!! Warning! This chapter contains mature content! !!
Chapter 12: In Which Two Blondes Do Something Which Is Definitely Not A Date
Quistis turned to Zell, lifting her eyebrow marginally. "So where exactly are we going?"
Zell grinned. "Surprise. C'mon." His brain told him it was a phenomenally bad idea, but he couldn't help himself: Quistis was just
standing there. He reached out, grasping her arm again and tugging gently.
"Zell, I hate surprises." However, despite her words, Quistis wasn't really resisting his pull. She seemed to be letting him lead her blindly, simply trusting him instead. Zell winced. He was taking Quisty to an
awesome place, somewhere she could really just let go and have fun - like she'd been talking about before. But he knew Quistis: if he told her right now where they were going, she'd refuse it based on dignity alone. His chances of getting her to go along with it were much better if it was a teeny tiny little surprise. Okay, so her reaction would probably be more along the lines of a nuclear fallout than a startled gasp, but by then it'd be too late. Besides, with Squall breathing down their necks, he was pretty sure Quistis wasn't going to risk leveling any more of Balamb's scenery.
Quistis paused, her arm suddenly going tight in Zell's grasp. "Are we going to Wendigo's?"
Man, she had a good memory. "Nope," Zell crowed, "but that's a good guess! This is even
better than Wendigo's, I swear!"
"Better than Wendigo's," Quistis muttered under her breath. "Who would believe it."
They came into the Balamb Marketplace, and Zell reluctantly dropped Quistis' arm; she'd probably Laser Eye
his arm off if she thought he was attempting anything in public. There seemed to be a few scattered people out here and there; Balamb had never really had much of a nightlife, but the Balamb Bandits had put a stop to most of what it
had had.
"Zell," Quistis said, taking a couple hurried steps to walk beside him. "There isn't anything down by the pier except Felicia's. And I don't think it's too much to assume that you're not taking me to Felicia's."
Zell threw her a surprised glance. "Wait, you really don't know where we're goin'?"
"No," she replied patiently. "What in the world would make you think I did?"
"You mean," Zell said, incredulous, "you've never actually snuck out of Garden."
"No!" Quistis looked horrified. "Why in the world would I do something like that?"
"For the clubs!" Zell cackled, throwing a fist into the air and doing something strangely unlike a dance step with his feet. It wasn't until he was done that he noticed Quistis had stopped moving.
"Shit!" He turned around and grabbed her arm again. "C'mon, Quisty. What's wrong?" From the look on her face, he probably knew what was wrong anyway. Here came the tirade about how hanging around in such disreputable places was shameful behavior for a SeeD and also possibly bad for your health. He'd been hoping to avoid this particular argument until Quistis was actually inside the club in question, preferably with a drink in her hand. Something nice and refreshing, maybe with a little paper umbrella in it. Actually, Zell had really just been hoping to avoid the argument altogether - Quistis wasn't exactly the club type, he knew, but she'd sounded so... well, he wanted to take her out for a good time.
"Zell, what if one of my students is here? What if someone sees me?"
Zell snorted. "Riiight. Like one of your kids is really gonna be mad to see you comin' out and loosenin' up with the rest of us." Quistis tensed up a bit, stung, and Zell winced; that certainly hadn't come out the way he wanted it to. "Look at it this way, Quisty - I betcha won't see anyone from Garden, 'cause they'll all be hidin' so they don't get reported for being out late." He grinned. "Especially if it's Irvine and Selphie."
She still hadn't said anything, and it occurred belatedly to Zell that the loss of her authority may not have been her primary concern.
What if she's embarrassed to be seen out here like this? Once the thought had occurred to him, Zell was convinced it couldn't be anything but.
Quistis is scared that her students will see her... with me. The thought stung, but it wasn't exactly surprising.
"I, uh -" He rubbed the back of his neck, nervously looking away. "Look, Quisty, it's - I mean - forget what my Ma said, yeah? This... alright, it ain't a date, okay? An' if you're really that worried about bein' seen out here with me..."
Quistis sighed - and, to his surprise, gave a small smile. "Zell, please don't be foolish. This has nothing to do with you. I'm mostly concerned that seeing my students out at some sort of club is ... just a little inappropriate." She sighed and brushed her hair away from her face with a gesture that made Zell want to run his hands through it.
NO! he told himself sternly.
No more touching of the Quistis!
"I'm probably just being paranoid," she continued, looking at him sidelong. "I worry too much sometimes." Was she really asking for approval? From him?
"C'mon," Zell said for probably the thousandth time that evening. "Let's just go. There won't be too many cadets anyways, it's a school night. An' if there are, and you feel weird, then we'll just leave, okay?"
Quistis gave him a decisive nod. "Alright, Zell," she said, and the soft way she said his name might have given him goose bumps, if he'd wanted to admit it. Not trusting himself any further, he led her quietly to the door. A small, unobtrusive sign lit up with dull pink neon lights revealed that the name of the establishment in question was
"My Final Heaven." Quistis turned and raised a questioning eyebrow at Zell, who shrugged.
"I had a hand in gettin' this place set up," he explained. "Actually, they came to me, after the war an' all," he added. "More of that Hero of Balamb stuff, y'know. I figured what the hey! There weren't any real good club scenes in Balamb anyway, so..." He trailed off as they approached the door, which was being guarded by a portly bald man who looked vaguely familiar.
"Biggs! What's up, dude!" Zell yelled enthusiastically, and Quistis blinked in recognition.
So that's where they went. "'ey, where's Wedge tonight?" Zell was asking.
The man tensed up and grimaced, giving Zell and Quistis a leery look. "He's working the floor tonight. And don't talk to me, asshole."
"Yeah, we love ya too," Zell joked, throwing a fake punch into the stocky man's arm, who instinctively paled and cringed away from the blow.
"FINE! FINE! Forget about the cover charge, just get in there and leave me the hell alone!" Biggs yelled, pulling back the rope across the entrance and gesturing at the heavy iron door behind him. Zell quickly pushed Quistis through, giving her a wink.
"That works every time," he boasted. Quistis, however, wasn't listening. Instead, she was frozen in front of a large, fluorescent poster which was hung on the door, backlit by a few weak lights.
"SeeD Night Special: All Drinks Half Off for Garden Members In Uniform," Quistis read with a note of disbelief. She turned to Zell, who was scowling at the large notice.
"Aww, I knew I should've brought my uniform alo--aaah, uh, I mean," Zell fumbled, suddenly noticing Quistis' cool glare. It wasn't too late to rescue the situation - she didn't have that distinctive blue-gold glow around her yet, after all. "Just think of it like this - it'll be easier to avoid people we know now, right?" he fudged as he ushered her through the door.
"Right," Quistis said, sounding anything but convinced. Still, she let him place his hand on the small of her back - man, was he having
all the luck tonight - and guide her down the staircase.
Even though it was nearly dark outside, Quistis still had to wait a few moments to let her eyes adjust to the pitch black inside the building. Zell squeezed her down a dark corridor; a few other clubbers were hanging about in the narrow hallway, quietly drinking, smoking, or, as one couple appeared to be doing, trying to exchange tongues and possibly also shirts. Quistis felt herself flushing and quickly averted her eyes, suddenly conscious of the hand on her back. The faint, muffled bass of loud music vibrated through the floor, and she felt herself tensing up. She hated being caught in an unknown situation, unprepared for what to expect - but she forced herself to relax. Zell wouldn't let her get hurt, right? She did trust him. She was also fairly certain he wouldn't let her embarrass herself, either - wait, what
did Zell consider embarrassing? She sifted through a couple of scenarios in her mind and couldn't come up with anything comforting. Quistis' stomach lurched unpleasantly, and she tried to hang back. "Zell, I don't think this is such a good idea -"
"Relax!" Zell bellowed into her ear as he swung the door open and the wave of heat, light and music hit them. It was like stepping into another world, and not in that Estharian sense of the word. Brightly colored strobe lights flashed through the darkened room, randomly highlighting the crush of bodies that were pressed together on the dance floor. Apparently Quistis' fears of being recognized in the club were unfounded; it was so packed that it would be more than easy to simply get lost in the crowd. Hyne, she hadn't realized that Balamb had that many residents, let alone that so many of them would be avid club-goers. The flash of a SeeD uniform caught her eye, and Quistis tensed once again, squinting at the dark figure and hoping it was no one she'd recognize in the morning. "Zell," she shouted in warning.
