"Hey ya know, Shir. We might oughtta (hic!) head back to the tent…gotta get up early to practish for the joushting. Gotta (hic!) kick shome ash and defend the lady'sh honor! Huzhzhaaaa…" Fujin chuckled as she slowly sipped her wine. For all his size, Rajin could hold his booze about as well as a baby moomba. Only finished with two small glasses of sugared red wine and the colossus was already sliding off the bench. Seifer and half the gathered performers laughed loudly, clinging mugs and glasses together when she commented on his less-than-impressive drinking capacity. "PUSSY."

Fujin was thankful that they had gotten to the party late, missing their chance to snag the coveted fireside table from the beaded and bangled mystic, currently sipping her tea and enjoying the warmth of the blazing fire. Considering that Rajin couldn't hold more than a few ounces of wine, he would have probably fallen into that same fire instead of simply rolling onto the floor. And speaking of that old woman, her peculiar indigo eyes had not left Seifer's figure all night. Weird sister, indeed.

"Come on, Seifer! Another tale, another drink!"

"Yes! Sing your songs again!"

"Aye! Let's have another cheer for our brave White Knight, who but two days hence shall defeat the cowardly Black Knight and break the bow of the Emerald Ranger! Huzzah!" White clad supporters raised their cups, saluting their champion. They were few in number, but their loyalty and tenacity were already legend in the brief history of the faire. Men and women in green and black watched the group of tables with angry bruised faces and steely black-eyed glances. Since the victory of the Black Knight the day before, fights and brawls between warring fan factions had increased. It seemed that every joust won by Leonhart and every arrow shot by the keen hand of Kinneas increased the insults and boastful threats of the Almasy faithful. The arrogance of their leader seemed to be contagious, invading the faire with an outbreak of smirks and cocky swagger that brought the other groups to fevered fury. And failure seemed to aggravate the condition.

"Hey, shut up!"

"Yeah, we're sick of you fucking bastards! Your boy can't even beat our hero! Your damned White Knight sure got his ass stomped, didn't he?"

"Hey Almasy! How'd it feel to land flat on your ass when Leonhart knocked you off your horse? Did it hurt? Cause from where I was sitting, it looked like it would sting like a motherfucker!" Fujin watched Seifer carefully. He seemed amused by the insults and jabs that Leonhart's fans were lobbing his way, sipping his wine and grinning that special Seifer grin that infuriated so many. At least until a very, very unwise person mentioned a certain lady. A thin brunette man a few tables over elbowed his partner, encouraged by the cheers behind him. "And I saw how you had to get fucking permission just to beat the Fool today! Always gotta have some bitch rulin' your life for ya, huh Lapdog? First the Sorceress, now that Instructor. Although, I could give her a lesson in jousting, that's for damn sure. She wouldn't look so smug after a tilt or two with my lance!" Fujin saw Seifer finish his wine and lock eyes with the foolish man. She saw the old woman watching the exchange as well, twirling a spoon in another cup of tea. Seifer set his glass down, ready to stand and 'speak' with the fellow across the tent, but his supporters beat him to it.

"Hey fuck you buddy! You'll see some pain in a couple of days when he snaps Leonhart like a twig!" A stein flew over Seifer's head, landing with a sick, sticky thump in the face of the sneering Leonhart fan. Blood mixed with wine, the sweetened salty liquid flowing down the unfortunate man's chin, making his black cotton shirt appear even blacker. His shocked neighbor gaped at the oddly graceful way he folded to the floor, bloody chin tucked into chest and arms landing behind his head. Once his friend's body hit the floor, he tossed his own mug, shattering the cheekbone of an unwary Almasy follower. Her screams and curses of pain were drowned by the sudden roar of two dozen wine-crazed participants simultaneously diving at each other, some aiming for green, some for black, and nearly all for white. Fujin sighed when one stupid fuck in a green tunic tried to punch her in her good eye. Dodging the clumsy blow, she drove her fist into his gut, forcing him to fall forward on her table, spilling her wine. Grabbing his hair and slamming his face into the hard oak, she smiled when she felt his body twitch and go limp. She felt his pockets for his money pouch, pulling out the amount of gil that would pay for her wasted chardonnay. Quickly dropping to her knees, she shoved Rajin under the table, grunting with effort. Once the festival was over, she was going to put him on a diet. Keeping him safe from harm was killing her back.

