Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Protecting the Lion ❯ Morning Migraines ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter Three

Morning Migraines

 

 

In his office only a quarter hour after the untimely break in, Squall paced back and forth. He was debating his next move. Should he wake Quistis up at three in the morning or should he wait until the workday?

 

Eventually he settled for waiting. There was no need to matters worse by making it seem as though he was too upset over the incident to wait a few hours.

 

Squall felt impassive toward the whole affair, which compelled him to examine the situation more closely. Someone had snuck into his room, bypassing his security alarm and escaping nearly undetected. Had Gabriel not been there, Shiva would have woken him up and he'd have been none the wiser to any of it. This suggested that the intruder had extensive stealth training. Then again, his fatigued condition may have dulled his senses and kept him sleeping too deeply for his own good.

 

Unable to draw any sound conclusions, he set the matter aside. Remaining in his office, he began the next day's round of paperwork. He loathed being a desk jockey. His mind became so numb after a short period of time, lines and words blurring together as though he had the attention span of a five year old. He was a fighter, which meant being in the battlefield, not some cushy chair with stacks of papers threatening to bury him alive. By the end of the day, clocking a couple hours in the training center was a saving grace even if it meant losing sleep.

 

As morning light cast a glow through partially opened blinds behind his chair, Squall rubbed his tired eyes. He couldn't differentiate one report from the next, and knew he was in poor condition to be working. It was going to be a particularly grueling day.

 

The sun finally made its way above the mountainous horizon. Horizontal shadows were cast across his desk and scattered paperwork. The morning was suddenly bright. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his hand. Turning in his chair, he faced the window and let the sun his body. He shivered with exhaustion, certain that if he rest his eyes for a moment, he'd be sleeping soundly well into the afternoon. Unable to help it, Squall's eyes drooped shut slowly. Snapping back to attention abruptly, he reprimanding his momentary lapse. He had the entire day ahead of him.

 

Outside the office doors, where his secretary's desk was, he heard footsteps and muffled voices. Though he was unable to discern the actual words, he recognized the voices belonging to Quistis and his secretary Miss Fryer, or was it Miss Meyer? One of the double doors to his spacious office was promptly opened.

 

“Please, set the coffee so it's ready before he comes in for the day,” Quistis said to the commander's secretary, carrying a stack of briefing folders over to Squall's desk. Her footsteps slowed as she viewed the unorganized arrangement of papers and folders littering the desk. The open laptop near the far corner was cause for concern. It wasn't like Squall to leave everything out in such disarray. The night guard would have contacted her if the commander hadn't turned in for the night, so she simply assumed Squall had left at such an ungodly hour that tidying up the desk hadn't been a priority.

 

Chair turning, Squall faced the head instructor with an unreadable mask in place. The face he hid was contorted in a grimace. He knew a rather long and perhaps even hysterical lecture was about to be given.

 

Stopping in her tracks, Quistis stared at her stubborn friend. Dark circles under steely blue eyes told her exactly what the brunet had been up to all night. There was a press conference that day and it would be impossible to hide those bags. The commander's naturally pale complexion was almost ghostly and high cheekbones were more prominent after months of steady weight loss. Concern filled her. As a friend, she worried about Squall's health. Worry gave way to anger as she realized the commander had spent another night in the office. Slamming the stack of folders she carried down onto the desktop, she cried, “Dammit, Squall! What are you trying to accomplish here?”

 

Never flinching, Squall reached inside his coat and retrieved the small disk he had found on the floor of his kitchen. Tossing it onto his desk, he offered no explanation.

 

Quistis adjusted her glasses in frustration. “What is this?” she asked, still keeping in mind that she was going to tell the commander off for another sleepless night.

 

Not meeting the blonde's eyes, Squall stared at the slim black case. “I don't know,” he muttered.

 

“It looks like a CD,” Quistis observed, biting the bait out of curiosity.

 

“But, for what?” Squall prompted, more than willing to occupy her mind with questions than divulge the entire truth.

 

“I bet Selphie would know. Where'd you get it?” the instructor asked, pulling a chair close and sitting down. Concern flashing, she leaned forward. The commander seemed to be hesitating in giving an answer, which was never a good sign.

