Seifer frowned. "This isn't funny, Janine."
"Who the hell says I'm making a joke? What's so bad about talking?" She pointed at him. "You can't sit there on that nice ass of yours and tell me you haven't been curious to know what the hell I do when I'm not at work, or before I was here, or before I joined Garden." She pointed at herself. "And I sure as hell won't say I haven't wondered about you. So why not? Why the hell not talk about it? Trusting someone with shit we haven't told anyone else? Damn! No greater rush than that!"
His eyes narrowed as he regarded her. Janine held his gaze without a problem this time. "You're serious! Larabie, I'm Head of Netw--"
Janine grimaced as she said "Hell. I know that, babe. I'm not asking you to tell me the secrets about your work. I know how that toilet flushes anyway. I want to know about you."
Seifer stood. "What the hell does it matter?" He stalked toward the door, trying to ignore the sound of her slipping out of bed and stepping after him with bare feet on the floor.
"See? There's the rush. The thrill of the confession and the risk of the trust. That is what I'm talking about."
Seifer stared down at the doorknob as he felt Janine wrap her hand around his upper arm.
"I know it. People like us don't do things like this. The 'Sally Regals' and the 'Squall Leonharts' and 'Zell Dinchts' open their hearts or their flies and risk it all. And you notice something? They've got a different kind of thrill every day of their lives." Janine pushed and pulled at his arm until faced her. Seifer stared down into those brown eyes flashing a challenge he didn't want to read. "So why not?" she asked. "What the hell are we so scared of that we can't do the same thing?"
He wrenched his arm free. "I'm not scared of anything."
"Then you're doing a helluva lot better than me."
A first confession. Fear. People like them didn't admit to fear.
Janine held his gaze. "I dared you once to 'Bring it', and damned if you didn't. Best not-yet-sex dare and thrill I can remember, too." She crossed her arms. "Now I guess I'm daring you again. Are you going to 'Bring it'? Or bow out?"
Seifer clenched his jaw.
"If you bow out," Janine continued, "that's okay. Don't blame you one bit. I'd do it myself except the thrill's got me so much by the throat I know I'd regret it." She made a slashing motion with her arm. "It won't change a damn thing between us, either. You're still one helluva sexy man, more because you haven't given in to what we both want, and damned more exciting than anyone else I've met at Garden. It's just that I want to try a different thrill, and this happens to be the one I want to try."
He could only glower down at her, thoughts completely blocked off.
"I know. At least think about it. Bring me some coffee tomorrow morning and you can let me know then."
Seifer turned and grabbed the doorknob to open the door.
Yet again, Janine's grip halted his exit. "It won't change anything, babe; you saying 'no'."
--Death is answering 'no.' Seifer's grip tightened on the doorknob. He shot her a sidelong look. "Personal stories, Janine. You're asking me to tell personal damn stories!"
"I'll tell you one of mine for each one of yours."
Seifer glowered at the door again. He wanted to know. About the burn on her hip. The scar on her neck below her left ear. The scarring on her scalp on the back of her head. The discoloration on the inside of her thigh. The surgery scar on her right knee. "Shit."
Janine moved to stand between him and the door, her fingers curling around the belted waist of his black slacks. "My baby brother calls me Janey because he could never get the second 'n' in there. He's mentally handicapped."
Seifer stared down at her. For the first time he felt the cold hardness of sheer horror. "Don't, Janine."
"Why not? We're SeeD. We keep top-secret information to ourselves every day of our lives. Classified missions. Need-to-know facts." She leaned in until he could feel her slight breath on his face. "My baby brother calls me Janey because he can't get the seco--"
Seifer pressed his lips against her mouth to stop the repeated confession. Garden was his life. How could he be held responsible for their secrets and hers? He pulled back. "Don't."
Janine held his gaze, and he saw the fear. She knew the risk in trusting him. He was an ass. He could use this information she offered for his own jollies; he'd done it before. But she gave it anyway. He lifted a hand to cup the back of her neck and caressed her mouth with his, teasing a line from her cheek and along her jaw to her neck. She pressed herself closer, her arms surrounding him as her breath feathered his skin.
