A/N: Hey my loves. Sorry again for the long delay. I actually had this nearly ready to upload for Valentine's Day but...I had a baby instead =) So a squirmy newborn in addition to obtaining my master's degree kinda held priority over this. I'm not abandoning it, I promise, and I do hope it won't be 6 months until the next update. xoxoxox


"What do you think?" Irvine asked, leaning back into the chair as he waited for Quistis to finish reading the hand written sheets of lyrics he had handed her. He watched her bob her head as she imagined a beat as she read, imagined them playing the song on stage while Irvine belted out the lyrics.

"Growling or singing?" she asked, running a nail over the bridge.

"Singing."

Quistis bobbed her head again. "Damn, Irvine," she said with a grin. "I didn't know we did love ballads." She took her pen and scratched in a few notes in the side of the sheet. "I like it. I'd suggest a few tweaks here and there but not much. Did you do all the lyrics yourself?"

"Nah, Squall helped."

Quistis pursed her lips into a sly grin. "Thinking about your lady loves?"

Irvine bashfully smiled and tossed a wadded piece of paper at her. "What can I say? Selphie has always been a sort of inspiration for me. And Squall? Well…Rinoa has certainly opened something within him."

"That she has," Quistis murmured, gnawing on her bottom lip as she read over the lyrics one more time. "This is for the…" She blinked and tapped a nail along the table as she counted. "Third song we've completed, yeah?"

"Yeah. It'd go with it right? Squall wrote in where the beats would coincide with some of the words."

"I think so. I can visualize it. Or…hear it. With my mind."

Irvine chuckled and took back the sheets of paper. "I get you."

A knock came up behind them and Quistis glanced over her shoulder to see Kiros standing there with a grin. "You ready for your vocals, Miss Trepe?" he asked.

Quistis winced and quickly looked back at Irvine. "I don't know why I'm so nervous. I sang in front of crowds. Why does it freak me out to sing in a studio? Especially when I'm only doing the two songs I've got vocals on?"

Irvine shrugged and rose from his seat. "Could be a lot of things." He extended a hand for her and pulled her up. "I mean, those songs we've only done live. We haven't done an official recording of them. Hey, if it feels better we can turn the lights off. Some people find it helps."

She twisted her lips and followed the two men down the hall. "I guess."

As they walked past one of the breakrooms they noticed Zell leaning over the back of a folding chair, his arm outstretched before him as a video played before him and Squall. "Fuckin' trippy huh?" Zell asked, his voice low as he rubbed his fingers along his jaw.

Squall said nothing, only stared at the cell phone screen before him.

Irvine poked his head into the room. "What're you watching?"

"Conspiracy theories on the murder of Tupac Shakur."

Quistis paused and looked over at Squall, who did not even seem phased to Zell's response. "Seriously?" she asked, incredulous.

"Have to entertain us somehow while we wait for your recordings to be completed," Squall said. He lifted his head and gave Quistis a slight smirk. "We also watched a conspiracy theory of a curse on Bruce Lee and his family."

"There was a curse?"

Squall looked over to Irvine and shook his head. "No. It was a series of unfortunate events due to incompetent stage hands and neglect during filming. But I will admit that it was interesting to watch—despite the upsetting circumstances, of course."

"Interesting."

"Alright, no more stalling," Kiros said with a chuckle. "Come along, Miss Trepe, your recording studio awaits."

Quistis shot the two men a grimace and Zell gave her the thumbs up. "You'll do great, my Queen," he told her. "Just close your eyes and pretend you're on stage and all of your adoring fans are watching you and drooling over your intense magnetism."

She chuckled and blew him a kiss. "Oh you," she said. "You know just what to tell a girl to put a smile on her face." With a sudden boost in her step, she turned on her heel and followed Kiros down the hall with Irvine closely behind.

Squall nodded at Zell. "When are you going to confess your love to her?"

Zell let out a laugh and tossed his phone onto the couch. "Oh that's rich. Maybe on my death bed." He narrowed his eyes at Squall and a wicked smirk formed onto his lips. "When are you going to tell Rinoa?"

