Climbing Through Windows

When one door closes, a window opens.

Chapter 1

Seifer remembered when days-off meant sleeping-in. Back then, spending the night in po-dunk dives was a guaranteed good time and the next afternoon there were no questions asked.. Long term attachments were a headache not worth the pay-off. That's what he'd thought at 18, anyway. By 21, days-off were spent sleeping- in with his wife, enjoying the steady companionship and love. Too bad it had been stable as quicksand. Marita was a small town beauty looking for the rich life and when she figured out Seifer's taste for power had died with Ultimecia, she went her own way. She'd left the children in their beds and a note on the table and flagged the next train to civilization. That was the day Seifer learned there were worse things than losing his pride.

Now-a-days, having the day-off meant cleaning the house and reminding himself he really did love the little monsters attached to his wallet.

He sighed and rolled up another bag of Cheetos and tossed them on the table with the other junk food. Seifer was seriously going to have to talk to Rory about his eating habits. His son was starting to get thick around the middle and Seifer refused to be the father with a fat nine-year-old. He had an image to uphold and all. Granted, 'Lucky Ricky's only server without a push-up bra' wasn't an impressive image, but he hadn't lost his vanity with his wife. Looking good was one of the few things he'd held onto over the years. Besides, Alice loved sports. It was a disgrace to have his daughter out-manning her little brother.

"DAD!"

Speak of the devil, Seifer thought as Alice crashed through the front door, "Where are my pistols!"

Seifer froze, leaning on the sofa. "Why," He asked carefully. One thing he'd learned early on as a father was that, while most of the world moved on and forgot about Ultimecia's burly sidekick, there was always a crazy uncle, or lover, or third cousin twice-removed that couldn't stand the idea of him having a family. Alice had been taken twice before Seifer took it upon himself to never leave her helpless. For him, weekly trips to shoot tin cans off stumps became a solid reminder of the dangers that still hovered over his life. What he hadn't expected was how much Alice liked guns.

"Johnny Strombeck totally stuck gum in Hannah's hair and shoved her in this huge mudhole, so I want to take out his kneecaps!" She yelled, digging through the closet where, yes, Seifer could see the lockbox where the gun was kept. "Oh, and do we have any of that mushroom shot?"

"You are not maiming a boy over a piece of gum," Seifer said crossly, pulling her out of the closet as it closed.

Alice wriggled out of his grip, "Come on! You don't understand, he stuck it in this high!" She pointed near the crown of her head. "Hannah's gonna have to shave her head! She'll look like a boy for like, years!"

"I've looked like a boy all my life. It's not that bad. I've enjoyed it, actually," he goaded, pushing her into the kitchen. "Now, wash your hands, have a sandwich, and go make Johnny cry the old fashioned way. He's just old enough a kick in the jewels will stick with him."

"You're such a chickenwuss, Dad," Alice sniffed, watching the closet longingly.

Seifer rolled his eyes and ruffled her blond curls before shoving her towards the fridge, "Leave the turkey for your brother. You know he won't eat anything else."

She grumbled and began tossing lunch meat on the counter while Seifer loaded the ancient dishwasher. It was on it's last legs and it was anyone guess whether the dishes were actually clean or layered with salmonella. No one was dead, yet, though, so it was doing well enough.

"I don't get why I can't just shoot him a little bit," Alice grumbled, slapping bread on the counter.

Seifer replied, "Violence is never the answer."

"Bullshit," She muttered, and Seifer had to agree. Still, there were reasons why parents as a whole lived off rote platitudes. it didn't matter if he understood how to live a peaceful, generous life; just as long as he could make his children. Hitting was bad, always say thank you, and cussing was kept to stubbed toes and road-rage. Somehow, his kids weren't getting the message.

"Whatever, Goldilocks," he drawled. "No guns, no rocks, and if he looses any fingers, I'll know who to blame."

Alice bit into her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. Then she asked, "What about maulings?"

"I didn't hear that."

The phone rang. Seifer wiped his hands off on his jeans and kicked the washer shut, stretching over his daughter to answer. "Yo, Almasy."

"Hello, Seifer."

He scowled. Days off also seemed to attract his ex-wife in the worst of ways. "Marty, what do you want?" It broke his heart to watch Alice perk at the mention of her mother. She still believed Marita gave a damn. Both of his kids were stupid that way, but Seifer wasn't itching to teach them that lesson any time soon.

