Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Protecting the Lion ❯ Surprise Visitor ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter Four

Surprise Visitor

 

Seifer Almasy stood imposingly on the threshold of the commander's office. The ex-sorceress knight was far from welcome in a place like Garden, but many pasts were overlooked upon enrolling in the training school for mercenaries. Golden blond hair was combed back in a well-mannered style, a few cleanly cut strands falling over his forehead. Jade-green eyes shown brightly as he stood in the early morning light. His tanned features were testimony to what he might have been up to for the past six months. A cocky smirk graced his face as he surveyed the office.

 

The silence was broken by a dull slap as Quistis' hand hit her forehead. Her obvious displeasure seemed to break the dam and open the floodgates for time to begin flowing again.

 

Bounding from her seat, Selphie jumped at Seifer. Apparently she held no grudges for old acquaintances.

 

More than surprised by the small girl dangling from around his neck, Seifer raised a hand and awkwardly pat her back. “ Tilmitt, what gives?” he asked.

 

“Welcome back!” Selphie cried happily, releasing him from her tight hold and dropping back to her feet. Abruptly, she punched the ex-knight's arm, doing more harm to her fist than the rock solid muscle she hit. Ignoring the small pain, she shook her hand out. Apparently aware of her folly, the blond smirked knowingly at her. Huffing, she exclaimed, “It's about time you came back!”

 

Quirking a brow, Seifer gave her a questioning look. Since when did the messenger girl like him so much? He certainly couldn't blame her good tastes. “Sure,” he replied, not knowing what else to say. When his gaze fell to Instructor Trepe he had to suppress his laughter. He had always enjoyed pissing the bossy woman off, though not nearly as much as ruffling Leonhart's feathers. Judging from the frown and serious look on the commander's face, he had succeeded in angering two for the price of one.

 

Seifer's small joy was short lived as he continued to study his former rival's effeminate face. Frowning, he was not at all pleased with what he saw. The pictures and news broadcasts had revealed nothing of the extent of Leonhart's condition. He should have known that what he had seen wasn't enough to warrant the concern that Trepe held. The smaller man before him looked about ready to collapse. Dark circles were prominent beneath steely blue eyes and thickly fringed eyelids were tinged a sleep starved pink color. From his distance across the room he could tell the already slender man had lost weight. Still, those bright eyes were vibrant and full of life. It was that stubborn spirit in his rival that kept the commander standing.

 

Taken completely by surprise, there was little Squall could do except stand up swiftly. His hasty movement was a mistake, giving him a head rush so sever that he had to fight from swaying as his vision darkened. His instinct was to draw Lionheart and rush the blond knight, while another part of him was undeniably curious as to why Seifer was there in the first place. Brows drawing together, he tried to get a handle on the situation.

 

Composing herself once again and suppressing her annoyance at the arrogant man's actions, Quistis greeted, “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

 

Grinning broadly, Seifer strode past Tilmitt and made his way across the room. Black coat swaying in tandem with the stride of his long legs, he was soon standing across from Leonhart. His green eyes bore intently into the younger man's behind the desk. Not breaking eyes contact, he round the desk, catching the flickering emotion that grey-blue eyes showed very briefly. The emotion he had caught was no figment of his imagination, but steely irises stared at him with such impassive disinterest that he was shocked at how guarded the commander had become.

 

Still not looking away, Seifer said, “Shucks Trepe, don't I get a hug like Miss Sunshine gave me? You know how much you've wanted to get your hands all over me.” His grin widened, but only the commander could see. Eyes gleams with mischief, he raised a hand and paused to gauge Leonhart's reaction. The younger man's eyes didn't flinch, but that lean body seemed to stiffen slightly. Seifer reminded himself how dangerous it was to play with a lion that had sharp claws. He was acutely aware of how close the commander's hand was to Lionheart's hilt. Arrogant to a fault, he ignored his better sense and reached out to ruffle the brunet's already wayward hair. “It's been a while Leonhart,” he finally greeted, removing his hand from thoroughly mussed hair.

 

Rich laughter filled the room as Seifer observed Leonhart's reaction. Though the commander had seemed ready to pounce moments before, the younger man now had a head of sex romped hair and the expression of a lost child. It was almost adorable how those vibrant eyes were widened in shock and grasping for answers.

