DISCLAIMER: I do not own any rights to Final Fantasy VIII, Kingdom Hearts, or any component thereof. I merely borrow, steal, and maim without qualm.
Welcome to "Losing Heart"! I hope you enjoy my fanfic, as I suspect I will enjoy writing it. Please bear with me as I struggle through sticky plot lines, alternate universe-like theories, and writer's block galore. This fic is based upon the transition of my favorite character, Squall Leonhart, into the man called simply "Leon" who exists in the Kingdom Hearts world as a sort of mentor to the main character, Sora. If you have not played or are not familiar with either FFVIII or Kingdom Hearts, I really don't know what you're doing here. In order to connect the two storylines (Kingdom Hearts is, in a way, an AU for Final Fantasy characters,) I have to make FFVIII a little bit more AU. I've tried my best to stay true to the storyline. Enjoy!
Losing Heart
Chapter One:
Night Flight
"Shit!"
The curse burst out reflexively, and Squall Leonhart, Commander of Balamb Garden, made an instinctive and ungainly leap over to the furry shape crouched in the entranceway to his room. Fighting to keep his feet under him, Squall staggered to the nearest wall and slapped at it indiscriminately until he hit the light switch. The bright illumination that flooded the living room momentarily blinded him, and Squall blinked rapidly to focus his gaze on the cat glaring up at him through accusatory green eyes from the small welcome rug placed by the front door to the dorm room.
"Don't you look at me, Plumpy," Squall informed the sleek orange-striped cat as it twitched the tip of its tail in agitation. "You're the one skulking around in the dark under my feet." He stifled a yawn and passed through the cozy sitting area to his bedroom, the cat following him on soundless paws, not the least contrite for its actions.
It had been a long day, most of it wasted as the Garden haggled with the local authorities over their rights and restrictions concerning the construction of an additional permanent Garden complex beside the current structure. Politicians, and those who dabbled in politics, were all lunatics as far as Squall was concerned. Looney as Ochus, every one of them. Prolonged contact with their kind—their species—could result in permanent brain damage. Squall rubbed his temple at the faint headache lurking there, just below the surface, and stripped down to his boxers before falling facedown into his pillow and the welcome oblivion of sleep.
He was just about to pull the covers over his head when he remembered. "Bahamut blast it all," he muttered, rolling onto his back and glaring at the ceiling.
First, he'd forgotten to turn off the lights.
Second, he needed to get Angelo.
Well, okay, Squall amended mentally. He didn't need to get Angelo. Rinao had said that her faithful dog would be fine spending the nights alone in her room until she returned from her two-week trip. Of course, she had also mentioned in the same breath, albeit it somewhat jokingly, that Angelo got lonely at night and would love to sleep over with him.
But it was one night, Squall debated with himself. One measly night. Angelo would be fine.
With a muttered oath, Squall swung his legs over the edge of his bed and sat up. Angelo would be fine, yes, but he would get no sleep worrying about second-guessing himself and abandoning Rinoa's trusty companion for the last part of the night. Then he just sat with his bare feet on the cold wooden floor and contemplated his current state of dress. He cast a glance at the clock, then at his clothes tossed negligently over the back of his chair.
It was fifty minutes after midnight, long after curfew, and all SeeD, trainees, and Garden staff were to be in their dorm rooms with the door locked, even if they weren't asleep. But Garden was neither a prison nor a monastery, and it was that magic hour where all life was still and silent and just perfect for sneaking off to the so-called 'secret' area in the back of the Training Center for a late-night rendezvous with your significant other.
Not, of course, that Squall knew that from firsthand experience.
…Of course.
Hauling his weary body to his feet, Squall tugged on his shirt and pants again as he headed for the door. The last thing he needed was to be caught wandering the halls in his boxers by some impressionable and big-mouthed trainee. Or an instructor. Squall shuddered. Instructors were without a doubt infinitely worse than their students, and who knew what kind of rumors they'd spread about him behind his back and in front of his face if one of them happened to be up and wandering the hallways.
Angelo was glad to see him, and Squall let the door swing open behind him as he checked the note Selphie had left for him on the table, ignoring the dog planting her paws on his chest and licking his chin in greeting. Took Angie for a walk after dinner, let her play in the fields. I'll be back tomorrow morning to feed her at seven if she's not with you. –Selph
"Thanks, Selphie," Squall murmured, then snapped his fingers for Angelo to fall in step beside him. She obediently followed him out of Rinoa's rooms and down the hall, her paws padding almost soundlessly over the floor. It was sort of…nice, Squall decided, as Angelo sat patiently at his hip and waited for him to uncode the door to let them both in, having a dog just to hang around with and care for. One that was trained and friendly and well-mannered and didn't lurk in the shadows beneath his feet.