Rising to her feet, she looked for Seifer. He was standing at the head of the table, sipping his wine between dodging punches and laughing at the chaos. He ducked another thrown fist, gripping the thick wrist of his opponent with one hand and his elbow with the other. Using the momentum of the ill-timed blow, Seifer pushed hard, spinning him into a group of battling drunks. They fell in a tangle of limbs, feet and fists connecting with broken faces and bruised bodies. Jumping on top of the table, he turned to her with a bright smile and an extended hand. "What cheer, Madame? Wouldst thou join me atop my perch? To view the battle from such…fuck! Let go of me, you cock-eyed bastard!" Another tried to be the one to topple the mighty knight, grabbing his hand and pulling him back into the fray. Fujin lost sight of Seifer in the struggle, only catching fleeting glimpses of blonde hair and flashing eyes as he was jostled between the press of sweating combatants.

Trying to throw off her own assailants, she noticed that the old fortune teller was still sitting by the fire, calmly watching Seifer with an amused expression on her face. The wild melee churned closer and closer to the firepit, making the mysterious woman take her tea and slowly retreat to the exit. Fujin smelled the unmistakable acrid odor of burning hair before she heard the sizzle of flesh and shrill cries of a singed warrior, howling his outrage at finding his head alight.

When security finally reached the brawl, knocking heads and pushing their way through the confusion, Seifer untangled himself and stumbled over to Fujin. Still laughing, he pushed her back to the table. "Come Madame, let's away. The sport is at it's best!" They managed to drag the semi-conscious Rajin to the exit, leaving the tent in the incense-scented wake of the elderly sage. "Damn it. I appreciate the thought, but I wanted to flatten that cocksucker's face myself. Whoever threw that fucking mug beat me to it." The cool autumn air seemed to revive their muscular comrade, who was able to take a few faltering steps in the direction of their tent.

"Hey Boss, I don't feel so hot, ya know." Fujin jumped back as Rajin lurched forward, vomit streaming from his throat and steam rising from the mixture of fallen leaves and red wine. "GROSS." Rajin wiped his mouth and leaned on his knees, grateful that he missed Fujin's boots. She would have kicked his ass for sure. "Ugh. I think I'm gonna head back, ya know. Too much partying for me, ya know." Staggering and stumbling, he tried to weave back home, eager to lie down and sleep off the remaining buzz.

Fujin chuckled again, waving goodnight to Seifer. Poor Rajin. "LIGHTWEIGHT." Returning the wave, he watched her vanish in the torch lit darkness, following Rajin to their tent. A part of him was glad that Rajin was sick. It would give them a chance to sleep later in the morning. The big man had a terrible habit of waking before the sun, bellowing his morning greetings and angering Fujin, who enjoyed sleeping until noon.

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Seifer paced for a bit, knowing that he should turn in as well, but also aware that he wouldn't be able to sleep if he did follow them. He considered walking to the mead tent and finding Quistis to bug her for a while, but he didn't want to deal with her fucking irritating circle of friends. If the fairy tried talking to him again, he would beat her with her rainbow wings. "Well fuck. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?" Muttering to himself, he wandered around the fair, ignoring the chants of fans and foes. He stopped to watch a lute player dance and twirl, plucking his strings and singing loudly while his partner passed a hat, collecting tips. Seifer tossed a couple gil into the hat, making the skinny youth bob his head in appreciation. His high voice lifted in a series of ancient tunes, all sad and all so familiar. Seifer listened for a while, lost in the pure voice of the talented singer, but left when the crowd's noise overpowered the soft notes of the old song.

