Author's Note:

Sweet mercy, I am so, so sorry for the extended delay! Things have been busy for both beta and I, but I'm glad to finally be updating again! Thank you to everyone that reviewed last chapter. I'm so humbled by the attention this story has received. I can't thank all of you amazing readers enough! Fair warning, the next chapter is coming along rather slowly, so there might be another delay. Please don't hurt me! *runs and hides*

Also, a shoutout to Myrrdinfalcon for correctly identifying my Star Trek Easter Egg! *round of applause* Lord, I'm such a nerd. XD I inserted another one into this chapter that might be a little more difficult to spot.

On a side note, I made a writer page on FaceBook. The link is located on my profile if any of you are interested in checking it out. I'll be posting fic updates and random tidbits on it.

Alright, I won't keep you guys waiting any longer! Just a quick, very big, well deserved thank you to my beta, H-thar. Without her I'd be hopelessly lost. Also, a wave of congratulations to her for the arrival of her gorgeous little girl! Pink cigars for everyone!

Chapter 6

Eye of the Beholder

"Aren't you glad you took my dad up on his offer?" Hope asked, glancing over his shoulder at me as he unlocked the front door of his father's house.

I smirked, rolling my eyes as I followed him inside, and breathed in deeply. "Not really. I was so looking forward to staying in a cheap hotel."

"Well, we're glad to disappoint you then," he replied with a smile, tossing his keys into a dish on a side table in the foyer. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."

I followed him up the stairs, inwardly eager to see the rest of the house. I had seen a grand total of three rooms when we visited a week ago, and, at the time, I had been so overwhelmed that the prospect of exploring hadn't even entered my mind. I placed my hand on the ornate mahogany banister as I ascended the stairs behind him, glancing sideways at the pictures hanging on the walls. I had to fight off the impulse to stop and get a closer look at them.

When we reached the second floor landing, I noticed a sitting area to the left and a hallway stretching off to the right. A loveseat, easy chair and small coffee table were stationed beside a large bay window with a painting of the Yaschas Massif hung on the wall and I started to wonder if Bartholomew had hired an interior decorator. No widower could decorate like this without outside help.

I followed Hope down a short section of hallway that had one door on either side before he made a left turn to an even longer section. More pictures and paintings were positioned along both sides of the hallway, and I was so preoccupied with admiring the decor that I barely saved myself from crashing headlong into Hope's back when he stopped abruptly. I froze in place, my body mere centimeters from coming in contact with his, and sucked in a sharp breath, my heart rate suddenly speeding up as the scent of his cologne permeated through the air around me. I took a quick step back, my eyes wide as I willed my heart to slow down and the foreign fluttering in my stomach to stop, and thanked Etro profusely that Hope hadn't noticed anything.

"Here we are," he said, opening the door for me and gesturing dramatically towards the room as he stepped aside, an overly excited smile screwed onto his face. By the time he set his gaze on me I had regained my bearings, my expression once again stoic. "I hope you like it."

I walked past him, shaking my head, and stopped just inside the doorway before slowly scanning the room, wondering if I had suddenly been transported into a palace. The bed alone looked big enough for three people to fit in comfortably and the dark wood flooring was so immaculate that I almost didn't want to walk on it for fear of scuffing it.

I glanced over my shoulder at Hope, one of my eyebrows arched. "Are you sure you don't have anything nicer?" I asked, walking toward the bed and tossing my bag onto it. "I don't think I'll be able to stay in such horrible conditions."

Hope laughed and followed me inside, casually sliding his hands into his pockets. "I'd give you my room, but it's a mess."

I chuckled, the skin on the back of my neck prickling involuntarily at the mention of his room, and folded my arms over my stomach, strolling around for a moment before stopping in front of a sliding glass door that led out onto a small balcony. The view was quite spectacular, to say the least.

I unlocked the door, slid it open and stepped out, going over to lean against the railing as I sighed in relief that I didn't have to worry about fending off any more curious onlookers or adoring fans. As my eyes scanned over the backyard, I spotted a swimming pool below with a diving board and an impressive looking slide on opposite sides of the deepest end.

"Wow, Hope," I began, turning around and propping my elbows up on the metal railing. "I think your dad deserves the title of Richest Man on Pulse."

He shrugged as he came to join me. "Thanks, I think," he said, crossing his arms over his chest when he stopped beside me. "Dad didn't know what to do with all the extra money once he became Mayor, so after getting a few things that we didn't have when I was younger, he started doing a bunch of charity work." He paused for a moment and drummed his fingers on his forearm. "So, um…want something to drink?" he asked, scratching the back of his head.

I pursed my lips as I thought. "How about a beer."

