Phone Calls – A Final Fantasy VIII Fanfiction
Summary: Laguna Loire likes his sleep. Not that anyone else cares.
Poor Squally. He has nothing in common with his father. Or so he thinks.
2:00 in the morning
The ringing of the phone grated into the ears of one sleeping Laguna Loire, who tiredly sat up and grabbed the phone.
"'Lo, Laguna Loire," He yawned, rubbing his head. Some muttering on the other end of the line, "Mm-hmm," His voice grew irritated. "Can this wait until seven?" Another mutter and Laguna sighed. "I see. Good night."
Click!
2:00 in the morning, one week later.
"Laguna Loire of Esthar, how can I help you at this infernal hour of the morning?" Laguna deadpanned, staring blandly at the phone. Several mutters later from the other side of the phone, and Laguna hung up without answering.
Click!
2:30 in the morning, one month later.
"Laguna Loire, how may I help you at this Hyne-forsaken, infernal hour of the morning?" He sighed, and after a few seconds, hung up.
Click!
2:00 in the morning, one year later.
"Laguna Lorie, do you know what time it is?" A mutter of agreement, "Then exactly why are you calling at this infernal hour of the morning?" Silence. Laguna heard the dial tone, and smirked. "That's better."
Sixteen years later
8:30 the previous evening
Squall observed his father as he brought in some unusual objects.
"Um, dad?" Squall tested the word on his tongue. It was unusual, applying the word to the goofy man before him, but he found that he didn't mind when Laguna smiled at him, lips curved into a warm smile.
"Yes Squall?" Laguna smiled at him, setting the materials by his bed, clipping one of them on the phone jack before plugging the phone back in.
"What do you need a knife, bamboo splinters, and a GPS phone tracker for?" Squall asked, deadpan.
"You'll see in the morning," Laguna answered amusedly, before settling into bed. Squall followed suit, blinking.
Ring-Ring!
2:30 in the morning
Squall shot up from his spot in alarm, knife in hand, while Laguna simply rolled over and picked up the phone with a yawn.
"Hello, Laguna Loire with Bamboo splinters; a knife and a fire junction; and a GPS phone tracker. How may I help you at this infernal hour of two-fucking-thirty?" Laguna chirped.
Dial tone answered them. Laguna smiled at a shocked Squall and hung up the phone.
"Good night!" Laguna chirped.
As he snuggled back into bed, Squall decided perhaps he got his temper from his father after all.
Just for fun.