Truth Be Told
Chapter 2: Dance For Your Death, Cinderella
A wisp of suspicion clawed away at the young female agent's stomach; why would they not come back?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rinoa sat on the edge of her bed, separated by half her wardrobe and the empty suitcase perched on the other side. She was too frustrated with her lack of suitable clothing choices to recognize Seifer's voice across the hall.
"Are you ready to go?"
"Go where?" She called absentmindedly, fussing with the tangle of garments.
"For the dinner with your father!" Seifer replied as he emerged from the hallway, leaning against her doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
"Oh--crap!" She lifted the article of clothing to cover her mouth. "I completely forgot, and the bank scheduled me for a business trip to Timber, and--" She stopped her ramblings when she saw the irritated look on his face.
"It's my job."
"I know." He looked down at his feet a moment before walking away, his silence telling her exactly how displeased he was.
Rinoa had anticipated his reaction, but the knowledge did nothing to soften her own distress; things were going to get complicated. Frustrated, she threw a few chosen garments into her suitcase before collapsing on the cluttered bed in a miserable heap.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Masquerade! Hide your face, so the world will never find you!
Music sounded, trumpets signaling that the dance had officially commenced. On opposite sides of the dance floor, Rinoa and Irvine threaded their way through the throng of party-goers, eyes examining the multitude of visitors for their eventual target.
Irvine and Rinoa's goal was simple: find the area where the experiments were being held, map out the region, and return back home safely. Irvine would provide the look-out while Rinoa infiltrated the area; the chance of anyone observing their actions in the crowded ballroom was slim-to-none.
However, the agents did not anticipate the level of fascination they would have with the ostentatious scene they found themselves in; they were virtually captivated at the grand spectacle playing out before them, minds momentarily forgetting about the task at hand; their astonished faces blended in with the rest of the astonished guests. At least their distraction was not a detriment to their mission; their overwhelmed expressions helping to look less suspicious during such an auspicious occasion.
Irvine Kinneas was clad in his best socializing gear, all white silks and leathers, plush and beautiful perfectly accentuating his tall frame. He skittered towards the unattended side entrance, and inhaled deeply before looking with slight desperation over the assembled citizens for his partner Rinoa.
During the mission debrief, Cid Kramer had been adamant about this being strictly a reconnaissance mission, but Irvine wished he could bust through those heavily guarded doors, knock some teeth in, and steal the Estharian experiments; anything to be finished with this mission and out of his uncomfortable costume--his ridiculously uncomfortable costume.
They had been instructed about their covers the previous day; unfortunately for Irvine, he was to become, essentially, a social geek; his cover included the charming idiosyncrasies of biting his lip, twiddling his fingers, stuttering, and speaking with an outlandish lisp. The fact that Irvine could not flirt with the many available females was more of a torture than his absurd attire.
"A swankin' party, full of single hotties, and I won't be able to get any chicks" He spoke out loud to no one in particular, though his voice carried through the microphones both Rinoa and he stealthily wore hidden in their garments as nondescript accessories.
"Stutter more when you say that, Irvine darling." Rinoa's voice conveyed clearly through the earpiece, but he still found her to be nowhere in sight. "If you really need a 'chick', I can set you up with my roommate; you remember Selphie from the company picnic--"
"--I don't need any help getting chicks, thank you," he interrupted, his eyes still scanning the crowd for her. The party would only be a couple of hours long, but the mission needed to be put into effect immediately; the sooner he could get out of his nerd gear the better.
"Where the hell are you Rinoa?"
It was quite easy to lose someone within the Grand Ballroom, easy enough to lose what could have been your prince charming, your knight in shining armor, your soul mate, like Cinderella at midnight, lost among the crowds as she fled.
The massive ballroom was a cylindrical room with a high iridescent glass-domed ceiling, decorated with both ivory and gold accents. Thick, long swathes of rich silk hanged from the high ceiling, flowing along the walls to the radiant floor. A decadent presentation, and compared to other similar balls held throughout the year, this one seemed to be the most extravagant of them all.
