Chapter Nine
Owls of Timber
Very slowly the dull roar in Squall's ears began to take on the property of words, which seemed impossibly loud at first but gradually faded into normalcy about the time he was able to discern them properly.
"Next stop, Timber," the PA droned cheerily. "Timber . . ."
Squall lifted up, shaking his head to free it of the grogginess, then sat up on his knees. Apparently he was the last one to come to, as Zell was already wide awake seated on the couch and Selphie stood near-by, swaying with nervous energy. Squall carefully got to his feet.
"Were we . . . all asleep?" he questioned after a moment, shaking his head again, feeling though as if it had been stuffed with cotton. The other two nodded. Zell suddenly began glancing worriedly around the room.
"Maybe someone released some sleeping gas? There's lots of people who resent SeeD."
Squall glanced up himself, swallowing. Maybe, he thought to himself, not wanting to alarm the other two. Better be careful.
"Am I missing anything?" Selphie questioned then, beginning to pat herself down. "Anyone hurt?"
Squall and Zell both checked themselves over. Amazingly, nothing seemed missing or out of place—and other than a throbbing headache—he seemed perfectly healthy.
"I don't think so," he murmured at last. The other two visibly relaxed.
"What a relief!" Selphie exclaimed, then sighed and went to sit on the couch. "Everything's cool with me." Then she suddenly giggled. "Hee! I had such a nice dream!"
Squall frowned. At her words, he was forced to remember the bizarre events he'd seen unfold in his own subconscious. I had a dream too, he thought bitterly, thinking of the Galbadian soldier he'd been, called Laguna, with the long dark hair and the eerily familiar steel-blue eyes. It wasn't nice though. I dreamt I was a moron.
A voice rang out over the PA system again. "We will be arriving in Timber shortly. For those getting off, please make sure you have all your belongings."
As the three of them had only what they were wearing, none of them moved. Selphie sighed dreamily. "But seriously," she gushed, continuing her former train of thought, "Sir Laguna was soooooo cool!"
Squall and Zell both whirled to her, eyes and mouths wide.
"Hey!" the blonde exclaimed. "There was a Laguna in my dream too! He's a Galbadian soldier, right?!"
"Laguna, Kiros and Ward . . . ," Squall whispered, rattling off the names of the three men who had danced through his dreams. Selphie gaped and Zell shook his head in disbelief.
"Huh?" he blurted, then motioned. "That's it!" Squall attempted to play dumb.
"That's what?"
Selphie got to her feet suddenly, shaking her head and motioning negatively with her hands. "There's no way we can understand this," she pronounced. "Let's just concentrate on our first mission!"
Squall glanced at her and met her steady green stare for a moment, then inwardly sighed. I guess you're right, he conceded silently, then nodded. "We'll put this incident on hold," he pronounced. "I'll report it to the headmaster once we get back to Garden."
Zell and Selphie were pleased with that plan and nodded their agreement. Zell got to his feet, shaking himself out as if removing the last of the grogginess out of his body.
"We should be there soon, eh?" he called, then began for the door. "Here we go. Psyche yourself up, baby!" he murmured to himself as he tossed his head slightly—his neck popping audibly and causing both Squall and Selphie to wince—before he exited the SeeD private car completely.
Selphie lifted her legs behind her one by one, grabbing her ankle and stretching her hamstring and thigh muscles, then she sighed and started for the door herself. "Whew," she heaved. "Still sleepy."
Squall said nothing as he followed after them.
The train pulled to a stop at the Timber Station, and the three of them exited out onto an outdoor docking area. They stood among the milling passengers moving to and fro, boarding and getting off. Their SeeD training kicked in and the three of them did their best to blend in with the crowd, going over to peruse a small little stand of tourist guides.
All of a sudden Squall tensed as a somewhat chubby teen around his age approached him. He wore a pair of dark green cargo pants, a white t-shirt and a yellow hunter's vest on over it, a blue skullcap pulled low over his head, hiding his hair. He sidled near and then gave an overly dramatic sigh.
"Oh," he called a little too loudly, "the forests of Timber sure have changed!" Squall's brow furrowed, setting the magazine he'd picked up back on the stand.
"But the owls are still around," he replied smoothly. The teen nodded vigorously, pale face breaking into a grin.
"Welcome to Timber, sir. Come with me, sir." He turned and then began hurrying off. Squall just scowled, glancing at Selphie and Zell, who both shrugged. Why in the hell have a secret password if you were going to blow your cover immediately afterward? Beginning to get a bad feeling about all this, Squall just sighed and then started after the resistance member.
