(Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy or its characters. This is just for fun.)

Chapter 7: Working for the Weekend

"Thank you for completing your," Quistis took a long pause, "online training session," another pause, "in such a timely manner.

Squall nodded at her from where he sat across from her desk. He kept his eyes forward while not making direct contact with her eyes or her body. He stared at the wall behind her, wishing he were talking to it instead of her. He was just grateful that she didn't say the term "sexual harassment" out loud in front on him. She was treating this very delicately.

"You didn't need to finish it that quickly, but it's appreciated," she continued.

"I wanted to finish it immediately and put this behind me," Squall said. He completed the module less than 24 hours after the incident took place. It was as quickly he could do it, but he would have done it even faster if it had been possible.

"Good. I hope this incident, whatever it was, won't be repeated, Mr. Leonhart," Quistis said.

Squall didn't know exactly what it was either, but he would try his hardest for it to not happen again. No matter what Rinoa did to him, he'd keep his clothes 100% on, at least while he was at work. Wait, why did he just think that? What he meant was that no matter what, he'd repel Rinoa's inappropriate advances, or whatever they were. Rinoa was stronger than she looked, but Squall was obviously stronger. Why hadn't he been able to stop what she'd been doing? How did he let a petite young woman overpower him? Did he let it happen because his subconscious mind was enjoying the her attention and closeness?

He pushed that thought away from himself as quickly as it came to him.

He nodded while staring straight forward, pretending that he was giving Quistis his complete attention.

Quistis stood up from her cushy office chair and walked around her desk. She came close to his seated form and towered over him in her heels. "Squall, I have high expectations for you. Please don't let me down again," she said in a quieter tone. She then continued to walk slowly towards the door of her office. She opened the door and beckoned for him to leave. Once he left, she let the door remain open.

Squall let out an inward sigh of relief now that he knew the awkward grilling session with his superior was over. He had wasted no time in getting up and leaving. It had been getting hot in there, and he just wanted to go back to his desk to cool off.

His footsteps were nearly noiseless as he trekked back to his cubicle. Maybe nobody had noticed that he'd been in Quistis' office at all, he hadn't been in there long.

"How is the lovely Ms. Trepe doing today?" Seifer asked as Squall passed his cubicle.

Of course Seifer would notice.

"Ask her yourself," Squall answered, quickly taking a seat and busying himself with a stack of printouts. They were just junk, but Seifer didn't know that. He kept his eyes on his 'work.'

"What topic were you two discussing in there?" Seifer asked, continuing to pry.

Seifer could torture him, and Squall still wouldn't say anything about the strange break room incident. Squall could keep a secret, and apparently Quistis could too. He didn't know Rinoa very well, but he was grateful that she hadn't said anything to anybody yesterday. If she had, Seifer would be talking about it. Once somebody knew something in their office, everybody knew it. It was too hard to keep secrets in such a small place. Rinoa probably kept silent because she was embarrassed and didn't want people to know.

He was safe, at least for now, but Seifer would keep prying unless Squall diverted his attention. Squall had to make up an answer and quickly. And he couldn't sound defensive about it either. If he sounded defensive, Seifer would know he was hiding something. Squall's mind got to work trying to formulate a plan. Being specific would lead to more questions, so he had to avoid that. And he couldn't make up an interesting response either, as that would also lead to more questions. He decided that being boring would be the best strategy to get Seifer off his back.

"Something wasn't tallying up correctly on my spreadsheets," Squall said while not looking at Seifer. He didn't like lying. It was easier to be honest because there was no need to remember anything but reality.

Also, he wasn't good at lying. It wasn't a skill he'd ever had to learn.

"If you can't do math Leonhart, you're in the wrong job," Seifer said. "The least you could do would be to use a calculator. Although that doesn't explain why you were discussing it alone and with her office door shut," Seifer reasoned.

