New Lullaby Girls

The place was packed full to its capacity with tons of people letting loose- girls who wanna have fun, office people worn-out from getting kicked around by their superiors and lumberjacks exhausted from their monotonous lives. They had filled the entire space of the disco-bar. The music blared on as the sea of bodies gyrated quickly to the strong infectious beat of some new age disco song, lapping against the edges of their limited dancing space

And this was just seeing it from the outside entrance of the club. Getting in was probably easy but getting out would be the difficult part, like a salmon swimming against the current. As it was people were crammed together with their leather-clad get-up and shimmering sequined boob tubes practically pressing onto some other person. And if that was not enough, the place had started overflowing with people at the bars who thought it amusing to spray beer at the dancers. No one even responded, everyone was too occupied in doing their own thing and some went as far as to gulp down the beer being aimed at them. The place was wild and it had a sort of feral tinge to it.

“Holy damn almighty.” Selphie Tilmitt said, which was probably the closest to her using any sort of profanities. Suddenly, taking up the mission Drake had given her seemed like a very bad move. I am so going to regret this.

Irvine Kinneas who was beside her was busy ogling in awe at a group of girls near the line. Well, it was much better than having him gape at her and her `mission attire'. Which was more cleavage than cloth, to her that was. But looking at the clubbers at Glitter Tech, it certainly made her feel as if she were dressed up like a nun.

“Well, You ready to boogie?” Irvine smirked at her. He had tried to warn her about the mission requirements but she had been too busy being angry with him to actually pick up on that. At least he looks like he's having fun. Selphie sulked, but managed to answer with an innocent smile and a `nice' nudge to Irvine's ribs, leaving him to fall back a few people behind her. The line at the entrance was starting to move and much to her chagrin her turn was coming up. Irvine was a distance behind her, trying to act inconspicuous as he tried to pick up chicks. Why did Drake pick Irvine to be back up? Rolling her eyes, Selphie miserably followed the line closer and closer to the front. We are on a mission not attending some pseudo orgy… She silently thought.

The bulky man at the front, the bouncer, was selecting people `cool' enough to enter. Smoothing her sleek, straight highlighted tan-brown hair she waited for him to see her. Oh god, I haven't been this anxious since the final fight with Ultimecia. Checking her black leather boots for potential dirt- it was a nervous habit she picked up earlier on, she casually eyed Irvine. He was talking to a blond. Flirting as usual.

“Hey Miss.” The bouncer hollered over the ever-rising din. Looking back at the man she realized he had given her the A-ok to go in. Smiling her thanks she entered the packed club and was immediately surrounded by moving bodies plastered with the smell of sweat and beer. Wow, that sure was easy. Looking back she found Irvine and the blond walking in. The girl was laughing at something he said. He was looking around the club and suddenly she found herself staring into his misty blue eyes. Quickly she turned back and began to scan the crowded dome-like room. Don't want to cramp his style. She thought sarcastically. Ok…focus on the mission. Selphie warned herself and began registering what she was supposed to do.

Yep, easy, no one in this club seems to be suspicious. They are all perfectly normal people dressed for a day at church. Someone has to do something about that darned mission report. Selphie found herself lost in the coiling mass of never-ending dancers. The only suspicious one here seems to be me. She was standing stiffly at the middle of the dance floor, looking at all the dancers strutting their stuff and doing all those NC-17 dance moves. How am I supposed to do my job in a sty like this??? The only way I could see anything is if I were on the platform. That would mean I'd have to be working as a Dancer here. Out of the question.

“So like I was saying, how can I possibly know that his name was Jared? I mean not everyone looks at people's name tags right?” Chrissie said in her very lame attempt at getting Irvine to listen to her. God, can't she just shut up? Irvine thought exasperatedly as the blond jabbered on in that gratingly high-pitched tone. She had taken to touching his arm in a not so subtle way in the name of flirting.