The teen lead them to another train docking area, this one a little more run-down than the other main one.
"Please, this way sir!" he called as he mounted the steps. Squall and the others followed. As they did so a large locomotive suddenly pulled up on the tracks. It was decorated in various graffiti proclaiming Timber's independence and their hatred for Galbadia, skulls and other such angry decorations marring it's faded yellow paint job. Behind him, Zell snorted and then openly snickered. Squall felt like joining him.
So much for going incognito.
The teen quickly entered an automatic doorway. Squall and the other two followed when he gestured for them to do so. The door closed behind them and then the locomotive immediately took off again afterward.
Another teen met them inside, this one wearing a dark blue turtleneck pullover, black shorts, yellow sneakers and spiky short-cut black hair. He stepped up in front of Squall and looked him up and down, seemingly sizing him up in a glance. Squall felt his expression harden.
"So," he murmured after a moment. "You guys are SeeDs?"
Squall nodded. "I'm the squad leader, Squall," he announced sternly. He tilted his head first to his right, then to his left, indicating the other two members of his squad standing on either side of him. "This is Zell, and Selphie."
The spike-haired one gave him a tight smile and extended his hand. "Nice to meet ya," he proclaimed. "I'm called Zone, the leader of the Forest Owls." Squall just stared at him, not making any move to shake hands. He blinked, uncertain, then turned to a grinning Selphie and shook her hand instead when she eagerly offered. Zell quickly wiped his hand down his pants leg, but when Zone moved to turn to him Squall sighed loudly with impatience.
"So let's get on with it," he growled. "What do we do?"
Zone waved his hands. "Just take it easy," he protested, then did his best to avoid Squall's blackening stare by turning around to his friend, the one who had lead them here. "Here, let me introduce you."
Zell heaved a heavy sigh, then sat down on the steps that led to a hall that went down the rest of the train. Selphie turned around and stared out the window of the door. Squall put his hand on his hip, silently counting to fifty.
"Looks like you already met Watts," Zone murmured. The other one grinned and waved. Zone sighed. "I guess it's just our princess then."
Watts blanched, eyes widening. "It's the princess' nap time, sir." Zone's face paled as well.
"Ah, man," he whined, crouching a little and cradling his stomach for some reason. Then he suddenly straightened and turned back to them. "Hey Squall, sorry, but can you go get the princess? She's in the last room up those stairs. Some of our guys are in the room on the way. Ask 'em if you get lost."
Selphie turned from the window at that, eyes wide, while Zell made a noise half of disgust, half of disbelief. Squall had to take a deep breath before he responded.
"Were we hired to run errands?" he questioned then, slowly, his tone gravely. Zone's eyes widened in alarm. "Well?" Squall barked when he didn't get an answer. Zone backed up fearfully, raising his hands in supplication.
"A-are you angry?" he questioned fearfully. Selphie rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. Squall put a hand to his forehead, trying to remember what it was like to feel calm and un-annoyed.
We're not gophers, he inwardly sneered, we're SeeD . . . special forces. He sighed heavily, dropping his arm, then fixed Zone with a dark look. "This is the last time for this kind of thing," he warned.
The other teen retreated into a corner, crouching down and grabbing his stomach with a groan. Squall's eyebrow raised, then he just shook his head and tromped up the stairs, stepping over Zell along the way. He bypassed the other room with three other men completely, heading for the last door to get the damned 'princess.'
He entered and then hesitated, shocked for a moment by the abundance of pink. Everything in here was pink, from the walls to the carpet to the heavily cushioned futon near the back corner. He spotted a girl dressed in blue curled upon it in a fetal position, apparently sleeping. Her back was to him, but he felt a niggle of suspicion stir to life as he stared at the wealth of inky hair spilling out behind her on the pink cushions.
Just then the train suddenly pulled to a stop, the brakes applying with a loud screech. The noise disturbed the 'princess,' who suddenly released a husky moan—the sound doing things to Squall's anatomy he didn't even want to try and analyze—before she slowly turned onto her back and stretched upward and arched off the bed—again, with the anatomy changes—then she loosened and finally sat up. Squall's whole frame locked up in astonishment as he stared at her familiar face.
Ah hell . . . .
It was the girl from the party last night. Hyne was really obnoxious today.