"Unlike cats," he said aloud, just to needle Pumpkin, who was sitting primly on the arm of the sofa, watching for his return. As if understanding the words, Pumpkin turned his back to Squall and, lifting his leg, began to wash in the ultimate of feline insults. Squall just shook his head and moved to the bedroom. He flipped on the bedside lamp before turning off the lights and, heaving a relieved sigh at the welcome comfort of his bed, crawled under the blankets. He thumped the mattress beside his hip in invitation, and he was greeted with two thumps—one soft, one heavy—as both dog and cat landed on top of him. Squall merely grunted.
"Good-night," he mumbled, yawning and reaching to shut off the light. Angelo circled twice, then lay down in a tight little roll with her chin resting against his stomach, Pumpkin performing a similar and no less enthusiastic routine on Squall's head.
And thus, warmed by his four-legged friends' company, Squall slept.
Rinoa Heartilly shivered in the cold as she hoisted her duffel bag over her shoulder and leaned over the window to pay the cabby the proper fare. She offered a warm, if somewhat tired, smile to the bored-looking driver who had taken her the last leg of her journey from the Balamb train station. Flipping out the bills from her wallet, Rinoa counted the change, calculated a more than generous tip for the service—or what could have laughingly been called 'service'—he had offered her, and handed it over. "Thanks for the midnight trip," she said with a friendly wave. "Keep the change." He barely acknowledged her with a nod before he rolled up the window and zipped off, leaving her alone at the Garden's front gates.
Despite the icy temperatures—the cold of the middle of the night that just seeped straight to her bones—and her travel fatigue, Rinoa dredged up the energy to plant her hands on her hips and scowl indignantly a the retreating taillights. "Well, that was just rude. That's the last time I ever take Balamb Speedy Cab. Hmph." With a dismissive flick of her hand, Rinoa turned to the impressive front entryway to Balamb Garden and started up the long flight of stairs. All she wanted was a few hours' good sleep in bed in a toasty warm room to set her up before she ran over to Squall's room and gave him a long-overdue and much-anticipated welcome home kiss. And whatever else that might follow…
A blush tinged Rinoa's cheeks, and she glanced around furtively, as if anyone who might be about to see her would be able to read her thoughts. It wasn't that she always thought about Squall like that, it's just…he was the most amazing kisser, and there was something terrifying and delightful about the way he held her, the way he looked at her with those gorgeous sapphire eyes, the feel of his skin on hers…
Rinoa snapped her head back into place and concentrated on crossing the great expanse of foyer to the hallway that wrapped around the central elevator bank to the dormitories. She really needed that sleep. It was only exhaustion that was letting her get away with following that particular train of thought.
Yeah, Rinoa though, amused with herself. Just exhaustion.
She came to the split in the hallway and paused. Logically, she should take the right wing and head straight for Angelo and her bed. But part of her—a very large, very persuasive part of her—wanted to go left, where the higher ranking SeeD dorms were. Rinoa glanced towards her room, and guilt gnawed at her heart as she hesitated. One more night alone wouldn't make much of a difference to Angelo, she justified reluctantly, and headed to the left.
But one more night without Squall might just kill her.
Rinoa dug into her bag for the keycard to unlock Squall's door. They had exchanged lock codes over a year ago, when they had decided with finality that they were willing and committed and serious about their relationship. As if, Rinoa thought with a smile as she pulled the keycard out of the small compartment of her traveling case, Squall could have been anything else.
But still, nerves danced in her belly as she unlocked the door and slipped into the darkened front room. It was only the fifth or sixth time she had used her card—usually she was with Squall when she was in his room—and the first time she'd entered, without his knowing, while he was in.
Rinoa shut the door behind her quietly, careful not to make any noise as she set her bag down by the sofa and out of the way. The clock on the wall glowed faintly, the time reading just after four AM, as she pulled off her shoes, lining them up neatly beside her bag, and folded her thin blue jacket onto the sofa cushion. She shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms. She'd forgotten that Squall didn't like his bedroom to be quite as toasty as she preferred.