"Esthar sure has become…what's that one big word that I'm looking here for… o--os--ostentatious, don't you think so Squall?" a hyper young blond commented through a mouthful of cocktail-weenies. His companion just rolled his eyes before absently shaking the hair out of his vision.
The energetic blond bounded happily down the stairs in search for his lost comrade, as he had become separated from him in the first few seconds they had entered the ballroom. A red velvet lined cloak was thrown over his shoulders, and he did not wear a mask like some of the other guests, but a pirate's eye-patch over his right eye, showing off the intricate tattoo lines that covered an entire side of his face.
"Squall?"
Squall was there beside his tattooed friend and had been for some time, mingling in a generally social manner with the other guests. A silent, polite chuckle escaped his lips, not that he was particularly amused with his oblivious friend; this was all mandatory behavior on his part.
Unlike his tattooed counterpart, the young man named Squall was decked out in his expensive formal apparel; the finely tailored coat was a dark shade of blue, and edged in a silken black fabric. He was dressed simply yet elegantly, black slacks matching the fine shirt he wore underneath the coat. A dark shock of hair fell just barely over the eye surrounded by a pure white mask that covered half of his face, the icy blue iris standing out in sharp contrast to the dark strands. At the edge of the mask near the center of his face the beginning of a scar was in view. At first glance it was just the slightest hint of scarred flesh, but in fact it was far more than it appeared to be. That mysterious scar held a curious nature to it, a clandestine past that remained in hiding; masks were capable of hiding more than just scars this evening.
"Hn. We're here for one reason alone; we might as well just get it all over with Zell," Squall forcefully muttered through gritted teeth. Unfortunately, tonight's duty called for Squall to be more sociable; he rarely endured formal events such as this, as they were definitely his least favorite obligations to his profession. But he knew how to act, how to keep a pleasant expression on his face, and how to let half his mind wander to prevent himself from going insane with boredom.
Squall's gaze moved over the party's commotion behind Zell, a vast amount of people occupied the entrance; the only places that weren't cramped were the spaces along the walls or the middle of the ballroom. The latter was clearly not an option, as he did not feel like becoming an easy target for the blood-thirsty girls looking to dance. Cautiously, he backed away from the crowd until he felt the safety of the wall pressed against his back. He gently leaned limp against the adjacent pillar, its cold marble surface cooling his back through the coat he wore, eyes cast to the ground after lifting only once to take in the vast ballroom's entirety.
The marble floor seemed to glow with an inner light all its own, lighting up the rosy faces of the dancers, but the real illumination came from the high torches set on each of the columns holding the ceiling and dome up. They were elaborate objects, shaped like huge cornucopias with transparent ivory windows on each side. It gave the whole of the hall a bright, yet somewhat subdued feel to it.
"Angel to Lone Ranger, I'm in."
The angel Rinoa stood, waiting at the top of the marble staircase; a veil of light streamed in, capturing her in a torrent of shimmering luminescence. She was the quintessential angelic form among the revelers: long, white gown billowing from an imaginary wind, draping across her petite figure like dripping water, her hair was let free to cascade in a river of slender onyx fibers.
"Hyne…Where have you been, my angel?" Irvine joked, finally spotting her under the lofty arches of the stairway, as if anyone could miss her. "You seem to have forgotten your wings."
"The Belle of the ball never arrives on time, Irvine," Rinoa remained still, uncertain if he had taken notice of her.
Her inquisitive eyes scanned the floor below; couples were moving below her, growing thicker, surrounding her, drawing her into them in swirling waves of a colorful grace. She watched the scene from her vantage point a moment longer before disengaging herself from the pressing throng of onlookers and their critical glares, determined to succeed in her mission despite the thorn of anxiety Cid had imbedded in her abdomen.
One elegant leg followed the other; her hands gripping the railing as she took her first steps down the spiraling staircase, slippered feet carrying her across each marble step. An understated elegance was carried by her figure as she made her decent; the voluminous folds of pale ivory slid across her body, whispering as they flowed from her lithe waist.