Instead of the white cocktail dress, she was wearing a tiny black camisole now and a matching pair of skin-tight shorts underneath a blue button-up mini skirt and an ankle-length sleeveless overcoat that tied over her breasts. Her forearms were encased by matching cuffs that extended from wrist to elbow, and her left arm had a black ribbon tied around her bicep. Her feet—currently encased in thick black socks—slowly swung around to the edge of the bed as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, hair falling down around her face and shoulders in an adorable disarray.
Squall did his best to swallow the huge lump in his throat, his mind numb with disbelief and even a tiny bit of fear and apprehension. He'd sworn last night that he'd never have anything to do with this girl again, yet here he was, bound by contract to support a resistance group that she was apparently an integral member of. What in the hell were the odds?!
The girl suddenly noticed his presence in the doorway and stiffened, eyes widening. Then she frowned as recognition began to dawn. She pointed at him.
"Hey," she murmured, "you're . . !" Her expression slowly began to bleed into one of abject excitement and joy. "You know, from the party . . ," she continued, as they had never exchanged names before or after that damned dance. Squall just nodded, and she clasped her hands in front of her. "So . . . does that mean . . . You're a SeeD?"
He nodded again. None of his inner turmoil showed on his face. Outwardly he was completely calm and his voice was flat and steady as he replied, "I'm Squall, the squad leader. There's two others with me."
He was completely thrown off when the female suddenly launched herself off the bed at him with a high-pitched squeal of delight. "Yes! SeeD is here!"
She threw her arms around his neck, and only his SeeD training kept the both of them from collapsing back onto the floor. As it was he spun her around to decrease her momentum, then quickly disengaged himself, stepping back.
"Take it easy," he snapped, flustered and annoyed. The girl cleared her throat, cheeks coloring, apparently having realized her misstep.
"Sorry," she murmured somewhat sheepishly, but she soon brightened again. "It's just that, I'm so happy. I've been sending requests to Garden forever, but nothing. I'm so glad I spoke to Cid directly!"
Squall felt himself tense, and was extremely put off at the sensation of hope that began to flicker to life in his chest. He'd thought she'd left him on the dance floor to go meet another guy for personal reasons.
"Oh," he found himself murmuring, blatantly fishing for information, "so you were looking for the headmaster at the party?"
She shook her head however. "You know Seifer?"
And just like that, the kernel of hope in his chest died a swift, harsh death. Well, it was just as well. Squall felt his insides harden, his expression wiping blank. ". . . yeah," he replied tonelessly.
She gave him a curious stare for a moment at the sudden change in his attitude, but shrugged it off. "Well, he's the one that introduced me to Cid." She sighed, smiling. "Cid is such a nice man. I really didn't think SeeD would come out to help a measly little group like us. But after explaining our situation to him, Cid gave the go ahead right away!" She laughed suddenly, the sound exuding happiness as she clapped her hands in excitement. "Now that you guys are here, we'll be able to carry out all kinds of plans!"
She went to the futon and sat down to put on the pair of feminine black sneakers sitting near-by, then stood and went to the vanity mirror to brush her hair. She noticed him still standing there and looked at him in the reflection, her brow raising.
"Yes?"
Squall shook himself—annoyed that he'd stayed and watched her like a dumbass—cleared his throat then motioned to the door. "I'm goin' back to the others."
She set down her brush and turned, smiling. "Ok, let's go!" she chirruped. That wasn't exactly his plan—his plan had been more along the lines of getting away from the disturbing female—but he sighed and nodded. They started for the door, but all of a sudden she stopped in her tracks. "Um, Squall," she suddenly questioned. He cocked an eyebrow and she twisted the edges of her blue overcoat around her hands. "Is he here?"
He? he wondered. She bit her lip.
"Seifer," she clarified at his confused stare. Squall felt his heart harden just a little more.
"No," he replied at length. "He's not."
"Oh."
A shadow had fallen across her eyes, one that was probably borne of disappointment, and Squall struggled with why the thought of that would piss him off so much and why he should give a damn whether she wanted to see Almasy or not. She heaved a sigh, then stepped through the doorway. Before Squall could even think about following her, she suddenly spun around and re-entered, expression sheepish.
"Oh yeah," she exclaimed, "my name's Rinoa." She reached forward and grabbed his hand before he could react and shook it vigorously. "Very pleased to meet you, Squall." He removed his hand from hers as soon as possible, resisting the urge to rub his thumb across the pads of his fingers and try and capture a bit of that warmth and softness into his own skin. She suddenly smirked mischievously. "SeeD members dance quite well, don't they?"
Squall turned away slightly, his mask firmly in place. The last thing he needed was for her to believe that dance had been anything but professional. "Approach your target inconspicuously at a party," he quoted tonelessly. "There may be missions requiring this sort of subterfuge. It's expected of SeeD to learn various skills."
