AU When Quistis Trepe woke up from night at the bar, she expected a hangover - not to wake up unexpectedly married to a famous cold-hearted author. Now they've got to fake 50 days of marriage until they get the divorce papers, but by the time they get them ... will they need them? QUALL
The first thing that entered her heard when she was in the process of waking up was she had a hell of head ache. The second, quickly followed after the first; was the fact that the head ache, was in fact, a hangover. She promptly groaned.
She opened her eyes, wincing at the light that was pouring through the windows. The insanely-it-should-be-illegal-it's-too-damn-bright light, that is. She brought a hand up to her head, and was surprised by a small pain as she did that.
Frowning, she moved her hand so she could see it properly without squinting. A ring. Not any ring, though. One with a huge diamond in it. She blinked. This was not a good sign. Suddenly she felt a bit chilly, and went to pull her pyjamas closer in an effort to keep warm. Only there was none.
Slowly, she looked down. She was naked. This wasn't a good start to her day. She felt fear rising up inside her. Quistis Trepe had never drank in her life, so when her best friend Xu, had dragged her to a bar in a Deling, it was only natural she'd get drunk.
What wasn't natural, was that she was in what looked like a fancy hotel, with a ring that wasn't hers and - oh. Dear. God. She slowly rolled over in fear, a naked man next to her.
Doing the only logical, well not even logical - just doing the first thing that popped into her head, she screamed. Now this wasn't one of those I'm-a-damsel-in-distress-come-help-me screams, no, no; this was a holy-shit-I-woke-up-with-stange-man-I've-never-seen-in-my-entire-life screams.
The man, who was obviously not deaf since he heard her, jerked awake and fell off the bed with a loud thump. She scrambled to the other side of the bed, away from his and took the bed sheets with her.
And that's when she noticed it. A marriage certificate on top of a fancy wooden desk. Oh wonderful, she thought, she got drunk, got married and most likely slept with a man she had never even met before.
Clutching the bed sheets close to her, she was tying her hardest not to hyperventilate. Well, she thought dryly, at least she was married before she had sex - too bad she didn't remember anything about it.
She cautiously poked her head out to look over the bed, who knows, he could be a serial killer or something. The blonde squinted at the foreign brunette. He didn't look dangerous, however, he did look pissed off as he pulled his jeans on.
It occurred to her, it would probably be a good idea to put her cloths on as well, when she felt her shirt barely skim the top of her head when the man threw it to her. Fine, two could play that game, she decided throwing his shirt at him.
After throwing clothes back and forth she got dressed in what she assumed, she had worn the night before. "I want a divorce." She said as she peered at the marriage certificate, that said in bold print Quistis Trepe and Squall Leonheart had gotten married the previous night.
She frowned, the name sounded a bit familiar; however being just an instructor she didn't keep up with all the star glamour and stuff her students did. "Hn." Was all he said before, going to the door.
"Hey, wait. Can at least get a number? I don't plan on staying married to someone I don't even know!" She said calling after him, trying desperately to keep up with his long strides despite certain pain.
He stopped and stared at her for a moment. She stared back, he had gorgeous grey eyes, brunette hair, and she paused, a very, very expensive leather jacket. "Stop limping." He told her coldly, "They're going to think I tortured you or something."
"What?" She hissed angrily, "What do mean stop limping? It's kind of hard not to!" He said nothing and continued walking down the hotel lobby... with a huge chandelier. It occurred to her this guy must be rich, as he walked to front desk and paid with a cheque book.
Then she started wondered who 'they' were, maybe he worked for the government or some paying company... what if he worked for an illegal operation? Or worse? She got so wrapped up in her thoughts she just barely saw him opening the hotel doors. The blonde groaned, and scurried after him.
To be frank, she wasn't prepared for all the microphones, the huge mass of reporters or the bright camera flashes; so she only just barely found her way behind him with all the flashing lights and loud noise.
"Mr. Leonheart, when do plan on writing your auto-biography?" One asked from the very back of the crowd.
"How does it feel to be the most wanted bachelor?" A red haired woman asked from the front.
Bachelor? Quistis thought dryly, not anymore.
"How do you feel about the reviews of your books?" A man asked. Ohhh, so he was a writer! That's why his name sounded so familiar, she remember some of the girls in her classes were talking about his book series... too bad she couldn't remember what the series was called for the life of her.
And then, the 'piranhas' spotted her.
"Mr. Leonheart, is that your new girlfriend, or another one of you fan girls?" The same red-haired woman asked.