"It was a monetary discrepancy," Squall said while licking his dry lips. "Sensitive subject about a client," he added. None of that was remotely true, but Squall hoped his explanation sounded boring enough to end further questioning from Seifer. "We were going through the numbers and..." Squall trailed off while sensing Seifer's attention drifting away.

Seifer's eyes glazed over as he nodded his head at Squall. He was hoping for a more interesting and dramatic answer after Squall's closed door encounter with Quistis. Although he doubted anything exciting had actually happened in there, but he figured that Squall could at least throw him a dirty joke or an innuendo to liven up his morning. But Leonhart was too straightlaced for anything like that. Seifer had gotten his hopes up for nothing.

"Nerd," Seifer muttered under his breath while turning away from Squall.

For the second time that morning, Squall felt relieved.

"T.G.I.F. Woooo!" Selphie yelled from across the office. Squall could hear Zell put in a whoop from his cubicle as well. Irvine let out a chuckle.

Were they thankful that it was Friday or were they cheering for the local chain restaurant? Squall could imagine Selphie letting loose with brightly colored overpriced drinks and Zell eating an entire plate of greasy potato skins before his meal ever arrived. Loud annoying music would nearly rock the mismatched and quirky decor off the dark and dingy walls.

Not a scene he'd want to be a part of, but to each his own.

While Squall preferred to avoid the loud and cluttered local grease trap, he was also thankful that it was Friday. The week had been a whirlwind. He'd been busy, which was normal, but then some extra things had happened.

Weird things.

Most of those weird things could be traced back to Rinoa Heartilly, the new receptionist. She'd only been at Phoenix for a week, but somehow she'd gotten under his skin. She was a bother, an irritation, an itch that he was trying to ignore. But with itches, the more you ignore them, the worse they get. Squall just hoped nobody in the office knew how much time he spent thinking about the receptionist. It wasn't professional, or healthy.

So let's just say that it had been a momentous week for him, for better or worse. More notable things had happened to Squall in this week than in his entire time at Phoenix. First, there was a fire drill, and that took up time, but that wasn't all. He'd had his coat stolen, briefly. He'd had hot coffee spilled all over himself, so he'd had to deal with stained clothes and minor burns. He'd had to take a sexual harassment refresher course, on his own time. It had been a roller coaster ride of ups and downs, twists and turns. Some people thought roller coasters were fun and exciting. Other people just found them to be nauseating.

Guess which type of person Squall was.

He was uneasy. He just wanted to do his job and finish this week without any other strange incidents. He wasn't going to congratulate himself on finishing another workweek until he was successfully out of the office. He wasn't going to unwind until he got home safely. His back muscles were tense, and his nerves were on high alert in anticipation and dread of whatever might come next.

So it was Friday afternoon, but it didn't feel like a relaxing Friday afternoon.

Squall's fingers typed away, finishing the day's work. He saved his files and straightened his desk before opening his email. For such a small office, they had a lot of emails sent to the entire staff. He deleted most of them that seemed non-essential to him doing his job. It felt good to clear out his in-box. If he didn't stay on top of it, it could become unwieldy. This was his usual pre-weekend routine.

After several minutes of scanning and deleting emails, Squall allowed himself to peek at the clock on his computer. The little white numbers said it was 4:48. Just a few more minutes and he'd be out of the office until Monday. If he had a favorite time of week, this would be it.

He looked around to make sure that he wouldn't forget anything. He hated the idea of having to come back to work, go to the warehouse entrance and be asked by the foreman to be let inside. He double checked that he had his cell phone, keys, lunch bag, and wallet.

His habits had taken him nearly to the end of the workday, as the clock turned over from 4:51, to 4:52.

Almost there.

He side-eyed his leather jacket that hung on the wall. It was good to have it back. His fingers twitched, waiting to grab it and run out of the building. Actually he'd just walk quickly and with purpose until he got outside. He didn't run and get all emotional about it. He would figuratively 'run' out of there, but he would literally walk out of there. Either way, he was going to leave soon. No reason to stay a minute past 5:00. That was his routine, and he was set in his ways, like an old man.

