Miss Balamb Garden

Chapter Five | Frocks and Locks

Seifer was having a dream.

He was standing in the empty classroom they'd been secretly practising their dance in, and he was annoyed because Irvine was insisting that Seifer had to lead the dance because he was in a dress. And when Seifer exploded in a, "What the hell, Kinneas - I'm the one wearing a dress. Quistis said so!" he glanced down and saw that it was true - Irvine was in a dress. He was wearing the same black dress Edea wore, but when Seifer looked back up Irvine's face had transformed - his stomach dropped - into one that often haunted his mind: slim, pale and cruel with purple markings framing her eyes. Ultimecia.

And he had to fight, he knew he did, he wouldn't let her into his head again. With a growl Seifer darted to the side of the room where Hyperion was resting against a wall, but when he made to grab it he found it was stuck.

Quistis was holding onto the gunblade with that bossy-as-hell expression on her face. "What the - ?" he yelled at her, and it was as though his arms had no strength even as he yanked at Hyperion with all his might. "Let go! She's gonna kill us!"

But Quistis' face didn't change as she told him categorically that he couldn't fight, women don't fight, and besides how was he going to fight with high heels on - ?

Which just enraged Seifer further, because what a load of BS coming from the youngest killing machine Garden had ever produced, and he'd sooner stick forks in his eyes than wear high heels… wait. Seifer looked down at his feet.

Oh shite.

There was no time to contemplate the stilettos though, Ultimecia was attacking, and without weapon or magic he could only fling his arms up in an attempt to shield him and Quistis as the sorceress conjured up some mad spell that made his ear drums shake.

BANG BANG BANG.

Crazy itch witch, GO HOME.

BANG BANG BANG.

"Seifer!"

BANGBANGBANG!

Seifer woke groggily, some part of his mind registering that he was lying face down into his pillow. He groaned and put a hand on his eyes as someone continued to pound obnoxiously on his door.

What a dream. Officially nuts.

What else is new.

BANGBANGBANGBANG!

For the love of Hyne… Seifer heaved himself from the bed and reached for a pair of sweatpants. Last night had been stuffy and he'd slept nude, and as little shame as he had about his body, he was sure no one wanted to be confronted by him in all his glory. Not this early in the morning.

The knocking did not stop as he struggled into his pants.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," Seifer grumbled, stumbling forward and groping blindly for the door panel.

It slid open to reveal an irate looking Quistis, eyes turned downward, arms folded in an expression remarkably similar to the one she'd had in his dream. Seifer was not expecting to see her - hell, he wasn't expecting to see anyone other than Raijin or Fujin - thank Hyne I put on some pants - but was still too groggy to manage more than a raised eyebrow.

Quistis was not so successful in hiding her surprise. Her glare was quickly replaced by a look of shock, her eyes widening as they dropped down to his bare chest before (was she looking even lower?) darting back up to his face. She emitted a little squeak and stumbled backwards, a hint of pink creeping in her cheeks.

And as the sleep cleared from his mind, Seifer felt a certain stab of smugness as he processed her reaction. He hitched on a lazy smirk, folding his arms and leaning his head against the door frame.

"Well, good mornin', instructor," he said with relish.

"Good morning yourself," Quistis snapped, recovering her brisk manner abruptly, though her face was still rosy. "You're late. We were supposed to meet at the garage at 0900 hours."

We were…? Ah, crap, yeah we were. That shopping trip for the pageant. Whoops.

Seifer yawned widely, "What time is it now?"

"It's 9:15," was her curt response.

"I'm not late. Courtesy dictates you should wait half an hour for me. I still got fifteen minutes to haul ass."

Quistis looked appalled. "You absolutely should not ever be half an hour late to anything. Where on earth is that okay?"

"In my books it is."

"For goodness' sake - please don't tell me you turn up to your missions late."

"We're not on a mission, Trepe. This is a social thing. How did you get in here, anyway? This is a private room."

"Fujin let me in. She pointed to your door and said: BANG LOUDLY."

You traitor, Fu.

"Anyway, will you please go put on a shirt and get ready?" She had on that snobby pointed tone again. "We really need to get going."

He looked carefully back in the face of her exasperation, and beneath it saw her discomfort and embarrassment. Seifer grinned leisurely.

"Methinks you are flustered by the sight of my glorious pecs, instructor," he drawled, throwing out his chest even further. "What's the matter? Never seen a shirtless hunk before?"