He grinned and nodded. "Coming right up."

After he left the room, I made my way back inside and took my shoes off, neatly positioning them under my bed, before rummaging through my bag. I pulled out the uniform I would be wearing in the morning and draped it across a chair then extricated the shirt and sweat pants I brought to sleep in, placing them on the bed for later.

I heard Hope's footsteps coming back down the hall and returned to the balcony, pulling a chair close to the railing. I dropped onto the soft cushion and propped my feet up, a contented sigh escaping through my parted lips. I leaned my head back and breathed in deeply, sincerely glad to be away from all the unwanted attention I had voluntarily subjected myself to. I made a mental note to not allow my sister to drag me back to another Anniversary of the Fall celebration for the rest of my life. Part of one was more than enough for me.

"Here ya go," Hope said, pulling a chair up beside me and handing the cold, dark glass bottle to me before sitting down.

I gladly took it from him and immediately took a large swig, smacking my lips against the robust flavor. "Hmm, not bad," I said, looking at the label briefly before taking another drink.

A few moments of calm silence passed between us as I stared at the horizon, the pool, and even my feet while I thought of something to ask him. I wasn't exactly well versed in the strange language of small talk so a sense of relief washed over me when Hope took a breath to speak. "What time do you have to report tomorrow?"

"Not until thirteen hundred," I answered, staring off into the distance for a couple of seconds and gently rotating the beer bottle in my hand in slow circles. I glanced over at him as a thought occurred to me. "I'll be going on a run in the morning. Care to join me?"

His head snapped up, and he stammered briefly as he attempted to get his thoughts in order. "Well, uh… S-sure!" he blurted, chuckling nervously. "Yeah, that would be great. What time were you thinking of going?"

"Five-thirty," I responded, smiling inwardly. "Is that alright with you?"

Hope's green eyes widened to the point that I thought they would pop out of his skull before he managed to collect himself, running a hand over his face to help rub out the tension. "Of course! No problem!"

I grinned, amused by his flustered state. "Think you can do five miles?"

I had to bite down on my tongue to keep a straight face. All the color seeped out of his cheeks and, for a moment, I thought he was going to be sick. When he finally answered me, the waver in his voice was obvious. "Um, well…yeah," he stammered, nodding his head in mock confidence. "I might need to stop once or twice, but sure."

I chuckled under my breath as I finished the rest of my beer. "Don't worry, I'm a good motivator."

"Yeah, I learned that one the hard way."

I couldn't stop the laugh that pushed past my lips then, and it honestly felt amazing.

After my laughter was carried away by the wind we sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. I stared off aimlessly, my gaze following a small flock of birds as they lifted into the sky, and my eyes unconsciously flicked in his direction when Hope took a breath to speak. "Uh, Light?" he asked, his voice hesitant. "Can I ask you something?"

I met his eyes and nodded once, silently prompting him to continue.

His gaze briefly flicked down to the beer bottle in his hand, then he cleared his throat in preparation. "I have no idea how any of this military stuff works, and I know it's probably a little too early to ask this, but do you know if you'll be going back to Oerba once you're an officer?"

"That all depends on where I'm needed," I replied, sitting up straight in my chair and crossing my legs.

He nodded and chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. I could tell he was trying to decipher my rather vague response on his own, but his lack of knowledge about the military and how they operated was stumping him. If I was being completely honest, I didn't always understand what went on within my own career field.

I chuckled softly as he continued to think, and I tapped my empty beer bottle on the arm of my chair to snag his attention so I could explain. "I could request to be stationed in Oerba, but a position for a First Lieutenant needs to be open within my job field for that to happen. If there isn't, I'll be stationed in Paddra."

He bobbed his head in understanding, then braced his forearm against the arm of his chair and leaned toward me, an amused grin decorating his face. "You know, Serah's gonna be a little miffed if you get stationed out here so soon after getting you back."

I snorted and shook my head, but I knew in the back of my mind that statement was absolutely true. "Being separated by distance is nothing compared to crystalstasis. I intend on visiting as often as possible, but I'll need to find out about any restrictions first."

The smile on Hope's face that looked almost relieved was quickly replaced by another confused frown. "What kind of restrictions?"

"Usually during the course of training to either become an officer or join special forces, boundaries are drawn to keep the candidates on track," I explained, my eyes never leaving his face. "That could range from limiting their access to certain areas around the base or completely restricting them from leaving the base all together. The restrictions don't last forever, though; they're lifted once a certain point in training is reached."

He was silent as he assimilated that information, nodding slowly, and my mind compared him to a hypnotized python again. I had to force myself not to snort when the unwelcome mental image of a snake with a mop of unruly silver hair and green eyes flashed through my mind.