"Isn't this place great?" he yelled over the noise, flashing her one of his huge grins.
No! she wanted to bark at him angrily. Quistis had never felt so out of place in her entire life. The music was too loud, the lights were confusing, and the people around her were
writhing against each other. This was definitely not her idea of fun. What had Zell been thinking? She whirled on him once more, her mouth open to deliver a sound blasting, and abruptly trailed off.
Zell was waving at someone - the bartender, she guessed, from the direction he was gesturing wildly at - and grinning like a maniac. That wasn't what silenced her, though. He, like most of the other clubbers, had already started bobbing to the music. Apparently, dancing was second nature to Zell - it shouldn't have surprised her, considering how good he was at everything else that was physical. That led her mind abruptly off track as thoughts of his finely muscled arms and what he could be doing to her with them suddenly filled Quistis' head. The moment of distraction cost her; by the time she had collected her bearings, he was already sliding her towards said bar.
"Zell! Good to see ya, boy!" The burly, tattooed man behind the bar slid a drink to one of his customers and turned on them with a grin. "Who's yer date?"
"Oh, this is Quistis. We ain't datin', though," he yelled somewhat sheepishly. "She's just a friend."
The bartender only raised one speculative eyebrow and eyed her carefully. Then he squinted at her. "You're one of them heroes from Garden, ain't ya?" he said suddenly, snapping his fingers and pointing at Quistis, who froze. She silently wished for her whip as a few glances were directed her way from the crowd. Fortunately (or not), the bartender kept on talking as though he hadn't noticed her chilly reaction. "Oh, we get your type 'round here all the time. Good for business, yeah?" he yelled, winking at her.
Quistis looked at Zell in alarm, who was mouthing
"Irvine an' Selphie" at her with another, somewhat panicked grin. Quistis rolled her eyes.
"Your lady friend seems a little tense! First time here, right honey?" He laughed at Quistis' insulted look and pushed a filled glass in her direction. "Tell ya what. Drinks are on the house tonight. You need something, little lady, jus' tell 'em you're with Zell here."
But I'm not with Zell, Quistis wanted to say, suddenly feeling awkward as her earlier depression returned full force. Zell was trying to cheer her up, though. If he thought this fiasco-in-the-making would work, the least she could do was humor him. It wasn't like any of her other dates, with or without Zell, had gone any better anyhow.
Just another miss to add to my already perfect record, Quistis sighed inwardly, accepting the drink with a mild smile. "Thank you," she shouted, bringing the dark concoction to her lips. Her eyes began to water almost instantly from the smell of the alcohol alone.
"Whoa, whoa whoa!" Zell shouted, snatching the drink out of Quistis' hand and shoving it back towards the bartender. "C'mon, Joe, give her somethin' to help her loosen up, not pass out!" he complained. "Somethin' fruity. With strawberries!" he yelled, leaning over the bar.
"I could've handled that," Quistis told him, mildly annoyed.
Zell pulled back from the countertop and turned to look at her. "But I don't wanna get you drunk, Quisty," he told her earnestly. "Just, y'know, relax a little and enjoy yourself!"
She stared back at him mutely, wondering if he even knew how much he sounded like his mother.
Think of this as a learning experience, Quistis told herself, and accepted the smaller, brightly colored cocktail that was pushed at her next without argument. She sipped at the frothy liquid delicately - this time, it was sweet, with only a slight trace of tanginess hinting at the alcohol mixed in. It tasted better than she expected - and how did Zell know strawberries were her favorite, anyway? She took another, larger gulp of the drink and nearly laughed as Zell pulled it away from her with an expression that very definitely came directly from Ma Dincht.
"Not so fast! This ain't a race," he yelled. Zell did look a little nervous; probably in part because he could still remember her behavior during her magic high, which was better than she could say for herself. Quistis could've told him that he didn't need to worry quite that much - alcohol wasn't nearly as potent as magic poisoning, especially since she was in the habit of having a nightly glass of wine before going to bed. Still, it was cute to watch him sweat. She took another, longer pull from her drink deliberately, her eyes sparkling with challenge.
Zell froze, his mouth falling open involuntarily in surprise. Why was she looking at him like that? Was Quistis actually - naw, she
couldn't be, he told himself.
"How 'bout you? The usual?" the bartender was saying, preparing a tall mug of Hynekan.
"No!" Zell yelled a little more emphatically than he had meant to, his eyes still trained on Quistis. "Uh, I mean, I wanna stay sober tonight too," he added lamely, waiting for the inevitable blowup. Playing hooky. Drinking on a mission. Taking someone as prim and proper as Quistis Trepe to a club at all...
She smirked, pulling the drink away from her mouth. It left a thin, fuzzy pink moustache on her upper lip which he was about to point out when she suddenly parted her lips and slowly licked it away, a mischievous glint in her eye. Zell's words froze in his throat as his eyes followed the moist trail the tip of her tongue left behind. The pleasantly warm flip flops in his stomach decided to ramp up to burning congo drums at the display. He was halfway caught up in wondering whether or not he'd be able to taste her drink too, if he chased the path she'd traced across her lip with his own tongue, when he realized she was still staring at him with that weird look in her eye. She didn't even
blink.
Zell swallowed. No way. No frickin'
way. Quistis Trepe was not actually
flirting with him, was she?
"Uh, Joe, I think I'm gonna need that drink," he managed to choke out, grabbing the tall glass out of the amused bartender's hand and chugging it down in one long gulp. Belatedly, he realized that getting buzzed while Quistis was ... doing whatever she was doing ... was probably not the best of ideas. But, the Hynekan was working its magic; his head spun a little from how rapidly he had downed the beer and his muscles were already relaxing. An idea struck him as he watched Quistis polish off the rest of her drink - there were no repeats of the tongue incident, he observed with a bit of remorse. Which suddenly highlighted the fact that she had given herself that cocktail moustache
on purpose.
Oh, Hyne.
He was staring, he realized, and the bartender's smirk was starting to grow. And Quistis was still watching him expectantly. They had to get out of there - to go - anywhere but right there, before he did something colossally stupid. "Let's dance," he ground out, somewhat more desperately than he'd intended, and all but yanked Quistis away from the bar. She didn't resist as he pulled her out into the middle of the floor; maybe her own drink was starting to work, too. That would explain a lot, he figured. Except that she'd been giving him that look even
before she drank it.
"Are we just going to stand here, or are you going to show me how to dance?" Quistis said suddenly, glancing uncomfortably at the crush of people swaying around them. They had actually managed to clear a little space to themselves on the floor, simply due to the fact that they weren't moving with the rest of the crowd.
"Huh? Dance?" Zell mumbled, and then suddenly jerked.
You idiot, he swore silently. She wanted him to show her how to dance, not
dance. Still, things were getting a little muddled in his head, and he knew it wasn't just from the beer. He'd never been any good at picking up signals - his limited experiences with Piggy were more than enough proof of that - but he was pretty sure that he was getting mixed ones from Quistis. One minute she was licking her lips at him, and the next she was telling him to teach her how to dance in her scolding, no-nonsense voice. He frowned. Well, if she wanted to learn how to dance, he was gonna teach her, simple as that. And if she did anything with her tongue at him again, well then... his blood surged in anticipation.