His only response was a shove to Zell's shoulder.


A few days passed and Rinoa's ears perked up at the sound of her front door unlocking. She poked her head out from the hallway and smiled as she watched Squall cross over the threshold. "Hey stranger," she called out, pulling out the last of her laundry from the dryer. She nodded at the knapsack he settled onto the ground. "I just finished a load of laundry, do you need anything washed?"

"Not at the moment." He glanced over to her kitchen. "I'm starving though. You hungry?"

"Eh, I could eat." Suddenly her face lit up. "Hey! How about you teach me how to cook? We could run to the grocery store, get some stuff, and you can teach me how to cook, you know, like a big girl." She giggled and jumped into Squall's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist when he caught her. "Missed your face."

He chuckled low within his throat, his eyes still wide from her sudden leap onto him. "Missed yours." He tightened his hold around her and kissed along her jaw. "What do you want to learn to cook?"

Rinoa darted out her tongue and caught his bottom lip. "I dunno." She wriggled out of his grasp and stood up straight. "I don't have a grill so I can't cook meat properly…I mean, I do throw chicken in the oven sometimes."

"Ok but what do you want to learn how to cook?" he repeated.

"Let's start with something simple. Ooh like an omlette! I like your omlettes."

"The one with sausage and peppers right?"

She clapped her hands. "Yes! That one sausage with the spices in it, Andy something."

"Andouille."

"Yeah, that one!" She hurried over to her coffee table and pulled open a notebook. "I'll start the list, we'll head to the grocery store, and when we come back I shall be your ever dutiful student of culinary perfection."

Squall made a slight face. "About that…I've been staying here a while, why don't we switch and you stay at my place?"

Rinoa narrowed her eyes at the suggestion. "Hmm," she murmured, twisting her lips. "You don't like my kitchen," she said.

He didn't say anything at first, but the corner of his mouth upturned only the slightest bit in amusement. "It's not that I don't like it," he assured her. "But if you think I'll be able to teach you how to cook when all you have in stock is one frying pan, a baking sheet, and a pot, then you are going to get a very rude awakening."

"Bare minimum," she shrugged. "Just need them to boil water, bake a pizza, and fry bacon!"

The grin emerged fully and he grasped her jaw between his fingers. "You're not in college anymore, Rinoa," he told her. "Time to learn how to cook like the grown woman that you are."

Feeling playful, she pursed her lips into a fish-like manner. "Why bother when I have you to cook for me?"

"Because you literally just asked me to teach you five minutes ago."

Rinoa let out a laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Technicalities."

Squall shook his head and ran his fingers through her hair. "Just go pack a damn bag," he muttered, releasing her and heading towards her room to make sure he didn't leave anything behind. As he crossed the threshold he noticed the bottle of painkillers atop the nightstand. "Are you still taking those?"

"Hm?" She came behind him and followed his gaze. "Oh, no. I just haven't put them into the medicine cabinet. Haven't been having any pain since…Monday, maybe?"

Gently he ran his thumb over the spot of her eye where he had last seen bruises. He couldn't see any remnants of the the splash of purple and yellow that had been there before, but he knew better than anyone that pain could remain beneath the surface of flesh long after the bruises had faded. "Does it still hurt?"

She smiled at the tenderness of his touch and placed her hand over his. "Not anymore," she murmured, placing a kiss to his palm. "Don't even need makeup to hide bruises anymore. Stiffness in my neck and back are gone. I feel good."

"That's a relief."

Rinoa lifted onto her tiptoes and planted a quick kiss to his chin. "Give me a few minutes to pack and then we'll head to the grocery store."


"Hold the knife like this," he said, holding the knife in his hand and waiting for her to mimick him.

Watching his movements, she mirrored his stance and held the knife just above the end of the halved green pepper. "Ok," she said softly, eyeing his every move as he slowly sliced through his own half.

"Don't cut yourself," he told her, instantly halting and pointedly staring at where she had almost started to slice.

