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The Gift of Love ***Author’s Note: I was hit by a burst to holiday spirit this weekend and this story is the product. This story is in NO WAY related to my other one, The Guardian. Just remember that as you read. Other than that, enjoy ^_^ ***

"Ooh!" Selphie Tilmitt squealed, pointing excitedly at a small furry teddy bear in a Deling City store window. "It’s so cute! Quisty, don’t you think Irvy would just love it?"

"Yes, Selphie," Quistis Trepe said smoothly, her sapphire eyes bright with mischief. "Irvine strikes me as a teddy bear type of guy."

"I know, I..." the exuberant brunette trailed off, her green eyes going wide. She tore her attention away from store front to look hard at her older friend. "You were being sarcastic, weren’t you?"

Quistis was saved from having to answer by a light-heart giggle from behind them. "What are you two looking at?" Rinoa questioned, unconsciously swinging her long dark hair back over her shoulder. The tiny sorceress reached their side, peering around them to see in the window. "Ooh! What a cute teddy bear!"

Giving Quistis a victorious look, Selphie explained, "I thought it would be great for Irvy for Solstice, but Quistis doesn’t think so. What do you think?"

Rinoa shrugged, glad for her heavy wool coat as the winter wind whipped around them. It was only a day until Solstice and the three friends were vigilantly shopping for gifts. "I don’t know. Does he like teddy bears?"

"Fine then," Selphie pouted in mock-anger. "Be that way." She glanced back at the elegant instructor behind her. "If you’re so smart, Miss Trepe, what did you get Irvine?"

Quistis rummaged into her shiny black shoulder bag to reveal a small case. "A rifle-cleaning kit," she answered. She reached in again, pulling out another similar case. "And for your boyfriend,"--she addressed Rinoa--"a gunblade-cleaning kit. See? Perfect, non-encroaching gifts from one platonic friend to the other." The icy breeze tangled in her few loose golden locks as she presented her friends with one of her rare genuine smiles which made her appear to be the eighteen years old she actually was.

Selphie rolled her eyes. "How original. What did you get Zell, a glove cleaning set?"

Quistis shook her head. "No. And I still have to find him something. I want it to be nice."

"Lemme tell you one thing: if I get a nunchaku-cleaning kit from you, I’m going to be one unhappy little girl."

She laughed. "Don’t worry, you won’t. Let me see..." Out of the pocket of her stylish gray coat, she pulled a piece of paper, which she methodically checked. "I still have to get Zell, Xu and Nida something. Then I’m finished. What about you two?"

"I have to get Irvy something spectacular!" Selphie bobbed in place, waving her arms for emphasis. "Then I’m done."

Rinoa’s dark eyes clouded with worry when she responded. "I have no idea what to get Squall," she admitted. "He’s not exactly the easiest guy to read, and I’m not the richest person around."

Quistis tilted her head to one side, watching the pensive sorceress thoughtfully. The SeeDs had never even thought about Rinoa’s lack of finance, although it made sense. While they were continually being paid for various missions, she had no source of income. "I’ll lend you whatever money you need," offered the older woman, patting her companion’s arm comfortingly. "I’ve got some money to spare."

Rinoa thanked her but declined. "I’ll manage, but thanks." Selphie, tired of standing still, took hold of her two friends and dragged them down the sidewalks which lined the Shopping Arcade, ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ at the various merchandise offered up for sale. Rinoa’s attention wasn’t on the festive decor and merry atmosphere of the bustling city, but instead on what she could buy Squall. It was their first Solstice together and she wanted it to be something special, really special. She found herself wandering through the long glass cases of a jewelry store while Quistis was investigated small charms for the charm bracelet that she knew Xu wore behind the gold-edged cuff of her SeeD uniform and Selphie rattled off ideas about what she could buy Irvine.

Toying with her two rings on a thin chain, Rinoa lazily ran her eyes over a display case of silver men’s rings, her eyes falling onto one in particular as if drawn there by magic. Unconsciously, she laid her fingers on the glass above it, disbelieving that such a ring could exist. The ring was decorated with the image of a roaring lion, two small stylized angel-wings flanking the beast. It was the perfect gift for Squall, she realized. He had never asked for his lion’s ring back from her, and she still wore it on her chain. If she could buy this ring for him, they would have a matching set, and his gift to her would be replaced.