 

“What the hell is going on here?” drawled a silky smooth voice from the open doorway.

 

The exposed emotion in Squall's shocked demeanor was fleeting, disappearing as soon as the cavalry arrived. Green eyes were very observant of this swift change.

 

Seifer's broad frame blocked the commander from view. Turning to greet the newcomers, he stepped aside. Crossing his arms imposingly, his chin rose with an air of superiority while he stared at several familiar faces.

 

Four new members of the welcoming brigade filed into the overcrowded office. Raijin and Fujin stood to one side with knowing expressions and eager eyes, while Irvine Kinneas and Zell Dincht made a comical pair of gaping fish.

 

Irvine didn't seem too pleased, but Zell's cheeks were flaming with barely contained rage. Cracking his knuckles, the platinum blond boxer started shifting from foot to foot.

 

Regardless of his displeasure, Irvine's body language was relaxed and laidback. He lazily tipped his hat before pushing it farther back to better observe his surroundings. Strutting closer to the commander's desk, he said, “I think someone forgot to tell me something.” Amethyst eyes studied each face sharply.

 

“Seifer's back!” Selphie exclaimed in a world of joy all her own.

 

Irvine would have retorted sarcastically, but he was already sleeping on the couch for a few misplaced glances at the new female recruits. “Thanks darlin', but I was looking more for an explanation,” he said evenly, successfully masking all sarcasm.

 

“Yes, an explanation would be rather expected, even after the fact,” Squall bit out harshly, directing his comment to either Seifer or Quistis, who seemed to be the only ones with any clue.

 

“I'll leave this to Trepe, she always did enjoy explaining everything,” Seifer commented with a clap to Leonhart's shoulder. The teasing gesture was apparently a very bad move. While the commander simply shifted a stiff shoulder to shrug his hand off and gave a death glare, Kinneas had that long rifle cocked and aimed so quickly that he barely had time to draw Hyperion and counter the pointing barrel.

 

Quistis watched with hidden approval, noting her former student's insanely swift reflexives and concluding that there was only one man suited for the job of Squall's bodyguard.

 

Realizing that his day was going to be significantly worse than he had anticipated, Squall rubbed his temples as a migraine began to throb dully. Sighing, he ignored the precarious standoff between his greatest rival and the biggest womanizer alive. It was going to be a long day regardless of Seifer's sudden return and if possible he wanted to sort it all out before noon, when he had a press conference regarding a bold political alliance with Esthar. “Quistis,” he said in a commanding tone, letting everyone know he was in no mood for games. “Talk, now.” The order was unquestionable and conveyed his utter lack of patience.

 

Taking her wire rimmed glassed off and folding them in her hands, Quistis fought to make her argument before even beginning. Standing from her seat, she stood to her full height and reminded herself that she was working with the commander's best interests in mind. As her eyes flickered to the small disk in Selphie's hand, her resolved steeled. Nodding toward the doorway, she explained, “I asked Raijin and Fujin to track Mr. Almasy down and speak with him.” She kept her tone even and dispassionate, as if she were reporting to the commander, which judging by his demanding tone was exactly what she was supposed to be doing.

 

Forgetting that the cowboy could pull the trigger at any moment, Seifer raised his blade in the air and leaned back with a scoffing laugh. “Lighten up Trepe.” He ruffled Leonhart's hair again, noting the silky feel before pushing the brunet's head forward lightly like a stronger older brother would have done as a sign of endearment. “Squally-boy is more than thrilled I'm here, aren't you?”

 

In a fast blur, sparks flew as two blades came crashing together.

 

Seifer had Hyperion raised in defense, keeping Lionheart from taking his head off his broad shoulders. His eyes flashed in joy as his heart lifted and sang a battle cry. It was this familiar clashing of blades that he used to yearn for. The malevolence and level of emotion he now saw in those grey-blue eyes was thrilling. Laughing good naturedly, he didn't seem to care at all that there was a fierce tension as Leonhart pressed the blade forward in a show of anger. Of course he appeared insane to everyone else, since the lion had snapped and the number one rule after that was to duck for cover or run to the nearest exit, whereas he was enjoying it immensely.

 

“Does the kitten not like to be touched?” Seifer prodded further, egging the fight on. He hissed a laugh through a smile as he felt the pressure increase dramatically. It was surprising that a man so small in comparison to himself who was obviously exhausted could still hold such strength. That was why the commander was so dangerous. The kitten had the strength of a lion.

