How Not To Date Blondes: Chapter One

[first-seventhe.livejournal.com]

Title: How Not To Date Blondes
Chapter One: In Which Two Blondes Express Frustration


Authors: first_seventhe and rosencrantz
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters/Pairings included: Quistis, Zell, Seifer, Cast (eventual Quistis/Zell)
Rating: M / R (Profanity, eventual mature situations)


Summary: Quistis is looking for another promotion. Zell is looking for some action with that cute library girl. And Seifer? He’s just looking for trouble.

Read it at ff.net here.

LJ version here.---

Disclaimer: Seventhe and Enkida have no rights to Final Fantasy VIII or any of the characters within. They mourn this fact regularly. Seventhe weeps discreetly over a little picture of Irvine. Enkida bawls openly over a large picture of Seifer. That's probably more than you good readers ever needed to know. Anyway, no profits are being made from the story, it's all in good fun. Notice that the word 'clean' has been markedly left out in that statement. Enjoy!

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Chapter 1: In Which Two Blondes Express Frustration

"Rinoa - no."

Quistis turned in the doorway to her office, one hand resting on the handle. Rinoa was looking up at her almost beseechingly - or would have been if not for that troublemaking smirk across her face.

"He's really, really nice, Quistis. And he's into you."

"Oh, good," Quistis replied, rolling her eyes. "Another Trepie?" She turned the handle, opening the door a crack.

"We didn't know the last one was a Trepie," Rinoa protested cheerfully. "He's just a normal student - only a little younger than you - does very well in his classes, too!" She glanced around and then leaned in, whispering conspiratorially: "He's blond. You like blondes."

"Rinoa, no." Quistis opened the door the full way, taking one step inside. "You don't need to keep setting me up with people. I mean it." She purposefully glanced at her watch. "Now, sorry, but I have to record all my grades before class."

Rinoa pouted momentarily, and then perked up again. "Can you at least help me study today?" She gave Quistis a rueful smile. "It's that battle tactics class - I'm horrid at it, and you're so good at that stuff. It would really help me out."

Quistis paused, but Rinoa looked so genuinely worried that she gave in. "All right," she said. "I have class at 15:30... meet me in the classroom half an hour before, and we'll go over some things."

"Thanks!" Rinoa gave her a bright grin. "I'm off to see Squall, but I'll meet you then! Oh," she added, giving Quistis a wink: "And think about that date, okay?"

Quistis nodded as she left, then quickly slipped into her office and closed the door behind her. She let out a light sigh of relief as she leaned up against the closed door momentarily, closing her eyes and enjoying the silence of the empty room.

It had been like this for weeks now - possibly months, Quistis thought ruefully. Ever since Selphie and Irvine had started dating, it had been like an official mission for Selphie and Rinoa: Operation Find Quistis a Nice Boyfriend. It was potentially a sweet gesture, but it had failed spectacularly: so far she'd been set up with five die-hard Trepies, four male and one female - "We were just covering all the bases!" Selphie had exclaimed in her defense when Quistis had cornered her about it - and all of the dates had been certifiable disasters. Though most hadn't even been official dates; Selphie and Rinoa had plotted out all sorts of tricks, and Quistis had innocently fallen for most of them before she'd figured out what was up.

She'd told Selphie and Rinoa to give it up. It wasn't that she didn't want someone in her life - it was a little hard, admittedly, watching Squall idly play with Rinoa's hair when he thought no one was looking - but overall, Quistis thought she could handle it. She just wasn't suited for a relationship, and - as a matter of pride - she certainly didn't need to be set up with a Trepie.

No, Quistis thought, finally flipping the lights on and settling down at her desk, she didn't really need to have someone like that. Her friends tried very hard to make her feel included, and she appreciated it (although on bad days, it only made her feel worse). It was more an issue of efficiency, as she looked at it. If she couldn't have it, that was life, and she'd be better off spending her days doing something more productive

She reached for the pile of graded essays, glancing at the manila folder resting, perfectly aligned, on the corner of her desk. Inside was her partially-completed application for Head Instructor. She'd been working on it piecemeal around her new class schedule. Filling out the detailed questionnaire had made her stop and think about herself in ways that made her slightly uncomfortable, and so Quistis had decided to take her time with the application; she'd never had to stop and wonder whether Head Instructor was really a suitable job for her, and whether she really wanted it.