A low, pulsating beat started up as the lights strobed erratically around them; a new song was starting, and Zell removed himself from his observation of Quistis long enough to taste the flavor of the music. The beat was low and harsh, reverberating through his ears and flowing directly into his veins. He felt his head starting to move as he picked up the rhythm. The rest came quickly; Zell had always been a natural at dancing. It was kinda like fighting, in a way - all you had to do was feel the beat. It was easy to get lost in the music, too - everything was simpler on the dance floor. There were no Heroes or Bandits of Balamb, no SeeDs or Civilians when the songs started playing - just the dancers and the rhythm, saturating everything. When the music was playing, he wasn't special here - just another warm body on the floor, moving to the beat with everyone else. Everyone except Quistis. He cracked an eye open and saw her standing there, watching him with a mixture of confusion and fascination. "Just close your eyes an' move," he told her simply.
Quistis blinked and stared. Her experiences with dancing had always been relegated to gentle swaying in the arms of a reserved partner or simply just watching while pressed up against one of the ballroom walls. Observing Squall's first dance with Rinoa had turned her off from enjoying the experience - and while Squall, eventually, had gotten the hang of things, she seemed to be permanently stuck in that awkward stage of the first few fumbling steps.
Zell, on the other hand, was - indescribable. There was no word for what he was doing right next to her. Ridiculous, she would have called it, had they been anywhere else. It would have been, too, the way he moved his shoulders and
flowed across the floor around her. But here, in the club, the motions somehow fit. He was better than a lot of the other people around them, she noticed, who were blindly flailing about. Zell's motions, though apparently unplanned, were deliberate and careful; she realized that he was actually listening to the music and moving with it. What he was doing was too harsh to be called graceful, but too coordinated to be called indiscriminate. It was more than just attractive - his movements were beautiful, she realized. Quistis swallowed, feeling a sudden surge of jealousy. She wanted to
be Zell at that moment; to feel what he was feeling, to tap into whatever source that made him able to forget the rest of the world and just
move that way.
Quistis realized she was thinking of
moving with Zell perhaps a little too hard. Exhaling heavily, she set herself to her own attempts at dancing, trying to copy her cues from Zell while shuffling her feet clumsily across the floor. She bumped into someone on her right, who pushed back, jostling her inadvertently into another club-goer on her left. A very male club-goer who instantly began trying to - the only word she could describe it as would be
grind - against her. Disgusted, she twisted violently out of her unexpected partner's grip and spun around, more than ready to tell Zell to stuff his club, drinks, and all this dancing and storm right out of the place. Instead, she found herself falling into Zell's arms.
They both froze, surprised at their unexpected collision. Then Zell gave her his quirky half-grin and began to move again, this time keeping his arms around her. "C'mon, it ain't that hard," he said, encouraging her as he planted his hands firmly on the swell of her hips, his grip tight but not uncomfortable. Quistis was inclined to disagree with him; pressed up against Zell as she was, she found almost everything to be most satisfyingly
hard. Blushing, she tried to steer her thoughts out of the gutter they seemed to want to drown in and attempted to follow his lead. It was easier, she realized somewhat numbly, when his hands were on her hips, guiding their motion. She tried not to think about the proximity of his body against hers or the position of his legs as she swayed against him;
this is just about dancing, Quistis told herself sternly. Zell pressed in even closer, and Quistis closed her eyes in desperation. What had he said?
Just move?
The music swelled, and helplessly, Quistis' eyes fluttered as her body involuntarily relaxed. She was beginning to hear it now, the pulse Zell was following that was being carried by the rich bass. Or was it the pounding of her own blood in her ears? Either way, it didn't matter; it felt like she was channeling an electric current through her entire body, and the only thing grounding her were Zell's hands. The more she felt it, the more she needed to move. Her arms began to rise of their own accord; they hovered, hesitantly, at Zell's side before she shut her eyes once more and raised them above her head. She'd never really felt this - relaxed, and yet
invigorated, letting loose like this and just surrendering. Quistis Trepe did not give up control - and apparently, she'd been missing out. She felt strangely exhilarated; Zell leaned in, his breath hot against her neck.
"That's the way," Zell murmured, his voice husky as his grip on her hips loosened. "Jus' keep on doin' that, Quisty..." Quistis let out an inarticulate sigh of protest at the loss of contact, before sucking in her breath sharply. He hadn't let her go completely after all; instead, he was tracing his fingertips rapidly up and down her sides. Though his touch was feather-light, it felt like he was leaving a blistering trail that burned all the way through her clothes and directly into her skin itself. She twitched and shivered, pressing herself more fully against him in an attempt to dull the almost painful sensations that were inundating her body. Instead, the contact between them sent her already sensitized nerves into overdrive; he was pressed fully against her, their swaying creating a delicious friction that burned straight through her chest and blazed a path down into her belly before finally pooling into an almost uncomfortable warmth between her legs.
Zell, for his part, couldn't even begin to describe when he had lost control of the situation. Probably from the moment Quistis threw herself into his arms. Or maybe it was when he had downed that beer. Or as early as when she had been scrutinizing him in his room with that intense expression on her face. Hell, he'd probably been on his way to losing control of the situation from the moment he realized Quistis was a woman and not just a machine way back at the beginning. And as she rubbed up against him so tightly that he could feel every curve of her body, he could definitely vouch for the fact that she was most certainly one-hundred-percent woman. One that he could no longer ignore, not when she was moving against him like
that. He let out an involuntary groan as his groin tightened, and Quistis' eyes flew open in shock.
She was flushed, her eyes bright with excitement, and her breath was coming in short pants. Her hair was slightly mussed, and her mouth flew open. "Zell? Are you -" was all she managed to gasp out before he crushed his mouth against hers, silencing her question brutally. He felt her stiffen in surprise, but there was no going back now. If she didn't return his kiss, he was gonna have to go into a Limit Break right there on the dance floor. He began to panic slightly as she remained uncomfortably stiff for the first few seconds; he pushed his tongue into her mouth clumsily, his mind absently registering that he actually
could still taste the heady mix of strawberries and tequila on her. And then - for lack of a better word, she
melted into him, and for a split second there was no club, no music, no crowd, nobody else except Quistis, pressed tightly into him and
kissing him back.
Zell pulled away from Quistis long enough to mumble
"Thank you, Hyne," against her cheek, eliciting an unexpectedly provocative giggle from her. He dove eagerly for her mouth once more as her arms circled around his neck, and she met him willingly, her lips already parting in acceptance as she pushed her hips against him.
Had either Quistis or Zell been somewhat less distracted, they might have been more aware of their surroundings, perhaps a little more cautious or, to say the least, reserved. As it was, when Irvine caught sight of them, Quistis' hands were threaded tightly through Zell's hair and Zell's hand was already hooking under the back of her thigh to hoist her leg around his waist.
That lucky dog's been holdin' out on me, was the first thing Irvine thought to himself. His second thought was to dearly wish that he had brought the camcorder with him - both Zell and Quistis would owe him a lifetime of favors if he had managed to catch this - and his final thought was that he had to prevent his meddling Sefie from seeing their graphic display at all costs. With that in mind, he quickly spun Selphie away from the dangerous sight and swooped in for an inspired kiss of his own. Well, Zell couldn't be the
only one having all the fun on the dance floor, could he?
"Wow, Irvy!" Selphie breathed when he came up for air, her eyes glassy with surprise. "Where'd that come from?"
"Just wanted to show you some lovin', darlin'," Irvine drawled lazily. "Besides, I think it's your turn to get the drinks, an' I wanted to give you a little ...motivation." He gave her a saucy wink.
Selphie's smile dropped into a cute pout as she narrowed her eyes. "You're such a manipulator," she grumbled at him as she stomped off towards the bar.
"It works, doesn't it?" he called after her, garnering him a scrunched up face and a stuck-out tongue as a response. As soon as she had turned away, though, Irvine made a beeline across the dance floor and stopped directly in front of Zell and Quistis, who still hadn't noticed him. Probably because he was in his dress SeeD uniform, a rarity for someone as laid back as himself. Or maybe because they were too busy tonsil wrestling to notice him. He cleared his throat loudly.
