The skies above Centra were so fine and clear they seemed white. Reflections of silver fire scattered like glass on the coastal tide pools, splashing and breaking and melting into the same blinding white over and over again. It might have been pretty had it not been so painfully intense.

As the sun wheeled overhead, heating everything below in systematic progression, Seifer (or the Living Sundial, as he now thought of himself) tried to keep to the shade provided by a series of jagged boulders. A tree had once grown nearby, and when lightning from a long-ago storm struck its branches, the surrounding stones had felt the sky's wrath as well. The earth was still blackened in thin arches, twisting around the pool like tortured fingers holding a mirror. With peaks of stone rising all around him, he often felt as if he were sitting with his back to a giant crown, the last guard for a ruler long buried.

He cast his line again and waited.

A rock lizard scuttled beside him, leaving behind shallow tracks that quickly filled with sand. Seifer remained motionless and watched it sniff the air with its forked purple tongue. He was reminded of a statue he had once seen, the great stone beast all crushing jaws and powerful limbs. The scaly toes weren't as large and the jaws didn't open quite as wide, but Seifer had no doubts that his companion was just as fearsome to the prey he was stalking.

"Boo."

It fled, flashing between grass and stones before his eyes could fully register its absence. For it to be so ugly and fierce-looking, it sure was a chicken.

Looking out over the water again, feeling his eyes get heavier and heavier, he watched mosquitoes and the giant coastal dragonflies hover over the surface.

Cocky bastards.

They knew the fish weren't biting and seemed to enjoy teasing him about it.

There was still work to be done at the orphanage, but most of the major repairs were completed and the house was ready for the autumn storm season. The roof no longer leaked and the windows had been replaced, their shining new panes protected by durable aluminum shutters. Seifer felt perfectly justified in taking time for himself, yet he found that he couldn't sit still. Restless, he reeled in the line and cast again. The drowned worm fell back into the water with a faint plunk.

Home repairs.

Fishing.

Napping in the sun.

Bullshit.

Was he destined to do nothing but replace windows and install gutters? Go fishing every afternoon? Talk about the weather with Cid? Play cards on Saturday nights with the folks for the rest of his life?

Suddenly possessed by this frightening notion, he leaned over the edge of the pool and looked in the water to see if his face was puckering with wrinkles and age spots. Nope. He hadn't turned into an old man just yet. He lifted his chin and admired the cut of his jaw. Still as handsome as ever, for all the good it was doing him. It wasn't like women were crawling all over Centra.

When was the last time you got laid, anyway?

Thinking about sex was always a mistake. Thinking about sex made him think about Quistis and thinking about Quistis made him want to drive his fist through a wall. He couldn't even get relief from magazines anymore. It was like settling for a fast food burger when you were dying for prime rib. Why did she have to be so good at everything she attempted? She did it on purpose, always showing off to prove some crazy point that nobody would understand but her.

A dragonfly buzzed by his ear and whispered some secret in its strange buzzing language. He slapped it away and saw it dive towards the water again, zooming in mad circles as if to say "See? You're not gonna catch anything today, loser."

He snorted. Forget getting lucky. When was the last time he had even caught a goddamned fish? He had a better chance of meeting bikini models on spring break than he did catching a single perch.

Hell.

Was his life so pathetic and boring that he had just compared sex, one of his all-time favorite activities, to the one endeavor that he had never mastered? Quistis would have been cackling, the smart-ass. Proficiency in most fields does not guarantee brilliance in any of them, Seifer. You can't be the best at everything. Consider this a lesson in humility and patience. Now watch. I'll show you how it's done.

Seifer tossed the pole down in disgust, then peeled his shirt off. Heavy with sweat, it adhered to his cheeks and throat, hugging his face and briefly trapping him in a thin cotton dungeon. He growled and tried to rip the fabric, but it held fast. Stumbling and muttering, he finally freed himself and threw the shirt as far as he could.

"Fucking clothes."

His boots and shorts followed, landing in the dust near his shirt. A lifetime of military training made him want to run to the pile and neatly fold every piece, like a good soldier should, but Seifer had never been very good at doing what he should. It was the sort of thing Quistis might do. He was willing to bet that even her panties had creases from being steam-pressed and folded into iron-tight squares.

"Stupid heat."

He took a dozen paces backwards, then dashed forward and leapt into the pool. He wanted the water to be ice cold, to steal his breath and leave him gasping, but it was simply... cool. The shock wasn't there and he was disappointed. He hated it. He hated Centra. Apathy was threatening to throttle him, but the noose had been tightened so gradually that he wasn't aware that the rope was even around his neck. That's what pissed him off the most.