She sighed, flipping her grade book open and turning back to the essays. It wasn't as if she had anything - or anyone - else to spend her time on now.

"Quisty? Quiiiiisty!"

Quistis looked up from the essay before her, pen poised over the paper, and wrinkled her brow. Her eyes darted towards the large window and she noted with some disappointment that her office was still hermetically sealed. With a quiet sigh, she tore off a sheet of paper from her notepad and began to scribble on it frantically.

"Quisty! There you are!" Selphie literally bounced into the room - Quistis always wondered how the girl managed to do that - and threw herself across the desk, sending the neatly ordered pile of essays flying.

"Hello, Selphie," Quistis sighed, not bothering to look up from her note.

"Whatcha doin'?" the perky girl asked, leaning forward and trying to peer over Quistis' hand.

"Writing a memo to Squall," Quistis replied. "We really need to get those fire escapes installed."

"Umm... okay," Selphie said, pulling herself up and smiling brightly. "So, did Rinoa talk to you about that date yet?"

Quistis carefully screwed the cap back onto her pen, willing her teeth not to grind. "There will be no date," she said sternly.

"But he's blond!" Selphie protested.

The cap of Quistis' pen cracked.

"Ooo-kaay," Selphie said warily, sliding off of the table. "So, no date then."

Opening a drawer in her desk, Quistis tossed the ruined pen into a slowly growing pile of its companions. She was either going to have to speak with Xu about bribing the Garden Supply Committee again or find new forms of stress management. Shutting it primly, she pulled off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Look, Selphie," Quistis began. She settled her glasses back onto her nose and pinned Selphie with an expert glare. "It's not that I don't appreciate what you and Rinoa are trying to do," she lied through her teeth. "But maybe you could just accept the fact that I don't need or want anyone in my life right now. Between the missions and the class work I simply don't have the time for things like dating."

Selphie's eyes grew wide and she cupped her cheeks in her hands dramatically. "That's so sad," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Sad?" Quistis raised an eyebrow, almost afraid to hear what her friend was about to say.

"You're pining away your youth and beauty over schoolwork, Quistis! If you keep this up, you're gonna turn into an old maid before you know it! You'll be known as Quistis Trepe, the only human being who ever managed to marry a Garden!"

"Well at least I love my work," Quistis replied flatly. Still, as the other girl continued to moan and gesture dramatically, she couldn't suppress the smile that was twitching over her lips. "Selphie," she interrupted gently. "Thank you for trying to help, but if I start dating it has to be on my own terms."

"When, not if!" Selphie insisted stubbornly. "What are you waiting for anyway? Don't tell me you don't have time, either. You wouldn't have this much work if you didn't volunteer to take so much in the first place! That's not healthy, Quisty."

Quistis sighed and leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling without really seeing it. "I suppose I'm waiting for the right guy," she admitted hesitantly. "If I'm going to waste time chasing after another person, then he has to be absolutely perfect."

"Oh?" Selphie said, sidling up to Quistis with a mischievous smirk. "And how exactly does the great Quistis Trepe define 'perfect'?"

Quistis blinked and eyed Selphie warily. "Even if I knew, what makes you think I'd be willing to share? Those things are private, Selphie. Besides - you and Rinoa would just try to set me up again."

Selphie pouted cutely. "And what's wrong with accepting a little help from your friends?"

"Every single attempt you two have made has ended up in disaster," Quistis replied, drumming her fingers over the tabletop. "Really, Selphie. I just need my own space and time," she pleaded.

"Hmm," Selphie hummed, squinting thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right... sorry if we've been bugging you lately, but we're just worried about you."