To his delight she went even redder, and her eyes definitely darted back down again as she stammered, half in dismay, half in indignation, "I - that's not - you can't - ohhh, just hurry up and get ready!"

Seifer chuckled, uncrossing his arms. "Relax, I'm just teasing you. I'll be ready in three minutes. In fact, go to the garage, start the car and meet me at the front gate. I reckon I'll beat you. I'll be there at 9:25."

"And if you're not?" Quistis still looked annoyed, her arms firmly crossed.

"I'll bake you something," he said dismissively. "But if I am, you need to bake me something."

"I don't know how to bake."

"Time to learn. Anyway, see ya there!" He slammed his hand on the panel. Seifer suppressed another laugh at her affronted expression before the door slid shut over it and he dove back into his room.

In approximately two minutes and forty-three seconds he'd taken a leak, sort of brushed his teeth, gotten dressed and was running flat out to the front gate. Selphie saw him at the directory and piped out, "Heey, where's the fire?" but he just waved a hand over his head.

Seifer didn't stop until he reached the very front entrance of Garden where the car park ramp rose up. A sleek black car was already parked there and as he doubled over in disbelief, gasping for breath, the window slid down. Quistis looked through to him and smiled demurely.

"I win," she said simply.

It took about ten seconds to catch his breath, but at last Seifer straightened up and lamented, "Damn."

"Now get in," ordered Quistis.

"Nope." With one hand on his side to steady his breathing, Seifer gestured impatiently at her. "You get out. I'm driving."

Her brow creased. "What?"

"You probably drive at twenty k's per hour. At that rate we'll be in Balamb the same time Chicken-wuss asks out that library chick." He walked over to the driver door and yanked it open. "Move over."

Quistis gave him a Look.

He grimaced. "Please."

Shaking her head, she acquiesced and unclipped her seatbelt. Soon they were on the road and, wasting no time, Quistis began her pageant update.

"I was talking to Selphie and she let slip that the history of Garden would feature during the interview, so I think we ought to brush up on that and get as acquainted as we can with the facts."

"History. I can hardly wait," said Seifer sarcastically, making a turn on the road into Balamb town. "So what other parts are there?"

"There's the talent portion, then the beach wear portion - "

"Beach wear? Like I have to wear a mankini?"

"Well, technically you're posing as a girl so… it'll be a normal bikini. Actually we'll have to look at some of those today too." She said this quickly as if racing through the words would spare them both the embarrassment.

Seifer turned and gave her a long, hard stare. Quistis glanced over at him after several seconds.

"For goodness' sake, keep your eyes on the road!" she exclaimed, pointing at the windscreen.

Seifer chuckled, eyes flicking back to the front. "I have it under control, instructor."

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Just speechless," he mumbled. Wondering for the umpteenth time how the messenger girl got away with this. Trying not to picture Raijin in a g-banger. Or Golden Boy Squall.

Urgh.

Seifer swallowed back some internal vomit. "Keep talking please," he told her in a strained voice. "What else is there?"

"Well, after the beach wear portion it will be physical fitness."

"Oh, excellent - "

"And I do not recommend you fight or do anything involving Hyperion. It's too obvious. You need to stand out."

"Reckon I'll stand out enough in the beach wear part, to be honest."

"Anyway, we can work that one out later. Finally it's the evening wear section while you're being interviewed. And throughout all this, you'll be assessed on how you hold yourself, your posture, your graciousness, your etiquette, et cetera. There's a lot of hidden qualities they'll be watching too."

He let out a low exhale. "Lucky I've got you helping me, eh?"

Quistis gave him a funny look, surprised at the lack of sarcasm and dryness in his tone. "I'll do my best, Seifer," she said with dignity.

Soon they arrived at the strip of shops in Balamb and climbed out after Seifer effortlessly parked the car on the side of the street. It was a typical day in Balamb; balmy, sunny, warm with the smell of the sea washing over the town. Seifer hung back as he waited for Quistis to get out of the car. He had no idea where they were going. He only knew the pub and a couple of cafes and restaurants on this street, as well as the junk shop, and somehow he didn't feel any of those places would be on the agenda. She would have to take the lead today.

According to Zell, Squall had already decided on his outfits for the pageant. Apparently Rinoa had acquired some lush designer pieces from Deling City one weekend through a couple of her old debutante acquaintances.