He was scanning the room searching for something when he stopped. Staring at the girl a few heads in front of him, the girl with her flowing hair of brown highlights. Her face betrayed the clubber image she seemed to want to portray and yet nothing stopped her from looking enticingly stunning… Selphie could have been an angel if she had not also looked like such a foxy devil. Her eyes were cat-like green, striking and yet innocent. The neon blue strobe lights accentuated her glimmering eye shadow and made her straight hair glimmer. His fascination lingered on her high cheekbones and aristocratic nose before resting on her sultry lips with their lightly tinged silver lip-gloss. Selphie sure grew up to be a siren. The techno music and gyrating dancers ceased to exist as he stared at her. Everything seemed to disappear.

The first time he saw her in that outfit, he nearly had a cardiac arrest. Irvine knew Selphie was beautiful, but seeing her with her metallic blue handkerchief top and sleek black leather pants, it blew him away, he couldn't stop staring at her the whole night. He tried staring at the other girls, but no one could compare. It was ironic how she was dressed like the devil herself and yet managed to maintain her angelic innocence.

He was still staring at her when his conscience began ringing in his head. He pictured the danger alarms buzzing around. Irvine, knock it out. She said she wanted to be friends nothing more. Regaining his composure, he tuned back to Chrissie, occasionally staring at the girl with the angelic face… “And I was like so confused, he said his name was Jared….”

The streetlamps were dimly lit as the girl walked down the secluded path, the loud music fading as she went further away from the club. The faint rustle of the trees caused her to pause. She heard a sound. Just the wind… She reasoned turning around to scan the area before walking again. In between dancing and humming a tune from Aretha Franklins, she did not notice the shadow sweep behind her before blending in with the darkness again.

“I will survive…” This time, she heard that clicking sound again. She stopped her public parading, and began to take out the pepper spray from her glitter bag. Swiftly she turned around to face… whatever it was.

The cleaver was brought down onto her chest the minute she turned. Red exploded in front of her eyes as she felt her lungs burn causing her breath to bubble in her throat. The excruciating pain was too much to bear. The cleaver was brought up then down again as it re-entered her body, hacking her flesh, mutating it into a deformed pile of lump where it was once beautiful white porcelain skin. Her chest felt like hot black coal had been ignited in her collapsed lungs, using it as a cauldron for its fiery hell. Instantaneously, her vision began to get blurred. The only thing she saw was the glimmer from the fatal weapon… and the black trench coat sweeping over her.

“Ooops, sorry.” Selphie mumbled agitatedly as she bumped into her five hundred and fortieth person. All the while desperately trying to search for unusual characters.

“No biggie.” The man she bumped into said, flashing her a grin, a very nice fine grin. “Wanna get a beer?” The man asked her. Nodding her head, they began to move towards the bar.

Selphie, where are you. Irvine Kinneas thought, drowning out “Chrissie” as she went on talking about how tired she was and how she very much wanted to go back to her room but needed help up.

There she is. Standing in the middle of the dance floor looking absolutely lost. He felt a pang as she smiled at something the person she bumped into had said to her. She nodded at him and they began to head for the bar.

Gosh, what is Selphie doing? She should be concentrating on the mission, not flirting. Irvine flared up. The man had taken to touching her… That's it. I have to get her. Raising his hand to stop Chrissie from talking he walked towards his target leaving the blond to sputter angrily.

The man is trouble, for all I know he could have a weapon. He might hurt Selphie…In fact I'm sure he's going to hurt Selphie. Irvine was a few meters away from them but he could only briefly make out what they were saying.

“Well good. Cause I am so gonna beat the crap out of you!” The man had closed the gap between himself and Irvine, raising his fist. Irvine stood his ground wearing a poker face all the while...reactions he learnt from Garden, being the combat artist he was.

“Wait!!!” Selphie interjected. Irvine was a gun specialist but ever since the second Sorceress War he was also a knife and combat veteran. Not a good combo for anyone who pissed him off.

Shifting to his side, Irvine easily managed to avoid the shot. The man tried again and missed. In one fleetingly agile motion, Irvine's fist was in the man's gut as he used his other fist to pummel the man's ribs. Falling back, the man coughed and backed up against the other dancers.

“Are you crazy?” It was at this point that Selphie's legs managed to respond, taking her across the room to check the fallen man for any sign of injuries. Then she stood in between both of the men.

