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Four Way Stop	By : itherabbit Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Het - Male/Female Views: 824 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: The usual enjoying of things that are not mine. *sigh*
This fic has been kicking around in my head for ages now. Maybe i'll actually be able to finish it. By the by, if anyone actually reads this, please comment! Reviews might be motivational, or something.
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      He stared off at the tree tops above him. Freedom had been declared his for the afternoon after his outburst in class. Perhaps not so much declared as implied. He'd been directed to cool his head in the hallway, and he decided a long walk suited him better. A smirk worked onto his face as he wiped the blood from his split lip, thinking of the older boy's bruises. There had been no acknowledged winner, and both participants were reprimanded, but the other students knew. Defeat and triumph were sensed by the eager throngs, every child mute with excitement.

      The instructors found the display of aggression irritating, and punishment would be doled out accordingly. Later.

      He straightened his t-shirt and shook his disorganized hair. Turmoil wammonmmonplace after confrontations with the blond instigator. His nemesis threw an otherwise balanced mind for a loop, overwhelming him with hot emotions. They burned in his chest; behind his eyes. He started to notice that his knuc hur hurt. Another downside to his rival: he had a very hard head.

      A breeze tossed the surrounding world, and he caught note of several bright petals taking flight. Adrenaline still lingering in his veins, he indulged a whim and darted after them. There was a certain satisfaction in running for the sake of it, and he kept going. He pursued the air currents out of the woods and onto the grassy plains of Balamb, straight to the edge of the peninsula where he leapt in the air in a last vain attempt to lay hands on the stray blossoms. With a sigh, he tumbled voluntarily to the ground, rolling in the thick green grass with the rich smell of earth and ocean all around him. He smiled.

      Outside. The crashing sound of the waves breaking on the shore, the salt on the wind, the forgiveness of fields as opposed to concrete. He raised his eyes to the blues of the sky, and watched as a peculiar lone white feather drifted past him. It was just out of reach over the cliff's edge. He got to his feet and strained for it, ignoring the lack of solid ground in front of him, and struggled while it danced beyond his grasp. Bitterly close, and at once desperately far away. It was falling steadily toward his open palm, dusting past his outstretched fingertips. Then, in an instant, a gust howled from the sea and the feather soared. He took one last step to grab for it, and encountered the truth of empty air beneath his feet. And he was descending.

      Then he wasn't.

      "Squall!" Strong arms had circled his waist, and he found himself toppling backward into his rescuer's lap.

      "Squall!"

      He awoke to encounter an older and much less concerned Quistis.

      "Finally," she muttered, lashes flickering as she rolled her eyes. Her usual even tone hinted at amusement. "Rinoa is looking for you. Since when do you take afternoon naps?" she asked him teasingly. All he could offer in response was a mirror to her previous eye roll.

      "Where is she? One would think the first place she'd look would be in my room."

  &;&nb;   "When she checked your room you weren't in it. That leaves a lot of ground to be covered," Quistis stated, arms crossing and light smile on her beautiful face.

      "Right. Let's go." Squall pushed to his feet and pulled on a pair of sneakers, choosing not to care that he would be seen clothed ultra-casually. Irvine often wandered the dormitory halls in his pyjamas; otherwise identifiable as boxer shorts.

      Squall followed his companion from his room. The Garden was currently at rest in Balamb, its centre of origin, and people were free to roam in and out as they pleased. There wasn't much in the way of action, and everyone was still settling in the aftermath of the sorceress battle. Students and faculty, or those left, populated the corridors in colourful, flourishing groups. Conversations had been decidedly more optimistic lately.

      Squall, however, found himself bored. It was difficult to believe they were left with so litto dto do. Almost as though fate had forsaken them to whatever minor purposes they could find for themselves.

      Quistis was leading him outdoors, where he spotted all his companions, with the exception of the angel, seated on and around a picnic table. As they neared, Selphie bounded to her feet and ran to them, pouncing Squall directly into a hug. She was the only one of his comrades who would take such a liberty, and coincidentally the singular one from whom he would tolerate such an action.

      "Hey sleepy head!" she greeted warmly, an exclamation. "Aw, I heart your outfit!" With the assertion he was squeezed tighter.

      Squall caught himself laughing. In the past few weeks, in the wake of the final battle, he had gotten quite close to the cute and perky auburn-haired girl. She'd been by his side when the sorceress had fallen. She'd heard her last words, and witnessed her last desperate attempts to destroy them. She'd saved him over and over again, and for even once he couldn't thank her enough. She knew something that the others didn't, she had survived in a different way. The same way that Squall had. The two had reached a higher level of understanding.

      And now they were gal pals, to use Sephie's terminology. From gossip, to heart to hearts, to shopping, when alone together they existed solely for mutual entertainment. Relationships amongst the group were a favorite topic of discussion, and they'd shared insight over coffee in Balamb only the day before. They'd also shopped.

p;&np;    Selphie had taken initiative on her belief that Squall's wardrobe was a touch dry, in spite of her acclaim of his penchant for fur trim. This had led to yesterday's foray into thehionhion world.

