Disclaimer: FF8 and whatnot belongs to Square Enix (Are they still Square Enix?). Eh, anyways.

Warnings: Language, general confusion.

I would like to thank Redrum (you all know her) for reading over this chapter and making corrections, giving advice, etc. Basically making my life a tiny bit easier. Thanks much! Appreciate it.

Sorry for the wait. I spent quite a lot of time writing a segment involving Caraway, which I eventually decided to remove because it just didn't fit. Also, Zell was being mean to me, so his segment was shortened as well. Sorry bout all that.

Also, if the formatting is screwed up, blame quickedit. I'll try to fix it.

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Seifer

I am so pissed right now. Nothing is going right for me, nothing at all. The orientation was a joke, it was more like a question and answer session on my entire life. Honestly, Caraway asked everything possible aside from my bowel movements; maybe he would have asked that, if he had thought of it.

I thought it was going to be a simple routine of him telling me what to do, but of course it wasn't. Why should anything be easy for me? And to make matters worse, I get yet another 'buddy'. Someone named Zell, or something. He's supposed to be 'fun' and 'energetic'. According to Squall, "He's just loud."

Squall has been avoiding me ever since I told him about Zell, and it's seriously ticking me off. Right now he's holed up in his room, talking to his precious Rinoa. Probably more wedding plans, or phone sex, or whatever the fuck it is that happily engaged people talk about.

I point the remote control at the TV and press the button harder than needed, scowling at the screen. Six hundred channels and there's nothing on. It really defeats the purpose of cable TV. I click it off and toss the remote on the coffee table, leaning my head back on the couch.

I frown at the ceiling, trying to think of something to do that will get my mind off things for a while. If it had been three years ago, I would go to Squall, grab the phone from him, toss it in the corner and have wild sex. Unfortunately, that would cause problems now, so basically I'm screwed. Or

not, I guess.

Just as I'm considering throwing myself off the balcony, Squall's door opens and the dog runs out. I push him off me as he tries to jam his wet and cold nose in my face and hold him at arms length. Stupid dog is grinning at me. Drooling and everything. Ugh.

Squall goes to hang up the phone and then walks into the living room, curling himself up on the armchair. He stares off into space, his eyes slightly unfocused, and even I can't figure out what he's thinking. Finally he speaks.

"Where am I supposed to get one?"

Ah, the joys of talking to a man lost in his head and thinking he's having a

conversation with me when he's not speaking a damn thing. "Come again?"

"That wouldn't work. . ."

Great. Sometimes it's fun to mess with him, but right now I don't feel like it.

"Yo. Squall."

"He won't work. . ."

"Who, Laguna?"

"God, no." Squall's face scrunches up slightly.

I shake my head and stand up, figuring I'd get a drink. I smack him lightly in the head as I walk past him, sniggering as he comes back to reality with a start.

"So, Squall," I start, popping open a can of soda. "What are you trying to get?"

He blinks, confused, and then it clicks. ". . .A best man."

My neck spasms, causing my head to jerk towards my shoulder - an involuntary action. "A best man? Like, for a wedding?"

He nods absentmindedly. "Rinoa scheduled the hall for next week."

Next week?! I feel like I should have one of those sweat drop things that Selphie's anime characters are prone to. "A week? Isn't that kinda soon?"

Squall shrugs, settling back into the chair. "She wanted to do it before she

started to show."

". . .Show what?"

He says, quite matter-of-factly, "The baby. Rinoa is pregnant."

The soda can explodes as my fist clenches around it.

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Seifer-few hours later

"Yo man, s'up?"

These are the first words I hear from the man. Actually, he looks more like a boy. A man-boy. Some weird hybrid of human extract. And what's with his tattoo? I look at the sprawling blue mark, blinking in disbelief. And the spiky blonde hair? Huh. Human chicken freak what the fuck? I sneer at him, and he gazes back at me, obliviously unaffected.

"The fucking ceiling. Who the hell are you?"

He takes a step back, pauses, and starts punching the air for some reason. "Zell, man. Just Zell. You're Seifer, huh? You from Trabia or something?"

. . .The hell? This is my new 'buddy'? . . .I get a chicken? I wonder what the hell I did to piss off Caraway so much. Crap, he wants an answer. "No, actually. You from Uranus?"

He stops punching, but still bounces up and down. It looks kind of amusing in his black slacks and white business shirt. I also keep wanting to reach out and rip off his flapping red tie. It's nothing if not annoying. "No, actually," he mimics. "I'm from Balamb. Born and raised," he says with a touch of pride.

". . .Right." Is this guy for real? Well, son of a bitch. "Come in, I guess." He smiles, his teeth oddly resembling fangs, and walks in. Or starts to. More like, he takes a step, then stops in the door way, reeling back dramatically. "Whoa! Holy shit! You people live here? This is huge!"

Then he walks in, gaping at everything. I roll my eyes and follow him, shutting the door behind me. He takes in our living room, notes the balcony, gawks at the bathroom ("Damn, you guys have a shower?"), and marvels over the coffeepot. Yes, the coffeepot.

Finally, after he steps outside and comments on Seifer's (God, it feels so weird to refer to the mutt with my name) litter box, I get him settled at the table. I can only thank the Powers that Be that Squall has Seifer out somewhere, or I'd never get Zell to shut up. On second thought, if Seifer ate Zell, that would be problem solved. Fricassee of Zell, followed by a nice big Rinoa pie.

I narrow my eyes at the thought of Rinoa. Stupid fucking bitch. She's not right for Squall. I can't believe how incredibly stupid he is not to see it. And getting pregnant? Shouldn't she use birth control or something? I mean, what's wrong with a condom for fuck's sake? Honestly. . .

