The hospital wing was eerily silent as the pressed, white-uniformed nurse made her late-night rounds. Silently striding through the halls, she finally made it to room 201. Adjusting the stethoscope around her neck, she reached for the patient's file in the wall receptacle next to the door. Peeking inside, she saw that the little patient inside was fast asleep, and heard the slight beeps and whirs of machines. She quietly closed the door and continued down the hall, to the nurses' station.

The nurse placed the file next to a pile of completed reports, and tossed her starched cap on top of it. She went into the back room and poured a steaming cup of coffee from the machine. Cream and sugar swirled in, and were blended in with a swizzle stick. Coffee: the late-shift nurse's best friend. She reached into a shoulder bag under the counter and unearthed a glasses case. She removed the wire-rimmed glasses and placed them upon her dainty nose.

She returned to the desk and opened the file she just retrieved. Subconsciously tucking a stray tuft of golden hair behind her ear, she signed her name at the bottom of the report:

Quistis Trepe, RN.

She fumbled slightly while writing the title 'RN'. It still felt foreign to see her name with those two letters following; she was no longer an Instructor at Balamb Garden. The new Quistis is a nurse at the newly-built Deling City hospital.

She shook her head and continued transcribing the report.

Lily Tempest, aged 6. Kidney failure; has approximately 5 months to live. Is in desperate need of a donor. Vital stats stable…

Quistis paused and rubbed her bleary eyes. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was 3:30 am. Almost time to punch out. I better hurry out of here…

A robust, red-haired woman peeked around the corner. The bland, white nurses' uniform served to contrast sharply against her cheery, matronly face. Despite the early hours, she seemed to have no bounds to her energy. "You still here, Quisty? It's almost time for you to skeedaddle on outta here!"

Quistis replied, "Hi, Daisy. I've only got this one report left to do, and I'll be done." She looked down and continued writing. Daisy promptly walked to Quistis' seat and ripped the pen from her hand.

"Why do you have to work so hard, Quisty? Take it easy some time—go to one o' them dance clubs or karaoke lounges… All work and no play makes Quisty a dull, dull girl. Now grab your things and get out," she said with a smile. "I'll finish this report for ya. Go on, outta here!" She chuckled as Quistis scampered from the desk into the back room. She came back out with a black overcoat on, clutching her shoulder bag. As she left, she called behind her, "Bye, Daisy! Oh, and I wouldn't think of going clubbing without you!"

Daisy cheerily said, "Bye, dear!" When Quistis disappeared around the corner, she shook her head and muttered to herself. "We need to get her a man."

»~~*~~«

Quistis waited outside the hospital for the bus. She pulled her coat tightly around her to shield her weary frame from the frigid gusts of air; this was a cold, cold night. "Come on, I wanna go home…" she whispered into the wind, hoping the bus would respond to her plea. White wisps of air swirled around her nose and mouth as she exhaled.

But the white wisps stopped as she sucked her air in and held her breath. Someone just pressed something cold against the back of her head.

A burly man's voice slurred behind her, "Don't scream. Don't say a word. Hand over your purse, lady."

I'll do a lot more than that… she thought.

She threw herself onto the ground and started wheezing. When the man moved the gun slightly to look at her, she threw her leg out and it connected with his ankles. Just as she suspected, the man's inebriated form crashed to the hard pavement with a thud. She swiftly stood, and without breaking a sweat, kicked him between the legs, and kicked the gun away from his hand. "Good night," she taunted.

There's one good thing about being a SeeD… Make that former SeeD…

Hearing the loud squeal of brakes, she saw the bus had arrived. But someone else had appeared at the bus stop. The doors opened and welcomed her them into the warm bus. He entered before her, and she slipped the 15 gil fare into the slot.

She looked up in time to see the man sit in her usual favorite spot, just behind the driver. As she walked past him, she noticed that he reeked of cigarette smoke and booze. Yet he showed no signs of being the least bit drunk. He's probably the bartender of the bar that guy just came from… He also appeared to be about her age, 22 or so.

She sat across from him, rubbed her bleary eyes, and politely covered her mouth as a yawn came. The late-night hours and fighting took their toll on her; she was having trouble keeping awake on the warm bus. She blinked twice, and studied the man across from her. His gaze seemed to be fixed on a piece of ancient gum, eternally stuck to the middle of the bus floor.

He wore a black trenchcoat, and had pulled the collar up, as if to partially mask his face. Yet, it didn't hide his head of raven black hair. Though it was strange; when the dim bus light glinted off his hair, it seemed to have a golden tinge to it. He had intense emerald-green eyes, and they seemed troubled.

The man was powerfully built, and looked as if he could boot a rowdy customer out of a bar with no difficulty at all. He wore black gloves, and they served to cradle his head at the moment. He looked as if he had a hard night as well.

A faint crease wove across his face. It looked almost as if it were once a scar, but healed over time. Just like—

"It's rude to stare, ya know," the man said, in a rich baritone. His gaze was focused on her.

Since his comment interrupted her trail of thought, she was caught off-guard. "Oh, I'm quite sorry," she stuttered. "I…I'm quite tired, is all." Those mannerisms… He's just like…it can't be…

"You didn't look it, back at the bus stop," he commented. "You'd think you were trained in combat or somethin'." He had a slight drawl, reminiscent of Irvine Kinneas' voice. Quistis blushed slightly. "Oh well… that was just…" she was interrupted with a jaw-splitting yawn. "Excuse me."

"Well, that was some self-defense," he said.

"Um, thanks" she replied, stifling another yawn. "Quistis" she said, extending a hand. His black-leather gloved hand met hers, and he nodded.

The bus creaked to a stop, and the man quickly exited the bus. How rude, he didn't even introduce himself…

She looked out the bus window at the man, who was looking straight back at her. As the bus pulled away, she saw his face, now fully exposed. He watched her ride away, and gave her a smirk.

That smirk.

Quistis gasped and stood abruptly. "Seifer!" she mouthed to the man. Her eyes narrowed as she saw his figure jounce with laughter. Their gaze met; shocked eyes clashed with taunting eyes.

Seifer Almasy, of all people to run into at 4 am… How wonderfully ironic, we both escaped from our former lives, only to come to the very same place.

»~~*~~«

A/N: So, tell me what you think! I've got lots in store for y'all, this is only the beginning. ^_~