Worried. What was there to worry about? So she was single – big deal. With a pained nod, Quistis carefully adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose and began to collect the scattered essays. "I know. But Selphie? I really need to get some work done right now, so -" She trailed off as she noticed Selphie was swaying from side to side with a huge smirk. It was a sure sign that the smaller girl was planning something.

"He-ey, I know exactly what you need right now!" Selphie exclaimed. Her eyes lit up and she jumped in place eagerly. "Grab your whip, Quisty! I'm gonna take you on a stress management course, Tilmitt-style!"

Quistis sighed and dropped the stack of papers in her hand, eyeing her friend irately. "There's no hope of convincing you to leave this office without me, is there?"

"None at all!" Selphie happily agreed.

"Fine," Quistis capitulated, standing up and grabbing her whip off of the hook on the wall behind her desk. "But I can't stay out for too long. I still need to finish grading these essays, and I agreed to help tutor Rinoa before class this afternoon."

"Stop being such a worrywart," Selphie replied, grabbing Quistis' hand and pulling her out of the office. "We're just going to the Training Center anyway. Nothing spells relief better than blowing stuff up!"

"If you say so," Quistis answered with a laugh, allowing the energetic girl to drag her through the hallway. Selphie was always bursting with energy, ready to act spontaneously at the drop of a pin. In a way, she was envious of Selphie's ability to relax so easily; Quistis herself never felt entirely comfortable unless she was following a careful plan. Schedules and timetables ruled her life, while Selphie seemed revel in letting herself drift in any direction that the wind happened to blow. She had to admit that it was relaxing, even a little bit fun to let herself get caught up in her friend's whirlwind plots - so long as they didn't involve unwanted dates.

"This is gonna be great," Selphie gushed as she pushed open the doors of the Training Center and bounded down the dirt walkway. Quistis followed her more sedately, uncurling her whip and breathing in the humid jungle air of the large room.

"I don't see why you're getting so excited about fighting a few Grats..." Quistis stated, trailing off as she caught up with Selphie. The girl was chatting eagerly with another figure in the room - a man. She edged forward cautiously, the grip on her whip tightening, and analyzed the situation. Tall... brown haired and rather non-descript... shifty, unable to make eye contact. He rubbed his hands on his pants and Quistis silently added sweaty palms to her mental list. "Oh sweet Shiva, no." she muttered under her breath. As she'd feared, it was another Trepie.

"Oh, by the way, Quisty, this is my friend Marcus," Selphie was saying. "I hope you don't mind that I asked him to come along..." Quistis didn't bother to grace Selphie with an exasperated look. She was hoarding up her aggression in the hopes of creating a Limit Break; a little Shockwave Pulsar was looking more and more attractive by the second.

"Q-quisty?" Marcus repeated, smiling at her nervously.

"Quistis," she corrected instantly. Then she smiled thinly at him. "Though that will be Instructor Trepe to you." If looks could kill, Marcus would have already been drawn and quartered. "Selphie, I thought you weren't planning anything."

"Oh, tee hee.... did I say that?" Selphie replied gleefully, tucking her hands behind her back and taking a few steps backwards. To her credit, she only stumbled rather than froze when Quistis' head snapped towards her. "I can see you two are getting along fabulously already! And I, uh..."

"You what," Quistis said calmly. Too calmly; sweat broke out on Selphie's forehead and she stepped back several more paces.

"I-really-gotta-meet-with-Irvine-so-I'll-be-going-bye-now!" she yelled, waving quickly and bolting for the door.

"... she's going to pay for this," Quistis murmured dangerously. Marcus' nervous cough caught her attention and she turned to face him. She winced as he grabbed her free hand and began to pump it up and down.

"It's so g-good to f-finally grab - greet! I mean greet you!" he yelped.

Quistis sighed silently and tried not to roll her eyes, extracting her bruised hand from his overly-tight grip. "Marcus, is it? I'm not sure what exactly Selphie told you to expect, but if you're here for a date I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you."

"O-oh? Oh," he replied, looking crestfallen.

Quistis felt a tug of pity for the hapless student and gave him a wane smile. "I really am very sorry for this misunderstanding." She winced as Marcus' face lit up like a radioactive Glow-Bug at her words.