Rinoa was fairly bursting with excitement as she asked to hold the lion winged ring. "You have wonderful taste, young lady," cooed the slick salesman with a smile as he watched the dark-haired girl delicately handle the bauble. "That beast is called a lion, you know," he informed her, trying to impress her with his knowledge. "They’re known for pride and courage."

"I know," smiled Rinoa. "I’m in love with one." Not giving him time to mull over that puzzling comment, she cleared her throat, inquiring, "How much is it?"

"Well, a ring like this is very rare and very expensive," he warned her, before giving her a price which dashed her hopes. There was no way she could afford that ring, not on the meager savings she had. Rinoa thought about Quistis’ offer, but quickly dismissed it. She handed the ring back to the salesman. "I’ll have to think about it," she lied, hurrying out of the brightly lit store to catch up with her friends. *****

"So, um...Zell? Why did I let you drag me to this dump?" asked Squall, eyeing the drab dark store with suspicion. They had long left Dollet’s fashionable district for shopping and were now bordering on the seedy parts of town. Were it not for his blue-bladed Lionheart strapped securely to his side, Squall might not have been so easily lured there in the early winter dusk.

Zell shook his head, yanking the creaking door open with one gloved hand. "It’s not a dump," he admonished, forcibly ushering his stoic friend into the darkened shop. "It’s an antique store and they have the coolest stuff! I got Ma a great old picture frame here last year for Solstice. It was gold-leafed and--"

Squall wandered away from the blonde’s long-winded discussion of the picture frame, squeezing through the cluttered rows of shelves and tables covered in what he described as old junk. Even as compactly-built and graceful as he was, Squall had to gingerly make his way through the displays. He could only imagine the hard time his stocky and energetic friend was having.

"And back to your question," Zell was bellowing through the junk and musty silence, "I brought you here because you have no idea whatsoever to buy Rinoa for Solstice!"

Squall scowled in the direction of the voice, knowing that he was correct. What was he going to get Rinoa? He’d racked his brains for weeks, nothing coming to mind. Was there really a gift grand enough to express what he wanted to express to her? He wanted to thank her for saving him, not only literally from the dark time stream after defeating Ultimecia, but from his own fears and phobias of abandonment which had turned him into a silent shell. And he wanted her to know how much he really loved her, since mere words were not enough.

"Ahh!" Even the great commander of the Garden could not help but be frightened by the sudden appearance of a wizened old man wearing thick black-rimmed glasses in his path. The short man looked up at him with quizzical eyes, beady eyes which gleamed in the shallow light as they landed on the Griever pendant hanging from Squall’s heavy silver chain. The old man clutched at it, bringing the pendant just inches from his tiny eyes.

"What work!" he gushed, oblivious to the young man attached to the necklace. "What emotion! I haven’t seen such craftsmanship in ages!"

"That’s great, old man," Squall replied, trying to escape the arthritis-knotted hands, while trying to keep from being strangled as the chain was pulled taunt around his neck. "But let go."

"And the subject!" the old man continued as if Squall had not spoken.

"Zell!" Squall called out, frantic now. He didn’t want to use his gunblade on the old man, but..."Zell!"

"Mr. Dekker!" Zell screeched, using a powerful hand to pry the wrinkled ones loose from the gleaming metal. His best friend straightened and grunted in appreciation, tenderly rubbing his sore neck. "Stop that! This is my friend, Squall Leonhart."

"Oh, really? Good to see you again, Zell. How’s your mother?"

"Fine." Zell waved away his questions. "Look, Mr. Dekker, my friend is lookin’ for a real special gift for his girl for their first Solstice together. Somethin’ old and...sorceress related, maybe."

Mr. Dekker wriggled his heavy eyebrows at Squall for a moment before motioning for them to follow him into the darker recesses of the back-room. Squall was more than skeptical but obediently followed the shorter martial artist into a small room whose wooden walls were covered in shelves of tiny boxes and trinkets.

"Sorceress related, you say?" Mr. Dekker ducked behind the low counter, pulling out a basket full of dainty jewelry dulled with age. "These are said to have belonged to a Centran princess who became a sorceress. They are quite old and beautiful."

