Little Black Book
By Alexis Logain
He had kept tabs on them. Squall squinted his eyes behind fashionable black sunglasses as the sun shone in his face. Behind the wheel of his shiny black convertible with it's sleek gray leather interior, he could go wherever he wanted. And sometimes, even places he had never wanted to return. Like Balamb. But as said sun shone in said face, glinting off the water and the ferry from Fisherman's Horizon slid into the dock of Balamb Island, he saw that it was too late to escape. So he simply waited for the gate to drop open and turned on the engine of his car. He had to be there. They were his friends and he had kept tabs on them - a fact they would be shocked to know. He owed them and he…okay, so Matron was making him do it.
After he had left Balamb-G, Squall instructed Quistis to send all of his mail to the orphanage, or if it was an emergency or really important, to simply email him. After a week, everyone and their mother was emailing him three times a day. So he simply stopped replying. Some got the hint, others didn't. Take Zell for example. It had been almost six years since Squall emailed, wrote, spoke with, or otherwise communicated with anyone he had been involved with during the Second Sorceress War, save Matron and Laguna. Matron was, well, Matron. She would always be a part of his life - she was the only human he conversed with on a regular basis on his own free will. Laguna…well, Squall did random diplomatic, mercenaric, and intelligence work for Laguna Loire. There were two and only two reasons why he did it: 1) He got paid. A lot. And 2) Squall got bored easily. But even after his six year impersonation of a male Shiva, Laguna still tried to make up for lost time, Matron still mothered, and Zell still emailed him once a week.
Squall had received Zell's email, coming on a Tuesday instead of a Friday, telling him about his and Quisty's wedding coming up soon. With a noncommittal '…Whatever,' Squall had deleted the email and put it out of his mind. Until, that is, Cid called Matron to inform her of the happy news and invitations for them both had come in the mail.
So now he was parked outside of Balamb-G, dressed to the nines in black slacks, a black silk shirt, and black sunglasses pressed to his face while tousled blonde/brown hair danced in the wind and he stared up at the giant school he once ran. He was still Commander of Balamb-G, still on payroll, and always would be - reward for his services as a weapon, of course. Scowling, Squall dug out a silver necklace from his glovebox - his Griever pendant. Along side of it was his Garden ID and, with faint irritation, he slipped the chain around his neck and drove to the parking entrance of Balamb-G, stopping when he got to a
guard."I'm sorry, but this is a restricted area," the guard grumbled. Squall tugged at his sunglasses and flashed his ID, which caused the guard to stutter. "Uh…uh…C-C-Commander! Sir!" Squall rolled his eyes. "N-n-nobody t-t-told me to e-e-expect - "
"They don't know I'm here," Squall replied slowly, somewhat bored with the man's reaction. "Keep it that way."
"Now let me in. And anyone touches my car - kill them." The gate flung open at the guard's signal and Squall peeled into the lot. "Home sweet fucking home."
Return to Archive | next