"Okay, I think I follow you. And you're still in the, uh…security regiment, right?"

One corner of my mouth quirked and I nodded. "Of course. I've never considered cross training before. I like my job."

His eyes crinkled around the corners, suddenly looking thoughtful. "You know, I've always wanted to ask you… What drew you to that particular job in the Guardian Corps? You could have chosen anything, right?"

I involuntarily pressed my lips together at what he thought was an innocent question. This was another piece of information that only Serah and Snow were privy to, but nothing that was a highly safeguarded secret. This was honestly the first time anyone had asked me why I had made that specific career choice.

I met his expectant gaze and nodded again. "Yes, I could have. I chose security forces because my father was a civilian law enforcement officer."

Realization dawned on his face and he stammered for a moment before regaining his bearings to shoot me a charming smile. "Well, I know he'd be proud of you," he said, reaching over and cupping my shoulder, squeezing it softly.

Half my mouth curled upward at his comment, and I absently flexed my hand as I tried not to think about how my skin was tingling from his touch. I breathed in deeply and looked away, staring at the trees on the edge of the property as I centered my thoughts. Serah was the only one who had ever said something like that to me; she knew better than anyone what following in our father's footsteps meant to me.

"Thank you. I'd like to think so," I quietly replied.

Hope's fingers slid off my shoulder and my head involuntarily turned in his direction, my eyes following the path his hand took on its way back to his arm rest. My gaze snapped up to meet his as soon as I heard him take a breath to speak and shifted uncomfortably in my seat, this aggravating pattern of catching myself staring at him beginning to wear on me.

"So, I know this is an extremely off the wall question," he began, suddenly breaking the silence again, "but what's your favorite color?"

My eyebrows pinched together in confusion and I sat there, perplexed, staring at him for the few seconds that followed and wondering if he had honestly asked me that question. How had he gone from asking about my career choice to what color I liked the most?

"My favorite…color?" I repeated, as though he had suddenly begun speaking Ancient Pulsian.

He chuckled and nodded, and I was thrown off guard by the seriousness I detected behind the amusement in his expression. The problem solving part of my mind immediately conjured up two possible explanations: either he had become a very convincing liar or I was losing my touch in detecting deception. I didn't even want to entertain the thought that he was being completely forward.

"I've gotta start somewhere, don't I?" he inquired, like the reasoning behind his asking should have been obvious. "Just think about it; we hardly know anything about each other as people. I know we didn't have the luxury of casual conversation when we were running for our lives trying to escape the Sanctum, but now that everything has more or less settled down, better late than never, right?"

I pursed my lips as I considered his explanation, and I couldn't deny the truth in what he'd said. We both knew things about the other that we might have never found out about otherwise, had we met under different circumstances, but we'd leapt over masses of mundane information to get there. I tapped my empty beer bottle against the arm of my chair for a moment, suddenly leery about answering anymore personal questions, even though this one was harmless; much less harmless than his previous question had been. That voice in the back of my head reminded me that innocent questions eventually led to things that could potentially be uncomfortably personal, and that small detail in mind almost forced me to refuse to answer.

But a bigger part of me, a part I wasn't so sure I understood yet, actually wanted to allow someone besides my sister to see the real me, not just the soldier.

"Blue," I answered simply.

Surprise flashed briefly through Hope's eyes as though he had been expecting me not to answer, and he nodded. "Mine's orange."

"Orange?" I shot back, arching an eyebrow.

"Why do you think I never wanted to get rid of that jacket I wore? Besides the fact that my mom bought it for me."

"A valid point," I replied, chuckling. "I'll say this about your mom. She had an interesting fashion sense."

Hope laughed softly and looked down at his lap, a nostalgic smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "Yeah, she did."

Our conversation drifted off then, and a part of me wondered if my comment had been a little too bold. I wasn't known for being loose lipped and the last thing I wanted to do was inadvertently say something about his mother that might upset him. I had never met Nora, – I only knew the things I'd heard from Hope and Bartholomew, which wasn't much – but her son and husband had loved her dearly and probably missed her as much as I still missed my own parents.

I was in the process of thinking how to approach a potential apology when he looked back up and directed his gaze toward me. "So, how about a tour to pass the time?"

The abrupt shift in his demeanor left me scrambling for a few seconds before nodding. "I'd like that. Lead the way."

We eventually ended up in the kitchen about an hour later after an extended tour of the house. Hope had immediately gone to the fridge and began rooting around inside it for something we both could snack on while we waited for his father to return from the celebration. I was leaning up against the center island, perusing the evening paper and casually sipping on a soda when my phone suddenly began ringing in my back pocket.

