+ final fantasy viii: perfect

PeRFecT

By B.E. (aka Mr. McFrugalshtein.)

Disclaimer: I AM THE MISTRESS OF THE UNIVERSE!!!! I OWN EVERYTHING!!!! MWA HAH HAH HAH HAH..oh, except these characters.places, game-based events.. 'n stuff.

A.N.: Quistis and Irvy? Wait wait.hear me out! This story does make sense, dammit! But man- this suckers gonna be long.. I should really be writing my novel..or doing my homework..heh heh..or sleeping.mmmmmm..z.z.z..zz..z.z...



Dawn broke around six thirty that morning. Quistis wasn't quite sure of the exact time, only that it was pre-mental alarm. She regretted leaving her watch in her bedroom, though, she realized timelessness was a freeing experience.

Yawning, she attempted to stretch out her aching arms. She couldn't move. Glancing to her right, she realized with an embarrassed blush that she was pressed tightly to sleeping Irvine's chest with his arm wrapped protectively around her back. She knew what this looked like, and what the conclusion would be if someone happened to see them.

The looked like lovers. No two ways about it.

She snuggled in closer- if he woke and asked, she'd simply pretend to wake up confused. Her own arms were curled in tight, resting atop his medal- adorned cadet uniform. She felt the urge to glance up at his sleeping face, to touch his golden skin, but. . . .well, that just wasn't going to happen. He would probably wake up any second and she really didn't feel like yet another embarrassing encounter. She listened to the slow, steady thump of his heart and rode the wave of his breath. 'You're losing it-Trepe. Definitely.' She reprimanded herself. 'If this keeps accelerating, you're going to lose your job. You're allowed an object of desire-but no obsessions. Especially none focused on a cadet. On Irvine. The way he's going, he'll be dead in no time. Save yourself the heartache. . . .What? Did I just think that? Hyne, please no. I don't mean to mother him, but he needs to be protected. Galbadia's so sadistic.' Sighing, she closed her eyes and welcomed the percussive symphony the cadet's cardiovascular system was creating. It was hypnotizing.

His breath suddenly caught in his chest. He had awoken.

"Good morning, Mr. Kinneas." Quistis attempted an ironic tone, trying to mask her blissful state. His chest heaved as he inhaled a massive yawn.

"G'day, Quisty. And how did. . .. oh, heh heh." He laughed, the diaphragmatic contractions causing Quistis' head to bounce up and down. "Sorry- Guess I got a bit fresh there last night." He removed his arm allowing Quistis to untangle herself and sit up. "No hard feelin's, right? I mean. . ..shucks- like it could'a been avoided."

'Now what did he mean by that?' Quistis pondered and raised an eyebrow. He merely grinned and jumped to his feet to stretch his tightened muscles. Picking a leaf from her hair, Quistis poured sand over the sad little fire's dying embers. Irvine re-rolled the blanket and stuffed it in his pack.

"Now- it's 'bout six thirty- They'll be unlockin' the doors just about now. Should give ya enough time ta make it look like this never happened. . . .." Irvine plopped his cowboy hat on his head and shook out his tan duster. Quistis didn't reply- she felt it was more prudent not to. Just nodded. He crawled into his coat and they trudged back towards the Garden. The dialogue from their previous night played through the Instructor's head.

"How long will you be in F.H?" She asked. He shrugged and smiled.

"Dunno- probably be back tonight sometime. Y'know, if I don't. . . .."He fell silent and stared at the ground. She sighed.

"You're going after an alleged Esthar spy? You been sent after a few, haven't you? I overheard Samah and Martine discussing it." He didn't answer, so she continued. "I find it strange that Esthar has taken any interest in Galbadian affairs- I mean, they've hidden themselves away since the sorceress war. I just assumed that they had given up on the rest of the world. . . ."

"I have no idea- Quisty." Irvine returned with a forced smile. "I'm kinda sick of it, though. But. . .." His voice fell to a low whisper. " Something is up in Deling city. I don't know what, but -Hyne-be-damned- it's nothin' good." His words were laced with cold vehemence. She shivered.

They reached Garden just as one of the SeeD trucks was pulling out of the main garage. The covered pick-up ground to a stop beside them. Irvine saluted. The window opened a nudge.

"Sir. The perimeter has been cleared- South end fully functional, sir." Irvine barked. Quistis had never realized just how stupid they all sounded. The window fully unrolled and a familiar head popped out.