"N-no, it's fine," he exclaimed, stepping closer to her. "S-so what's your sign?" he asked her hopefully.

Quistis pulled out her whip and snapped it loudly, noting his panicked jump with some satisfaction. "I put as much stock in astrology as I do in blind dates," she told him bluntly. Then she pursed her lips in a troubled frown. "Where's your weapon, anyway?"

"W-weapon?" Marcus asked cluelessly. As if on cue, the bushes behind him rustled suspiciously, and he whirled around and froze. "What was that?" he whimpered as Quistis stepped past him.

Quistis felt a headache rapidly approaching. Sometimes she wondered how some of the weaker-willed recruits managed to be accepted into the Gardens at all. "You're almost a full SeeD, cadet!" she barked at him, falling easily into her Instructor mode. "You should be able to handle a few Grats without problems!" Marcus hadn’t even moved. “Do something,” she snapped. “Are you even Junctioned?”

Instead of responding, his face turned white and he slowly raised a trembling arm, shakily pointing at the bushes behind her.

With a sinking feeling, Quistis turned to look and was greeted by a blast of warm air. The bushes had parted to reveal the speckled, leathery red snout of a fully grown T-Rexaur. Two bright, dimly intelligent yellow eyes peered down at them, sizing them up hungrily. Then it reared onto its hind legs and let out a ground-shaking roar.

Marcus fainted.

"Perfect," Quistis muttered, snapping her whip again. "Just perfect."

.x.x.x.

Quistis shut off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel and drying herself off briskly. Her gaze landed on the soggy pile that was her uniform and she sighed loudly. It had taken her ages to work the blood out of her hair alone, and she was certain that her jacket was completely ruined.

On the plus side, the fury and frustration had translated itself rather easily into a Limit Break, so the battle hadn't been particularly difficult - only messy.

"I hate blind dates," she mumbled to herself, stepping into her room and pulling out her battle dress. Quistis always felt uncomfortable appearing before her students in anything less than her formal SeeD uniform, but she was running much too late to stop by the supply room for a replacement. The trip to the infirmary had taken much longer than she expected, though she was thankful that Dr. Kadowaki had asked her no questions.

"Another date?" was all the good doctor had commented as she tended to the hapless cadet Quistis dragged in.

"If this keeps up, my reputation is going to eclipse Seifer's," Quistis grumbled to herself. Then she paused and brightened slightly. "Though I suppose that could mean less dates." Her gaze fell onto the clock on her wall, and she cursed silently under her breath and quickly twisted her damp hair into its usual clip. Grabbing a few folders off of her desk, she gave her dorm a brief final appraisal before leaving.

When she arrived at her classroom, she was still sorting through her notes and attempting to cobble together her lesson plan. "Rinoa, I'm sorry I'm late, but -" She stopped and looked up, her eyes narrowing. She blinked once, then twice, and carefully closed the folder in her hand. "You're not Rinoa," she observed.

"No, I'm not," the young and very suspiciously blond cadet who was leaning against her desk replied. To his credit, he didn't appear to be a Trepie; they usually didn't have the self-confidence to look her in the eye, let alone lean against her desk. HER desk. Quistis felt her eyebrow tick and smoothed a placid smile over her face.

"I suppose something came up, and Rinoa sent you to take her place?"

"Something like that," the cadet replied, smiling charmingly at her. "I'm Jens."

Quistis leaned against the door, considering him. He wasn't bad-looking, she had to admit; Rinoa did at least have good taste in men. He was also more confident than the average Trepie, which was a nice change of pace. She toyed with the idea of giving him a chance; maybe Selphie and Rinoa were right. She had been feeling vaguely unsatisfied with her work for the past few weeks, and they were only looking out for her. And, considering how badly all of their other set-ups had gone to date, the law of averages stated that she was due for a break. Still...

"You're on my desk," Quistis finally answered, moving behind him and dropping her folders onto the tabletop.

"So I am," Jens replied, uncrossing his arms and leaning back. "Care to join me?" he asked her suggestively.

