FFVIII || How Not To Date Blondes: Chapter Two
Title: How Not To Date Blondes
Chapter Two: In Which A Third Blond Enters The Scene
Authors: first_seventhe and rosencrantz
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters/Pairings included: Quistis, Zell, Seifer, Cast (eventual Quistis/Zell)
Rating: M / R (Profanity, eventual mature situations)
Summary: Quistis is looking for another promotion. Zell is looking for some action with that cute library girl. And Seifer? He’s just looking for trouble.
Read it at fanfiction.net here.
Chapter 2: In Which A Third Blond Enters The Scene (and Expresses Frustration)
"Seifer."
The voice was unusually low-pitched, so Seifer chose to ignore it. He was currently crouched in some really pointy bushes, eyeing the Balamb fill station, and doing his best to be quiet.
"Seifer."
He shook his head, as if trying to scare away some annoying insect. Couldn't they see he was trying to concentrate?
"IDIOT."
He turned around to hiss at Fujin. "Can't you see I'm working here?"
Fujin pointed, her pale hair and fair skin looking eerie in the darkness. "Empty," she whispered forcefully. "Wasting time."
"No one's been around there for an hour, ya know?" A loud rustling in the bushes alerted him to Raijin's large presence. "So we can’t buy anythin’ anyway. What the hell are ya waitin' for?"
Seifer rolled his eyes in a grand display of irritation. "We're breaking in, stupid." He glanced back at the convenience store, tucked up snugly beside the fill station and almost gleaming with promise. "If you two are so sure that it's empty, then yeah, let's go."
Fujin was eyeing him with that cold calculating glare that always made him feel a little nauseous. "EXPLAIN," she said, her voice rising back to normal tone.
Seifer sighed, exasperated. "I'm sick of eating the stupid fish we catch off that stupid dock. I want some real honest-to-Hyne cigarettes. I want beef jerky. And I want some goddamn toilet paper." Raijin snickered, and Seifer whirled on him in the darkness. "And don't laugh, because I’ve seen you scratching your ass when you think no one's looking, Raijin. I'm absolutely sick of living in that crap little shack without a fuckin' toilet!"
Raijin's blush was almost palpable through the leaves as Fujin muttered: "MEN. IDIOTS."
"So," Seifer continued smugly. "We're going to help ourselves from that little convenience store, right over there."
Fujin narrowed her one remaining eye and asked plainly, "JOB?"
Seifer shrugged it off. "As if anyone would hire me now," he said. "I'm lucky they let me hang around this lovely town."
"We could get jobs," Raijin offered.
Seifer shrugged again. "What's the point?" He shifted in the bushes, attempting to get comfortable. "They'll figure out you're with me, and then zip!"
There was a moment of silence while Fujin and Raijin looked at each other. Seifer started to get antsy. "It's just a convenience store," he said finally. "And I'll go myself if you don't go with me."
Fujin, surprisingly, was the first to nod. "GO," she whispered.
Seifer went, slipping across the dimly lit yard to the store's back door, fumbling with the lock briefly before glancing over his shoulder and then hissing a low potency fire spell. The doorknob fused and then melted (the wood around it charring slightly), and Seifer rammed his shoulder into it, and it opened.
"Yes."
The store was a veritable treasure trove of goodies. Seifer made a beeline over to the snack rack, pocketing every bag of teriyaki beef jerky he could find (and one bag of cheese curls he decided to hide from Fujin). He watched Raijin snag a jumbo-sized bag of pork rinds - reinforcing his faith in the man's intelligence - and smirked as Fujin herself stocked up on Choco-Chocobo Bars and a bag of tortilla chips.
Seifer then snuck behind the counter, deftly selecting three packs of Malboros (named after that filthy great monster) and four packs of Chimera Strikes (only slightly less nasty). Those went in the other pocket of his coat - the one not stuffed with jerky - and left him one remaining inside pocket, and anything he could carry in his arms. Turning to his left, he spotted the little rack of behind-the-counter medications: glancing quickly over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, he quickly nabbed a little tube of soothing crème and slipped it into his pocket. A couple of Remedies followed it because, hey, those were always useful.
"DONE?" Fujin's rough voice carried through the store, and Seifer shook his head.
"Here," he hissed, approaching the shelf with toilet paper: one six-pack flew through the air towards Raijin's head, another following shortly after in Fujin's direction. Seifer hoisted a third pack on his shoulder and made for the door. As he passed the register he paused, grabbing a couple foil packs of Triple Triad cards - they'd all be shit cards, but it would at least give the trio something to do when they weren't fishing.
Raijin glanced over at the register. "’Ey, Seifer, shouldn't we grab a little of that cash?"
Seifer shook his head violently. "No way. We're not petty thieves."
Fujin gave him a once-over, her eyes pointedly resting on the jerky, and then met his gaze challengingly. Seifer glared back.
"We're above that, you guys. Stuff is just stuff. Taking somebody's money - we don't need to stoop to that." He shifted the pack of toilet paper, grumbling. "I don't need money. Just a little help."
Raijin grinned back at him. "Yeah, you're right," he said. "We don't need money." Seifer smirked.
As they left the store triumphantly, Seifer paused at the door, scratching a very cheeky "Thanks, suckers!" into the charred wood with a penknife he'd picked up off the counter.
They swiftly headed back to the small shack they'd been using; Fujin had found it one day while looking for Seifer, and they'd been able to fix up the roof of the little cabin enough that it made a decent place to sleep, hang out, and smoke fish. It had probably been some Balamb fisherman's storage unit at some point; the corners were filled with a variety of useless knickknacks, and there was a strangely foreboding cellar none of the trio wanted to enter (though Seifer had scoped it out momentarily, searching for alcohol). They'd pilfered enough towels and blankets from clotheslines to make the place at least livable, if not likeable.
Seifer was somewhat grateful that the citizens of Balamb were either kind enough or dumb enough to look the other way on the days he decided wilderness living was for chumps and came to the pier to fish. He wasn't entirely sure what his status was with Balamb, or Garden, or the rest of the world for that matter - but he didn't really care, either. The Posse had stuck with him, and for now he was surviving.
They tossed their goods onto the floor. Raijin immediately took off for the woods, bearing a familiar-looking tube of crème in his hand; Fujin snickered as she began to stack bags of junk food in a very crumbly-looking cabinet. Seifer triumphantly unwrapped a pack of Malboros, almost tingling in anticipation, and -
"Fujin," he barked, "got a light?"
She shook her head, pointing instead at the little embankment they used to cook their dinners. "FIRE?"
Seifer grinned, calling up another low-level fire spell, igniting the dry wood instantly. "Oh baby, I missed you," he crooned to the precious cancer stick as he held it out towards the cheerfully crackling fire.
WHOOSH!
Cursing and shaking out his fingers, Seifer blew the charred remains of the cigarette away. "Shit," he mumbled, fumbling for another and drawing it out of the pack. This time he approached the fire more carefully, eyes narrowing in concentration as he cautiously edged his fingers towards the flame -
WHOOSH!
After the fifth cigarette burned to ash, he stood up. "Fuck," he said plainly. "I need matches."
.x.x.x.
Quistis looked over the newspaper's morning headline and furrowed her brow. Balamb seemed like such a quiet, peaceful town; petty thievery and vandalism had never been a problem before.
"Probably just some kids making trouble," she assured herself, folding the paper away only to be greeted by Selphie's wide grin.
"Hey, Quisty, got a minute?" she asked a little too innocently.
"No," Quistis replied immediately, grabbing her coffee and beating a hasty retreat from the
Cafeteria.
.x.x.x.
"You sure about this, boss?" Raijin said uncertainly.
"Have I ever steered you wrong?" Seifer asked with a cocky grin.
"YES," Fujin replied without hesitation. She had been snapping at them for days after discovering the empty, crumpled bag of what had once been cheese curls hidden on the lowest shelf of their makeshift pantry. Something had to be done before the delicate balance of their Posse was disrupted, and as a responsible leader, Seifer took it upon himself to give the crew a new mission. That he would be the only one actually reaping a benefit from that night's little excursion was, of course, purely coincidental. His only problem was that the team spirit still seemed to be lacking.
"But I really like the fish sticks here," Raijin complained.
"DOUBLE CHOCOLATE MOUSSE," Fujin added.
Seifer grimaced and turned his attention back towards the darkened restaurant. "Since when was the last time you guys could afford eating at the Balamb Bounty, huh?" he growled. "Besides, we're not here for the food. All I need is a couple of goddamn matches!"
Fujin rolled her eyes. "STUPID," she said bluntly.
"Well, it’s not exactly my fault that they put cameras up at the fill station!" Seifer grumbled. Noticing the two staring at him, he shrugged and gave them a broad smirk. "It's OUR fault. We're a Posse, aren't we? We stick together through thick and thin! Now are we doing this or not?"
Raijin looked at the ground shamefacedly and rubbed the back of his head. "They do really great tartar sauce, too, ya..."
Seifer could tell he was losing them. Drastic times called for drastic measures. "Come on, guys, think about it. We've been living like bandits for months already. Nobody gives a shit about us. We're nothing to these people. Face it - no one's gonna help us outta this one." He glared at both of his friends until their gazes dropped, each hearing the truth in his assessment.