Upon hearing this, Quistis decided they had to keep up too and arranged this shopping trip, although they would have to settle for the simple Balamb seamstress. Seifer retorted that if he was going drag, he was going to go in style and there was no chance he'd be outshone by Squall, but Quistis reassured him it was the man who maketh the clothes.

"It doesn't matter if your dress is ten gil or ten thousand gil," she'd said emphatically. "It's how you wear it. You'll wear rags better than Squall."

Seifer wasn't so sure about that, but was somewhat pacified by her stroke of confidence in him. Made for a nice change.

"Okay, to Myla's. We'll decide on your two dresses first," Quistis announced as she walked forward, beckoning him.

Seifer dragged his feet, feeling like a child begrudgingly following their mother to the shops. "Why do I need two?"

"One for your dance and one for the evening wear."

"And then a mankini and we're outta here?" he said hopefully.

"Oh, no. You need shoes and jewellery and a few wigs too."

He groaned. As he followed Quistis to the store front, Seifer noticed for the first time what she was wearing. A loose beige top with those fluttery sleeves that he imagined would be the first thing to catch on fire; blue jeans; white sneakers. Casual, simple clothes, but Quistis wore it with such grace and elegance. Her hair was up in its usual twist, but held in place with a long white bow instead of the normal pin.

Without even thinking, perhaps mesmerised by the swish of the ribbon and the hints of red glinting in her hair, Seifer reached out to touch it. Quistis glanced round at him, surprised.

"This is different."

"Oh, yes. It's the weekend, I suppose," she said with a shrug.

"Careful or the Trepies will be out in full force."

"Is that your way of saying it's nice?" she asked, and although her tone was neutral it somehow still sounded like a challenge.

…Damn. She got you there. Is that what you were trying to do?

Seifer snapped his mouth shut as they entered the store. It was clearly a women's shop filled with clothing, shoes and accessories, yet in a neat and orderly manner. It didn't feel cluttered. The bottom level displayed casual wear and was filled with more racks and shelves. A grand balcony staircase was situated in the middle, giving a view of the second level which displayed the fancier dresses - the ones the girls wore to the ball or if they were with their friend getting married or something like that. There were several comfortable chairs up there in front of a huge mirror and Seifer's immediate thought was one of kicking off his shoes and sinking into them until this whole damn thing was over.

Upon entering they were approached by a young man neatly dressed, bowing his head as he welcomed them. Quistis explained that they would begin with browsing and set Seifer the task of having a look on the bottom floor first.

"Upstairs is more formal and probably befitting of what we're looking for," she explained to him. "But that doesn't mean we can't find something good down here. So let's have a poke around first."

Which sounded all good and peachy, but Seifer had no idea what he was looking for. He stumbled around the racks with an expression of apprehension and disbelief.

Holy Hyne. Why is there so much stuff? Why do girls have so many things they can wear?

Somehow he found himself separated from Quistis and in the underwear section. Ah, this is more like it, he thought, gazing around with an air of mischief and curiosity. Geez. There's even ten different types of underwear. Why does it have to be so damn complicated?

"Seifer?" came Quistis' voice. "Where are you?"

Her head popped around the corner just as Seifer gasped outrageously loud, picking up (in his opinion) an obscenely large pair of bloomers. "What is this?"

She wrinkled her nose. "It's underwear."

Seifer gaped at her, then proceeded to measure out the underwear against him for reference. "Uh uh, I don't think so. These might actually fit Raijin. Ain't no lady the size of Raijin."

Exasperated, Quistis snatched the bloomers away from him and placed them neatly back onto the pile. "Well there are, you insensitive wart, now come back to the clothing area."

But it became apparent Seifer couldn't concentrate on the task at hand. In the ten minutes Quistis spent browsing a few more racks, thinking he was doing the same, he knocked down a pile of hats and accidentally broke off the hand of a manikin as he was rearranging its posture.

Good gracious. This is a mistake, she thought despairingly. She watched in trepidation as Seifer emerged triumphantly, holding a bright orange dress over his head.

"Look no further, instructor. Here. I found it. This is it," he declared.

"This is barely enough to cover your torso," Quistis said with a sniff, lifting the sad skimpy excuse of a dress.

"Exactly. Perfect."

"Showing lots of skin does not constitute a good dress. You need class," sighed Quistis, draping the orange rag back over him so that it covered his face. "Let me have a look around upstairs. You put this back in the correct place and then just… sit."