“What are you doing?” She shrieked at Irvine as one of the bouncers began to take Irvine away. She looked angrily at him one last time before turning away to see if Mike needed help.

“Yeah, god this is embarrassing. You sure you don't know him? Cause he seemed pretty pissed” He asked her in between his coughing fit. Selphie nodded her head and helped him up. They stood awkwardly before Mike made the decision to leave while he still had at least a morsel of his manly pride left.

Everyone had gone back to dancing after realizing with disappointment that the fight was over. Seeing that she would not get any work done on this failed pathetic attempt on a mission, Selphie left the club.

“What the hell was that about?” Irvine asked as he met her outside the club, walking closer to Selphie. The streets were pretty quiet and most of the dancers were still boogieing the house down.

“I could ask you the same thing! What were you trying to do? Blow our cover? You nearly killed the man!” Selphie retorted. How dare he ask me that, he was the one who had gotten into a bar brawl!

“Whether I was interested in going to bed with him.” Selphie said, deadpan, silently fuming. Irvine seemed to believe her. His face was seven shades of red…and it was not from embarrassment.

“What? He asked you `that'? I swear I will kick his ass so high, he'd fly!” Irvine roared, trying to go back to the club to find `Mike'. Selphie choked back a giggle. Irvine was such a cutie. He'd do that for me? For just a friend… Guess I can't stay mad at him forever.

“Oh.” Irvine paused and Selphie did not bother filling in the silence, choosing instead, to savor his awkwardness. God. The mission…I hope Drake's in a good mood tonight. A very good mood.

Howard Drake was a very condescending man with a fetish for power. He loved it; he also loved his power games. Unfortunately, for him, he was just a substitute for Headmaster Cid as Cid was taking a vacation in the Trabian region.

“Miss Tilmitt. Kinneas.” Drake called as he sat back in his, or Cid's, chair. He waited for the two SeeDs to give him the 411 on the current situation. Both looked stumped.

“Well? What have you got?” He looked at them with his intense gray eyes, which made Selphie shudder inwardly. He waited before inwardly smirking. Trust them to screw up.

“We were unable to get any information. Yet.” Irvine spoke up, impertinently. Damn that boy. If I weren't just a substitute, I would kick his ass back to Galbadia. Ignoring Irvine's manner he looked towards Selphie. Expecting a somewhat more valuable report from her at least. No chance.

“Miss Tilmitt must I remind you that this is a very important mission. Innocent young women are being slaughtered on the streets. And all you can say is…the place was very crowded?”

“Yes, I see your point. Since that is the case, then you will need to frequent there more often, very VERY often. My suggestion would be that you, Miss Tilmitt, would see that you get yourself a job there.”

Selphie did not like where that was going. “But the only job available there would be…” Selphie let the sentence die without a proper end before continuing. “Sir you don't expect me to be a, a dancer! That is not in my SeeD credentials!” She looked toward Irvine, but all he did was shrug.

“Well, if other young girls can, I don't see why a “SeeD” member can't. After all, aren't SeeDs supposed to be talented in everything…? Dismissed.” His tone silenced them and Drake leaned back in his chair and began to watch them file out of the office, not giving them a chance to defend their sad selves. A small smile appeared on his thin lips as he savored the power he got from dissing them.

“Good morning my fellow comrades.” Zell cheerfully greeted his two other friends as they took their seats at their usual table. He noted Irvine and Selphie's tired faces and took Selphie's rare frown into account. This could only mean one thing. Drake the drag had struck again.

Selphie looked down at her cold soggy cereal before turning back towards them. Mornings were supposed to be fun and sunny but today was an exception. Everything felt sour and gloomy to her.

“What did he do? What did he do???? I'll tell you what he did! That jerk wants me to cage dance in a freaky bar is what he did!!! In front of every one of those slobbering maniacs.” Selphie was out of her chair, speaking in a relatively loud voice, attracting unwanted attention.

The cafeteria was silent, except for the faint whir of the hotdog machine spinning. Everyone else, who had lacked a simple term called life in their little world, was looking at the obvious commotion in wonderment. Slowly, Selphie turned to face Headmaster Drake, her face a nice scarlet hue. Too late for pleasantries.