"But we haven't lost it all. We still got each other, and we still got our pride." He noted with pleasure that both Raijin and Fujin had looked up at his words with something like the beginning of hope. "So what if we got it tough? If we want something, all we gotta do is help ourselves. And helpin' ourselves is what the Balamb Bandits do best. Are you with me?"
"Ya!" Raijin said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Nobody's gonna keep us from havin' pickles and tartar sauce with our fish!"
Fujin's eye was glowing with an almost unholy light. "DOUBLE CHOCOLATE MOUSSE," she stated again firmly.
"That's the spirit!" Seifer grinned, though he did shift uneasily as Raijin and Fujin started twitching and salivating visibly. "Let's move."
Stealthily they crept towards the back door of the restaurant; after a few hushed curses and unsatisfactory attempts to crack the lock on the service door, Raijin pushed Seifer aside and simply booted the rickety door open before storming in. It led directly into the kitchen, and they wasted no time in plundering the restaurant of its goods. Raijin was busily stuffing condiments into his pockets, while Fujin gravitated straight towards the huge wall-sized refrigerator that housed the perishable goods.
Noting their work with a pleased nod, Seifer left his two minions to their own devices as he crept into the dining room. Finding the small bowl of complimentary matches near the bar was no problem at all; he took the time to seat himself on one of the benches, light the cigarette he had brought along and savor it with a long, slow puff. He took another drag before opening his eyes again and surveying his surroundings.
The Balamb Bounty was the most popular restaurant in the small fishing town; while not necessarily a five-star establishment like that Felicia’s on the Wharf, it was certainly more than a few steps above the cheap fried food they dished out at Wendigo's or Behemoth King. It was also one of the favorite local hangouts of Balamb Garden's denizens. There was even one of the navy blue SeeD cadet uniforms framed and hanging from the wall. "Huh," Seifer said, squinting at it. Something was strangely familiar about it, and he leaned in closer to have a look at the plaque.
"Authentic Cadet Uniform of the legendary SeeD Zell Dincht, Hero of Balamb"
There was even a tiny autographed photo of Zell tucked into the corner of the frame, smiling obnoxiously and giving the camera a thumbs-up. Seifer removed the cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it out between photo-Zell's eyes.
"Hero of Balamb my ass," Seifer growled to himself. Feeling restless, he moved himself behind the bar and began to pace its length, pausing to slip one of the bottles of whisky into a waiting pocket. "I bet that Chicken Wuss doesn't even eat here," he complained to himself, stopping in front of the chalked-in menu behind the bar. The specials for the next day had already been noted down.
Grilled Fastitocalon with Pickles and Tartar Sauce - 11 gil
Steamed Adamantoise in Garlic Butter - 18 gil
Double Chocolate Mousse - 6 gil
Ask about our soup of the day!
It was a nice menu, with carefully-chalked in drawings of smiling fish eagerly urging customers to try out their tasty real-life brethren. The whole thing was cheerfully tacky in that special way that was unique to Balamb. And it was all being blessed by the Patron Saint of Balamb Tackiness, Zell Dincht.
Seifer smirked to himself and picked up the piece of chalk resting on the string tied to the board. "Well, well," he grinned thoughtfully. "If they like Dincht so much, they should give him a menu he'd appreciate." And with that, he began to write.
Grilled Chicken A La Wuss (No Pickles, Suckers!) - 5 gil (not worth much)
Seifer snickered. He smudged out the next line of the menu with his sleeve, and wrote over it in messy script.
Hot Dogs! Garden Special! Definitely Including Grade-B Bite Bug Gizzards! - 2 gil
He paused, making a disgusted face as the reminiscent taste of Garden's nasty hot dogs filled his mouth. That Cafeteria had been so gross. He was glad to be eating jerky, honestly. In fact, it would be only fitting for the Balamb Bounty to be serving a meal in honor of Garden Cafeteria's best cooking, he thought, smirking as he wrote:
Zell Dincht's Famous Onion n' Garlic Adamantoise Mega Pancakes with Apple and Fish Chunks, Tofu-Bacon-Maple Syrup and a Honey-Mustard Cheese filling - 50 gil
That sounded suitably disgusting, Seifer decided cheerfully, wondering how many of those simpering idiots in Balamb would order it just because it had Dincht's name on it. Stupid suck-ups. The thought prompted him to add one line below it; this time he took his time with his handwriting, scrawling carefully:
Get yourself Kiss-Ass Sauce for free -
Courtesy of the Balamb Bandits
An undignified snort from behind alerted him; Raijin was smirking. Fujin leant forward, grabbing the chalk and writing underneath in her own strict capitals:
P.S. THANKS FOR THE MOUSSE.
.x.x.x.
Zell slowed down and grabbed the wildly swinging punching bag, wiping some sweat from his brow. He frowned as he listened to the radio report; the Balamb vandals were getting bolder.
"Maybe I should visit Ma when I have some leave and see if she's alright."
Cheered at the thought of having a brief vacation from his Garden duties, he turned back to his punching bag - and spotted the wrinkled application form lying on his bed, covered with his pitiful attempts to answer the questions.
"Dammit," he grunted, whirling around and sending another fist flying into the bag.
.x.x.x.
"Yes, sir."
Squall held the phone slightly away from his ear; the shrieking babble would've been audible from a mile away. The male voice at the other end was attempting to speak calmly over what sounded like an angry harpy in the background. Squall winced as the woman reached a particularly high note, causing the glass on his desk to shudder slightly.
"I understand, sir. We'll be on it right away."
Once the phone call was over, Squall allowed himself a short muffled stream of curse words under his breath. Ever since the reports on the Balamb Bandits had begun making the paper, he'd had the sneaking suspicion that - despite his best efforts to avoid it all - Garden would eventually be drawn into the mess. And he'd been right. The Bandits had apparently raided the mayor's house last night, completely rewiring his security system. And from what Squall could translate from the shrieking in the background, it seemed they'd also somehow turned the mayor's wife's hair bright green.
The mayor, incensed, had invoked Garden Regulation 42A's sub clause - known as the Grounds and Location Law - which stated that Balamb Garden, in payment for its location on Balamb Island, was obligated to come to the aid of Balamb citizens in the case of an emergency and at a steep discount. Squall had tried to argue that a small and insignificant (if somewhat annoying) pack of teenaged bandits didn't constitute an emergency.
The mayor's wife, screaming something about green hair, had refused to listen. It was moments like this which made Squall resent his current position as Commander and think idly about things like gunblades and resigning.
Squall muttered to himself as he opened the top drawer, pulling out the familiar Garden Funds and Manpower Allocation Request and Requisition Form. He fumbled through the papers on his desk angrily, searching for a pen that wasn't bright pink and didn't write in glitter (Rinoa had given him those as a gift). Finally his fingers closed around a simple black ballpoint. Squall paused, trying to quell the sense of annoyance growing in his brain long enough to come up with a rational plan.
He'd order a brief investigation of the crime scenes and see whether there were any obvious clues as to who as behind it. And then he'd order a nightly patrol of the town - this would be an excellent job for younger cadets in line for their SeeD qualification test, he decided, writing that down in the appropriate spot. He'd have to send some high caliber SeeDs for the investigation, though, to appease the mayor and his loud-mouthed wife.
Squall turned to face his computer, calling up the database which contained the dynamically updated schedules of all highly-ranked SeeDs - his friends. It was the one useful thing Rinoa had done in his office, although she was always scolding him for using it for work-related purposes rather than to schedule 'fun lunches out' or 'happy hours' or some other harebrained idea. He scanned it over. Quistis was in, which wasn't a big surprise; she'd been in late every day for the past two weeks. Selphie and Irvine were both out - again, not a big surprise. But Zell was in, and active. Squall scanned Zell's schedule briefly; Zell had nothing marked, so why he was even active was a mystery, but at this point Squall didn't care.
He hit the button on his phone to page Sasha, the young cadet from the library who served as his secretary on Mondays and Wednesdays. His door swung open, revealing a cheerful face framed in bright red hair and brushed with freckles.
"Good morning, Commander. What can I do for you?"
"Have Instructor Quistis Trepe and active SeeD Zell Dincht report to my office immediately," he ordered; and then, remembering another scolding from Rinoa, added lamely, "please."
"Sure thing!" the girl chirped, closing the door behind her. Squall turned back to the request form, thinking very angry thoughts about the mayor of Balamb and his misfortuned wife.
The form was almost completed by the time the door opened again; Quistis stepped in, closing it carefully behind her. "Good morning, Squall," she said, a little hesitantly. "Is something going on?"
"Quistis," he said without even looking up, "I need you to go into Balamb and investigate these bandits we've been getting reports on."
"Hadn't we decided that Garden was going to ignore the bandits?" Quistis asked in that teacher-voice that grated on his nerves so much.
Squall violently signed his name across the bottom of the paper and looked up. "The mayor invoked the Grounds and Location Law," he said briefly.
Understanding flickered across Quistis' face. "Has something else happened?" she asked, to which Squall simply handed her the completed form.