"Yo, dude. Penny for your thoughts."

I snap my head up, focusing my glare on the hybrid. "Rinoa. Gimme the penny."

The idiot actually fishes around in his pocket and tosses me the coin. "Rinoa? What about her? Man, she is sooo hot. S'too bad Squall got to her first, for sure. I'd give anything to be with a girl like her." He stares dreamily off into space, eyes half closed and a small smile, sans fangs, blooms.

I roll my eyes, wanting desperately to go grab my gunblade and shove it up his

nasty ass. However, I hear the repercussions for that kind of thing are moderate to severe, so lucky little chicken hybrid gets to live.

Instead, I use my words. My ex-anger management leader would be so thrilled. "Rinoa's nothing but a sheltered slut who needs to have a nice little taste of the real world. Squall is in no way lucky to have her. He's too good for her fucking ass. Best thing for her would to be to drop her off a fucking cliff, to be honest with you. Though I'd feel sorry for the poor seagulls who'd be snacking on her."

Zell stared, wide eyed. "Uh huh. . ." He states brilliantly. And then, "You don't like Rinoa? What are you, a fag or something?"

I detect of whiff of homophobia. Maybe this will get him out of my kitchen, and back to whatever dumpster he crawled from. "Actually, Zell," I say, heavily accentuating his name, "I am."

His mouth pops open, and then he stares at me suspiciously, his eyes narrowed. "You? No fuckin' way, man. Seriously. You ain't no fudge packer."

Oh, like I've never heard that before. Just because I have no lisp and because pink is at the bottom of my color choices, I'm a big tough 'manly man'. I roll my eyes at him. "Fudge packer, faggot, queer, homosexual, homo, freak of nature, ass whammer, shirt lifter. . .take a pick, I've got more."

He giggles, slightly unsure of himself. "Yeah, but you. . .you're not. . ."

"Straight? No. Problem with that?"

"Eh. . ." I can almost see the wheels in his head turn. On the one hand, if he says yes, I can pound him into the ground. On the other, he can say no, and have to hang out with a 'fag'. Ooh, choices, choices. He grins sheepishly. "No. None whatsoever. Er, does Squall know?"

I start to speak, sounding a lot like Zell did, before leaning against the back of my chair. Does he know that I'm gay? I've always assumed so, but now that I think about it, if he has no memory of me, obviously he wouldn't know my sexual preferences, right? Well I'll be damned, the hybrid makes an intelligent point.

"Why the fuck do you want to know? Now come on, we need to study this crap."

And with that, I open my book. However, my mind is only half on my task at hand. The hybrid has made a very good point. . .

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Laguna

The entrance door opens for me as I arrive, and I'm once again impressed at the efficiency of my staff. I smile broadly at the young brunette man that waves me inside and pause to give him twenty gil. He thanks me politely, and slides the money into his pocket. Such polite people around here. I can't help but smile to myself as I walk into my office.

The interior is dark, my possessions only vague shadows in the dark. I sigh, regretting the loss of youthful vision. I walk across the room, following my memory to lead me to the light switch. I grimace as my leg smacks into the scooter that some kid gave me last year and rub the aching flesh.

Something clinks on the other side of the room and I freeze, allowing my eyes to futilely rove the blackened room . After a moment of nothing happening I shrug and continue back to the light switch.

I flip it upwards, and brightness immediately fills the room. "Gah!" I shout as I throw my arm over my eyes, the light having burned them. I lower it slowly, my eyes still shut tight, and then slowly open my eyes.

And find myself staring down the barrel of a gun. Adrenaline immediately fills me, along with a strong urge to flee. But I'm pressed against the wall with nowhere to go.

The person, who is wearing a mask, breaths in heavily. "Goodbye, Mr. Mayor."

The blast is loud, louder than I ever imagined, but also bigger and heavier and less painful than I imagined. I frown. Then blink. And then I realize that I'm not dead and the person with the gun is lying on top of me. My body spasms and I push him off, jumping slightly as somebody grabs my hand and pulls me up.

It's the door opener. He frowns at the man on the ground, and toes him with a steel tipped boot. The fallen man groans.

The brunette nods and places a gun in his belt under his official jacket. Then he gives me the once over and holds out his hand. "Nida Hanson, Mr. Mayor. Balamb Police Department, Special Services. Sorry for the inconvenience."

I reach out and shake his hand slowly, aware of weird palpitations in my chest. "Er, is he dead?"

Nida frowns and shows me the gun, which is full of tranquilizer darts. "Nope, just knocked out. We wanted him alive so we could interrogate him. He isn't the first person we've caught trying to kill you, but he is the first that's gotten this far. So sorry."

"Ah. . .and there are many of you?" I squint my eyes to focus on his blurring

image.

He brightens, placing the gun away. "Oh yeah! You're totally secure. Most of

your employees are actually working for the police, it's nice to have a double

job, you know? Um. . .Sir? Mr. Mayor? Do you feel alright?"

I smile weakly at him, the pain in my chest getting worse. He seems to be

moving, or maybe it's me. Pain shoots down my left arm, and my head swims. I'm

vaguely aware of Nida's shocked face as I fall backwards, and then everything

fades to black.

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BS: yeah, I know. Short, but at least I advanced the plot. Now I can start getting to the point. Hopefully. Anyways, No idea about the next update. Right now I'm supposed to be writing a thirty page story for school, so that sort of has to take priority, due to the whole 'I want to pass High School' factor.