But Seifer wasn't done exploring yet. He poked around the first floor some more, doubling back to the large underwear just to confirm it really was as big as he remembered, before heaving himself up the grand staircase. A smiling lady approached him but left him alone when he jabbed a finger in some random direction and muttered that he was waiting for Quistis.

"Ah, you're another one of Garden's beauty contestants," she said, tilting her head. "Well done to you, sir. Your beautiful girlfriend will be out soon. She has an excellent eye for gowns."

My what? And what does she mean 'another one'? Has someone else already been here? Raijin? Pilot guy? Not Squall, he's too posh for boring ass Balamb.

The woman bowed herself away before Seifer could say anything, so he just flopped down onto a couch in front of a floor-to-ceiling welded mirror.

"Excuse me sir." The young man who had first greeted them had appeared at the top of the stairs and walked over to him, bending forward politely to reveal a box in his hands. "Do you think your girlfriend would be interested in this lovely pair of earrings?"

Seifer's gut lurched, but not in an entirely distasteful way. "We're not together," he said rigidly, side-eyeing the sparkling stones. Go find some other poor sap to rip off.

"Oh really?" Interest flared in the guy's eyes as he straightened up and looked around, "In that case, I'll ask her myself…"

"She's married," Seifer found himself saying loudly. "To some huge dude. Really violent. Jealous type."

"Oh." The worker looked visibly deflated as turned back and descended the stairs. Seifer watched him go grimly.

Unbelievable. Trepies everywhere. They're breeding at alarming rates.

"Seifer?" Quistis walked out from the back of some dress racks, followed by a short old lady with black hair pulled back into a severe bun. "Oh good, you made it up here. Maria, this is him."

The woman named Maria walked forward, peering at Seifer critically through her glasses. "Ah, I see. Stand up, boy. Good Hyne. Tall boy, eh? Very big shoulders." She walked around him, looking him up and down with a frown etched into her face. "We will definitely need to custom make his dress. The largest size won't fit him."

"You sure about that?" Seifer couldn't help saying, "'Cuz there was some underwear downstairs that said otherwise - " He fell silent when Quistis threw him a warning look.

Maria looked at him sternly. "Hmm. Smart mouth too. You'll need to watch that tongue of yours if you want to win this beauty pageant. Good Hyne, what is Cid Kramer doing, allowing such a clown show to happen." Privately Seifer agreed with her, but this connection instantly fizzled out when she looked down and prodded his leg. "Ahhh. Thick thighs too."

"It's muscle," he said, a little wounded, but Maria showed no sign of hearing him. Quistis put a hand over her mouth as she stifled a laugh.

Seifer felt a tad uncomfortable as the stout lady prodded and pinched him all over, mumbling to herself in a way that made him sure she was most unimpressed by his physique. He told himself he didn't care.

"What should we do then if these won't fit him?" asked Quistis, and to Seifer's displeasure she held up a pile of dresses.

Maria pursed her lip, "You will just have to hold them against his frame and see how it looks. Or, his head might fit through the hole. Do that first and decide which one you like, and then I will take his measurements."

Seifer felt like some sort of hideous lab rat as the women made him stand up in front of the mirror ("No standing on box for you, you are like a giant already. My poor back cannot handle it") and he was yanked and pulled around as they held up each dress against him. The women didn't talk to him directly very much, which was insulting, and when Quistis did ask him what he thought his response was always barbed and sarcastic. (What was he supposed to say? They were all hideous). So Quistis stopped asking him, and then Maria told him off for being rude to Quistis, and so he kept his big fat mouth shut, silently hostile and awkward and glaring as they placed dress after dress on him.

At last they decided on two numbers: a green gown that brought out the colour of his eyes (a damn cliched thing if he'd ever heard one), and a dark glittering dress with long sleeves and a flared end that Quistis said would be perfect for the dance. Then as Seifer stood there stiffly while Maria took his measurements and jabbed him with pins, Quistis disappeared and returned with two blonde wigs.

To his utter relief, Quistis decided to call it a day then. Seifer couldn't get out fast enough. Clutching onto the bag of wigs, he grabbed Quistis' arm and practically dragged her out as she called goodbye out to Maria. They picked up some rolls from the bakery, filled with mayo, pate, layers of meat and pickled carrots, and opted to eat in the car as they drove back to Balamb.

