Hey all! Yeah, I'm back, and it's another cute romancy chapter - but it's one that (finally?) links us back to the action plot. And, by the way, the reactions of the newer SeeDs in this story are all mostly spawned from seeing my own air cadet section about to fly for the first time. The look on my own face must have been priceless, I know - in the air force, and I'm afraid of heights. But that's an aside.

This hasn't been read by my darling yet, so... as always, there may be an edit later. She hasn't been pointing out anything recently, so, either I'm getting better or she's getting lazy.

Seifer POV

I always used to like getting out of Garden occasionally when I was in training here, and I still like it now, especially walking at Squall's side. We came out here together sometimes then, too, to have the occasional 'friendly' spar.

About as friendly as a pack of wolves, but we never intended to hurt each other.

He holds Hyperion out to me. "I thought you might like a short sparring match in practice for later."

"I don't need practice." I take it from him anyway. "Are you going to quit taking Hyperion off me now?"

"I think I've said that to you before. And your answer was some crap about everyone needing to practice. And it's Quistis's fault, if I got my way we wouldn't have taken Hyperion from you in the first place."

"Steady there, princess." I offer him a smile. "One, I'm the exception that proves the rule, and two, I didn't say I wouldn't practice with you."

He gives me one of his looks, pulling out Lionheart. "Then you will?"

"Of course. You've always been my favourite sparring partner."

"I wonder why," he murmurs, rolling his eyes and stepping into a ready stance.

It's easy to fall into a rhythm with him. Taunt him until he charges, side step and counter slash. Gunblades meet, push the lighter body back, lock the blades together for some minutes before spinning away, slashing again and meeting with a flurry of sparks.

There's nothing to match a good fight. Well, maybe a good orgasm, but you get my general point. The adrenaline, the concentration, the knowledge of having a worthy opponent – there's nothing quite like that.

Squall's face is quite the sight to see, as well. He can't always keep his barriers up, especially not when concentrating on a fight as much as he is this one. His eyes are intense, seething with emotion. If only I had the time to stop and look into them. He wouldn't let me, though, and by the time this fight is over and we're both sweating, panting for breath and chilled by the breeze, he'll have closed down again.

It's a pity. But I can think of one other way to get him looking like that. Something I should try, someday soon…

I curse silently as he gains the advantage, forcing me back a little. No time to daydream, Almasy. Squall will never spar at half strength to accommodate you.

He seems to know what I'm thinking, his mouth curving up into a smile that is almost a smirk. Probably he thinks it is a smirk. He's not too gifted with facial expressions, it has to be said.

A clash, and a scrape and whine of metal and we're face to face again, locked in position, so close with the blades between our bodies that I could kiss him.

"To hell with sparring," I breathe to him, trying not to shatter the moment as I pull back, separating the two blades.

"Can't concentrate?" he asks with a knowing smile.

"My sparring partner is too damn hot for his own good." I smirk right back at him, putting Hyperion down carefully.

I catch the faintest hint of embarrassment from him as he puts Lionheart down with a little ring of metal against stone. "Whatever."

I find a comfortable spot to sit and beckon him. He comes willingly enough, sitting down near me, but not near enough. So, naturally, I move closer and hug him from behind so that he's sitting between my legs.

He sighs softly and leans back against me a little, not saying a word. I rub my nose against his hair, tightening my arms around him.

"Do you mind doing things like this?"

"No," he says, and the tone of his voice tells me he's raised an eyebrow in his 'whatever do you mean' expression.

I think there's such thing as knowing him too well.

"Just, you never seemed to like people touching you."

He snorts softly, "I let you kiss me but I wouldn't let you hold me? Both involve touching."

"True." I shake my head at his logic. Always cool headed to the point of indifference. "But do you like me touching you?"

There's a slightly longer pause. I guess he struggles with embarrassment or with lack of words to say it. I almost don't catch the slight nod, but he clarifies it instantly anyway. "Yeah, I do."

I bring my hand up, tracing his lips gently, and I can feel his smile against my fingers as he kisses them lightly.

I hold him quietly for a few minutes more, maybe longer, I don't know. It's nice to be outside, the heat of his body – so warm, for one outwardly so cold – keeping the chill of the breeze from me. And nice, of course, to have him in my arms. I never thought it would be like this between us... but I like it.