"A raid on the mayor's house? Security cameras blacked... toilet paper stolen?" She paused, and then read slowly: "Incident with hair dye?" Quistis turned to Squall, holding out the piece of paper. "With all due respect, sir, I have more important things to do with my time," she said coldly.
"So do I," Squall returned, more sharply than he’d intended. "But Regulation 42A trumps my personal desires - and yours. I'm assigning you and Zell to appease the mayor. Do an investigation and see if you can at least come up with something."
Quistis looked as if she had a million things to say in return, but before she could get any of them out, the door swung open and Zell flew into the room.
"What's up, Squally-o?" he greeted the stone-faced Commander. Squall silently gestured to Quistis, who just as silently handed Zell the form.
He read it over slowly. "More bandits? Man, I was thinkin' of going to town anyway and checkin' on Ma..." He stopped, squinting as he re-read one particular section. "Hair dye?" He chuckled. "Shit, that's hilarious. Who are these guys?" He read on. "And why do they need so much toilet paper?"
"Can you leave in twenty minutes?" Quistis asked, her voice tight with annoyance.
"Sure thing," Zell replied with a grin. "Let's go stick it to 'em!"
Quistis didn't reply; she gave Squall one last look and then turned on her heel, almost marching out of the office.
.x.x.x.
"Aww, Quisty, stop getting in such a twisty!"
That was around the moment that Quistis decided to prioritize not volunteering for any future missions with Zell ever again. She slammed the door of the car with unnecessary force and tried not to glare at the bouncing blonde across from her. "How clever. Did you spend the entire trip here coming up with that one?"
Zell shot her a careless grin. "Actually, I spent the entire time wonderin' whether or not to talk to you. You had that look on your face the entire way here. Y'know, that Instructor's about to hand out detention again look."
Quistis frowned and made her way briskly down the sidewalk; Zell had to jog to catch up with her.
"Hey! Wait up!" he yelled. He pulled in front of her and crossed his arms, quickly jumping into her path when she attempted to neatly step around him. "C'mon, just a quick stop, that's all we gotta do!"
Sighing, Quistis brought her hand to her forehead and quickly dropped it when she realized that she was copying Squall's annoyed-tick tell. "Zell. When I'm leading a mission, you'll refer to me by my full name. And might I also remind you that SeeDs on active duty do not take breaks to visit their mothers."
"Not even five minutes?" Quistis pushed him out of her way and continued down the sidewalk, and Zell frowned and bounced on his heels. He liked to keep loose and moving when faced with conflict; getting rid of all that nervous energy helped him think. It didn't seem to be beneficial for Quistis, however; from the look on her face, she was only minutes away from using her whip to tie him down and drag him behind her.
"Active duty? C'mon, even I know this ain't nothing but a cover job Squall sent us on to make good with the mayor." He ignored Quistis as she hunched over visibly and pressed onwards. "Besides, there aren't any other cadets around to hear, Quisty!" Zell protested. He coughed as Quistis sent him a stare so frigid that he was sure he felt the ends of his hair frosting over. "Fine, Quistis," he hedged. "But what's the problem with a little visit? We're already here, and we gotta pass by Ma's house anyway. Hey, I'll bet she'll have cookies, too!" Cheered by the thought, he hopped and pumped a fist into the air.
Quistis' grip around the handle of her whip tightened, and she resisted the urge to grab Zell by the shoulders and shake him like a limp rag doll. How he managed to press her buttons so quickly when they hadn't even gotten one block past the fill station was a mystery to her.
"Zell," she tried, and noted with a small touch of pride that she had managed to keep her voice professionally calm. "We have an appointment with Mayor Daggett in ten minutes. It will take us ten minutes to arrive at his house. We don't have time for this nonsense." Zell muttered something unintelligible under his breath and she rolled her eyes. "I heard that," Quistis told him, though technically speaking she hadn't. It was her standing policy to always put a little fear into her subordinates on a mission. Unfortunately, Zell didn't see himself as one of her subordinates, especially not when they were on a mission in his hometown.
"Fine," Zell replied, sulking as he trailed behind her. "Sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back, right?"
Quistis smiled grimly. "For once, I think we're on the same wavelength," she admitted. She slowed her gait slightly as they passed Ma Dincht's house, and her conscience twitched irritatingly. "You can visit your mom for lunch after we've spoken with the mayor," she relented. "But only for half an hour. And no!" she added quickly as she saw Zell opening his mouth. "I am not coming with you. I want to check out the Balamb Bounty and see if I can find some clues about those bandits this afternoon."
"Yeah!" Zell cheered, this time leaping up and skipping in front of her, doing a gratuitous handspring down the sidewalk. Then he turned and gave her broad smile. "You want me to bring you some cookies?"
Quistis sighed and shook her head, a slight smile playing across her face. "You're always going to be an eternal kid, aren't you? Cookies will be fine," she laughed. The smile dropped from her face when she noticed Zell had stopped bouncing. Something was unusual about him; with a shock, she realized that he looked like he was thinking. "Is something wrong?" she asked cautiously.
Zell, who until that moment had been bursting with his usual good cheer, was feeling unexpectedly deflated by Quistis' comment. It was actually one of her more honest sentiments and not meant as an insult; mostly he could tell because she rarely let her scathing commentary be diffused by a smirk, much less a genuine smile. The only problem was that kids didn't become SeeD instructors. Kids didn't get taken seriously by adults. Kids didn't end up on dating cute library girls with pigtails. Quistis was the epitome of adulthood, even if her age was still doing a poor job of trying to catch up with her attitude. The thought of having to dry himself out like she did in order to win an Instructor's position took the bounce out of his step.
"Zell!" Quistis' tone had changed from understanding to strict in the blink of an eye; she snapped her fingers in front of his face with a stern expression. "We're still on duty right now. Pull yourself together."
Scowling, Zell rubbed the back of his head and trailed after her. "You're enough adult for the both of us," he grumbled to himself.
.x.x.x.
"Hey, that looks like trouble, ya know?" Raijin squinted at the two SeeDs who were approaching the gate of the mayor's mansion. "Maybe we should wait 'till they're gone before we do this," he said uncertainly.
Seifer grinned fiercely, lowering his newly stolen binoculars. "Are you kidding? Now's the perfect time to strike." Seifer grinned broadly, gesturing. "The Chicken Wuss and the Instructor, here at the same time. Hyne must love me," he cackled.
"DIFFICULT," Fujin countered, sharing an uneasy look with Raijin. They still remembered being beaten by their former peers, even if Seifer was suffering from short-term memory loss.
Seifer whirled around and glared at them. "You wouldn’t chicken out on me now, would you?" he growled.
Raijin winced. "But they wiped the floor with us last time, remember? Twice!"
"PAIN," Fujin added succinctly.
Seifer shook his head. "There's only two of them and three of us. We can take 'em." Seeing his two friends exchange uncertain looks, he stood up and strode past them, heading back towards the hut. "We're a team, remember? This time, we stick together. Besides..." A slow smile stretched out over his face. "Who said we're gonna have to fight 'em?"
.x.x.x.
"Thank you for seeing us, sir," Quistis said respectfully, carefully balancing the cup of steaming tea on her lap.
"This isn't a social visit!" Mayor Daggett blustered. "You were hired to do a job. Balamb won't allow itself to be oppressed by terrorists! We shouldn't have to be, with your Garden at our doorstep!"
"Terrorists?" Zell snorted, unsuccessfully trying to hide the smile from his face. "Toilet paper terrorists, maybe..." he muttered.
Unfortunately, the mayor heard his comment all too clearly; his face was in the process of turning an interesting shade of purple. Quistis clutched her teacup with white knuckles and silently slapped her forehead. There was a reason Zell was terrible at Triple Triad. He didn't even understand the concept of a poker face, let alone have one. Taking a calming sip of her tea, she tried to salvage the situation before it could get any worse.
"I assure you, Mayor Daggett, Garden takes your request very seriously. We will be resolving this situation with the utmost speed and efficiency. The safety and well-being of all citizens of Balamb is one of our primary concerns." Quistis managed to silence any further outbursts from Zell with a glare, though he still choked noisily on his tea. Still, it seemed that she had managed to soothe away the pulsing vein in Daggett's forehead for the moment.
"Very good," he replied, folding his hands behind his back and turning away. "We'll assist you in any way that we can, of course. These despicable hooligans must be found as soon as possible!"
"I'd like to speak to the witness, if I may," Quistis said, placing her teacup on the low table and standing up.
The mayor frowned and rubbed his chin. "I'm not sure that my wife is ready for this kind of emotional stress at the moment..."
Quistis sighed and tried to soothe away the pulsing vein on her own forehead before it could give her away. "Sir, she might be withholding crucial evidence concerning this case."
The mayor's face quickly began to flush once more. "Are you implying that my wife is a liar?" he thundered.
"Whoa, whoa!" Zell yelled, slopping his tea onto the expensive-looking carpet in the sitting room as he hastily placed his cup on the table. "Look, man! We don't mean to be rude an' all, but we gotta know everythin’ we can about these guys. Who knows what they'll hit next! I got family here too, you know."
