Deathly Accurate

Summary: When top-level SeeDs start turning up dead, Quistis Trepe is ordered to investigate. Now, with the help of a new partner and a psychic, she must stop the murderer before she becomes the next victim. Some OOC, but not enough to matter.

Chapter One: Murder

A/N: With my interest in Resurrection drawing to a close, I decided to break off from the overly action-packed stuff and go with a suspense/mystery thriller type of fic. I chose Quistis because, let's face it, she is the smartest of the SeeDs. As for her partner, it's a side character from the game who was way underdeveloped. I will let you know now, there are going to be main character deaths. However, don't feel afraid to flame me.

This fic is dedicated to my loyal reviewers: Gullwing Yunie, Rakunya, Sorceress Eternity, and Chocobo Nunchaku. Thanks for sticking with me when everyone else thought I was insane for writing a FFVIII/Zombie fic.

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The yellow tape and orange cones did nothing to keep curious eyes from the crime scene. Voices rose and cameras flashed in the direction of the figure outlined in chalk. Around it stood several young men and women in SeeD uniforms, their attention focused solely on hiding the body from the public. If need be, the intimidating force could turn deadly.

A black vehicle, a cross between an armoured escort and an SUV, pulled up. The unwanted audience was distracted momentarily as they realized someone important had arrived.

The driver's side door opened and black boot with stiletto-esque high heels hit the dark pavement with a click as a woman stepped out. Long blonde hair that normally fell past her shoulders was pulled into a ponytail and trailed down the ridges of her back that showed where her spine was. Magnificent blue eyes were magnified by spectacles that had slipped from the bridge of her nose to the edge. With pale, slender fingers, the glasses were returned to their rightful place. At her side, hanging from a loop on her belt, was a coiled up whip made from chain and Catcherpillar webbing. At her shoulder was a 9 mm handgun, tucked away in a standard issue SeeD shoulder holster.

"Miss Trepe! Miss Trepe, is Garden involved in this heinous crime?" a man yelled, shoving a microphone in her face. Annoyed she batted it away as two other SeeDs exited the vehicle, only to push the paparazzi back behind the press line.

Quistis was in a dark blue power suit and white scientist's jacket. Normally, she wouldn't wear such a thing, but earlier that day she had attended an opening of a museum dedicated to the victims of the most recent Sorceress War. She wouldn't have gone, but she'd been coerced by the Garden Commander, Squall Leonhart, to do so as a show of goodwill between Garden and the three major world nations.

The Instructor-turned-Investigator was approached by a short young man with dark hair, hazel eyes with flecks of green, and skin a few shades lighter than the bark of a midona (A/N: elm) tree. "Miss Trepe?"

"Captain Dura," Quistis said with a handshake. "I wish we were seeing each other again under happier circumstances."

"As do I," Dura responded as he pulled his hand away from Quistis. He lifted the yellow tape and the tall woman bent forward to fit under it.

"What's the situation?"

"Undercover SeeD agent found dead at 7:30 pm by a woman walking her dog down this alley. She has been compensated for her silence, so we need not worry about this leaking out," Dura assured the woman.

With a sigh, Quistis looked back at the media trying to get a glimpse of who was lying dead on the blacktop. A flash went off, and she had to blink several times before the spots would dissipate. "It doesn't appear that way."

"They just smell a story. No details have been released," Dura wiped his hands on his pant legs and led Quistis to the body. "Visual examination has estimated that he has been dead less than twenty-four hours, and that this was a dumping spot, not the scene of the murder. I have men and women out scouting the locals for information."

"What was his assignment?" she asked as she looked down at the dead man. He was in a disguise: dyed hair, false teeth, and contacts to change his eye colour. "Infiltration?"

"We're waiting on the information to come back from Garden's database, but it would appear so. Most likely in the employ of the local government to get into the local gangs. The tattoos suggest that, anyway."

"Tattoos?"

"Show her," Dura ordered a young female SeeD. She snapped on a pair of latex gloves and carefully rolled back a sleeve on the corpse's shirt. Indeed, a long tattoo in the shape Ifrit in battle with Shiva ran up the arm. It was an uncommon design that Quistis had seen far too many times not to recognize.

"I know who that is," Quistis said. She wiped her hand across her forehead, small rivulets of sweat gathering.

"Who is it, Miss Trepe?" the young female SeeD asked. A wide-eyed curiosity seemed to have gripped her.

"Yes, let's see that famous wit at work," Dura agreed, rocking on the balls of his feet.