"At ease, cowboy." Seifer sneered. Irvine broke from his stance and took up a defensive position. Quistis groaned and put a hand to her forehead. "Hey- ya, instructor. Did you guys get any last night? I mean, monsters- you know. Did you find some action?" He cackled. Quistis was blushing- she KNEW she was blushing. Even if it wasn't true-well IT was, but not Seifer's implication- she was embarrassed. Irvine just cocked his head rubbed his nose.

"Jealous? I felt real sorry for you-cooped up in your room, under house arrest. I really pitied you, y'know."

Pity. That was a dangerous word to say around Seifer Almasy. Dangerous and foolhardy thing to say. Seifer's ice-blue eyes narrowed and his lip curled up in an extensive sneer.

"Fuck-off, you illiterate, free-for all yokel. Breathe easy now- but I'll be back in two weeks. Live in fear, cowboy. Live in fear."

"Whatever, Almasy. You talk big- but I bet you've never killed a man. I've a sixteen human death count. You?"

"Guys- c'mon. Cool yer jets." An older SeeD emerged from the front gate, clutching one of Martine's file folders. Lieutenant Dunkan. Opening the driver's side door, he extracted Seifer from the driver's seat and pointed to the trunk. Before Seifer could make out a sneer, he was cuffed on the side of the head. "Get in the cab, cadet. Like I'm gonna let you fuckin' drive. Shit."

Irvine snickered. Quistis shot him a warning glance as an enraged Seifer climbed into the trunk, cursing and blaspheming. Dunkan turned to Irvine and clasped his upper arm.

"You okay, kid?" Irvine nodded and the SeeD grinned. "South end's clear? Good job- Martine said to report back to him at O-nine hundred hours. Gives you a bit of a break, eh?" Dunkan thumped the cadet on the back and turned to acknowledge Quistis. He nodded his head and grinned. "Instructor- Lieutenant Trepe. G'day." She returned the gesture. Laughing, Dunkan leaned close to Irvine, though Quistis could easily hear every word exchanged.

"Shit, kid. She's gorgeous. You are such a dog."

"No-sir- I am not." Irvine replied. Dunkan simply shook his head knowingly. Quistis was beginning to get a better sense of Irvine's. . . ..um, personal life.

"Good luck, Kinneas. Don't die, kay?" The Lieutenant waved as he revved the engine as he pulled out and took off towards Timber.

"Hey, Instructor- you got a twig in your hair."

Quistis patiently pulled the stick from her bun and waved to Seifer as he disappeared from her line of vision. He was an asshole and a pain, but she was, and felt, responsible for him.

"Hey- you may've had a stick in your hair, but at least Seifer's out of it now." Irvine offered.

"True- thanks for pointing that out." Irvine rubbed his neck nervously beside her and tugged at his hair. What was wrong now? Irvine wasn't exactly demure.

"Hell- I'm sorry, Quisty. About all that stuff- I'm sure they didn't think nothin'. Seifer's an asshole and Dunkan was just teasin'. Sorry if, ya'know, you were, like, offended. . . ..If you were, I'll take care of'em. . . .." He caressed his gun and sucked his teeth. Quistis cracked up. 'Oh my god. That's adorable. Sexist and unnecessary, but adorable. She waved off the comment, and hid her giggles.

"That won't be necessary, Irvine. But thank you for considering my delicate, female ego."

He blushed, biting his lip, realizing the irony. Instructor Trepe obviously didn't need a bodyguard, let alone some punk cadet. He just grinned and fiddled with his hat. Quistis put her hand on his shoulder and met his eyes. 'Dammit- nothing's changed. He's still gorgeous. Those eyes are killer. I wonder if he realizes that? I wonder what he tastes like? I wonder how it would feel to.'

"You should probably head to your room for some rest." Quistis murmured. " You're obviously exhausted. You deserve a couple hours in bed." He didn't follow her suggestion. He pressed closer.

"Yeah. . . .probably should. . .." He whispered, swallowing hard. He reached up to stroke away the lock of blonde hair that had slipped into Quistis' face. They were so close now. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew that, no matter how sensitive he was, he was a womanizer. But with such good reason. He brought his face close to hers. She was going to hyperventilate! Would he. . . .Should he. . . .Could he. . ..

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and ran off, waving.

Damn him! He wasn't a playboy- he was a tease! Hyne above. . . ..