"Oh," she murmured, eyebrows lifting. "So it's work related." Then she sighed, tone saddened. "That's too bad."
Squall reminded himself sternly that that was for the best.
All of a sudden a large dark brown and cream colored dog suddenly entered the room. It was tail-less and muscular in build, and the intelligent way it seemed to size him up as well as it's tense posture told Squall it was probably a working dog of some sort. Probably one of those expensive, highly trained protection and guard dogs out of Deling City. Inwardly he wondered how this girl had come across one.
She immediately crouched and began scratching and petting the dog's face and neck, making sickeningly sweet goo-goo noises. The otherwise intimidating beast turned to putty in her hands, tongue lolling out and letting out a low whine of pleasure. Rinoa turned to give him a smile over her shoulder.
"Here, let me introduce you. This is my partner, Angelo." She stood up again and turned back to him. "Angelo is really smart! He can do all sorts of things. Here, let me show you." She took a few steps away and then turned back to Angelo. The dog stayed where he was and watched her face attentively. "Insideo," she suddenly called, and the dog immediately sat down. "Sustuli," she called then, and Angelo lifted up on his hind haunches, front paws in the air. "Effo." The dog let out two sharp barks. "Consurgo pariter accedo," she then said, and the dog fell back to all fours and then moved to her side, spinning around until he took up position at her side with his ears pricked forward, ready for anything.
"Smart huh?" she then proclaimed, turning back to him with a grin. Squall kept silent, though inwardly he was intrigued. A guard dog trained in ancient Centrani? He was now more than certain that this beast could do a helluva lot more impressive tricks than sitting and barking on command, more along the lines of ripping an enemy's throat out or willingly taking a bullet to protect it's charge. And something told him that this Rinoa was much more than a scrappy resistance member from Timber. Just what, exactly, was still a mystery.
Rinoa crouched back to her dog and ruffled his ears again. "I have some important work to do now," she murmured. "Be good, Angelo." The dog let out another whimper, as if answering her, and she smiled. Then with one last pat she straightened. "Ok, I'll meet you there," she announced without turning back before she strode briskly from the room.
Both Squall and Angelo watched her leave. Human teen turned to the dog when it let out another whimper, then it moped over to the corner of the bed and then plopped down, releasing a heavy sigh before it laid it's head down on it's feet.
Squall could sympathize.
He finally just followed after her. He caught up just as she reached the steps. The others were where he'd left them a moment ago. "This is Zell," he told her, pointing to the blonde who gave her an appreciative grin and a wave. Then Squall pointed to the chipper female still standing near the window, who was suddenly giving him an uncomfortably discerning stare, eyebrow quirked. "And Selphie."
"Hi everyone!" Rinoa called cheerfully. She carefully stepped over a still-prone Zell and descended the stairs, then turned to a doorway. "This way," she called, then entered.
Zone and Watts trotted after her obediently. Selphie and then Zell were right behind them. Squall hesitated a moment, bracing himself for anything, before he too stepped through the doorway.
Seifer had just barely made it to the station before the last train to Timber was set to disembark. He'd been forced to sell off a few of his supplies to afford a ticket, but sighed heavily as he stepped onto the rear car. He crouched inside, setting Hyperion down before he pulled out his leather case and went over the items he had left. Just 3 Potions and a Phoenix Down. He'd have to hope he didn't get hit with any bad status effects before he had a chance to replenish his supplies.
"What in the name of all that is holy in this world do you call yourself doing Almasy!?"
Seifer tensed and spun in his crouch long before the sentence was through, fist snatching up Hyperion and raising it up in less than a blink, training the barrel on the owner of the voice out of pure knee-jerk reaction instinct. The tall, furious blonde female who had appeared in the entrance didn't even flinch.
Quistis had her hands on her hips, her blonde hair slightly disheveled, dressed in the same peach outfit he'd seen her in last night. Seifer loosened again, releasing a heavy sigh and a curse.
"Hyne-dammit, Trepe," he snapped, lowering Hyperion again. "What in the hell are you doing here?"
"Oh no, Almasy," she sneered back, taking a step farther onto the train. "I do believe I asked you first! Just what do you call yourself doing here?!"
He scowled. "It's none of your business what I'm doing," he growled. She made a noise of annoyance—somewhere between a scream and a growl—and Seifer felt his eyebrow quirk. He'd never seen Quistis this openly pissed off before. Her pale cheeks were turning a fiery pink with her heightened emotion, her blue eyes sparkling wildly.