The insects that had earlier mocked him scattered in fear. Seifer splashed and slapped the surface, daring them to return. When they didn't, he began swimming. His arms sliced through the water, each stroke carrying him farther from the shore. Slow circles, lazy crooked paths, then straight lines toward the opposite shore. It didn't really matter. He knew he was confined by the pool, but the movement helped.

When he finally swam so that his shoulders were burning and his arms felt heavy, he took a deep breath and dove into the water. He drifted down until the world darkened around him and stars swirled in his vision, then shot back up and shook the salt from his hair.

Again and again he descended as far as his lungs would allow, then swam to the surface when his body cried out for oxygen. When he tired of this, he floated on his back, blinded by the sun and the even harsher reflection of its light that shimmered all around him.

Hungry, horny, bored. He could swim all day, but in the end he knew he'd just have to add exhausted to his list of complaints.

Another dragonfly hovered over his bare thigh. Those tiny iridescent wings fanned his skin, beating so quickly that he couldn't see them move. They were pretty little fuckers.

He wondered if they could bite.


Damned mosquitoes.

Quistis slapped her neck for what felt like the thousandth time since leaving the house. The straw hat Edea had lent to her was great for keeping the sunlight off her face, but it was useless for warding off the mosquitoes. Their droning bored into her skull. Constant, heavy. Incessant. Had it not been for the stings, she might have grown drowsy, hypnotized by the constant humming. Edea had been worried about the sun, but she should have been worried that the blood suckers might lift her from the ground and fly her to Esthar. The bastards were huge.

Slap!

Quistis pulled her hand back, grimacing when she felt the insect's legs twitch against her fingers. Her hand was sticky with her own blood, which was bad enough, but feeling those...legs. Ugh. She would let Seifer have it when she found him, dragging her out to the middle of nowhere just to be gnawed on by giant winged vampires with skinny legs. He wasn't worth all this.

He likes to fish when he wants to be left alone, though I think he's been doing it a bit too much lately. It's almost like trying to talk to Squall, sometimes. Try the eastern beach. I know he always has good luck there.

The eastern beach. Right. There was nothing there but sand and water. It was far too dull there for Seifer Almasy.

Slap!

Disgusting.

She knew exactly the spot that he would be found. He had always thought himself so clever, running off to his secret place whenever he lost patience with his broken little family, but she had always known where to find him. He really wasn't that difficult to figure out.

She bit her lip.

Except when he is. Then he's just infuriating. And this is the longest walk in history. Why does he have to be so difficult? I wouldn't be surprised to find that he's bred these mutant mosquitoes in some seaside laboratory just to torment me today.

Stones and sand crunched beneath her feet. She marched on, trying to ignore the parasites. Some of her preparations seemed silly now, like traveling with a guardian spirit and forgetting to pack insect repellant, but she was glad that she had worn her boots. Heavy and solid, they had been her most trustworthy companions for years. Xu often teased her, saying that every wrinkle she wore into the leather would one day be reflected in her pretty face, but Quistis liked her boots. She'd like them even more when she got to take them off, but with sun-baked earth heating the soles, she wasn't going to complain.

Well, not much, anyway.

Certainly not to herself.

She planned on complaining loudly as soon as she found him, though.

What was Xu up to? Had she found the letter yet? Would she leave her school to find her? She pleaded with her for understanding, begging her for the chance to find out why she was being plagued with headaches and nightmares. Would Xu let her go long enough for that?

Were her students enjoying their break? Had they studied? Some of them were very bright, bored with the lectures and exams. Would they enjoy a field trip to visit the ruins next term?

How was Rinoa? For that matter, how was Squall? He had seemed happier than she had ever seen him the last time they met for dinner. Stability suited him. It suited Rinoa as well. They had a happy life. But how long could it last?

Would Edea be able to help her? She had so many questions. Could she tell her what she needed so badly to know?

What was Seifer going to say when she found him? Would he tell her to fuck off, as he had countless times before? She hoped so. She didn't want to explain to him that she hadn't come to Centra for him, as much as she wished that were the case.

I really hate you sometimes.

Yeah, but you'll get over it once you finally figure out how to stop being such a pompous bitch.

Goddamnit, why did he have to do that? Probing, seeking, dissecting her. No answer was ever good enough for him. Never content with simply pricking her, he would twist his blade and smile when she writhed against his questions. Could she deal with that again, knowing that he knew her so well? Knowing that she was running to his secret area because she missed him? He'd never let her live it down.