"Imagine seein' the two of you here
like this," he drawled. That got their attention. Quistis and Zell few apart, both turning bright red. It really was amusing, he noted, how easily blondes showed off their blushes. Even under the spotty lighting in the club, it looked like the both of them were sunburned. "No need to be shy, you two," Irvine said with a wink and a grin. "I'm here with Selphie myself," he added subtly.
Quistis got the message instantly, going from flushed to pale in a matter of seconds. "Selphie's here? Did she see us?" she blurted out, a note of panic in her voice. One which made Zell's head whip around as he stared at Quistis. Then he flinched and looked away.
"Naw, you're good," Irvine replied, eyeing Zell warily. The blonde in question looked like he was ready to punch something. Probably himself. Well, that wasn't good.
"Irvy? Irvy, where'd you go?" Selphie was shouldering her way through the crowd, two drinks in hand. She smiled as she caught sight of the small group, giving a little wave towards them and splashing some beer over herself in the process. "Oh, hey Zell! What're you doing here, I thought you were on a mission with... QUISTIS?" Selphie's mouth dropped, but Irvine saved the drinks before they could hit the floor. "Quisty? Is that really you? I mean it looks like you, but what're
you doing here?"
Quistis' mouth opened and closed silently, still completely off balance and unable to come up with her voice, let alone an explanation.
"I mean," Selphie continued incredulously, "I've been trying to get you to come out to this club with Rinny and me for like, forever, and now you just show up on your own? That's so unfair!" Storm clouds were beginning to form over the short girl's head, and Quistis moved quickly to placate her.
"I didn't come here on my own!" Quistis explained hastily, and then bit her lip.
Selphie's eyes grew round as she finally took in Zell's red face. "You mean you two are still on that mission together. So you're here on a mission?" Selphie squealed. "No way! Why don't we ever get missions like that, Irvy?"
"We're not here as part of the mission," Quistis reluctantly admitted, her arms crossing defensively in front of her chest. "Yes," she said tiredly as Selphie's jaw began to work soundlessly. "I, Quistis Trepe, am playing hooky. You caught me red-handed. I'd be grateful if you wouldn't mention it to Squall. Or anyone else, for that matter," she added, giving Selphie a cool look. Professional Quistis Trepe was back in place, and quickly regaining her footing, it seemed.
"But if you're not on a mission, that mean's you're here with..." Selphie trailed off and stared at Zell, who had been uncharacteristically silent during the entire exchange. He looked up from the floor, his eyes bright and angry.
"She ain't with me," he ground out fiercely. This time Quistis was the one who started, her eyes moving to Zell, who refused to meet her gaze. "I, uh," he said suddenly, the tension draining out of him. It was no use getting angry... he already knew he wasn't good enough for Quistis before anything had even started. Nobody was. But he had pushed, and pushed, and gotten her drunk and then practically mauled her in public. No wonder she didn't want to be caught hanging out with someone like him, let alone messing around on a dance floor. Well... the least he could do was try to make this painless for her. But it stung, and in more ways than one. That kiss had just been starting to get
interesting when Irvine broke them up. He groaned mentally and tried to push the feel of Quistis' body pressed up against him out of his mind. "I mean she is, just not like ya think," he fumbled.
"Oh yeah?" Irvine said, his smile widening. "Tell us how it is, then."
"Yeah, tell us," Selphie repeated, her frown deepening.
"Guys, I don't think -" Quistis started, but Zell shook his head.
"I dragged Quisty out here. Told her I wanted to show her this place, y'know, 'cause I helped make it an' all. She didn't wanna come with me, though. Honest!" he said, lifting his hands and forcing what he hoped was a typical carefree Dincht smile onto his face. "I practically had to carry her out here just to get her to come," he added for emphasis.
"I'll say," Irvine replied dryly. He considered himself an expert at reading body language - came with the territory, y'know - and Zell and Quistis were both broadcasting messages that covered the full range of
awkward. "Hey buddy, how 'bout you and I go get a beer?" He casually hooked an arm around Zell's neck and - more forcefully than usual - pulled him away.
"But -" Quistis started to protest, her eyes still locked on Zell, who was studiously avoiding her gaze.
"But -" Selphie echoed, holding up her two drinks in a futile gesture. She shrugged. "Guess these are ours, then, Quisty." She handed over one beer and watched suspiciously as Quistis took a long and grateful pull from the glass. "It's alright, though," Selphie said, smiling innocently at her friend. "It'll give us a chance to have some girl talk."
x.x.x.
"Congratulations, buddy! I'd buy you a drink if I didn't already know you got them all free here," Irvine was saying as he pushed Zell up against the bar. He waved lazily at the bartender, shouting his order. "Hey, another beer for Zell here, looks like our resident virgin finally got lucky!"
"No more beer, Joe!" Zell yelled immediately. He figured beer was what got him into this trouble in the first place. Without it, he'd at least have had enough self-control to keep himself off of Quistis before anything happened. As it was, he'd gone farther with her in the space of a few minutes than he ever had with any other girl in his entire lifetime. The rest of which was promising to be alarmingly short, if he was interpreting her reaction correctly. "Hyne, I am so fucked," Zell mumbled, leaning on the bar and dropping his face into his palms.
"You were only just gettin' there," Irvine said with a laugh. Then he leaned against Zell, draping an arm over his shoulder. "And with Quisty, too. The Trepies are goin' to be out for your blood once they hear this."
Zell's head shot out of his hands as he gave Irvine a wild, panicked look. "Oh man! Irvine, you
gotta keep your mouth shut on this one! An' get Selphie to keep quiet too! Quisty and me, it ain't really..." He trailed off, his initial panic changing into confusion and just a little bit of angry frustration. What exactly
did this make them? It wasn't like she had been trying to push him off, after all - at least, not until Irvine and Selphie showed up. Zell turned his head slightly and glared out of the corner of his eye at Irvine. Bastard. Couldn't he have waited just a little longer to interrupt them? Like, until he and Quistis were back at Garden?
Irvine was oblivious to the sudden dark glare, still grinning widely and thumping Zell on the back. "You two can thank me later," he said, and Zell's fists clenched against the counter.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Zell suddenly roared, turning and grabbing Irvine by the front of his uniform. "You think
you did this, or somethin'? I can't get a girl like Quisty on my own, huh?" As the words came out of his mouth, he winced at the truth in them, which only made his grip on Irvine's jacket tighten spastically. "Or you don't think I'm good enough for Quisty, neither?"
"Whoa, man, cool down!" Irvine yelled, grabbing at Zell's fingers and gingerly trying to pry him off of his jacket. He only had one dress uniform, after all, and no amount of kissing was going to convince Selphie to sew the buttons back on for him if Zell ripped them off now. "Nobody said anything about that. Besides, it's not me you gotta worry about, it's Sefie! You know how she and Rinny have been plannin' Quistis' dates for months now. I gather they aren't too happy with you movin' in on their territory."
"Their territory?" Zell repeated, releasing Irvine's shirt in reluctant surprise. "But Quisty's
mine!" he protested vehemently, and then groaned and dropped his head onto the bar. He didn't just say that out loud, did he?
"So you two really ARE -"
"We're NOT," Zell ground out, slamming his fist against the bar's countertop so solidly that it cracked and a few of the bowls of mixed nuts leapt into the air.
Irvine frowned, rubbing his chin. "No, I reckon you're not," he finally said, eyeing the splintered bar. "You got too much pent-up frustration to be gettin' any. Huh, so Quisty really is frigid? She didn't look it back there..." He choked as Zell's hand materialized around his shirt front once more.
"Irvine," Zell growled in warning, glowering.
"Oww, hey, watch the chest hair!" Irvine winced, shaking himself free of Zell's tight grip. "Well, that answers that," he added, taking a long draught from his beer and seemingly unconcerned by Zell's murderous glare. He smacked his lips and sighed deeply. "Zell, buddy, I hate to break it to you, but you're in love."