"That was pretty good," said Quistis contritely.

Seifer pulled a face. He was driving again and she hadn't bothered fighting him on it. "That was a nightmare. Please tell me we are never going back there again."

"All you had to do was stand there," Quistis shook her head. "Maria is an excellent seamstress, and very sweet. She'll make you some beautiful dresses."

"Sweet?" he snorted. "I've met Blue Dragons more docile than her. She almost stuck a pin into my ass."

Quistis' mouth twitched. "She did not. And if she did, it's because you kept squirming."

"You try standing there for ages!"

"It's what girls do, Seifer," she said patiently. "Anyway, we'll have to come back. We haven't gotten you shoes or other accessories. Oh, and a swimsuit."

Seifer was silent for a second, glumly chewing on his roll which he was eating one-handed as he drove. "No heels," he muttered.

To his relief, Quistis agreed, "No heels. You're tall enough anyway. One less thing to worry about, trying to master walking in them."

"So we're meeting tonight?" Seifer may have had a loose sense of time, but he knew enough that all their sessions now could be in the evening. Thank the good Hyne. The early morning wakes were seriously starting to get depressing.

"Yes. And I was wondering where we should meet. We want it to be private, obviously, and somewhere that won't close once curfew is in place like the library… And I thought your common room might be good but I assume Fujin and Raijin are using it?"

"Yeah. They are. I barely sit in there these days. I feel very unwelcome."

"Well, I thought the best place might be my room."

There was a pause. Seifer coughed as a piece of chilli lodged itself into his throat.

"Your room?" he finally got out, staring at her.

"Eyes on the road," Quistis said plaintively, "and yes. My room."

Seifer was not entirely sure where this feeling of nervousness (and was it excitement?) was coming from, but he looked back onto the road with his fingertips tingling.

"Sure," he kept his voice even. "I'll see you there, I guess."

Was it his imagination, or was Quistis trying to keep her tone casual as well? "See you tonight then."

Unlike his usual patchy sense of punctuality, Seifer felt compelled to turn up early that night. Partly because he'd collapsed onto his bed and fallen asleep after the shopping trip and then woken up to eat an early dinner, and now had nothing to do; and partly because he didn't feel entirely comfortable watching TV in the common room while Raijin and Fujin conversed in terse whispers over their mind map. (It was now several sheets long, taped together).

But mostly it was because he was curious what Quistis' room would look like. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he'd been half-wondering about it ever since they agreed that would be their new session spot.

The instructor wing was located in the far east area of the dormitories and took a few minutes to get there. Already in the corridor Seifer could tell how much larger these rooms were with the doors spaced far apart. At last he reached her room number.

Feeling a bit awkward, Seifer pressed the button. Quistis' voice crackled on a few seconds later, "Hello?" For some reason, he found that both amusing and typical of her. Of course Quistis Trepe would be politely answering the door like that when she knew full well who it was. Who else would come knocking at this hour?

Mischief roused, he leaned in close and hissed, "I know what you did - "

"Come in, Seifer," she interrupted in a I-knew-it tone, and the door slid open. There she stood by the side, dressed in black leggings and a plain blue shirt. The white ribbon was gone now, her head held in place with the regular red pin. Quistis acknowledged him with a slight roll of her eyes and, still snickering to himself, Seifer walked inside and immediately set about looking around the place.

Damn. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be an instructor if this was the sort of pad you were granted. A decent living area, roomy enough to fit a comfortable loveseat and a circular table that currently had a vase of fresh flowers on top of it. Highly aesthetic, like something out of an interior design magazine. His eyes lingered on these briefly. Wonder if some Trepies got her those.

Nah. No way she'd keep them.

There wasn't a full kitchen, but there was a small clean counter with a sink and enough space for a kettle and mini fridge. A narrow short hallway led to what he assumed was her bedroom and ensuite.

But what took Seifer by surprise wasn't the neatness, the orderliness. The beige furniture, the tidy lines of books on the shelves, the patterned cup of expensive pens; these all meshed with the kind of energy Quistis emanated. Even the string of fairy lights across a shelf and the one green plant. The basic vibe. Nothing wrong with it. Just wasn't surprising.

No, what made Seifer raise an eyebrow was how much personality was present in the robot instructor's room. He had been certain her room would be bland and boring. But instead… Seifer was sure any Trepie would wet themselves if they could take a look at her inner domain.