A yellow blur could be seen running past his cubicle and he cringed.

It was Selphie that hopped past his cubicle, a bright smile of her face. He kept his face towards his computer, not wanting to get into a conversation with her now at the end of the day. Luckily he wasn't her target. She kept walking up to the front of the office.

He could hear her giving Rinoa a light slap on the back and congratulating her on completing her first week with the company.

"Yeah!" Selphie cheered. "You've made it this far. That's a huge milestone. Not many receptionists make it a full week!"

"Huh?" Rinoa mumbled. That sounded worrying to her, was there something wrong with this place? She didn't have a lot of work experience. Maybe there was something toxic about Phoenix. That Seifer guy seemed like trouble. Was it his fault?

"There's a huge turnover rate," Selphie whispered loudly. "Maybe you're going to be the one to beat them all. This will be your destiny. You are the one foretold about in the prophecy," she said dramatically while pointing skywards.

"Excuse me?" Rinoa asked. This was getting weird.

"Nobody's destiny is being a receptionist for our garbage office," Seifer complained, yelling through the office. "Especially not forever."

Rinoa thought Seifer yelled a lot. He was probably one of those people who wouldn't stop scream-talking at the movies.

It seemed everybody could hear every conversation in the office.

Quistis came out of her personal office and leaned against her doorframe. "Seifer, don't upset Rinoa. You're going to hurt office morale," she explained. "And congratulations Miss Heartilly on finishing your first week with us. You're doing a good job," she reassured Rinoa with a small smile. "We hope this has been a pleasant week for you, and you won't let any minor incidents deter your career with Phoenix." Quistis worried internally that whatever Squall had done to Rinoa earlier in the week would make the young woman seek employment elsewhere. She hoped that wasn't the case. There were only so many people on the island, and she felt that they'd already briefly employed most people as their receptionist. They even had to hire this new person who was from all the way out in Galbadia. If she didn't work out, maybe Zell's mom would like a job?

As Quistis wondered about the employability of Ma Dinct, Rinoa wondered why was everybody being so nice to her. Were they being sarcastic? Was she actually doing a bad job? Or were they expecting her to be the worst receptionist ever and were pleasantly surprised.

"Uh, thanks," Rinoa said toward Quistis. She turned and looked at Selphie, who was still standing and smiling at her. That girl was always smiling. Rinoa wondered if something was wrong with her. "It's been a nice week." She didn't know what else to say.

Almost 5:00, Squall thought, drumming his fingertips on his desk.

And then the clock struck 5:00 pm. Squall clicked grabbed his jacket and started to walk out of the office. He was no longer officially obligated to be there as of right now. He started walking up towards the front desk where Selphie and Rinoa had been chatting. He would have liked to avoid Rinoa, but there wasn't another way out of the building, unless he wanted to go through the warehouse or through an alarmed fire exit.

He would just keep a straight face and keep walking. It would be fine. He turned the corner and the receptionist desk came into view.

It would be fine except that they were blocking his way. Or to be precise Selphie was blocking his way. Selphie's back was turned and she was animatedly talking about her plans for the weekend in the walkway around the front desk. The walkway could only comfortably accommodate one individual at a time, and at that moment Selphie was that individual. Rinoa was at least off to the side, her arm resting on the receptionist desk, her back towards him.

Squall thought of his options. One he could stand there mutely and wait Selphie out while holding his lunch bag and feeling foolish. Two he could try and get Rinoa or Selphie's attention and ask them to move to the side. Neither were appealing to Squall's sense of wanting to leave as quickly as possible without talking to anyone.

Squall instead took option three, he would wait until Selphie's flailing elbows and arms were out of his way and then he would make a quick dash for the exit. Squall started planning evasive maneuvers before he made his move. Then he took his chance. While speed walking he successfully avoided Selphie, but in his haste he nearly bumped into Rinoa. She turned and looked up at him in surprise, her dark eyes catching his blue ones at the last moment. He froze in place.