Squall glanced at them critically, but shook his head. They weren’t special enough, not for Rinoa. Zell, on the other hand, began to sift through the contents. "Your friend doesn’t seem interested in these," Mr. Dekker remarked as Zell’s sole concentration was riveted on his task.

"I know," Zell stammered, blushing red. "But he’s not the only one who wants to buy something special for a special lady."

One elegant eyebrow disappeared into a fringe of auburn bangs. "And who are you buying something special for?" Squall asked, a teasing timber in the deep voice.

Zell blushed even redder, but said nothing. Squall’s slate-colored eyes roamed over the shelves, quickly and efficiently going through the items. On the last shelf, almost hidden by shadows, he saw what he wanted. "That statue right there," he pointed it out to Mr. Dekker. "Can I see that?"

"Of course." Mr. Dekker carefully carried the trinket over to the counter. "It’s not just a statue, lad. It’s a music box."

"A music box?" The music box was about seven inches tall, with a graceful figure of a young woman adorning its top. Her long white angel wings spread their glorious width behind her, her pale blue robes swirling in the imaginary wind as she lighted to earth, one daintily-painted foot on the flower-covered ground. Her long dark hair was also fluttering in the wind, the paint so rich and gleaming that it resembled carved onyx.

"Hey!" Zell looked up from the basket, a pendant on one hand. "That looks like Rinoa!"

"Ah, the angel," Mr. Dekker said approvingly. "A creature from heaven sent to earth to protect and save mortals, known for their purity and heart." The antique dealer carefully lifted the box to turn the gold key on its underside, filling the air with sweet bell-like music. After only a notes, Squall recognized the melody: Waltz for the Moon. "It’s perfect," he said finally. "How much?" He pulled out a healthy wad of gil notes.

Mr. Dekker’s beady eyes dissolved into pinpoints as a devilish smile split his face. "Well, this is not a matter of money." His eyes gleamed in the pale light. "It is a matter of trade."

Out of breath, Rinoa leaned heavily on the counter of the pawn shop as she waited to be served. The cold air burnt her lungs as she gulped for breath after running across town to get there. The buses were simply too slow.

"Can I help you?" The young woman was polite and cheerful.

Trying not to think about what she was doing, Rinoa slid the plain silver band from her chain. It had been her mother’s, the only thing she had left of her other than memories. "How much can I get for this?" The young woman took the band and examined it. She gave Rinoa her price. The sorceress sighed, agreeing. It would be just enough for Squall’s present.

The woman, as if she could sense Rinoa’s reluctance, inquired, "Are you certain? You can always come back if you’re not."

Rinoa shook her head, strengthening. "No," she handed the ring back to the woman. "Take it."

To keep herself from changing her mind, Rinoa hastily grabbed the offered money and sped out of the shop, hoping to have enough time to get back to the jewelry store.

"You’re back!" Selphie greeted from her place on the floor of their hotel room. Boxes and wrappings were spread out all around, tissue paper and ribbons scattered to the four corners. "Did you get Squall’s present?"

"Yeah." Rinoa held up the small wrapped box which contained the ring. "I made it just in time. Where’s Quistis?" she asked, noticing her absence.

"Oh, she said she had something to do. Left right after you did." Selphie held up a tan cowboy hat. "What do you think? I got this for Irvy."

Rinoa nodded her approval, knowing that Irvine Kinneas had never been disappointed by a cowboy hat. "It’s wonderful. I’m sure he’ll love it."

Selphie nodded, and returned the hat to its box which she sat down to wrap in the brightly-colored foil paper. Rinoa shrugged out of her coat with a sigh, gratefully lowering into a large arm chair to watch Selphie wrangled with the myriad of ribbons she’d purchased. The phone ringed just as Quistis threw open the door, her fair skin rosy from exposure to the cold. "I’ll get it!" she announced, racing across the room to the phone. "Hello? Zell, hi!" she said into the phone, plopping down onto the bed as she spoke.

Selphie tugged on the hem of Rinoa’s skirt to catch her attention, her green eyes bright. "Notice how happy Quistis is when it’s Zell," she giggled quietly.

Quistis shot her a warning look. "Breathless? I just came in the door. He didn’t?" A pause. "He did. Of course, I understand. We’ll be there in a few hours. Bye."