 

All eyes were on the reunited rivals while the room filled with nervous anticipation. They all knew it was unwise to come between a fight with Seifer and Squall. Times may have changed, but archrivals had not. The tension between the commander and the ex-knight was palpable, almost electric. It was obvious the pair was in a world of their own.

 

Quistis knew that in the heat of battle, Squall often became lost. She even had suspicions that the Guardian Forces whispered in the commander's mind and called for release, but those suspicions were unfounded and unrelated to the confrontation taking place in front of her. Taking it upon herself, she dared to break the two up before one of them wound up crashing through the window and plummeting to their death.

 

Coughing loudly, the head instructor attempted to catch the rivals' attention, but only managed in grabbing everyone else's. Again, more obviously, she cleared her throat. This managed to capture a quick flash of bright green eyes. Thinking that perhaps shocking the commander would break the tension, she said loud enough for even the two of them to hear even in their own little world, “I want to hire Seifer as Squall's bodyguard.”

 

The reaction wasn't immediate, but after a moment, Squall's shoulders shifted.

 

Only Seifer could see the expression on the younger man's face, bright eyes blinking while that analytical brain processed what had just been said. When the commander's eyes became more prominently blue, he knew their stand off was over.

 

Squall squinted slightly as his migraine pounded loudly, protesting his actions up until that moment. Without warning, his strength seemed to dissipate.

 

Although blue-grey eyes were staring levelly at his chest, Seifer didn't miss the signs in the brunet's changed demeanor. He quickly eased off the pressure behind his blade.

 

Gritting his teeth and blinking at the suddenly too bright room, Squall took a tremulous breath to steady himself. Carefully masking any trace of weakness, he gently lowered his weapon. Not sheathing it right away, the tip rested against the carpeted floor. Disbelief over what Quistis had said rendered him speechless. “What?” he managed at length, teeth clenching.

 

To the occupants of the room, save a rather perceptive blond knight, the commander appeared ready to unleash a bitter and cold fury. Appearances were quite deceiving, when in actuality Squall couldn't think straight as the throbbing in his head took a sharp turn for the worse. His frequent migraines were an issue he had already seen Dr. Kadowaki for, but there was no reprieve for him at the moment.

 

“Entertaining as this may be, I'm beyond famished. I don't know about anyone else, but I simply cannot discuss business on an empty stomach,” Seifer said blithely, rubbing his jaw and grinning roguishly. Directing his attention to Fujin, he instructed, “Run along and get a booth for the…” He scanned the room quickly, pretending to count each person. “…eight of us.”

 

“NEGATIVE,” Fujin returned.

 

“Yeah, Fu and I are gonna get going, ya know. We've got classes to teach and, like, arguments to avoid,” Raijin explained.

 

Raijin and Fujin hastily walked out the open door and toward the elevator, escaping the battlegrounds. They were both privy to why Seifer was there and didn't want to be involved in trying to force a bodyguard on the commander any more than they already had been. They were content with their jobs and knew remaining in Commander Leonhart's office would be the fastest way to unemployment.

 

“Hey, get back here!” Zell cried shaking a fist in their direction before slumping in defeat as the elevator doors slid closed and whisked the fleeing duo downward, away from the problem the rest of them faced. “Not fair,” he grumbled.

 

“Go on Dincht,” Seifer ordered. “You know the best place to go. Find room for six.”

 

While Zell snapped his head up and glared at the tall blond, Selphie raised her hand and waved it around madly. “Oh, oh, I have an idea!”

 

“This ain't a classroom darlin',” Irvine drawled in scrutiny. Catching his tongue, he gulped and plastered a smile to his face. “Go ahead and speak your mind,” he said more amicably. He was somewhat distressed that he frequently found himself curbing his tongue around his favorite ray of sunshine. His cold turkey attempts to change his womanizing ways left him not only celibate, but also extremely grouchy. He had become quite the cynic, and did his best to spare his little lady the harsh words that tried to come from his mouth.

 

Smiling widely, Selphie danced from foot to foot. “Let's use the conference room and order breakfast.” When her suggestion was met with dumb silence, she rolled her eyes and sighed disapprovingly. “You guys! Snap out of it! Seifer shows up and all you can do is stand around gaping like mindless morons.”