Rinoa's rhythmic footsteps sent a trance into the hearts of every man attending the revelry; she was utterly captivating to watch, ensnaring men's senses in a vice-like grip, holding their appreciative stares in a way that unnerved the poor agent. She crossed over the steps, seemingly a fearless lioness, knowing the dangers that could unfold at the smallest mistake, smallest falter in her plan, smallest falter in her step…
Slip!
Months of etiquette classes failed to prepare her for the effects of overly polished marble flooring on ballet slippers. The slick floor had caused her to stumble, and before she could even land a hand upon the railing, one light blue slipper shot precariously off her dainty toes, into the air, before hitting Zell, the poor hot-dog eating gentleman square in the face.
"What in Hyne's name?" Zell choked, swallowing what last bits of meat that didn't fly out of his mouth. A baffled Squall was brought out of his distant musings by his companions abrupt swearing, and the light blue slipper that rolled to a stop at his feet.
Squall barely had time to register the flurrying of skirts out of the corner of his eye.
The voluminous folds of her gown were sent swirling around her as she dangled herself unsteadily on the tips of little toes, balancing like an ungraceful ballerina: hands flailing above her head, left leg flying outwards as she tried to regain her stability upon the staircase.
Those last few toes that held so dearly to the stairs were ready to leave their secure spot and send her falling into the arms of her destiny. Rinoa let out a mumbled squeak--more like a plea for help, as she frantically searched for a foot hold, a railing, anything! All final attempts were ultimately useless; she was falling now; eyes squeezed shut as she braced herself for the final impact at the bottom of the stairs.
In one swift, fluid motion arms were around her, pulling her safely into an embrace. Her impact with the ground was soft, cushioned, and even--warm? Rinoa blinked, barely registering being shifted onto the cool flooring. Looking up, the chandeliers' direct light blinded her senses temporarily before the glare was blocked by the dark outline of her savior.
"Are you okay?" Her rescuer spoke to her still-confused form, his soft breath warm against her cheeks. His arms remained secure around her middle, not sure if he should help Rinoa to her feet incase she was suffering from a case of vertigo, or possibly drunk from the consumption of too much wine. This was a party after all. His abrupt, agitated sigh implied his annoyance at their continued close proximity, and her failure to respond.
"Hey, you caught a good looking one there Squall!" Zell joked as he leaned over the two, interrupting their awkward moment.
"I'm…fine." Rinoa simply replied, too disoriented by her fall to move a muscle; all she could do was gaze up at the man who had saved her from certain bone-crushing embarrassment. As she struggled to untangle herself from his arms, her soft, chocolate eyes finally met his cold, pale azure ones—and she froze instantly.
"Um…thank you very much." Rinoa stammered, forgetting that she was still in his arms; the only thing she could do was stare into the most captivating cobalt blue eyes she had ever seen. Fortunately, or possibly unfortunately depending on how you look at the situation, Irvine's urgent message gave her little time to gawk at the strangers piercing stare.
"Rinoa are you okay?" Irvine, however, didn't leave her anytime to respond, "There's going to be a change of plans. The guards are switching shifts, and I'm going to make my way down; our window of opportunity won't be open for much longer so I need you to be ready to hand off that grid analyzer."
Rinoa had little time to process the information given before she saw Irvine cutting through the thick crowd. She effortlessly flipped the device covertly disguised as an expensive tube of lipstick from her purse, and into her concealed palm; quick motions that were trained for years, like magicians taught to deceive the eyes.
"My dear, my dear, it seems you've had a nasty fall," Irvine said as he approached her, pushing up on the rim of his fake glasses to convey a look of professionalism. "Let me have a look at that ankle."
Irvine crouched down to examine Rinoa's ankle, enjoying the potentially teasing moment that he obtained by tickling her calves. He knew she would never break character and slap him, so he allowed himself to enjoy it while he could. Of course, he knew later that Rinoa would induce severe pain into his groin area.
