"Neither did yours," Squall said calmly. He set down the report. "Neither did mine. Zell shouldn't have made Instructor, but he's the most popular one we have. Same with Selphie. Irvine should have been court-martialed because of his hesitation to assassinate the Sorceress, but he wasn't, and now he's a field commander for the elite sent out on high-level assignments. Those were all my call. You want me to 'change my mind' just because their scores didn't match their potential? Then I better quit SeeD and work in Sally's pet shop."
Quistis laughed. "You? Right."
Squall's lips twitched. "Just ignore him, Quis. As much as you can anyway."
Quistis' smile faded. "Transfer him somewhere else and I'll ignore him, otherwise. . . ."
"Seifer stays."
"Fine. Then I'll keep filing complaints against him."
Quistis turned and away and boarded the newly returned elevator.
Squall sighed and shook his head.
*
SPLUT
Quistis' stomach slithered to the chilled floor below as she stared at the collection of photographs. Seifer slowly crossed his arms as his hard green gaze stared down at her; watching but revealing nothing. A hand, trembling, very slowly reached out to adjust the photos. She cringed, and again, and then choked on a sob as her other hand tightened into a fist.
"How," she whispered in a choked voice.
"Routine security sweep of those involved in any way with a member of SeeD." Seifer tightened his crossed arms. "Say the word and it's handled, D.C. style."
Quistis gathered up the photographs as she stood, fingers trembling and face pale. "No."
"Fine." Seifer watched her. "Security is sweeping your room for the tap into the video line. I'll report when it's discovered."
Quistis absently nodded, closing off the view of the pictures with the manila folder. Then she moved from her office with deliberate motions. Shock wouldn't let her feel anything as she clutched the folder in a trembling hold. She made her way to her room, ignored the security team, and grabbed a change of clothes on her way to the bathroom.
Minutes later, the images in the folder within her tight grip continued to burn her mind as she woodenly made her way down the corridor to the parking lot. Why. I don't--No. It didn't make sense, but she knew. Rinoa had said there was that interest. So had Sally. But--and her mind wouldn't let her think further.
Quistis boarded the first car available and headed out to Balamb. Then she was on the train to Timber, sitting stiffly in the seat as her hands clutched the folder in her lap. No conversations had been logged in her shocked mind. Nothing registered but the images that began to melt her calm and control.
Why?
The question rumbled within and began growing in volume and power. She rigidly pulled a phone from her hip to push and hold a single number. Quistis raised the phone to her ear--
"Hello?"
She blinked as the dam sprung a leak. "Meet me at the station in fifteen minutes."
"Quistis? What's the matter?"
She clenched her jaw as she tightened her hold on the phone. "Fifteen minutes, Zone, and your explanation had better be good."
"Huh? How come?"
Quistis pushed 'end'.
*
Zone stared down at the phone. He frowned and scratched at the back of his neck.
"Yo. Dude. Got any grub?"
Zone turned to focus on Dwight. He was a weasel-looking guy with stringy blond hair, pimples, and silver eyes, but they'd been friends for years. "Yeah. In the fridge. Hey, D. Are you sure the SeeDs didn't say anything when they left?"
Dwight turned away. "Nah. Dude. Swear. It's cool."
Zone absently nodded as he focused again on the phone in his hand. He slowly replaced it on its stand. "Okay," he said under his breath. "Fifteen."
*
Quistis stepped down from the train, temper strictly under control--She saw his smiling face and easy lope forward. The images burned and the smile punched her in the gut.
"Hi, Qui--"
She did a quick flick of her wrist and arm and wrapped the end of her whip around his throat with a loud crack. Zone's eyes widened as he gasped for air. Quistis stretched out an arm, hand clutching the folder. "How could you do this?"
"Do what?" he gasped, hands tugging at the coiled whip.
Quistis performed another succession of quick and flowing moves and loosened the coil. The end of the whip dropped to his feet, waiting as Quistis secured the grip to her waist. She opened the folder and retrieved a photo of her stepping from the shower. Zone blanched. "Familiar?" She threw it at him and retrieved another as the predecessor slithered to the floor. "This one?" She was undressing. Zone's complexion tinged yellow. "Or what about this one?"
