I've been getting increased requests for another Decorum, and I've kinda felt like a jerk for sitting on this one. Also, it makes me giggle.

Don't own FFVII, but if I did I would build it into a porn empire. So if Squeenix hears that and decides it sounds good, woo hoo.

Love you all for the reviews and the faithfulness to this bizarre series. This one returns to the time of P.S.Z. (pre-Zack-and-Seph), so I'm afraid there's no sex, but I hope you like it.

IMPERTINENCE

"I don't know about Thompson."

Lazard flipped to that file and, adjusting his glasses, again scanned the sheaf of stats and mission reports. "Grades as a cadet, high average. Mako tolerance, good...what's the problem?"

"His mission rankings," Angeal said. "Every one of them contains the word 'satisfactory'."

"And...?"

"He can do better than that. We should not reward anything less than full commitment."

Commander Hitchcock, one of the highest-ranked members of SOLDIER, frowned at Angeal from across the conference table. "Is that fair? Thompson has been a 3rd for two years and performed well. Maybe a promotion is just what he needs, an encouragement to try harder."

"Or, it will give him the impression that he need not try harder. I don't need a 2nd who's satisfied and isn't motivated to pursue his goals."

Hitchcock smiled knowingly. "Yes, but as a 2nd, he'll have you to lecture him about the importance of dreams and pride. They're not all starry-eyed romantics like you, Angeal."

Angeal glared, but there was little power in it. Yes, he knew that, it was one reason why he didn't relate well to the lower Classes (with one well-known exception). They all seemed eager to fight, to gain power and prestige, and a good number seemed mainly interested in gawking at Sephiroth. Sometimes Angeal felt he had been born too late in this modern world, where "honor" was little more than a pretentious word to most people.

Ever the diplomat, Executive Director Lazard offered a solution. "We could give Thomspon one of the open slots on the Junon mission, and re-evaluate based on how he does."

"Sounds good to me."

"Very well." Just as Angeal was about to stand, Hitchcock turned and spoke to him. "You're sure you don't want to talk about Fair?"

Angeal sighed.

"Top of his class as a cadet," Lazard said, not needing to look at a file, knowing these things as all of SOLDIER did, "reaction to mako good, mission rankings glowing, already fighting on a 2nd-Class level."

"Zack is seventeen," Angeal reminded them. "Elevation to 2nd is practically unheard of at seventeen."

"But he's proven himself," Hitchcock said, in his deep, reasonable voice. "You said yourself we should reward determination as well as talent, and Zack certainly possesses both. He's around the upper Classes more than the 3rds anyway."

"And you're asking me to separate him from his peers completely."

"You're worried about jealousy? Zack's too well-liked for that."

"I know."

"Then what is it?"

Angeal sighed again. He was still not used to this, not used to considering so much in a SOLDIER. It was his job to keep his subordinates alive and well-trained, capable of performing their duties. They didn't talk to him about feelings, none of them had wormed their way into his heart, despite his distant fondness and pride for them. Zack was a singular phenomenon, a whole person he was constantly tempted to be over-careful with. It was vexing, not least because his love for the boy was so obvious.

"However exceptional Zack is, his association with me makes promotion too early a bad idea," Angeal said haltingly. "I don't want anyone thinking he's being favored. It's potentially problematic enough that you and the other 1sts treat him like a pet."

"Hey, you're the one who gave him the nickname."

"I didn't intend it to become so widely-known."

"Delaying promotion to 2nd means delaying promotion to 1st," Hitchcock complained. "And you know how eager we are to get him."

"If he brings finger-paints into my office one more time, you can have him."

"You're not fooling anyone, Angeal. But because I respect you so much, I won't tell you what I think the real problem is here."

"Just say it."

Hitchcock smirked. "I think someone's afraid of empty-nest syndrome. Or empty-doghouse syndrome, I guess, in this case."

Angeal rolled his eyes and stood, gathering his files together. "That concludes the meeting. Thank you, Director, Commander."

"His birthday is only a couple months away," Hitchcock called back as he headed for the door. "This isn't over!"

"Director, what do you think?"

Lazard offered his usual benevolent smile. "I think Fair's skill is more than enough for a 2nd Class. But I know you have other things you must consider."

Angeal nodded. "His concentration has been improving, but he's still too reckless. It worries me. And it shouldn't," he added quietly.

"Of course it should."

"Not like this."

"Fair shouldn't mean more to you than any other 3rd Class, you mean?" Lazard laughed softly. "Maybe not logically. But logic has no place in these matters. No man is an island. Not you, not even Sephiroth."