But that was okay. Squall was always nice and warm
She stood in the doorway to the bedroom, one hand on the doorframe to orient herself, and waited for her eyes to adjust to the deeper darkness within.
And stifled a yelp of surprise.
Two pairs of eyes—one a sleepy brown, one a sharp and brilliant emerald—stared back at her, and she was greeted with a quick flurry of loud, welcoming woofs.
"Angelo?" Rinoa whispered it in shock the same time Squall spoke, shifting to a more comfortable position and giving the dog a sharp and probably accidental nudge with his foot.
"You think I'm getting up one more time for you, you're wrong." His voice was slurred and heavy with sleep. "Hold it in 'til morning, and if you piddle on my floor, I'll have to…" The threat trailed off into deep, even breathing as Squall fell back asleep, but those uncanny green eyes from where Squall's head should have been continued to gaze at her. Confused, Rinoa eased forward, murmuring to Angelo and hoping she wouldn't bark again. Angelo whined and, kicking her hind feet against Squall for leverage, flipped onto her back for a tummy rub as Rinoa quietly felt her way across the space to the side of the bed. She shifted her attention to the green eyes, letting Angelo lick her elbow as she scratched the furry stomach. They had to be cat eyes, she decided, but what was Squall doing with a cat on his head?
"Oh, never mind." Too tired to figure it out, Rinoa made her way up the side of the bed and, praying the cat wouldn't be territorial—though if anyone were to be territorial, Squall was her boyfriend—slipped under the covers and snuggled up against Squall's chest. His warmth slowly seeped into her, and she curled into him, resting her head against his chest and inhaling his scent—soap and fresh air and a little bit like fabric softener and leather from his clothes. It was a soothing, familiar scent, and Rinoa sighed contentedly, feeling her tremors slowly calm as the peace of being home wrapped around her.
And even in sleep, Squall turned to her, wrapped his arm around her waist to draw her closer. Even in sleep, he pressed his face to her hair and breathed softly against her. Even in sleep, he spoke her name.
Content and safe, Rinoa closed her eyes and let him hold her.
"Commander. Commander Leonhart, please respond."
The mechanized voice buzzed persistently in his ear, and Squall felt his mind unwillingly dragged to the surface of consciousness through the thick, murky layers of oblivion. He kept his eyes closed, too tired to open them, and cuddled closer to the warm body lying in his arms beside him. He'd nearly gone back to sleep when the voice spoke again, louder and more insistently.
"Commander Leonhart, this is the Headmaster's office. We have a Class Two, Level Six situation that requires your presence promptly. I repeat, Class Two, Level Six in the Headmaster's office."
Squall groaned and rolled over onto his stomach to bury his head in the pillow, his mind too fogged by the need for rest to even consider responding to the order. Someone squeaked in protest as he shifted his weight on top, and Squall jerked fully awake as if jabbed by the pointy end of a Tonberry's Chef's Knife, yanking himself back and off whoever it was lying beneath him. His sudden movements had both animals sprawled over his bed leaping off with a two-toned chorus of grumpy displeasure, but Squall barely registered their protests as he stared down at Rinoa.
"Rinoa?" He rubbed his bleary eyes with one hand, sleep shed as instantly in the face of presumed danger, his mind clicking instantly into action. It was obvious it was her, so there was only one logical comment to make. "Oh. You're back early then." Even if it was glaringly obvious.
It was nearly infuriating how quickly Squall could snap himself into fully-operational awareness—that is, it would have been, had Rinoa had the energy to even reach a state of mild irritation. Instead, she offered him a fuzzy smile, rubbing her eyes with both hands like a sleepy child as Squall propped his weight against his elbows to look down at her. "Good morning, Squall. I hope you don't mind, but I snuck in on you last night. Be my best friend, would you, and lie back down? –But not on top of me this time. I'm cold, and you're hogging all the blankets."
He couldn't help but smile at her and comply, stretching out beside her and tucking her under the dark blue covers. Never much for pleasantries or small talk, Squall contented himself with brushing his fingers over her cheek and watching her finish waking up as his heart settled back to its normal rhythm.
Even after nearly two years together, Rinoa could still steal his breath—and his heart—at the most random of times. He had come far in accepting his feelings for her, but it was still, at times, difficult for him to believe her feelings for him. It was hard to grasp that someone like Rinoa could and did love him—him, Squall Leonhart, of all people. He thought it might always baffle him how they had ever managed to come together as far as they had—her, all love and caring and laughter and stubbornness, and him, filled with doubts and darkness, insecurity and self-loathing. But they had done it, hadn't they? Squall smiled absently and trailed his fingers through Rinoa's hair. They'd gone and forged something deeper than fear, something more lasting than time.