Zone focused on her angry blue eyes. "Qui--"
She threw the folder at him, and he cringed away from it. "Tell me the truth, Zone. If I hadn't sent you that first email, would you have been fine with those?" She gestured roughly toward the littering of photographs around him. "If Seifer hadn't found them, would you have told me? Or stopped? Or burned them? Would you?"
Zone stretched his hands toward her with a quick succession of shakes to his head. "Quistis, please--"
"Are these from your computer?" she asked, voice choked yet harsh as she pointed at him with each word.
Zone slouched and slightly nodded. "Yeah," he whispered.
Quistis cringed. "I never want to hear or see you again," she hissed. "Ever," and she jabbed him hard in the chest.
Zone stared at her, silence dooming every word they'd ever shared. Quistis turned and stalked away, fighting back the tears as she left the station and moved blindly forward.
*
Zone stared after Quistis, rooted to the spot in shock and muted disbelief as the photographs of her flipped and danced along the ground of the station. Passersby sent him the occasional glance, but the dark-haired man didn't notice. He cringed at the burning of his ulcer and moved his focus to the photos around him. Zone slowly bent, crouching to retrieve them and place them face down into the folder.
"Yo, Zone!"
Zone cringed again, and his ulcer growled and grumbled as he lifted his gaze. Zell and Selphie headed toward him, and by the looks on their faces they'd seen the whole thing.
Zone slowly stood, folder in hand. "Hey, guys," he greeted morosely.
Zell gestured after Quistis, and Zone noticed Zell's girlfriend Sally hurrying after her. "What's going on?" Zell asked. "She looked pissed."
"She was." Zone stared again at the folder that held the photos. He couldn't understand.
"How come?" Selphie asked. "Did you say something?"
Zone slightly shook his head, and then he noticed a stray photograph just behind Zell. When Zone went to grab it up, Zell got it first. Zone cringed, nearly doubling over in pain.
"...the hell?" Zell pointed angrily at the photo. "Watcha thinkin', dude? This isn't cool! You wanna ruin everything?"
Selphie released a deep breath. "Zone. . . ."
Zone yanked the photo from Zell's hold and shoved it into the folder. "I know, I know," he muttered. But he didn't know. How?
"Zone, I thought--"
"Okay! So I screwed up! I'm sorry!"
"'Sorry' don't cut it, Z-man. Quistis--You might as well kiss your ass good bye."
Zone cringed, his insides crawling. He gripped the folder and turned to head for home. It didn't make sense. They couldn't have come from his computer. But how else had she gotten them? Zone absently shook his head. He had to find out if Garden Security had really found them on his computer. And how.
*
The pungent aroma of second-hand smoke, stale beer, and body odor mixed with bad cologne gave Quistis' eyes an excuse to water as she strode up to the bartender and demanded a "Beer". He handed her a bottle without a word. Quistis pushed herself away from the bar counter and turned away, moving through the people that cluttered the pub and ignoring everyone.
Quistis found a darkened table in
the far corner and slowly sat as she set her beer bottle onto the table. She stared at it, slightly hunched while slowly turning the bottle with her fingers. She vaguely noticed a figure standing across from her at her table. But what could anyone say? The person slowly sat, still silent. Quistis didn't look up. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to stop. I was supposed to be--
She suddenly leaned back in her chair, an arm resting across her middle as her other lifted the beer bottle for a deep draught. She slammed it down. "The bastard has nudie pics of me," she snarled, but Quistis could hear the tears.
She sent a quick glance to the person sitting across from her, Sally Regal. Sally didn't say anything. She only watched Quistis' face with her big blue eyes that showed sadness and helplessness. Quistis looked away. Sally likely blamed herself. After all, it had been Sally's urging that made Quistis send that first email.
She finished the beer and motioned for another as she slammed the empty bottle down away from her. Then she leaned forward and against the table again, rubbing her forehead with a shaky hand as she sighed deeply. "At least he didn't deny it," she mumbled. "Maybe he should have?" She could have made herself believe it had been a plot to screw with her mind. Maybe a prank by Seifer to piss her off. She could have made herself believe it.