Lost in these musings, the pools were upon her before she noticed. He was on her before she noticed. She dropped to the ground and peered at him from behind a weathered stone. Had he heard her? No. He was cursing too loudly to hear anything. Had he seen her? Hm. Not likely. She was forty feet from him and hidden by stones and scraggly trees. Plus, he was struggling with his t-shirt, bellowing about cotton being a clingy bastard. Now the great idiot was tearing his clothes off. Was he mad? The mosquitoes would eat him alive.

Okay, so he does look delicious with that tan, but still. He's insane for...what the hell is he doing now?

He landed in the water with a splash. Quistis found that she was holding her breath until he emerged again. She had never been a strong swimmer and feared water. A swimming pool was one thing, where the bottom was flat and visible, the water clean and chlorinated, but the sea? A river? Leviathan was far too capricious for her to trust the ocean.

He was swimming now. She sat on the stone and admired him. He seemed at ease in the water, slipping through the glassy surface with a confidence that was wholly different from his usual cocky strut. It was odd to see him when he wasn't trying to impress anyone. She considered leaving so that he wouldn't be interrupted, but her desire to speak with him outweighed any concern she had for his welfare.

Reaching into her bag, she produced her book and spread it on her knees. As with anything else, patience was complemented with study, and study with patience. Her study of Seifer could resume when he finished his swim.

Until then, she had work to do.


I could fix a sandwich.

I think there's some cheese in the fridge.

No, that won't work. It's hairier than Raijin's ass.

There's some rice in the pantry, but I don't want to have my dick cut off by that damned machine in the kitchen.

Apple? No, not enough.

Soup? No, I ate that this morning.

Foie gras? Wait a second. Why do I even know what that is?

He might have kept swimming all afternoon, but the sun was beginning its descent and Seifer was hungry. He was still angry about not catching any fish, but he was too tired to care that much about it anymore. Food of any sort was a bigger priority than even his pride. Lazily kicking in circles, he noticed a strange tint to his right, not far from the shore.

What the hell is that? Why is the water pink over there?

Seifer swam toward the shore and looked into the water. It wasn't pink now that he was closer. It must have just been a reflection from the rocks. Tall blades of sea grass waved and flirted with him, occasionally parting long enough for him to see dozens of white shells scattered on the floor.

Scallops.

Seafood was back on the menu.

He took a deep breath and ducked beneath the surface, scooping up as many as his hands would hold. He kicked back to the shore and dropped them on the bank, then turned around for more. A couple dozen of those, some bread, some beer, Quistis reading a book, maybe some hot sauce and...

Pfft!

Seifer dropped the last handful of scallops and pulled himself out of the water, spitting salty spray onto the bank.

Quistis.

Here.

Of all places.

That bitch.

What the hell was she thinking?

"You!"

Quistis adjusted her glasses, seemingly oblivious to the fact that a naked man was quickly approaching her with something akin to murder in his eyes.

Seifer stood over her, dripping water onto the pages of her book. She calmly wiped the drops away, finally looking at his face. He was every bit as intimidating as he had been the last time she saw him, but she'd be damned before she let him see that. After such a long time and he couldn't even say hello? Fine. She could play his game.

"You're blocking the light. Could you please stand to the side?"

Was she serious? She was sitting in the middle of nowhere like some queen on a fucking picnic on a jolly summer's day, reading that goddamned book and all she could say was that he was blocking the light?

Quistis swept her hand over her book and around, encompassing the entire area in a single gesture. Carefully, deliberately, never taking her eyes from his, she asked, "It's very quiet here. I can understand why it appeals to you so much. Do you still call this place the Queen's Mirror?"

"What are you talking about?"

Memories bubbled and spilled over some days, rushing out of her like soda from a shaken bottle, but on other days she couldn't remember her favorite color or song. Seifer had the same training, knew the process and the demands it made on both body and mind, but he never junctioned to the extent that she did. The very idea was repulsive to him. His ego had never allowed him to rely on anyone or anything else to be the best. Had he simply forgotten? She held the corners of the pages against her thumb, flipping them like a deck of cards.

Will you stop crying? I don't like it.

Leave me alone.

You never cry.

I never need to.

What's wrong with your eyes? They're all red.

No! Don't touch me!

It's just a wet towel. Stop being such a baby.

It hurts.

Well, cryin' won't make it stop hurtin'. Besides, it makes you ugly. You get all puffy. I like you better when you're not puffy and cryin' like Zell.