Without waiting for any kind of response from the young SeeD cadet, Drake continued. “Well Miss Tilmitt,” His thick accent was getting heavier- not a good sign since he only did that when he was getting ready for his most acidic remarks- “I just wanted to remind you to get yourself a nice little sequined outfit… you don't want to have another failed mission to add to your ever accumulating list do we?” With that he sauntered off.

Selphie remained where she was; not knowing whether to laugh or cry. To laugh in gratitude because Drake did not do or say anything too nasty or to cry since he didn't need to do anything nasty. Letting her follow through with the mission was already punishment enough…

The soft peculiar humming from the room lingered on as the man slipped on his elastic gloves. Using the scalpel from the metallic stand by his right, he moved toward the motionless body. The dismembered face of Carly Johnson stared back at him with its motionless eyes; eyes that had dilated and rolled behind their lids as he brought down the cleaver into her flesh. He smiled fondly as he remembered the power and thrill he got from her. Her screams had roused him into an exhilarating high, which made him feel heady with morbid pleasure. All his girls had. Still smiling, he stood beside the cadaver of mutilated flesh and began scraping away the coating of skin that covered the body, lightly shaving off the epidermis carefully, not wanting any wrong movements that would cause the veins to be spewed with blood.

In the background of the greenish illuminated room, the faint outline of the man's back overshadowed his hands, covering them; while they performed their sordid surgery, with the faint tune of Bach overpowering the sick sound of a metallic blade slicing open cold lifeless flesh…

The news reports on the “club murders” had escalated to an all-new level, leading to a degree of hysteria that was starting to scare even the toughest cops on the streets. Ever since the few gang clashes and fights, nothing this ghoulish had ever hit the city.

Now though, they had Mr. Hannibal Lector Wannabe roaming the boardwalks. The neighborhood was nowhere safe. Lord, even curfews were being drawn up and extra security was being called in.

Counting last night's casualty, a total of seven girls had already fallen prey to “the henchman” or so the media had called him for his symbolic character traits and trademarked tidbits. A severed chunk of flesh here… a dismembered limb there… not to mention the little smart assed quotes he would copy in blood on some dumb little paper plastered to the little “tidbits” he left behind…tidbits…but never the whole body, never the works. Just a slight tease before the real movie got aired.

Boy do I want to watch the movie…Selphie added without humor. Eyeing Irvine trying to get a glimpse of something in the background of the live footage, Selphie chided him.

“Get serious Irvy! This is really bad!!! I am starting to get the chills, this guy, The Henchman, has serious issues.” Selphie sat next to him on the couch, worry lines etched into her youthful forehead. The newscaster in front of the camera was reporting the news of the newest butchery. They identified her as a Miss Carly Johnson. At least the thumb, “the Henchman “ had left for the police, told them as much.

“I am reporting live, about fifty meters away from yet another club where the lacerated thumb of a Miss Carly Johnson has been found. Though no new information on this series of murders has been given out to the public, it is safe to say that Carly won't be the last of “the Henchman's” victims, for more, catch the ten o'clock news, I am Tara Cutcher…” The screen faded off into the busy background of Balamb's dock, showing the newscaster trying to get more information from the constable.

“You know, sometimes the news can be so visually impaired. I mean, how hard can it be to show us a picture of this mysterious finger?” Irvine quipped, still squinting at the screen, then became silent as he saw the look on Selphie's face.

“Why do I even bother Irvine? Obviously, a decent conversation with you would be in the `impossible possibilities list'! I am going. Got to get to Glitter Tech, my walk in interview starts in an hour.” Without so much as a glance at Irvine, Selphie left the room with the report in hand.

The shores at the edge of the unknown island fall prey to the violent winds and equally violent tides. The water laps furiously along the isle, taking with it abandoned slippers, old tin cans and a bloody finger.

Has the Henchman struck again? Has he claimed yet another victim? As of now, we do not know. What we do know is that what lies beneath the cold depths of the sea is his garden. Of flesh.

As the forensics and other officials stay near the docks of Balamb city, checking out the area for incriminating evidence and clues, another site is being hidden. Away from the curious eyes of the media and police. Further down, much further then anyone would think to go, the Henchman has made his temple.