Then Seifer pulled back, only far enough for her to be able to read his lips, and his eyes closed as he said "I was scared of the dark until I was twelve."
...and damn was it a thrill.
Chapter Seven
The Wrong Question
"What the hell are you doing?"
Janine pressed her forehead against the door of her room before meeting Seifer's irritated expression. "Babe, I told you: I can't ta--"
Seifer pushed her firmly but gently aside, taking her keys and unlocking the door again. "Doctor's orders, Larabie. You're in bed until she re-examines you." He opened the door and pushed her inside.
Janine let him push and nudge her over to her bed and then down to sit on the edge. "Damn it, Seifer. Don't make me stay in here. I'm about to go nuts. Can't I veg in the library or something?"
He lifted her feet and tugged off her sneakers one by one--she still wore her gray pajama shorts--and then guided her legs up onto the bed. "No." He put his hands under her arms and lifted her back, then lifted the blankets up and over her. "You're staying here."
"I bet if it had been you or Squall with a head-wound you'd been up and around yesterday without a damned negative word against it."
Seifer straightened. "Larabie, quit bitching."
"And why the hell should I do that? I want to have fun and you won't let me because of some crazy doctor's orders that I have to stay in bed for 24 hours!" She tossed off the blankets and slipped out of bed, standing directly in front of him. "I'm fine. I'm telling you I've had worse scrapes than this and been up and around in less than two!"
Seifer pushed her down onto the bed again, lifting her feet and legs up and then covering them with the blanket. He pressed his fists into the bed on either side of her as he stared into her frown. "You're staying here."
Janine crossed her arms. "I'm not some tender flower that needs to be coddled and cooed over. Shit."
Seifer's lips twitched. "Did I say it?"
"Didn't have to. Why the hell else won't you let me out and down to the doctor's to prove I'm fine?" She pointed at him. "I nearly got your ass, so why the hell do you think I should still be here?"
Seifer reached up to press hard on the bandage. Janine's face paled and her eyes glazed. He lowered his hand. "That's why."
"Ow." She glared at him. "Asshole. You didn't have to do that. All you had to do was strip and get in bed and I would've gladly stayed."
Seifer's lips twitched again as he straightened. "Can't. No time."
"Like hell. You're the Head of Network Security. Surely you can call in sick once in a while."
"I'm the Head of Network Security. I can't call in sick."
"So I'm just supposed to hole up here bored out of my mind?" Janine crossed her arms again. "So what the hell are you doing here, then? Rubbing my face in the fact I barely scratched you and you've got me flat on my back? Where's the security keeping your ass in bed?"
"I rank them."
Janine scoffed. "Hell. You rank everyone in your twisted mind."
"Damn straight. But." He pulled his shirt out of his slacks, unbuttoned it, and pulled it aside to show a bandage on his right side. "Ten stitches. Feel better?"
Janine stared at it with wide eyes. "You were going back to work and then carrying me around with that oozing under your shirt?" She looked up.
Seifer refastened the buttons, smirking down at her. "Adrenali
ne. Natural pain-killer."
"Hell, I know that. Why do you think I was able to get you your damned coffee, which I noticed you slopped all over your shoes and the carpet. Maintenance is going to be thrilled with that little present." Silence. "Seifer, will you get your ass over here and kiss me already? Damn."
He leaned in, pressing his fists against the bed on either side of her. "You don't rank me, Larabie."
Janine wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. "Who said a damn thing about rank?" She teased his mouth with hers, drawing him closer until he could fell almost every one of her curves.
Seifer tried to pull back and chuckled against her mouth when she resisted. "Janine."
She smiled against his mouth, nipping and nibbling. "Shut up."
His arms surrounded her, drawing her close before he completely lost balance--He gripped her arms and pushed back. "Damn it, Janine," he protested gruffly. "I don't have time.
"Hey. You can't blame a girl for trying. I mean, hell, you left out of here last night just when it was getting interesting, kissing me like that and then taking off like a bat out of hell." She kissed him again, albeit shorter. "Damn control freak."
Seifer chuckled and pushed her back into the pillows, tucking the blankets around her. "Controlling someone like you is a rush, Janine. Can't pass."