All the murmuring, loud voices, questions and whispers were not helping her hangover
"What is your relationship with her?" A man from the front asked loudly. The crowd went silent. The blonde paused to look at the mysterious brunette; he'd have to be pretty stupid to blurt out and say they got drunk and wound up getting married by mistake.
She could practically see the wheels turning in his head and turned back to the crowd for a moment. She wanted out of here. Now. That's when it happened.
"She's got a wedding ring!" Someone yelled loudly.
And all Hell broke loose.
"When did you get married?" A raven-haired woman asked.
"How did you meet?" Another person asked loudly.
"Where did you get married?" A bald reporter asked.
Squall put his hand up to stop any further comments. "Ladies," at which practically all the female reporters swooned over his voice, "and gentlemen, my wife," He paused a moment trying to recall her name. "Quistis Trepe, and I got married last night in private. We are in love very much, and this will not affect any further publications of mine, nor my wife's career." He announced loudly. As if to kill off any further questioning about their 'marriage', he grabbed poor (still hung over) Quistis and kissed her - in front of the whole crowd.
And the whole crowd, if asked, would tell you that was not a peck on the lips either. Being the smart man Squall was, moved so his back was facing the crowd so no one would see his 'wife' trying in vain to push him off her. He pulled away, "Don't do anything stupid." He muttered before turning back to the crowd.
"Mrs. Trepe, how did you meet Mr. Leonheart?" A reporter asked. They both froze, turned to each other, and then back to the crowd in an awkward silence.
Squall cleared his throat. "You must excuse her, she's a bit tired from last night's activities, if you understand what I'm getting at. Please excuse us, I believe I see out limo." As he took her by the hand and pulled her through the crowd to the black limo he had, indeed, spotted in the midst of the crowd; she knew women were glaring at her in pure envy.
"What do mean 'activities'?" She hissed angrily, "I've got a reputation as an instructor!" He said nothing but opened the door and pulled her inside of the limo.
She watched in silence as he pulled out a cell phone, and punched in some numbers. "Irvine?" He asked. Silence. "Yes, I realize this is all over the news. No, this wasn't planned. Shut up for a minute. Good. We got drunk and got married some how. No, I do not want a public wedding. Just get me some divorce papers, all right?" He sighed, for a moment and turned to her. "What do you want?" He asked.
She looked at him confused. "What do you mean what do I want?"
He sighed in exasperation. "Money?" She stared blankly at him. "It's a divorce, you must want something out of this." He explained.
She shook her head. "I just don't want to be married anymore."
He stared at her in confusion for a moment before turning back to his phone. "She doesn't want anything. No, that's what she said. Now about the forms -" He narrowed his eyes. "What do mean it will take 50 days? You're my manager, do something about it. ...Screw you." He flipped the cell phone shut angrily.
"50 days?" She repeated slowly. He nodded, and turned to the driver and nodded. The driver nodded from behind bullet proof glass and started the car.
He said nothing, so they sat in silence the whole way there. The limo was very elegant to say the least, with black leather seats and what she was pretty sure of being a fridge...? The scenery passed by quickly and they soon pulled up in front of a large mansion.
Squall got out first, and raised an eyebrow at her. She took the hint and got out, almost stumbling over her own feet in the process. He opened the gates to his huge house and frantic beeping went off, he calmly walked over to a security panel and punched in a few buttons, and then went to open the actual home door.
She quietly followed him into the foyer. A huge foyer, that was, decorated with various, expensive portraits and photographs. Quistis looked when she heard scratching against the floor, and a big dog same bounding towards then clumsily skidding to a stop in front of them. It looked like a German Shepard/collie mix.. or something along those lines.
The blonde heard her 'husband' sigh, "Rinoa, come get your dog." He managed to grit out, angrily. She quirked an eyebrow, Rinoa? What, he was married or dating, too? She frowned, that would just figure. Knowing her luck, she got married to someone who was already married.
She let out a small sigh of relief, when a petite girl with blonde-streaked raven hair in a maid outfit scrambled down the steps followed by another female maid with light brown hair. "Sorry, sir." She said, giving a please-don't-kill-me? smile. "He must have gotten out on his own."
"He is pretty smart." The other girl piped up, taking Squall's jacket from him. "Oh, hey, who are you?" She asked Quistis, cheerfully. "Squall brought home a girlfriend? Whooooa." She turned to the raven-haired girl, grinning. "We thought you'd stay single for ever!"
"Selphie." Squall grit out in a warning voice. She shut up immediately. "Give her a tour, Rinoa, tell the cooks to make lunch." The girls watched as he left for the huge winding staircase.
