Author's Notes: I'm back with the second part of this mini-series! If you haven't caught the first ficlet, it's called Don't You Try To Take This From Me. :)

Please be aware that the sexual content intensifies in this installment. My vision is to portray relational desires and needs in a manner that is both realistic and idealistic. I want to paint a picture that details the raw urgency of physical lust and longing while expressing the honest demand for a deeper emotional connection—not just for Seifer, but for Quistis too.

Chapter 1: Denim Thief

We talked.

We kissed.

We touched.

I'm trying to figure out how to make all of that happen again. All of that, and so much more.

We've seen each other several times since then, in class and during the weekly Disciplinary Committee meetings, but it's been impossible to get a moment alone with Instructor Trepe.

She's made a habit of shooting subtle looks my way.

I like to give her undercover come-to-bed-with-me gazes—no room for misinterpretation there.

I've noticed that she's toned down her friendliness toward Leonhart. She no longer goes over to his desk to give him pointers or calls on his name during class lectures. As a result, I've slowly started to ignore him. I don't care if he's going to be in the same cohort as me for the early SeeD field exam that's coming up. Leonhart simply isn't a threat to me anymore.

On a Monday afternoon, Instructor Trepe shows up to our new DC Room with an anxious mien.

"Instructor Trepe!" exclaims Raijin. "You look kinda down…"

She takes a seat at her desk. No response, just a weak nod.

"What's wrong?" I ask with a frown.

Her eyes slowly focus on mine. "It appears that someone has been stealing my jeans from the laundry room…"

"DETAILS," demands Fujin.

"Three pairs have gone missing, all on different occasions." Instructor Trepe shakes her head as if she can't believe the predicament she's in. "At first I didn't even notice they were being taken! I thought I was just misplacing the jeans in my dorm room."

Fujin gapes at her. "INSTRUCTOR, MISPLACE?"

"I know people believe I'm the most organized individual in Garden—and it may be true, to a certain extent—but my head hasn't been in the game lately. I've been distracted and absentminded. Doing things I wouldn't normally do…"

Instructor Trepe glances at me then. I turn away with a smug look.

Shit. I think Fujin saw our exchange.

Well, it's not like she hasn't already suspected my feelings for Instructor Trepe. Let's just say that one time, Fujin caught me inflicting damage on a Trepie whom I'd detected recording the Instructor's voice for indecent purposes.

"Oh, why didn't you say so earlier?" Raijin's face lights up with interest. "We can check out the security footage!"

I blink at him disbelievingly. "Say what?"

Instructor Trepe looks hopeful.

"HACK THE FEED," orders Fujin.

Raijin starts typing methodically into his computer. "Instructor, can you tell me the approximate dates and times that you think your jeans went missing?"

"The latest incident was this morning at 1100 hours," she reports solemnly. "My low-rise vintage skinnies were taken after washing but before drying. The thief would've had to keep a close eye on me because I'd stepped out into the hallway for just under a minute to chat with a student."

I seem to be the only one in shock. "Raij, you're a hacker!?"

"Side hobby," he answers casually.

"A NATURAL," praises Fujin.

I shake my head, stunned. "Tell me again why you're enrolled in a military school…?"

Raijin merely grins and shrugs. "It's good to have options…?"

"HOW LONG?"

"Gimme at least twenty minutes," requests Raijin. "Haven't done this in a while, ya know? Gotta refresh my memory on the steps."

While we wait, Fujin and Instructor Trepe fold more paper cranes and I work on my essay for Advanced Principles of Para-Magic.

"What number are you guys on?"

"TWO HUNDRED RANGE…"

Instructor Trepe proudly holds up her latest crane. "Seifer, would you like to learn how to make one?"

"Nah, maybe some other time. I gotta finish my essay."

Except that my concentration isn't enough to actually make me productive because all I can think about is Instructor Trepe and her magnificent body—the part of it that I got to see, anyway.

"Alright, I'm in the system now!" says Raijin suddenly. "OH WAIT, hang on. Gotta go back in time."

We crowd around the computer and watch the screen in fascination.

"Stop," I tell him.

Raijin pauses the feed.

"There's our guy."

Instructor Trepe sucks in a breath. "Oh my goodness! He's a first-year from a class I taught last term."

Fujin smirks. "DUMB."

I nod in agreement. "Rookie mistake, not disguising yourself at the scene of the crime."

"This is bizarre…"

"What do you mean?" asks Raijin.

"Cadet Brooks isn't a member of my fan club, as far as I know." Instructor Trepe seems distressed by the very existence of the Trepies. "He's always been polite to me, even distant."

"It's always the polite and distant ones you gotta watch out for!" I burst out with a scowl. "We need to teach this motherfucker a lesson."

Fujin looks me in the eye and shakes her head with what I sense is profound female wisdom.

My friend places a determined hand on Instructor Trepe's shoulder. "CONFRONT."

Oh.

Fujin is encouraging Instructor Trepe to stand up for herself.

…And she probably also wants to prevent me from assaulting another student in a valiant yet imprudent attempt to protect Instructor Trepe from Garden's despicable knaves.

"Oh, I don't know…" Instructor Trepe looks a little lost at the concept. "What would I even say to Cadet Brooks?"

"BITCH BETTER HAVE MY JEANS!"

Raijin and I howl with laughter. Fujin's deadpan answers are the best, not to mention that a string of five words from her is downright impressive.

Instructor Trepe giggles with a hand over her mouth.

"You should go to this kid's dorm room." I grin mischievously. "Shake him up a bit, yeah?"

"I wouldn't even know how to do that!"

"Just cuss him out," jokes Raijin.

"CRUDE."

She looks resigned. "Perhaps I could try to buy my own washer?"

"Hey…" My smile fades and I turn serious. "I get it, Instructor. You want your fans to leave you alone, but you're also concerned about your reputation."

She smiles sadly as if to affirm what I just said.

"What if I went with you?"

"No," says Raijin. "The Trepies would still keep their operation going. It's not gonna change a thing."

I puff up my chest. "Even if I scare 'em shitless?"

"Even if you scare 'em shitless. I agree with Fuj! Think this would work best if Instructor Trepe goes by herself, ya know?"

"EARPIECE."

"Heeey, that's a great idea!" Raijin pipes up. "Seifer can watch you on the CCTV while coaching you on what to say!"

I turn to her and grin. "You up for this, Instructor?"

"Well…"

"Show them you're not afraid," I encourage her.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give it a try."

Fujin, Raijin, and I each extend a hand in a solidarity circle. A smile finds its way onto Instructor Trepe's lips as she joins us. I nudge her hand with my pinky and her smile widens ever so slightly.

I have a feeling that this is going to be a damn good crackdown.

Author's Notes: As you may have guessed, Fujin's utterance is a reference to the Rihanna song "Bitch Better Have My Money." :D