"What did Zell want?" teased Rinoa, letting her mood lift a fraction with the chagrined expression of her blonde friend.

She rolled her eyes, tucking a loose bang behind her ear. "He wanted to ask me if we could stop by Dollet on the way back to the Garden to fetch him and Squall."

The Trabian transfer student squinted in confusion. "What are they doing in Dollet?"

"The same thing we are, most likely--shopping. It is the last day before Solstice. Come on, get your stuff together. I told him we’d be there in a few hours."

Squall nervously plucked at the hem of his dark gray sweater, waiting nervously in one corner of the grand sweeping ballroom for Rinoa. It was still early and none of the guests had yet to arrive, but they’d decided to meet then to exchange gifts. The ball room was golden and glittering, the walls and tables festively decorated in green, red and gold, the finishing touch being a huge evergreen whose massive star was stark against the velvety violet of the night sky through the glass dome.

The commander sat at one of the tables, his present with its huge silver bow sitting unobtrusively on the white tablecloth, patiently awaiting its recipient. Squall raked a hand through his auburn hair in agitation, growing more nervous with each passing second. He was about to march off in search for her when Rinoa stepped through the tall opened doors, his min momentarily dazed by how beautiful she was. She wore a long red velvet skirt and a white lace-trimmed blouse, her long dark hair secured away from her face with jeweled pins. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as she was. Ever.

"Hi there," she smiled, giving him a sweet kiss before taking a seat herself. In her dainty hands was a small box, obviously his present. "Ready to exchange gifts?" asked she, an odd look flitting across her features: not happiness, or sadness, but a strange mixture of the two.

Not that Squall noticed as he tried to mask his own feelings. Suddenly, he no longer trusted his instincts in gift-choosing. What if she hated it? He cleared his throat. "Of course. Here." He thrust the tall box toward her then Rinoa timidly handed him his.

"You first," she urged, unconsciously playing with her long silver chain.

"Okay." Squall peeled away the layer of paper, then opened the black box. Nestled against the black velvet was the lion and angel-wing ring, an impressive display of craftsmanship. Squall was speechless with delight as he stared down at it.

"Don’t you like it?" Rinoa questioned fretfully.

"Like it? I love it, Rin. It’s..."

"Here." Rinoa picked up the ring which Squall was still staring at, taking one of his callused hands in hers. She slipped it onto his finger, delighted that it was a perfect fit. "When I saw it, I knew that it was perfect! It matches your necklace."

A pained look gripped Squall’s face for a moment at her words, causing her to pull away slightly, her fingers instinctively wrapping in her chain. "What’s wrong, Squall?"

How could he explain? Sighing, he looked up from his hand where the ring sparkled to her shining face. That was when he noticed that only one ring dangled from her necklace. "Rinoa...where’s your other ring? Your mother’s ring?" He gently untangled the chain from her now-lax grip, her hair hiding her face as he examined the sole band adorning it.

"That ring was perfect for you, Squall," she repeated softly by way of explanation. "And I couldn’t bear not to get you something spectacular. So, I...I pawned my ring."

"Your mother’s ring?"

She nodded tightly, taking his hands again. "But it was worth it! Don’t look at me like that. You like it, don’t you?"

The tightness left Squall’s face as his shoulders began to shake with silent laughter. He leaned over and gave his surprised girlfriend a soft kiss. "I love it," he declared, mirth in his voice. "Now, open your gift."

With trembling hands, Rinoa managed to open the box, gasping in delight as she pulled out the intricately carved music box adorned by the dark-haired angel. "It’s beautiful," she whispered, entranced by the ceramic wings which looked as soft as feathers. "Squall, I..." He took the box and gingerly wound the golden key. Waltz for the Moon filled the empty ballroom, taking them both back to the memories of their first meeting. Rinoa smiled that same bright smile as she had all those months ago, throwing her arms around her former dance-partner’s neck. "It is the most wonderful gift I’ve ever gotten."

"Glad you like it," he whispered against her hair. She snuggled against his soft sweater, puzzled by the absence of the familiar feeling of his heavy necklace biting against her.

"Where’s Griever?" she asked him, pulling back to look up at him. "I want to see how well he matches your ring."

Again, Squall chuckled softly, gently pushing back a strand of hair from Rinoa’s face. "Well, you pawned your mother’s ring for me, and I traded Griever for the music box."