The swelling in the mayor's cheeks subsided slightly, and he gave the two SeeDs a curt nod. "Fine. Since you genuinely seem to have a vested interest in solving this, I'll let you speak with her. But I'm warning you both - you're skating on thin ice!"
"We understand, sir," Quistis said quickly. "Our interview will be conducted with both speed and discretion. Your wife is in good hands," she offered with a tight smile.
"Fine," Daggett huffed, reaching for the door. "Wait here, I'll bring her in."
As soon as they were alone, Quistis let out a sigh of relief and sagged slightly.
"You can thank me for that save later!" Zell told her, giving her a friendly slap on the back.
Quistis turned and gave Zell a not-so-friendly sock in the arm that had him wincing and scooting backwards quickly.
"Oww! Why'd you do that?"
"We wouldn't have needed a quick save if you hadn't botched it up in the first place, Zell!" Quistis hissed between her teeth. "Try to remember that we're dealing with our current employer before you open your mouth next time!"
Zell shook his head in disbelief. "Stop bein' so uptight, Quistis! Everything worked out fine so far, didn't it?"
"By some miracle of chance, yes," Quistis replied dryly. "Now, please be quiet and let me handle this."
The mayor appeared in the doorway, tugging on the arm of someone who appeared to be whimpering slightly and fighting back.
"Come on in, Emillia, the SeeDs want to talk to you."
"I am not seeing anyone!" The new voice was shrill and somewhat panicky.
Quistis sighed inwardly, wishing that someone with actual interpersonal skills had been sent on this mission with her. Where were Irvine and Selphie when an Instructor needed them? "Mrs. Daggett," she said, trying to turn her voice from cold into calm and kind, "we only need to ask you a few questions."
There was a loud, dramatic, aggravated sigh, and then some sniffles. "Fine, I suppose," the voice replied, and Emillia Daggett walked into the room.
Quistis tried very hard not to stare. Mrs. Daggett had her hair wrapped up in a very tall bundle of assorted towels, blankets, and what appeared to be a hearthrug. Her face was covered with what Quistis could only assume was meant to be a veil, but seeing as that scarf was only somewhat transparent, it acted more as a blindfold. Mrs. Daggett stumbled on a footstool and let out an alarmed "Oop!", at which her obedient husband rushed around the corner, taking her arm and settling her into a chair.
Zell snorted. Quistis threw a glare over her shoulder with as much of Shiva's chill as she could muster: keep your mouth shut and your eyes closed, Zell.
"Thank you, Mrs. Daggett," Quistis began, trying to make her voice sound soothing; to her, it sounded more like she was mildly intoxicated, but as long as the woman remained calm, maybe they'd get some answers. "Can you explain to us exactly what happened?"
"Th-this morning," Mrs. Daggett said, her voice thick with tears, "the alarm had gone off, and Dustin had gone downstairs to check on it. I - I couldn't sleep, so I went to take a shower. We - we've got this f-fancy new water closet, Dustin built it for me, it's in its own separate little clubhouse, outside." She paused, drawing in a ragged breath. "And when I came inside he was still fooling with th-the alarm, so I went upstairs, and -"
She let out a hysterical little whimper. "Those bandits must have been in my bathhouse! My hair - oh, the thought of it makes me sick."
"Can we see it?" Zell blurted out, and Quistis cringed as Mrs. Daggett flinched in horror and began sniffling again.
"Oh, oh no, I don't think that's a good idea," the mayor said, his expression darkening. Quistis sighed, adding another mental tally to the list of reasons to never work with Zell again, and stepped in, trying to save the situation.
"We may need to take a small lock of the hair for evidence," she said, formulating a story as she went and plotting in the back of her head the million ways she'd get back at Zell Dincht for opening his big mouth. "We can maybe run some tests, figure out where they got the... dye... from. It might help us." Damn you, Zell, and damn Squall while you're at it.
"Go ahead, honey," Daggett said, smiling encouragingly at her. "It's okay."
Emillia Daggett sniffled, but slowly and dramatically reached up, ceremoniously unwinding the many towels and assorted fabrics wrapped around her head. One by one, they landed on the floor in a pile in front of her. Finally, with a dramatic sniff and a flourish, she whirled the last one off of her head and angrily dropped it onto the floor.
"Holy shit," said Zell.
Mrs. Daggett's eyes flooded with tears; she let out a high-pitched wail as she shot up from her seat and flew out of the room. The mayor gave them one good solid look, expressing his extreme disappointment and annoyance, and then left, following his shrieking wife.
.x.x.x.
Dinnertime had settled over Balamb Town: citizens were leaving their jobs, meeting up for dinner or a jog; and near the mayor's house, a clump of bushes was whispering loudly.
"Look, I didn't -"
"Shut up."
"She was totally over-reacting, that wasn't my -"
"Zell, shut up before I Silence you," Quistis hissed, obviously not amused.
Zell glared at her and stuck his tongue out, then sent a furtive glance at his watch before adjusting his stance in the bushes.
"Focus on the mission, Zell," Quistis whispered firmly.
"What mission?"
"The appease-the-mayor's-wife mission, in which we have to guard the house overnight," Quistis shot back primly. "Thanks, by the way."
Zell huffed angrily. "There's no need to sit here with a stick up your ass!"
Quistis turned away, silently, continuing her surveillance.
.x.x.x.
"Ready?" Seifer whispered.
Raijin met his glance and gave him a thumbs-up, while Fujin replied with a firm nod.
Seifer adjusted his grip on the toilet paper and then grinned. "Let's go!"
The three friends erupted from their hiding place behind the bathhouse, each trailing streams of toilet paper behind them. Fujin went directly for the mayor's prized flower-garden, while Raijin and Seifer, both taller, got to work on the trees lining the driveway.
Wait for it, Seifer thought. Wait for it.
He wasn't disappointed. A figure burst out of a nearby clump of bushes, tackling Fujin almost immediately. Another form was wrestling its way out of the foliage, and Seifer could clearly hear it shouting angrily, "Zell, get back here!"
Perfect, Seifer thought. I knew they'd still be here.
"Go!" Seifer called, and Raijin dropped his toilet paper, assuming his familiar casting stance. The Blind spell hit Zell directly. Fujin slipped away, cat-like, while Zell writhed on the ground. Raijin aimed a Silence spell at Quistis, and Seifer paused - this would only work if Quistis hadn't Junctioned against it, and betting against Quistis' Junctioning skills was a bad bet indeed -
But the spell sank in, and suddenly, Quistis was standing still, mouthing words dumbly that probably were not fit for public company.
Sweet, Seifer thought, and darted behind the nearby bathhouse. Quistis was shaking Zell, trying to get him upright without a voice.
"Quisty? Is that you? What the hell is goin' on?"
Quistis, infuriated, grabbed Zell's hand and put it to her throat.
"You're silenced? Shit, Quisty, I don't have anything on me - I can't see, dammit, where'd they go?"
At this, Seifer gave a wave, and the three friends launched themselves out of the bushes, hooting. He took off for the public square, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Quistis had seen him. She was dragging Zell to his feet, attempting to propel the blind man along in the general direction the three bandits had run; she froze when they made eye contact. Even without a voice, her expression was loud and clear.
You are a dead man.
Seifer stopped long enough to grin and give her an exaggerated courtly bow, complete with wide smirk, before sprinting after his companions.
"Quistis! C'mon, don't you even have a potion or something?" Zell yelled, grabbing onto her arm clumsily.
Wordlessly, Quistis unhooked the whip from her belt and shoved it into Zell's hand, wrapping his fingers forcefully around the handle. Grabbing the other end, she set off at a run, dragging him stumbling and cursing behind her. She pulled up short when they entered Balamb's large town square; Seifer had stopped directly in the center, and both Raijin and Fujin stood behind him, cutting imposing figures in the moonlight. Lips parting in a soundless growl, Quistis reached for her whip to snap it ferociously -
"Whoa!" Zell went sliding in an undignified heap across the cobblestone, yanked off balance by how suddenly she had pulled the whip out from underneath his grasp. He quickly rolled to his feet and dropped into a fighting crouch, spinning and flailing his arms wildly through the air. He had actually landed right at Seifer's feet, who was clearly having a good time easily dodging Zell's wild swings and grinning maniacally. "Shit! I can't see anything! Who were they, Quisty?"
Seifer let out a low, barking laugh, and Zell stiffened.
"Aww, man, don't tell me -" he groaned.
"In the flesh, Chicken Wuss," Seifer replied, cracking his knuckles. "I think it's time for some payback!"
Quistis' eyes narrowed. Payback my ass, she clearly broadcasted as she whirled her whip around in an impressive twirl over her head and snapped it at Seifer's (and Zell's) feet.
"Oh, you brought your whip with you, Instructor!" Seifer leered, his eyes lighting with delight. "Good, you're gonna need it. Guys?"
Raijin and Fujin smiled as they simultaneously lifted their hands; a look of horror crossed Quistis' face, and a loud "Huh?" was the last coherent word Zell managed to speak. The Confuse spell hit Quistis at the same time that the Berserk spell took root in Zell; it was just long enough for the Balamb Bandits to make their grand escape, laughing loudly as the destruction only two fully trained A-rank SeeDs could orchestrate broke loose.