"Oh shit." She readjusted her hands and carefully cut the knife through the pepper's skin. "Did you cut yourself many times before you mastered it?" she asked.

"It happens. When you're around sharp ojects something is bound to get nicked." He came up behind her, placing his hands over hers. "Like this," he said, slowly moving his hands with hers, slicing and cutting and swiping the pieces aside. "You'll get your own rhythm eventually."

Rinoa chuckled, her eyes never leaving his hands. Silently she bit down into her bottom lip, suppressing a moan when she felt the heat of his body searing her through her t-shirt.

After a few moments of silent cutting, he gently nipped at her earlobe. "See? You've got it."

"No," she moaned softly. "Keep showing me. I'm a very slow learner."

He pressed against her, earning a muted squeal from her as she felt his growing length. His stubble rasped against her cheek.

Soon after Rinoa wasn't even moving on her own. He moved her hands for her, slowly, carefully. Her eyes closed and she allowed her head to fall back into his chest. Her lips parted and she swiveled her hips ever so delicately.

"Afterwards," he told her, his voice a strained grumble through clenched teeth.

Rinoa gave a soft pout. "Don't be a tease," she said with a grin.

Squall responded with a quick bite to her shoulder, earning a squeal from her, before turning away and grabbing a bowl to dump the chopped peppers into.

"So what got you into cooking?" Rinoa asked, focusing on cutting up the Andouille sausages that Squall handed her. "Did your sister teach your or did you just kinda teach yourself as you went along?"

He shrugged and pulled out a carton of eggs from the fridge. "Ellone taught me basics. She liked to cook but because she was going to school and working two jobs to support us until I was old enough to start working on my own. I tried my hand at cooking to at least give some help."

Rinoa made a soft noise in her throat and her shoulders shot up to her ears. "Awwww!" she squealed. "You are so damn cute!" She squealed even more when she saw that Squall's ears began to turn red and he lowly chuckled as he attempted to keep his face aimed away from her.

"I thought that if I made myself useful I wouldn't get returned to the orphanage."

Rinoa's hands dropped onto the counter. She could not even imagine how it must have felt to live in foster care. She remembered reading somewhere that many kids just kept their clothes and belongings in trash bags because they knew that they would just up and move again. Her heart clenched at the thought of a young Squall equating himself and his only possessions to that of throw away garbage. "But she was your sister! Did you really think she would…return you?"

"Well, looking back I know now that Ellone never would have," he said. "But at twelve years old? I wasn't entirely optimistic about the situation."

"Understandable."

Squall placed a pan over a burner on the stove and started cracking eggs. "Watch your fingers," he said, nodding to where the edge of the knife was just a hair away from the side of Rinoa's finger.

"Oh shit!" she gasped, readjusting the knife yet again and focusing her attention onto the sausages.


"Wow, I made this?" Rinoa exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly as she looked over the half eaten omelette upon her plate. She giggled and looked up at Squall, who was looking at her with such warmth behind those icy blue eyes that she was surprised she wasn't yet blushing. "I mean…with your help, of course," she stammered.

A small smile touched Squall's lips, soft and brief, before disappearing as he turned away to take hold of his coffee cup. "You did well," he said.

She smiled and they continued their meal until the plates were bare. "Care to top me off?" she asked, dangling her coffee mug by the handle.

"Sure. Splash of coffee and the rest creamer, right?"

"Aw, you know me so well." Rinoa blew him a kiss while aiming her middle finger at him. As he turned away to refill the mugs, Rinoa's eyes traveled down the line of his back before settling onto his rear. Suddenly coffee was the furthest thing from her train of thought. She rose from her seat wrapped her arms around his waist, one hand starting to work the zipper of his jeans while the other slithered up the front of his shirt. "It's afterwards," she murmured, standing on tiptoe to reach his ear.

Squall sucked in a breath, desperately trying to keep his body from jolting. Instead he maintained a smooth and calm demeaner as he turned around and took Rinoa into his arms, claimed her lips and tongue. "How're your bruises?"