She smirked and grabbed the belt of his slacks to tug him closer. "Don't know what the hell you're talking about. I'm a kitten." And she purred for effect.
He pulled her hands from his slacks and straightened, glancing to his watch as he pointed at her. "You keep your sweet ass in that bed."
"Can't promise a thing unless I have something to keep me occupied."
One side of Seifer's lips twitched upward. Then a serious darkening to his green eyes warped his expression and he slowly sat on the edge of the bed.
Sirens flared in Janine's brain. "What."
"You're going to have to push hard, Janine."
Janine slightly nodded as she lowered her gaze to the nails of her left hand. "Yeah. I know. You, too." She released a quick breath and looked up to meet his gaze. "Like I said, people like us don't do this. That's why I want to."
Seifer's gaze held hers for a long moment before lowering to her hip. He stared at it for ages before almost hesitantly reaching out and pulling the blankets down. Janine focused on the burn as he eased that portion of her pajama shorts down, lightly stroking the scarring with his thumb. The stroke tightened her throat and sent a spark that made her hands clench. But she knew it was all in her mind. The doctors told her the nerves were burned beyond healing.
Janine briefly pressed her lips together. First opportunity. First risk before the thrill. She cleared her throat. "Missile blast. Moved too damn slow." She cleared her throat again. Seifer continued to stare down at the burn. "Finalized my deafness, blasting any chance of healing clear to hell."
'Beyond healing'. Doctors said that to her a lot.
She lowered her hand to cover his. Seifer's hand remained, his thumb continuing its steady stroke. Janine sighed deep. "Oh well. Makes life interesting. Although the weeks of surgery were boring as hell. Flat on my back with skin grafts and nerve therapy and who the hell knows what else. Damned lucky didn't blast my hip apart." Her hand tightened on his before she could stop it.
Seifer looked up. "Fellow SeeD caught the majority of the blast?" he asked carefully.
Janine's throat tightened. She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms, again trying to clear the tightness from her throat as she stared down at her knees. "Yeah. Jennifer. Friend since junior classmen." She felt her voice break, but only adjusted her crossed arms and cleared her throat of the tears as she continued to stare at her knees. She didn't talk about it. Hadn't since they'd buried her. Wouldn't have done any good. Wouldn't have brought her back, or shoved the Galbadian missiles down the person's ass who fired them.
And now the rage and regret and guilt burned as hot as before.
"She was a nice kid," Janine forced out, voice tight. "A lot like Sally." She blinked several times. "Saw the missiles coming."
He pulled his hand slowly from the burn, drawing Janine's gaze. "And threw you out of the main blast radius," Seifer finished. He slightly nodded. "It's what SeeDs do," he said as he eased himself closer.
Janine swallowed hard. "Damn fool thing to do," she whispered. Damn awesome to talk about. Finally. She lifted her gaze to his as he pressed his fist into the bed on the other side of her; his body hovering over hers like a shield. "Damn fool thing."
"You know you would have done it first if you could."
Janine could see a difference in the hard stare. A near gentleness. Again, it felt damned good. A rush at the confession and a thrill at the acceptance and attempted soothing. Who the hell had she ever told? Who knew besides those at Trabia who saw it happen?
Janine blinked rapidly as she tilted her head back against her headboard, staring at the ceiling. "Hell yes," she whispered. "She deserved her life."
Seifer nudged her side with his arm, drawing her gaze yet again. "And she deserved her death," he said. "Giving her life for a friend. Any one of us--"
"I know." Janine closed her eyes and covered them with a hand. She released a deep breath. "I know, Seifer."
He pulled her hand down, and her eyes met his. "So you wish your ass had been in her place, any one of us would. Now you've got to let it go. It's done. She's a hero and you've got your life to dedicate to your duty. Her life and death gets meaning each day you do it."
Janine looked away and gave a slight nod. Then she released a long and deep breath, feeling as if she floated. Her lips tilted slightly upward. "Do you have any idea how damn good it felt to tell you that?" She rolled her head slightly to the right to meet his gaze. "I haven't told anyone anything about that day. Didn't want them shoveling pity at me like some--Hell. I don't know. I buried her, and that's where I buried everything I felt about it." Janine reached up with one hand to lightly scratch and scrub at his hair and scalp. "Thanks."