Browse all chapters: || LJ Memories || LJ Chapter Summary || fanfiction.net ||
Chapter Two: In Which A Third Blond Enters The Scene
Authors: first_seventhe and rosencrantz
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters/Pairings included: Quistis, Zell, Seifer, Cast (eventual Quistis/Zell)
Rating: M / R (Profanity, eventual mature situations)
Summary: Quistis is looking for another promotion. Zell is looking for some action with that cute library girl. And Seifer? He’s just looking for trouble.
Read it at fanfiction.net here.
Chapter 2: In Which A Third Blond Enters The Scene (and Expresses Frustration)
"Seifer."
The voice was unusually low-pitched, so Seifer chose to ignore it. He was currently crouched in some really pointy bushes, eyeing the Balamb fill station, and doing his best to be quiet.
"Seifer."
He shook his head, as if trying to scare away some annoying insect. Couldn't they see he was trying to concentrate?
"IDIOT."
He turned around to hiss at Fujin. "Can't you see I'm working here?"
Fujin pointed, her pale hair and fair skin looking eerie in the darkness. "Empty," she whispered forcefully. "Wasting time."
"No one's been around there for an hour, ya know?" A loud rustling in the bushes alerted him to Raijin's large presence. "So we can’t buy anythin’ anyway. What the hell are ya waitin' for?"
Seifer rolled his eyes in a grand display of irritation. "We're breaking in, stupid." He glanced back at the convenience store, tucked up snugly beside the fill station and almost gleaming with promise. "If you two are so sure that it's empty, then yeah, let's go."
Fujin was eyeing him with that cold calculating glare that always made him feel a little nauseous. "EXPLAIN," she said, her voice rising back to normal tone.
Seifer sighed, exasperated. "I'm sick of eating the stupid fish we catch off that stupid dock. I want some real honest-to-Hyne cigarettes. I want beef jerky. And I want some goddamn toilet paper." Raijin snickered, and Seifer whirled on him in the darkness. "And don't laugh, because I’ve seen you scratching your ass when you think no one's looking, Raijin. I'm absolutely sick of living in that crap little shack without a fuckin' toilet!"
Raijin's blush was almost palpable through the leaves as Fujin muttered: "MEN. IDIOTS."
"So," Seifer continued smugly. "We're going to help ourselves from that little convenience store, right over there."
Fujin narrowed her one remaining eye and asked plainly, "JOB?"
Seifer shrugged it off. "As if anyone would hire me now," he said. "I'm lucky they let me hang around this lovely town."
"We could get jobs," Raijin offered.
Seifer shrugged again. "What's the point?" He shifted in the bushes, attempting to get comfortable. "They'll figure out you're with me, and then zip!"
There was a moment of silence while Fujin and Raijin looked at each other. Seifer started to get antsy. "It's just a convenience store," he said finally. "And I'll go myself if you don't go with me."
Fujin, surprisingly, was the first to nod. "GO," she whispered.
Seifer went, slipping across the dimly lit yard to the store's back door, fumbling with the lock briefly before glancing over his shoulder and then hissing a low potency fire spell. The doorknob fused and then melted (the wood around it charring slightly), and Seifer rammed his shoulder into it, and it opened.
"Yes."
The store was a veritable treasure trove of goodies. Seifer made a beeline over to the snack rack, pocketing every bag of teriyaki beef jerky he could find (and one bag of cheese curls he decided to hide from Fujin). He watched Raijin snag a jumbo-sized bag of pork rinds - reinforcing his faith in the man's intelligence - and smirked as Fujin herself stocked up on Choco-Chocobo Bars and a bag of tortilla chips.
Seifer then snuck behind the counter, deftly selecting three packs of Malboros (named after that filthy great monster) and four packs of Chimera Strikes (only slightly less nasty). Those went in the other pocket of his coat - the one not stuffed with jerky - and left him one remaining inside pocket, and anything he could carry in his arms. Turning to his left, he spotted the little rack of behind-the-counter medications: glancing quickly over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, he quickly nabbed a little tube of soothing crème and slipped it into his pocket. A couple of Remedies followed it because, hey, those were always useful.
"DONE?" Fujin's rough voice carried through the store, and Seifer shook his head.
"Here," he hissed, approaching the shelf with toilet paper: one six-pack flew through the air towards Raijin's head, another following shortly after in Fujin's direction. Seifer hoisted a third pack on his shoulder and made for the door. As he passed the register he paused, grabbing a couple foil packs of Triple Triad cards - they'd all be shit cards, but it would at least give the trio something to do when they weren't fishing.
Raijin glanced over at the register. "’Ey, Seifer, shouldn't we grab a little of that cash?"
Seifer shook his head violently. "No way. We're not petty thieves."
Fujin gave him a once-over, her eyes pointedly resting on the jerky, and then met his gaze challengingly. Seifer glared back.
"We're above that, you guys. Stuff is just stuff. Taking somebody's money - we don't need to stoop to that." He shifted the pack of toilet paper, grumbling. "I don't need money. Just a little help."
Raijin grinned back at him. "Yeah, you're right," he said. "We don't need money." Seifer smirked.
As they left the store triumphantly, Seifer paused at the door, scratching a very cheeky "Thanks, suckers!" into the charred wood with a penknife he'd picked up off the counter.
They swiftly headed back to the small shack they'd been using; Fujin had found it one day while looking for Seifer, and they'd been able to fix up the roof of the little cabin enough that it made a decent place to sleep, hang out, and smoke fish. It had probably been some Balamb fisherman's storage unit at some point; the corners were filled with a variety of useless knickknacks, and there was a strangely foreboding cellar none of the trio wanted to enter (though Seifer had scoped it out momentarily, searching for alcohol). They'd pilfered enough towels and blankets from clotheslines to make the place at least livable, if not likeable.
Seifer was somewhat grateful that the citizens of Balamb were either kind enough or dumb enough to look the other way on the days he decided wilderness living was for chumps and came to the pier to fish. He wasn't entirely sure what his status was with Balamb, or Garden, or the rest of the world for that matter - but he didn't really care, either. The Posse had stuck with him, and for now he was surviving.
They tossed their goods onto the floor. Raijin immediately took off for the woods, bearing a familiar-looking tube of crème in his hand; Fujin snickered as she began to stack bags of junk food in a very crumbly-looking cabinet. Seifer triumphantly unwrapped a pack of Malboros, almost tingling in anticipation, and -
"Fujin," he barked, "got a light?"
She shook her head, pointing instead at the little embankment they used to cook their dinners. "FIRE?"
Seifer grinned, calling up another low-level fire spell, igniting the dry wood instantly. "Oh baby, I missed you," he crooned to the precious cancer stick as he held it out towards the cheerfully crackling fire.
WHOOSH!
Cursing and shaking out his fingers, Seifer blew the charred remains of the cigarette away. "Shit," he mumbled, fumbling for another and drawing it out of the pack. This time he approached the fire more carefully, eyes narrowing in concentration as he cautiously edged his fingers towards the flame -
WHOOSH!
After the fifth cigarette burned to ash, he stood up. "Fuck," he said plainly. "I need matches."
.x.x.x.
Quistis looked over the newspaper's morning headline and furrowed her brow. Balamb seemed like such a quiet, peaceful town; petty thievery and vandalism had never been a problem before.
"Probably just some kids making trouble," she assured herself, folding the paper away only to be greeted by Selphie's wide grin.
"Hey, Quisty, got a minute?" she asked a little too innocently.
"No," Quistis replied immediately, grabbing her coffee and beating a hasty retreat from the
Cafeteria.
.x.x.x.
"You sure about this, boss?" Raijin said uncertainly.
"Have I ever steered you wrong?" Seifer asked with a cocky grin.
"YES," Fujin replied without hesitation. She had been snapping at them for days after discovering the empty, crumpled bag of what had once been cheese curls hidden on the lowest shelf of their makeshift pantry. Something had to be done before the delicate balance of their Posse was disrupted, and as a responsible leader, Seifer took it upon himself to give the crew a new mission. That he would be the only one actually reaping a benefit from that night's little excursion was, of course, purely coincidental. His only problem was that the team spirit still seemed to be lacking.
"But I really like the fish sticks here," Raijin complained.
"DOUBLE CHOCOLATE MOUSSE," Fujin added.
Seifer grimaced and turned his attention back towards the darkened restaurant. "Since when was the last time you guys could afford eating at the Balamb Bounty, huh?" he growled. "Besides, we're not here for the food. All I need is a couple of goddamn matches!"
Fujin rolled her eyes. "STUPID," she said bluntly.
"Well, it’s not exactly my fault that they put cameras up at the fill station!" Seifer grumbled. Noticing the two staring at him, he shrugged and gave them a broad smirk. "It's OUR fault. We're a Posse, aren't we? We stick together through thick and thin! Now are we doing this or not?"
Raijin looked at the ground shamefacedly and rubbed the back of his head. "They do really great tartar sauce, too, ya..."
Seifer could tell he was losing them. Drastic times called for drastic measures. "Come on, guys, think about it. We've been living like bandits for months already. Nobody gives a shit about us. We're nothing to these people. Face it - no one's gonna help us outta this one." He glared at both of his friends until their gazes dropped, each hearing the truth in his assessment.