Quistis stared at him in shock. Landing this many bad dates in a row should have been statistically impossible. "Will you please remove yourself from my desk?" she asked him frigidly. "I have a class that I need to teach here in less than half an hour."

Jens did step away from her desk, but rather than leave the room, he simply turned around and leaned forward, planting his hands squarely over her paperwork and pulling his face dangerously close to hers. The wild idea of gnashing her teeth and biting off his nose flashed through Quistis' head, but she discarded it immediately; Jens would probably have interpreted it as foreplay. Besides, she wasn't ready to ruin her peach vest over a date as well… at least, not yet.

"But I need help with my lessons, instructor," Jens purred. He leaned in closer and Quistis instinctively drew back in disgust. "I'd like it if you could teach me something new."

Quistis sighed to herself silently. Then she smiled at Jens, tilting her head and pursing her lips seductively. "Why not?" she whispered breathily. "Lesson one. Lure the enemy with bait." She licked her lips slowly, and Jens unconsciously swayed forward. Quistis brought her hand to his neck and toyed with the collar of his uniform. "And then..." she murmured.

"... and then?" Jens repeated eagerly.

"Strike with chaos," Quistis replied, pulling the strings of his uniform tie together so tightly that he gagged. Keeping her fingers hooked into the tie, she stepped around her desk, dragging him after her. "Lesson two. If your enemy is off balance, press hard so he will fall," she continued. She released her grip on the tie and casually slipped her foot behind his ankle, causing him to trip and go sprawling across the floor in an undignified heap.

Jens scrambled to his feet, coughing and sputtering as he grabbed at his neck. "You bitch!" he yelled, glaring at her wildly. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"Lesson three," she told him. "Strong words, coupled with an aggressive advance, are a sure sign of impending retreat." Jens' mouth opened and closed, and Quistis crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "That was my last piece of free advice, cadet. I suggest you take it if you don't want to jeopardize your future with Balamb Garden."

Jens paled and then swore under his breath, exiting the room quickly. Quistis watched his hasty retreat with a satisfied smile. It dropped as her thoughts turned onto her two meddling friends and her headache returned full blast. Their morning breakfast-and-coffee meeting tomorrow was going to be interesting if she had anything to say about it.

.x.x.x.

"Aw, nuts."

Zell drooped in the entrance to the Cafeteria. He was late again: the sneaker he'd thrown at his alarm clock had not only dislodged the giant plastic happy face, but knocked it off his dresser completely, unplugging it in the act. He'd meant to be early today. Early people got to be first in line for the bagels and strawberry cream cheese. Early people got orange juice before it went rancid.

And, he thought, people who ate breakfast early could be at the Library when it opened - before it got busy.

Recovering from his slump - hey, there would always be pancakes - Zell struck off at a jog over to the table where he'd spotted Quistis, Selphie and Rinoa. Quistis was currently pointing a fork rather maliciously across the table at the other two girls, who were giggling madly.
"- I'm serious! No more set-ups, both of you." Quistis brandished the fork violently for good measure. "You're starting to hurt my feelings."

The two girls stopped giggling instantly and Zell froze, wincing as his sneakers squeaked slightly on the floor. This sounded like a conversation he didn't really want to get involved in. He was really, really bad at girl talk, especially the serious kind.

"Quistis," Rinoa explained softly, "we just wanted to help."

"Why would that hurt your feelings?" Selphie asked, more confused than actually upset.

Using what he called his super-secret stealth mode, Zell began to slowly back away from the table. He didn't get all this girly feelings-stuff they were always talking about, and he'd only be intruding. He'd learned the hard way not to be around an angry Quistis, too.

"Because you're not listening to me at all," Quistis said matter-of-factly, stabbing at the air with the fork again to punctuate her words. Rinoa jumped back slightly, surprised - which put Zell almost directly into her line of sight.

"Zell!" she squealed, too obviously pleased at being off the hook.

Nuts. He froze, realizing he'd been caught in a fairly ridiculous-looking position. "Uh, good morning, ladies," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm off to... get some... pancakes! Yeah, uh, pancakes. You guys need anythin’?"