There, underneath it all lie the bodies of Carly Johnson and her predecessors. All seventeen of them. The small microorganisms that dwell in the sea have long since eaten the remnants of what they could find. No morals are pondered, for fishes do what fishes do. Swim and survive. Survival means eating.

As we look closer at the bodies of the girls, or what is left of them, we can see the way a scalpel had been run precisely around the orbit of the eye. Were it not for our knowledge of the Henchman, we would have thought nothing of this. Thought nothing of its missing two important organs…but whatever he does has a purpose. Though we cannot stay in the murky depths of the sea to ponder it.

Oh Crap. I can't do this. Not with all my friends here! Selphie Tilmitt, who was currently working undercover, fretted. She stared at her less than modest attire. Candy, her work buddy, had picked it out for her. It was, to say the least, some sort of hanky that managed to scarcely cover her upper body. And let's not even talk about her skirt.

“Sel, hey. Don't worry about it. You'll be fine. I got the jitters too you know? Don't look so surprised. I was pretty decent before I came here… though I can see why you'd think otherwise. This get up does present a less than innocent image doesn't it?” Candy said, smiling in sympathy. Candy who was currently morbidly dressed in a bikini sort of out fit with gigantic big feathers sticking out the back of her …attire.

Before she could say anything to her work buddy, Candy, it was time to shine. Taking a deep breath, Selphie took a step to what she thought of as the plank towards a sea of crocs.

Irvine barely looked at her as he stared at the TV screen. He hadn't gotten up from the couch since she had left for the interview...probably too busy watching the tele to care about anything else. Hyne knows he does it every other day of the week. When he doesn't have missions or training of course. Still…

“Hey Sef, how was the interview? There were more reports about the Henchman being made, but nothing we haven't heard before.” Irvine informed her, as if they had not had a tiff earlier in the day.

Selphie nodded at the comment. “ I got the job. Big yay. I start tonight by the way. Seems like they are in need of more girls. Seeing as how the ones they had are dead or too afraid of coming back to the club. Candy, the girl helping the beginners get acquainted with the club told me so. Oh and she also told me of my new make over and wardrobe change.”

Zell Dincht, owner of one fourth of the Loft - the city apartment he, Selphie, Irvine and Quistis shared, was the first to arrive at the gang's usual eating-place. Excluding Selphie and Irvine who were already there. From an onlooker's view, it might seem like they were on a date. But Zell, knowing them since they were toddlers knew better. If you ignored how very close they were sitting to each other and how Irvine whispered into Selphie's ear as a lover (and not a friend) would, they would appear to be two platonic friends having an innocent meal together.

His friends looked at each other, silently communicating in a way only close friends could. He saw Selphie frown a little, before he heard Irvine say, “Zell, we are going dancing at Glitter-Tech. If you want to, you can tag along.”

“Ok Zell, you can stop trying to look so amused. We're just going there to check out the area. You know for leads.” Selphie drawled in her slight Trabian accent. Earning her a chuckle from Irvine, which she promptly chose to return with a light smack on his forearm.

“Little Seffie is going to be Glitter-Tech's new heat dancer.” If Zell's eyes could have popped out they would have. What in the name of the devil is going on? But then, he remembered the mission from last night. The same mission that had Selphie so mad. It had to be about that. Still, it would be cool to see her so… what would you call it?

Snapping out of his line of thought, the same line that would have made Christine gut him like a fish, Zell simply provided a meek yes. Zell Dincht was going to Glitter-Tech tonight.

“I said what exactly are you and Selphie? Friends, Jedi, chocobo, lovers perhaps?” Zell turned expectantly to Irvine, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but next to Zell. And his curious questioning nature.

What exactly were they? Besides the obvious answer being friends. Somehow, it felt like a lie to say that. If Irvine was honest with himself, he wanted more than that. Wanted to be more than just friends Zell deserved better than the obvious answer, but now was not the time for a step-by-step dissection of his and Selphie's relationship. Or lack there of. So the obvious answer it had to be…

“Zell, that sentence had way too many likes for my liking. And unless you are her father, I seriously doubt that it's any of your business.” Irvine interjected, already starting to walk away from his overly curious friend.