"We should go inside," he says, after a while. "I need to pick up some things."

I just tighten my arms around him, nuzzling his neck and nibbling gently on his earlobe. "Do we have to?"

He gasps softly, distracted, but still pushes away from me and stands, a little teasing grin on his face. "Never pictured you being the cuddly type."

"Takes the right person and boom, I'm an instant romantic."

"Am I the right person?" he asks, half shyly, his eyelashes lowering a little, his amazing eyes looking up at me through them.

"I think you know that already," I give him a lopsided grin and that faint hint of embarrassment takes over his face again.

"Idiot," he tells me. But he doesn't mean it.

Quistis POV

Squall and Seifer come in together, both looking relaxed – Seifer wearing a grin on his face. They've obviously been outside, and both are carrying their gunblades openly. Ah, perhaps they've been sparring then.

I stand up, salute almost out of habit. Squall waves it away with a roll of his eyes. "Everyone ready?"

Medea, the young SeeD, and her little group stand, eager to be off. Zell grins, punching the air with all his usual energy, and Selphie bounces, letting go of Irvine for perhaps the first time since he arrived.

"Let's go! I'm gonna pilot the Ragnarok!"

"That's a thing to fear," Zell explains to Medea and her group, "But don't worry, she won't crash it. She hasn't yet, anyway."

The girl and her team look a little pale, but Squall smiles his faintly reassuring smile at them and they straighten, determined not to look weak in front of Squall.

It's odd. He's so cold, so indifferent, and yet people are so strongly drawn to him. Me, Rinoa, the students, the SeeDs… even Seifer seems to be. It makes Squall one hell of a good leader.

And he doesn't even really realise it. He doesn't know why people love him so much. Why people fall in love with him. Why I love him.

Maybe he doesn't even know that people do love him.

But we do, and some fools would follow him whether he knows it or not – I'm numbering myself among them, of course. I think if he asked me to follow him to hell, I would, and not just because I love him. I think he'd lead me back, too. I think a lot of SeeDs would say the same.

Squall just can't get rid of that fact. He's a good commander.

It surprises me, as we head out to the Ragnarok, how close he and Seifer are. They're talking together in softer voices – not whispering, but having a normal, quiet conversation.

Normal isn't a word I usually associate with either of my former students.

Selphie is bouncy as always, coming back a little to link her arm with mine, "Something wrong, Quisty?"

"No, why?"

"You look sad," she frowns, pulling back to look at me a little. A teasing note enters her voice, and I appreciate the effort as she tries to cheer me up. "Surely my piloting of the Ragnarok isn't that bad a prospect?"

"Selphie…" I just sigh softly.

"Something really is up, huh?" She gives me a look filled with pity. "If you wanna talk, I'm always willing!"

"Thanks."

"No problem! Don't like to see anyone sad!" She's grinning such a happy, honest grin. I'd swear that girl has sunshine all her life, but that would be demeaning her part in SeeD and battles and so on. She makes it look easy and happy, though.

It's a typical mission atmosphere once we get to the Ragnarok. Selphie skips off to pilot, taking Irvine with her; Squall and Seifer disappear off somewhere and I sit… waiting. Thinking. Too much. Medea and her little group are here too, but they hardly say a word, tense with the strain of a mission.

They'll learn. Soon missions will mean practically nothing to them.

"Where did Squall and Seifer go?" Zell asks me, coming in from wherever he's been haunting. He looks at me, tilts his head. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I stand up. He wouldn't understand what I mean about feeling… unneeded. As if I only exist to Squall when he is giving me orders. As if, outside of missions, I feel as if I mean nothing to everybody.

"Okay…" He gives me an odd look, but shrugs, throwing himself down into a seat. "Where did Squall and Seifer slip off to? They'd better not be 'practising' gunblades on the Ragnarok, I'm sure we can all do without bloodstains…"

I doubt they've been fighting, but I want to talk to Squall sometime before the mission anyway. "I'll go and find them."

"Have fun." He waves a hand nonchalantly, sprawling in his seat. The silence in the room, Zell being lazy and the other, lower ranking SeeDs silent and tense, makes the hiss of the door sound loud as it opens and closes behind me.