Quistis primly took a bite of her bagel - covered with strawberry cream cheese, he noted pointedly. "No thanks," she said.

"More coffee," Rinoa chirped, holding her empty cup out to Zell. It was a cup she'd bought for Squall - a bright red one reading Who's Your Daddy! in white letters - but had inherited after Squall had firmly refused to use it. Squall refused to acknowledge anything that had to do with Laguna, though, so it hadn’t been a big surprise. Zell nabbed the cup, bowing to Rinoa, who giggled.

He ran into Irvine on the way to the buffet table; the cowboy grinned and tipped his hat, and Zell furtively examined his tray. Irvine appeared to have pancakes - so there was still hope.
He loaded up a tray of his own - pancakes, a muffin and bacon, because bacon was almost as good as hot dogs - and filled Rinoa's coffee, almost dropping it as he swiped his card at the end of the line. He glanced at the clock as he sat down. The Library had only been open for half an hour - if he ate quickly, he could probably still get there before too many people showed up.

Zell knew lots of people thought it was funny that he spent time in the Library, of all places, but people just didn’t get it. Someone had told him a while ago that the cute girl in the library had a crush on him, and although he'd waved that off as humorously wrong, he'd also found himself hanging around the library a lot more often. He'd checked out a lot of impressive-looking books (ones he'd never touched) when he heard her softly congratulate someone on their grades. And he'd even picked up a form for Instructorship last week, after hearing her admit she wasn't cut out for Combat SeeD but would like to go into academia.

He'd finally made up his mind to ask her out, but the past week had been a nightmare. Every time he'd come into the library, she'd been surrounded by either nosy friends or annoying students. Zell bit heartily into a piece of bacon, shaking his head. He'd thought up the idea of waking up early - which he hated! - in order to catch her alone, but even that had been foiled, even if it had been by his own sneaker.

"Slow down, Zell," Irvine drawled, "Food ain't runnin' off the table or anythin'."

Zell looked up to stick his bacon-coated tongue out at Irvine, but was distracted mid-face by a familiar sight. He barely heard Selphie squealing with disgust as he watched a familiar dark pigtail bounce itself around the corner.

"I gotta go, guys," he said, bolting up from his chair.

"Where's he going?" he heard Irvine ask behind him as he left; Quistis replied with something he couldn't hear but automatically assumed was either scathing or boring, knowing Quistis.
He took off down the crowded hallway at a jog, bursting into the library to find - a bored-faced boy behind the computer desk.

"Where's Piggy?"

The boy looked at him, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Who?"

"The girl who works here," Zell replied, nearly out of breath from his run down the halls. "Shy girl, with a pigtail?"

"Ah." Yes, the eyes were narrowing even more, the brow furrowing. "Why?"

"I -" Zell fumbled with words in his mouth for a moment. "I wanted to ask her something, that's why," he said defensively.

The boy shifted, slightly. "Oh, really," he said, eyes definitely slitted now. "And what was that?" He shifted again, to bring the bars on his uniform into prominent view. “I’m on the Library Committee too, you know.”

"I, ah - I wanted to ask her for some books," Zell said, leaning back against the counter in a way he hoped looked nonchalant. "I'm gonna be an Instructor, see?"

One eyebrow quirked in what was obvious doubt; You, an Instructor? was written clearly across the boy's face. "That's funny," he said slyly. "She was just talking about that last week."

"Yeah, well," Zell said breezily, "I've been plannin’ it for a while, I'm just..." He caught himself before he said lazy. "Busy, that's all."

The boy eyed him in silence for a long, awkward moment, and then leant back in his chair. "Well, she's in a study room. A private one." He paused just long enough to watch the disappointment seep across Zell's face, and then added for good measure: "And you have bacon on your face."

Zell flushed and swiped at his face quickly, groaning silently as small greasy bits of meat flaked away in his palm. "Thanks for nothin', Squinty," he muttered under his breath.

The boy frowned at him. "I do have a name, you know. So does Piggy."