"Gone," she moaned.

"Good." Moving forward, he pushed her against the center island, his palm slamming onto the countop as his teeth nipped at her lips before trailing down the elegant slope of her neck. As she moaned and writhed against him, he pulled off his shirt and helped her with her own. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," he whispered.

"You're fine," she gasped, her tongue caressing over the shell of his ear.

"Please tell me," he urged. "Last thing I want is to hurt you."

Rinoa took his hand and placed kisses over his palm, gently suckled at his wrist. "I'll tell you," she promised.

He dropped to his knees, his hands tugging her free from her leggings and panties. His tongue traced up along the inside of her thigh, earning a groan from her. When she reflexively started to close her legs his hands kept them apart, keeing her open for him. As his tongue slowly ventured higher to the inner part of her that had eagerly awaited him, he felt his breath coming faster, his pants straining tighter. He could taste her all day.

Rinoa's fingers speared into his hair, her nails gently clawing over his scalp to keep his mouth exactly where she wanted it. Her gasps came out as shortened screams as she reached her peak.

Squall stood to his feet, his hands roamed over her breasts as he tilted her head back, his lips descending to hers. Slowly he turned her around and bent her over the counter, his palm sliding up her back as he gently pushed her to lay flat. His other hand took hold of her wrists and stacked them atop of her lower back. "Do you trust me?" he asked lowly.

She felt a blush ride high over the apples of her cheeks. She closed her eyes and licked her lips in anticipation. "Yes," she whispered. "Always."

He pulled back and Rinoa nearly whimpered as the heat of him left the backs of her thighs. She heard the unmistakable sounds of him undoing his belt clasp and she instinctively curled her toes. Gently, yet firmly, he bound her wrists with his belt and tightened it. Before she could let out a moan, he pressed up against her and spoke into his ear, his voice gravelly and sending vibrations across her flesh. "If it's too much, let me know."

All she could do was nod. Her teeth bit down into her lower lip to keep from crying out as he slid into her at a torturously slow pace. She groaned and begged him to go faster.

Only happy to oblige, Squall did as he was told. With as much fervor as she could handle, Squall pounded into her, drunk on the sounds of her ecstatic cries. He leaned in deeply, his lips just barely brushing over her cheek. He watched as she bit down on her lip, whimpered and gasped with each of his thrusts, her eyes closed as she let the pleasure ripple through her.

Gently his hand cupped her chin, bringing her head further back so he could reach her lips. The feel of her, the taste of her, just her very presence was enough to drive Squall over the edge. Her eyes opened and their gazes locked. When she saw that he was watching her so intensely, his eyes flaring with desire, Rinoa let out a sultry chuckle and licked her lips.

Squall let out a growl and slanted his mouth over hers. "Woman, you will be the death of me."


Saturday August 11th The Wedding

Rinoa panted and fanned herself with the wedding program. "Good lord," she muttered. "A heat wave would roll through this weekend." She glanced over to where Zone and Watts were flittering about, snapping photos of the guests as they strolled in through the doors.

One of the bridesmaids approached her with a glass of water. "You look like you're about to melt into a puddle!" she laughed.

"Oh, thank you!" Rinoa threw back the glass and practically moaned as the icy water made its way down her throat. "Much appreciated."

"Any time. The vendor's bringing out another barrel of water in just a moment." She gave Rinoa a pat to the shoulder and ushered off to continue her bridesmaid duties.

"How're you holding up?" Watts asked, his eyes down as he adjusted the light setting on his camera.

Rinoa let out a groan and pouted, fanning herself again. "I had forgotten how hot it gets in summer out here. I was enjoying the summers that didn't get above ninety out in Timber."

Watts laughed and wiped at the sweat that formed above his brow. "Yeah it gets pretty brutal. Gets hotter every year." He clicked through the photographs he'd already taken and showed a few to Rinoa. "Alright, so the plan is that when the ceremony starts Zone will be behind the altar viewing down the aisle. I'll be at the mouth of the aisle getting the party as they all walk in. You'll be behind everyone for back shots and the groom's reaction as the bride walks down."

