Confidence Trickster

 

Disclaimer: Zell?  Mine!  Squall?  Mine!  Quistis?  Mine too, along with the whole fucking Final Fantasy Franchise!  Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!  Muwahahahaha!  And I dare anyone, ANYONE AT ALL, to say otherwise…is not something that I’d say.  It is, in fact, something most likely to be heard from the MD of Squaresoft, and, if I were to let such a thing pass my lips it would be accompanied by a deeply sarcastic tone.

 

Author’s Notes: Ok, so I deleted Confidence Trickster, and now, well now I’m reposting it.  The reason for this, and yes there is a reason, is that I’ve overcome my bout of – shudder - The Block that stopped me continuing in the first place.  I have, however, decided that the whole thing needs a complete re-working.  This, the first half of the first chapter, while having been majorly tweaked, is all that will remain of this fic’s previous incarnation in tact.  I apologise to the people who reviewed before, but this is pretty much a whole new fic, so I’m treating it as such, and I suggest everyone else do the same, even this is quite different to its original form.

 

*  *  *  *

Do you have any idea what it is to be alone?  I’m not sure.  You had Rinoa, you had Seifer, you even had Quistis, but you never knew about that until it didn’t matter anymore.  But then, none of them ever made it through to you did they, none but Rinoa, and we all know where that ended up.  Who do you think will be in therapy longer?  You?  Her?  Or me?  Screwed up as I am I could keep the local shrink in designer suits and classic cars for the rest of his life.  And it’s all because of you.  Sometimes I hate you for it, I really, really, hate you for it.  I hate you and it hurts me so much.  I hate you and it’s killing me.  You’re killing me.  I couldn’t see it before, but I can now, quite clearly in fact.  You’re so blind, and because of that, Squall Leonhart, you’ll be the death of me.

I’m looking at you now, and you’re beautiful.  It knew that before, of course, but it never meant as much as it does now.  Now it does because everyone knows how beautiful you are.  It’s not just me standing alone and looking on, now the whole world is standing next to me and gawping at you; their saviour.  Now the whole world’s seen you, and they all want you, just like I do, but there are millions of them, and only one of me.  It’s more likely that one of them will get you, not me.  I’ll be alone, and I won’t even be able to look at you anymore.  They’ll have snatched you away from me.  But I’ll make the most of having you here before they do.  But, will I have enough time?  Maybe they’ll throw you back when they find out what you’re really like.  They’re in love with Squall the mythic hero who saved them, and you know what?  The man is no match for the legend.

Unfortunately it wasn’t the legend I fell for, otherwise I wouldn’t be stuck here now.  There’s a fact.  But stuck here I am.  I wish it was the legend that I loved, that way I could have turned my back and carried on walking when I saw you for what you really are; a fraud, a confidence trickster.

Funny thing to call you, that, it makes you sound like you dress up as a Gas man and rob old ladies when they let you in to read the metre.  If I said it out loud it would probably go right over your head.  That’s partly why I love you, in some ways you’re so simple.  You probably don’t even think I’m capable of such a profound thought, but you’d be surprised.  I think an awful lot when it comes to you.

Just wondering, if I were the one to disappear, would you consider it a loss?  If it was me who wandered off into the great blue yonder, left you, SeeD, Garden, and our friends, would you miss me?  How about if I died, if you really did kill me?  Would you cry for me?  You crying’s not an image I ever got before, but I think like that a lot now.  I have a feeling we’ll find out if you’d cry for me soon, sooner than I’d like.  Cry for me please?  Only if you want to though.  Don’t cry if the tears aren’t real.  I don’t want you crying because it’s what people expect, or it’s what’s appropriate.  And on the other hand, if you want to cry, do it.  Don’t hold it in, I know how it feels to hold something inside that you need to let out.  It’s not nice.  It’s so you, though.

That’s what I mean about you, being the legend.  You hide behind this wall that people have built up around you, and I was here before they made you that wall, and they’ve fenced me in with you.  I’ve got the real you, and they have their hero.  But still, you let as much go around me as you do around them.  All I want from you is a genuine bit of emotion, and that’s something I doubt even you the legend could deliver.  I’ll suffer in silence, I’ll keep it to myself, and I’ll take what I can get.  They’re the only options I have left.

