Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Protecting the Lion ❯ Like a Married Mercenary Couple ( Chapter 38 )

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Like a Married Mercenary Couple

 

The door slid open smoothly, allowing Quistis to enter Squall's apartment. It was similar to her own, as well the other instructors' more distinguished living spaces. Though, the Commander didn't seem to have decorated in the least.

 

Stepping in, her knee high boot heals clicking on the tiled flooring, she sniffed the air. With a smile she realized that Squall was cooking, which was always a good thing.

 

In her arms, cradled gently, was a complacent black cat. She honestly didn't know why the animal stuck around. Having come from Timber's back alleys, she was surprised the feline had a domestic side. Though, having the run of an entire Garden was hardly domestic, Gabriel always returned to the Commander's apartment. There were times when the creature had been found sitting on the secretary's desk outside the Headmaster's office, waiting to be let in. That usually happened when Squall failed to take a long enough break to go back to his apartment, and ended up spending several days at a time cooped up with paperwork.

 

When Gabriel didn't seem to have any intention of leaving her hold, she set the cat down. Bright yellow eyes stared at her before he scampered towards the kitchen. She chuckled to herself. That cat was becoming spoiled. Always wandering to the cafeteria, he could find food from both Greta and every other student eating there.

 

Sitting down, she unzipped her boots and set them aside before leaving the entryway and pattering across the wooden floor. Taking a seat on one of the stools, she propped her elbows on the counter and rest her head in her hands.

 

Squall hardly spared Gabriel a glance, only greeting the cat long enough for a quick pet on the head and to tell him to leave the kitchen. “You've already eaten, out of the kitchen.” Surprisingly, the creature complied.

 

Quistis remained interested simply in watching Squall for a few more moments. Leaning over slightly, she tried to peer into the simmering pan on the stove. Whatever it was, it smelled really good, especially since she'd skipped lunch that day.

 

It had been an extremely long day for the Head Instructor. In fact, the passed few days had been overwhelmingly stressful. Acting as Headmistress was seriously tiring, and no matter how many times she reaffirmed her determination, by the time she went back to her apartment, she was ready to collapse and call it quits. She couldn't fathom how Squall had done it. Taking on so much responsibility without any help, and managing it all for a solid six months.

 

She actually had an appointment with Dr. Kadowaki to have her eyes checked out. She needed glasses for distances, but after reading all that finely printed paperwork, not to mention the mountain of books used as reference material, she was afraid she now needed bifocals. No woman at nineteen should need bifocals, it made her feel old.

 

By the time Rinoa had showed up in her office, she'd been ready to snap. It was all she could do not to storm out on the sobbing girl and decide to call in all her vacation time. However, upon forcing herself to listen to the dark haired girl, she found her attention captured regardless of her weary state.

 

By the time she'd absorbed the information, her mind had been in a bit of a daze. Unable to take Rinoa's word on any of it, she decided to see Squall. If she asked nicely, and didn't make it seem like the answer held any great importance, then the Commander might be willing to divulge some of the personal information.

 

When Squall continued to ignore her presence, she commented, “You should know who you're letting in before you say they can enter.”

 

Drying his hands on a dishtowel, Squall didn't bother to look at her while going about his work. Setting another pan on the stove and turning the dial on with a small ticking sound, he replied, “The only people that I will allow in are the same people who have the code. Unless you're implying that Zell, Irvine, or Selphie are dangerous.” Having seen the tired expression on Quistis' face, he felt compelled to make up for putting so much strain on her. “I can't remember, do you prefer chocolate or vanilla pudding?”

 

Blinking in quick succession, Quistis straightened up. “Pudding?” she questioned, slightly hopeful.

 

“For dessert,” Squall supplied, doing his best to maintain an impassive expression. Zell had hotdogs, and Quistis had pudding. If he were to venture a guess, he'd say that after acting as Headmistress, she hadn't had much time to enjoy any meals. But, after today, that would all change. He wasn't going to continue to put her through any more stress by taking his place.

 

Remembering why she came in the first place, Quistis schooled her expression and replied nonchalantly, “Vanilla is always a good choice.” Though the unspoken invitation to dinner was a rather nice end to her day.

 

Unable to fight back a smirk, Squall abruptly turned his back to the instructor. Easily excusing the movement, he made to get something out of the fridge.

 

“Rinoa came to see me today,” Quistis said smoothly.

 

Not responding, Squall selected a bottle of water. To his dismay, his refrigerator was stocked with food, a sight that had yet to become normal.