Seifer smirked and brought his watch up. He frowned. "I'm late."
Janine grabbed him by the shirt front when he made a move to stand. "You owe me a story, Seifer," she reminded.
He pulled her hands from his shirt. "I know, Janine. Push it later."
"Damn right I'll push it later." Janine pulled her hands from his and smoothed them down the front of his shirt, her left hand pausing on that area with the bandage. "I actually feel bad about this." She looked up and met his gaze. "I never feel bad about anything, but I regret that slash. I actually want to apologize for it."
Seifer scoffed and pushed her hands from his chest. "Don't. Had worse."
"I know that." Janine actually squirmed. "Hell. Feels damned uncomfortable."
Seifer suddenly chuckled as he shook his head. "Don't get soft, Larabie." He leaned down to place a firm kiss on her mouth. "Don't get soft," he said gruffly.
Janine smirked. "Why the hell not? You might like it."
Seifer sounded another slight scoff and then straightened. He pointed at her. "Keep your ass in bed."
Janine saluted. "Yes, sir."
He exited her room. Janine leaned back into the pillows and then covered her face with her hands. She didn't know what the hell she was thinking, opening herself up to a man like Seifer who took people's secrets and used them to guarantee the safety of every SeeD in Garden. She took in and released another deep breath. Damn. The thrill of the risk had her right where she knew it would; waiting to see what he would do. Waiting to see if she would survive the vulnerability.
Janine lowered her hands from her face and stared at the ceiling. "Damned if you weren't right, Sal gal. Shit."
~*~
Seifer stared down into his coffee mug with an absent scowl, feet propped up onto his desk. The hustle within the security office of the changing shifts was easily ignored as his mind blankly examined the black liquid that had long since cooled. He saw brown eyes filled with fear at a confessio
n.
Seifer's glare deepened as he absently tapped his thumb against the desktop, palm flat. Hell. He set aside his coffee mug and let his head fall back to stare at the ceiling, his thumb yet again tapping an absent rhythm on his desktop. Damn it. Seifer sat up and scrubbed at his scalp. The rush had him. The thrill. The risk. The mystery at what would come next. What secret to be revealed. But there hid a terror in the corner of his mind. He had revealed one secret. One confession that would have humiliated him in front of those who saw him as the man with no fear. And she hadn't laughed in his face. She smiled and purred 'I'm still afraid of the dark. Wanna stay?'
Seifer scrubbed roughly at his scalp with both hands before running them down his face as he released a deep breath. He owed her a personal story. A damn personal story! Seifer Almasy didn't tell stories. He didn't have stories. He didn't want to have stories. There was duty. There was Garden. That was his story.
'I haven't told anyone anything about that day.' Seifer fisted his hands as he lowered them from his head. 'Didn't want them shoveling pity.' He lifted his head and glared at his closed office door. 'Thanks.' Thanks. Thanks? I told her to pull her head out of her ass and she says 'Thanks'? He scoffed and sat back, kicking his feet back up onto his desk. 'Do you have any idea how good it felt to tell you that?' He had no idea. He had no stories. He wouldn't have stories.
...'scared of the dark...'
The thrill and the rush punched him in the gut, causing him a flinch. Seifer fisted his hands and crossed his arms as he glared at his shoes. Push it later.
'Damn right I'll push it later.'
Seifer moved his glare to his still-closed office door. Push it.
'Damn right.'
His knuckles popped. Seifer twitched and then forced his hands to open. He shook them out and then re-crossed his arms. You're going to have to push hard.
'Yeah. I know.'
He tightened his jaw until it ached. "Shit," he muttered as he sat up. He pulled a stack of transcripts and reports close. But the story still waited to be told. . .and it refused to wait much further into the evening than just after dinner.
Seifer continued to clench and unclench his jaw as he straightened the reports on his desk, filed certain ones into the appropriate inboxes on his desk, and then took up his keys from his desk's center drawer. He slowly exited his office, locking the door with deliberate motions as the demand of the story weighed down his brows.
Reluctant Knight, The Page 8