"But we haven't lost it all. We still got each other, and we still got our pride." He noted with pleasure that both Raijin and Fujin had looked up at his words with something like the beginning of hope. "So what if we got it tough? If we want something, all we gotta do is help ourselves. And helpin' ourselves is what the Balamb Bandits do best. Are you with me?"
"Ya!" Raijin said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Nobody's gonna keep us from havin' pickles and tartar sauce with our fish!"
Fujin's eye was glowing with an almost unholy light. "DOUBLE CHOCOLATE MOUSSE," she stated again firmly.
"That's the spirit!" Seifer grinned, though he did shift uneasily as Raijin and Fujin started twitching and salivating visibly. "Let's move."
Stealthily they crept towards the back door of the restaurant; after a few hushed curses and unsatisfactory attempts to crack the lock on the service door, Raijin pushed Seifer aside and simply booted the rickety door open before storming in. It led directly into the kitchen, and they wasted no time in plundering the restaurant of its goods. Raijin was busily stuffing condiments into his pockets, while Fujin gravitated straight towards the huge wall-sized refrigerator that housed the perishable goods.
Noting their work with a pleased nod, Seifer left his two minions to their own devices as he crept into the dining room. Finding the small bowl of complimentary matches near the bar was no problem at all; he took the time to seat himself on one of the benches, light the cigarette he had brought along and savor it with a long, slow puff. He took another drag before opening his eyes again and surveying his surroundings.
The Balamb Bounty was the most popular restaurant in the small fishing town; while not necessarily a five-star establishment like that Felicia’s on the Wharf, it was certainly more than a few steps above the cheap fried food they dished out at Wendigo's or Behemoth King. It was also one of the favorite local hangouts of Balamb Garden's denizens. There was even one of the navy blue SeeD cadet uniforms framed and hanging from the wall. "Huh," Seifer said, squinting at it. Something was strangely familiar about it, and he leaned in closer to have a look at the plaque.
"Authentic Cadet Uniform of the legendary SeeD Zell Dincht, Hero of Balamb"
There was even a tiny autographed photo of Zell tucked into the corner of the frame, smiling obnoxiously and giving the camera a thumbs-up. Seifer removed the cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it out between photo-Zell's eyes.
"Hero of Balamb my ass," Seifer growled to himself. Feeling restless, he moved himself behind the bar and began to pace its length, pausing to slip one of the bottles of whisky into a waiting pocket. "I bet that Chicken Wuss doesn't even eat here," he complained to himself, stopping in front of the chalked-in menu behind the bar. The specials for the next day had already been noted down.
Grilled Fastitocalon with Pickles and Tartar Sauce - 11 gil
Steamed Adamantoise in Garlic Butter - 18 gil
Double Chocolate Mousse - 6 gil
Ask about our soup of the day!
It was a nice menu, with carefully-chalked in drawings of smiling fish eagerly urging customers to try out their tasty real-life brethren. The whole thing was cheerfully tacky in that special way that was unique to Balamb. And it was all being blessed by the Patron Saint of Balamb Tackiness, Zell Dincht.
Seifer smirked to himself and picked up the piece of chalk resting on the string tied to the board. "Well, well," he grinned thoughtfully. "If they like Dincht so much, they should give him a menu he'd appreciate." And with that, he began to write.
Grilled Chicken A La Wuss (No Pickles, Suckers!) - 5 gil (not worth much)
Seifer snickered. He smudged out the next line of the menu with his sleeve, and wrote over it in messy script.
Hot Dogs! Garden Special! Definitely Including Grade-B Bite Bug Gizzards! - 2 gil
He paused, making a disgusted face as the reminiscent taste of Garden's nasty hot dogs filled his mouth. That Cafeteria had been so gross. He was glad to be eating jerky, honestly. In fact, it would be only fitting for the Balamb Bounty to be serving a meal in honor of Garden Cafeteria's best cooking, he thought, smirking as he wrote:
Zell Dincht's Famous Onion n' Garlic Adamantoise Mega Pancakes with Apple and Fish Chunks, Tofu-Bacon-Maple Syrup and a Honey-Mustard Cheese filling - 50 gil
That sounded suitably disgusting, Seifer decided cheerfully, wondering how many of those simpering idiots in Balamb would order it just because it had Dincht's name on it. Stupid suck-ups. The thought prompted him to add one line below it; this time he took his time with his handwriting, scrawling carefully:
Get yourself Kiss-Ass Sauce for free -
Courtesy of the Balamb Bandits
An undignified snort from behind alerted him; Raijin was smirking. Fujin leant forward, grabbing the chalk and writing underneath in her own strict capitals:
P.S. THANKS FOR THE MOUSSE.
.x.x.x.
Zell slowed down and grabbed the wildly swinging punching bag, wiping some sweat from his brow. He frowned as he listened to the radio report; the Balamb vandals were getting bolder.
"Maybe I should visit Ma when I have some leave and see if she's alright."
Cheered at the thought of having a brief vacation from his Garden duties, he turned back to his punching bag - and spotted the wrinkled application form lying on his bed, covered with his pitiful attempts to answer the questions.
"Dammit," he grunted, whirling around and sending another fist flying into the bag.
.x.x.x.
"Yes, sir."
Squall held the phone slightly away from his ear; the shrieking babble would've been audible from a mile away. The male voice at the other end was attempting to speak calmly over what sounded like an angry harpy in the background. Squall winced as the woman reached a particularly high note, causing the glass on his desk to shudder slightly.
"I understand, sir. We'll be on it right away."
Once the phone call was over, Squall allowed himself a short muffled stream of curse words under his breath. Ever since the reports on the Balamb Bandits had begun making the paper, he'd had the sneaking suspicion that - despite his best efforts to avoid it all - Garden would eventually be drawn into the mess. And he'd been right. The Bandits had apparently raided the mayor's house last night, completely rewiring his security system. And from what Squall could translate from the shrieking in the background, it seemed they'd also somehow turned the mayor's wife's hair bright green.
The mayor, incensed, had invoked Garden Regulation 42A's sub clause - known as the Grounds and Location Law - which stated that Balamb Garden, in payment for its location on Balamb Island, was obligated to come to the aid of Balamb citizens in the case of an emergency and at a steep discount. Squall had tried to argue that a small and insignificant (if somewhat annoying) pack of teenaged bandits didn't constitute an emergency.
The mayor's wife, screaming something about green hair, had refused to listen. It was moments like this which made Squall resent his current position as Commander and think idly about things like gunblades and resigning.
Squall muttered to himself as he opened the top drawer, pulling out the familiar Garden Funds and Manpower Allocation Request and Requisition Form. He fumbled through the papers on his desk angrily, searching for a pen that wasn't bright pink and didn't write in glitter (Rinoa had given him those as a gift). Finally his fingers closed around a simple black ballpoint. Squall paused, trying to quell the sense of annoyance growing in his brain long enough to come up with a rational plan.
He'd order a brief investigation of the crime scenes and see whether there were any obvious clues as to who as behind it. And then he'd order a nightly patrol of the town - this would be an excellent job for younger cadets in line for their SeeD qualification test, he decided, writing that down in the appropriate spot. He'd have to send some high caliber SeeDs for the investigation, though, to appease the mayor and his loud-mouthed wife.
Squall turned to face his computer, calling up the database which contained the dynamically updated schedules of all highly-ranked SeeDs - his friends. It was the one useful thing Rinoa had done in his office, although she was always scolding him for using it for work-related purposes rather than to schedule 'fun lunches out' or 'happy hours' or some other harebrained idea. He scanned it over. Quistis was in, which wasn't a big surprise; she'd been in late every day for the past two weeks. Selphie and Irvine were both out - again, not a big surprise. But Zell was in, and active. Squall scanned Zell's schedule briefly; Zell had nothing marked, so why he was even active was a mystery, but at this point Squall didn't care.
He hit the button on his phone to page Sasha, the young cadet from the library who served as his secretary on Mondays and Wednesdays. His door swung open, revealing a cheerful face framed in bright red hair and brushed with freckles.
"Good morning, Commander. What can I do for you?"
"Have Instructor Quistis Trepe and active SeeD Zell Dincht report to my office immediately," he ordered; and then, remembering another scolding from Rinoa, added lamely, "please."
"Sure thing!" the girl chirped, closing the door behind her. Squall turned back to the request form, thinking very angry thoughts about the mayor of Balamb and his misfortuned wife.
The form was almost completed by the time the door opened again; Quistis stepped in, closing it carefully behind her. "Good morning, Squall," she said, a little hesitantly. "Is something going on?"
"Quistis," he said without even looking up, "I need you to go into Balamb and investigate these bandits we've been getting reports on."
"Hadn't we decided that Garden was going to ignore the bandits?" Quistis asked in that teacher-voice that grated on his nerves so much.
Squall violently signed his name across the bottom of the paper and looked up. "The mayor invoked the Grounds and Location Law," he said briefly.
Understanding flickered across Quistis' face. "Has something else happened?" she asked, to which Squall simply handed her the completed form.
