Sorry for disappearing for a while. Professors piled on the work, then I got caught up in an idea for a long chaptered fic that just wouldn't let me go . . . Speaking of long chaptered fics, would anyone be interested in betaing a Final Fantasy VI/King Arthur crossover???

As always, a huge thank you to Wyl, my most helpful reviewer.

I do not own Suikoden Tierkreis or its characters, if I did there would most definitely be a sequel in the works, one where we learn some more about the characters. I also do not make any money from this story, if you have paid for it you have been had.

And now I present to you the final (I mean it this time) chapter.

&*&*&

Minen almost cursed when she heard the thumping of boots on the stone steps leading up to the roof. She had hoped to be left alone for the rest of the night. Although she guessed she was lucky that it was the noise of only a single pair of boots, she had no desire to be around whilst a pair of company members sought out some "private time" away from the party.

The thumping paused, from the sound of it right at the top of the stairwell. I have no need to worry, she thought, it's impossible to see me from anywhere on that side of the roof. But against all odds, when the noise of boot soles on stone started up again it was headed right towards her. She set her chin down on arms folded over drawn up knees, still hoping that whoever it was would just turn back around.

It was only thanks to her years of training that she did not show any outward reaction to the familiar voice behind her.

"Minen?" Buchse said softly. He was leaning over the wall separating the lower west end of the roof from the main platform, peering down at his long time friend. And he did not like what he saw. She was curled up as small as she could get without being in a fetal position, sitting the corner where the short set of stairs met the wall. Only once had he seen her looking this . . . vulnerable. That had been years ago, when she was a relatively new member of the Belfar Agency and had lost her first partner in a routine mission gone horribly wrong. But why was she looking like this now?

She tilted her head back and met his gaze, acknowledging that she heard him. They stayed like that for a while, him looking down at her, her looking up at him, neither really wanting to speak nor knowing the words to use if they did.

Finally Buchse broke the silence, ". . . May I sit?"

Still not trusting herself to talk, Minen simply nodded, then set her chin on her arms again. Rather than take the stairs, Buchse chose a more direct route down, swinging his legs over the wall and dropping down next to her with a light thud. The silent marksman lowered himself to the stones and sat down cross-legged about an arm's length away.

The silence between the two sharpshooters was laced with tension and discomfort, something neither of them were used to. Their silences had always been comfortable, with both of them not being huge fans of unnecessary conversation they had never needed words to feel at ease around each other. It also helped that after six years as partners in the Belfar Agency, they could read each other's body language as easily as speaking. But tonight that advantage was gone. All Buchse could gather from Minen was that something was wrong. And she couldn't even discern that much about him, he was giving off too many mixed and unknown signals.

"I can't find the Hunter," she tipped her head up, indicating the star-strewn night sky, desperate to say anything that would get rid of this blasted silence! "The stars are all in different places this side of the sea."

Buchse tilted his head up to look at the sky as well, grateful to have something besides the . . . stunning . . . woman next to him to concentrate on. It took him a few moments of scanning the expanse of shining pinpoints to locate the errant constellation.

"There," he said simply, pointing to a cluster of stars in the eastern part of the sky.

Of course he would find it. He was the best sharpshooter in the Belfar Agency, probably in all of Ritterschild, for a reason. Not that she had actually been looking for those particular stars, it had just been the first constellation that came to mind.

"Moon's bright tonight," she said, again just something to stop that uncomfortable silence from taking over, "It's almost like daylight up here." He nodded, still keeping his eye fixed on the stars above.

Silence. Again that thick, unbearable silence. Buchse found himself wishing desperately for one of his guns, just so that he could keep his hands occupied. He unconsciously fiddled with the gilded buttons of his overcoat, mulling over possible things to say . . . but he just couldn't seem to find the right words!

This was why he liked shooting so much; every step was simple and neatly ordered, and if you followed those steps perfectly you were guaranteed to hit the middle. It was simple. Things like this didn't come with neatly ordered steps or guarantees. How the heck was he supposed to tell her how he felt? Was he even supposed to tell her how he felt? The last thing he wanted was to lose her friendship, would that happen if he told her? If it did . . . he would make sure Tsaubern's death was long and slow. And painful. Very, very painful. No mercy shots.