"Does it look okay…Doctor?" Zell inquired, finally recovered from the hit on his head and concerned for the girl in Squall's arms.
Squall's agitated sigh didn't break Irvine's concentration on his detailed "examination" of Rinoa's ankle. In actuality, Irvine's professional skills were being used to their complete potential. Using his left hand to smooth the area around her ankle, his right hand went to work sifting through the folds of her skirt where Rinoa had hidden the small device—their audience completely unaware of his actions.
"Hmm…"
After searching for a few seconds, Irvine's fingers finally brushed across the device's cool metal surface. He snatched it from the folds of her skirts, spinning the tube of lipstick in his fingers; he then slid it easily into the sleeve of his evening coat before giving her a gentle tap on her covered thigh, showing that he was finished with his examination.
"Well…," Irvine stood from his position and turned to speak to Squall, who still reluctantly held Rinoa in his arms, "Stay here and watch her, but make sure you keep her on her feet to walk it off. I'll be back with some ice and a bandage for that ankle."
Before Squall could open his mouth to protest, Irvine had turned on his heel, making a fast escape out of the ballroom. Squall was left standing there glaring daggers at Zell, who currently held a cocky smirk plastered on his face. He was trying not to notice the delicate woman he held in his stiff arms, but there was this little annoying fact that she seemed to not want to let go. He chewed on the inside of his lip in agitation before unceremoniously thrusting her up from the ground and placing her on her own two feet.
After a moment's awkward silence, Rinoa decided it would be best to be polite. "Thank you, I'm sorry about all of this," she sincerely said to the two men.
Finally realizing that her fist still held securely onto the sleeve of her savior's overcoat, she quickly blushed, yanking the hand away and hiding it innocently behind her back like a child who had been caught stealing from the cookie jar.
"Zell, would you…" Squall had every intention of thrusting the girl onto his companion, but as he turned around to face him, he only found and empty space where Zell had once stood. Glancing around Squall found his missing comrade waving to him, and bounding towards the exit, yelling quite loudly, "I'll take care of that little thing we need to get done!"
Squall grumbled to himself, he would've preferred to take care of their business himself, not trusting Zell completely to finish anything correctly. He would have just stood there complaining had he not seen the young girl wobble her way over to the pillar that he once leaned against. He watched silently as she steadied herself on her good foot, using the pillar for balance, to check on the injured ankle. It was beginning to turn a dark shade of purple, and was slightly swollen along the bottom of the bone, but the young girl didn't flinch or wince—hell, she hadn't complained once about being in any pain. He found himself admiring her fortitude, but quickly dismissed the emotion and turned away from her again.
Sensing she was being watched, Rinoa glanced up smiled warmly at Squall's profile. "It's all right, just a little swollen."
"…" Squall replied with a blank stare and a nod of his head, not even bothering to turn back around and face her, and not sure why he was being completely speechless towards her.
There was something about the girl and her lack of senseless whining (that one so often endured in high-society occasions) that enticed Squall's interest, but he was quick to not dwell on it, convincing himself that their confrontation was merely an annoyance to him. He would have enjoyed the rest of the night alone in the shadows while Zell worked on their important business agenda, but it seemed he was too cocky to assume that the young girl he rescued would just let him be because out of the corner of his eye he saw her making her way straight for him.
"I'm really glad the most handsome guy in here caught my fall." She half joked, expecting a small laugh from her savior, but instead she was met with his cold, hard stare.
"Hn. Whatever."
Now this really wasn't the kind of flirting she was hoping to produce, and after his cold remark she was determined not to let him go that easily; even if it seemed annoying, and even if it took everything she got, she was going to make sure he enjoyed it.
"Have you ever danced at one of these things? I'm not one for dancing, myself—unless it's with a cute stranger like you." She was trying to control the laughter building up in her stomach, watching the man squirm as he brushed past her, towards the nearest exit. "Of course, I don't think I'll be doing any dancing tonight; what a shame."