In love? With Quistis?
What? "I am not!" he answered reflexively.
"You're in denial, too. Hoo-ee," Irvine whistled, shaking his head. "If you're this bad, I bet Quisty's even worse."
"Don't you talk about Quisty!" Zell yelled, also reflexively.
"See? Love," Irvine replied calmly, sipping at his beer. "I'll be honest, when you two started all this, I didn't think it was serious. Thought you guys were just havin' a fling or something, or maybe you were tryin' to help Quisty get over that thing she had for Squall. But..." He trailed off and gave Zell a critical glance. "You ain't like me, and Quisty definitely isn't like my Sefie," he observed. "You guys don't swap spit with
anybody 'less you mean it." He shook his head in disbelief. "Wow. You and Quistis. Sure didn't see that one comin'. Well, welcome to the club," he added as an afterthought.
"Quisty still likes Squall?" Zell repeated numbly, still trying to filter through everything Irvine was throwing at him. His mind had stopped processing the words coherently at the mention of love.
"No, I'd say she likes someone else now," Irvine replied with a smirk. "Seriously, man. How dense are you? She practically had her tongue down your throat. Maybe more than that if I hadn't stopped you." The smirk widened. "Oh, and since you're both new at this, lemmie be the first to tell you: next time, get a room."
Zell ducked his head towards the bar, his face flaming. Oh, man. If Irvine was teasing him about it, it
must've been bad. He couldn't help it, though; when Quistis started kissing him, he just forgot about everything else except her. It wasn't like he had all that much experience doing it before; for Hyne's sake, that was pretty much his first kiss, if you didn't go around counting that bet he lost to Seifer five years ago. And this kiss was definitely a lot more pleasant. Just thinking about it was making him feel uncomfortably warm as a distracted grin spread across his face.
"Oh yeah, he's got it bad," Irvine mumbled to himself over the rim of his mug. "Hey. Earth to Zell. You there, man?"
Zell blinked and started. "Oh, uh, yeah. What?"
"So what're you gonna do about the others?"
"Others? What others?" Zell repeated dumbly. Then he scowled. "You mean the Trepies?"
"No, stupid," Irvine sighed turning around and splaying against the bar lazily as his eyes tracked a few of the more scantily clad girls shimmying across the dance floor. "Rinoa and Selphie. And what's-her-name. Y'know, that library chick you used to like. Have you been hearin' a word I said?"
"Nope," Zell admitted, though he was calming down enough to regain his basic motor skills. He turned around and instinctively started scanning the crowd for Quistis' crown of golden hair. The club really could be a rough place for newbies; he was feeling a little antsy at having left her alone. After a moment he spotted her, backed up against a corner table with Selphie. It looked like the smaller brunette was in the process of interrogating her thoroughly. He flushed slightly and wondered what Quistis was saying about him, drooping a little when he realized that it probably wasn't going to be complimentary.
"Listen, Irvy. I know what you're thinkin' an' what it looked like an' all, but there is no Quisty an' me. Tonight - that whole thing - that was all one big accident, man. Quisty doesn't like me like that. You saw how she was when Selphie came over."
Irvine remained silent for a few moments. Then, quietly, "But
you like
her."
Zell's breath hitched as Quistis glanced up from her argument with Selphie. Their eyes met, and he felt a prickly chill run down his spine. She looked away quickly, and he let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. "... yeah," he admitted in defeat. Then: "I really
am fucked, ain't I?"
Irvine frowned thoughtfully. "I dunno about that. If anyone can get Quisty over her hang-ups, I guess it'd be you. Hyne knows Selphie and Rinoa haven't been able to." He paused and let out a low chuckle. "Though Squall is gonna toast both of your asses if he finds out you've been screwing off during the mission. Nice work bringin' in Fujin, by the way. Squall only looked like he was gonna burst one vein this time instead of two."
Zell felt the pit of his stomach drop. Well, maybe some things could be worse than a rejection by Quistis. He guessed Squall's reaming when they got back to Garden would be a close one, at least.
"So are you going to tell me what's going on or what?" Selphie glared at Quistis, the steam practically rising from her head.
"There's nothing going on," Quistis said firmly, meeting Selphie's nonplussed glare directly. There were benefits to being the reigning Triple Triad queen, and bluffing was one of them.
"Something's up," Selphie stated, taking a long sip of her own drink and ticking the signs off on her fingers. "You're out late at night - you're in a club - you're supposed to be on a mission - and you're out with
Zell." She waggled the fingers at Quistis. "If I didn't recognize you, I'd really just say it couldn't be you at all."
Quistis delayed a response by taking the last sip of her drink - wait,
last? Had she really finished the whole beer? Her face was a little flushed, but she didn't really think it was from the alcohol. "I don't see what the problem is," she said coolly. "After all, you and Irvine are here,
after curfew, just like Zell and I."
"I know!" Selphie exclaimed. "It's just so - unlike you! I mean, all those times Rin and I tried to drag you here..." She shot Quistis a strangely cunning glare. "And you told that
stunningly attractive DJ that you wouldn't be caught dead in a club. So what, you'll come here with
Zell, but not on a
date? And not with us girls?" Selphie took a sip of her beer, and then sputtered excitedly: "But wait, I think he's here tonight! He always does the SeeD theme nights at the club, that's why Rin and I picked him in the first place! I bet he's at the table in the back right now! So if you're already here, and free, c'mon, why don't we go meet him?"
Quistis opened her mouth to make what she realized would only be another empty protest. But - much to her surprise, she wasn't feeling apologetic or even complacent: she was, in all honesty, feeling angry. Selphie's words, like the proverbial straw that broke the chocobo's back, had clearly summed up her latest failure: despite her ridiculously harlot-ish behavior on the dance floor, she
wasn't here with Zell on a date. She couldn't even get a date when she
wanted one. The best kiss she'd ever had was from a guy so desperate to date another girl that he'd - Quistis froze, a new realization coming to her. Had Zell been
practicing on her? Was he just practicing his kissing technique so he could blow Piggy off her feet on their first date? Her heart sank. Was Zell just using this as another lesson? Using
her?
Her head spun. The more she thought about the entire situation, the angrier she got. Maybe it was the alcohol; maybe it was the whole-hearted sense of failure that had been trailing around after her ever since Ma Dincht had first smiled at them this morning. Maybe it was both.
"Selphie, no. I'm
done." Quistis set her empty glass down more firmly than she'd meant; the bottom of the glass splintered into shards, a spider web of cracks climbing the sides.
Selphie's eyes widened. Quistis turned on her, feeling the room spin around her slightly and blatantly ignoring it. "I'm done with the blind dates. I'm done with you and Rinoa trying to set me up. I'm through with all these Trepies that you two
insist I'll find true happiness with so that I can be just as
blissfully in love as you and Irvine or Rinoa and Squall." She swallowed hastily. "You two need to stop meddling in my life and leave it alone. I'm sick of it. What I do with my life is, frankly, none of your business."
Selphie put her hands up in defense. "Quisty, I'm just trying to help. What's the harm in meeting a nice guy?"
"What's the harm?" Quistis snapped. "Selphie Tilmitt, I will have you know: I'm having more fun here tonight with Zell than I've ever had on any one of your - or Rinoa's - so-called
perfect dates."
As soon as the words had left her mouth, she realized they were true. Quistis took a long breath and filed that thought away for future reference, because she certainly didn't want to think about it at that particular moment. Nor did she really want Selphie to realize what she'd just so stupidly admitted. "Come on, Selphie," she continued hastily, "would
you want to date a Trepie?"
Selphie winced. "Yes," said Quistis, realizing she'd finally hit on something. "Would you want to date some slobbering guy who knows all of your Training Center stats by heart and probably sleeps with your Triple Triad card?" She took another deep breath; apparently that last beer had gone to her head quickly and was now getting along fabulously with the tequila she'd previously downed. "You've got Irvine, true, and you guys are great together. But you and Irvine found each other. I'm not going to find an - an Irvine - by filing through Trepies one-by-one. I'm not going to find
anything if you and Rinoa keep picking guys for me based on availability alone."