"Why are you incapable of holding a civil conversation?" She asked sharply, and he could clearly imagine her inspecting her freshly painted nails. "I just called to say hello, ask how everything's going and you're rude without so much as a 'hello'! Your life would be so much easier if you just learned to be polite."

"Fuck-off, Marty. My life is none of your business." He growled, "Besides, conversation's dead, sweetheart. Didn't you hear?"

"Of course it's my business. You're raising my children. I have every right to be concerned about their welfare."

"Why don't you think about that a moment, will ya? I'm raising them. If you gave a shit, you might show up more than once in a fucking blue moon."

"I have a life, Seifer, with real responsibilities. I can't come running every time you want a beer break."

"Oh, that's right. You've got your life. The one with your rich husband, big house, and full-time nanny. How's Margo doing in her private pre-school? Learning four languages, isn't she?" He sneered, "I'm sure you're sorry to hear about Rory and Alice's school losing half it's government funding, but that's alright. They didn't need that library, anyway."

Alice stomped out of the kitchen and Seifer cursed himself for forgetting she was there. Alice was particularly sensitive about her half-sister. In her mind, Rory was still special because he was their mother's only boy. Alice was just the spare now that Marita had Margo; the perfect princess for her perfect family. Seifer couldn't blame Alice for feeling cast aside. He felt it everyday.

"Now you're being petty." She sniffed, "You've always been jealous I found something better than you."

"Really? You don't say," He said sarcastically, "Hyne, I can't imagine why I'd have a problem with that. It's not like you abandoned us or anything."

Marita scoffed, "'Us'. Right. You always use the children as a cover. "

"And you have this crazy idea I give a shit."

"Ya know what? I don't have to take this," Marita responded sharply. "I was just calling to tell you I'll be there this weekend. Make sure they're ready this time, I don't feel like seeing my son in his pajamas and my daughter covered in dirt."

"Yeah, you'd hate for them to be themselves or anything."

She hung up.

"Fucking stuck-up bitch." Seifer cussed at the phone, slamming it back in the cradle. He leaned on the counter and closed his eyes, trying to figure out how to tell his children.

"She's not really going to show up this time, is she?"

Seifer sat up, peering over his shoulder. Rory stood in the doorway, his giant book on airplanes clutched to his chest. Seifer was always struck by how small his son was when he ran around in Seifer's old tee-shirts. "Hey, Champ," Seifer greeted with a wane smile. "Of course she's coming. Would your mother lie?"

"Yes," Rory said flatly, looking at the floor.

Seifer ran a hand through his hair and spared a moment of extra hate for his ex-wife. "Why don't you get a sandwich. Gotta feed you something other than Cheetos or you'll turn orange."

Rory didn't move, "Why doesn't she like us?"

"Hey, no. Don't think that," Seifer soothed, crossing the kitchen and pulling his son close. "She likes you just fine. She just gets distracted, that's all."

"Yeah, by her better family."

"Fuck that!" Seifer barked, "That loser and his little bastard can't beat us in a million year. I took over the world, remember?"

Rory looked up, "Really?"

"Hell yeah!" Seifer grinned, noting his son's interest. Rory was hard to distract, but once he got going he rarely remembered what he was talking about.

"Did you have a space ship?" Rory asked, excitedly flipping through the pages of his aviation encyclopedia, "Cause, there's totally this spaceship that looks like a dragon. Did you own one like that, Dad? One like a DRAGON?"

Seifer winced, clearly remembering Leonhart's personal war chariot. "I had a flying city," He said, hedging away from the Ragnarok. It was childish, but he didn't want his son thinking Squall was cooler than him.

"Did it have laser guns?"

Seifer smiled smugly, "Yeah. It totally had laser guns."

-

He awoke to the metallic clang of his alarm clock. It was older than he was and Seifer had a lurking suspicion it first rang at the dawn of time. But, it cost three gil at a garage sale and survived more than one trip into the far wall, so he kept it around. Ugly and sturdy seemed to be the norm these days. His house was small and needed more fixing than not, but it stood and the wiring was solid most of the time. His car was running on TLC and hope, his clothes made for working, and the little tv in the living room was ancient enough to have seen Esthar before the first Sorceress War. Still, ugly or not, he had all those things and it was enough to make a living and feed the growing cretins that lived in the basement.

Seifer hauled himself out of bed and stumbled into the tiny shower for a lukewarm wake-up and planned out his day. First thing to do was waking the monsters before noon. It was common knowledge they'd sleep till sundown if he let them and, for reasons he couldn't understand, Seifer actually wanted to see his spawn before he headed off to work. He needed a haircut soon, but it could probably wait another week or so and Alice's tennis shoes needed replacing first; they were held together by duct tape. She'd been eying the fancy name brand ones in the department store and, boy, was that not a conversation he wanted to have. Economics meant little when you were twelve.