Drifting away from the musician, Seifer noticed a faint glow in the trees just off of the main path that meandered through the heart of the faire. Intrigued, he stepped off the path and walked into the shadowed shelter of the tall trees. The blaring clatter from the festival, though just a few feet away, seemed muffled by the forest, blasphemous noise drowned by the silent sway of wise oak and willow. Seifer liked it. Still curious, he walked over gnarled roots and twisted branches, searching for the source of the hypnotic light. Leaves and moss cushioned his heavy footfalls. It seemed that the forest was determined to banish all sound, save for the soft sighing of the trees and the distant trickle of some small stream. The harsh sounds made by man had no place in this sylvan kingdom of moss and oak.

"I have some more tea, if you'd like a cup."

Startled, Seifer spun around to find the old fortuneteller sitting on a stump, smiling at him; her wrinkled face and purple eyes alight with the mischievous glow of foxfire. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

"Oh, I've been around. Nice job in there earlier, by the way. You laid a hurtin' on those dicks and didn't even make me spill my tea. I like a man that knows the value of a good cup o' tea." She hopped off her stump, motioning Seifer to follow her, beads and shells interweaved in her gray hair tinkling and clinking. "Come on, lad. It's this way." Moving with stunning swiftness, the hag moved through the fog and smoke, seemingly untouched by the twigs and cobwebs that assaulted Seifer's face. "Wait one damn minute. Who the fuck are you and why the hell should I follow you?" She turned and grinned, gums shining between the gaps in her remaining teeth. "No need to follow me, Sonny Jim. We're here." And indeed they were. The fog lifted long enough to show Seifer an old wagon, the type that made him think of gypsy caravans and traveling snake oil salesmen.

Hitching up her tattered skirts, the old woman climbed the steps without waiting for the knight. "Fuck." Seifer, senses screaming, shook his head and climbed in after her. His weight made the old wagon lurch violently, teacups and mysterious bottles falling from shelves. Yep, the old bitch was crazy. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, taking in scarves and tapestries, beaded curtains and dangling feathers, strange symbols scratched on the walls and even stranger cards on a round table. "Humph. Where's your crystal ball? Did you forget it at the coven with your pointy hat and broomstick?"

"Crystal ball? Sakes alive, son, I've not used one of those in years! Crystal ball, heh, heh. Next you'll be asking me to read your fortune with soggy old tea leaves." Snapping her knobby fingers, the inside of the wagon flared with sudden light. She tossed a bag of sweet smelling leaves to Seifer and climbed on a footstool. "They take up too much room and they weigh a fuckin' ton. Let's see you try lugging one of those bastards around all day and see if your back doesn't ache like a sumbitch." She fumbled in a cabinet, tossing books and parchment to the floor. "Ah! Here we go. Now toss me that bag, Sonny Jim. I've got me a date with one hot teapot!" Chuckling, she caught the bag without turning. Seifer didn't remember even lifting his arms, much less tossing her the tea. Weird.

"It's Seifer, not Jim." The words tumbled out before he knew that his mouth was open. What the hell? Clamping his jaws shut, refusing to volunteer any more information about himself, he watched her light a ceramic burner and prepare water for the tea. She muttered and mumbled, grinning at him slyly, turning back to her work, and then mumbling some more. "Born a few centuries too late, weren't you, Sonny Seifer? Should have been born when great deeds mattered, eh? Maybe then your Lady would have noticed you, eh?" She snatched the bag from his hands, shaking a few leaves into a pair of cups. Wait. Didn't she just have it over there? He just tossed it to her, didn't he? Fucking hell. This was too damn trippy.

The wagon filled with the fragrant perfume of the strange tea. "Here. It's cold out tonight." Slapping a cup into his hands, she eased her old bones onto the cushioned footstool. Slurping loudly, she waited for Seifer to take a sip. "It ain't poisoned. And it's rude to hurt an old woman's feelings, you little shit." Seifer, carefully sniffing the amber liquid, took a swig and promptly spit it back out. "Oh, now what's the trouble?"

"It's hot as hell!"

"Well, hell's bells, Sonny! O' course it is! I just made it! You have all the manners of a marlboro around a bottle of mouthwash. Your little lady friend was much better behaved."