Sephiroth. The name of his closest friend gave a name to the faint uneasiness that had been building in Angeal for months, ever since the incident in the VR Training Room. Though the general had assured Angeal that Fair's crush didn't bother him, he had been somewhat off ever since, preoccupied. More than that, Zack had hardly spoken of the embarrassing event, or of Sephiroth, which in itself told Angeal that the boy was not quite over it, and nowhere near over Sephiroth.

And to top it all off, Zack had been unusually well-behaved lately. It wasn't like Zack to have a feeling and do nothing about it, he simply felt things too strongly. Angeal was nervous about the sudden lack of mischief and what it might mean, almost enough to consider supplying the finger-paint himself or letting Zack play in the Turks' armory. Anything but wait.

"Oh, Commander?" Hitchcock's amused voice drifted in from the hallway. "I have something of yours."

Angeal was pretty sure he could guess, but he still made a noise of surprise when he took one step out of the conference room and was rushed by a shorter body. Hands clutched his uniform and a head of spiky black hair buried itself in his sweater with a wail of "Hide me!"

Normally Angeal, always conscious of his dignity, would gently pry Zack off and remind him about the no-hugging-in-public rule. But the boy seemed genuinely distraught, and that brought up a very different set of instincts. Without thinking, he put his arms around Zack and patted his hair a few times, ignoring Hitchcock's irritating smile.

"All right, Puppy," Angeal said softly, "calm down and tell me what's wrong."

"Promise you won't kill me?"

"I promise."

"I think I did something stupid."

"Please tell me you haven't been spiking Heidegger's coffee again."

"No," Zack said, his voice muffled.

"You haven't been hanging around Reno, have you?"

"Uh-uh."

"Then what?" Angeal's phone beeped, indicating a text message. He opened it and read the small screen with a frown. "Does this have anything to do with Sephiroth wanting to see me, immediately?"

Zack groaned pitifully and only clung tighter. Angeal carefully shrugged him off and took him by the shoulders. The boy looked up at him, biting his lip nervously and at least having the decency to look apologetic. Damn it. If anyone were to use Sense materia on Angeal, he was pretty sure his weaknesses would be revealed to be adorable pouts and pale blue puppy eyes.

"I wasn't really thinking, till afterwards…" Zack mumbled.

"We've talked about that."

"I know. I'm really sorry. Are you gonna let him kill me?"

"Of course not," Angeal sighed. "I'll take care of this. You and I will discuss this later. Go back to your apartment. I'll be over as soon as I can and you had better be there."

"I promise!" Relieved, regaining some of his usual bounciness, Zack grabbed Angeal in a cheerful hug. "You're the best!"

"I'm out of my mind," Angeal grumbled, looking up to glare at Hitchcock, who was shaking with repressed laughter. "Don't you have duties to attend to?"

"Right. Of course. First I should call my wife, or I'll be in the doghouse." Hitchcock winked and strolled away.

It's amazing that anyone at all still finds me intimidating.

zszsz

Though Angeal moved toward the door silently, Sephiroth opened it before he could knock. The general was sometimes almost precognitive, his senses were so enhanced. Though it was equally possible that he had been standing there this whole time, doorknob in hand. Literally in hand. Well, better that pieces be ripped off a door than limbs off of Zack.

Far more pressing was the green bubbling in the normally silver eyes. It wasn't like Sephiroth to get worked up over…practically anything, certainly not a childish prank, which Angeal assumed was what had happened. He couldn't imagine anything Zack had done with good intent that would prompt this much anger, and Zack could no more intend to do harm than he could keep from bouncing or sit still for a solid five minutes. Angeal moved to enter the apartment, and Sephiroth stepped back to let him.

"Hey, Seph, I got your message," he said, subtly glancing around the main room in a sweep to look for bodies. "Everything all right?"

A feral stare was his answer. Angeal was one of the few people who did not fear Sephiroth, but he had to admit, he was getting nervous. He hadn't seen Sephiroth this out of it since that injection of contaminated mako put him into a psychotic rage and made him destroy half the equipment in the lab. Hojo had afterward said it must have been a contaminated sample, at least, sedating Sephiroth with a tranquilizer dart and draining his body of the faulty mako. Angeal wasn't so sure. That had been right after Genesis's death, and Sephiroth wouldn't, or couldn't, cry…

"Seph, calm down. What's the situation?"

Another flare of furious green, but then the general closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. When he opened them they were angry still, and something else - maybe confused? - but mostly silver again, at least.

"What did he do?" Angeal asked carefully.

Sephiroth scowled darkly and indicated an object on the coffee table that most certainly did not belong in this darkly elegant apartment. It was a bright red gift bag patterned with balloons, and Sephiroth was keeping his distance from it like he would…no, Angeal couldn't think of an opponent Sephiroth wouldn't choose over this. He noticed with a soft groan - and no surprise - that the tag tied to the bag's handle read 'To General Sephiroth. Love, Zack.'

Oh Puppy, what have you done?