 

Taking her glasses off, Quistis stored them atop her head. “She was quite upset.” She was trying to test the waters. It was difficult to know what was off limits when Squall never seemed inclined to talk about anything. Though she could only guess, she'd say it was common sense that the subject she was about to broach was not something the introverted boy would like to discuss openly.

 

Nodding, Squall recalled the manner in which Rinoa had fled from the apartment. The chicken stir-fry was nearly done, so he went about starting dessert, his water left unopened on the counter. Even if he knew where Quistis was heading with this conversation, he wouldn't turn her away.

 

The instructor thought for a moment, wondering which angle to start with. “I like Rinoa, she's a sweet girl,” she began, watching for some reaction.

 

Squall simply searched through the cupboard, trying to find an instant pudding packet. He thought he remembered seeing one in there awhile back, unless Selphie got to it. He wasn't postponing the impending questions Quistis was sure to ask him, he just didn't want to make it seem like it was a big deal. However, his stomach did feel rather nervous.

 

He could lie to her, and she would take his word on the matter, he knew this without a doubt. If Quistis had been easily swayed by rumors, they would have had this sort of conversation on many occasions, involving many different scandals and misconstrued quotes. The only reason the Head Instructor was approaching him now was because her source of the rumor had been legitimate.

 

Sighing, Quistis slouched. Playing these games, the tip toeing around the real questions she wanted to ask, was not something she enjoyed. She preferred to be direct, but how could she be direct with something like this. Besides, if she didn't ask Squall straight out, then she wouldn't receive a straight answer, which meant she could hold off on learning that there was truth to Rinoa's words.

 

She hadn't even begun to consider the matter in realistic terms. In her head, she couldn't say whether it would be good or bad, since she was still in disbelief. The entire day had been full of revelations, none of which would comfort her in her sleep.

 

“She's sweet, but childish,” she smiled at the faltering of Squall's searching hands that were shuffling through various items within a top cupboard. “I told her that a long time ago, when we were at Caraway's mansion, on the mission. Do you remember that?”

 

“I was in the clock tower,” Squall reminded.

 

“Oh, that's right. Well, anyway, she had been arguing with her dad. The way she acted around General Caraway was reminiscent of a spoiled brat. It made us all feel like we were being used for some family feud. I'm afraid I lost my cool and told her off.”

 

Finding the small cardboard pack, Squall brought it out from the back of the shelf. He was pleased to see that it was vanilla, since it had been the only one in there. “Did you ever consider that she might just be acting her age, and we're the ones who grew up too fast?” Squall asked solemnly.

 

Crystal blue eyes widened at the brunet's words. Why was Squall such a mystery to them? No matter how much she analyzed the young man, he remained among the unknown anomalies to her. It was hard to remember him as a small child, lost and alone. Squally and Commander Leonhart were like two completely different people. As an after thought she mused aloud, “I suppose you two were never really a good match. But, even I thought that how you are now wasn't the real you… it was hard to tell.”

 

Setting the package down, half of the top opened, Squall regarded Quistis seriously. “I've always been the same person. I haven't changed.”

 

“But, you have, you've changed so much,” she spoke, her voice full of emotion.

 

“No,” Squall cut in firmly. “The circumstances have changed, not me.”

 

“Squall, it's not a bad thing. It just took us a while to realize that being isolated and quiet is your way now. We, or at least I, thought that with Rinoa around, you would be like you were before. But, we love you no matter how you are.”

 

Clenching his fist, Squall frowned. There it was again, that word. Love. With bitterness in his voice he spoke coldly, “I haven't changed.”

 

“Squall-”

 

“No,” he cut off. “The time and circumstances have changed. I've always been as I am before you now. The Ice Prince has been my nickname for as long as I can remember. I know how you felt after the war. No longer an orphan, surrounded by friends, you thought I should be smiling and laughing with everyone else. I never smiled or laughed, but things like that only become noticeable when it's expected.” Looking Quistis in the eyes, he urged, “Tell me Quisty, was I supposed to smile and laugh when we were left behind? Was I supposed to be glad that we found a home in Balamb Garden?”

 

Shocked, Quistis sat still as Squall's words echoed in her head. “Who's we?” she questioned after a moment. Interestingly, gray-blue eyes widened with their own shock, and Squall's eyes fell to the floor.

 

“I meant-” Squall began to rectify, but was cut off.

 

“You meant Seifer, didn't you?” she asked, wishing she hadn't spoke so rashly, since her tone seemed to sound accusing.