"Lady? Are you talking about…never mind." Seifer placed his cup on her table. He mentally kicked himself for not retiring with Fujin and Rajin. Tired. Yes, he was tired, drunk and wanted to go to sleep. And more than that, he wanted to find his way back to the mead tent and have a drink with Quistis, even if it meant talking with her damned obnoxious friends…including the crackhead fairy on speed. "Thanks for the tea, but I need to head back. Busy day tomorrow with the tournament, gotta get a lot of stuff ready so I can… Hey! What the fuck are you doing?" Surprised at her strength and speed, Seifer found his hand tightly gripped in her bird-like claws. He pulled hard, but her bony fingers clutched and moved, tracing the lines on his palms and feeling the calloused pads of his fingertips. Still muttering, her glowing purple eyes bounced from his hands to his face and back again. "Hmm. Yes. Wrong time for you. Wrong time for her. You would have been great and she would have been a queen. Such power and such loyalty…ah well. Maybe it is all for the best." Seifer finally pulled away, his hand frozen from her touch. With anyone else, he would have stomped out, cursing and yelling, but he didn't think it would be a good idea with this woman. She smiled that gummy smile at him again, sinking into her cushion. "Yes…your Lady. She is like a cat, you know. A cat in the darkness."

"What the hell are you talking about? Who?"

"Yes…but then again, she is the darkness, isn't she? So different…rules her life like a bird in flight, doesn't she? Such an odd girl."

"Yep. I'm officially freaked out now, so I'm gonna leave before you grow wings or something fucked up like that." When she started cackling, Seifer knew it was time to exit Loony Town and rejoin the normal world. Seifer stepped out of the door and quickly reentered the fog, eager to put this whole strange episode behind him.

Still cackling, she hung out of the door and hollered after him, "Hey Sonny! She might warm up to you if you'd remember what I told you! And try using your fucking manners when you're around her!" Her voice echoed through the forest, following him back to the festival. Upon reaching the bright lights and pressing crowds, he breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, that had to be just a weird dream or something.

"Hey, Sir Almasy! Great job taking care of the jester today!" Seifer grinned; glad to be back with normal people. Time to throw on the act. "Many thanks, good sir. And a greater victory shall be mine on the morrow. Now, I find that my throat is mightily parched and my tongue cries out for a drop of mead. Pray excuse me."

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"Well, you hold her head up. I don't want to do it! NO! STOP! Oh, grooosssss…"

"EEEWWW!!! It's glittery!"

"Selphie. Selphie! What on earth have you consumed tonight? Do we need to consult a medic? I don't have a single cure spell…is anyone junctioned?" Quistis pulled Selphie's head out of the leaves and dragged her out of her vomit. Disgusted, she tried cleaning up the filthy pixie as best she could, considering that bathroom facilities were obviously not top of the list when the faire was planned. "Zell. ZELL! Quit capering long enough to get some water or find Xu. And if you say prithee one more fucking time, I'll slap that cap off of your head. Now go!" Zell vanished, bells ringing as he bolted to his tent. He could take a lot of shit, but hurling fairies were too much for him. Creepy. Fuck the water and the hell with finding Xu. Quistis could handle it. She knew how to handle anything.

"Well, shit. She's done it again, has she?" Irvine and Squall came upon the group, stomachs full and appetites satisfied after eating most of one vendor's stock of turkey and mutton. Irvine tipped his hat, greeting Quistis and Rinoa, appraising their costumes. "Great dress Rinoa. Very regal. And Miss Trepe! When did you grow such big…I mean, I sure am glad you're here, Quistits…umm, Quistis. Sorry. So, Quistis? Have those always been there? Wow. You need to unleash them more often." Bending down, Irvine's nose wrinkled at the shimmering silver puddle surrounding his girlfriend. "Looks like she got into the Silverschlager again. And who's the artist? She won't be happy to find that someone has drawn balls on her chin for the second time this week. Oh well…nothing for it but to let her puke 'til she's empty. I better get her to our tent. I've got a potion in my bag. Thanks for watching out for her, Quistis." Hoisting Selphie over his shoulder, Irvine turned and nodded to the instructor, being very careful to look directly in her face. "I'm glad you came to this festival instead of spending the whole week at Garden. I think you're the only one out of all of us with any sense at all. Good night everybody."