She looked around wordlessly and glanced over at the communal clock- six fifty four and twelve seconds. She had ninety seven minutes and forty-eight seconds before Botchaskya's class. So she paced the empty halls and enjoyed the ethereal peace. The structure was beautiful without the screaming masses. She found herself in the Grand Auditorium, an ornate assembly room decked out in red velvet and white marble, with a dome- shaped, fresco-painted ceiling depicting scenes of the sorceress war. She took a seat in the front row, marveling at how very cushy these chairs were.

Then she sat- without thinking, without worrying, without stewing. It was heavenly. The cathedral ceiling and lavish tableaux were humbling- it WAS like church. She wasn't especially religious (took Hyne's name in vain a little too often) but she felt a kind of spirituality emanating from this room. It was alive with magic. Quistis closed her eyes and imagined nothing.

'QuIsTis?'

'Hmmm. . . .? Shut up. No more thinking.'

'LiTtlE QuIsTy?'

'I said. . .. wh.. . .what? What's going on? Who?'

'My LiTtLe, BlUe-EyEd QuIsTiS. . . .'

'What's happening? This isn't me- who is it this?!?'

'BoSsY liTtle QuIsTy. . .'

'Is this. . . ."

'My PeRFecT liTlE QuIstY. . .'

'Hyne!'

'. . . .'

'Wait- who are?'

'Quistis!'

'Wait!'

"Quistis Trepe- what the hell's going on with you, girl?"

Quistis pried her eyes open to find an astonished Evana Botchaskya hovering above her.

"Trepe- are you okay?"

Groaning, the blonde-haired instructor put her hand to her temple. Her skull ached something fierce and her blood pulsed violently in her ears. The taste of bile was fresh in her mouth and she could do nothing but pitch forward into Instructor Botchaskya's arms and retch. Luckily and unluckily it smattered across the carpet. Quistis glanced down at it weakly.

"Ah, shit."

"Yer damn right. Hyne- what the hell have you been eating? You smell like death." Evana rushed to hall and returned with an empty, green garbage bag. The red-headed instructor whipped it open and held it for the younger SeeD. Quistis took the opportunity to empty what little she had left in her, which was mostly vile-tasting intestinal fluids. She hadn't eaten in twelve hours. Upon resurfacing, Evan gave her A Look.

"So. . . ..How much ya drink last night, girlie?" The strategy Instructor pronounced the fact so knowingly! Quistis gaped and her body spasmed again, releasing more unknown fluid.

"Nothing. Honestly. And I haven't eaten since dinner."

"Then where were you last night? I swung by to give you my course package and you weren't there. . . .."

"I got caught outside after hours and spent the night hunting 'critters' with Cadet Kinneas." Quistis let loose another stream, then sat back on her haunches and gulped in some air. She wiped the tears out of her eyes and rubbed her throbbing temples. "I was fine until I fell asleep."

"You were sleepin'? Hyne- that was some strange position, Trepe. 'Course, girls are never the same after a night with Kinneas. . . .Your back was locked like a plank and your eyes were flutterin'- it was really peculiar. How do you feel now?"

"What? My head's throbbing, the blood is pounding in my ears and I just brought up my internal organs. How do I feel?!?!? I feel. . . ." She stopped and did a body check.. "Fine. Absolutely fine." And she did. In fact- she felt totally released and healthy. She felt amazing. "Damn. What is wrong with me? I feel. . . .amazing." She glanced up at Evana. "Pumped- energized. Wow."

"Yeah-well. Can you at least manage to stand?"

Quistis jumped to her feet, her pain completely forgotten. The smell of her nausea was the only reminder. She quickly tied the bag and deposited it down the garbage disposal. Then she flexed her arms and stretched her back.

"I think you should visit the infirmary, Trepe. This is eerie."

"I'm fine, Evana. Wow- I'm. . . .Going to get ready for class."

"I think you'd be better off. . . ."

"Do you need me to prepare anything for this morning's class, Instructor Botchaskya?" Quistis asked, skirting the issue. Yes it was perplexing. But the fact that she had suddenly felt sick was more perplexing than the fact that she had suddenly recovered. No potions. No magic. Only the most frightening internal dialogue she'd ever experienced. She shuddered and pushed it from her mind. Botchaskya sighed and shrugged.

"No-we're taking a field trip to the missile base. Caraway's running some tests and wants to put my strategy class to work on codes and bullying tactics. Oh yeah- and they get to learn how to haul and lock the missiles into place. Doesn't it sound like fun? A barrel of fucking monkeys. Shit. . . .." Botchaskya lit up and sucked deeply at her cigarette. "You don't have to come, girly. It's the most degenerate sight in the history of Galbadia Garden."