While his thoughts had turned to Tsaubern, Buchse's hands tightened mechanically into fists. Mistaking this as a sign of frustration or anger towards the situation in general, Minen hung her head and muttered something into her folded arms.

"What?" Buchse asked, not having caught the mumbled words.

Minen lifted her head from her arms, but did not dare turn to face him. She couldn't let him see whatever crazy emotion her face would betray.

"I'm sorry."

It was one of the few times that Buchse could recall that he did not voluntarily lapse into silence: he was shocked into it. He turned his body so that he was facing Minen and just stared. And saw. He saw not only the stunning woman in the red dress, but also the person who had been his best friend for years, the one whose eyes flashed in fierce joy with every report of her pistols in a firefight, the one he had trained with, fought with, bled with, killed with. He saw Minen. And suddenly everything he had been feeling that night multiplied, the feelings merging together, coming to a center as a tight, powerful, sensation in his chest.

"What for?" he asked.

Minen almost twisted her head to stare at him incredulously, but managed to stop herself at the last second. "For putting you in a most uncomfortable position tonight," she replied after a moment of thought, "There was no need for the ruse to go that far." She let out a harsh, humorless laugh.

Ruse . . . it was all supposed to be a ruse. But Buchse knew that what he had been feeling all night had been no ruse. It was painfully real.

"I . . . you . . . the," he faltered for words. This time Minen really did look at him, Buchse may not have been one for talking, but whenever he chose to do so it was done with confidence and no stuttering. Focusing on the steady pounding of his heart, Buchse took a deep breath and spoke the only thing he could- the truth.

"Tonight . . . the times I was uncomfortable were not your fault."

Minen's eyes clouded in confusion. Confusion that quickly cleared. She snorted and looked away. "The whole mess was Tsaubern's doing, but I'm the one who took things too far," she said sardonically.

"That's not what I meant," he said in a soft growl. Reaching out, he gently cupped his hand under Minen's chin and turned her head in his direction. "That's not what I meant . . ."

"Then what did you mean," she countered, reaching up to grab his arm and pull his hand away from her face. Still feeling like he needed to hold on to her somehow, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist in return. To his relief, Minen didn't seem to mind, because she was neither pulling away nor releasing her own grip.

What are you doing Buchse? Minen thought as she felt his callused hand take hold of her wrist. Normally she considered herself to be an expert at reading her silent partner, but tonight she was finding it impossible! His body language said he was nervous, his voice was confused one moment insistent the next, the physical contact could be considered either a show of confidence or a need for support . . . it was ridiculous!

"I . . ." Buchse began, lowering his head as if in shame, "I don't know . . . what I'm trying to say is . . . once I got used to seeing you . . . like that . . . the times I was with you were the only times I was not uncomfortable."

Minen cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. "Seeing me 'like that'?" Her partner quickly turned to look in the opposite direction, but not even his quick actions completely hid the light rush of blood on his face and neck that the moonlight so nicely illuminated.

"In that dress," he muttered. In spite of the awkwardness of the situation Minen almost laughed; only Buchse would be this embarrassed at seeing a women with clothing rather than without it. Being old style, the dress itself wasn't even very revealing. Certainly less so than her normal apparel, which eliminated any excess fabric in favor of maneuverability. Come to think of it . . . there was nothing that Buchse should be embarrassed about at all. So why . . .

"I'm a bit confused," Minen admitted.

You're not the only one, Buchse thought.

"It didn't look like you," he said, trying to make sense of his own thoughts as he did so, "when you walked out of the room . . . I couldn't even think. I was," he took a moment to search for the right word. And could not for the life of him think of anything that described what he had felt! Damnit he hated this!

Strong thin fingers tightened just slightly around his wrist. He looked back (praying to any gods who were listening that his face had returned to its proper color) to his partner who was staring at him with eyes full of confusion and . . . something. Something he didn't think he had ever seen before, and could not figure out what it was!

"You do know you can talk it out to me, Buchse," Minen spoke softly; "we've been partners for six years. Blast it; you're a better friend than I'm likely to find anywhere else in this world or any other! And if you don't start giving me some more concrete information I don't think either of us is going to figure out what the bloody hell is going on tonight."