Quistis had two framed pictures hung up on her walls, but they weren't lame prints of colourful Aztec birds or calligraphy that said live-laugh-love or something stupid like that.

One of the pictures he recognised as the Trabian Torama ice hockey mascot, but drawn in a psychedelic style. The Torama was glittering purple with fierce eyes, stretched out in space somewhere with a glowing yellow puck in its jaw. It was seriously kind of cool.

The other picture was a blank Triple Triad board, a watercolour painting with a few extra colours brushed in with the regular beige. Seifer knew squat about art, but even he could tell it was a very well done piece of artwork.

His eyes continued to rove around with great interest.

Most of her shelves were lined with books, from thick volumes on Garden curriculum and battle tactics to sets of trashy romance novels, he noted with amusement. Seifer made a mental note to needle her about them later. No self-help books by those witless 'life coaches', at least. Yikes. Anyone who read those deserved to be tossed into the moat. Chicken-wuss probably had some. On the bottom shelf were a series of Hockey News, all, from what Seifer could tell, in mint condition, once again cementing the strange notion that yes, indeed, Quistis Trepe was a serious ice hockey fanatic.

One shelf in the middle, obviously the crowning glory as it was lit up by a specially placed strip of lights, displayed a line of high level monster cards. Seifer strode over, staring at them for a good five seconds in disbelief.

Finally he looked round at her, brows furrowed. Quistis stood there, quietly and patiently allowing him to observe her room.

"You play Triple Triad?" he demanded.

A smile lifted her mouth, as well as a twinkle in her eyes as if she was enjoying a private joke. "Yes," she answered simply.

"You can't just play," Seifer said in a low voice, almost accusingly. "These cards are nuts. Holy Hyne, is that - "

"That's Zell, yes," she nodded, coming up beside him to point, "and Selphie and Rinoa." Glee and mischief lit up her face, and it completely caught Seifer off guard so that he gazed openly at her for a few seconds. She looked so young, all of a sudden. So approachable and normal and…kinda sexy.

Whoa, where did that come from? Just shut the heck up, Almasy.

"Squall's still mad about that," Quistis was saying with a smug little smile. "He's been trying to get her card back for months."

"Squall?"

"Squall is our resident Card Club King. He holds most of the rare cards, though I know he's lost some here and there."

Seifer set his jaw as he processed this. Bloody Leonhart. The chosen one in damn all everything. What is he, the main character of some story? Without invitation Seifer picked up the sleek black album propped up next to the cards and opened it up. Holy Hyne. It was full of cards, all neatly slotted into pockets according to level and type. Quistis made no movement to stop him and continued to wait as he flicked through it, in a state of awe and disbelief.

Something clicked as he thumbed through the hundreds of cards and then glanced up at the watercolour painting of the Triple Triad board, and Seifer shut his eyes, kicking himself for not realising it earlier. It was so obvious.

"You were the Card King," he said quietly, and he knew it so solemnly in his heart that there was no disagreeing with him.

Quistis simply nodded. "Yes."

"Until Pubes came along."

"Squall suddenly got very good during that whole time Garden became mobile and it was all going a bit haywire," said Quistis reprovingly. "I'm not sure how or why - perhaps it was his way of coping with the enormous pressure placed on him. All I knew was that he was challenging and defeating other members and working his way up."

"Stupid prick," said Seifer nonchalantly, replacing her album back on the shelf. "Want me to beat his ass next sparring session?"

Her mouth twitched. "Don't you do that anyway?"

"Ha." Seifer glanced at her with a slight grin. He was liking this Quistis Trepe more by the minute. "Does he have your card?"

Quistis inclined her head sagely, "Yes. He has most of ours."

"Hold up - does he have mine?"

"…Yes."

Seifer let out a bellowed oath that made Quistis say "Seifer!"

"You have to get it back for me, instructor," he fumed, pacing back and forth, contrasting to her calm standing position.

"It's very difficult to defeat him. We've been drawing a lot lately."

"Otherwise I'm breaking in and taking it back. He can't have my card!" he said loudly, pointing at her door in his indignation. "That's not allowed! Everyone should hold onto their own card!"

Quistis seemed amused. "Did you even know where it was before Squall won it?"

Seifer stopped pacing and straightened up to look at her. "Yeah," he finally said. "The headmaster."

