A/N: good dear gods. its been forever since i managed to update this. i'm sorry for that. the plotbunny just got out shouted by all the others running through my head and this got back burnered.

but here you have chapter nine. which has some dialogue and advances The Plot, but doesn't do much else. i don't really like it and its tons of filler, but its needed filler.

"Commander Leonheart asked if I thought you were ready to return to active duty this morning," Doctor Ambrose, the Garden's psychologist, said as Irvine took his chair across from her.

"What did you tell him?"

"That its been six weeks, and I don't see why you can't handle it. Obviously I can't clear you completely because of your recent injury, but from a psychological standpoint, the only thing keeping you from working would be yourself."

Irvine nodded. He'd been going crazy with boredom for the last two weeks. "Sounds good to me, then. Does that mean no more counseling appointments when I go back?"

"Well, I'd prefer to continue seeing you, Irvine. Even after six weeks, your depression still isn't lifting. I think there may be the beginning of a real problem here."

"A real problem." The sharpshooter repeated. "Like what? Being depressed because I keep waking up alone in a bed that I should be sharing? Insomnia because every time I go to sleep I see the consol exploding again or having her die in my arms? Being bummed because all my friends are too busy to spend time with me and get my mind off it all? How could that ever not have been a problem, doc?"

Ambrose was taken aback by the sudden anger in Irvine's tone. "That's not what I meant. I think that—"

"No." Irvine shook his head and stood. "I know you're doing your job, and you helped a lot, but I have to do the rest on my own. I need to be out there working and socializing, not seeing a therapist and taking drugs."

"Irvine…"

"No. Thanks for your help, but we're finished now." He stood back up and walked out of Doctor Ambrose's office feeling relieved. He hadn't liked going to grief counseling in the first place, but Garden regulations demanded a minimum of six weeks after a loss like his.

Feeling better than he had in several days, Irvine left the medical wing and headed for Squall's office. If his friend was asking the doctors after his health and not himself, then Squall probably had something planned for him. Getting out of the damn Garden sounded pretty good to Irvine right now.

He was whistling by the time he stepped off the elevator and into the secretary's office, surprised at how good finally having something to do was making him feel. Squall's secretary gave him a bright smile.

"Glad you're feeling better today, Mister Kinneas."

"Squall's fault," the cowboy replied with a grin. "Is he busy?"

"Let me see." The secretary pushed a button on her intercom. "Mister Kinneas wants to know if you're busy, Commander."

"Send him in," Squall replied through the speaker.

"Thanks, darlin'," Irvine replied walking to Squall's door.

He was a little surprised to see Dara Penbrook standing in front of the Commander's desk.

"That was good timing, Irvine," Squall said as he entered the office. "I was about to send someone down to Doctor Ambrose's office to pull you up here. I hope nothing's wrong."

"Nope." The cowboy shook his head, falling into "officer" mode. "We wrapped everything up early."

"Good." Squall leaned back in his chair and looked at both Irvine and Dara. "Since Doctor Kadowaki agrees with Doctor Ambrose's opinion and has also cleared you to return to active duty, I have an assignment for the two of you."

Irvine felt his good mood fall away instantly. "You think I'm ready for that already?"

Squall shook his head, already knowing what his friend meant. "Not a mission. Not when you can't cast yet. You're going to give each other special training."

"What?" Irvine had no idea what Squall was planning. Dara stayed silent.

"You're going to teach her to shoot and she's going to help you learn to cast again."

Irvine exchanged a look with Dara that said they thought Squall had gone crazy.

"Commander," Dara said hesitantly, "My specialty isn't in magic and my aptitude for firearms tested well below average."

"My aptitude for the gunblade was point zero one," the Commander replied. "Everyone said I had no business so much as looking at one, let alone learning to use one. Saying you have no aptitude is just another way of saying you don't want to learn."

"Yes, sir." The girl—which is what she still was, despite her rank—looked down at her feet for a moment, then back up at Squall. "But that doesn't explain why you want me to help Irvine learn to cast again. I don't know how to teach anyone how to do anything and I'm really not very good with magic. Instructor Trepe says that I'm better off sticking with long range attacks and guerilla tactics."

"On a first name basis already?" Squall gave the SeeDs in front of him a long look.

"Its not like that and you know it," Irvine hissed at him, more than a little hurt. "Dara's been spending a lot of time with me when I go to see Zell. Sometimes we hang out afterward."

"Then it won't seem unusual for her to have decided to help you relearn the skills you lost in the attack." The Commander let that statement hang in the air, and everything fell into place for the sharpshooter.

"We'll train in the forest, Squall. At least for the magic; wouldn't want anybody to accidentally get caught by a stray spell."

Dara's face was flushed with frustration and anger when she turned to the cowboy. "You can't just arbitrarily recruit me for this! I have as much right to question assignments I don't agree with as anyone else in this Garden!"

"Let it go, darlin'. It's a petty thing to argue about, and the Commander has his reasons." Irvine put a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Besides, Quisty may have the patience to help me, but she doesn't have the time."

"You accept your assignment then, SeeD Kinneas?" Squall asked.

"Yeah."

"And you, SeeD Penbrook?"

She shot Irvine a dark look; he'd be doing a lot of explaining later. "I accept, Commander."

The Commander looked relieved. "Thank you."

-------

"You want to tell me what that was all about in there?" Dara asked him as the elevator started moving down.

"Not yet," Irvine replied. "I'm not sure its safe to say yet."

"But you'll tell me when it is?"

"Yes."

She was silent for a moment. "I think I'm scared, Irvine. And I don't know why."

"I'm scared too, darlin'. And I do know why." But what does Squall know that I don't. we've got sixty SeeDs trained as marksmen; why Dara right now?

"And then he invites us over for dinner?"

"Its his way of saying he trusts you. Squall doesn't do that with just anybody."

"The commander is a very private person."

Irvine laughed. "Private is one way to put it. Doc Ambrose would probably say he has abandonment issues."

"Does he?" Dara seemed genuinely interested, as if she wanted the knowledge so she could finally know something, even if it was trivial.

"Some. But its not my place to tell you why. If Squall wants you to know, he'll tell you." The elevator stopped at the first floor and they stepped out. "Be happy that he's letting you inside at all."

"I'll try."