Why are you so mean?

Why are you so easy to be mean to?

I'm...I'm not...

Don't start that again. Look, if I tell you a story, will you quit this?

I don't know.

Well, try anyway. Okay, so I was explorin' one day and I found this really neat place...

It had been a monumental admission. Seifer never volunteered information to a foe, no matter that he was being merciful. "You don't remember?"

Seifer looked along the bank for his clothes. Had she hidden them?

"I don't remember a lot of things, Instructor. Now what did you do with my clothes?"

Seifer missed the way Quistis' nostrils flared, the look of pain on her face. He also missed the way she slowly closed her book and stood from her seat.

What he didn't miss was her fist connecting with his jaw.

"Ow!"

Her hand was raised for another blow, but he wrenched her arm behind her back and pulled.

Hard.

She hissed, but said nothing. He stepped closer, not to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, but to prevent her from kicking backwards and shattering his kneecaps. Those boots of hers looked like sledgehammers.

Held against him as she was, with her forearm parallel to her spine, he could easily dislocate her shoulder. It was a weak joint, designed for mobility instead of strength. One good tug and she'd have to put her arm in a sling. Both of them knew it.

He popped his jaw. She had a mean right hook and he knew he would feel her fist on his chin for a few days. "Why the fuck did you hit me?"

"Because you're an asshole. You're a cold, unfeeling bastard."

So matter of fact. She insulted him like she was pointing out the medulla oblongata on some fucking diagram.

Class, why is Seifer abnormally aggressive?

Because he has an enlarged medulla oblongata.

Very good, class! Now! Given that he operates on a far more primitive level than any of us, what's the best way to deal with him?

A leash and a collar, Instructor. Animals belong in cages.

Excellent!

She could smell salt on his skin. He was obnoxiously close. His breath on her throat irritated the red welts from the mosquito bites.

"Did you learn that from that book of yours?"

He could feel the panic in her body, saw how the tendons in her neck tensed as she glanced at her book.

"Why don't you tell me why you're here, dearest Instructor?"

Quistis was quick, but Seifer had longer arms, better reach. They both moved like snakes, striking the same target, but he was faster. He snatched her book from the ground and held it far above her, grinning when she failed to reach it.

"Tell me... or I'll throw this fucker to the fish."

"Don't you dare."

His grin widened. He hadn't had this much fun in months.

"Then give me my clothes."

Quistis knew he was baiting her, but she didn't give a damn. "Give me that book."

"My clothes."

"My book."

"Give me my...fuck!"

After one particularly exasperating class period, she had vowed that she would make him listen to her, no matter how it hurt him (or her, for that matter), and she had never forgotten her promise. Now, with his earlobe firmly caught between her thumb and forefinger, she meant for him to hear every word she had to say.

"That book means more to me than your very life, Almasy. I'll have it back and I'll have it back this very instant."

"Let go!"

Raijin once joked that it would be hot to see Quistis in full-on dominatrix mode. The entire fourth year class wondered when it would come out that she was a closet domme, and many had placed bets. Seifer had agreed, though Fujin simply chuckled at both of them. When asked why she was laughing, she said nothing. She just returned her lunch tray to the window and left for her next class.

He understood why she was laughing at them now.

"Damn it, Trepe! Let go of me!"

"Not until you..."

"Until I what?"

Low and lethal. That was the Seifer she knew. That was the Seifer that was familiar. That was the Seifer that made her want to beat him with a nail bat. She pulled harder on his ear, relishing his fumbled protestations, his almost choked curses.

How the fuck did she do that? It was just one tiny flap of skin. He had been shot and stabbed and mercilessly beaten. Why was it that he couldn't stand a single pinch? "You're supposed to be in Balamb. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Currently?" Not one to yield when she had the advantage, she stood on his toes and used every pound of pressure on his bare feet that her body could produce. "It appears that I'm kicking your ass."

Seifer wondered why it was considered improper for women to get slugged in the mouth. Whoever had invented that rule had obviously never tangled with Instructor Goddamned Trepe.

Who the hell did she think she was?

"You're not kicking my...ow! You're just stomping on me with those skis attached to your ankles and...damn it, let go of my ear!"

Squirming free, red-faced and panting, Seifer held his ear as if he were holding an infant to his chest. He looked at his palm, shocked to see that his ear hadn't detached itself, then tackled Quistis and wrestled her to the ground.

She beat against him until he forced her hands to her sides. The indignity of it riled her more than being tossed about like a sack of potatoes. He was smiling, the bastard. "Take your hands off me!"