Before either of them could say or do anything else, the atmosphere dimmed. The music was cut off and the usual chatter pattered off into silence. The crowd, most of them uncertain of what was about to happen, was confused. For the usual clubbers, they waited in anticipation as the leveled ground of the dance floor got separated into the two sections. The platforms at the ends were elevated till they were ten feet high.

After a few seconds, the platform burst into flames at its side. A few surprised murmurs from the crowd could be heard, but were quickly drowned by the cheers that had erupted just as suddenly as the miniature explosion.

From the dark arched hallways that were connected from the upper level to the now elevated platform, Glitter-Tech's heat dancers appeared, basking in the spectacular light display- the strobe lights were sweeping across the hall like there was no tomorrow.

Everyone stared; transfixed at the already cavorting bodies of the dancers until suddenly a new, fast dance track came on. The beat caught at their feet as the dancers challenged them, and in the blink of an eye the whole floor was moving to the music.

“Already doing that. Boy, who knew huh?” Zell said, nodding his head towards the subject of his statement. “ I so did not know Selphie to be this… wild.” There was Selphie Tilmitt, the orphanage gang's most childlike member, doing a sensual twirl around the metal bar that made up part of the “disco-decor”.

Irvine grimaced as he looked at Selphie, his innocent Selphie in her costume romping about in a compromising way…with her hair twirling and sweat trickling down her gleaming skin…

Up on the platform, Selphie was doing no better in controlling her emotions than Irvine. Learning from Candy that afternoon about how to do her job and how to do it well was fine… but applying it up on the platform was not what she called fine. It was degrading and shameful.

From her viewpoint, she could see Irvine walking to the bar after leaving a grinning Zell Dintch in his wake. He did not seem to notice Selphie as he tried to stare at anything that was not Zell. Or her. Indeed! Did she really dance that badly?!

He had a vodka cola and was being molested by the girl in front of him. But he did not seem to be noticing. Instead he had leaned forward, bringing himself closer to the girl. He seemed to be having a wonderful time.

“Chrissie,” Irvine Kinneas said to the girl serving him his order, all the while still trying to forget the foreplay Selphie was doing up on the platform, “what are you doing here? I never figured you for a bartender.”

“Well, what else am I to do? Besides, it does have its perks. I get to talk to good-looking fellas,” she said, placing her hand on his, “like yourself.” Used to the attention Irvine simply laughed.

“Nah, too many people coming to notice. But, if you must know, there are some new guys coming in here…folks from the Sorceress convention,” Chrissie told him, smiling saucily.

Seifer Almasy never figured himself for a clubber. Preferring a small suburban pub to the large discothèque. But he had a job to do, and one he would certainly do well in.

From above the platform, he could see a familiar petite figure twirling about the rails. He smiled as he realized how much fun it would be to tease the messenger girl the next time he saw her. And he hoped it would be soon. If everything went as planned tonight he would probably see more of her soon.

Stupid Irvine. Did he have to be such a flirt! Selphie fumed from where she was dancing. And no, she was not jealous... Merely angry at his flippant work attitude. Let's hope talking to the girl at the bar had some use!

She was about to do a back flip twirl when she spotted a familiar someone. What was he doing here? She eyed the man in his gray trench coat for longer than she liked before realizing he was heading for the back alley. The same route one of the girls was taking. Recalling why she was actually at the club in the first place, Selphie decided to leave the joint. Earning her a curious stare from Candy.

Taking a short cut from behind the arched hallways into the alley, Selphie was able to see two distinct silhouettes. He was unmistakable, the arrogant flare of his trench coat swirling about his knees as he moved in on the slightly hunched form of the woman before him.

Hiding her initial surprise at finding him back in Balamb, she continued fiercely, “Seifer, unhand that girl right now,” she hissed, “or you'll find yourself a few fingers short of a whole hand!” She tried glaring at him for a more effective intimidation effect but Seifer being … Seifer, merely laughed at what he assumed was a non-threat.

Condescension thy name is Seifer. He looked no different than he had those six months ago when the final fight was over and the world was able to let out its collective breath.