Something stronger than shadows.
"What are you smiling about?" Rinoa's gentle question drew Squall's attention back to reality and the present, and he glanced down to meet her warm, inquisitive gaze. "What is it?"
He shook his head, unable to voice aloud his most precious thoughts, even to her, and tilted her face up to his in a kiss that had her sighing sweetly against his lips. "Good morning, Rinoa. If I'd known you were coming, I'd have turned the thermostat up," he commented as she snuggled up against him. "When did you get in?"
Rinoa could guess immediately where this conversation would end, but there wasn't anything she could do to avoid it, so she merely sighed and hugged him to her, pressing her cheek against his chest to listen to his heartbeat, so steady and strong. "About four. Angelo barked a couple times, and you woke up but didn't see me."
There was a slight pause as Squall recalled the memory. "Oh, yeah, that. Your dog goes pee more often than anything." Then came the inevitable. "How did you get here from Balamb? Did Zell drive you over?"
Anticipating Squall's reaction, Rinoa let her arms drop loosely from around his waist. "No, I didn't want to bother him so late—so early, I suppose. I took a taxi."
And true to her predictions, Squall pulled back to frown down at her, stern consternation in his midnight blue eyes. "You took a cab in the middle of the night? Alone? Don't you know how dangerous that can be, especially for women? You don't have any idea what kind of guy you'll get as a driver, or what he might try to do." If Squall were prone to wide hand gestures, he might have waved one in the air to indicate any number of illicit acts a taxi cab driver would attempt with a pretty young woman traveling unaccompanied.
Instead he watched disappointment fill Rinoa's eyes even as a frown crossed her face. His concern was touching, but, seriously, Rinoa had her limits. And besides…"How do you know it was a man?"
Squall wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't. "Did you have a female driver?"
Now Rinoa's frown turned into a pout. "Well, no, but that's beside the point."
"The point," Squall stressed, "is that you shouldn't do things like that because it's dangerous. You just never know what other people might do."
Now it was Rinoa's turn to roll her eyes, and she wasn't quite as inhibited as Squall in refraining from doing so in front of his face. "Really, Squall, that's the sort of attitude that wins you no friends. And I know how to defend myself, even if the cabby were some sort of lecherous monster whose sole existence was to prey on young women who wander the streets at night armed to the teeth. I was careful to approach a decent-looking driver, and he wasn't drunk, so it wasn't like we were going to get in a car accident." She felt vaguely like she were a teenager again, arguing with her father over a late-night return from an outing with her friends. "Besides, do you think I wouldn't know better than to put myself in a potentially harmful situation without being prepared?" He didn't reply, and Rinoa looked away. His silence hurt, even if she understood, rationally, that he couldn't have done anything else.
He was, after all, just Squall.
"We don't have time to fight about this now," she added, keeping her eyes averted as she gently pushed him away. "Didn't you get some sort of summons from Cid? You should leave."
"Yeah. I'm going." Squall flipped back the covers and got out of bed, turning to tuck Rinoa back in. His eyes were soft and shy as his voice as he said, "I'm not mad at you, Rinoa. I just missed you so much, and I'm glad you came to me when you got back."
And, leaving her too stunned to respond to his sudden and unexpected confession, Squall turned and fled into the bathroom.
Rinoa was still sitting in the same position when he came back out, rubbing a towel over his damp hair. Squall glanced at her, then turned his attention to pulling his clothes out of the closet.
She spoke to his back as he dressed. "I'm not mad at you, either, Squall, and I understand your concern about me traveling alone. But I'm not fragile, and I'm not helpless. You have to trust me to be able to take care of myself."
"I do trust you." Squall deliberately finished fixing his belts around his hips before turning to face her. "I just don't want anything to happen to you."
Surprised and pleased by his honest answer, Rinoa pulled her legs up, hugging them to her chest, and smiled. "You're so sweet, Squall. My very own lion-hearted warrior-knight. And you see? You didn't die by saying what you felt." There was nothing Squall, being Squall, could say in response, so he merely turned back to the closet to dig out a shirt and pull it on. Rinoa leaned back against the headboard of Squall's regulation-standard bed, indulging herself in the pleasure of watching him move—all fluid motion and catlike grace. She spoke to fill the space, knowing Squall wanted to hear the details of her trip even if he would never ask himself.