"Got it. And the bride told me she's wearing her grandmother's cathedral veil so that will give me the perfect vantage point."

"Awesome." Watts looked down at his watch. "We got about thirty minutes till the ceremony starts."

Rinoa nodded and looked over the venue. "I'm gonna get a few shots of all the pretty little details," she said. She gave Watts a quick pat to the shoulder and walked away to photograph the table that held the placecards. "So much detail!" she whispered to herself in awe.

Each placecard was a small, handblown shot glass (made by the bride herself), filled with the groom's favorite tequila and topped off with a slice of lime. A toothpick decorated with a flag presented each name. Rinoa zoomed in on the table's sign, "Take a shot and take your seat!" She snapped a few more pictures before looking over the names. The bride had even mentioned how she hand wrote each name and table number with her new calligraphy pens. Rinoa was about to walk over to the table that held the guestbook when a name caught her eye.

Mr. L. Loire. Table 6

Rinoa ran her tongue over her teeth. "No, couldn't be," she whispered. Shaking off the thought, she continued snapping away. However, that was short-lived. She made her way to the guestbook and flipped through a few pages to look at the names already written in.

A guest approached and gingerly held the pen as he waited for Rinoa to step away.

"Oh!" Rinoa smiled and gestured to the guestbook. "Go right ahead." She raised her camera and took a few shots of the man signing his name. She giggled when he then made an exaggerated face, clearly showing his excitement as he signed the book. "Very nice," she laughed. "Thank you."

When he left Rinoa flipped back through the pages. After a moment, she found what she was looking for on the page that had the groom twirling his beautiful bride to be along the pier. Inked in the upper corner of the page read:

To be friends, to like one another, and to love one another…you can't do these things alone. You need somebody. Congratulations on finding your somebody. Enjoy each and every day with each other.

Love, Laguna & Yelena Loire

Rinoa swallowed and quickly snapped a shot of it just in case anyone was watching her stare at the guestbook. Within her chest she felt her heart thunder. Holy shit, she thought. Ohmygod, he's here. He's here. Squall's dad is… She turned away and made a beeline for the reception hall to take pictures of the table set up.

She took her time exploring through the reception hall and all of the decorations. Upon each guest's table were adorned with arrangements of brightly colored wildflowers, the bride's favorite. In the center of each table, with the table numbers, were photographs of the couple throughout their courtship. She was in the middle of centering a shot when Zone came into the hall.

"Alright girlie," he called. "To our stations!"

"Yes sir!" Rinoa held her camera close to her chest and quickly ran out with Zone. In the midst of her exit she nearly ran into a wedding guest. "Oh! I am so sorry!" She grimaced when she saw that the man was holding a champagne flute. "Oh no…did I spill your…?"

The man laughed and shook his head. "No, no, my dear, I had just polished it off! No need to worry." He gave her another smile and made his way around her.

Rinoa grinned and continued after Zone.

"Laguna! You son of a bitch, how're you doin'?"

Rinoa stopped in her tracks. Trying not to be as obvious as she was sure she was appearing, she forced herself to start walking again…at a slow pace. As nonchalantly as she could, she glanced over her shoulder.

There he was. While the photograph she had seen of his was just under thirty years old, she could still see the youthful man in that face. He was grinning, outstretching his hand for the man with the empty champagne flute. His once inky black hair was now streaked with gray and pulled back into a low ponytail. Though he clearly did not keep up with the intense work out regime insisted by the military, his frame was still thick and muscular with only a bit of softness from age. His eyes were still that stark blue with gray flecks. His lips still curved with that reserved and subtle grin that had unknowingly been passed down to his son.

There he was. Squall's father.

Rinoa's head pounded with crashing waves filled to the brim with varying scenarios and outcomes and open-ended conversations that led down paths she wasn't sure she wanted to venture through. What to do…what to do?

"Rinoa!"

"Coming." Silencing her mind, she turned away and followed Zone towards the ceremony.