      "Who knew you'd look so sexy iaid aid pants?" The tease broke his reverie, and his attention returned to the creature fastened to his chest. Her nose wrinkled adorably. "Not to mention the cuteness factor of this!" her finger landed dangerously close to a nipple.

   &nbsbsp;bsp; "What's so cute about a t-shirt?" he demanded.

      She bit her lip and tapped her pointer, indicating the logo beneath it. He remembered. A rough sketch of a headphone sporting monkey behind a DJ booth dawned on him. The drawing had appealed to a newfound sense of humour.

      "Oh. Right," he conceded with a nod.

      "Hee hee, yes! I still can't believe I convinced you to buy it. Aren't you happy I did?" She pranced back to the table, a cowboy in wait.

      Zell was deeply contemplating the sandwich in front of him, as though it held the very secret to life itself. Irvine was trying, without success, to get his hat back from Selphie. Quistis was watching the antics unfolding around her, bemused.

      Squall turned his attention to the trees of the forest adjacent to them. A single feather floated past, and Angelo trotted from the woods, heralding Rinoa's arrival. As she came into sight, her brown eyes alighted on him, and she smiled, hurrying over. They shared a hug, very different from the one he had endured from Selphie.

      "Did you have a nice nap?" she asked him, fixing an erratic strand of his hair. He realized he hadn't arranged it before leaving. It was likely he looked extremely disorganized.

      "You were looking for me. Something important?" he asked her, keeping her close to his front. She played with the griever that hung about his neck. He quirked his lips; it intrigued her and she fiddled with it constantly. Squall only encouraged her by never taking it off.

      "Not really, I just wanted to know where you were," she told him, constant smile on her innocent face. He dropped her a quizzical frown.

      "No rest for the wicked," he voiced, intuitive. Her eyes widened.

      "Who? Me?" she giggled.

      "You've got a secret," he pressed. "Do I have to start guessing?"

      Her head shook emphatically. "Honestly, I don't know what you're talking about."

      Watching her features gave the impression she was genuine, and he wondered briefly if he'd misread. There were a few elusive moods he hadn't learned to interpret yet. He shrugged. "If you're sure."

      "Come on," she urged suddenly, entwining their hands.

      They dashed into the thin line of trees and burst out in the glory of sunlight and pure shores of a long beach. Seabirds spiraled over the immaculate waters, the glint of fish visible in the distance.

      "It's pretty today," she whispered, releasing his fingers in a smooth motion. Moving to where the sand met the sea she walked, Angelo by her side. The dog snapped at the smaller waves, teeth closing on the confusion of liquid. Their forms were like outlines on a horizon.

      noa,noa, Squall!" a voice broke from the woods, "The bug bites are after me again!"

      Looking away from the figures on the beach, Squall watched Selphie flee from the forest, Irvine hot on her trail.

      "I hate bugs!" the brown-haired girl stated, hiding herself behind an accommodating taller brunette.

      "Seph! I could protect you from them if you'd give me the chance!" Irvine declared with a hurt tone in his voice, addressing the head that peeked out around Squall's torso.

      "You don't have your gun," Selphie spoke pointedly, extending an arm in emphasis. "And you're a useless smarty-pants when it comes to magic! How exactly would you protect me? As if I need it," she reasoned.

      "Oh ho, make fun of the cowboy that's lost his gun. That's a cheap shot if ever there was one." Irvine crossed his arms, his lengthy hair bobbing on his still hatless head

      Somewhere along the line Irvine's gun had been misplaced, although he continued to claim that it wasn't lost, he just didn't know where it was.

      "You two. What are we going to do with you?" Quistis stated, drifting from the wood in the remnants of a fire spell. "As for bite bugs, they shouldn't carry fire if they can't take the heat," she punned shamelessly. Zell was behind her to provide the necessary groan.

      "We should have a beach picnic tomorrow you guys!" Selphie suggested, hopping up and down.

      "What if it's not sunny tomorrow? The weather radar didn't look promising when I checked it this morning," Zell provided, an attempt to be helpful.

      Selphie sighed, her entire body drooping. "Well now it'll rain for sure because you said it would!" she complained, skittering away in mid-sentence when Irvine made a grab for his hat.

      "Super Duper Mega Bummer," Quistis stuck in for her.

      "That's right!" Selphie concurred, again using Squall as a shield. He frowned and struggled unwillingly, but he found himself sandwiched between cowboy and cutie-pie nonetheless
.
      "Well if it isn't raining tomorrow we'll have a picnic out here. If it is, we'll have a picnic in Squall's dorm," Rinoa offered.

      "Hey! Don't go volunteering my room as if it were a public park!"

      "Oh shush, yours is the tidiest. It's no trouble for you, mister leader," she chastised him.

      He finally managed to break away from his captor and the man who wanted his hat back, sending them chasing off after one another down the beach. Squall grumbled sourly but said nothing more.

      A silence fell.