"I don't dance." He said sternly, glancing behind him once to see her amused expression as he walked away.
Seeing that she was about to miss any opportunity to dance, she clumsily moved towards him, catching up to his quickened pace, and successfully snagging his upper arm into a surprisingly strong grip. "Don't think just because you saved me you can get away that easily, mister."
Squall stopped, too dumbfounded at her intimidating speech to reply; that and he was half amazed at her ability to move quickly while injured, and half startled that he wasn't tearing her hand off of him.
"Well since we're here, we might as well dance." Rinoa replied, noticing his silence as the perfect time to take advantage of the fact that they were currently standing in the middle of the dance floor. She awkwardly side-stepped in front of him only to bump into his side, his balance momentarily lost. He staggered backwards, hands shooting up defensively to either push her away or catch her--he wasn't quite sure which. She didn't waste her next opportunity, placing his right hand onto her hip before linking his other hand in her own.
"And now we dance."
He looked at her handiwork, noticing his fingers were locked securely in her unrelenting hold. He could have easily broken the grip, but that would cause a scene; and speaking of causing scenes, the other dancers were glaring intently at the two of them. Looking down at his prone feet he decided there was no getting out of this situation, and he was a master at getting out of unnecessary situations.
Ignoring his pride he gracelessly began to shuffle his feet from side to side, successfully twisting their legs together as feet fumbled over feet. As his feet pushed him forward he violently pummeled into the girl, inciting a small wince of pain from her soft lips. Somehow that worked to his advantage because her fingers slipped away from his, and he was finally free. Whether it was from embarrassment or plain annoyance, he hastily turned on his heels to storm off without so much of an apology. His victory was short lived, however, as she quickly yanked his retreating form back to her and readjusted their stance, placing her left hand onto his shoulder and pulling him closer.
They started up again, albeit only a little better than they had first begun, swaying back and forth to catch the music's rhythmic beat before continuing with the dance steps. They managed to twirl in unison for only five seconds before they crashed yet again, this time into an expertly dancing couple.
Squall watched, timidly keeping his grip on her hand as the duo exploded into a series of insults, but quickly blanched as Rinoa countered with a few of her own, "Why don't you watch where you're going you wannabe-dancing-queen, and don't get me started on you…you…you no good, left-footed twerp!"
So much for not making a scene.
After effectively finishing the argument, Rinoa turned to Squall, admiring his profile while he stared at the retreating couple. "I might be injured, but let's show them how it's done."
Squall turned his gaze back to her, shocked and once again amazed. Hearing the musical instruments pick up speed with the orchestra's raised crescendo, he skillfully glided her slender figure across the floor; he was undoubtedly talented in his precise movements, guiding her gracefully and fluidly through the crowd while she effortlessly followed his lead. A stain of color flushed her face scarlet as he spun her expertly, ruffling her abyss of skirts into the air as he twirled her a final time.
An intimate silence washed over them as they finished, the room dimming into darkness with only the moonlight to bathe their surroundings in pale opalescence. Their fingers remained linked as her body was pulled to him, pressed firmly against his chest and hips. His intense gaze sent an involuntary shiver down her back. Looking down into her coy expression he swallowed with difficulty, forcing himself to look away.
Breaking the silence, Rinoa pressed her face into his chest as childish chuckles consumed her body. She was trembling from laughter while trying to hide her blushing face from him, "You know, I forgot to ask you your name…"
She never had the chance to finish as abrupt flashes of brightly colored lightning filled the sky. A sequence of explosive fanfare followed shortly, chorusing throughout the building, and effectively shaking its foundation.
Her question was soon forgotten as she her fists tightly gripped the lapels of his outer coat, an involuntary action that would have sent her reeling from embarrassment had they been under less extreme circumstances.
"What's happening?" she managed to screech over the sound of creaking glass that was being bent forcibly under the intense heat and pressure of the explosion
Electrical discharges ignited the atmosphere, sending hundreds of volts throughout the sky, temporarily illuminating it with artificial daylight. Abruptly heated air sent more shockwaves through the Earth, launching the first surge of sonic explosions: windows shattered, falling to the ground as tiny torrential threats, wooden pillars creaked and finally crumbled under the intense pressure exerted, random fires ignited along the exits, and mass panic soon erupted within the cramped ballroom.