The bartender set down another bottle, asked if Sally wanted anything, and then went back to his counter with a sidelong glance to Quistis when Sally declined. She took another long swig of the fresh beer before setting it slowly down and fingering the body of the bottle.
"It could've worked, Sally," she confessed softly. "We talked about everything in our emails or phone calls. He's funny, too." She released another long sigh, lifting her eyes to meet Sally's again. "It could've worked but for his damned--" Quistis looked away, and the hurt began to spark to anger.
Sally still didn't say a word.
"I'm a person," she told Sally in a carefully controlled voice. "I'm not a pin-up of some porno bimbo for him to get his midnight jollies." She looked over at the ex‑librarian with flashing eyes, jabbing sharply at her own chest. "Damn it! I'm not a ticket to a wet dream," she whispered in a choked voice.
Sally flushed but held Quistis' gaze while saying, "No, you're not."
Quistis pressed her lips together and then looked away again. She drank her beer with a slow and deliberate action. Then she held it in one hand and stared down at the label. "I should have known better, Sally. Rinoa told me about his collection of mags. You did, too. I didn't think I'd care--No. I just never thought pictures of me. . . ." Quistis sighed and shook her head. I wanted to be enough, but "He screwed up."
Sally gave a slight nod. "Yes, he did," and her voice sounded a choked whisper.
Quistis could hear the guilt and looked over at Sally out of the corner of her eyes. "He said he'll dump them if I give him another chance," she offered slowly. At least, the look in his eyes had said it. The look in his eyes had admitted everything. "I don't think he will. Not permanently." She motioned toward Sally with the beer bottle. "What do you think?"
Sally moved her focus to the table-top and began picking at a knot in the wood. "Second chances are. . . important," she said carefully.
Quistis' throat tightened. How many second chances do I have to give before I can stop being alone? "But?"
Sally sighed and finally lifted her eyes. "But you need to do what's best for you. Is Zone best for you?" Sally lowered her gaze again. "Or not?"
Quistis could tell Sally regretted the question. Quistis regretted the question. Because how could she answer? She liked Zone, but. . . . "Not."
Sally met her eyes. "Then that's what you've got to do," she said softly, and then she almost reluctantly smiled. "He'll get over it. Eventually. And who knows? Maybe he'll stop with the naughty magazines?"
Quistis smirked. "Yeah. Right. I won't hold my breath." She held Sally's gaze a moment before looking back to her beer bottle. "It would've worked." Right?
"I know, Quistis. Sometimes it doesn't."
"Twice." Squall. Zone. "Three times and I'm single for life." Quistis felt as if there was something wrong with her. After all, even Zell had found someone to be with.
Sally shook her head. "Not for you, Quistis." Quistis looked up. "You just have to find the right guy."
I thought I had. "Fine." She focused on her beer bottle again. "You got a brother who happens to be single?" She immediately scoffed. Jump back into the fire after getting burned to hell? "Yeah. Right."
Sally remained quiet. Still. Longer. Quistis looked up, and her smirk vanished at the expression on Sally's face. "You're kidding."
Sally met her gaze. "Actually, um, I have an older brother. Zack. He works at the T.V. station," she said as she motioned to the pub exit. "Manager."
"Manager?" Quistis repeated. She crossed her arms. "What is he? Forty? Sorry; not into the marrying my father thing."
Sally giggled. "Zack's only twenty-six, Quistis."
Quistis raised an eyebrow. "Twenty-six. Manager of the T.V. station. Single. Five hundred pounds? Bald?" It would be just her luck.
Sally's eyes crinkled at the corners. "No. He's just really busy at the station." Then Sally slightly bit her lower lip, the smile vanishing. "And, well, he's not really single. He's been divorced a couple times."
Quistis smirked. "Sounds like he has the same luck I do." Well. Worse, actually. At least I've been smart enough to. . . Actually, she'd never been given the opportunity to say 'no'.
Sally's smile returned, and she motioned toward the back door of the pub. "You want to meet him? We could watch the shows until he's free."
Quistis moved her gaze to her half-full beer bottle. "No, thanks. I'll give up on love for a while. Maybe another time." When it won't hurt so much.
"Oh." Sally cleared her throat. "You still want to go shopping with us?"
Quistis shook her head. "I'll pass. Tell Rinoa 'hi' for me."
