So I've been on an extremely long vacation, sorry! I just couldn't find the strength to go on anymore, but I guess a half-finished work is really bad. scraping self off the floor Here we go…

Disclaimer: FFVIII is not mine, never will.

"…How is he?"

"Unconscious but stable. A model patient."

"Ze larynx waz a masterpiece! He vill be able to talk again after a month of therapy, I assure you."

"…I'm betting he's gonna talk before the week is out."

"Don't be flippant, Kiros. He never did talk much, did he?"

"Ey… ze operationz were a success. Now come into my office and we'll discuss payment."

Yuna reluctantly followed the runty genius out of the room, leaving Kiros and an underling in the room.

Kiros studied the sleeping man lying on the bed. In two weeks he had more or less regained some color and no longer looked like a skeleton, but Kiros still severely doubted his fighting skills. Five years is a long time, long enough to make one forget a lot of things. Perhaps Quistis is expecting too much…

His ears prickled and he instantly focused – his gaze settling on a pair of sharp, unsettling eyes. Eyes that were glaring sternly at him.

"Good morning," Kiros said pleasantly. "How're you feeling?"

Squall scowled as much as he could, which was quite a feat considering he was still under sedation. The fact that he was awake so fast was testament to his iron stubbornness.

"Don't try to move just yet, we don't want the skin graft on your back to tear before it has a chance to set," Kiros continued smoothly. "In fact, we'll have to insist you don't move at all for 24 hours. So you can either spend that time knocked out or awake. Your choice."

His choice was evident, though Kiros know he loathed being an invalid. Grinning, Kiros looked up to see Yuna return. "Finished?"

"Yes, I – oh you're awake," Yuna nodded to Squall before returning her attention back to Kiros. "Sis ordered to have him moved back to the mansion as soon as he feels well enough."

"He says he's well enough now," Kiros said humorously and Yuna smiled. "Is he?"

Squall's look clearly said 'Don't mess with me, kid.'

Yuna smiled and politely excused herself as her phone rang. "Yes?"

"Hey, beautiful," A warm voice made her laugh. "Tidus!"

"Busy?" His cheerful voice never failed to light her day. She pondered for a while. "Not today, I don't think so. Why?"

"Well I'm thinking of a romantic dinner…"

Yuna laughed, but somewhat regretfully. "I'm sorry Tidus, but I can't leave the mansion right now… why don't you come over for dinner?" She brightened up. "I'll cook!"

Tidus laughed. "Okay, Is your sister joining us?"

"Nope, she's not around. Just you me and Rikku… if you want Rikku around, that is."

"Alright, see you at 9," Tidus laughed again and Yuna cut the line with a happy smile.

But Yuna's expectations were off track this time. Quistis did come back later that afternoon, just as suddenly as she had left. The Ragnarok landed on the pad in a riot of flowers and grass, and Kiros scrambled out of the house to greet her.

Quistis stepped out of the jet, her suit flapping in the wind. "Madame," Kiros bowed quickly and quickly fell behind her as they walked back to the mansion. Without requiring any questions, Kiros quickly reeled off what happened in her absence even when he knew she already knew. "Lawrence Elngelret from Chemist Industries ordered a large shipment or morphine, but we couldn't okay – "

"Okay it." She replied briskly, eyes scanning the perimeter of the manor.

"Right. Crustine of West End and Julient deposited this month's earnings, roughly five mil – "

"Five million three hundred and seventy thousand and fifteen cents." Quistis interrupted briskly. "The bank had called me as usual. How is he?"

"Recovering," Kiros supplied wearily. "And as grumpy as usual. We're now working on therapy."

"Physical therapy first," Quistis ordered. "His speech therapy is not important to me. I want him to be in shape as soon as possible."

"Don't worry, he's itching to hit something," Kiros said wryly and blinked as Quistis walked in the direction of the museum building. "Where are you going?"

"Talk with the curator."