"The mayor gave a nice little speech about Timber's history and future, and the president of Galbadia was there, too, at the ceremony. It was good of him to be there for the second anniversary celebration of our independence." Rinoa smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before tugging on the blankets to smooth them out. "Oh, and afterwards, Zone and Watts and I went out and had a little get-together party of our own. We went to this cute little bar beside the hotel and had a lot of fun, just talking about old times. Don't worry, I didn't drink much. Too bad I can't say the same about Zone and Watts, though. They were both so wasted by the end, they were singing and dancing on the bar counter. They were pretty good, too, you know. Zone said it was a shame you weren't there, Commander," she added with a sly smirk over at him. "They said they'd have loved to hear you sing with them. 'Moonlight Apocalypse' always sounds better when sung by a drunken trio than a drunken duo."
Squall winced at the title of the popular and raunchy ballad about a promiscuous outlaw and his wild midnight escapades, and Rinoa laughed at his reaction. He walked over to her, tapping a finger on her nose and leaning over so they were eye to eye. "I have better taste than that, Princess, and don't be holding your breath on that one, either. Hey. And when have you been serenaded by drunken trios?" She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him, and Squall eased back, reaching for his gunblade to strap to his leg. "I have to go see what the Headmaster wants now. I'll meet you in the cafeteria for breakfast afterwards?" His voice rose subtly on a question, and Rinoa nodded. "The usual, then. Seven-thirty."
"It's a date." Rinoa was laughing as she reached out and caught Squall by the two belts crossed over his hips, giving him a firm yank back to her as he turned to leave. "Not so fast, Leonhart." She locked her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly, feeling the thrill whip through her even as she used her mouth and tongue to seduce him. Rinoa drew away only when she felt his heartbeat speed up, his arms coming around her to hold her close, tugging gently on his bottom lip with her teeth. She smiled sleepily at him, her eyes filled with a lazy contentedness, and patted his cheek affectionately. "Have a good meeting, honey."
It was quite a powerful feeling to see Squall completely and utterly lost, his eyes blank and dazed, as he pressed his lips together and took a wobbly step backwards. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure. Okay. Bye." He moved to the door, as if lost in a fog, and rammed his knee smartly into the doorframe. "Ouch." Rinoa had to stifle a giggle as he left the room, closing the door behind him without another word.
Squall wasn't the only one capable of stunning beyond words the one he cared for most.
He had shaken off most of his shock by the time he'd entered the elevator and requested the uppermost level. That early in the morning, most students were either still asleep or just waking up, and Squall looked out the tinted glass walls of the elevator at the still, sleeping Garden. It was sort of creepy to see the great building so empty, like a great, breathing beast; but at the same time, Squall enjoyed the peace.
It had been over two years since they'd defeated Ultimecia and brought harmony to their planet of Hollow Bastion, and Squall was thankful that the chaos was over and put to rest for good.
He was tired of fighting.
The hallway to the Headmaster's office was eerily still, but Squall strode forward almost without noticing it, his mind automatically switching to Commander mode as he entered the reception area.
Nida, Headmaster Cid's hard-working secretary, filing cabinet, and walking memory bank all in one, looked up from his computer and grinned at Squall. "Hey, good morning, Commander. There's coffee over there—" he gestured to the wall where a table was invariably stocked with refreshments "—if you want. If you could give the Headmaster a few minutes before going in? He'll be ready to see you soon."
Squall fixed Nida with a look. It might have been despairing, it might have been reproving. Rinoa described it best as his "Commander Squall Death Glare", and, privately, Squall thought it was pretty accurate. "You know me better than that, Nida. If you're going to wake me up at six o'clock in the morning, you should be ready to go when I get here." He flicked a hand at Nida over his shoulder as he headed for the closed door to Cid's office.
Nida hopped to his feet but didn't try risking his life by lunging after Squall to try to stop him. "Squall, wait. You might not want to—" The door swung shut, and Nida winced, dropping back down into his chair and casting a baleful stare at the empty space where Squall had been a moment earlier, muttering, "Well, don't say I didn't warn you."
Squall had taken three long strides towards the Headmaster's desk before he realized what Nida had been trying to tell him.
Cid and his wife Edea stood together by the window, lost in an intimate embrace that had Squall very nearly blushing. They were so obviously in love it was embarrassing just to be near them, and Squall had to stop himself before he shuffled his feet uneasily as both adults turned to face him.