Seifer rinsed his hair and took a moment to organize his thoughts.

Rory was still eating nothing but junk food and, while Seifer appreciated the Lonely Man's Diet, it was meant for bachelor pads, not growing nine-year-olds. So, a morning run. It would be good for him. Besides, his kids always had more energy than he did, maybe this would even the playing field for a couple hours. As he pulled some jeans out of the dresser, he tallied his final to do list. Wake monsters, exercise monsters, feed monsters, clothe monsters, face public shopping centers with monsters, bring monsters home, then head to work. A tally made him smile. If all things went well, he should be back home with hours to spare.

Seifer should have known better.

Three screaming matches before bedroom doors were open, a wheezy Rory flopped on the sofa after fifteen minutes of running, and Alice running around in shorts entirely too short, meant Seifer's day was off to a rough start and it was getting worse with every breath. "I don't care if they're your favorites or if you wore them last week! This is now and you're going to find a pair of pants."

"You are so unfair!" Alice yelled, "Hannah's allowed to wear shorts! Heck, everyone's allowed to wear shorts! RORY'S wearing shorts!"

"You're allowed to wear shorts!" Seifer responded, "Just not those shorts!"

"Why not!"

"Because I can see your underwear!" Seifer roared indignantly.

Alice's eyes went wide as she peered behind her. Then she huffed crossly, "You can not."

Seifer smirked, "Lovely pink hearts you're wearing today, aren't they."

Alice paled and disappeared down the stairs. Thank Hyne she wasn't old enough to argue flashing her panties was the point. Seifer would never be ready for those days. Heck, he already had a back up plan. He'd send her to a convent and tell them she was possessed. Hopefully they'd take his word for it and keep her covered head to toe for the rest of eternity.

"Champ, how're you doing?" Seifer asked, leaning over the sofa where Rory laid splayed.

"Can't... breath..."

"That would be the pillow your smothering yourself with."

"Is... Not... Cruel... and... something something.... meanness. There are laws against that.... Mrs. Marner said so." Rory hadn't moved his head from the cushions and Seifer was sick of having a conversation with the back of his head. He poked Rory hard in the side and smirked when his son flailed and fell off the sofa.

"Daaad!" He whine, prostrated on the floor.

"Get up," He urged, "I'm making breakfast."

"But I'm dying!"

"You're awful chatty for a dead man. Besides, a little exercise never hurt anyone."

Rory sat up sharply, "Not true! Nino Filidro's older brother broke his collarbone when he fell off a cliff. He was hiking, and there was a monster, and then he fell, and it was like, BLOOD EVERYWHERE."

Seifer snorted, reminded of his own youth. He wouldn't have fallen off a cliff because of a shitty little monster. "Yeah, well, you weren't near any cliffs today, so that's a no-go. Try again."

"Tina broke her ankle running."

"Builds character."

"Hukt ruined his rotary cuff playing baseball."

"I know better than to taunt your hand-eye coordination."

"Igo lost his front teeth playing Foosball."

"Foosball is not a sport," Seifer paused, setting a pan on the stove thoughtfully. "Foosball?" he asked incredulously, "for real?"

Rory climbed on the sofa and rested his head on his arms solemnly as he watched his father. "No blueberries, remember? They turn your poop funny colors."

"They do not," Seifer argued. "And they're healthy for you."

"Yeah," His son muttered, rubbing a hand through his dark hair. "Like running."

Seifer rolled his eyes, "Exactly."

He just didn't get his son. Alice was straightforward; for all that she was a girl. She wanted to be top dog through and through. The biggest, the strongest, the fastest, the best, and that was something Seifer understood. Rory didn't. Or, well, he did, but not in any way that Seifer could wrap his mind around. Rory was small, smaller than Alice had been at that age, and for all his big mouth, if the shit hit the fan and fist came flying he ran like a little girl. Sometimes Seifer wondered if his kids were born in the wrong bodies. Then again, Alice's love for all things unicorn was a hard hobby to argue as masculine. Rory was smart, too. Seifer never remembered being able to rattle off airplane specs like sports stats when he was nine. He remembered how to overhaul an engine because he'd spent more than one afternoon up to his elbows in his shitty sedan hoping it would run just one more day. Somehow, though, Seifer'd managed to get a kid who not only peered over his shoulder and corrected him as he did repairs, but preferred math problems to sports. His son was a fricken nerd. How was he supposed to deal with that?