Selphie looked as if she were contemplating actually dating a Trepie (or, perhaps, a "Tilmie"). She also looked as if she were going to be ill. "I - I guess you're right, Quisty," she said thickly. "I don't think I'd really want to date someone like that." She sighed. "Look. Rin and I were just trying to - to do you a favor. There were so many guys out there who wanted to date you - we figured one of them had to be nice."
Selphie looked honestly hurt; Quistis couldn't exactly bring herself to feel bad about her outburst, but she did want to make her friend feel better. "If you're going to do me a favor, then make it a different one. Let's go out some time. I mean it," she said as Selphie's gaze jerked up from the floor and landed on her face. "I - Zell dragged me out here tonight, and despite my best efforts, I'm enjoying myself. I feel bad for turning you and Rinoa away so often. I'd like to go and hang out sometime." She chuckled. "I guess I do need to get out of Garden and lighten up occasionally."
Selphie shook her head sadly, but the twinkle was slowly returning to her eyes. "I'm sorry, Quisty," she admitted. "I guess we weren't really thinking."
"It's alright," Quistis admonished firmly, "as long as it's over, starting right now." There was a pause, and then Selphie threw her arms around her taller friend. Bemused, Quistis hugged her back. It felt good to have Selphie back on her side. And it
had been a very long day.
"So," Selphie began, the cheerful deviant look back in her eyes, "there's really nothing going on between you and Zell? Hey," she said, raising her hands in defense once again. "I don't mean it in the nosy sort of way. I just - I thought he was dating that girl in the library, y'know? What's her name?"
Quistis' heart sank. "You mean Piggy?" she asked instinctively, almost snapping as she said it. The name had never suited the girl better, and she realized belatedly that she'd said it like the worst kind of insult. "Sue," she corrected herself hastily. "The one with the pigtail." Inwardly, she sighed.
This was completely inappropriate: Piggy -
Sue - was a student of hers, and she couldn't even say the girl's name without getting an odd tense feeling in her chest: how would she ever be able to grade a paper fairly again?
"Yeah," Selphie said. "I thought they were ...?"
"Yes, the library girl." Quistis sighed. "Look, Zell is - Zell wants to date her." Even saying the words made something clench up in the general area of her heart. "I've been - he asked me for help, thanks to all the dates I've been on."
Selphie's eyes went wide. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "So the dinner date thing, and the - oh, so you were just helping him!" She grinned. "Quisty, that's so nice of you."
"Yes," Quistis said lamely, hoping the disappointment didn't show on her face. "Nice."
"I mean," Selphie chattered on, "you and Zell were never really close during the whole - thing - so it's totally awesome that you guys are getting to be friends now! And I bet he needs tons of help." She laughed. "Man, we kinda thought you guys were dating, like
real dating!"
Quistis bit her lip, not really knowing what to say. "No," she said finally, "nothing like that."
"Booyaka!" Selphie said suddenly, "Irvy's finally got a table. Gee, I'm glad Zell's here - he's so famous in this place, we can always get a spot to sit when he's around!" She turned and gave Quistis a wink. "Quisty, I promise I'll be better. Now, c'mon, let's go have some fun!"
Quistis let Selphie lead her back to the table. The petite girl dove almost head-first into Irvine's waiting lap; Quistis primly took a seat beside Zell. Her eyes flicked up to his, then away. He looked... she didn't really know how he looked. An awkward silence descended as Selphie and Irvine greeted each other rather enthusiastically. Quistis bit her lip. She didn't really know how she felt either. And, she decided firmly, this was ridiculous. Despite Ma Dincht's assumptions about her age, they were both adults. They should be able to talk about this like adults. Besides,
anything would be better than staying here to listen to the wet, suckling sounds Irvine and Selphie were making with each other.
"It's okay," she said suddenly. "Zell and I should head back." As she expected, Zell's head snapped around to face her, almost comically. "His Ma might be waiting up for us," she explained. "We're, er, we're staying there tonight as part of the mission." She stood up, meeting Zell's eyes clearly for the first time. Her stomach twisted a little - not an unpleasant feeling, but an unexpected one. "We - er." She cleared her throat. "Let's just keep this night between the four of us for now, alright?"
Selphie and Irvine, who were apparently distracted by the force of their lip-lock, nodded absently.
"Uh, see you guys," Zell said as he stood. Some nervous sort of feeling was crawling around in his gut like he'd swallowed a couple Bite Bugs. Quistis looked serious, and it wasn't even her stern Instructor-y seriousness; it looked
real. As he silently followed her through the club, he couldn't get Irvine's words out of his head. Nah, there was no way. Right?
As they came up the stairs from
My Final Heaven, Quistis paused, and then turned the wrong way. He'd forgotten she'd never been down here before. "Uh, Quisty?" Zell said tentatively. "My house is that way."
"I know." A small ghost of a smile graced her lips. "Let's take a walk on the beach."
Zell nodded, swallowing. Part of him was panicking, a little: this looked like Quistis wanted to talk, and he wasn't really sure what to say or do and
oh, man, he was so
bad with girls, he was
totally going to screw this up. Another part of him was still reliving that kiss on the dance floor, this time in very clear, high definition hindsight that wished Irvine Kinneas had never showed up. A third, even smaller part of him was remembering suddenly and pointedly how nice the beach in Balamb always was at night, with the gentle lights of the town reflecting off the water and all the stars up above - it would make a really nice place to walk with a girl, holding hands, maybe kissing a bit if...
Dammit! Zell groaned aloud and shook his head. He'd been so distracted by his thoughts that he'd blindly followed Quistis to the beach without even noticing. They were walking along the shore in silence, the gentle sound of the waves almost automatically soothing his mind.
Quistis turned her head to him slightly at the sound. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, totally!" Zell said hastily, and then - "No," he admitted. "Maybe? I don't know." He didn't really want Quisty to think he didn't want to be out here, so he added for good measure: "I was just... thinkin'."
Quistis laughed. It wasn't exactly a
ha-ha sort of laugh. "I think," she said slowly, "that this is a little ridiculous. What's going on here?"
The waves continued to roll in. Somewhere behind them, someone's wild laughter echoed over the waters.
"I'm sorry, Quisty," Zell said suddenly, all in a rush. He hated silences on principle, and this one was just too tense for his liking. "I - I really didn't mean to, it was just the club 'n stuff, and with you dancin' an' all..." He swallowed as another flash of Quistis, pressed up against him, flew through his mind. "I - I ain't ever seen you dance before. Not like that."
Quistis laughed involuntarily, and this time it was a real laugh. "I've certainly never danced like that before, Zell," she pointed out, her voice almost flirtatious. Then she realized what she'd said and clamped her lips shut in surprise. The tension descended once again.
"I'm not sayin' you have, Quisty," Zell said. "I'm just sayin'... look, I'm sorry. I'm real sorry. It was just stupid, an' I -"
"You don't have to be sorry, Zell." Quistis was scrutinizing the sand at her feet; her step slowed until she was standing still, her eyes on the ground. "You don't have to be sorry," she repeated.
Zell turned to look at her, confused. "Whaddaya mean?" he asked bluntly, too surprised to think about what he was saying. "Of course I do, I practically - well, we almost -
y'know - on the dance floor there, an' everybody could've seen if they were watchin', an'-"
"Zell." Now Quistis was looking at the ocean. "I'm not talking about your - choice of venue." There was a long pause, and Zell watched as Quistis fisted both her hands and swallowed, hard. "It was nice."
"Wha?" He took an inadvertent step towards her in surprise. "I mean, yeah, it was pretty awesome, but -" She still wouldn't look at him. "You ain't - mad at me or nothin'?"