"…Aren't you going to – "

"No, I'm not. I left him in your hands, so you're taking care of him for now," She said, a hint of irritation edging her tone. "Didn't I make myself clear the first time, Kiros!"

His blood froze at her rising voice. He quickly muttered an apology and scurried away.

He must have been paler that he thought, because Rikku promptly grabbed his shoulders when he stepped inside the building. "Where are they?" She demanded and he fixed her a bewildered look. "Where's who?"

"The people who threatened to kill you if you say a word about their whereabouts."

Kiros was torn between relieved laughter and unmitigated scorn. He finally settled on a bored expression instead. "Your imagination will one day get the best of you, Rikku. There are no intruders, only your sister has returned and scared me witless."

"She still can do that to you, huh?" Rikku arched an eyebrow and let go of his shoulders. "She's back? Where is she? Wait, let me guess; the office."

"Unfortunately you missed that," Kiros said dryly. "She went to see the curator, and from the way she talked to me I suggest you keep low until she calls for you."

"Whoa…that bad?"

Quistis settled herself into the chair opposite the curator's desk and waited patiently for the man to find some papers. Truance kept on a steady chatter even though she did not respond – perhaps simply an urge to break the chilly silence.

"Several paintings by Goya had been recovered from a private collector in Centra," he said amiably. "We had to pay a high price for them, but I understood your orders are to obtain them at all costs."

"What about 'In the Garden Sleeps a Messenger'?" Quistis inquired and Truance smiled nervously. "Ah… Viviradium et Intervigilium et Viator… unfortunately the current owner refuses to part with it, and we are reluctant to use force since he is a quite powerful man. However with your permission I will – "

"Not necessary," Quistis said evenly. "I'll have the Night Angel do it."

"Certainly, Madame. As you wish," Truance tried to keep the discomfort from his voice. The Night Angel is one of Madame's men that specialized in 'lifting' items… be it as small as a vial of bacteria to as large as a Boeing 747. "But Madame, if I may… the painting is very renowned and should we suddenly procure it through him, it will be certain theft. I am sure that is not your intention."

"Please save your worries," Quistis got up from her chair. "If you will give me the details of that stubborn collector, I will take care of it, Truance. Good day,"

"Sis?" Yuna blinked at her sister, standing under the archway. Quistis lifted one fine brow as she sized up the brunette. An apron and a spatula in hand? Not to mention the smell of something burning… and Quina sitting in front of the television, enjoying a cup of tea.

"Eheh…." Yuna laughed sheepishly. "Um, I didn't expect you to be back so soon… and I invited Tidus over for dinner since I can't leave the house… and I promised I'd cook. Um…"

Refraining from sighing, Quistis dared to look in the kitchen and mentally winced. "Yuna?"

"Yes sis?"

"Go out for dinner."

"Okay. Um, thanks!"

Quistis stifled the desire to bang her head against the wall.

"Aahhh… this is life. The bright sun," he gestured to the shining globe above; "The pristine sands, the crushing waves – "

" – And the girls in skimpy bikinis?" The black-haired female accused critically, glaring at him over designer shades.

"Of course the girls in skimpy bikinis," he grinned raucously. "Which reminds me Garnet darling…why aren't you in one?"

Garnet Til Alexandros, heiress to the vast Alexandros estate merely huffed. "And show that scar on my stomach? Fat chance, Zidane."

"No fat, I'm sure of that," he playfully poked her side. "You're as thin as a rake."

"Zidane!"

"Zidane."

While Garnet's cry was more of amused outrage, the second one promptly killed the atmosphere. Twisting around, Zidane made a grab for his phone. Hastily flipping it open, he knew who it was before he even looked. He quickly cleared his throat. "Madame Trepe!" He greeted cheerfully, but as expected, it wasn't returned. "Am I interrupting?" She asked evenly and Zidane quickly shook his head. "Nah, just chillin' out with Dagger."

Garnet made no comment to his nickname for her. In fact it was her codename when she worked with him, and Madame Trepe preferred to call her by that. 'To avoid slips,' she had said.