"Yes, sir." The mock saluted him when he left. They turned back to the blonde, "Are you a writer, too?" Rinoa asked.
Quistis shook her head, "No, I'm an instructor."
"Oh, well come on then." Selphie said grinning, taking her hand and leading her through the house.
"This is the kitchen, it's kinda big and it's easy to get lost in. The cooks get mad if you go in when they're cooking so don't go in when they do." Rinoa said, after returning from telling the cooks to make lunch.
"Oh, oh. Here's the living room!" Selphie said giddily, leading her into a huge dark green room with large couches and huge fish tank in the wall. "Next," She said, leading her up the stairs, "Is the bedrooms."
Quistis paused for a moment, looking at a room they missed. "What about down there?" Both Selphie and Rinoa paused.
"That's his writing room. Don't go in there, he gets really mad if you do!" Selphie explained, leading her up the stairs.
"Okay, let's see... there's the bathroom, and there, and there...." The raven haired girl said pointing at random rooms, along with guest bedrooms. "There's Squall's room, and this," She pointed out at the end of the hallway, "Is my room and there," She pointed to the room beside it, "Is Selphie's."
"Oh, there's the pool! I totally forgot about that." Selphie exclaimed, slapping the back of her head sheepishly. "It's down the hall-"
"LUNCH!" Someone yelled from downstairs.
"Oh, lunch's ready already?" The raven haired girl asked; as walked to Squall's room and knocked on the door. "Sir? Lunch is ready." She turned to Quistis and Selphie, "He'll meet us down there, let's go."
"Kay." The brunette said smiling, leading the blonde back downstairs. "Here's the dinning room. Big, huh?" The blonde knew even if she wasn't hung over she'd have the same reaction of just staring.
"Wow." She finally managed.
"Ah, madam, please sit." A man said from across the room. "Lunch is being served, where is the he?" The man sighed, putting a hand to his head. "He's always late. I make lunch and this is what I get - no attendance!" He said angrily, throwing his hands up in the air.
As if on cue, Squall walked in stoically and sat opposite of her. If someone had told her a week ago, she would be married to a famous millionaire author and eating lunch with she would have told them they were crazy.
The cooks brought out some sort of expensive chicken dish and she looked up to see his maids waiting at the brunette's side. "Aren't you going to eat with us?" She asked, somewhat confused. She was an instructor, she couldn't grasp the rules of being rich at all. What so ever, and was completely confused when Squall gave her a are-you-stupid look and then resumed eating.
The maids gave her weak smiles, and gestured for her to go back and eat. "We eat later," They told her.
The rest of the meal was in complete silence. Awkward silence, that it, until finally she spoke up.
"Thank you for the meal, but I need to get back to Balamb soon. If you can fax the divorce forms to me, I'll sign them. Then we can clear this whole mess up. Do you have a phone I can use? I'll call a cab."
"You can't leave," Squall said coldly, from his seat. Everyone stared at him. "If you go back to Balamb now, and tell the headmaster what happened do you think he'll still want to hire you knowing you got drunk and ended up married? Headlines will go up bashing us both and none of us will be able to get a career afterwards. Just stay here, we'll act married for however long it takes to get the forms and then you're free to go."
She stared at him, disbelievingly. "If there was another way of getting the forms with out going through my agent, it'd be done already. Don't get any ideas about me wanting you here. I don't give a damn about you." He said coldly, getting up. "Rinoa, get her a room."
Quistis was silently fuming when he left the room. "Asshole." She muttered, she surprised herself by saying that, usually she was a docile person.
And all he did was glare.
Well I hope that was a good beginning chapter. I'm not too sure about anyone's personalities, really. I haven't played FF8 since... urgh the summer and I'm kinda out of it. I've decided I'm going to do previews of the next chapter in this fic, so here it goes.
"Act like husband and wife, the reporter's going to be here any minute!" Selphie said, practically throwing a horrified Quistis on an extremely calm Squall. Well practically throwing wouldn't be an exaggeration, because she landed on top of him awkwardly, gripping his shirt in an attempt not to fall off the bed when she had landed. Squall raised an eyebrow. She went to go move but her bracelet was snagged on the collar of his shirt. She groaned, as she moved her other hand to his neck to un-do the bracelet. "The reporter's going to be here soon," He hissed. "Get off!"
"I can't, I'm stuck." She hissed back.
"Fine, I'll move you by force." He said, moving his hands to her waist. And that's when the reporter came in. They both froze.
The reported raised an eyebrow. There was the famous author's wife... on top of him... straddling him, by the looks of it, with her arms around his neck, and the author himself with his hands on her waist. He sighed, it was going to be a long day.