Hope jumped, startled by the sudden, loud succession of notes, and ended up hitting the back of his head on one of the shelves. He muttered a string of curses as he carefully backed out of the fridge and closed the door, albeit not so gently, tenderly rubbing the sore spot on his head. He caught me staring at him with one eyebrow arched and he grinned sheepishly, sticking one of his thumbs in the air.

I smirked as I pulled my phone out, seeing my sister's name on the bright screen. "Hello?" I answered, straightening and crossing my free arm over my chest.

"Hey, Claire!" Serah announced cheerfully. "How are you?"

"Well enough," I replied, tracking Hope as he slithered into the pantry, taking note that his cheeks were colored a light pink. "What about you?"

"Things are winding down over here," she responded. I heard the easily recognizable baritone of Snow's voice in the background before Serah continued. "Would you and Hope like to meet all of us for dinner before we head back to Oerba?"

Hope's upper body appeared in the pantry's doorway, a half eaten cookie in his hand, and he quirked an eyebrow at me. I couldn't help but snort.

"Sounds great. Where?" I asked, kind of thankful for my sister's impromptu invitation if only to keep Hope from raiding his own pantry.

"It's called the Red Rock Grill," she answered. "Hope should know how to get there. Our reservation's an hour from now."

"Okay, see you soon." I ended the call and returned my phone to my back pocket.

"Serah?" Hope guessed, shoving the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

I nodded as I stepped away from the counter, softly padding by him. "She wants us to meet them at a place called The Red Rock Grill," I called as I left the kitchen, heading for the stairs.

Hope quickly caught up, ascending the stairs behind me. "Nice choice. Dad and I have gone there a couple times. You guys are gonna like it."

I nodded once as I reached the second floor landing and strode purposefully down the hall to my room, eager to see my sister before she left. "I'll take your word for it," I called back to him.

Twenty minutes later, I was seated in the passenger seat of Bartholomew's hover car as Hope maneuvered it through the still unfamiliar streets, playing chauffer. I leaned my head back against the rest and watched the buildings go by outside, the reminder that I would be calling this immense city home for the next three months ever present in my thoughts.

I pressed my lips together and expelled a slow breath out of my nose, propping my elbow on the edge of the door panel and rubbed my forehead. I would have to get used to yet another big adjustment, as if waking up after seven years and seeing all the changes in my family and environment weren't enough. I shifted in my seat, looking at Hope out of the corner of my eye before staring out the windshield and absently chewing on the inside of my cheek, a distinct pricking in the back of my mind another reminder telling me that he was the most notable change I would continue struggling to deal with.

I briefly glanced at Hope in my peripheral vision, the sound of his heavy breathing unusually loud in the quiet of the early morning, and inwardly smirked. He'd done surprisingly well so far keeping up with my pace. He only needed to slow down to catch his breath twice so far, and we only had two miles to go until we got back to his father's house.

I took in a long breath through my nose, enjoying the crisp chill in the air, and exhaled through my mouth, repeating the process over and over. I shifted my gaze to the horizon, squinting my eyes as they came to rest on the rim of the rising sun. The large glowing sphere was barely peeking over the top-most branches of the trees, casting bright rays of color across the sky. I smiled to myself as I continued to pump my legs one after the other, paying no mind to the dull burn in my muscles.

Thoughts of my meeting with Colonel Amodar later on reared up suddenly and I couldn't stop my mind from wandering to my impending officer training. In only three short months I would be going to an endless string of meetings with other higher ups and spending more time behind a desk than out in the field. I really wasn't looking forward to all the ass-kissing I would be subjected to in my training, but getting the chance to further my career in the military would surely be worth it.

I once again shifted my gaze over to Hope to see how he was doing and frowned when I saw the space beside me empty. I slowed and looked over my shoulder, spying him a few paces behind me.

He shot me an exhausted, lopsided grin and joined my side as I resumed my earlier pace. "I was…about ready to…say something," he labored, his cheeks red from the exertion. "You started pulling ahead."

I nodded. "Sorry, I don't usually go this slow."

He chuckled then, but it ended up sounding more like he was coughing. "This is slow?" he asked incredulously. "Thanks for goin' easy on me."

"You're welcome," I replied with a grin. "I wouldn't want to give you a heart attack."

"Much appreciated."

I looked over at him and met his eyes, one corner of my mouth curling up in a smirk. "Anytime."

He smiled back and shook his head, breathing in deeply as he brought his gaze back to the path in front of us. We finished the last stretch of our run in silence.

Hope expelled an enormous sigh of relief when we came to a stop in the driveway and leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. I stopped next to him and lifted my wrist, stopping the timer on my watch, then laced my fingers behind my head and breathed in and out evenly to lower my heart rate.