"Heeey, ya gotta shay Pritheeee…pritheeeugh. Hey nonny, nonny and a ho, ho, hoooo…"

"Well, darlin', I do apologize, but I'll have to hold out on the prithees until we get you cleaned up." A final nod and Irvine and Selphie were gone, leaving the rest in the darkness around the rapidly emptying mead hall.

"It's about time you decide to join the party, Squall. I was afraid I was going to have to go hunting for my favorite knight, and I couldn't leave poor Selphie with just Quisty. She would have strangled her." Rinoa stood on her toes to kiss her boyfriend, happier than she had been all day. She loved her friends, but she always felt a little uncomfortable around Quistis. The older girl always seemed so darn distant, but she was worse after any encounter with Seifer. It never failed. "Yeah, sorry about that, Rin. I was busy with my practice. And I hate to be a spoilsport…" Quistis snorted. "…but I really just want to go to bed. Are you coming, or do you want to stay with…"

"Oh! I'm coming! Definitely." Tired of Zell's whining and Quistis' bitchiness, Rinoa was eager to run off into the woods with her handsome boyfriend. With Selphie out cold, she just didn't have a lot to say to the other members of the group. And Quistis had been acting so odd since she made that remark about Seifer's scar…well, she deserved to feel bad! It wasn't fair, after all. Seifer, when not possessed by evil sorceresses, really was a perfect gentleman. Quistis just didn't know when to turn off her bitch switch. "Yeah, I'm tired too, honey. G'night everyone!" And with that, they disappeared as well, leaving Quistis alone in the darkness. Some friends, she thought. I didn't realize that camping was part of this festival scene. Great. What am I supposed to do now? I'd stay with Xu, but she took off after that guy in tights and I don't know which tent is hers. Fucking Selphie and her damned fund raisers. Fucking stuck-up Rinoa. Now all I need is to run into…"Do mine eyes deceive me, or is that Milady facing the darkness without an escort?" …Seifer. Fuck me. "Not now, Seifer. I'm trying to figure out a way to either find Xu's tent or hitch a ride back to Garden."

"Hmm. Abandoned by your mates? The fair lady left to fend off the hordes of fiendish Trepies and rogues that travel the moonlit roads? Scoundrels! I'll part their heads from their shoulders for daring to endanger the virtue of my lady love." Laughing brightly, Seifer caught up with the furious figure of Quistis. She seemed much, much angrier than she had earlier that day. He couldn't blame her though. More than a few minutes in the company of Messenger Girl and Holier-than-thou Rinoa would be enough to drive anyone to white-hot fury. And angry or not, Seifer was so glad to see her that he would have given her the axe on bended knee if she meant to chop off his head. The encounter with the old woman in the woods bothered him still. "And Xu's tent? Why do you…You really don't have anywhere to sleep, do you? Did Tilmitt not tell you anything about how these things work? Customers pay to visit for a day, but participants and actors have to stay on the grounds."

"But I'm not a participant! I just came because I was bloody curious! I had no idea that I would be stuck here! I don't even know where to find the exit!" Quistis unsteadily stomped off, though it was nearly impossible to see far ahead in the foggy night. Seifer followed closely behind her, unable to take his eyes off her hair, curling slightly in the humidity. "Hey! Hold up, Milady! They won't let you leave the grounds. Not that I care about obeying some dumbass rule, but it is late as fuck and you'll never hitch a ride back to Garden in that costume. If it meant that I could stare at you in that dress all night, then I'd invite you to stay in my tent." Stopping suddenly, Quistis glared at him, folding her arms across her chest, trying once more to cover her partially exposed bosom. She didn't realize how much power those puppies held until they entranced every male within three miles, specifically the man currently staring at…curiously enough, her eyes. Seifer grinned at her, white teeth flashing in the dark. Swiftly wrapping a thickly muscled arm around her bare shoulders, he leaned closer, surprised when she didn't try to tear his invasive arm from it's socket. He was also surprised when she almost fell into him, pressing her weight into his. Ah ha! The instructor must have had a wee bit too much to drink tonight. Interesting. Inhaling deeply, he nearly drowned in the rush of lavender and chamomile that assailed his nostrils. Damn the manufacturers of whatever shampoo she used. Nothing should be allowed to smell that good. And the stain of merlot on her lips was very appealing as well. He wondered if that aubergine tint would transfer to his own lips if he tried to taste the wine clinging to her mouth. Damn the winemakers too. And the seamstress that sewed her outfit. Damn them all for outfitting his beautiful nemesis with all of these potent weapons.