"Ok, I checked in the mirror this time. You can't see my underwear now." Alice sauntered into the kitchen with, yes, longer shorts, but Seifer was still not comfortable with his pre-teen daughter flashing that much leg. Those teenage boys were total horndogs; he remembered.

"How about no."

"WHAT?" Alice yelled, throwing her arms in the air. "You can't be serious, Dad! This is the only other pair that fits."

"'Fits' as applied loosely, I believe." Seifer responded automatically while his mind spun. Well, shit. Shoe shopping just got way more expensive. If all her shorts were too small, that meant her jeans were definitely too small. He chided himself for not noticing sooner.

Then, he had the nastiest shock of his parenting life.

Alice's chest was... moving. Jiggling even. Every time she moved. If he was noticing, every boy this side of town had been watching for weeks and that... that was bad. Seifer turned back to the stove frantically, turning dials and fumbling pots, trying to keep himself calm while processing the fact his little girl was growing up. It wasn't ok! Sure, getting taller, that was cute. Growing - Growing girly things? Not cute! Not cute at all!

Seifer squeezed his eyes shut and thought hard. Just because he refused to believe it didn't mean it wasn't happening. So, when girls start...growing, what do they need? Bras. Bras stop the jiggle. Sports bras even flatten things out and, hey, what could a father want more than to hide the fact his child was getting sexy. No, no no no, not sexy, never, not ever, and -

"Uh, dad?" Alice cut in.

Seifer jumped and spun, "WHAT? WHAT WHAT WHAT?"

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, "You're burning the pancakes."

"Shit!"

-

"Dad, what's this?"

Seifer sighed and tried to keep an eye on his eldest while herding his son along after. Currently, he was inspecting a wicked pair of garters and Seifer was not going to start 'The Talk' with an intro to S&M. "It's for old ladies," He hedged.

Rory looked at him dubiously, "Really? The lady on the tag wasn't old."

"Advertisement lies."

Alice was wandering through the underwear at a lackadaisical pace, but Seifer wasn't prepared to start his day with bras and matching panties. Jeans, he thought, they were a safe piece of clothing. Particularly the ones that had a waistband at the armpits and sagged in the butt. He'd seen a cashier wearing a pair when they walked in, maybe if he asked nicely she'd tell him where she bought them. Gal-Mart, land of the cheap and tasteless.

"Hurry it up, twinkletoes!" Seifer hollered at Alice when she stood too long in front of a leopard print display. "I want your knees covered by the time we leave here."

He got a scalding glare in return, but she moved along. She was hitting the age where people insisted if she didn't kill him in his sleep, he was doing fine. Seifer was worried about the jest. Alice knew the gun lock combination and she'd inherited one nasty temper. He would know.

"Whoa, Dad, check it out!" Rory pointed at a naked model, "Her boobies are all pointy!" Seifer covered his son's eyes and pressed through the store faster. Suddenly, lace was replaced by glitter and bows and Seifer, smothering his natural revulsion, knew they'd reached they're target.

The Girl's Section.

Alice stormed over, "Nothing's my size."

Seifer rolled his eyes and sighed, letting got of a struggling Rory, "What do you mean nothing's your size."

"Nothing's my size!" She insisted, waving her arms wide, "It's all too small."

"Bullshit!" He snapped, much to the ire of a mother across the section. Seifer scowled at her as he said, "You're a girl. This is the Girl's Section. Therefore, this is your section."

"But it doesn't fit!" Alice yelled.

"How do you know! Have you tried anything?" Seifer grabbed the nearest set of shorts off the rack and tossed them to here. "There, have a go!"

"DAD!" She threw it back, "It's a size 6X! I haven't been a 6X since I was seven!"

He held them up for a moment before admitting that they might be a bit small for her. "Fine, what size do you wear."

Alice sniffed and tossed her head, bobbed curls bouncing about, "Fourteen."

Seifer sorted through the rack and pulled out her size, "There. Fourteen. Now try it on."

She huffed but didn't argue and Seifer waited outside the dressing room while she changed. The crappy rooms were side by side and the full body mirror was cracked down the center. He scowled at his reflection. He was starting to get scruffy, hair grown out to creep along his neck and get in his eyes while his beard looked scruffy. Looked like he needed a shave.

"Too small!" She called out.

"Are you sure?" He asked incredulously.

"I see F.H., I see Ranch! I see Alice's underpants!" Rory crowed, sticking his head under the changing room door.