If she was surprised by this, she didn't show it. "He must have had it made up for you. Why didn't he give it to you?"

"He did. Then I lost it to him right before that exam, and then…" Seifer stopped here, looking darkly to the side. Quistis understood and didn't press any further.

"Who had yours?" he gruffed out after a moment's pause.

It was her turn to look slightly uncomfortable, though she tried not to show it. "Squall said he won it off someone in the cafeteria."

Seifer's face twisted into a humourless smile. "A charming Trepie, am I right?"

Quistis neither confirmed nor denied it, but simply said, "There's a few counterfeits floating around so I thought maybe that was one of them, but no, Squall really had the real deal. And no," she added sternly, "you cannot go breaking into Squall's dorm. Who knows what magic Rinoa'll fire at you if she thinks you're an intruder. You'll just have to get it back the good old fashioned way."

He groaned, flopping down onto her couch and grabbing a cushion to hug. "I freaking suck at Triple Triad. I don't even have any cards. Can I use yours?"

Quistis' eyes darted to her prized cards then back to him. He already knew what her answer would be, and he didn't blame her. She was probably mentally working out how many cards she'd lose if she lent them to him.

"…No," she said delicately. "But I'll try win yours back for you. I'll ask him to put it in play at our next game."

With that settled they began their pageant work. First Quistis rattled off a whole bunch of history facts about Garden that effectively put him to sleep within twenty minutes. With a long, drawn out sigh she pulled on his ear to wake him up, causing more swearing and yelling. Then they were testing out the two different wigs with Seifer intermittently wincing as she stabbed hair pins into his skull.

Finally she stood back away from him, gesturing to the mirror with an accomplished air. "Have a look."

Seifer wasn't sure he was ready for this, but taking a rallying breath and prepared for the worst, he turned his head and raised his eyes to his reflection.

His own face stared back, sea green eyes, light scar to the bridge of his nose. But at the same time, it wasn't him. Maybe it had been awhile since he'd looked properly in the mirror, but those eyes weren't… as haunted as they used to be.

The hair was something else too. So much of it. Blonde locks fell down on either side of his face, stopping a little past his shoulders. Honestly, if he squinted, he could almost believe he was a girl.

"…It's actually not bad," Seifer finally said, turning his head this way and that.

Quistis nodded enthusiastically, touching the hair - his hair, he realised, and that made him feel a little weird. "I think you're really quite pretty," she said earnestly. "It matches your natural hair colour. You can almost believe it's your hair grown out. We may need to clean up those eyebrows though."

Seifer recoiled away from her, frowning severely. "Uh uh, I ain't waxing, tweezing, shaving, plucking anything. Hair stays on the body. It's a man code."

She pursed her lip, still surveying his scowling face critically in the mirror. "Hmm. We'll see."

There was a chime at the door then, startling both of them until Quistis checked the time and exclaimed, "Oh, it's Irvine for the dance practice!"

"We're dancing in here?"

"Yes, I'll move the table and there should be enough space. I thought it would be better to keep it here from now on. No chance anyone can just walk past and spy on us, you know."

As she crossed the room to unlock the door, Seifer's mind unwittingly flew to a very different scene of him and Quistis in her room with the danger of someone spying on them.

"Howdy," rang out Irvine's voice, causing the scene in Seifer's mind to implode.

"Hi, Irvine," said Quistis brightly, walking him inside to where Seifer was seated at the table in front of a mirror. "Take a look at your partner! Isn't she pretty?"

Irvine glanced at the glaring Seifer up and down, expression unreadable for a moment. "Pretty big lady, I'd say," the cowboy finally remarked.

Seifer stuck out his lower jaw and scowled, "You want a piece of this?"

Both Quistis and Irvine stared. Irvine looked a little unnerved, which suited Seifer just fine. After all those nauseating comments in their dance sessions, anything that caused him discomfort was welcome.

Finally Irvine let out a low chuckle, as if to himself. "Pardon me, but it's a little scary," he said, gesturing out one arm in his characteristic way. "Such a big pretty lady with that deep voice."

"We may need to work on that voice too," agreed Quistis with a laugh before moving over to turn on the music. "Alright lady and gentleman, let's practise again."