"I'll come. If only for moral support. I owe you one."

"Trepe- you owe me lots. Shit, I have to change. Go take a shower and meet me in room fifty-seven at eight-twenty five. That gives you. . . .."

"Thirty seven minutes and fifty two seconds." Quistis interjected, glancing at the clock. Evana nodded

"Right. Hell." The surly red head puffed her cigarette and exited the Hall. Quistis quickly headed to her room.

Her routine mangled, she threw herself in the shower, furiously lathering and rinsing. She skipped drying her hair- instead, she just wrapped it up in a high bun and ripped her bangs out to frame her face. Brushing her teeth and flossing were accomplished at an astonishing rate, and she dressed with an inhuman velocity. Her adrenaline was pumping and she didn't know why. But her mind was racing far too quickly for her to pause and consider a likely answer.

She slipped into her SeeD uniform and black riding boots. It wasn't necessary, but Quistis figured it would be more respectable to wear for her first day at work. Especially if she was venturing into a Galbadian army base. She had to represent Balamb with all the dignity her parental Garden deserved. On her way out, she checked her map and her watch. Down the stairs, left, second hall, second door. Time: eight nineteen and thirty nine seconds. Better than perfect. It was a world record. Grabbing an apple and a cereal bar, Quistise practically flew down the hall and stairs, and waited patiently for Instructor Botchaskya to arrive.

The elder Instructor waltzed in at eight twenty four and forty nine seconds. Quistis was impressed. Upon seeing Quistis, Botchaskya snorted and shook her head. Quistis nodded quizzically.

"I swear, you're a different girl than the one I saw this morning. I still think you should pop in to the infirmary before we go. And make sure you alert me if you feel it coming on. You're nausea is practically a projectile. It could be considered a bio-hazard, not to mention a biological weapon. . . .." Evana grinned and stroked her chin. "Mebbe we should sick'ya on Vinzer Deling. Tell'ya- I'd sure love to see the look on that fucker's face. . . .."



"You talkin' 'bout Vice President Deling again, Instructor Botchaskya?" A couple smart-mouthed students strode into class giggling. A little girl with brown pigtails asked the question. The red-headed instructor just laughed.

"You guys know me- I hate'em and I'll always hate'em. We're all going to end up dead because of him, I just know it." Evana growled and slammed her fist into the table. The other student, a tall blond-haired young man simply shrugged.

"So let's kill'em." The boy's facial expression made Quistis suppress a giggle. Expression, words and body language- the boy had just 'pulled a Squall'. Hyne, she missed THAT asshole sometimes. But this student smiled at her reaction and hooked his thumb in his belt loop. That. . . .was not Squall at all.

"Yeah- maybe we'll get a chance today." Evana shook her head and marched to the front of the classroom as the remaining students began to shuffle in. Quistis nodded to the couple as she took a seat near the back of the room. The chairs filled quickly. Instructor Botchaskya coughed, picked up a dossier, held it for a moment and slammed it down on the desk. The kids jumped, which is what their instructor had obviously planned. She sat on the edge of her desk and folded her arms over her chest.

"Pack your things and make sure you're wearing proper shoes. We're leaving for the Desert Base in ten minutes. Deserters will be executed- academically, of course. And do not miss the bus. I'll repeat- ten minutes. Dead Deserters. No missed buses. East loading docks. Move out. Now. I'm not a happy camper. I'm just itching to give out a detention today."

"Give it ta Seifer." One of the boys snickered. Evana turned her glare on him.

"Believe you me- I would love to, but he's not attending school today. So I've designated you his patsy. See me at four o'clock. Now- get the hell out of my sight and into the bus. We're gonna have a fun day playing kiss ass to the Galbadian military. Go Go Go!"

The group left by quarter to nine. As the cadets filed into the Garden cheese wagon, Quistis caught a glance of Irvine from Martine's office window. She saluted subtly and he waved and contorted his face into an obscene grin. She shook her head.

"Hey- how come Kinneas doesn't have ta come?" One of the cadets protested, catching the cowboy's display. Instructor Botchaskya frowned.

"He's no longer one of us. He's Vinzer Deling's gun-whore now. Get in the bus."

He's no longer one of us.

That was probably the only blow that could take down Irvine Kinneas. Quistis took one final glance at her perfectly imperfect cadet and boarded the bus.



A.N.:Read and Review- Anyone still there? This one was a little slower. My hand's been kinda tire, ya'know? Next chapter out real soon! (you guys know that!) Yay- we're finally getting into the story.

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