He wanted to tell her everything. About his churning stomach and pounding heart. How just looking at her had giving him some feeling he couldn't name, something out of control that left him totally defenseless. That he hadn't liked the feeling, had hated the feeling. But that feeling was what pushed away the twisted emotions Tsaubern had made surface. Tell her how some time during their dance he had stopped hating the feeling, even going so far as to think it . . . rather nice. He wanted to explain to her that she had somehow found her way into his heart and soul. The heart and soul he had thought blocked off from the world, simply by the nature of who he was. How she was his friend, yes, like Geschutz was his friend. But she was more than that; she was a part of him in a way that went inexplicably deeper than friendship.

But he had never been comfortable with words. It wasn't his way. Wasn't their way. Minen was right though, if he did not give her solid information neither of them would be able to figure out this issue. So he gave her the most concrete truth he could think of, one that seemed to sum up the entirety of the night's emotional challenge.

"When you kissed me," Minen's body tensed at the mention of her blunder, "I didn't want you to leave."

Her draw dropped in a most un-ladylike fashion at her partner's simple statement. With those few words, he had conveyed all the information Minen needed to figure out "what the bloody hell is going on tonight." That damnable attraction she was feeling . . . it was . . . mutual? Damn it all! Who were they and what had they done to the unflappable former Belfar Agents? She snapped her mouth shut and reacted in the only way she could think of, given the unfamiliarity of the situation.

"Then why in all hell didn't you kiss me back?!" she snapped, realizing the moment that they left her lips how much she sounded like a petty teenager. Damn these feelings, damn Buchse for causing these feelings, damn her for not being able to control these feelings, and DAMN Tsaubern for being the reason behind this whole mess!

But surprisingly Buchse seemed to think it a valid question and did not shirk from answering. "I was . . . shocked, to put it lightly," he glanced at her nervously, "I did not expect you to do that . . . nor did I expect to enjoy it so much."

Another drawn out silence ensued. And again, it was Buchse who broke it. He moved closer to Minen and whispered, "If you are not adverse to the idea . . . I would like to make amends."

His grey eyes searched hers for any kind of reaction. For some kind of signal that would tell him that he had gone too far. But he found nothing of the sort.

It seemed that tonight there was a loose connection between her mouth and her brain, because without even thinking Minen found herself whispering in return, "I think I'd like that."

Leaning forward, Buchse quickly closed the distance between them before he could give himself time to think about what he was doing, before he could analyze the situation and figure out what a bad idea this was. She was a noblewoman and he was her family's captain of the guard. It wasn't right, it wasn't proper, and gods damn it all, as soon as his lips met hers he didn't care anymore!

Like the silence, it was awkward at first, but unlike the silence that awkwardness soon faded away as both of them leaned into each other, allowing the veritable tsunami of formerly unknown feelings to wash over them. Buchse felt Minen's arms snake around his neck as he wrapped his own around her shoulders, drawing her deeper into the kiss as he did so.

Even when the need for air finally forced their lips to break apart, neither one pulled away from the embrace. Breathing heavily, their faces only inches apart, they looked into each other's eyes. And finally understood exactly what had gone on that night.

"Seem strange," Minen said, never once taking her eyes off of her partner's.

"Hmm?"

Laughing softly, Minen maneuvered herself so that she and Buchse were sitting side by side against the low wall before answering. "Us," she replied, "This. You wouldn't think fate would allow it."

"Because of the Belfar Agency? Who we became for them?"

"That's it exactly. Killers, the two of us. I've enjoyed it, and I know you have too."

"It always feels good to hit a target, living or not," Buchse agreed. After putting an arm around his friend and pulling her so she was tight against his side (ever watchful for signs that this was not what she wanted) he added, "It is a good thing that there is no such thing as fate."

She smirked up at him, "You think?"

He lowered his head and briefly pressed his lips to hers before whispering, "I know."

&*&*&

And so it is done. My first completed multi-chap. Sorry if it feels like I left stuff out in the ending . . . This story was basically meant to be about Buchse and Minen realizing they had feelings for one another, nothing more. It was also meant to leave me room to write a sequel at some point in time. I actually have an idea for it, as well as an idea for a story taking place in the Belfar Agency. Once I finish with Of Sketchpads and Shadows or Shadow Knight I'll most likely start on the other Buchse/Minen ideas.

Well, thank you for sticking with me this long. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy reading and happy writing to you all!