 

“Ouch, babe. That was harsh,” Irvine answered, pushing his hat forward and shouldering Exeter.

 

With the cogs in her mind spinning fast, Quistis thought about Selphie's proposal and made a decision. “Great idea. Let's all go.” The conference room was the perfect setting to hash out all the sordid details of why Seifer was there.

 

Regarding the head instructor uncertainly, both Zell and Irvine shifted their gaze from Squall to Quistis. Eventually Squall gave a subtle nod of ascension.

 

“Yay! I want waffles,” Selphie said, taking Irvine's arm and dragging him towards the door.

 

Shoving his fists into his pockets Zell trailed after the two lovebirds, he brightened slightly at the prospect of ordering whatever he wanted for breakfast. His mouth was already watering at the thought of eating hotdogs.

 

Quistis started walking away, but sensed that Squall was still expecting some sort of liable excuse from her. Glancing over her shoulder, she said resolutely, “I won't apologize for this. I think everyone should know about what happened last night. I'm going to view whatever is on that disk. Whatever rank you may be, you must acknowledge this threat.” Her voice was stern, something she found difficult to pull off given her audience. Not even waiting for the elevator to be called back up, she strode briskly to the emergency stairwell and out of sight.

 

The crowd had left almost as quickly as it had entered. Seifer and Squall were the only ones left in the office.

 

“You can let go of me now,” Squall bit out vehemently, pulling his arm away from Seifer's grasp. His vision was blurred by his long bangs as the touch friendly blond messed his hair up again. It occurred to him that Seifer was touching his head repeatedly because the man truly desired to be killed, but then the arrogant knight would have let him follow through with his attack earlier.

 

To Squall's annoyance and concealed embarrassment, after his short power struggle with his rival, his body had started to give out on him. He had managed to hide it briefly, but wouldn't have succeeded in standing upright if his rival hadn't subtly supported him. He wasn't sure what was a worse scenario, nearly collapsing and being helped by Seifer or falling over and having everyone witness it.

 

Ducking away from the hand that lingered on his head, Squall moved around to the other side of his desk, not caring that he was giving the blond an upper hand in his own territory. “Why now?” he growled, replacing Lionheart in its holster.

 

“If not now, then when?” Seifer replied in a mocking and carefree tone.

 

“Don't play with me,” the brunet ground out, leaning forward and gripping the richly colored wooden desktop.

 

“Trepe went to great lengths to find me and ask me back-” Seifer began to explain to the sickly looking man, but was cut off by the loud thumping of the other's gloved fist hitting the desk without care of the scattered papers beneath. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, searching for the right words. It was difficult to answer the question when he wasn't entirely certain himself. He decided to try a different approach. “Would you take me back?” he asked sincerely.

 

Stunned by the question, Squall raised his face, craning his neck upward from his hunched position. His face showed every emotion that crossed his mind, from confusion to surprise. “Take you back?” he finally questioned. He didn't like it, so many questions, but no answers.

 

“Yeah, like Raijin and Fujin. Or would you have me executed?” Seifer made sure to keep his tone in check, knowing that if he was anything but serious, Leonhart would become pissed and expend even more energy trying to get rid of him.

 

Scoffing, the commander quickly schooled his expression. He remained in his slightly weaker position, lacking the energy to argue while standing straight. Upon realizing how pathetic he must seem, he busied himself with the organizing of the papers before him. His only comment was, “It was an unjust war. Mind games took away many a person's free will. I'm no executioner.”

 

“I had my own will, don't you doubt that for a second!” Seifer hissed, insulted that his oldest rival would think so little of him. “I was a knight by choice.” He watched for any reaction. When he received none, he became more agitated. He was angered that the brunet had that icy wall erected when he fancied himself an exception to the younger man's guarded attempts at keeping people out. “Would you not condemn me to death? Testify in court? I'm sure there are a few nations that would love to see me hang.” This elicited the reaction he wanted.

 

Squall eyes sharpened dangerously, staring with cool warning in jade green ones. “Don't insult me!” Squall spat, enraged and insulted by the blond's implications. “If I condemn a man to death, then I'd sure as hell be the last thing he saw as I killed him myself! Don't take me for a coward!” He didn't care if his secretary, who he suspected was still outside the open office doors, overheard.