Rinoa looked alarmed at seeing Squall face to face after yesterday, but she didn't want to cause any more trouble for her coworker. She quickly averted her gaze by ducking her head slightly and stepped to the side to allow him to pass. Unfortunately Squall tried to go around her at the same time. They bumped into each other just like the day before. Each person's movement became a mirror image of the other. Every time he tried to avoid her, she swerved in the same direction. Rinoa's eyebrows knit together in frustration and Squall couldn't believe it. He wasn't almost home free and now this was happening. Again.

Quistis stared in horror. She hoped nothing would occur that would require her to intervene as manager again. She stood by, waiting to see what would happen.

In contrast, Selphie was enjoying the show. She let out a small laugh at her coworkers' predicament. It looked delightfully silly from her perspective. It was extra funny to her because it was stoic looking Squall. If it was just Zell and Rinoa it wouldn't nearly be as funny. Slapstick comedy was much more common with Zell. This was a rare treat.

"It kinda looks like you guys are dancing," Selphie said with a laugh.

Then she got an idea. It was Friday afternoon, she could be extra silly. "Imaginary dance party! I'm gonna join." She started bopping up and down and shaking her hips next to where Squall and Rinoa kept bumping into each other, drawn to each other like magnets. "Boom, boom, pow," she sang in her approximation of dance music.

"Not again!" Rinoa said in frustration, her hair falling over her face.

Selphie stopped dancing and singing. "Again? What do you mean? You guys have been having an office dance party without me? Not fair!" she teased.

Squall started to get hot under the collar. He had to get out of the building. NOW!

"Excuse me," Squall said with a coolness that hid the heat he felt building inside of him. He carefully put his hands on the top of Rinoa's shoulders while finally being able to step around her. He hoped he hadn't overstepped any normal bounds by touching her, but he had to get out of there before Rinoa said anything to Selphie about yesterday.

"Uh yea, no problem," Rinoa said while she looked after him as he exited the building. The door slammed shut behind him.

Why were things always so awkward with him? She was a perfectly nice coworker if you ignored the jacket stealing and crotch burning she'd done earlier in the week. And it was only her first week. She wished he'd give her another chance. She didn't want things to be awkward forever. There weren't that many people in the office that she could just hide from him forever.

"What was that about?" Selphie asked Rinoa while pointing towards the direction Squall had escaped to.

Quistis quickly went back inside her office, not wanting to witness any conversational topics Rinoa might bring up with Selphie. As far as Quistis Trepe, office manager, was concerned, the sexual harassment incident of yesterday was over.

"Uh, it was nothing," Rinoa said, wondering what it was about as well.

Cold air enveloped Squall as he exited the building. The coolness felt wonderful on his hot face. He continued into the parking lot where his black car was waiting for him. He climbed in and wasted no time in starting it up. It revved to life and began to purr. He backed out of his parking space and drove home by the same route he always did.

Yet another workweek was under his belt. He didn't have to think about this place again until 9:00 am on Monday. Just like usual.

Mission accomplished. He finally started to relax.

Squall sat by himself at home this Friday night, as usual.

The TV flickered before his eyes, illuminating the dark room in erratic flashes and a myriad of colors. He looked down at himself in the TV's strange light, his hands alternately glowing blue and orange. He flexed his fingers and then reached for the drink sitting on the coffee table in front of him. The beads of condensation wet his fingers and he played with the droplets of water, thankful for the distraction during the commercial break. He took a long drink of his beer and then set the glass back down with a small thud. He flicked the water off of his fingertips.

Sitting on the couch at home on a Friday night was usually a relaxing activity, but today it seemed overly quiet and empty. The silence in his apartment used to be a refuge from the irritating sounds of the workplace, but he was surprised to find that he actually missed the sounds of people. It felt strange. He wasn't the sort of person who minded being alone. He could enjoy himself, by himself. He didn't need people. Did he?