With trepidation, Angeal moved aside the folds of red tissue paper and reached inside. His hand grabbed something pliable and soft, he drew it out…oh Gaia. It was a stuffed Bandersnatch, deprived of everything that made the creature vicious, reduced from a ferocious wolf to a harmless dog. Its floppy black ears fell over shining eyes, its teeth were bared in what looked like a canine smile, tongue hanging out playfully, and it crouched in an eager stance as though waiting for a stick to be thrown. It was a toy that would delight any young child. And apparently enough to drive Sephiroth to the edge of his sanity.

"I have to kill him. For your sake, I will do it quickly."

Angeal dropped the stuffed animal and approached to face his friend. "Seph, I'm sorry. I'll talk to him, okay? I'll make him understand that this isn't appropriate and can't happen again. Okay? He didn't mean anything by it, he was just trying to be nice, and he doesn't think…"

Sephiroth said nothing.

"He's just a kid, and I'm sure he didn't realize this would bother you," the commander went on earnestly. "Don't make me have to get in between you and him. Please."

At last, Sephiroth nodded slowly, saying in a chilly voice, "I will forget this happened. You will control your puppy, Angeal."

"I will. Thank you."

As he hurried out, Angeal noticed Sephiroth approaching the toy as one would a soon-to-be-vanquished opponent. Thank Gaia the apartment and its contents had been fireproofed years earlier.

zszsz

Angeal walked into Zack's apartment unannounced, as Zack had a habit of doing into his own. Following his senses, which had always been strong when it came to Zack, he entered the bedroom, and saw the boy sitting on the bed, slumping in a dejected posture that was very unlike him. Angeal had resolved to scold and lecture and tried to hold on to his anger, but Zack looked up sadly, and it melted away. Damn those innocent and expressive eyes, he couldn't bear to see them hurt.

"He hates me, doesn't he?"

Sighing, Angeal went to Zack and tilted his chin up to make their eyes meet. "Of course he doesn't hate you. I don't know anyone who could hate you."

Normally Zack would smile at this, but now he was unmoved. "I'm really sorry. I'm in trouble, huh?"

"No," Angeal said heavily. "Just…why did you do this?"

"Well, remember when you showed me your stuffed Moogle?"

"I only told you about Mr. Squishy to make you feel more secure about…that thing." Angeal gestured to a battered plush toy that was propped up against the pillows.

Zack grabbed it and clutched it protectively, looking offended. "Hey, I am not embarrassed about Wuggles! He's been with me since I was born, you know."

Angeal observed the stuffed animal his student was so fond of. It had certainly seen better days. It appeared to be some sort of dog (how appropriate, he thought) with threadbare paws and a furry coat that had grown thin and worn from years of squeezing and petting. The stitches of thread that formed the creature's smile were loose and hanging off. The collar was long gone (leaving a ring of darker fur around the neck), as was one of the shiny black eyes.

"No wonder he looks so exhausted," Angeal mused. "Continue."

"Well…you remember, I asked you if Sephiroth ever had a favorite stuffed toy?"

Angeal nodded, understanding at last. "And I told you that as far as I know, he never had any. So you thought you'd remedy that, huh?"

"It just seemed so sad," Zack said softly. "I just wanted to help."

"I understand. But you should have discussed this with me first."

"So you could tell me it's a bad idea?"

"So I could tell you that you can't feel the loss of something you never knew." The commander sat down beside his student. "Sephiroth was perplexed by Mr. Squishy when he first saw him. Toys are one of those things that, brilliant as he is, he just doesn't understand. It's not something he feels he missed out on."

Zack's frown only became more pronounced at that. "So, he wasn't angry, then?"

"He was angry," Angeal admitted, "but only because what you did was very impertinent. You can't...treat Sephiroth the same as other people, Puppy. I know you'd like to and so would I, but the fact is he's not like anyone else. You can't do anything like this again. Seph is tough to read, sometimes even for me, but I think you embarrassed him."

"I did?" Zack's shoulders slumped again. "I won't do this again, I promise."

"I know you won't. Cheer up, it's all right."

"I should apologize to the general, right?"

"I've done that for you. He's agreed to forget about it, you should do the same." The boy didn't look any happier, Angeal noted. "How about a spar? That always makes you feel better."

"Okay!" Perked up at once, Zack looked at the toy he was still holding. "Can I borrow Mr. Squishy sometime?"

"What for?" Angeal asked, brow furrowed with confusion.

"To introduce him to Wuggles," the 3rd said in a 'duh' voice. "We're friends, so they should be friends."

"If you like," Angeal said slowly, giving his student an odd look.

"You hear that, Wuggles? You get to meet Mr. Squishy! I wonder if he'll give you a patronizing nickname or nag you to eat your vegetables..."