 

Zell, xxx

*  *  *  *

“Zell!”

Hearing his name, Zell closed the book and looked up to watch Quistis approach from the sea, her arms folded across her chest to protect her modesty in her swimsuit.  The older woman pushed her wet hair away from her face and smiled.  She bent down, picked up her towel, and shook the sand off of it vigorously before settling with Zell on his to dry herself.

“What’re you up to then?”  She nodded at the black book Zell was holding protectively.

“Nuffin’, jus’ writin’ me journal, baby!”  He grinned and waved the book at her.  “In case of GF induced amnesia.”

“Why?”  She wore a humorous half-frown.  “Going somewhere?”

“No…” He frowned too, a more serious one than hers.

“So, you’re not going anywhere, do you even have a GF Junctioned at the moment?”  He shook his head, his blue eyes narrowed in an attempt to figure out where this was going.  “So what makes you think you’ll forget him?”

“’Him?’”  He looked puzzled.

“Don’t play dumb, Zell.”  Quistis flicked her damp hair at him in mock reproach.  Him.  Squall!”  She pointed across the beach towards the water she had just left, her finger aimed directly at the chestnut-haired, grey-eyed SeeD commander who stood knee-deep in the cold sea, scowling darkly at Selphie as she tried to shepherd him deeper.  “If you’re not going anywhere, what makes you think you’ll forget him?”

Zell blushed, drawing up his knees across his blue towel and dropping his chin against them.  “What makes you think I was writing about him?”  He rubbed nervously at his calve with the corner of his journal.

“Just a theory I have, that the only thing that can make you think,” her head disappeared as she rubbed at it with her towel.  “Is him,” she finished when she emerged.

He stared at her with pretend fury.  “The only thing?  That’s it!  Feel my wrath Quisty!”  He took a playful swipe at her head with his book; half hoping he would hit her so the conversation would stop before he told her anything.  He had a problem about telling lies in general, but to Quistis it was damn near impossible.

“Aha!” she chuckled as she ducked the swinging book.  “Diversionary tactics.  Trying to hide something Dincht?”

“Hide something, what on Earth would I want to hide?”

“I don’t know,” Quistis remarked in a manner that said quite plainly that she did know, she just wouldn’t say.  “But you were staring at him so hard I though he would spontaneously combust!”  The blonde man rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well,” he snatched his bag close and shoved his journal inside roughly.  “Jus’ can’t help myself sometimes.”

“Sarcasm?”  Her icy cool eyes fixed Zell’s intense ones in a challenge, and he had to fight not to look away.  Eventually though, his eyes darted away from hers to Squall, who was now being harassed by Irvine as well as Selphie.

“I’d say about…forty-five percent sarcasm.”

“The other fifty-five percent?”

“Bitter honesty,” he gave her a wry grin before his eyes moved back to Squall.  “I mean, jus’ look at him.”  Quistis turned her head to watch Squall fending off Selphie and her sidekick who were engaging in a game of ‘Let’s pull down Squall’s swimming shorts’.  “Sometimes I really can’t help myself.  He’s…he’s…  You know what I mean.  You saw it before as well.”  Quistis nodded.

“He’s beautiful.”  Zell nodded.  Quistis knew exactly what he saw; it was the precise word he had used in his journal.

“And on top of that I…I, jus’” he smashed a fist against the sand and shot her a pained expression, and she didn’t need him to finish that sentence to know what he meant.  “Really I do…” his wistful tone confirmed Quistis’ speculation and she nodded, and they continued watching the three SeeDs in the water.  “But he’s such a bastard sometimes.”

Selphie let out something akin to a battle cry and leapt onto Squall’s back, then Irvine disappeared beneath the chill water’s unusually calm surface, Squall and the maniacally giggling Selphie soon followed.  A few seconds and several violent splashes later, Irvine surfaced, waving a pair of black shorts above his head.  He ran back to the beach, a little hindered by the fact that he was waist deep in water, waving the shorts back and forth all the way, Selphie followed swimming.  Even in the excitement of their victory she still had more sense than the Galbadian cowboy, but then, being short as she was, meant she wouldn’t get far running in the water anyway.