"A raid on the mayor's house? Security cameras blacked... toilet paper stolen?" She paused, and then read slowly: "Incident with hair dye?" Quistis turned to Squall, holding out the piece of paper. "With all due respect, sir, I have more important things to do with my time," she said coldly.
"So do I," Squall returned, more sharply than he’d intended. "But Regulation 42A trumps my personal desires - and yours. I'm assigning you and Zell to appease the mayor. Do an investigation and see if you can at least come up with something."
Quistis looked as if she had a million things to say in return, but before she could get any of them out, the door swung open and Zell flew into the room.
"What's up, Squally-o?" he greeted the stone-faced Commander. Squall silently gestured to Quistis, who just as silently handed Zell the form.
He read it over slowly. "More bandits? Man, I was thinkin' of going to town anyway and checkin' on Ma..." He stopped, squinting as he re-read one particular section. "Hair dye?" He chuckled. "Shit, that's hilarious. Who are these guys?" He read on. "And why do they need so much toilet paper?"
"Can you leave in twenty minutes?" Quistis asked, her voice tight with annoyance.
"Sure thing," Zell replied with a grin. "Let's go stick it to 'em!"
Quistis didn't reply; she gave Squall one last look and then turned on her heel, almost marching out of the office.
.x.x.x.
"Aww, Quisty, stop getting in such a twisty!"
That was around the moment that Quistis decided to prioritize not volunteering for any future missions with Zell ever again. She slammed the door of the car with unnecessary force and tried not to glare at the bouncing blonde across from her. "How clever. Did you spend the entire trip here coming up with that one?"
Zell shot her a careless grin. "Actually, I spent the entire time wonderin' whether or not to talk to you. You had that look on your face the entire way here. Y'know, that Instructor's about to hand out detention again look."
Quistis frowned and made her way briskly down the sidewalk; Zell had to jog to catch up with her.
"Hey! Wait up!" he yelled. He pulled in front of her and crossed his arms, quickly jumping into her path when she attempted to neatly step around him. "C'mon, just a quick stop, that's all we gotta do!"
Sighing, Quistis brought her hand to her forehead and quickly dropped it when she realized that she was copying Squall's annoyed-tick tell. "Zell. When I'm leading a mission, you'll refer to me by my full name. And might I also remind you that SeeDs on active duty do not take breaks to visit their mothers."
"Not even five minutes?" Quistis pushed him out of her way and continued down the sidewalk, and Zell frowned and bounced on his heels. He liked to keep loose and moving when faced with conflict; getting rid of all that nervous energy helped him think. It didn't seem to be beneficial for Quistis, however; from the look on her face, she was only minutes away from using her whip to tie him down and drag him behind her.
"Active duty? C'mon, even I know this ain't nothing but a cover job Squall sent us on to make good with the mayor." He ignored Quistis as she hunched over visibly and pressed onwards. "Besides, there aren't any other cadets around to hear, Quisty!" Zell protested. He coughed as Quistis sent him a stare so frigid that he was sure he felt the ends of his hair frosting over. "Fine, Quistis," he hedged. "But what's the problem with a little visit? We're already here, and we gotta pass by Ma's house anyway. Hey, I'll bet she'll have cookies, too!" Cheered by the thought, he hopped and pumped a fist into the air.
Quistis' grip around the handle of her whip tightened, and she resisted the urge to grab Zell by the shoulders and shake him like a limp rag doll. How he managed to press her buttons so quickly when they hadn't even gotten one block past the fill station was a mystery to her.
"Zell," she tried, and noted with a small touch of pride that she had managed to keep her voice professionally calm. "We have an appointment with Mayor Daggett in ten minutes. It will take us ten minutes to arrive at his house. We don't have time for this nonsense." Zell muttered something unintelligible under his breath and she rolled her eyes. "I heard that," Quistis told him, though technically speaking she hadn't. It was her standing policy to always put a little fear into her subordinates on a mission. Unfortunately, Zell didn't see himself as one of her subordinates, especially not when they were on a mission in his hometown.
"Fine," Zell replied, sulking as he trailed behind her. "Sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back, right?"
Quistis smiled grimly. "For once, I think we're on the same wavelength," she admitted. She slowed her gait slightly as they passed Ma Dincht's house, and her conscience twitched irritatingly. "You can visit your mom for lunch after we've spoken with the mayor," she relented. "But only for half an hour. And no!" she added quickly as she saw Zell opening his mouth. "I am not coming with you. I want to check out the Balamb Bounty and see if I can find some clues about those bandits this afternoon."
"Yeah!" Zell cheered, this time leaping up and skipping in front of her, doing a gratuitous handspring down the sidewalk. Then he turned and gave her broad smile. "You want me to bring you some cookies?"
Quistis sighed and shook her head, a slight smile playing across her face. "You're always going to be an eternal kid, aren't you? Cookies will be fine," she laughed. The smile dropped from her face when she noticed Zell had stopped bouncing. Something was unusual about him; with a shock, she realized that he looked like he was thinking. "Is something wrong?" she asked cautiously.
Zell, who until that moment had been bursting with his usual good cheer, was feeling unexpectedly deflated by Quistis' comment. It was actually one of her more honest sentiments and not meant as an insult; mostly he could tell because she rarely let her scathing commentary be diffused by a smirk, much less a genuine smile. The only problem was that kids didn't become SeeD instructors. Kids didn't get taken seriously by adults. Kids didn't end up on dating cute library girls with pigtails. Quistis was the epitome of adulthood, even if her age was still doing a poor job of trying to catch up with her attitude. The thought of having to dry himself out like she did in order to win an Instructor's position took the bounce out of his step.
"Zell!" Quistis' tone had changed from understanding to strict in the blink of an eye; she snapped her fingers in front of his face with a stern expression. "We're still on duty right now. Pull yourself together."
Scowling, Zell rubbed the back of his head and trailed after her. "You're enough adult for the both of us," he grumbled to himself.
.x.x.x.
"Hey, that looks like trouble, ya know?" Raijin squinted at the two SeeDs who were approaching the gate of the mayor's mansion. "Maybe we should wait 'till they're gone before we do this," he said uncertainly.
Seifer grinned fiercely, lowering his newly stolen binoculars. "Are you kidding? Now's the perfect time to strike." Seifer grinned broadly, gesturing. "The Chicken Wuss and the Instructor, here at the same time. Hyne must love me," he cackled.
"DIFFICULT," Fujin countered, sharing an uneasy look with Raijin. They still remembered being beaten by their former peers, even if Seifer was suffering from short-term memory loss.
Seifer whirled around and glared at them. "You wouldn’t chicken out on me now, would you?" he growled.
Raijin winced. "But they wiped the floor with us last time, remember? Twice!"
"PAIN," Fujin added succinctly.
Seifer shook his head. "There's only two of them and three of us. We can take 'em." Seeing his two friends exchange uncertain looks, he stood up and strode past them, heading back towards the hut. "We're a team, remember? This time, we stick together. Besides..." A slow smile stretched out over his face. "Who said we're gonna have to fight 'em?"
.x.x.x.
"Thank you for seeing us, sir," Quistis said respectfully, carefully balancing the cup of steaming tea on her lap.
"This isn't a social visit!" Mayor Daggett blustered. "You were hired to do a job. Balamb won't allow itself to be oppressed by terrorists! We shouldn't have to be, with your Garden at our doorstep!"
"Terrorists?" Zell snorted, unsuccessfully trying to hide the smile from his face. "Toilet paper terrorists, maybe..." he muttered.
Unfortunately, the mayor heard his comment all too clearly; his face was in the process of turning an interesting shade of purple. Quistis clutched her teacup with white knuckles and silently slapped her forehead. There was a reason Zell was terrible at Triple Triad. He didn't even understand the concept of a poker face, let alone have one. Taking a calming sip of her tea, she tried to salvage the situation before it could get any worse.
"I assure you, Mayor Daggett, Garden takes your request very seriously. We will be resolving this situation with the utmost speed and efficiency. The safety and well-being of all citizens of Balamb is one of our primary concerns." Quistis managed to silence any further outbursts from Zell with a glare, though he still choked noisily on his tea. Still, it seemed that she had managed to soothe away the pulsing vein in Daggett's forehead for the moment.
"Very good," he replied, folding his hands behind his back and turning away. "We'll assist you in any way that we can, of course. These despicable hooligans must be found as soon as possible!"
"I'd like to speak to the witness, if I may," Quistis said, placing her teacup on the low table and standing up.
The mayor frowned and rubbed his chin. "I'm not sure that my wife is ready for this kind of emotional stress at the moment..."
Quistis sighed and tried to soothe away the pulsing vein on her own forehead before it could give her away. "Sir, she might be withholding crucial evidence concerning this case."
The mayor's face quickly began to flush once more. "Are you implying that my wife is a liar?" he thundered.
"Whoa, whoa!" Zell yelled, slopping his tea onto the expensive-looking carpet in the sitting room as he hastily placed his cup on the table. "Look, man! We don't mean to be rude an' all, but we gotta know everythin’ we can about these guys. Who knows what they'll hit next! I got family here too, you know."