"I have a job for you," Good ol' Trepe, always straight to the point. But he knew her; she would not call for him unless it was a job suitable for his level of thievery.

"Shoot," Zidane sat cross-legged on his deck chair with Dagger looking over his shoulder.

"I've taken interest in the 'Viviradium et Intervigilium et Viator'… unfortunately it is a very well-know piece of work and is currently in the hands of a rather unscrupulous art collector in Deling," Quistis said calmly. "I don't care how you do it, but make it so that when the painting reaches me, I will not be burdened by the problems of a major art theft. Is it clear?"

"You're leaving out plenty of details," Zidane pointed out wryly.

"I leave it to you to find out what you need to know. I suggest taking Dagger along; she may be a useful decoy."

"Hell… how much are you offering me for this?"

Quistis seemed in thought. "Nine million gil."

"Sheesh. I'll take it, and a return trip to Winhill. Dagger's been pestering me about it."

"Done." The line was quickly cut.

Zidane grinned. "Big fat money coming, yeah!"

Kiros watched as Squall slowly swung his feet over the side of the bed and gingerly flex his shoulders. "Okay?"

Squall nodded. Kiros voicelessly wiped his brow and contemplated the man sitting in front of him. A week? No, two days and he's sitting up. Another day and he could move his entire body with tolerable discomfort.

A frightening man, he is.

Kiros watched as Squall performed some arm stretching, careful not to strain himself too much. Although his larynx is more or less ready, he had only tested making a sound once – and then never uttered a sound again. Maybe it's still painful to speak right now, after all the larynx still needs time to settle.

Another surprise was when he reported Squall's progress to Quistis, the woman merely nodded. When Kiros suggested that he be advised to slow down a little, she had rejected it firmly, saying that he knows himself best. And she also wanted him up and about as soon as possible.

Kiros could guess what she was planning. With Squall at full strength, his hatred towards Seifer will conveniently give Quistis an edge. Never mind that the two of them don't even know each other; united hatred can be a useful bridge that would lead to the demise of Seifer.

"Think you're strong enough to go for a walk?" Kiros asked and Squall experimented taking a small step forward. The effort obviously hurt, but he braced himself against a wall and nodded. Kiros took a walker and motioned to Squall. "When you think you want to practice, use this. Neither me nor Yuna is going to be around today, so you'll have to call for the servants if you need anything."

Squall lifted an eyebrow slightly and Kiros found himself answering the unsaid question; "Quistis sent her on a job, and I have to attend to...matters."

It wasn't until he left the room and shut the door did Kiros' legs finally give way. It struck him how similar his piercing gaze so resembled Quistis.

He was not going to lie around any more. He wanted desperately to get out of this prison, but logic dictates that if one wants to walk, one must learn to crawl first. Carefully holding onto the wall, Squall painfully took a step, then another. One step at a time, he thought mentally. One step at a time, he will crush that bastard, rip out his guts and slice it up before his eyes. Oh the pleasure...

He finally made it to the door and he reached for it, eyes gleaming in triumph when it swung open on its own.

Rikku nearly yelped in surprise, but instinct kicked in and she glared venomously at the startled man instead. "What are you doing up so early? You're supposed-to-be-in-bed!" She snapped, turning him around (while ignoring his pained expression) and pushing him back to the bed. "Yuna's not around, Kiros' not around so I'm stuck with you for the afternoon, jerk."

His wry look told her he wasn't thrilled either. Huffing, Rikku flopped down on the sofa and switched on the TV. "Don't even think of leaving." She said aloud. "You can practice your baby steps in here."

Squall narrowed his eyes, mentally noting that when he regains his strength, the blonde will be the first to eat her words.

Even though Rikku gave the impression that she was watching television, half her attention was on the man sitting at the table patiently flipping cards in his fingers. At first he had stumbled, but gradually the cards flowed easily in his hands. Finishing with the cards, he moved on to coins. She couldn't understand it – was he being stupid?

Unable to stand it any longer, she flipped over and looked at him over the back of the couch. "What are you doing?"