While he sat on his couch watching his TV with the sound off, he started taking mental stock of his life.

Squall Leonhart.

Age: twenty something.

Family: don't want to think about it.

Friends: none.

Pets: none.

Houseplants: none.

Don't, he told himself. You're fine. Don't think. Don't.

His brain was his own worst enemy. His accuser. Couldn't he just enjoy a quiet evening at home by himself? One of many quiet evenings by himself, from here until eternity.

He sighed. His chest heaved with the effort.

He didn't want to think about his life because it was sad. He had co-workers, work acquaintances, but he didn't have friends. His family situation was complicated and he tried to not think of it when he didn't have to.

He was always alone, that wasn't new, but it had never felt so lonely. What had changed?

He continued watching TV, hoping it would kill his internal dialogue and dull his mind.

Another commercial flitted across the screen soundlessly. A blonde woman was gleefully taking a shower, happy to become squeaky clean amongst a rich white lather of bar soap. The whiteness of the soap suds was only matched by the sparkling white of her over bleached teeth. As her wet and clean hair clung to the nape of her slender neck, Squall's mind started to wander. His memory brought up snatches of long dark hair and soft smiles. A soothing voice that was full of life. His heart warmed instinctively. An animated soap bar danced amongst bubbles on the screen and winked at him.

Wait, what was he thinking?

Squall rubbed his hand along his jaw, feeling the beginnings of stubble. He suddenly noticed that he had been wondering what Rinoa, the new girl, was doing right now. She was probably doing something fun and exciting, nothing mundane like watching TV alone in a darkened apartment like an antisocial vampire whose bones were half dust.

He took his hand away from his face and clenched his fist. He felt stupid for his small reverie. He uttered a soft snort of disgust.

And wondering about Rinoa wasn't the worst part. Did he just get mildly turned-on by a commercial with an animated talking soap bar?

What was his problem? He wasn't some pubescent boy who had just discovered that girls existed. He knew they existed, they were out there, somewhere. He'd seen them.

Interacting with them was another story, but he'd definitely seen them.

And Squall Leonhart was not a boy, he was a man in his 20s. He had a college degree, a job, a car, and a place to live. Those were all things that had been on his life's checklist. Accomplishments, check. Those were objective measures of success. Why didn't he feel successful?

He rubbed his hand over his forehead. His head hurt. His heart ached. He didn't know how to fix the hole inside of him. He was filled with sadness and longing.

Longing for what?

He grabbed the remote control from where it sat on the couch cushion next to him. He unmuted the TV, trying to lose himself in whatever garbage was on TV that night. The sound, while not loud, jarred him from his thoughts, breaking the relative silence.

He couldn't believe that he was actually looking forward to going back to work on Monday.

He grabbed his beer in irritation and downed it in several gulps.

Rinoa leaned her forehead against the cool windowpane in her apartment. She watched the streetlights glow outside in the growing darkness. She switched her phone to her other hand and pressed it to her ear.

"Daddy, I'm fine. Everything is great," Rinoa said. It was taking longer to reassure him than usual. Her hand was getting tired from holding up the phone.

Her father loved her, but he was used to being in control of situations, and he wasn't happy when Rinoa 'ran away' from home. Rinoa had informed him that she was an adult woman, not a teen runaway. She'd taken a job and was being responsible. She just wanted to try living on her own, really on her own.

He hadn't taken it well. They'd fought, but in the end Rinoa moved far away from Deling City and the continent of Galbadia to sunny little Balamb.

He assured her that she'd always be his baby girl, and it was his job to worry about her. He told her that she'd feel the same way when she had her own wayward daughter. She scoffed at the thought. If she ever decided to be a mother, she'd be a cool mom. Nothing like all the other moms, who were wracked with worry. Her father had laughed at that.