Seifer hauled him out by his ankles, "Stop that, ya little shit!" He growled, but his son kept laughing helplessly on the floor.

"It's ok, Dad," Alice said calmly, "I was just gonna stomp on his face."

He rubbed his eyes for a moment and ignored the horrified look the attendant was giving him, "That's nice, Angel."

"They're really tight, though." She added, "and I can see my underpants."

"So what?" Seifer asked, "We gonna have to grab some trash bags and tie them around your waist?"

"Um, excuse me...," The attendant, a small elderly woman, ventured. "You could always try the junior's section. It's towards the front of the store."

Seifer grinned, "Hear, half-pint? They've got a special section for the likes of you. Lets get going."

Alice slipped out quickly, set the shorts on the attendant counter and took off across the store.

"Ah, glad to see she's excited. Always glad to spend my livelihood, just like her mother," Seifer sighed, nudging Rory off the floor where he sat making faces in the broken mirror. "Let's catch up with her, whatcha say?"

"If someone cut me in half, would I look like I did in the mirror?" Rory asked.

Seifer shook his head and pushed him forward to keep the kid walking. "More blood, less standing."

"Oh," Rory frowned, and Seifer had a feeling he'd narrowly dodge a scientific bullet. This was why he never left his son at home. It wasn't because he was afraid Rory would accidentally burn the house down cooking lunch. Seifer was afraid he'd do it on purpose and call it 'scientific experimentation.'

He noticed Alice heading in the opposite direction and frowned. "Oi!" he called, cupping his hands, "Wrong way!" But Alice ignore him, heading towards the back. "Come on," Seifer grumble, knotting his hand in Rory's shirt. "Lets see what's got her majesty's attention."

It ended up Alice had disappeared into the ladies' room, but five minutes later Seifer was getting impatient. He cracked the door open and stuck his head in, "Hyne, sweetheart, how long does it take to shit?"

There was a quiet squeak and rustling, but Alice slunk out of her stall before he had to go in after her. Seifer looked her up and down with a frown. She was white as a sheet and shaking. "Hey, what's wrong," He asked softly slipping inside.

"You- You can't be in here," Alice insisted shakily.

"Let them throw me out, then." Seifer shrugged, "How about you tell me what's up."

She dug at her nails and looked at the floor, "I'm bleeding."

Seifer was confused. Alice wasn't a delicate flower, no matter how often he told himself she was his princess. She ran rougher than the boys and always ended up on top, skinned knees be damned. Why would a little blood make her look faint? "Uh, ok. Do you need a band aid?"

"Dad!" She pleaded, "I'm bleeding."

He cocked his head and looked at her nervous gestures. They waving emphatically down, but her shorts were, well, short. He couldn't see a cut anywhere.

Then it hit him. She was bleeding.

His eyes went wide and he started babbling. This was not father territory, "Oh, oh SHIT!" He wheezed, "Couldn't this wait? I mean your mother's coming on Saturday, are you sure you can't just, I don't know, hold it?"

"DAD!" Alice shrieked furiously, but Seifer didn't miss the flash of panic across her face.

"Right, right, ok." He took a deep breath, "We, shit. Ok. This happens all the time. I'll just go get... stuff and you? You, uh..." He looked around before grabbing a paper towel and handing it to her, "You just stay here."

It was fine. Totally ok. Just because his little girl was bleeding out her - ok, no, not thinking about that ever. Solution. This was solution time. Millions of women around the world dealt with this every month and Seifer, being a man of the world, had at least limited experience with the subject of.... Periods.

His little girl was getting her period.

It wasn't fucking fair! Wasn't this supposed to wait until they were in high school or something? She hadn't even started junior high, yet! It was too early! Why was she suddenly growing up so fast? First the shorts and then the bras and now this? It just wasn't fair!

Seifer hit the hygiene aisle and was blown away. If he'd thought he was out of his depth before, he was a silly man who just didn't know. Floor to ceiling, spanning the entirety of the right aisle, was a wall of nothing but feminine products. He was silly, silly man.

"Well, fuck," he groused, pulling his hair as he stared in dismay. This might take awhile.

-

After a freakout over the mechanics of tampons, Seifer grabbed the nearest box of pads and bolted, leaving the aisle of mad female insanity behind him. Martia better show up Saturday, or Seifer was hunting her down and ripping out her expensive extensions with a lawnmower. It wasn't very often he felt like he couldn't help his kids, but this was an experience Alice shouldn't have to go through alone and Seifer knew he was as good as useless. All he had to do was patch her together for the week and hope to Hyne his ex-wife was less flaky than usual.

