

"He... thinks I ramble?" I raised an eyebrow, and then another fact came up to slap me in the face. "He talks to you about me?"

"Just a little. See, that's one of the reasons why I'm here." He leaned forward in his seat, that smirk on his face that I find irritating and that I think, from the little I know of him, would get under Squall's skin like nothing else on earth. "I'm his lover, sort of, and I'm a little tired of his moping since he came to see you."

"He's moping?"

Damn it. This guy threw me completely off balance, and looking at the rather smug expression on his face, I think he knew it. I couldn't ramble on at him and keep talking, because there was really nothing to say. He already said it, took all the questions I might have and answered them before I could ask. He'd be a formidable politician, if only because he could intimidate his opponents. If he was really my son's lover, I could see the attraction, certainly. There was something almost magnetic about his eyes, vibrant and very much alive. I think he was enjoying the visit, too.

"He's pissed."

"At me? I know that it was kind of sudden, but I really had to tell him, you know? I couldn't keep it secret from him forever, whatever... however much telling him about it pained me. I know he probably thinks I deserted him, doesn't he? I have reasons -"

"Shit, can't get him to talk, can't get you to shut up." The young man... Seifer rolled his eyes at me, leaning back again and crossing his arms. "Are you really his father? Or are you just trying to get close to him and bind Esthar and Balamb Garden together politically and all that crap?"

"I'm really his father," I said, a little insulted.

"Damn. If you weren't, it'd make this so much easier," he sighed.

"Do you really love Squall?" I asked, since he was letting me speak, and he nodded.

"Yes. Very much. And... you know I'm only telling you this because I care for Squall and I want to help him, right?" At my nod, he continued. "Good, 'cause I don't normally say all this shit, even to him. I know him real well, real well. I was his rival before most people in Garden had figured out how to hold their weapons. I learnt to read him, to tell what he's feeling and so on. And he's really, really hurt right now."

"Hurt?"

"Hurt," he confirmed with a nod. "See, he doesn't think of you as a father -"

"I wouldn't expect him to," I said, quickly, "I mean, he only knows me through, what, a handful of dreams and a few talks over the top of a desk? It's not like we've ever had chance to be father and son..."

"Will you let me finish?"

Abashed, I nodded.

"He doesn't think of you as a father," he said, slowly, drawing out the words, leaning back so he could better fix me with his green eyed stare. "He doesn't even think of you as the president of Esthar, really. See, in between dreaming of you and really meeting you and sometime after the war when he had time to have one of his internal monologues, he figured something out."

I had a feeling that Seifer was really enjoying this. It probably wasn't every day someone let him take utter control of a situation in quite this way. But... if it was about Squall, I was prepared to listen. I wanted to fix things up with him, form some kind of relationship.

"He wants to fuck you."

The blunt statement took a moment to sink in. When it did, I found myself just blinking and staring at the young man, speechless.

"More accurately, he wants to fuck you before, during or after me fucking him," he said, his smirk broadening at the look on my face. "See, I got close to him recently – mostly thanks to his frustration and bitchiness after your little announcement, and we've shared some of our fantasies, you know, like you do."

I didn't know and I hadn't done, but I let that go. "He... wants to fuck me?"

The words had never felt so strange in my mouth.

"Yes," he rolled his eyes, "he wants to fuck you. And when he found out you're his father, you just made all his fantasies not only impossible, but also sick and a little weird, you know?"

At least that helped me understand why he had reacted so angrily to my little announcement. It made quite a lot of sense, all of a sudden. He didn't want me to really be his father because that made what he'd hoped for, maybe even longed for, impossible.

"Why are you telling me this?" I managed to ask.

"See, I'm kinda reluctant to ask this because I'm a possessive guy, but..." The infuriating young man smirked at me, "I want you to help me give him what he wants."