"Just barely under an hour," I told him, looking down at the back of his head. "Not bad. Good job."

"Only an hour, huh?" he wheezed, straightening and propping his hands on his hips. "It feels like we've been running all day." He paused and appraised me skeptically, making me quirk an eyebrow at him. "And it looks like you aren't even tired."

I grinned and stretched my arms. "I'm used to it," I responded as we made our way inside. "But just imagine doing that every day at four in the morning, with a drill instructor running beside you screaming all kinds of obscenities, and you'll have an idea of what basic training was like."

"Geez," Hope said, his eyes wide. "I don't think I'd survive being in the military."

"Don't feel bad," I replied, shaking my head. "Not everyone is cut out for it."

Bartholomew stuck his head out of the kitchen as we opened the door and smiled at us in greeting when we walked in. "Welcome back! How did it go?"

"Well, I'm still alive," Hope answered, grabbing two bottles of water out of the fridge and handing one to me before quickly sucking down half of his. "I think I'm going to feel like warmed over death when I get home from work, though."

Bartholomew chuckled under his breath as he stirred creamer into his coffee. "Good to see you survived. What time do you have to be at work this morning?" he asked his son.

"By eight," Hope answered before chugging down the rest of his water and tossing the empty bottle into a garbage bin.

Bartholomew looked over at me then, the overhead light of the kitchen glinting off the lenses of his glasses. "Oh, the colonel called while you were out and asked me to give you a message. He said that even though he told you to report by one o'clock, you're welcome to come in earlier if you prefer."

I nodded, recalling that I had left my phone up in my room when I went out on the run with Hope. "I plan on going to the base once you and Hope leave for work," I replied, and inclined my head toward him. "Thank you for inviting me to stay overnight. It was a pleasure."

He smiled and shook his head. "You're welcome, Lightning. We've enjoyed the company."

Hope left the kitchen a few minutes later to get ready for his shift at the clinic while I chose to remain downstairs and have a cup of coffee with Bartholomew. Even though he was the one that did most of the talking, I noticed that carrying on a conversation with him was much easier than with Hope and I wasn't exactly sure how to feel about that. I clicked my tongue in contemplation as Bartholomew filled me in on what had happened at the Fall celebration after my departure, my thoughts scattering into a jumbled mess.

Once Hope returned downstairs dressed in teal colored scrubs, I promptly retreated to the shower myself, then dressed in the uniform I had laid out the night before. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror as I buckled everything into place, like I had done countless times over the years, I couldn't stop the plethora of pent up emotions that had been building for the past week from bothering me. Pinning down exactly what I felt just then was near impossible.

The only thing I did know was how grateful I was to be able to carry on with my life alongside my family and friends. No one would ever understand how much I appreciated that.

Hope met me in the hall as I was on my way downstairs with my bag in hand. "Hey, um, would you like me to give you a ride to the base?" he asked, sliding one his hands into a pocket while he ran the other through his still damp hair. "It's not very far out of the way."

I opened my mouth to tell him I was fine with catching a hover cab, - both he and his father had already done enough for me in the past twenty-four hours – but the words died in my throat before I got the chance to spit them out. The hopeful expression on his face struck me somehow and I couldn't bring myself to deny him.

"Well… Sure," I replied clumsily. "Thank you."

A broad smile stretched across his face and a strange sensation slithered up my back as I brushed past him, rolling my shoulders to dispel whatever was crawling beneath my skin. The sudden instinct to quicken my pace and put as much distance between Hope and me as possible would have – and could have – won out if I hadn't reached the stairs at that moment in time.

But that didn't stop me from descending them as quickly as I dared without making it look like I was running away, confounded by the strange influx of emotions that I wasn't accustomed to experiencing. The sensations were alien to me and, having no way to define them, I dismissed them as simply as I would déjà vu.

My shoulders stiffened involuntarily as I knocked on Colonel Amodar's office door, the sound echoing forlornly through the deserted hallway. Seconds later, a voice barked a hurried reply and I wasted no time in stepping inside. After seeing exactly who was on the other side of his door, though, the colonel's strained expression transformed into a pleased smile as he leaned back in his chair, promptly dropping his pen onto the documents in front of him.

I placed my bag on the floor in front of his desk and saluted. "Sergeant Farron, reporting for duty, sir."

"At ease," he said, waving his hand through the air like he was batting away a fly before extending it toward the chair I was standing beside. "Please, sit."

"Thank you, sir," I replied as I returned my arm to my side and sat down, mimicking his relaxed posture.