Distracted by the proximity of that costume and her tipsy reliance on his strong arms, Seifer tried to remember that even if by some miracle she suddenly fell madly and hopelessly in love with him, good old light-sleeping Rajin was waiting at the tent. "Unfortunately, we won't be able to act on our animal impulses and fuck like rabbits, since Raj is sharing the same space. I know this breaks your heart, but perhaps some other time." Quistis relaxed ever so slightly when he said this. "I could throw him out though, if you want to tear that thing off and take advantage of me. I'll try to resist. Fujin is one tent over, so I'm sure he could shack up with her tonight."

"And who is staying with Fujin?"

"Nobody, I guess, but…"

"Then maybe she won't mind sharing with me for one night. From what I can recall, she didn't hate me as much as you and Rajin."

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"HARDER."

"FASTER."

"I'm trying, ya know. You keep sliding off! I can't go that fast Fu."

"FASTER."

"I told ya I wanted to be on top, but you said I'd squish ya, and…Oh God, I think, OH FUCK, FUJIN!"

"NOT YET!…DAMN."

"Wow, that was amazing Fu. I really…OW! What did I do, ya know? OW! Quit kicking me! How did you get your leg that high anyway?"

"IDIOT."

Seifer and Quistis stared at each other. Then they stared at the pulsating canvas walls of the large tent. Then they started laughing. Seifer gasped for breath, able at last to know what sex with the one-word, one-eyed Fujin would sound like. And not that he ever wondered about Rajin, but now he knew that the giant was also a one-minute man. Must be the steroids. Ah, the things one learned…

Quistis laid a hand on Seifer's arm. "Umm, Seifer? I don't think you'll be able to get in your tent tonight. Sounds like they are umm, occupied."

Seifer shook his head. "And I wondered why they seemed so eager to leave the party earlier. Well, looks like it's gonna be Fu's tent tonight, eh, Milady?"

"Do you think we should knock or…"

"Hell no! I am not, I repeat, am NOT about to walk in that tent and face Fu after she has been disappointed in that department." Seifer shuddered. Knowing her temper, Fujin would only be interested in decapitating anything male within her reach. And the head on his shoulders wasn't the only one that had him concerned. Seifer said a silent prayer for Rajin, hoping that the big man could think of a way to satisfy the silver-haired woman before she escaped the tent and went on a sharp-bladed rampage.

"Okay, okay! Easy there, Sir Knight!" Quistis swallowed hard. Fantastic. Ditched by her friends, in an uncomfortable costume, drunk, and now about to be crammed in a tiny tent with Seifer Almasy. Granted, he was acting much more civil than he normally did, and he had finally stopped using those damned archaic words so much, but still…it was Seifer. So what if he happened to be tall and blonde and muscular? So what if he was looking at her with those dangerous green eyes like she was the most beautiful creature on the planet? So what if she found herself curious about how far that tan extended? So what? It was still Seifer and he would probably do something mean and horrible…like pushing her down or pulling her hair. Hmm. Yes, pulling her hair and whispering her name and using those hands and that tongue to make her scream and…

Stop it! Just because you're dressed like a two gil whore doesn't mean you have to act the part. You're not a participant, remember?

Yes, but you're lonely and bored and it IS kind of cold. And did you happen to feel how hard the muscles in his arm were, dear? If his arms are that hard, imagine what other bits of him will be like. Especially certain bits that fit in other certain bits. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. And if you still insist on being ladylike about it…did you see how he smiled at you? And admit it…you love that Milady bullshit, even if it is kind of silly.