When he reached the bathroom, he pounded on the door and waited for Alice to crack it open. After a quick glance, she snatched the box out of his hand and dashed back inside, leaving him to wait. It didn't take very long, but her response was not what he'd hoped.

"I'm not wearing a DIAPER!" She screamed, ripping the door open and throwing the box at him. "What are you trying to do? I'm not two!"

"I- They're not diapers!"

Alice started crying.

"They're pads! See? Read the instructions, right here!" Seifer pointed them out heatedly, "Not diapers!"

"I hate you!"

The door slammed shut.

Seifer sighed and set the box on top of the trashcan. Plan B, then.

The walk back seemed to stretch before him and dread settled firmly in his stomach. Tampons were dangerous. They were insidious and dirty shaped and good little girls didn't use them, he was sure of it. Someone, somewhere, had to have scientific proof only sluts used tampons. But, if that were true, Seifer was setting his daughter up to be the school bicycle before she was even a real teenager. So, maybe it wasn't slutty?

He was so not cut out for this.

Rounding the corner, Seifer grimly grabbed a box of cheerfully illustrated tampons and marched back to the bathroom. He refused to think anymore. Package retrieved, Mission objective: Deliver package. One step after another and the bathroom loomed closer. Finally, he reached the cheap faux-wood door. With a quick knock, Seifer steeled himself for the final step and chided himself for the urge to bolt. It was almost over. One way or another, Alice was sticking something somewhere and Seifer was never, ever, thinking about this ever again.

"Yes," Alice answered flatly, glaring through the crack of the door.

Seifer rolled his eyes and shook the box, "I come bearing not-diapers."

Alice gave him a particularly scathing look before snaking out to snatch them away. When thirty seconds passed without screaming, Seifer considered things good. He took a deep breath and slumped against the wall, rubbing away his growing headache. "Hyne," he muttered to Rory. "I'm so glad I don't have to put up with this shit twice."

He looked over.

Rory was gone.

-

After the third heart attack, Seifer stopped counting. He'd accepted that it was just going to be one of those days and thanked the lovely cashier with the baggy-assed jeans who called for Rory over the intercom. The janitor found him taking apart the display over in bikes and Seifer pointedly didn't scream his foul head off in the middle of the store. Instead, he collected both of his children, grabbed a cart, and made the fastest shopping circle possible through the junior's section. He didn't ask Alice to try anything on, if it didn't fit, he'd return it later. They were all ready to go home.

Checking his watch at the checkout, he cursed. Somehow that had taken three hours and he had barely half an hour to get to work. Seifer'd been hoping to get cleaned up before he went, but that wasn't gonna happen. Carefully, he counted both of his children several times, just to make sure they were both there. Then, he snuck a couple chocolate bars onto the conveyor belt and paid.

The drive home was quiet, Alice still stuck in her funk and Rory sulking over being interrupted and Seifer was grateful for the reprieve. When he pulled into the driveway, the kids rushed out of the car and clattered into the house before he could blink. Sometimes he just didn't get it. Hell, Seifer didn't even know what he didn't get, anymore. He leaned into the backseat and grabbed the sacks. He set them on the counter and pulled a box of Mac'n'Cheese out of the pantry for dinner.

"I've got water boiling!" He called down the hall to Alice, knowing she heard him when her bed squeaked. He just shook his head and grabbed his work uniform.

Lucky Ricky's wasn't the classiest joint in town, but Seifer was far from being a chooser when it came to careers. People took it badly when he asked for work, whether because of his past or because of, well, him. Ricky preferred his waitresses to wear short skirts and plunging tops, but the day Seifer came in willing to sell his gunblade, Ricky had made a deal with him better than he could have hoped. Blade for a job. Ricky got the bragging rights and the spot of tourism it brought and Seifer had a steady income. Wearing a tight tee with 'Will Strip for Tips' scrawled across the chest was a small price to pay for stable employment. Of course, showing up late wasn't part of the bargain and if Seifer didn't hurry his ass up, Ricky might just return the damn blade and dump his ass.

Seifer was starting the car when Alice flew out the door and knocked insistently on the door. His initial terror dissolved when he saw the bright smile on her face. Seifer opened the door and Alice pushed her way in to give him a tight hug. "Oh, thank you, Daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She squeezed and Seifer smiled at the ridiculous polka-dot training bra clutched in her hand while he hugged her back.

Then again, sometimes making sense didn't matter