A seismic tremor shook the marble flooring, sending a large crack right through the middle of the parquet; most of the horrified dancers had managed to avoid it, but some had tripped, falling to the floor and scraping against the sharpened surface.
Rinoa turned around, finding her dance partner gone. A sudden panic ebbed into her senses, not sure why his disappearance scared her so. Her voice hitched in her throat, unsure if it was panic induced or the mere fact that she couldn't call out his name…didn't even know his name.
"Let's go…"
The voice was all she heard before a firm grip encased her forearm, dragging her over the busted marble. Normally, she would have assumed it was Irvine, but the voice hadn't belonged to him. She twisted her head at the man as she staggered through the debris; one quick glance and she knew it was him—her savior and subsequent dance partner--he hadn't left her after all.
"You need to hurry up!" he grunted, pulling her tiny form behind him. His escape would have been a lot faster had the girl not been slightly injured.
"I'm trying" she winced, her ankle rolling to the side painfully. Her right slipper had fallen off her foot again, and she tried to turn to retrieve it, but he pushed her forward, unrelenting in his grasp.
They were finally nearing the exit as thick swarms of smoke began to fill in. Squall obviously sensed the nearing threat that the smoke signaled, quickening his pace faster than Rinoa could keep up. She slowed her strides, the smoke clouding her vision, burning into her eyes and lungs so that she had to wretch free of his hold. Bending at the waist she breathed with difficulty, wheezing with every smoked filled intake of air.
Squall had only taken a few steps before finding himself alone. Spinning quickly through the haze of black, he found her--only arms length away, her shoulders shaking as she tried to control her breathing.
Rinoa looked up at him when she felt the small pressure of a hand against her back. She felt like she couldn't go any further: her ankle hurt, her eyes burned, and breathing was becoming increasingly difficult with each step towards the exit-- but this was nothing she told herself; nothing compared to the past situations that were definitely more disastrous than her present one.
Looking up, she had to smile at him, enjoying how his eyebrows furrowed at the perplexing nature of the action. The moment was cut short as a stray pillar separated itself from the ceiling to descend upon them. Rinoa was quick to take action, knowing that the man's back was facing the impending column. She pitched herself forward, covering his body as best she could with her small frame.
Arms encircled her waist holding tightly onto her before instant pain shattered her form, sending her into black nothingness.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Can you at least tell me why you've been so sidetracked lately?" Seifer yelled from the hall, storming back into her room and letting out his pent-up anger from their prior altercation.
"Can you tell me why it even matters?" As Rinoa replied, her voice seemed to carry itself one octave above Seifer's and brought the argument into a full-blown screaming match, well past the point of their usual fights and into more dangerous territory.
"Of course it matters to me, Rinoa! You haven't been yourself lately!"
Rinoa sighed, lowering her voice, "It shouldn't matter to you Seifer; it never has before."
"It matters to me because you're my fiancé!"
"Seifer…" But she couldn't say anything else; there was some truth in what Seifer was saying, and in the end she felt that she couldn't lie to him anymore. He needed to know the truth. "There are some things I need to tell you…" She roughly grabbed his collar, yanking him closer to her, within whispering distance. "I need you to listen to me carefully..."
Rinoa took a deep breath before voicing the dubious words. "I don't work for the bank. I'm an undercover officer for SeeD."
There was a moment of silence after she uttered her secret, ended sharply as Seifer laughed whole-heartily at the pure absurdity of her confession. "You?" he said incredulously. He didn't believe her.
Rinoa tried explaining, to show him that she was not making a pathetic attempt at a joke. "Well, not exactly. It's a covert branch of SeeD, specializing in weapons deals, advanced technology, and government funded black ops." The words, coming out of her mouth sounded so strange. She had never really said them to herself before, let alone another person.