The practice went by smoothly enough. Irvine and Seifer had come leaps and bounds since their initial practice, and for the first time Quistis had nothing critical to say. She simply smiled at them when they finished in their final pose, hands clasped together, and Seifer knew at that moment that they had nailed it. With the traditional waltz under the belt, the boys began to decide and argue on the dance moves they would continue with. They had different opinions on practically everything; song choice, style, opening move. Quistis didn't interject much here, deciding they knew better than she did, but she was good at finding a compromise when the boys refused to budge.

At last they were done and Irvine left first while Quistis ran through some last minute history revision with Seifer. To his relief he managed to recall most answers. Maybe sleeping through her lectures put his mind in such a zen state that it gave him photographic memory.

At least Quistis seemed pleased enough. In fact, as she looked at him thoughtfully after the final round of questions, she said, "Thank you for a good day, Seifer. The shopping, the dance, the history… I think you're making good progress."

Seifer blinked, unused to such a discourse. "Wow," he let out a low whistle. "I don't think I've ever heard you say that to me before."

"What? That you're doing well?"

"Yep."

Quistis' face became a little pained. "You slept in most of my classes and drew pictures of - things - all over your exam papers. I could hardly congratulate you on that."

He grinned, eyes alight cheekily. "Yeah, but they were good drawings, right?"

She just shook her head. "Regardless, well done, Seifer. If you win, I'm not sure what will have been my biggest achievement: guiding you to become a SeeD, or guiding you to become an outstanding lady."

Her manner was in jest, it was a light-hearted comment, but for a second, Seifer was taken-aback as he let her words sink in. Of course he knew that she'd been the one, really the only instructor, willing to take him on board after he'd returned to Garden. He'd been too consumed by a myriad of sinister feelings and thoughts to really remember that time. Making SeeD was a purpose that helped him push past all that darkness.

But now, having emerged from the other side somewhat less damaged, Seifer was starting to appreciate just how much Quistis had done for him. Sure, all he could recall was that she'd been unemotional, stern and rigid, and had probably only done it because Headmaster Cid made her, but still... she'd stuck by him. Even if he'd been less-than-pleasant during all of it.

Quistis tilted her gaze warily at him, wondering why he was suddenly looking so intently at her. "What?" she asked, attempting to sound more uncaring and disdainful than she really felt.

Seifer just continued to give her a piercing, disarming stare, until he finally said, "I'm tired of being the lady." Wincing, he tucked his fingers between his scalp and the wig and, sliding out the pins, pulled off the waves of blonde hair. He tossed it on top of the table and then beckoned nonchalantly at her. "Come on."

"What?" she asked again, though some of the scorn melted away and now she seemed more confused.

For answer Seifer took a step closer and tugged her up by the hand, and Quistis couldn't explain where the butterflies in her stomach had come from or why she was so very aware of his large, warm presence in that instant. He placed his other one on her waist and, twisting his body round, turned back on the music. A slow, gentle ballad began to play.

Seifer started to move along with the music as if this was the most natural thing in the world; nothing complicated, just a gentle sway and step, and Quistis found herself following along.

"I just wanna lead a dance," he murmured, somewhere above her head. "Is this alright?"

"…I suppose so." She had to tell her beating heart to calm down. You're just dancing. With Seifer. It's not the first time.

He eyed her. "You look terrified. I don't bite, you know. Not always."

Quistis looked up then, determined, as she always was when he made any disparaging comments about his reputation, to try and convince him otherwise, but when she found him looking right back down at her she felt her mouth go dry. Had… he always been so tall? And smelt so good? And made her feel so inexplicably jumpy and frail?

"I know you don't," she muttered.

Seifer glanced at her through dark lashes. "Are you scared of me, Trepe?"

Another heart skip, but not one of fear. "No," she said a little defiantly.

"Good," he murmured. "Don't need any more of those."

There it was again. Spurred by her purpose in this, Quistis looked up at him seriously and said, "There's probably less in the world than you think, Seifer."

He gazed at her for a moment, looking from one eye to the other as if trying to detect falsehood, before bending his head and chuckling. "Damn, when you say it in that bossy way I'm more inclined to believe it, instructor." The way he said it brought a wry smile to Quistis' face. Well, that wasn't a bad reply. At least he's not pushing me away like he once would.

Then, as they moved in silence for a few more seconds, he muttered again with a relieved sigh, "Thank Hyne. This is way better than being the girl. I feel like my manhood has returned."

Quistis chuckled quietly and the corner of Seifer's mouth quirked up in response, and the air between them settled and softened like the sun before dusk as they swayed to the music.