 

“My rooms,” he informed reluctantly. Usually blunt with his words, his reluctance kept him from blurting out the whole truth.

 

“Squall,” Quistis warned, crystal blue eyes sharp and aware. She would not accept anything but the full truth. Tucking a stray strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, she stared at her fare friend and waited impatiently.

 

“It was left behind, dropped in the kitchen,” Squall finally offered, wishing he knew how to satisfy the perceptive woman without revealing everything. He knew he had failed when the head instructor crossed her legs, a mannerism he recognized from her interrogations.

 

“Left behind by whom exactly?” Quistis inquired, tone of voice implying that she was quite willing to sit there all day.

 

Sighing in defeat, unwilling to put up a fight when he hardly had any left in him, Squall replied, “I didn't see them. I was woken up. I heard a disturbance outside my bedroom. Gabriel was upset. When I looked around I found this.” Now he winced.

 

“What!” Quistis cried, shooting out of the seat. Walking swiftly to the door she closed it softly, before striding back and leaning over the desk and hissing, “Someone was in your room?” Her voice was tremulous with the implication that a very close call had been made.

 

“Quistis, calm down. It's not a big deal,” Squall assured.

 

Eyes widening, Quistis remarked, “Not a big deal? Are you crazy? This makes it final. I knew I had to convince you somehow, but this settles it.” She reached for the commander's phone. Picking up the receiver she dialed an extension. After a pause she spoke into one end, “Hey Selph, sorry to wake you. Can you come to the Squall's office right away?” She paused again. “Yeah, right now… okay, thanks.” Hanging up the phone she took to pacing.

 

Squall watched with his brows furrowed in confusion. “What exactly is settled?” he finally asked.

 

With a wave of her hand to show it was nothing too special, Quistis said, “I called someone in to watch over you.”

 

It took Squall a moment to absorb what he had just heard. Coughing as though he'd taken a sip of water and swallowed wrong in his surprise, he managed to blurt out, “You what?” His tone conveyed his disapproval.

 

Quistis stopped pacing for a moment. “Look, this stalker is obviously a threat. With the condition you're in, you need protection. I've called someone in to act as your bodyguard,” she explained firmly, not willing to be swayed in the least.

 

There was little Squall could do but glare harshly. Mixed emotions battled back and forth within him, none of which he expressed outwardly. He was livid, completely blown away that his head instructor would go behind his back to hire a bodyguard. Further more, he was insulted that Quistis thought he needed protection. He might have been a bit tired, but he could certainly handle himself in a fight. “This is hardly a stalker,” he bit out tersely, lips pressed tightly together to keep from saying what was really on his mind. “I can handle him on my own,” he stated flatly, his voice wavering with slight anger at the end.

 

“No, you can't,” Quistis refuted, placing her hands akimbo. “You don't eat or sleep. That alone puts you in a weakened state. I don't care if you can kill this person head on in battle. This is an entirely different situation. Even if you refuse sleep, you're body with eventually exhaust itself.” Her voice level rose as she continued to rant. “Tell me Squall, how are you going to defend yourself when you've collapsed? You have to sleep, everyone does. You can't possibly be on guard every hour of the day.” She took a couple steps closer. “So what then? Tell me Squall, `cause I'd really like to know!”

 

Brows furrowed, Squall fought the urge to roll his eyes at her hysterics. “Quistis,” he started in a soothing manner, “calm down. There are more important matters to be concerned with.” When he saw the blonde's mouth open in shock, he drew back into his seat with the knowledge that he'd said exactly the wrong thing.

 

Body stiffening, Quistis said in a near shout, “More important?” Her eyes glistened behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “Whether or not your own safety qualifies as important in that stubborn and damned selfless head of yours may not be an issue for you, but it sure as hell is for me and just about every other person who has you to thank for the lives we lead today. Do you know how much we care about you? Do you know how hard we've tried to become closer, even though you push us away? One of these days I'm going to knock down that icy wall you've built up, and dammit if you aren't going to be alive for it!” Whirling around, she placed her back to him while she composed herself.

 

Squall was left in shock as he watched the blonde's hands rise to her face, obviously wiping away tears. He hadn't meant to upset her so much. He hated it when any of his friends were upset with him. Not sure what else to say, he apologized, “I'm sorry.”