And all of a sudden Seifer had the uncomfortable realization that he'd been perhaps a little too harsh in his assessment of Trepe's looks previously. Sure, her face was on the narrow and angular side, but those lips of hers were very full and soft . . . utterly kissable. And she might have been on the tall side but most of that height of hers was in her very long legs—which any red blooded man couldn't help but picture wrapped around his waist or slung up over his shoulders. Her curves might have been subtle but they were definitely there, as the clingy material of her peach outfit revealed all too clearly. Especially as those small but rounded breasts of hers heaved against the front of her top with her completely lost temper.
Hyne damn, but Quistis Trepe in a temper-tantrum was hot as hell.
Seifer inwardly cursed rather viciously as his traitorous body started reacting to the incredibly arousing sight, and placed the blame solely on the head of the Dragon currently chortling gleefully in his mind for having put the idea of Quistis in his head in the first place.
"None of my business?" she hissed at him furiously at last, answering his comment. Seifer sighed and stood to face her fully, suddenly glad for the long coat he wore. "None of my business?!" she repeated, her tone becoming a touch shrill. "How dare I?" Quistis spat then. "How could I even dream about showing a shred of concern for the fact that one of my students is throwing his entire career away like a complete and utter moron!"
The last was a loud screech that set Seifer's ears to ringing. He glared down at her. In doing so he unwillingly noticed for the first time that the top of her head would brush his chin, and it'd only be a short distance indeed to bend down and—. Seifer quit that train of thought before it could go any further, hissing another foul curse at the now openly laughing GF in his brain before centering all of his attention on his enraged former instructor.
"How in the hell did you even know I'd left?" he demanded, changing the subject. Quistis scoffed, and her narrow glare told him she wasn't going to be deterred that easily from her mission, but answered him anyway, tone snide.
"You declared your intentions in the middle of the cafeteria, in hearing distance of about fifty other students and SeeDs. It wasn't long before just about everyone in Garden knew your foolish intentions." Quistis crossed her arms, jaw firming. "Get off this train, Seifer. Before you ruin everything you've ever worked for."
"I know what I'm doing, Trepe," he proclaimed irritably, turning away. He gave her a glare over his shoulder at her snort of abject disbelief. "Look, you may not think I'm worth spit, but I have my own code, Hyne-dammit. One that has nothing to do with your fucking weak-ass Garden rules or SeeD regulations. One of my friends is in trouble, and I am going to go help her. If you or Cid can't accept or understand that, then that's your own damned business."
Quistis seemed to draw up even straighter until he began to fear she might snap her own back.
"First of all, you have no idea about what I may or may not be thinking, so don't try and put words in my mouth," she growled.
"Oh, you mean like what you do with every other breath?" he shot back, sneering.
She actually started to shake, she was getting so worked up. Trepe was literally trembling with rage and—perversely—all Seifer could think about was backing her up, tearing her clothes off and fucking her fast and hard up against the wall of this Hyne-damned train. Hyne, he was sick. And really horny, he decided distastefully, shifting the front of his now-entirely-too-snug jeans inconspicuously beneath his coat.
"Secondly," she cried louder, "don't you dare try to make this sound like you're trying to be some noble knight in shining armor! You're just jealous and pissed off that Squall got a real mission and you got sent to go corral monsters." Seifer's scowl turned deadly then, any and all arousal he had been feeling disappearing like smoke on the summer breeze. He spun back to her, expression thunderous, but she continued heedlessly. "Hyne, when are you going to grow up," she hissed, "and stop devoting every waking moment of your life to outdoing Squall Leonhart!?"
"Oh-ho," he crowed bitterly. "Don't you even go there, you pretentious little bitch," he snarled. She gasped at his blatant insult, but Seifer towered over her, relentless. "Look to thine own ass first, instructor," he quipped bitterly then.
Apparently Quistis wasn't as stupid as she was currently trying to convince him. She backed off, crossing her arms in a clear sign of uncertainty and maybe even a bit of vulnerability.
"If you go AWOL now, you may not be allowed to ever come back," she announced then, her tone softer, almost sad.
Both of them tensed as the train suddenly released it's breaks with a loud screech, and then the machine began moving forward. Quistis turned to the door, eyes wide. When she turned back Seifer met her stare steadily, face blank.
"So be it." Then he smirked as her darkening glower revealed that Quistis had just realized she was now—whether she liked it or not—along for the ride. "Hope you like forests and anti-government resistance factions."