He held her, not without dryly remarking to himself that he would have been very pleased indeed to have her writhing underneath him a few hours ago. The reality of being in contact with her was often far different from daydreams. He had learned that in school, then again during the war, and once again when they both had nothing left to lose.

What was wrong with him?

"Give me my clothes."

Her glasses were bent. She wrinkled her nose in an attempt to correct them, then coolly stated, "I want my book. And you're going to give it to me."

He thought that the thigh sliding against his might be an overture for peace. When that warm touch disappeared, he briefly thought she might have been trying to reposition herself. They had fucked before and it had been great. She liked a little conflict, after all, and it had been a very long time since he...

"Oof!"

She rolled away when he curled into a ball, cursing every deity that existed and inventing some new ones.

"Holy fucking horned Hyne in space, you goddamned cunt..."

"My book. I want it."

How she did it, he would never know. He had her on the ground one second, then the next she had his ear again and she was trying to prove that one's balls really could be drawn up through one's ears.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow! You're twisting it!"

It was the wrong thing to say. She twisted so hard that he felt the cartilage at the base of his ear pop over her knuckles.

"Give me my book or I'll twist more than your ear, Almasy."

"Damn it. Enough!"

Heaving upwards, he shook her off and handed the book back to her. She clutched it to her chest. He cocked his head, forgetting that his ear was on fire. Trepe acting desperate? What the hell was so fucking important?

"Where are my clothes?"

Quistis glared at him, narrow-eyed, suspicious. "Why do you need them?"

Seifer pumped his hips to demonstrate his point.

Noticing that he had no tan-line, Quistis rolled her eyes and growled, " From the looks of it, you never wear them anyway."

Seifer cocked one amused eyebrow. He would have gladly sacrificed a dozen ears to that damned harpy if she would look at him with such appreciation while she feasted on his flesh. "Here for ten minutes and you're already checking out my ass?"

A shadow passed over her face. Whatever she had been a few moments ago, scared girl, grappling fighter, seductress, she was now that same old boring old teacher. "Simply making an observation. Given that I've already been impressed by the scenery, the only other options were to look at your ass or look at your face, though I don't see much of a difference either way."

Seifer looked down and nodded in very sincere agreement. "I can't argue that. Both are very nice."

She wanted to laugh. He was so damned...

His ear was bleeding, he was stark naked, and he was smiling at her like he had just won a thousand gil at some Galbadian boxing match. She couldn't help but return his grin. Packing her book back into her satchel, she said, "Your clothes are where you left them, Seifer. You exited the water on the opposite side from which you entered it."

He blinked.

"How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough to know that you're a terrible angler. I think your hook spent more time in the air than it did in the water."

And at that, she began walking back to the orphanage. The sun was setting and it was a three hour hike. Whatever Centran beasts she had been lucky to miss would soon be sniffing at her heels. She didn't fancy a fight with anything else that day. Seifer had worn her out.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"I'm going for a walk."

"The hell you are." He ran behind her and caught her wrist. "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm being stalked by a rather damp exhibitionist."

"Funny."

She jerked her head to the opposite shore. "You forgot your clothes."

"Tell me."

Insistent bastard. "It's none of your concern."

"It's my concern when you won't leave me the hell alone."

That stung. Quistis wanted to tell him, but she wasn't sure herself. Things would have been easier if she had known what she was looking for in the first place. "If you haven't noticed, I was leaving. You're the one following me."

His grip tightened. "You know what the fuck I mean."

"I need to talk to Edea."

"Edea?"

"Yes. I'm here to ask a few questions and straighten some things out for myself. You being here is nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence."

The sun played along the shore, dusting every stone, pebble, and shell with a warm hazy rose. Quistis pointed to the long-forgotten pile of scallops.

"Are those for dinner?"

Still reeling from her appearance, Seifer looked at his catch without seeing anything. "What?"

"The scallops. I'm very fond of them."

"The scall..." Months had passed without a word. She was living the life she should have been fucking living for years, and now she was right back with him? In the bottom of nowhere? "The fucking scall..."

"What are you...?" Quistis had never seen such intensity in his gaze. She wasn't sure if he meant to fuck her or kill her. Either way, his eyes promised something very, very personal. He swept her into his arms, still staring at her with that same look of longing. Holding her against his chest, he stepped closer and closer to the water.

"Seifer?"

"Yes?"

He leaned back, took a breath...

"What the hell are you doing?"

"You said you wanted scallops."

...and tossed her into the pool.

"Not like thiiiiiiis!"