"That young man is as well known as I," Quistis had her eyes narrowed in concentration. Something was obviously bothering her. "That is Zell Dincht lying before us."

Of course the Captain and the SeeD gasped, but the others made no distinction of surprise, lest the press realize that some development had occurred in the case. Of course, the SeeD recovered quickly, putting on a mask of professionalism. Dura, being with local police force, continued to look concerned.

"Captain Dura," Quistis wrung her hands behind her back, trying to hide her own fear. "I must request that you keep this information to yourself. If word were to get out that such a powerful warrior is dead..."

"Understood," the Captain nodded. "And I'll make sure that this doesn't make it into any newspapers."

A small smile appeared on the Instructor's face. "Oh, that isn't necessary, Captain. We at SeeD have our own way of dealing with the media."

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Balamb Garden's Commander, Squall Leonhart, said nothing during the video conference. His dark eyes just narrowed and stared into those of the Blonde who was staring at the screen. Whether or not the intentions behind it could be transferred electronically, Quistis still had to fight the urge to shudder. Instead, she simply stared back at the screen and her boss.

When she had been informed of her promotion from SeeD/Instructor at Balamb Garden to Headmaster of Galbadia Garden, the whip wielding warrior had not been ecstatic. The "Red Garden," as the locals referred to it, was in utter chaos when she showed up. The Galbadian military had deserted it, leaving the red floating building to drift alone on the water. They had found it with the Ragnarok, towed it to Fisherman's Harbour for repair, and it fell immediately under Quistis's control. Of course, the intelligent young woman shouldered the unwanted burden, but the fact that she had to update Squall on every situation was an insult. She had been one of the three that ran Balamb Garden during the Sorceress War, working alongside Xu and Dr. Kadowaki, in addition to working with Squall and the others in bringing about the downfall of the Sorceresses. And when the party "inherited" the Ragnarok, Quistis spent hours pouring over e-mails from the other two women about the problems they were having. Surely Squall would have trusted her enough to leave Galbadia Garden under her expert command. Of course, he didn't.

"What is your opinion on this matter?" Quistis continued to glare after breaking the silence, but refusing to blink. If she showed any other signs of weakness, he would come to believe that he could manipulate her even more than he already did. Quistis refused to let that happen.

Finally breaking the visual showdown, Squall shuffled some papers on his desk and cleared his throat. Quistis didn't dare smile, but beneath her own desk she clenched her hands in silent victory. "Instructor Trepe," even after all of the time they had spent together and her elevation from Instructor to Headmaster, he continued to call her that, "in conjunction with the official report and your own statements, I have decided to temporarily relieve you of your control over Galbadia Garden. You will investigate the situation surrounding Zell Dincht's death. During the time of your investigation, Xu will commandeer my other Garden."

My other Garden. The words rang in Quistis's ears, showing just how much respect he had for her. Her butt had been working itself off to bring the dying Garden back to life, and at that moment it hummed with as much life as the other two. The internal repairs had even included the ice rink on the lowest floor, which gave the students a place to vent their frustrations with figure skating during the week and hockey games on weekends. Oddly enough, it was the figure skating that had become the more popular of the two sports. Even the famous Headmaster herself was known to strap on a pair of skates and twirl along on the ice, her students cheering as she completed pirouettes and other complicated skating moves.

"And how am I to investigate Zell's death, Commander Leonhart?" The formality of the conversation didn't bother her at all, but the emotionless way he had reacted towards Zell's death did. Quistis had cried into a glass of blackberry merlot the night before as her grey tabby curled up at her feet on the sofa. Squall didn't even seem to register that he had lost a good friend, it appeared. Then again, even with her years of practice, Quistis still had trouble reading her former student. "I won't have the resources of Garden behind me if I'm resigned from my position of Headmaster, even if it is only temporary."

Squall laughed darkly, causing an involuntary twitch in Quistis's right eye. It seemed impossible that he could find any humour in the situation. "You will still have Garden's resources, but I'm asking an old friend to assist you."

"And who would that be?" Being left out of the loop wasn't something that Quistis took lightly. Information was what she worked with, and she needed it as soon as it became available.

"My sister," was all Squall said. He saluted Quistis, who returned the military greeting, and the screen went blank. The Instructor leaned forward in her chair, her chin hitting her chest painfully, and let out a long breath. What she needed least was to baby-sit Squall's older sister, on top of solving her friend's murder.

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A/N: So, what do you guys think? Until ­Resurrection is finished I can't promise regular updates on this fic, but I will (hopefully) be sticking with it. Please R&R, as I thrive on confirmation of my talent (or lack thereof).