Seifer merely shrugged. “Makes no difference who solves it, as long as the murders stop. Besides I don't think the team handling it is all that effective. And the operative word is team meaning, you and that Billy the Kid version two-point-oh of yours. Speaking of which, you can tell him to come out from behind that corner.”

Selphie turned and sure enough, Irvine was right behind her, already reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. More confident now, she faced the annoying man again. For as certain as she had been that she could disable Seifer and his grasping fingers, it wouldn't be just Seifer who would get hurt in a fight. She'd probably get a beating too…

“Somehow Seifer, I doubt your reasons are purely altruistic. And we are too effective!” She completed that with the stomping of her right foot. Maybe she shouldn't have stomped her foot on that last line, she thought, as she heard the hint of Seifer's snicker.

Before Selphie could come up with a response, Irvine, who had managed to restrain his tongue all this while, finally stepped in. “Seifer, whether or not your reasons are altruistic or not, let go of her.” Irvine jerked his head to the squirming girl.

“Count yourself lucky you aren't on the ground with your face kissing asphalt. Now let's go back to the bar and we can chat about what you have been up to. Alright?” Irvine said before Selphie could respond. He could tell that her nerves were fraying and he didn't want her to lose her temper.

To say he was surprised was an understatement. Seifer was very rarely surprised, but this was one of those rare times when he was absolutely flabbergasted. It might not have been such a shock if he had paid more attention to that short yellow get-up she had on. But this was Selphie, the same one who giggled like a schoolgirl and loved furry animals, up on the elevated platform. Working as a dancer.

Seifer shrugged, already seeing how the man might have thought so. Upon closer `inspection' he guessed physically speaking Selphie was a good candidate. Who knew Selphie could bust those moves.

Irvine, eyeing the blonde beside him, did not appreciate him blatantly staring at his friend. "She's still Selphie," he warned. "She doesn't appreciate friends looking her over like she's today's hot special."

Like you've been? He almost said, but decided that he rather liked his face the way it was. The floor was sticky under his boots and he had no desire to find out first hand whether it was spilled beer or something else that was making it so. That being the case, he chose to go with his second, safer impulse. “Well, good thing I'm not a friend then, hmm?”

Rolling his eyes, Irvine swirled around in his seat, turning back to his drink. “Look, that was the choice you made when you chose to `fulfill your dreams'. Now, can we discuss what we came for?”

Seifer nodded his assent. “You would probably want to know how I got involved in this huh?” Seifer made a sweeping gesture with his hand, “After the war, I was left without much of an option except to travel. And I did, saw the world experienced so much… even caught myself a blue tipped chocobo you know?”

“Fine. Long story short, I was passing the site where Odin was last seen, and before I know it, I was at the orphanage where I grew up and Cid was there. He told me more about what everyone knew. The murders at Balamb and asked if I could scout around for some info.”

Irvine was surprised at Seifer's lack of biting remarks and the fact that he chose not to argue every inch of the way…well, it was surprising to say the least. Irvine looked up at his once childhood friend and saw the tell tale signs of hard learned lessons and maturity. Irvine could almost believe this was once his best friend at the orphanage. The one he did boy things with when Selphie was not around. Did he remember?

“Hey Kinneas! Snap out of it! Don't want you to get cross-eyed from doing too much thinking. You never were the sharpest tool in the shed.” Seifer snapped his fingers in front of Irvine, and just like that, the possibilities of Seifer remembering and memories of the orphanage disintegrated.

“You don't. You've got only my word. I' m not going to beg to get into your good graces Kinneas, but you have my word.” Seifer held his breath, knowing this was make or break, his second chance at getting back into the fold rested in Irvine's hands. And as much as he wanted to return to the Garden, he would not do so if no one thought he should, if no one wanted him there. Regret at his rash decisions and foolhardy ways washed over him. He paid a price for it, and he hoped it was enough.