Quistis looked up then, and the look in her eyes should've given Zell a warning. She took two brisk steps across the soft sand of the beach, grabbed Zell's shirt in both her fists, and pulled his lips down to meet hers. Zell's mind went blissfully blank with surprise as he felt Quistis' soft lips under his. His arms wrapped around her of their own accord, one closing around her waist and pulling her flush against him while the other hand buried itself in her hair, fumbling slightly as his fingers snagged on her hair clip. Quistis sighed, her lips parting beneath his, and he tentatively flicked his tongue against hers again. She pulled him closer, her fists still clutching his shirt; he felt her surprisingly delicate tongue moving almost uncertainly against his. He groaned aloud as that same rush of heat made its way through his body and moved downward. Hyne, it felt like his body was on fire.
He broke away slowly, opening his eyes. Quistis' face was flushed, her lips still parted slightly. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, coming to land on Zell's face. Her hands released his shirt suddenly; she bit her lip, her eyebrows creasing into something that looked like concern.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice breathy.
Zell choked on a laugh as it surfaced. "Huh?" Out of all the things he'd expected from Quistis Trepe - anything out of the blue, even - that was probably the last one on the list. Well, he thought dimly, at least she wasn't mad at him.
Quistis looked away. Even in the dusky light, Zell could tell she was blushing. "I shouldn't have done that. I interrupted you."
"Wait a sec." Zell reached a hand out to cup Quistis' face, turning her gaze back upright to meet his own. "What're you sayin', Quisty - I, uh ..." He'd kind of lost the ability to string together a coherent sentence when Quistis was looking at him like that, with her eyes shining and her cheeks tinted pink. "Shit. I kinda - I kinda like it," he admitted, the words tumbling over his tongue before he could even think about them. He hadn't felt this much like a tongue-tied pre-teen since ...well, since at
least last week.
Quistis gave him a small, tentative smile, and he realized she was probably just as nervous as he. "Well," she said, straightening her shoulders a little. "What do you propose we do about it?"
Continue where we left off, his brain (and other parts) replied almost instantly. Instead, Zell dropped his hand and gave a nervous chuckle. "I, uh," he began awkwardly. "I mean - d'you like me? Like,
like like me?"
Oh, real smart there, Zell. "Or d'ya just ... is it just 'cause we're ... y'know, spendin' time together, and stuff." She hadn't really said anything, so he felt the need to add something to help her out. "'Cause I, uh ... well, it feels like we like each other," he said helpfully.
Quistis shook her head delicately, taking a small step away from Zell. "What about - what about Piggy?" she asked softly.
Zell's heart plummeted into his feet. He'd
totally forgotten about Piggy. She'd been the start of this whole fiasco - in a sense, she'd been what had brought him and Quisty together in the first place. Well, her and Seifer, and a whole lot of toilet paper. Zell sighed, his stomach churning nervously. What
about Piggy? She'd been the ideal girl for so long - so how had he suddenly forgotten her? Man, he sucked at relationships. He didn't even
have one and he was already cheating on it with another woman.
Or was he? Quistis was standing there, looking sad and understanding at the same time. He'd never even really ... talked to Piggy. He'd certainly never joked around with her, or had her make him an awful dinner, or punched her in the gut to call up her Limit Break. He'd never kissed her, either, nor had he fantasized about her in his room. (Okay, maybe once.) Why was Quistis so much ... more? He didn't get it. With a loud, exaggerated groan, Zell spun away from Quistis and let himself fall backwards carelessly. He landed with a whump into the soft sand, spreading his arms wide and staring up into the dark sky, peppered with stars. A few of the bushes further up the shore rustled loudly, and Zell turned and squinted at them curiously. It was too dark to really make out anything other than black blobs against the sky, so he shrugged and forgot about it, falling back against the sand.
Prob'ly just some animals anyway, he thought absently. He let his eyes fall shut and wriggled slightly against the sand; it was refreshingly cool against his hot, flushed skin.
"Zell?" Quistis' voice sounded mildly confused. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just..." he trailed off, thinking to himself. Could he really answer that question?
Sure, he thought immediately. He was lying on the beach, looking at the stars, and trying to deal with the fact that he really was falling in love with Quistis Trepe.
Whoa, what? He turned his head to study her - she looked so cool and collected, standing there in the moonlight, her arms crossed and her face covered with half-shadows. He thought about Piggy, briefly, trying to remember the way she had made him feel, how she might look in Quistis' stead - and quickly gave up. No one could stand in Quistis' place except Quistis herself. This...
whatever he was feeling for Quistis, this was different from what he felt for Piggy. This was
real. His head was still reeling a little from the notion, and it wasn't from the alcohol. He hadn't drunk that much, really; it was Quistis herself who was intoxicating him with her presence, making his thoughts run haphazardly into each other, melting into a confusing blur. One that only started coming into focus when he considered Irvine's words. It was the only answer that made any sense. He'd been decked by
love, the other four-letter word.
Quistis, for one, had noticed how crestfallen Zell had looked when she mentioned Piggy. And that was what did it for her. No matter how badly she wanted to throw Zell down into the sand, he was still off-limits. She only wished that he would stop making it so difficult to resist him. It really didn't help that he had thrown
himself into the sand at her feet. "Perhaps that was a little unfair of me. I - I think we're both not ready for the answer to that question." She pressed her lips together and tried to remind herself that this was all for the best, as Zell immediately looked to her, his mouth already opening.
"Whaddaya mean, we ain't ready -" The slightly wounded tone to his protest spurred Quistis to cut him off quickly.
"This isn't just about you. It isn't about me, either," she added quickly. "It's - there's the mission to consider, for one. It's a lot of things."
Even in the darkness, she could feel Zell's eyes boring into her, full of his usual blunt honesty. "No it ain't, Quisty. It's 'bout you an' me, and you know it." She heard the sand rustle as he shifted, and then he spoke again. "I like you, Quisty. I mean, yeah, I liked Piggy, too, but it's... different with you." He shuffled slightly, and Quistis realized suddenly that he was reaching for her ankle. His hand closed around her boot and tugged at it gently, beckoning her to join him.
This is a bad idea, Quistis thought to herself firmly even as she settled carefully against the ground next to Zell. Still, maybe he was on to something. The sand really did feel nice against her bare arms, and the gentle crash of the waves nearby was already easing the tension out of her shoulders. She gradually lay back and stared into the sky, blinking at the multitude of stars that were watching them. She spread her fingers out and shivered slightly as they brushed against Zell's own. Rather than shrinking away, however, his hand snaked over and grasped hers firmly, entwining their fingers together in a tight grip. Feeling slightly breathless and uneasy, Quistis forced the air out from her unwilling throat. "I'm different?" she repeated quietly.
"I don't really know Piggy," Zell admitted, giving her hand a light squeeze. "Not like I
know you."
Quistis grew still, feeling her heart pound loudly against her ribcage. Her eyes were wide and just a little bit frightened as she considered Zell's words. Strangely, they were more intimate than even their rather heady first kiss inside the club. Quistis didn't like to let anyone get close - doing that only opened yourself up for new ways to be hurt, as she had learned the hard way. So how in Hyne's name had Zell managed to worm his way in past her defenses? He was telling the truth - he
did know her better than anyone else. She didn't want Zell to be where he was - in some way, she was hoping Zell would turn away from her and go back to his
Piggy. Hadn't she learned her lesson about keeping her walls up? She wasn't sure she'd be able to recover this time - nothing to blame except her own stupid,
stupid behavior.
Quistis lay very still, feeling terribly exposed and foolish and
weak, flinching when she heard Zell open his mouth once again.
"I never had a better day in my whole life, Quisty."
Something in her heart unclenched, and reflexively, her hand squeezed his back. And then, Zell rolled over, sending bits of sand flying everywhere. He was holding himself over her, his face too near and his body too warm, robbing her of the ability to dwell on her fears. She couldn't see the stars anymore; he blocked them completely, shadowing everything in darkness. Quistis had a sudden, intense feeling of vertigo, starting instinctively as her arms reached for him.