Cid left one arm around Edea's slim waist and smiled distractedly at Squall, and the young Commander had the distinct pang that he had looked exactly the same leaving his bedroom only minutes earlier. "Prompt as always, Squall, though today I'd go as far to say you're here really early. Is something wrong?"
Squall was used to the Headmaster's absent-mindedness, and he caught the sympathetic glance Edea cast his way. Even after all these years, she was the same as he remembered her—or thought he remembered—from his childhood. Tall, slender, elegant—'regal', Irvine had said once, and Squall tended to agree—she was sort of pretty, too, even though she was old enough to be his mother.
"You called him here, dear," Edea reminded her husband before Squall could speak, winking secretly at him as she guided Cid to his desk. "Remember? Something about Class Two, Level Six."
"Oh, of course." Cid blinked, perplexed, over his glasses, moving to sit down behind his desk and gesturing for Squall to take one of the chairs facing him. "Sit down, Squall. Thank you for coming right away." Squall hesitated, then did as Cid said, deciding that he didn't need to mention the twenty-minute delay—not quite as 'right away' as he could have managed, really.
But Cid was already continuing. "You know we run junior trainee classes for children under ten—of course you know, you're Commander." Cid gave a baffled little laugh and shot a glance at his wife, standing unobtrusively beside his desk, in a way that made Squall want to squirm in his seat. "I'm more scatter-brained than normal this morning. Please forgive me."
Squall concentrated on not feeling the overwhelming queasiness in his stomach. He had no one to blame but himself for barging in on them like he had. Hadn't Nida tried to warn him?
But it was infinitely more satisfying to hold Nida responsible for not speaking quickly enough.
Squall made himself focus again on what Cid was saying. "…is the normal instructor, but she was called away unexpectedly last night due to a family emergency back at Trabia Garden." He named the recently-completed SeeD training center in what Squall secretly thought of as the godforsaken frozen wasteland of the far north.
"I was, unfortunately, not informed of this development before we adjourned our debriefing meeting last night and only found out myself when I received a call earlier this morning. The new session begins today—this morning, in fact, at nine. We could, of course, call for an emergency replacement from the nearest Garden. Quistis is at Galbadia, isn't she? Her name is on top of the on-call list for substitute instructors, but I'm afraid it's such short notice."
Frowning a little, Squall flipped through his mental files. "There are no substitutes on grounds? Xu isn't teaching this semester, nor are Vincent or Aki."
"Yes, yes." Cid tapped his glasses up on his nose and peered at the papers in front of him. "Vincent is on temporary probation and will be appearing in front of the Disciplinary Board at the end of this week for a rather, ah, lewd and drunken display at a Balamb bar last week. Aki just had knee surgery done and will be unable to teach until the fall session. And Xu is on maternity leave through the summer."
"Oh. Right." Squall had forgotten about that. And why hadn't he been appraised of Vincent Hafor's probation earlier? "And they were the only substitutes?"
Cid consulted his notes. "It seems that way. We were stretched a little thin this semester—we had to add another two classes to accommodate the increase in enrollment. Or was that last year?"
"You're correct, dear, it was this year." Edea smiled fondly at Cid, and Squall was struck incongruously with what an odd couple the two made. Beautiful and mysterious Edea and dumpy, somewhat bumbling Cid. Sorceress and knight. But they made it work, somehow, despite and around everything else that had happened.
They had made it work, hadn't they?
Squall caught himself drifting and snapped himself back. Maybe he should have had some of that coffee, after all.
"In any case." Cid flapped his hands in the air in some sort of indication. Of what, Squall wasn't quite sure. "We have no available qualified SeeD instructors on our on-call list. I could try to put a request in to Galbadia, but…"
"Bureaucrats and their paperwork," Edea smiled fondly at Squall with a maternal sort of gentleness that made him nearly as uncomfortable as her earlier intimacy with her husband. "We can't really hope that Galbadia would be willing or able to send over an instructor, even for a temporary basis, even if we were to offer to take your Ragnarok and pick him or her up. I'm sorry, but there just aren't any other options, Commander." Squall blinked, momentarily confused by her strange form of address—Edea never used his proper title, unless…
Squall goggled, first at Edea, then at the Headmaster. Both gazed back at him apologetically, and Squall slumped back in the chair in shock.
And said the first thing that came to mind.
"Well, shit."
6.26.05