"Yeah, yeah," Zell mumbled, still scrubbing at his chin and not really listening to the exasperated boy. "So, uh, you know when'll she be gettin’ out?"

"Yes - I do," Squinty replied with emphasis. The silence stretched thin between them as Zell waited expectantly for him to continue.

"Well, are you gonna tell me or what?" Zell finally yelled, slapping a balled fist onto the countertop.

"Keep your voice lowered while you're in the library or I'll have to ask you to leave," the boy replied smugly, folding his hands together and leaning back in the chair.

Zell rolled his eyes and groaned to himself. "Man, you nerds are so uptight," he mumbled. The comment did cause Squinty to sit up angrily and open his mouth for a sharp reply, but before he could say anything, another librarian emerged from the back room. This one was a short, red-haired girl with a liberal sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose; Zell remembered seeing her hanging out with the pigtailed girl frequently. She stopped as she saw him, clearly surprised to find Zell in the Library so early in the morning.

"Oh - hello, Zell! Do you need some help?" she asked him uncertainly.

Squinty mumbled something under his breath, but Zell ignored him in favor of trying his luck with the new girl. "Yeah, actually, I'm looking for the pigtailed girl that usually works here..."

"Oh, of course!" Freckles replied, the confusion melting into amused comprehension. "She's filing some books in the aisle right now, but she should be coming back soon. Hey, wait a minute, where are you going?"

Papers flew off of the countertop as Zell whirled away and sprinted for the back of the room. "Thanks!" he called out over his shoulder, not bothering to slow down and listen to the girl's objections as he disappeared between the shelves. He raced up and down the aisles, his heart pounding almost as loudly as his feet were on the floor, and came to a screeching halt when he finally spotted her.

There she was... the pigtailed girl of his dreams, humming softly to herself as she carefully inserted books back into their proper place on the shelves. A low cart stacked with unsorted books was next to her, and she was standing halfway up the sliding ladder, filing away the few in her hands onto the upper shelves. Zell felt his mouth dry out; she really was cute, concentrating so single-mindedly on her work that she didn't even notice him standing there. She was filled with smiles and curls and bounces that made him feel like an awkward, tongue-tied little kid when he was around her. Quickly, he stepped behind one of the shelves before she could spot him and peered at her between the books surreptitiously.

"This is it," Zell mumbled to himself nervously. "She's finally alone with me! This is my big chance to ask her out..." He swallowed thickly and clenched his fists together, willing himself to step out from his hiding place. His feet weren't paying attention however, so he closed his eyes and took a deep breath and tried to work up his courage. Time Compression? No problem. Ultimecia? Piece of cake. But pigtails? Sheer and utter panic.

"It's just a girl!" Zell told himself quickly. "I'm not a wuss. I can do this!" One step, then another, and then he was no longer hidden from her sight. I can do this! He opened his eyes and his mouth at the same time, and then the air rushed out of his lungs in a deflated gasp.

Standing next to the pig-tailed girl was none other than the squinty boy himself; how the little guy had managed pass Zell unnoticed was a mystery probably known only to the Library Committee. At any rate, he had beat Zell to the punch – to Piggy, that is - and was helpfully passing her books from the cart and talking with her. Flirting with her, Zell noticed, feeling his face flush angrily.

"Hey!" he yelled, rushing forward. "That's not fair! I was here first!"

"Zell!" The pig-tailed girl looked up with a startled gasp and dropped the book in her hands, turning a bright shade of red. It only made her look that much cuter, and Zell felt the words he had been planning to say leave him in a whoosh.

The strained romantic tension between Zell and the pig-tailed girl didn't have quite the same vocabulary-robbing effect on the squinting librarian, however, who smirked at Zell smugly. "Excuse me, but this area is for library staff only."

"Huh? What?" Zell blinked and looked around. Then he frowned and twisted, studying the surrounding shelves. Books, books, and more books. Nothing special about that, they were in a library after all. "No it ain't!" he protested stubbornly. "Prove it!"

"Umm," the pigtailed girl replied, blushing even more fiercely. She pointed delicately at the ceiling.