He folded his hands on the paper covered surface of his desk, propping his elbows on the edge. "I trust you had an enjoyable week?"

I nodded, a smirk curling up one corner of my mouth as I remembered everything that had transpired over the last seven days. 'Enjoyable' wasn't exactly how I would describe it, but it hadn't been a complete disaster either, so that had to count for something, right?

"As much as possible," I answered, crossing my right leg over my left.

"And how are you adjusting?" he inquired, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges.

I took a breath and averted my eyes from the Colonel's, gazing at the wall behind him. "It's been a challenge," I replied, my right foot beginning to bounce restlessly. "I'm still a little confounded by how drastically things have changed. It…hasn't been easy." My thoughts immediately went to Hope, the image of his matured face settling into the forefront of my mind, and I cleared my throat, fighting for my focus.

Amodar pulled his hands up as he listened to me and folded them in front of his mouth, his eyes never leaving my face. He was quiet as my words faded away, the steady tick-tock of the clock hanging on his wall counting down the seconds. "So far you've handled everything better than I could have imagined," he said, his voice cutting right through the thick air between us. "Give yourself time." He paused suddenly, and I could see the edges of a wide smile hidden behind his hands. "You've only been awake for a little over a week, after all."

My mouth twitched. "Thank you, sir."

He nodded, then dropped his hands back down to his desk and took a deep, cleansing breath. "Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" He methodically sifted through the paper stack on his desk, pulling a few out and handing them to me. I plucked a pen out of the holder on the corner of his desk, knowing I would once again be signing my life away, but almost happy about it. "These are just your reenlistment documents. I put you down for six years."

I nodded as I applied my signature to the marked boxes, then handed them back.

He procured a few more sheets of paper, but paused before giving them to me. "Would you prefer to be housed somewhere besides the barracks?"

I immediately shook my head, extending my hand toward him for the documents. "No, the barracks will be fine." He gave them to me with a smile and I quickly signed them.

We spent the next half hour passing one important paper after the other back and forth between us. This was a portion of GC life that I hadn't missed in the least, and the fact that I would soon be having to deal with mountains of paperwork most of the time wasn't encouraging. I enjoyed being out in the field, so I wasn't exactly looking forward to being stuck behind a desk.

Amodar gathered all the papers I had signed into a neat pile and placed them inside a black folder. "Unfortunately, the rest of this week you're going to be in processing," he informed me, rising from his chair. I quickly followed suit, plucking my bag off the floor. "All the fun won't happen until next week."

I nodded in understanding as I replied casually, "It'll give me a chance to get settled." There were only a couple of days left in the work week, not including the weekend, so I was glad I wouldn't have to sit around and wait for long.

He walked around his desk, my file tucked underneath his arm. "How about I show you where you'll be staying?" he suggested, going over to the door and opening it. "The barracks aren't far from the finance building."

"That would be helpful, sir. Thank you," I said as I preceded him out of his office.

"No thanks needed, Farron," he replied, striding down the hall with his hands folded behind his back. "I wouldn't want you getting lost, now."

I grinned as I fell in step beside him. In the seven years that I had been asleep, Amodar was the one who had changed the least, but I hadn't expected anything less. It would take a lot more than climbing the ranks all the way up from Lieutenant to Colonel to change him.

"Sir?" I began, remembering a certain detail about our conversation last week as we were walking down the sidewalk. "Where do I go to pick up my new uniforms?"

"Ah, yes. Your uniforms are waiting for you in your room," he said, shooting me a knowing sideways glance. "I had a feeling you'd want to stay in the barracks, so I took the liberty of getting your room set up."

I breathed out sharply through my nose, the corners of my mouth twitching as I looked over at him. "I'm thanking you a great deal today, sir."

"Then don't feel obligated," he replied with a smile. "You've been out of the loop for seven years, so I knew you'd appreciate a small amount of assistance."

I nodded, understanding the hidden meaning he was placing in that statement. Being such a high ranking officer, he needed to be mindful of the favoritism he showed towards the other soldiers under his command. The courtesy that he was extending to me was only temporary, and I would treat it as such. Expecting special treatment from him on a regular basis was not only unprofessional, but a good way for me to get noticed for all the wrong reasons.

Amodar led me into the barracks building and ascended the stairs to the third floor. He paused on the landing and turned to me, extracting a key card from his pocket. "This is your key," he said, handing it to me. "Your room number is on the back. I trust you can find your way from here?"

"Yes, sir," I answered, glancing down at the card briefly. "What needs to be done tomorrow?"

"You should be getting a call in the morning," he told me, holding the black folder that contained the documents I had signed between both of his hands. "I should get these over to finance. Have a good day, Sergeant Farron."