Squall broke the surface, already halfway through a demand that they bring his shorts back, but the two SeeDs merely danced about on the shore, the shorts held up like a banner, laughing.

“You’re not the boss here Squall!  Here you’re just a friend,” Irvine called back.  “Equal treatment!  Thems your orders!”

The two blondes seated on Zell’s towel watched, laughing at Squall’s distress, and Squall glared at them to cover his embarrassment and the blush creeping across his cheeks.  Irvine was right after all; he said he wanted to be treated just as they would anyone else.  Outside of Garden, he had told them, rank was irrelevant, and he was just one of the guys.  He had practically asked for the abuse.

Squall’s grey-eyes caught Zell’s, and the tattooed man on the beach could see the pleading in them, it was the closest to a request for help anyone ever got from Squall since Rinoa had left, and it was usually only Zell or Quistis that saw it.  Zell sighed.

“Selphie,” he called to the green-eyed cadet currently in possession of the trunks.  “Give ‘em back now.”

“Aww, come on, Zelly!”

He gave her an apologetic look.  “Selphie, don’t be a bitch.  Give ‘em back.”

“Sorry!  No can do!”  She grinned proudly at her deviousness.  “I don’t have them anymore!”  She threw the shorts to Irvine.

“Irve?”

“No way, man!”  The Galbadian’s answer was immediate.  “We got our superior in a real compromisin’ position.  Are you aware of the blackmail potential!”  He laughed, and Zell felt another desperate look from Squall.

Wearily, he began to push himself to his feet, but Quistis caught hold of his wrist.

“You don’t have to.  It’ll be good for him to suffer a little while longer.”  She grinned, her eyes alive with mischief.

“I know, but it won’t do me any good to watch him suffer a little while longer.”  He smiled at her and she gave his arm an understanding squeeze.  He stood and brushed sand from his legs, and Irvine took the opportunity to start running.

Zell was a martial artist, he was fitter than Irvine, and inevitably he caught up with him.  Unfortunately for squall’s sake, it wasn’t until after he had fed the shorts to an adamantoise he found dozing behind a rock.

The blonde came walking back along the beach massaging his knuckles and muttering.  Irvine came walking back along the beach massaging a crack in his skull and whining.

Selphie danced over to her longhaired lover.  “Aw, Irvy-poo!  You ‘kay?”

“He hit me!”

“Damn right!”  Zell shot the remark back at him over his shoulder as he made his way to his towel and Quistis, leaving Selphie to her motherings.

“Where are they?”

“Idiot fed ‘em to a turtle,” Zell stated as he kicked off his trainers.  He pulled his white tank top over his head, carefully so as not to mess up his hair which was gelled into a crest of vertical blonde spikes.  Zell had a second tattoo on his chest, larger than the one on his face which reached from his brow and down his cheek, it was a continuation of its tribal theme, and covered the left side of his chest in spidery black lines.  Zell picked up his baggy denim shorts and headed for the sea.

“Where are you going with those?” Quistis questioned.  If he gave them to Squall, Zell would have to wear a pair of soaking wet shorts for the journey back to Garden later.

Zell turned, continuing to walk backwards.  “They’re for Squall, he won’t come out wi’ nuffin’ on.”

“But what will you wear?”  Zell shrugged.

“These.”  He snapped the elastic waistband of his purple swim shorts.

“Zell, wait!”  But he had turned back around and ran straight for the water.  Quistis watched his back retreat into the grey sea, keeping his hair above the gentle waves.  Never one to miss an opportunity twice, Quistis glanced at Zell’s bag, then took his journal from it and flipped it open.

She looked up at Zell, teasing Squall with the denim shorts that were now dark and heavy with the water they had absorbed, and then back down at the book in her hands.  “Oh, Zell…”

 

 

A/N: Ta-da!  Confidence Trickster, chapter one!  It’s much better than my previous attempt, and if you didn’t read or can’t remember my previous attempt, you’ll just have to take my word for it.  I for one, think this is going to go quite well.  Anyone agree?  Disagree?  Don’t care?  If you can answer yes to those first two questions, give me a review.  If a yes to the third, don’t bother.