He simply ignored her and continued to flip the coin between his fingers, watching as the coin flowed between one finger and the next. Incensed, Rikku drew a knife and swiftly threw it –

Only to have him catch it between his index and middle finger.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Wh – "

Squall calmly inspected the knife from hilt to tip. Satisfied, he threw it back to her and she deftly caught it, eyes narrowed. Nobody – nobody (except Quistis) had ever managed to catch her knives before and made it look like she had simply been throwing a Frisbee.

This time he began to stack the cards to make a card-tower. She watched, fascinated as the tower gradually rose from the table top. At a point when he was no longer able to place them without craning his neck, he demolished the cards and got to his feet.

He's going to practice walking, Rikku noted with interest. The skin grafts on his legs and back prevented him from standing upright, so he walked with hunched steps. He walked to the door, and then followed the wall back to the table. He did this a few more times before the effort wore him down and he sat on the chair, panting from the effort.

Rikku stood up and perched her hip against the back of the couch. "Why are you doing this?"

He looked up at her.

"As a matter of fact, why is Sis doing this? I don't understand her." Rikku said angrily. "All of us bear scars made by you. Mine is still bleeding. Sis above all should know that!" She lowered her head. "I hated you," She said quietly. "I still do. But I can't do anything about it, because although you took away my family, Sis saved me." She looked at him with hatred burning in her eyes. "I'll never forgive you."

He calmly held her gaze. I'll never ask for it.

The door swung open and Rikku looked towards the door before standing properly. "Sis?"

Quistis stood in the doorway and looked at them for a moment. Rikku got the message. She silently left and Quistis closed the door behind her.

Squall watched wearily and Quistis approached him and stood a few feet away, her expression unreadable. They remained like this for a few seconds, neither finding it necessary to move.

"Kiros told me you can move now," She said finally. He merely stared at her.

"You'll begin training next week," She continued and reached into her pocket before coming over and putting something on the table. "That's yours."

And without a further word, she left the room.

Squall stared in disbelief at the necklace, not quite sure what to make of it.

"Keep it," He placed it in her palm and closed her fingers around it. She looked at him, uncomprehending. Why was he giving it to her? "Storm, what's going on?"

"Keep it safe," He had said. "I trust you with it."

He trusted her with everything he had. When he was caught, he had nothing, and feared nothing. Everything was with Lulu now. So why… how did Quistis get the necklace?

Quistis leant against his door, eyes hooded. Outside, a light drizzle was falling, a gauzy curtain shrouding the world.

"I don't know who else to turn to." She was drenched, water dripping steadily on the carpet. "I don't know what to do anymore…"

Quistis stared at her, something like pity in her eyes. "What do you want me to do, Lulu," She had asked gently. "I can only give you so much protection."

Lulu looked at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. "…I can't trust anyone else," She had whispered. "Storm he – he said you and he were the same." She looked up desperately.

Quistis lowered her eyes. The commotion over the execution had not died down yet and the underworld was unruly. With the execution of the most notorious killer in the world, there are hopefuls who want to be called the next 'Storm'.

"He did, did he…?" Quistis whispered absently and reached a conclusion. "I'll try my best to help you, Lulu."

The older woman nearly burst into grateful tears. "Thank you," She whispered before getting up and putting something on the table. "He told me to keep it safe," Lulu said, her voice unsteady. "But I can't… I don't have the power to."

Quistis picked up the necklace, the silver pendant gleaming in the light.

"He valued it more than his life. It's everything he has," Lulu's voice dropped to a whisper. "Take care of him for me, Quistis. Everything he's every worked for, everything... in your hands."

And I'll give it back, she thought as she pushed away from the door and walked down the hall. She will give him back everything she had kept safe – she will return the world to him.

A/N: Aannnd there it is, i finally managed to put up the chapter that's been rotting on my pc for so long. A few suggestions on what you think might happen after this will be much appreciated - I might actually incorporate your ideas into the existing storyline. Reviews, please?