 

Scoffing, the Quistis returned, “No you're not.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Squall admitted, “Okay, so I'm not. But, I still didn't intend to make you so upset.”

 

Knocking sounded from outside the door. Quistis looked at pretty boy commander, still quite fetching despite such sleep deprived features. She knew Squall was her boss and that there were boundaries to her authority, but sometimes she was pushed over the edge. She had overstepped her authority by hiring a bodyguard, but she had known Squall wouldn't have ever agreed. She knew she was doing the right thing, and wouldn't back down.

 

“Enter,” Squall called out as the knocking persisted. He was somewhat relieved that his argument with the head instructor was over, or at least paused until they were alone again. His relief was short lived as Selphie bound into the room. For a person having just woken up the flippy haired pilot was far too cheerful.

 

“Good morning!” Selphie Tilmitt greeted happily, bouncing toward the commander's desk. “What's the emergency?” she asked, her excitement seeming to suggest an emergency was something to be happy over rather than concerned about.

 

Quistis waited until the cheery pilot stood beside her before turning and taking a seat. Intent on explaining the situation in detail before requesting analysis of the CD the commander had found, she was cut off before she could even begin.

 

“Oh, pictures!” Selphie exclaimed, grabbing the small disk atop the commander's paper strewn desk. “Can I see them?”

 

Bowed lips pressing together tightly, grey-blue eyes narrowed while sharing a look with the head instructor. Squall saw that Quistis was quite shocked. He was filled with trepidation, suddenly aware that the incident could become far worse than it already was.

 

The copper haired brunette looked from one surprised face to the other. “Was it something I said?” Selphie finally asked, unsure why her companions had both gone rather pale.

 

“Pictures?” Quistis intoned with distress, a hand rubbing her temple as she tried to think.

 

“Yeah,” Selphie replied, tone still quite happy. Shoulders sagging, she became uncertain if her excitement was inappropriate.

 

“You know what that is?” Squall questioned sternly, his tone sharp and on edge.

 

Thin brows furrowed as Selphie looked at Squall. Her unease grew as she questioned the tone of his voice. Surely the commander wasn't upset with her. “Yes,” she answered quietly. “It's a memory disk for a digital camera.” Holding the case up close she turned it around while examining it. “A nice camera too. I'd say something along the lines of a Prama model. It's what the professionals use. Prama makes all sorts of cameras. They make storage cards too, but their cards are standard for a lot of cameras.”

 

The uncertainty seemed to be shared as the three friends shifted uncomfortably. Selphie had no clue what was going on, whereas Squall and Quistis were working on the extent of possible damage.

 

“Sir,” came the secretary's clear voice across the intercom.

 

Squall jumped at the chance to occupy himself with something other than some stalker and picture. He immediately reached out and pressed the small gray button on the phone. “Yes?” he replied.

 

“There is a disturbance at the main gate. Someone's broken through and is heading toward the main lift now, sir,” the older woman's voice spoke with a note of fear.

 

“And what of security?” Squall asked. Hoping there was minimal damage, he was less concerned with who had broken in.

 

“No one is critically injured, at least not at the main entrance. Sir, they're on the elevator now.” Her voice was worried.

 

Regretting that his secretary was not trained in combat, Squall sighed at the frightened tone to the woman's voice. “It's fine, just let them in and don't worry,” he said, assuring her unasked question of whether she should try and stop the intruder.

 

“Squall,” Quistis said in a chastising manner. “You don't even know who it is.”

 

“What does it matter?” Squall questioned nonchalantly, managing to imply that he was too strong to worry without sounding arrogant.

 

As the three companions listened in silence they heard the faint ding of the elevator. Squall remained impassive in his chair, hardly willing to give any more time for redundant disturbances such as this, while Quistis and Selphie straightened in anticipation.

 

Evenly paced footsteps sounded outside the door. As Quistis noted how long the stride was, her eyes widened in realization. It was too late to warn Squall.

 

The office doors were thrown open.

 

The air seemed to leave the room as Quistis tried to catch her breath. This was not good. Tension filled the room, a long silence following.

 

TBC… please review…