"And you as well, sir," I responded as he began descending the stairs.

I watched his progression down the stairs until he disappeared from sight, then began slowly walking down the hallway, directing my attention to the plastic card in my hand. The numbers '3-23' were printed below a forward facing arrow, prompting me to glance up and look at the numbers on the doors as I passed. Room 23 was near the end of the hall, and I expelled a slow breath out my nose as I stopped in front of the door. I stared down at the handle for a moment before sliding the card into the slot on the door and stepping inside.

The interior of the room was plain; white stucco walls and cheap dark brown carpet decorated the living area. One bed, a dresser and a desk were the only pieces of furniture. After taking a few steps inside, I spied a small kitchenette with all the amenities and couldn't stop my eyebrows from jumping into my hair line. This room was much nicer than the one I had during tech school, and I irrationally wondered if I had been given the wrong room.

That was over ten years ago, I thought as my gaze fell on a partially opened door on the far side of the kitchenette, my feet automatically carrying me towards it. Oh, my very own bathroom? Shocking.

Upon closer inspection of a small closet, I found three brand new black and silver uniforms, complete with black capes, two stripe shoulder pauldrons and black leather leg pouches hanging neatly inside along with a pair of shiny black boots pushed up against the wall beneath them. I got a closer look at one of them, running a hand over the pristine black leather, then brought the fluorescent lights inside one of the pauldrons to life, recognizing the reddish orange of my Sergeant rank. I nodded in satisfaction and closed the door, not feeling like trying it on at the moment.

I let out a small sigh as I went to my bed and dropped my bag onto it, intending to get partly settled in before venturing out onto the base to get something to eat. I unzipped my bag and began taking out the clothes I had brought with me to put in the dresser, which wasn't much. I made a mental note to make a trip to Oerba soon to get more clothes.

After I emptied my bag, leaving its contents spread around on the surface of my bed, I had just begun to move it under my bed when I felt and heard the crinkling of paper in one of the side pockets. I frowned, distinctly remembering that I hadn't put anything in there, and unzipped it, pulling out a plain white envelope. I hummed in thought as I pulled out a folded piece of paper and a plastic card, immediately recognizing my sister's curvy script.

Had a feeling you'd need this. There should be more than enough to tide you over until you start receiving your pay. I miss you already!

I blinked away an uncharacteristic burning in my eyes at my sister's sentimental gesture as I looked at the shiny card in my hand. I wasn't used to being taken care of, especially by my younger sister. All the support I had been given since awakening was overwhelming and I couldn't help but wonder how I had gotten so lucky.

The rest of the week wasn't as lackluster as I thought it was going to be. In fact, it was the total opposite, but not in a good way. After receiving a phone call from a major that worked in the education center the morning after I arrived, I was busy going all over the base preparing for the first day of training. In conjunction with being in processing, it felt like I was moving at the speed of light with no hope of slowing down until I was driven to sleep or eat.

Every night before I would collapse into bed, though, I spent a few minutes speaking with my sister and, oddly enough, Hope. Our conversations were short and still slightly awkward, with a multitude of dead silences that I had no idea how to fill, but it was nice knowing that someone else besides Serah was interested in how I was faring.

Our conversation the night before my officer training officially started, however, left me feeling completely and utterly blindsided.

"So, I've got a question for you," Hope began after a few moments of uneasy silence.

"Shoot," I replied, getting the books together that I would need in the morning. Much to my extreme displeasure, the first month of training, charmingly coined Phase One, would be spent in classrooms listening to lectures and taking notes.

It's like high school all over again, I thought, groaning inwardly.

"Would you like to, um… I-I mean, if you're allowed and all, you know – "

"Hope, spit it out," I interrupted, dropping heavily into my desk chair and draping my free arm over the back.

His breath whistled through my ear piece as he took a few seconds to collect himself. "Sorry," he apologized, chuckling nervously. "What I was trying to say is, do you want to drop by the clinic tomorrow for some breakfast before your training? My treat?"

The request was so unexpected that I had no idea how to answer him. I sat there staring at the floor in bewilderment, honestly glad that we were talking on the phone at that particular moment. Had we been face to face, retaining any of my dignity and trying not to look like a gaping fish would have been impossible.

The silence that passed between us as I tried to remember how to speak was agonizing. Now it was my turn to stammer and trip over my words like an idiot. "Um, sure. That, uh… Thank you," I answered awkwardly, suddenly picturing a cartoonish image of myself firing my gunblade into my own temple. "What, uh, what time? My first class is at…" I paused and took a deep breath, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. "Nine."