      "I think I'm going to head to the training center for a little fun. Anyone want to come with me?" Quistis questioned. Selphie and the cowboy were still pursuing their game of hat tag. Zell was mulling over cloud patterns. Squall was preoccupieyingying to delete the mental image of Irvine being that close to him. She cast a glance in Rinoa's direction.

      "Sure, I could use a little practice. Angelo can get some exercise too," the black-haired girl agreed, leaving the strip of sand and heading back toward garden with Quistis.

      Zell watched them go. The stormy brunette still shaking his head and brushing off the front of his shirt. "Why go back to garden to train when they could just walk into the forest?" he asked the shaken Squall.

      "It's more convenient than running around in the woods. If they get tired they can just head to the caf and grab a snack instead of walking all the way back to garden from here," the brunette rationalized.

      Zell lifted and dropped his shoulders. "I'm gonna go to the library for a while. I've got some reading I need to catch up on," he said.

      Selphie darted back across the exchange, "Off to see lover girl! Have fun!" she shot in. Zell set jaw jaw in a pout and stalked off.

      Squall watched Irvine and the auburn bombshell tear off into the fields, falling somewhere in the long grass and making no effort to return to him. He observed the black cowboy hat go flying skyward, and his the corner of his mouth twitched.

      Left alone with only his thoughts, he took a seat on the warm beach, unconcerned for the state of his clothing. The wind picked up, tossing yellow blossom petals past him, toying with his hair. He turned to face the direction it had come from to feel its full force, and spotted a familiar figure striding toward him.

      "What do you want?" Squall demanded caustically, one hand on his forehead. Seifer gave him a heedless smirk.

      "I only came over to see if the little boy was lost, Leonhart," he goaded. He extended a hand to the scowling figure on the ground. "Need me to walk you home, princess?"

      A storm-blue glare flew up at him, but a hand slipped into his. A blond eyebrow lifted suspiciously. Suddenly the grip tightened and a swift yank landed him face-first in the sandbank. As a result the younger man was on his feet, laughing.

      "No white flags here Almasy," Squall asserted, backing away off the beach.

      "My how times have changed," Seifer murmured wistfully. "I guess it's true. You did just need a good lay. Rinoa's a real panther, isn't she?"

      "More of a kitten, really," the brunette countered. "Instructor Trepe, on the other hand..."

      "Oh yeah, you would be into that whole disciplinary trip, wouldn't you? Personally, it's the whip that gets me stiff. Something about the crack of chains and leather," the downed boy contemplated with a toothy smile, repositioning his casually clothed frame into a sit and lighting a cigarette. "If only I'd known sooner we shared the same juvenile fantasies."

      Squall shook his head, stifling a grin. He returned and plunked down next to the blond, snatching the cigarette and flicking it towards the ocean. "That's fucking bad for you, you know," he explained to the dropped jaw at his side.

      "You owe me a drink for that manoeuver, you self-righteous prick," Seifer bitched, flopping backward onto the sand. "That was my last one."

      Squall watched a cowboy hat blowing haphazardly along the beach, and snickered.

      "What's the joke?" Seifer demanded, craning his head upward to glimpse the amusement. "Oh, fuckin A, man!" he cried, shooting to his feet and chasing down the stray hat. Snagging it he slapped it on his head and strutted back toward his companion. "Yeehaw," he voiced deeply, tipping the rim at the brunette, the other hand one thumb through a belt loop.

      Squall scoffed in mild disgust. "What are you going to do with that?" he posed. The blond reclined onto his elbows.

      "Why I don't right know, little lady," he provoked. "How's about you pick up your skirts and we ride off into the sunset?"

      "I'm guessing you don't mean on a chocobo," Squall grumbled, sneering. Seifer grinned, each fang baring his intent.

      "Whatever you girls are calling �em these days is dandy by me," he shrugged. A hand slapped the hat from his head and he laughed as he pursued it a second time. "Here, you try," he suggested when he returned.

      "Are you kidding? Do you have any idea where that's been?" Squall defended, raising his arms.

      "Don't be so damn stuck up," the blond growled, thumping the hat onto the unwilling head. "Now say something stupid," he ordered. "Come on, I dare you."

      Squall was silent. He bowed his head and tilted the hat further down, peering at his friend. "By my reckoning," he vocalized, "the sunset ain't for �nother coupla hours. I propose we rendevous under cover a dark, missy." He leaned over and trailed his gaze from the blond's chest upwards to meet his eyes, "If your daddy knew what we were up to, whew doggy, he'd run me outta town."

      Seifer blinked at the proximity, his lips parted. "You're actually turning me on," he rumbled, eyebrows quirked. The younger boy withdrew and whacked him with the hat.

      "Gimme a break," he muttered from the side of his mouth. "Don't tell me you have a thing for cowboys too?"

      "I'm just a sucker for a pretty face," Seifer excused, patting him on the back and rising to leave. He spun the stetson and donned it, beginning toward Balamb. "We should do that under cover of dark thing sometime."

      Squall slumped his head to his knees.
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Four Way Stop