Hanging above his head was a huge red sign with large, unmistakable yellow letters block-printed across it. "RESTRICTED AREA - STAFF ONLY," it mocked him.

"I... uh... I didn't see that!" Zell mumbled, rubbing the back of his head and flushing hotly.

"Quite alright," Squinty replied in a patronizing tone. "There are plenty of people your age who are still illiterate. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Zell winced, his temper flaring; he knew the little bastard was purposely trying to make him look foolish in front of Piggy. "I can read! I ain't all that dumb!" he spluttered, pointing a finger at Squinty. Then he redirected his finger to the pig-tailed girl, who squeaked in surprise. "Just you wait, I'm going to become a SeeD Instructor!" he told her hotly. The girl's mouth dropped open in shock, and Zell's jaw clenched. What was up with everyone? He was getting really tired of seeing that expression cross peoples' faces every time he showed up in the Library. Zell knew he wasn't the brightest light bulb at the Garden, but damn it, he wasn't exactly chopped Grat either, was he? "You'll see," he promised them both, turning on his heel and sprinting out of the library.

He rushed past the confused freckled girl at the front desk, nearly knocked more than a few students to the ground as he barreled through the hallway and finally came to a stop, heaving and panting, before his own dorm room. Kicking the door open, he stomped over to his desk and dug around underneath the comic books and scattered notes until he found what he was looking for. With a grunt of triumph, he pulled out the wrinkled manila envelope and tore it open hastily. The application form slipped out and fell into his hands, and snatching a pen off of the table Zell threw himself on the bed and began to scribble on it immediately.

"I'll show 'em," he mumbled to himself with a fierce scowl. "Hey, I saved the world after all. This Instructor stuff should be a piece of cake!" Then his pen slowed and his brow furrowed in confusion. The first few lines of the application had been simple enough; name, rank and student ID. The next question threw him for a loop, though.

"Briefly describe why you wish to become a Garden Instructor and what goals you hope to accomplish through the position."

Zell gnawed on the end of his pen. Dating Piggy and stickin' it to that little squinty-eyed little runt didn't seem like the optimal answer, so after a few more moments of consideration he decided to skip it and move on to the next question. Unfortunately, that one wasn't any easier than the first.

"Provide a comprehensive list of your skills, both martial and academic."

Zell quickly scribbled down the word "fighting." Then frowning, he crossed it out, writing "fist fighting" in its place. After a moment, he crossed that out as well and wrote in "martial arts." That seemed easy enough; it was the second part of the question that gave him pause. "Academic skills?" he mumbled to himself. The most he could remember about his classes usually involved which positions were easiest to maintain when sleeping through a lecture, or how to access the Balamb computer chat and email programs from the communal desks without alerting the instructors. With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair. "Skip!" he yelled, moving on to the next question.

"Argue the merits and weaknesses of Garden policy concerning non-interference in civil disputes between developed and underdeveloped parties as outlined in section 23-A, paragraph 113, sub-paragraph 2a. Cite all supplementary sources used."

"Huh?" Zell mumbled, staring at the paper dumbly. He re-read the question twice, and then decided to find his SeeD manual in the hopes of translating it into something understandable. That task was easier said than done; half an hour later, Zell was sitting in the middle of the center of a messy pile, frustrated and still empty-handed. He let himself fall backwards onto the floor, hitting his head against the hard tiles with a dull thunk.

"Why would anyone put themselves through this crap?" Zell complained out loud, rolling his eyes upward. Then he rolled over and scrambled to his knees with a broad smile. "There you are!" he yelled, hefting up his desk and pulling the dog-eared SeeD manual out from underneath the table leg. The now-wrinkled application was pressed smoothly on the floor next to the book as Zell flipped through it impatiently; finally, he found Section 23-A. It was sixteen pages long. Four of those pages were dedicated to paragraph 113, and two more were listed for sub-paragraph 2a. Zell dropped his head onto the floor and slammed the manual shut with a hopeless groan.

"I'm screwed."



Notes: Updated version, 07/02/07.