Well, yes, but…

But nothing, dear. This is your brain speaking and you've listened to me since you were old enough to do some cognatin'! So, ignore me and just act, darling.

Wait a tic…cognatin'? That's not my brain! That's some other part of me, like…

Yes, darling. I'm your under-sexed, horny as hell, dying-to-get laid libido that you so ruthlessly ignore. You pay too much attention to that attention-whore brain of yours. What about the rest of you, er…me?

I don't ignore the rest of you, er, me. I've just been busy. There have been so many improvements to Garden to worry about lately, and the financial crisis with the…

Yes, dear, but look over to your left. He's staring at your tits again. Er, our tits, er, whatever. Are you going to jump his bones or are you going to argue with me, us, yourself…oh fuck it, Quistis. You think too damned much anyway. Climb on, fasten your safety belt, and let him fuck me right out of your skull. What have your brains done for you lately, darling?

Yes, I suppose I do think too…oh God, he really is staring at me like he wants to lick my…oh fuck me. Ready brain? Ready libido? Good job, girls. You've succeeded in driving me so damn mad that I want to tear my clothes off and roll in the dirt with Seifer fucking Almasy. Now what?

Quistis shook her head, trying to clear the voices clamoring for her attention. It was all well and good to talk to oneself on occasion, but to have your mind and your sex-starved id duke it out in front of a man that liked to dress up as a knight and play with his lance in public places…well, surely that had to have a whole different definition of crazy added to the psychiatric journals.

Smiling broadly, making Seifer feel rather nervous about her hasty shift in attitude, she followed him into Fujin's tent with no hesitation. "Umm, alright, Trepe. Here we go. Looks like Fu has a cot, two blankets, some clothes and her bag. I'll take the floor if I can have the blankets, and you can take the cot. Surely those skirts will keep you warm tonight, but you might need something to cover your…why are you staring at me like that? They are pushed practically up to your chin. I can't help but notice them, so don't look at me like…"

"Oh hush, Seifer. And slide over. It's fucking cold and I'm not making you sleep on the ground. I guess we'll have to share this thing tonight. Pity it's so narrow…" Quistis pulled Seifer down next to her, ignoring the fact that his sword was digging into her hip. Well, trying to ignore it. Ah, maybe later. Her head was too muddled with wine to listen to the screaming voices of the raging battle between her brain and loins.

"Pity? Really?"

"Don't start, Sir Almasy." Voice husky and low, she wiggled deeper in the blankets, already halfway asleep. "There's not even enough room to turn over, much less attempt any sort of demonstration of your swordsmanship. So keep it in your sheath, or pants, or whatever. I'm trying to sleep. We have many military matters to discuss tomorrow. Matters of unguarded flanks, breaching walls, thrust and penetration… " Quistis drifted off, leaving Seifer with a very big problem.

Namely the fact that his leg had fallen asleep, prickling with that weird sensation he always heard described as 'pins and needles'. Seifer thought the peculiar burning felt nothing like pins, and certainly nothing like needles. This feeling was distracting and kept his mind from wandering to…oh damn it straight to hell! It wasn't working! No matter how he moved, some soft, fragrant part of Quistis was pressed into him, making Seifer wish that he had spent the night with his horse in the stables.

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Note: Yeah, I love Stevie Nicks. Love, love, love Stevie Nicks. The 'cat in the darkness' bit is from Rhiannon, which is the greatest song ever written. Don't even try to argue with me about that fact or I'll throw something heavy at you. Hmm, let's see…there was another Shakespeare line, and the military matters bit is stolen straight from Kitiara, who happens to be the single sexiest character in the entire Dragonlance saga. Yeah, yeah…I know, but I've read those books since I was ten years old. Can't help it, I love 'em.

And Quistis…I always thought that she would talk to herself a lot, simply because she was so much smarter than the other characters. And who else but Seifer could make her super-ego get in a mental fistfight with her id?