Rinoa’s night-dark eyes widened in horror. "You didn’t!"

He nodded, still finding humor in the whole situation. The lone wolf, the antisocial cold-hearted Squall Leonhart had traded his most prized possession to a smarmy old antiques dealer for a music box. And thought that it was funny. It seemed beyond the man he’d been a year ago, but perfectly natural for who he was now. She’d changed him that much, and nothing was worthy more than that. The necklace didn’t really matter anymore. Rinoa was his most prized possession.

Rinoa watched in fascination as his laughter rang out, and found herself joining it. Soon, they were both laughing so hard that tears welled up in their eyes. "I love you," Rinoa told him, hugging him with all of her might.

"I love you, too." The new lion ring winked in the colored lights of the Solstice tree, while the soft notes of the music box wafted through the glittering room as the young couple danced to its tune, delirious from happiness. The gifts had come from the heart, asking sacrifices on both sides. But it was worth it, no matter what the gifts might have been. For it was the selfishness of the other which was the greatest gift. The sacrifice of one’s happiness for another. Rinoa and Squall received more than a music box and ring and lost more than a necklace and a wedding band that night. They had gained the ultimate knowledge of the other’s devotion, while losing all lingering doubts. The true and most precious gift exchanged that night was the gift of Love.

"Well that’s it." Quistis laid down her pen and looked up at her companion. "To Squall and Rinoa, From Quistis and Zell. Happy Solstice," was what she had written on the small white card that Zell was tucking into the ribbon on the package.

Zell grinned at her, holding out the box to admire his wrapping job. "I can’t believe they did," he told her. "I can’t believe we did it!"

Quistis smiled, smoothing the soft woolen fabric of her moss-green dress. "I could just tell that Rinoa was up to something when she dashed off like that."

"Won’t she and Squall be surprised when they open that box?" he laughed, gesturing to the box. Their gift to Squall and Rinoa consisted of one Griever necklace bought from a smarmy antiques dealer in Dollet and a silver wedding band pawned in Deling City. Quistis had seen her dear friend give up her ring for the money for Squall’s gift and had immediately bought it back for her. She’d arrived back at the hotel in time to get Zell’s phone call about helping him win back Squall’s necklace from Mr. Dekker, who’d refused to sell them the music box, demanding a trade of the necklace for the trinket.

"To say the least," agreed the instructor, glancing at her slim wrist watch. "The party’s starting," she informed Zell. "We should go."

"One thing before we do."

"Yes?" Quistis turned back to him. He shoved his hands in his pants pocket. "How did you get Dekker to sell you the necklace? He wanted it pretty bad."

The elegant young woman smiled enigmatically as she pulled out a palm-sized clear jewel from her black shoulder bag. Zell was confused. "But, Quisty, that’s an energy crystal."

Her smile broadened. "I know that, and you know that, but Mr. Dekker mistook the other one I had for a rather large diamond."

Zell imagined the shock the old grinch was in for when he tried to sell it. He doubled over in laughter. "You’re something else, Instructor."

"I know." Quistis gathered together her bags of gifts to place under the Solstice tree in the ballroom. "Let’s go." She stopped at the threshold, flashing him one last smile as she toyed with the golden locket she wore. "Thank you for the locket. It’s beautiful."

Zell blushed red into the roots of his wild blonde hair. "So are you," he dared to mumble, causing the usually-unflappable Miss Trepe to blush as furiously as he. They stood there a moment, looking at the other before smiles overcame them both. Quistis transferred one of her bags to Zell, taking his free arm with hers. "Happy Solstice, Zell," she told him, shyly linking her fingers with his.

Zell’s blue eyes were as bright as any star."Happy Solstice, Quisty."

The End

***Author’s Note: Okay, people, all together now: AWWWWW! I know, I know. It’s cliché and wretchedly predictable. But I just couldn’t help myself. I’m fairly bursting with holiday spirit. Now you see why I stressed that this was in no way related to my other fic? The little Quistis/Zell action there at the end. I’m sure you’ve all guessed that I ‘borrowed’ this little scenario from the famous O. Henry short story called "The Gift of the Magi." It’s a great little story and you all should read it. Well, I hope you enjoyed it. As always, please review. And Happy Holidays!***