Rolling his eyes, repressing a smile, Angeal headed for the door. "Get your sword, Zack."

zszsz

Sephiroth regarded the stuffed Bandersnatch as one might a worthy but distrusted adversary. Even a horde of real Bandersnatches was no danger to him, so he shouldn't feel so uncomfortable in the presence of this harmless toy, but it seemed to represent something threatening, something he had no precedent for dealing with.

This is absurd, the general told himself. Just destroy the damn thing and forget about it. Fire was a bad idea, it always led to examinations and questions from Hojo that anyone else would only ask a mental patient. But he could shred it with Masamune, let the swift movement of his sword vent this frustration and calm him, as it always did...

And yet, something held him back. Sephiroth was not cruel in his heart, he did not kill unless it was necessary, and this creature held a stance that was playful, not aggressive. As a toy, it didn't think to be intimidated by the famous general or to beg for mercy. It couldn't imagine that it would offend anyone, it only sought to please, with its oddly bright eyes and eager smile.

This is absurd, Sephiroth thought again. But this ridiculous thing was from Fair, it was harmless as the boy was harmless. Fair must have touched it. Had he even hugged it, perhaps? Isn't that what the young did with such objects?

Though he knew he was alone, Sephiroth quickly glanced around the quiet apartment. Satisfied that no one could see him, he slowly reached for the Bandersnatch and lifted it up, letting it dangle from his hand like an unknown and possibly hazardous substance.

Its fur was very soft, and the body of it less firm than Sephiroth had expected. When he squeezed it experimentally, it molded to the shape of his hand, like a small pillow, only...squishier. That word was not one Sephiroth used, even mentally, but he could think of no other to properly describe it. Perhaps he was reminded of Angeal, of his stoic friend's inexplicable attachment to the battered stuffed Moogle he'd had since infancy. Angeal had tried to explain it, had offered to let him hold it to demonstrate, and Sephiroth had shaken his head, reminded once more of the gaping chasm between himself and everyone else. Here was another thing that belonged only to other people.

Two hands held the Bandersnatch now, turning it over to examine it, absently noting the way it felt almost pleasant against the skin. Sephiroth had no memory of toys...except a vague recollection of a kind-faced man waving something brightly-colored over his crib and laughing, before Hojo's shrill voice ordered him away. Sephiroth didn't like to remember this, didn't like to think of the kind man at all. After that, there had been the lights and sounds of the lab to entertain him, nurses who picked him up as soon as Hojo left the room, then tutors and books, then his sword. If this progression had been different, would he have been different? What possible difference could a lump of stuffing and synthetic fur have made? Sephiroth wasn't sure, but the question vaguely pained him.

Without thinking about it (thinking about it would have kept it from happening), Sephiroth brought the toy to his chest and awkwardly pressed it there. It flattened, spreading its warmth and softness, then relaxed into its previous shape as he loosened his grip. Nothing bad happened, and it was a pleasant enough sensation...but it was the thought of Fair having cuddled this thing that made him feel strange. Sort of tingly.

Static electricity, he decided, though he knew it wasn't and had always been somehow immune to such shocks anyway. It didn't seem right to destroy the toy now, and he couldn't throw it or give it away, his most zealous fans could find out about it. The only thing to do was keep it in a hidden place and forget about it, and luckily Sephiroth had one of those.

He went purposefully to the bedroom closet, stepped inside and carefully opened a loose panel in the far corner that was impossible to see unless you know exactly where to look. It revealed a secret compartment known only to him, where Sephiroth kept hidden all the things that were important to him for reasons he couldn't or didn't want to explain. There was a branch hung with dried apple leaves from Banora. A picture of a mansion that he had taken out of a book, feeling that the structure was very familiar and not knowing where from. A notebook page of doodles and scribbles in Dr. Gast's unsteady and preoccupied hand. Mostly it was photographs, mainly of Genesis and Angeal; and one of a young man with windblown brown hair and hazel eyes that looked amber in the light of the camera and the sun, smiling obliviously. Sephiroth quickly turned that one over and put it aside.

He placed the Bandersnatch in the compartment, settling it near a photo of Angeal and himself in Wutai. Now he could see and touch it anytime he wanted to. Not that he planned to do so, he reasoned. It would simply remain safe here while he figured out how best to dispose of it. Sephiroth reached out to close the compartment and found himself running his hand just one more time over the toy's mussed fur. Fair would have done this, at least, Sephiroth could picture it. Perhaps he should have sniffed it to see if Fair's scent lingered on the animal at all...but then he had no idea what Fair smelled like, and why was he thinking about such things?

Enough of this.

Sephiroth firmly pushed the panel shut, resolving to go kill something to distract himself. Instead he sat silently with his knees gathered to his chest, and stared at it for a long time.

As always, I love to hear what you think!