The swelling in the mayor's cheeks subsided slightly, and he gave the two SeeDs a curt nod. "Fine. Since you genuinely seem to have a vested interest in solving this, I'll let you speak with her. But I'm warning you both - you're skating on thin ice!"
"We understand, sir," Quistis said quickly. "Our interview will be conducted with both speed and discretion. Your wife is in good hands," she offered with a tight smile.
"Fine," Daggett huffed, reaching for the door. "Wait here, I'll bring her in."
As soon as they were alone, Quistis let out a sigh of relief and sagged slightly.
"You can thank me for that save later!" Zell told her, giving her a friendly slap on the back.
Quistis turned and gave Zell a not-so-friendly sock in the arm that had him wincing and scooting backwards quickly.
"Oww! Why'd you do that?"
"We wouldn't have needed a quick save if you hadn't botched it up in the first place, Zell!" Quistis hissed between her teeth. "Try to remember that we're dealing with our current employer before you open your mouth next time!"
Zell shook his head in disbelief. "Stop bein' so uptight, Quistis! Everything worked out fine so far, didn't it?"
"By some miracle of chance, yes," Quistis replied dryly. "Now, please be quiet and let me handle this."
The mayor appeared in the doorway, tugging on the arm of someone who appeared to be whimpering slightly and fighting back.
"Come on in, Emillia, the SeeDs want to talk to you."
"I am not seeing anyone!" The new voice was shrill and somewhat panicky.
Quistis sighed inwardly, wishing that someone with actual interpersonal skills had been sent on this mission with her. Where were Irvine and Selphie when an Instructor needed them? "Mrs. Daggett," she said, trying to turn her voice from cold into calm and kind, "we only need to ask you a few questions."
There was a loud, dramatic, aggravated sigh, and then some sniffles. "Fine, I suppose," the voice replied, and Emillia Daggett walked into the room.
Quistis tried very hard not to stare. Mrs. Daggett had her hair wrapped up in a very tall bundle of assorted towels, blankets, and what appeared to be a hearthrug. Her face was covered with what Quistis could only assume was meant to be a veil, but seeing as that scarf was only somewhat transparent, it acted more as a blindfold. Mrs. Daggett stumbled on a footstool and let out an alarmed "Oop!", at which her obedient husband rushed around the corner, taking her arm and settling her into a chair.
Zell snorted. Quistis threw a glare over her shoulder with as much of Shiva's chill as she could muster: keep your mouth shut and your eyes closed, Zell.
"Thank you, Mrs. Daggett," Quistis began, trying to make her voice sound soothing; to her, it sounded more like she was mildly intoxicated, but as long as the woman remained calm, maybe they'd get some answers. "Can you explain to us exactly what happened?"
"Th-this morning," Mrs. Daggett said, her voice thick with tears, "the alarm had gone off, and Dustin had gone downstairs to check on it. I - I couldn't sleep, so I went to take a shower. We - we've got this f-fancy new water closet, Dustin built it for me, it's in its own separate little clubhouse, outside." She paused, drawing in a ragged breath. "And when I came inside he was still fooling with th-the alarm, so I went upstairs, and -"
She let out a hysterical little whimper. "Those bandits must have been in my bathhouse! My hair - oh, the thought of it makes me sick."
"Can we see it?" Zell blurted out, and Quistis cringed as Mrs. Daggett flinched in horror and began sniffling again.
"Oh, oh no, I don't think that's a good idea," the mayor said, his expression darkening. Quistis sighed, adding another mental tally to the list of reasons to never work with Zell again, and stepped in, trying to save the situation.
"We may need to take a small lock of the hair for evidence," she said, formulating a story as she went and plotting in the back of her head the million ways she'd get back at Zell Dincht for opening his big mouth. "We can maybe run some tests, figure out where they got the... dye... from. It might help us." Damn you, Zell, and damn Squall while you're at it.
"Go ahead, honey," Daggett said, smiling encouragingly at her. "It's okay."
Emillia Daggett sniffled, but slowly and dramatically reached up, ceremoniously unwinding the many towels and assorted fabrics wrapped around her head. One by one, they landed on the floor in a pile in front of her. Finally, with a dramatic sniff and a flourish, she whirled the last one off of her head and angrily dropped it onto the floor.
"Holy shit," said Zell.
Mrs. Daggett's eyes flooded with tears; she let out a high-pitched wail as she shot up from her seat and flew out of the room. The mayor gave them one good solid look, expressing his extreme disappointment and annoyance, and then left, following his shrieking wife.
.x.x.x.
Dinnertime had settled over Balamb Town: citizens were leaving their jobs, meeting up for dinner or a jog; and near the mayor's house, a clump of bushes was whispering loudly.
"Look, I didn't -"
"Shut up."
"She was totally over-reacting, that wasn't my -"
"Zell, shut up before I Silence you," Quistis hissed, obviously not amused.
Zell glared at her and stuck his tongue out, then sent a furtive glance at his watch before adjusting his stance in the bushes.
"Focus on the mission, Zell," Quistis whispered firmly.
"What mission?"
"The appease-the-mayor's-wife mission, in which we have to guard the house overnight," Quistis shot back primly. "Thanks, by the way."
Zell huffed angrily. "There's no need to sit here with a stick up your ass!"
Quistis turned away, silently, continuing her surveillance.
.x.x.x.
"Ready?" Seifer whispered.
Raijin met his glance and gave him a thumbs-up, while Fujin replied with a firm nod.
Seifer adjusted his grip on the toilet paper and then grinned. "Let's go!"
The three friends erupted from their hiding place behind the bathhouse, each trailing streams of toilet paper behind them. Fujin went directly for the mayor's prized flower-garden, while Raijin and Seifer, both taller, got to work on the trees lining the driveway.
Wait for it, Seifer thought. Wait for it.
He wasn't disappointed. A figure burst out of a nearby clump of bushes, tackling Fujin almost immediately. Another form was wrestling its way out of the foliage, and Seifer could clearly hear it shouting angrily, "Zell, get back here!"
Perfect, Seifer thought. I knew they'd still be here.
"Go!" Seifer called, and Raijin dropped his toilet paper, assuming his familiar casting stance. The Blind spell hit Zell directly. Fujin slipped away, cat-like, while Zell writhed on the ground. Raijin aimed a Silence spell at Quistis, and Seifer paused - this would only work if Quistis hadn't Junctioned against it, and betting against Quistis' Junctioning skills was a bad bet indeed -
But the spell sank in, and suddenly, Quistis was standing still, mouthing words dumbly that probably were not fit for public company.
Sweet, Seifer thought, and darted behind the nearby bathhouse. Quistis was shaking Zell, trying to get him upright without a voice.
"Quisty? Is that you? What the hell is goin' on?"
Quistis, infuriated, grabbed Zell's hand and put it to her throat.
"You're silenced? Shit, Quisty, I don't have anything on me - I can't see, dammit, where'd they go?"
At this, Seifer gave a wave, and the three friends launched themselves out of the bushes, hooting. He took off for the public square, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Quistis had seen him. She was dragging Zell to his feet, attempting to propel the blind man along in the general direction the three bandits had run; she froze when they made eye contact. Even without a voice, her expression was loud and clear.
You are a dead man.
Seifer stopped long enough to grin and give her an exaggerated courtly bow, complete with wide smirk, before sprinting after his companions.
"Quistis! C'mon, don't you even have a potion or something?" Zell yelled, grabbing onto her arm clumsily.
Wordlessly, Quistis unhooked the whip from her belt and shoved it into Zell's hand, wrapping his fingers forcefully around the handle. Grabbing the other end, she set off at a run, dragging him stumbling and cursing behind her. She pulled up short when they entered Balamb's large town square; Seifer had stopped directly in the center, and both Raijin and Fujin stood behind him, cutting imposing figures in the moonlight. Lips parting in a soundless growl, Quistis reached for her whip to snap it ferociously -
"Whoa!" Zell went sliding in an undignified heap across the cobblestone, yanked off balance by how suddenly she had pulled the whip out from underneath his grasp. He quickly rolled to his feet and dropped into a fighting crouch, spinning and flailing his arms wildly through the air. He had actually landed right at Seifer's feet, who was clearly having a good time easily dodging Zell's wild swings and grinning maniacally. "Shit! I can't see anything! Who were they, Quisty?"
Seifer let out a low, barking laugh, and Zell stiffened.
"Aww, man, don't tell me -" he groaned.
"In the flesh, Chicken Wuss," Seifer replied, cracking his knuckles. "I think it's time for some payback!"
Quistis' eyes narrowed. Payback my ass, she clearly broadcasted as she whirled her whip around in an impressive twirl over her head and snapped it at Seifer's (and Zell's) feet.
"Oh, you brought your whip with you, Instructor!" Seifer leered, his eyes lighting with delight. "Good, you're gonna need it. Guys?"
Raijin and Fujin smiled as they simultaneously lifted their hands; a look of horror crossed Quistis' face, and a loud "Huh?" was the last coherent word Zell managed to speak. The Confuse spell hit Quistis at the same time that the Berserk spell took root in Zell; it was just long enough for the Balamb Bandits to make their grand escape, laughing loudly as the destruction only two fully trained A-rank SeeDs could orchestrate broke loose.
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