“Alright. I believe you, but one false move…” Irvine warned. Seifer nodded, feeling tremendous relief at Irvine's acceptance of him. He chose to ignore why it was so important to him. To have the acceptance of people he once was willing to kill, if it meant fulfilling a pipe dream…

It took Seifer a moment to think about it before remembering. “Oh her? No one really important.” At Irvine's pointed look, Seifer sighed. “Ok, maybe she was, but we'll get her later. Apparently, she saw the Henchman in person. Knife and all. Was going to find out if she got the 411 on him or not. But thanks to you and little miss Camp Trooper, I missed my chance.”

“How did you find out about her? Selphie's been here asking around, and she would have picked up on information like that. Especially if the girl works here.” Irvine frowned as he absorbed all of it.

“She might have. If the girl actually did work here. I happened to be at a cafe. It's near the local college, and I had a very interesting chat with one of the sophomores, Rene. Now apparently, Rene's roommate works evenings at the college library, and a little while ago she came home all clammy and uptight. Wouldn't say much, except that she saw something that she shouldn't have - and Rene thinks she heard her mumble something about a 'weird knife'." Seifer paused for emphasis. "Rene also says that the route home takes her directly past GlitterT.”

From her place on the dance platform above them, Selphie stared fiercely down at the two men. She could see them talking. She just wished she could hear what they were saying. A repeat performance ala bar brawl like the one Irvine gave on their first day at Glitter Tech was not exactly favourable.

She narrowed her eyes as she caught Seifer staring at her for longer than necessary before Irvine brought him back into the conversation. As contemptuous as Seifer was of her abilities, he probably thought her inadequate for the job.

I'll show him! she thought angrily. Even though she knew at the back of her mind that her reaction was rather childish, she couldn't stop herself from rising to his bait, however out of character it might be. Seifer just seemed to have that effect on her.

With a final vicious glare at his disdainful figure, she threw herself into a brilliant swirl and twirl, sequins and glitter and bare flesh flashing under the strobe lights as she finished with a full-body gyrate that should have his eyes popping out of his head.

All her attention was focused on Seifer, on proving that she was someone to be taken seriously, that she was more than 'just the little messenger girl', as he so dismissively put it.

She let out a small squeak as she felt her lungs being incapacitated and tried to get the attention of the two below, but they were apparently locked in some intense conversation. A hand covered her face, and with dread she recognised the burning sensation on the sensitive tissues of mouth and nose, the sickening sweet stench of the chemical soaked into the pad of gauze - Chloroform! Her eyes were stinging, her head swimming, she could feel her struggles weakening, but her desperate gaze was fixed on one person. Irvine!

Irvine and Seifer had found themselves partaking in an unexpectedly civilised conversation over their drinks, and it wasn't until they finished their second round of Bourbons, Mimetts and Krakkas that Irvine abruptly noticed that Glitter Tech was a dancer short. Selphie wasn't there.

Frantically scanning the elevated platform, he realised that she was nowhere to be seen. He stood up, Seifer forgotten, as he desperately tried to get a bead on his missing partner.

“Maybe she went to get a drink," Seifer offered as he fell into step with Irvine, his strides quickening to match the other man's long and hurried ones. Despite his words, he knew something was off. It was in the way the air felt so heavy now, like it was closing in on the reality that all was not ok. Seifer tried to ignore the chill that ran up his spine as he eyed his present company.

“She would have had someone else take over. She does that all the time. This, this is different. I can feel it.” What he did not express was that she was in trouble. Selphie was in deep shit and it was his fault. Irvine shook the thought away, trying to focus on what would be useful to Selphie.

“Irvine! I think I see her. They're getting away,” Seifer called, pointing to the swimming mass of gyrating bodies. From his vantage point, Irvine saw all too clearly the limp form of Selphie Tilmitt being carried off by a dark hooded figure.

“Selphie!” Irvine shouted, his voice relaying the urgency he felt. He called out again, hoping they would somehow stop. Hoping the man, the monster, would somehow stop, would hesitate.

The hood created a sinister shadow on the phantom face of the one whose hands had already stolen seven lives, but neither shadow nor mask could disguise the eerie grin caught amidst the flickering techno lights. It was as if the killer had intentionally created the illusion for Irvine's benefit. With the sole purpose of making it known to Irvine that tonight, the numbers might just increase by one more little girl…