Well, this is my first try at a Seiftis/Quiefer. I'm not completely sure where I'm going with this just yet, but if you have any suggestions, I'll be glad to hear them. Hey, even a suggestion for a better title could work. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.

Disclaimer: I would like to own Final Fantasy 8; it would add extra money to shopping. Unfortunately, I don't.

Quistis allowed her eyes to slide to a close once she brought the glass up to her mouth, tipping the glass to her slightly parted mouth, the intoxicating taste of alcohol spilling forth onto her tongue. Opening her eyes, her face contorted in distaste as she set the glass back upon the bar table. Her fingers idly circled the top of the glass, her gaze remaining on the few drops of liquid left clinging to the sides.

"Any more, ma'am?" The voice of the bartender spoke up. Quistis raised her gaze to him before shaking her head slowly.

"No, that'll be all," She said, her voice drifting off as the bartender nodded before walking off. Quistis allowed a soft sigh to pass her lips, her gaze making its way to the crowd of dancers.

It had only been a few weeks since Squall and Rinoa had announced their engagement, but she wasn't over the fact yet. Hell, she wouldn't even be over it by the time they were married. She couldn't help but still be stuck on him. Even after being told to talk to a brick wall, her affections had remained strong for him.

Why was it that he never seemed to notice her? She had always been there to offer help to him, yet he didn't even care. Though, once that twit had showed up with her childish ways, he fell for her. What did Rinoa have that she didn't? Besides the girl's whining ways, she couldn't find anything.

Quistis stood up from the stool before she made her way around the crowd of dancers, her gaze searching for the exit to the club. Drowning her sorrows away in glasses of alcohol had done little except offset her balance; leave her with a faint headache and a foul taste in her mouth.

Her spirits lifted once her gaze fell upon the door, the glowing red letters, "Exit," seeming almost a savior. Allowing a smile to trace her lips, she began walking towards the door, her normal alertness gone. She hadn't even felt the two pairs of eyes staring at her, following her. She pushed her way out the door and into the cold night air, a soft shudder running down her spine.

"Well, what do we have here, Butch?" A husky voice asked, causing the hairs on Quistis' neck to stand on end. Instinctively her hand slipped to her side where her whip should have been.

"Lovely, aren't you?" Butch asked Quistis, the two men walking past either side of her before coming to stand in front of her. She stood her ground, allowing her blue eyes to travel over them.

Butch had blonde hair with the tips twisted into spikes, frosted over with the faint gleam of silver. His eyes were a dark brown, almost matching the open leather jacket he wore over a white shirt, both stained and ripped at the collar. A pair of loose black pants and metal-tipped boots finished off his ensemble. He had metal spikes worn on the left wrist of his jacket, gleaming gently with help of the street lights.

The other man, whose name wasn't mentioned, had black hair that was gelled back, save the few strands the fell in front of his icy blue eyes. His outfit matched Butch's almost to perfection except for the fact that his shirt was clean and clear of any rips. Instead of having metal spikes upon his jacket, there was a faint rise in his left pocket, indicating either a dagger of some sort or a gun.

"What do you want?" Quistis asked, having no interest in drawing out a game. Butch laughed before stepping closer to her, using his left hand to trace through her blonde hair, which she had left down tonight.

"What do you think we want?" He asked. Quistis pulled her head away from his touch, only to have her hair pulled back to his hand.

"Let go of me," She said, her breath catching in her throat once she felt the cold chill of metal press against her neck.

"I'm afraid we can't do that," the other man said as Butch wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close to him. She felt the affects of alcohol taking over, the images around her growing hazy as she struggled to pull away.

"I'm afraid you'll have to," a voice came from behind her. Through the haze, she could see the look of fear register on the faces of both men as Butch released her. They quickly recovered, the one man pushing her aside to walk towards the new man. She felt her balance fall from her as she dropped to the ground, hearing the clash of metal.

"Well, if it isn't the infamous lapdog," Butch said with a laugh. She could hear the slight grunt of struggling, her head coming to rest against the pavement.

"Why must people call me that?" The voice sounded more annoyed than in distress. She heard a blade slice through the air, followed by the tearing of flesh. Something hit the ground and there was a horrified scream before another object fell. She couldn't even allow the fact that a severed head laid in front of her bother her.

"Quistis?" The voice spoke again, more worried this time. She felt strong arms wrap her in a warm embrace and her head fell against the male chest. Her gaze slowly moved up to the figure's face as the last of her consciousness gave way. The last thing she saw before drifting off was a pair of jade eyes. So familiar.