 

Unable to refute the sharp woman's solid intuition, Squall opted for giving no response. Neither admitting nor denying. It had been a slip of the tongue, or rather mind, since he hadn't even known he'd said it. But, her words had rubbed salt into already open wounds. His response had been an uncharacteristic moment of speaking without thinking first.

 

“Where's Seifer?” she asked, hoping to redeem herself and not make the brunet retreat any further.

 

Shaking choppy strands of hair, Squall answered, “I don't know.” His tone conveyed his wishes to end their conversation, but he knew the instructor's stubbornness could rival his own when her mind was set.

 

Surprised by this, Quistis questioned further, “How long ago did he leave?” Knowing that Seifer had been adhering strictly to their contract, she was more than grateful for this window of opportunity. The blond had seemed inseparable from his charge, and while this was all stated in the contract, she hadn't warranted twenty-four hour surveillance. Knowing how the pair might be liable to kill each other, she'd been astounded by the cooperation on it all. Although, she now had a different view on what might have been encouraging the civility.

 

“An hour, a little more, actually,” the brunet said, casting a glance to the clock in the living room. A quick look to the older girl's face told him that she wasn't going to give up until she knew more. “He needed to see someone, he wouldn't tell me what about.” He didn't like where any of this was going, but he couldn't stop it. It was inevitable, especially since Quistis seemed to already know something.

 

Nodding, Quistis decided that right then was as good a time as she was likely to get. “Speaking of Seifer, Rinoa threw a few accusations at me about him.”

 

Expressionless, Squall didn't seem to be showing any signs of listening, but she continued regardless, “She seemed to think that I should have told her about the fact that you and Seifer had been involved.”

 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Squall gave a sigh and leaned against the counter top adjacent to the one in front of the instructor. “I'm surprised at how easily a situation can be misinterpreted,” he finally spoke softly.

 

With a small smile, Quistis let out a long breath of relief. So, it had all been one big and extremely odd misunderstanding. Though, she was curious how much of what Rinoa retold had been truth and how much an exaggeration, and where the misinterpretation began.

 

Silently cursing that he was the one having to do all the explaining, Squall vowed that if everyone were going to find out, then Seifer would be breaking the news the next time. On second thought, that was a bad idea. He could just picture Seifer proudly telling stories of their times together, he'd never live that down.

 

Shaking his head, ridding himself of the mental image of the blond knight going around and spouting off declarations of love, Squall decided to just pull the Band-Aid off quickly. “If by involved you mean screwing each other,” he let his vulgar phrasing express his dislike for the topic, “Then Seifer and I were never involved before.”

 

“Before?” Quistis questioned meekly, wanting to find a hole to crawl into.

 

With a surfacing anger, recalling the negative way in which his relationship with Seifer was looked upon, Squall became defensive. “Since his return, which I have you to thank for, Seifer and I have been very much involved.”

 

Before Quistis could even think to reply, a baritone voice called in from the doorway.

 

“Squall!” Seifer's voice called in, “I'm sorry about the apron, but I got you a new one.”

 

Blinking in confusion, it took the instructor a moment to realize that the knight was referring to something that she had no idea about. Looking at Squall, she realized something she hadn't noticed before. The brunet was cooking without his black apron. Though she usually didn't study him while he cooked, she hadn't recalled a time when the young man had done so without that smock-like apron. A gift from Rinoa, or so she'd been told.

 

As Seifer made his way to the kitchen, he spared the Head Instructor an automated greeting, “Hey Trepe.”

 

Carrying a rectangular box, the sort that might contain a shirt or pair of pants, the knight entered the kitchen. Holding the white cardboard box out, Seifer presented it as some sort of offering.

 

Baffled, Quistis simply sat there and watched. The frown on Squall's face told her that the Commander was not at all pleased.

 

Squall glared at the tall knight suspiciously. He truthfully hadn't known where Seifer had gone off.

 

Before the knight had left, they'd had a bit of a fight. Before starting dinner, he'd put on the black apron like he always did. Rinoa had given it to him for a reason, he tended to be a bit messy and managed to get ingredients all over his clothes even if the counters remained spotless.

 

Apparently, Seifer remembered who had given him the accessory and thrown a fit. Like a child, Seifer demanded that he get rid of it. Naturally, he'd refused, if only to go against the blond.

 

What was apparently a lover's quarrel, the likes of which was unique to fighters such as themselves, ended with his apron in shreds and pair huffing after a scuffle.