Even though they didn't always see eye to eye with each other, they did love one another, in their own ways. Her father had given her a phone and Rinoa had agreed to check in with him from time to time. He always said that it was a dangerous world out there. Rinoa smiled at her father's worries. It was annoying, but also nice that he cared about her so much.

"Yes, Daddy," she agreed with whatever he'd been saying. Yes, she was eating and drinking enough. Yes, she wasn't losing weight. Yes, she was locking her doors at night. Yes, she wasn't taking candy from strangers in windowless white vans. Okay, he didn't say anything about that last one, but it felt like that was where the conversation was headed.

"Is your dog protecting you?" her father asked.

"Protecting me from what?" Rinoa asked.

"Maybe you need a bodyguard," Caraway mused to himself.

"Balamb is perfectly safe. Don't worry." Rinoa didn't know if she'd been to a safer area before. A bodyguard seemed to be overkill, overkill General Caraway style.

"Don't be fooled by appearances Rinoa. Just because a place looks safe, doesn't mean it is. I looked at this week's local police report and I saw that there was a recent wave of shoplifting and vandalism."

"You're checking local police reports?" Rinoa asked with exasperation. He'd always find something wrong if he looked hard enough. "Those sounds like pretty minor crimes," Rinoa said. "Probably just some bored local kids." She started pacing around her apartment.

"Don't let your guard down," he said. "Who knows what bad types of people are out there?" Actually he knew what types of bad people were out there in the world, but he'd tried to hide the grittiness of reality from his daughter. She was trusting and naive and he worried about her. If trouble could be found, she'd find it, whether she meant to or not. That dog better be doing its job.

Rinoa kept pacing. She felt that this fatherly call had gone on long enough. Although it was a little tense, they weren't fighting. She figured she should end the call before it turned into a daddy-daughter argument. The key to getting along with her father was keeping interactions with him to a minimum before their personalities could clash in any significant way.

"I'll check in with you later, okay? Bye bye," Rinoa said sweetly before ending the call with her father. It was sweet that he worried about her so much. At least it was sweet when she wasn't living under his roof. Now that there was some distance between them, it was easier to appreciate his concerns. They didn't feel so suffocating and neverending. It had gotten a lot easier to value him when he was on another continent. Maybe this move would help improve their relationship.

She put her phone down and stretched her arms behind her back. Her dog sat at her feet and she reached down to give her a few good head scratches.

"Good girl," she said.

Rinoa turned around and surveyed her apartment. Now that the sun had gone down during her call, it was getting too dark to see clearly in her apartment. She flicked on all the lights. The harsh overhead bulb illuminated her basic furnishings. A couch, a coffee table, some boxes.

This place definitely needed some personal touches. She reached into the box and pulled out a squeaky dog toy. She threw it behind her head. Her dog, Angelo, perked up and ran after it. The dog was soon rolling on her back and chewing on the toy.

"Yea, Angelo!" she said encouragingly to the dog. "Happy now?" she asked. "Me too!"

Rinoa was happy. She'd just finished her first week of work. This was her first weekend and she was so excited. She wanted to celebrate. She grabbed her music player and decided on an upbeat playlist. Soon music filled her small apartment.

She started dancing around with Angelo chasing her heels. She laughed. Her antics must look silly if anybody were to see them, but she didn't care. It didn't matter that she couldn't dance well, or that she was dancing with a dog. She was having fun and living her life. She was happy. Her heart was full. Her new job wasn't much, but it was hers, at least for now. She decided that she was going to make the most of it.

She was going to make her own decisions, live her own life, choose her own friends.

At least she would choose her own friends as the opportunity arrived. She didn't want to be stuck dancing alone with a dog every weekend.

She could only hope.

She might just make it after all.

Author's notes: I hope you guys liked this chapter okay. I was having a lot of trouble with it. And I don't know about everybody else, but my dad is always asking how I'm doing even though I'm an adult. That often includes if I'm eating well. (Please read and review.)