Sally nodded and stood. "Okay." She paused. "I'm sorry about Zone, Quistis."
Quistis gripped the beer bottle with both hands. "Thanks."
Sally hesitated a bit longer before turning to leave.
"Sally."
She turned. "Yeah?"
Quistis looked up. "Thanks for listening." It's not your fault.
Sally smiled. "You're welcome."
Quistis stared back at her beer bottle as Sally turned again to leave. It's mine.
*
Zone stood just outside the T.V. station, manila folder still clutched in his hands. You have to do this, man. Zone ignored the pain of his stomach and stepped forward, entering the station and greeting the middle-aged receptionist at the front desk.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"I'm here to talk to Zackary Regal," Zone told her.
The woman directed her glasses to the end of her nose as she regarded Zone in his green felt pullover, t-shirt, and worn black jeans and sneakers. Zone looked down--What gives?--and then back up, meeting her gaze.
"Do you have an appointment?" And her slightly cold tone screamed that she knew he didn't.
"I'm a friend."
Her hazel eyes seemed to say 'That's what they all say' as she nearly rolled her eyes. But she lifted the phone receiver and asked, "Name please?"
"Zon--erm, Abe McCormick." Zone rolled his dark eyes. He hated his name. Sounded like a dweeb.
"Wait right over there," she informed him, gesturing to the chairs on the opposite wall before pressing the appropriate button for Zack's office. Zone absently nodded and turned away to approach the chairs. You're doing the right thing, man. He'll know what to do. You're in way over your head here. Just remember what Rinoa sai--
"Sir?"
Zone looked up and stood, hands still clutching the thick folder. "Yeah."
"You can go right in."
Zone gave a slight nod and stepped forward, down the hall to the newsroom that bustled with stories and adventures and danger. Today he'd be adding another headline. He passed the desks and com
puters and research areas and knocked hesitantly on the door labeled 'Manager'. Zack Regal looked up from his desk and ushered Zone in, smiling.
Zack didn't look anything like his baby sister Sally. Zack was built like a bodyguard, easily standing six-foot and towering over Zone. He also had the same no-shit attitude of assurance and authority that Seifer did. Probably the main reason people didn't screw up at the T.V. station like they used to. Zack's blue eyes were bright with intelligence and definitely influenced how people talked to him. They almost seemed to bore right through a person.
Zone entered the office while clearing his throat and adjusting his hold on the folder. Zack motioned for someone--a passerby--to close the door, and it clicked shut.
Zack motioned to Zone. "So what can I do for you, Zone? Got another lead on something?"
He cleared his throat again. "You remember that raid on the ISP here a few weeks ago?"
"Sure," Zack acknowledged, and his blue eyes absorbed every bit of information from Zone's expression and body language. Zack leaned slightly forward. "They strike again?"
"I. . . I don't know." Zone hesitantly offered forward the folder. Zack opened it and slowly scrutinized the pictures and print-outs inside. Zone felt his ears burn. "Those were on my computer, but I don't know anything about it. I swear."
Zack absently nodded. "Who is she?"
Zone's entire face flamed. "Quistis Trepe. She's the Head Instructor at Balamb Garden."
Zack absently nodded again. "Wire. . . no. . . Video line tap into Garden Network. Damn." Zack pursed his lips. "That's inside. Security?"
"I looked at the source dates of the files, and it was just about the time of the whole ISP/Trojan thing with Quistis. With her computer at Garden."
Zack met Zone's slightly wide gaze. "That was from the ISP. How are they getting access to your computer at home?"
Zone flushed and then blanched as he rubbed the back of his neck, gaze lowering.
"Trojan?"
"Not really, but something like it." Zone released a quick breath and looked up again. "What do I do?"
Zack tucked the pictures back inside the folder. "You shut down the link?"
He shook his head. "Didn't want them to know I found it."
Zack nodded. "Good." He stood, gathering up his phone and the folder. "Come on."
Zone hesitantly stood. "What are we going to do?"
"We're going to your place so I can check it out myself. Then I'm going to see what my eyes have seen and listen to what my ears have heard." Zack motioned for Zone to follow. He did. "And then we're going to ask if your girl wants some payback."