 

Shortly after that, Seifer had become uncommonly solemn, though it might have been because he'd given the blond the silent treatment. The next thing he knew, the pushy man was saying he had to see someone real quick and would be back soon.

 

Now, Seifer had returned, announcing that a replacement had been obtained.

 

Warily, Squall snatched the box from Seifer. Still glaring, he refused to speak and end the silent treatment. Cautiously, he opened the top.

 

Quistis watched avidly, wondering why Squall was treating the box like it was a bomb. When the brunet lifted the lid a crack, and then promptly shut it with narrowed gray eyes, she became absorbed into the entire display.

 

“That's not funny,” Squall stated, though breaking his silence towards the blond, he tried to make it sound as though he were talking to someone else.

 

“Eh?” Seifer intoned incredulously, carrying an over exaggerated tone of hurt. “I thought you'd like it.” He feigned crushed feelings by looking dejectedly towards the ground, his eyes held an unmistakable humorous sparkle though, giving him away.

 

“Throw it away,” Squall said firmly. He didn't even want something like that in his apartment.

 

“No,” Seifer said, grabbing the box from the brunet. “Come on, wear it for me,” he pleaded.

 

Disbelief registered across the Commander's face. With raised eyes brows the brunet questioned, “You're serious?”

 

“I won't take pictures if you don't want me to,” Seifer offered, reaching into his pocket and pulling a camera out.

 

Blinking, Squall continued to stare in disbelief. “You're delusional.”

 

“Just once, come on Leonhart, it'll be cute,” the blond pressed on, taking a step closer.

 

The Head Instructor found her eyes fixed on the concealing white box, trying to see through the cardboard exterior. When Squall took a defensive step back, she registered that the Commander seemed about ready to flee. She wasn't sure what, if anything, she should do. It didn't seem as though either man knew she was still there.

 

Squall cursed that he was in such a bad position. Seifer's broad form blocked the kitchen's entryway. He had a sinking feeling that another scuffle was on its way, only this time, instead of pulling something off, it would involve forcing something on.

 

Never taking his eyes from the arrogant man's green ones, Squall wondered if he might be able to make a jump for the counter of the kitchen's nook where Quistis sat.

 

“You can't make me wear it,” Squall reasoned, reaching for the humane side of the knight. He could deal with gruff fondling, in fact he quite enjoyed that, and he could even deal with a few of the blond's other pushy tendencies. However, there was a line he would not let the knight cross. He would not wear that… that thing.

 

A playful smirk spread across Seifer's face. “Call it a practical joke,” he excused.

 

Narrowing his eyes, Squall swiftly acted. Knocking the camera from the larger man's hand, he created a distraction and ensured that if the outcome were to his loss, then there would be no lasting evidence. Taking his window of opportunity, Squall ducked passed Seifer, scurrying for the open entrance.

 

Though speed was always his advantage, the close range canceled that. A firm, though not too rough, arm snagged around his waist. Even in the middle of his rushed steps, Seifer held enough strength to easily pull him back.

 

As much as Squall wanted to seriously fight back, he couldn't. At least, not until Seifer did first. As he struggled free, deftly slipping away and using his knowledge of fighting to waylay capture, Squall never struck back. The damn blond wasn't even using any real force, and he couldn't bring himself to escalate the situation to a serious battle.

 

Growling in frustration, he felt resigned to the fact that unless he took it seriously, he wouldn't be able to get away.

 

Quistis stood frozen. The moment Squall had made a run for it, she'd made ready to help out, but upon watching their fight unfold she'd held back. They weren't really fighting. It was the oddest thing she'd ever witnessed.

 

A blush crept to her cheeks as she realized what she was seeing. This was exactly the sort of lover's quarrel she would imagine the two having, if they were ever… involved. Unable to find an appropriate way of reacting, she settled for standing still and watching. As the two exchanged a few punches, never landing on the intended mark, she found herself harboring amusement. It would seem Gabriel shared her feelings, as the cat jumped up onto the counter. Yellow eyes were fixed on the scene as a black tail swished back and forth.

 

Eventually, the two wound up falling over one another. With the box dropped, the contents were effectively revealed. Strewn in a crumpled pile was a frilly pink apron, with what Quistis thought were little hearts all over it, but it might have been red polka dots.

 

Pinned beneath the blond knight, Squall spared the ridiculous waste of cloth lying on the floor nearby. Showing his distain for the hideous garment, he glared daggers at it. Turning his attention to a more than amused and cocky man above him, he narrowed his eyes.