"You're serious. You're actually serious." Seifer was stunned. She had just dealt him the hugest blow of a lifetime.
Rinoa made one last feeble attempt for secrecy. "Now that I've told you this, you can't tell anyone!"
"I know."
"I'm serious Seifer. What I'm doing is securing the future and safety of everyone on this planet." She could not meet his gaze; she didn't want to see the look in his eyes anymore…
"You're serious? I can't believe this... I can't believe you." He shook his head, reaching up to grab her lithe hand that still held him close to her; it would have been an affectionate gesture had he not instantly torn the hand off of him, and turned on his heel to storm out.
This left Rinoa taken aback; after a few seconds pause, she realized that she needed to chase after him. "Seifer!" After he didn't reply, she yelled again. "Wait! Will you be back so we can talk about this when I get back from my—um, trip?"
"I'll think about it."
The lack of words told her all that he meant to say, and she knew at that moment that hope of reconciliation was slim. The door swung closed behind him, and Rinoa found herself collapsing onto her bed for the second time that day.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Watch out!"
She screamed as she jolted awake, twisting the plain, white sheets until they finally fell to the floor below. Above her, the bare ceiling reflected the spring sun into her eyes as she rubbed them, wiping away the foggy covering that signified she had been in the dream world for an extended length of time.
"Ah! The angel finally wakes up."
The voice was recognizable instantly; she pushed herself up to see his amused expression, not noticing that the source of his amusement was currently her and the revealing hospital gown.
Sitting up, Rinoa gasped as she finally registered how little the paper-like gown actually covered, quickly using one of the pillows behind her to cover her legs.
"Why… hello, Doctor Irvine!"
"Good, you do remember!" he replied, deciding to gently tap her exposed thigh like he had the night before, if just to tease her more.
Rinoa half contemplated shoving the pillow down his throat, but as she leaned forward within striking distance, a wave of pain filtered over her face. Hazily lifting her hand to her temple where the pain was centered. She stroked the gauze bandage gently, vaguely remembering the mass explosions that encompassed the room, and her effort to pull the stranger she danced with down to the ground as a broken support beam went flying in their direction.
"Seems you took a nasty hit on the head; I didn't know you made it out until I got a call from Cid saying you were here at your favorite resort, Loire Memorial Hospital!"
She rolled her eyes, remembering how many times she'd been taken to this same hospital over the years; they probably had a room already reserved for her. Luckily only a few knew how many times she was sent to the hospital from her maladroit antics. Government funding from Deling had made Loire Memorial Hospital the most secure SeeD infirmary.
"Well that takes care of the 'why' and the 'where' for me, but why are you here?" she questioned, her voice weighed down with that same thorn of anxiety.
"Good deductions, Rinoa." he sighed, switching his speech into a more serious tone. "Cid sent me…"
"Cid sent you…" Her voice trailed off as a second wave of apprehension washed over her. She knew anything attached to Cid's name was never good.
"Rinoa I know this is going to be hard for you but…" Irvine breathed heavily, averting his eyes to the colorless tiles beneath his feet. "This morning…"
"Irvine…" she spoke hesitantly, unconsciously gripping the pillow upon her lap.
"Rinoa, this morning they… they found Seifer dead. I'm so sorry…"
Authors Note: OMG, I hope it doesn't suck really bad.
I'm extremely sorry about the antagonizing slow update.
I'd like to thank Devy (Qui-ti), the best beta-wife/click-twin a girl could have! I love you! click
An especially big thank you to Tsukinio Kaze who bares my wrath on a daily basis. Thanks for putting up with my insanity, you're a wonderfully talented write...now get back to work whip-whip By the way, everyone should read her Squinoa masterpiece, Lives In Choosing
Finally another big thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story--I hope you're all still interested: Bakura-star-Ryou-cutie, Ayato, Leonblade, Stardust Ray, 4ngelique, Lady-Rinoa14, it started with a kiss, and Tsukino Kaze.