Their lips met, and this time was less panicked and desperate; there was a moment of clumsiness as they fumbled in the darkness, and then Zell was kissing her, moving his lips softly against hers in a wordless, formless question.
Do you feel it, too?
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to lose herself in the kiss. But it wasn't nearly strained enough to rob her of her thoughts. She hesitated, but he was relentless, holding her down, daring her to twist away, to give him some signal to back off and leave her alone - and safe.
I...
Do you? he asked, his kiss gradually becoming more demanding, his body drawing closer to hers.
I... She couldn't pull away from him, Hyne curse her and her stupid, idiot heart, when safety was just one word away, when one subtle motion was all it would take to secure herself before all her bridges burned. But she couldn't pull away.
I -
His question, and her answer, were rudely interrupted by a sudden spray of cool water. Zell pulled away, nearly yelling in shock, and rolled off of her. Quistis lay there, panting, for a few moments, before she realized that her ankles were chilled - and her boots were soaking wet. Sitting up, she scrambled away from the incoming tide, the night air suddenly cool enough to raise goose bumps on her arms.
"Damn... sorry, Quisty," Zell grumbled, wiping the water from his skin. Then he looked up at her, his teeth gleaming brightly in the moonlight as he grinned. He laughed. "Shit, I'm soaked."
He can smile after that? Quistis wondered, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She cleared her throat uneasily, unsure of what to say, of what exactly had just happened, and struggled for her bearings. "Maybe we should take this indoors," she murmured softly. Then she flushed brilliantly. "I mean -"
"Naw, s'alright," Zell said, bouncing to his feet. He seemed... happier, than he had before, despite the evening's lack of resolution or answers. Her heart skipped a bit painfully in her chest, and she forced herself to look away. "We should get back home," he told her, offering her a hand and helping her to her feet.
"Zell," Quistis said, carefully dusting herself off and trying to avoid his gaze, "About tonight..."
"I mean it," he replied immediately. "Best night of my life." Then he paused, tilting his head, and gave her that smile, again. "Stop thinkin' so much about it, Quisty. Let's just go home."
Quistis sucked in her breath and collected herself, giving Zell a faint nod. Yes. Home. That sounded like a good idea. Although she had no idea how in Eden's seven hells she was supposed to get a good night's sleep in Zell's bed. Alone. She continued to brush miniscule particles of sand from her skirt, breathing evenly as she manhandled most of her composure back where it belonged. Once everything internal had settled back into place, she looked up again.
Zell was standing there, his hand extended. Her breath caught again, even at something so simple.
He doesn't really know what he's asking, Quistis thought, pausing as she looked at it. Holding hands was a simple, straightforward thing, right? No promises, no opening of doors, just the simple comfort of touch. Even that was hard; Zell had touched her more today than probably anyone else in her entire life - excepting perhaps Doctor Kadowaki, although clinical exams weren't anywhere close to whatever she and Zell had been doing tonight. But she'd never been the hugging, cuddling, touchy-feely sort. She hadn't even held hands with her foster mother.
And suddenly, Quistis
needed this: needed someone who
wanted to touch her, someone who
liked having her around. She reached out, slowly, her fingers closing around Zell's. He grinned, rearranging his grip so that their fingers were somewhat awkwardly intertwined, and turned to lead her off the beach. Quistis followed, slowly, relishing the feel of Zell's hand around hers. It still terrified her - but it was also strangely comforting.
They walked up the gravel path, noting that the lights of many of the clubs and bars had dimmed for closing. The pier looked deserted. Beside them, something rustled and grunted in the bushes; Quistis started, slightly, and then chastised herself for letting her guard drop. Seifer and Raijin were still out here, somewhere, and technically they hadn't signed out of their mission yet; see, it was obvious this whole thing with Zell was a mess -
"'Ey!" Zell yelled. "Get out of the trash!" He dropped her hand momentarily, scuffling around in the sand and stones at his feet until he picked something up - an empty bottle of Hynekan. He tossed it into the bushes; it hit the ground with a satisfying
thud. The movement stopped.
"Dire Rats get down here sometimes," he explained, turning back to Quistis with a sheepish grin. "They scrounge around for trash an' stuff left-over from all the clubs. I try an' keep 'em away so's they don't attack the folks from town." He grabbed her hand almost instinctively. "C'mon, I think this one's prob'ly gone."
"You know they make traps for that," Quistis offered as he led her back onto the Balamb streets.
Zell chuckled. "Yeah, but like - it was part of the deal with
My Final Heaven," he admitted sheepishly. "They figured if people saw me down here takin' out monsters an' shit like that, they'd be more likely to come. Makes it look safer."
"My hero," Quistis snorted, before she could help herself. The idea of Zell, Hero of Balamb, showing off over a couple one-hit monsters, amused her on some strange level.
Zell squeezed her hand, and even in the darkness she could tell he was waggling his eyebrows in that exaggerated way that always made her want to laugh. "That's the plan."
.x.x.x.
It was only once they were gone that Seifer released his firm grip on Raijin's ear.
"OWWWWW!" The large man let out a howl that would've scared any and all Dire Rats off of Balamb Island for good. "What the fuck, man! He hit me right in the eye!"
"I saw," Seifer deadpanned. "Thank Hyne you know how to keep your damn mouth shut."
"And!" Raijin turned on him, stumbling over the bushes in the darkness. "You almost tore off my entire fuckin' ear, ya know?"
Seifer sighed, a long, drawn-out sigh of patience and virtue. "That was to keep you from screaming your head off and drawing unnecessary attention. Like, for example, the attention of the Instructor and the Chicken-Wuss."
"Aw, c'mon," Raijin grumbled. "They wouldn't've seen us if we'd dropped a chocobo right on their heads."
Seifer said nothing. True, it had looked like an excellent opportunity for an ambush - until he'd realized what was going on. If there was one thing he'd learned from the Disciplinary Committee, it was that interrupting a hot and heavy make-out session usually led straight into a barrage of Limit Breaks. Not that they couldn't usually handle it - but the DC was currently a member short, and he and Raijin hadn't even fully healed yet, since they were unfortunately short on Cure spells.
"Don't you remember that one time we walked in on Alvarez and that lame freckled girl from the library? In the Secret Area?"
Raijin paused in thought. "Yeah," he said slowly, "wasn't that the first time the girl had ever done her Limit Break?" He shuddered. "I didn't even know a rod could do that kind of thing, y'know?"
"Right," Seifer said pointedly. "Did you really want to see what Trepe would've unleashed in the total frustration of not having Dincht down her trousers?"
Raijin winced. "Especially without Fujin here to heal us, ya know." He paused. "Stupid idiots. When we gonna go get her back, man? I can't take this. She had all the freaking jerky in her pocket."
Seifer said nothing. He'd just somehow realized what they'd actually been watching: Dincht and Trepe, getting a little nookie in the sand. What the
hell? Talk about most unlikely couples. Then again, they'd come out of that horrible disaster that Balamb called a club. Maybe they'd been shit-faced. He shook his head. Even drunk off his ass, he'd still know that Chicken-wuss looked nothing like Squall "Commander of Emo Belts" Leonhart. And Trepe was so cold she was probably a lesbian anyway. Wouldn't that be a right little shock the next morning.
"... an' now I have to sleep by the door," Raijin was still mumbling. "An' nobody'll kick me when I'm snoring."
Seifer stretched. It was time to hit the alleyway behind the clubs and see if any food - or more importantly, spare beer - was "available" for them to "borrow" tonight. He filed the Trepe/Chicken incident away in his brain. It would probably be useful, for blackmail anyway, or for the sake of taunting Dincht into a vicious red-faced rage before he beat the shit out of him with Hyperion.
"Interesting," he mused. "C'mon, Raijin. Nobody's gonna cook for us tonight."
![How Not To Date Blondes (Final Fantasy VIII) [COMPLETE]](/data/threadmark-index-icons/l/73/73630.jpg?1702817449){kind=icon}