 

As Seifer raised his arms above his head, holding his wrists together, he warned, “Seifer, don't.”

 

“For a price,” the blond teased, ceasing the hand that reached out for the apron. Before Squall could protest further he stated his demand, “A kiss”

 

“We have company,” Squall hissed out, wanting to knee the man in the stomach for his behavior.

 

“Sometimes having an audience makes it better,” the blond reasoned with a shrug. The moment he'd seen Trepe, he knew why the woman was there. It would be no use hiding their relationship from the tightly knit group of fighters.

 

Clenching his jaw, Squall saw the manner in which Seifer's eyes now gleamed. The blond was being serious now. With a sigh, he conceded. After admitting to being in a relationship with the knight, what difference did it make to show a gesture of it?

 

Grinning, Seifer swiftly dipped his head down to lay claim on Squall's lips.

 

Red faced, Quistis couldn't have felt more uncomfortable.

 

At the licking of Seifer's tongue, Squall seemed to forget himself, and all watching eyes. Parting his lips, he eagerly welcomed the exploring appendage. A soft moan escaped him, swallowed by Seifer.

 

Quistis had been wrong, she could definitely feel more uncomfortable. Nearing a nosebleed, she cleared her throat.

 

Unaffected by anything but each other, the two carried on.

 

Covering her face with hands that felt cold, Quistis remained standing. She couldn't decide whether to make a hasty exit or throw something at the unrestrained pair. As another moan filled the air, she parted her fingers to see what was happening.

 

Between embarrassment and a ridiculous arousal at the scene, which she wouldn't openly admit to, Quistis found her voice. “Hey!” she shouted, not sure what to do if that didn't work.

 

Lapping at slick lips, Seifer grinned, wondering what sort of face Trepe would have after seeing such an enticing and arousing display of lust on the Commander's part. Granted, he'd shown the same reaction, but that wasn't necessarily out character for him.

 

As Squall rest his head limply against the tiled floor, catching his breath, he suddenly remembered where he was and who was watching. A heated blush graced his cheeks. When Seifer moved off of him, he scrambled to sit up.

 

Green eyes watched the red tinge flood pale cheeks like a rouge application of makeup. Giving the brunet some sanctuary and a moment to collect dazed thoughts, Seifer pulled the Squall against his chest, shielding the smaller man from view. He whispered, “Like I said, it'll be cute.”

 

“I'm going to use the bathroom,” Quistis announced before hastily rushing off.

 

Gabriel remained, fury ears twitching at the noise of a closing door.

 

At the sound of the bathroom door closing with a loud thud, Seifer broke out into a fit of laughter. Holding onto Squall as his frame shook with amusement, he nearly lost his balance.

 

It wasn't until the painful blow to his eye that his laughter was stopped. Grunting while clutching his eye, he winced at the feel of a bruised bone. However, seeing the infuriated look on Squall's face, he began to laugh again.

 

When Squall stood up and turned away from him, he admonished, “I'm sorry, I couldn't help it.” When no reply came, he tried again, “Squall?”

 

When the brunet kept his back turned, roughly slamming a pan down on the stovetop, he stood up. “Come on, she already knew, didn't she?”

 

“That's not the problem,” Squall said tersely.

 

Stepping closer, Seifer warmly wrapped his arms around the Commander's waist. Kissing a slender neck, he apologized, “I'm sorry.” Still there was no reaction. Nibbling on an ear, he pleaded, “Please, don't be mad.”

 

Squall rolled his eyes, hating how he could no longer harbor any angry feelings at the blond, not even after such a stunt. “I'm not mad at you,” he huffed.

 

“Oh?” Seifer questioned with interest. Always pushing his luck, he snuck a hand beneath the hem of the brunet's shirt.

 

“You're not sleeping with me tonight,” Squall stated, setting his terms for punishment.

 

Groaning in frustration, Seifer let his hand fall away from smooth skin. The tone in the brunet's voice left no room for arguing.

 

“Get the plates out, dinner is ready,” Squall ordered.

 

“Yes sir,” Seifer complied, casting a downtrodden glance at the forgotten apron. He hadn't really wanted Squall to try it on. It was a horrendous creation. Still, he'd gotten what he'd really been after. Slowly but surely, more people were finding out about them, thus ensuring that everyone would know the Commander was off limits, and that he was the proud man who was staking claim.

 

TBC….

 

A/N I think that each person fluctuated between being in character and out of character, but over all, I'm content with it. I thought it was cute, even if it was kind of random. Anyway, please review. ^_^