 

Smiling in a sudden change of demeanor, Seifer pulled the headmaster's cushy chair up and sat down heavily with a content sigh. His actions were out of place in the tense atmosphere. “This is why I came back,” he stated, now having a solid answer for the first time. It had taken a little demonstration to jog his memory. Seeing Leonhart's uncomprehending gaze, he elaborated, “I miss pissing you off. There isn't anybody out there worth my attention. Every damn city is the same. This world is full of weaklings. I took Trepe's offer, knowing how much it'd tick you off.” He ended his explanation by raising his feet and resting his boots atop the glossy desktop that the brunet had just cleared of papers.

 

Brows furrowed, Squall found himself unsure of what Seifer meant. There was one thing he did know, which was that he wasn't about to let such an arrogant asshole come in to his office and pretend to have some sway over his emotions. In a show of his defiance, he mustered strength from his final reserves and swiftly lifted the heavy boots off the desk, shoving them upward.

 

Caught by surprise, it was all Seifer could do not to topple over in the swiveling chair. Luckily he still held Hyperion and was able to use it for support.

 

Squall straightened, turning and walking towards the door while he mumbled a stream of angry curses beneath his breath.

 

Seifer caught a bit of what the brunet said.

 

“Don't need a damn babysitter… cocky bastard…”

 

With a grin, Seifer watched the younger man storm out of the office, seeing for the first time in a long time the famous ass that earned the commander a fan club.

 

In the elevator, Squall leaned back against the cool metal wall and closed his eyes. His body shuddered. He was beyond exhausted. Even the lights of the elevator were too bright, making him want to shy away. He was going to struggle every second of that day's press conference when those cameras flashed.

 

It took the commander a moment to register that the doors hadn't closed yet. Cracking a lid, the tall blond's form came into view, taking up the entire entrance.

 

Minutes seemed to pass while the pair simply stared at each other.

 

Loser of the stand off, Seifer took his place beside the brunet and folded his arms. “So, where's the conference room?” he asked once the doors had closed and they were left alone in the restricted space.

 

“…” Squall didn't answer.

 

“I suppose it's the same one as always.” Smiling green eyes looked down on the mop of mussed hair, which he noticed the commander hadn't even bothered trying to straighten.

 

A sudden thought occurred to Seifer as he watched the tired commander rest grey-blue eyes, seeming to sleep while standing. The way the brunet looked truly did make it appear like the man had been thoroughly handled in the bedroom. He found his curious green eyes taking in the sights that he hadn't been presented for six months. He wondered if Leonhart had always looked so strangely androgynous or if it were a new development. How could a guy have lips that were almost red when the rest of the man's skin was so pale? How could those lashes be so long and dark?

 

Seifer found his eyes transfixed and his senses straining in concentration. A sigh escaped those pout lips and the commander's breathing slowed somewhat. He wondered if perhaps Leonhart had really gone to sleep.

 

The elevator dinged and Squall snapped to attention, abruptly squinting when his eyes were flooded with too much light. Managing to move one foot in front of the other, his mind returned to the various problems he'd been thinking of on the way down.

 

Where the hell was Rinoa? Was announcing an alliance with Esthar the right thing to do when Laguna had refused to keep their newly discovered relation a secret? What day was he scheduled to have a meeting with the other Garden commanders on a change in training regimen? Would Quistis seriously push him to accepting Seifer as a bodyguard?

 

Squall was almost willing to just accept Quistis' ludicrous proposal simply to eliminate the matter from his list of unresolved problems. With or without his approval, his rival seemed to be taking liberties extended only to knights and protectors.

 

The walk to the conference room wasn't a long one, but for Squall it began to feel strenuous. It didn't help that he had little to look forward to upon arriving. As he listened to the blond's closely following steps, his annoyance grew. He wanted to turn around and tell the older boy to leave and never return, but he didn't harbor any true hate for the former knight. Deciding to get some answers while he had the chance, he asked, “What did Quistis ask of you?” There was no response for a moment, but then he heard the blond's deep voice speak from a distance significantly closer than he was comfortable with.

 

“Trepe hasn't actually asked anything of me. I'm here, to hear her proposal,” Seifer answered.

 

Remaining silent, Squall decided it was best to just leave it.

 

TBC… please review…