Hope chuckled on the other end of the line and I growled inwardly, dragging a hand roughly down my face. "I'll be getting to the clinic about seven forty-five, so you can make your way over anytime after that," he replied, a smile evident is his voice. "See you in the morning?"

I nodded and trapped a yawn behind my hand. "Yeah, I'll be there at eight. Good night, Hope."

"'Night," he mumbled before hanging up, and his words from our strange conversation rang in my ears long after the call had ended.

Thus, I was on my way to the clinic the next morning when eight o'clock reared its ugly head, the subject material for my first class tucked tightly underneath my right arm. Having to go all the way back to the barracks after meeting with Hope for breakfast when the education center wasn't far from the main gate was counterproductive, so lugging my books with me would save me precious minutes.

As the clinic came into view, I found myself slowing down to almost a standstill. I was honestly dreading walking through that door, mainly because I didn't have the slightest clue what to expect out of him. Going into things blind was not how I operated, and that reminder nearly made me turn tail and run in the opposite direction.

At least he didn't tell you to meet him in a public setting, my mind whispered to me.

That thought alone made me pause in the middle of the sidewalk, and I stared down at the concrete with a focused gaze as a wave of relief went coursing through me. In the clinic, we'd be able to carry on a conversation without dozens of people who recognized me eavesdropping, or the likely presence of anyone from the tabloids. I expelled a short breath before closing the remaining distance to the clinic doors, speeding up my pace considerably.

All of the sudden, I couldn't wait to get out of the open.

Hope was standing by the door leading to the examination rooms when I entered, and the smile that had been on his face immediately disappeared, replaced with wide-eyed astonishment as he stared at my new uniform.

"What?" I asked, quickly glancing down at myself to make sure I had in fact dressed myself that morning. "Black isn't my color?"

He instantly shook his head, his hair flying about like an errant gust of wind had just blown through the clinic. "No! I mean it looks, well… Y-you look great." He bowed his head in embarrassment, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his scrubs pants as he attempted to salvage the situation. He took a deep breath after a few moments and met my eyes sheepishly. "Anyway, everything's back in the break room. Figured that eating out here wouldn't be the best idea."

I nodded and breathed in deeply through my nose before following him through the door, his words once again ringing in my ears. I began wondering exactly what I had gotten myself into, but that thought was short lived when I saw a paper bag and a drink carrier with two cups nestled inside sitting on top of a nondescript wooden table. Another small sigh of relief escaped through my parted lips, making my eyebrows twitch in confusion.

What did you expect, Lightning? I asked myself, smoothing my gloved hands over my legs as I approached the table. Some kind of romantic candle-lit breakfast with musical accompaniment? I snorted under my breath at the very thought of something so sappy.

"It's nothing special," he began, pulling a medium sized to-go box out of the bag and handing it to me. "But I hope you like it."

I accepted it, surprised by its weight, and flipped the lid open, genuinely curious about the contents. Inside was the biggest cinnamon roll I had ever seen, barely contained in the box, and covered with thick, white, gooey frosting. My jaw slackened slightly as its warm aroma wafted by my nose, making my mouth water in anticipation. A plastic fork suddenly appeared in my field of vision and I looked up, locking gazes with Hope.

"You'll need this," he told me with a grin.

I took the fork from his grasp with my left hand, keeping my outer reaction as stoic as possible as his fingers grazed over mine, and nudged one of the chairs away from the table with my foot. After sitting down and placing both the box and my books on the table, I switched the fork over to my right hand and flexed the fingers of my left, baffled by their inexplicable tingling, as Hope pulled his own fork and napkins out of the bag.

"I wasn't exactly sure how you liked your coffee, so I got you my usual," he explained, placing one of the cups in front of me.

I eyed him warily. "And what, pray tell, is your usual?"

He sat down across from me with that same lopsided grin screwed onto his mouth. "Black, double sweet."

"Oh, really?" I replied, one of my eyebrows arching skeptically. I glanced down at the cup before picking it up and taking a small sip, genuinely impressed by the taste. "It just so happens that I take my coffee this exact way." I watched him closely over the rim of my cup as I took another drink.

"Well, fancy that," he remarked, his shoulders quaking as he chuckled, watching me just as closely.

"My sister told you that," I stated matter-of-factly.

His mouth quivered at the corners as he crossed his arms over his chest. "And how do you know that? How do you know I didn't guess that all on my own?"

I leveled him with a knowing stare. "Your poker face is terrible, Estheim."

A throaty chuckle resonated through his chest as he scooted closer to the table, brandishing his fork at the cinnamon roll like a warrior ready to do battle. He dug the plastic utensil into the pastry, tearing a good-sized chunk off and shoving it into his mouth. As he chewed, an expression like he had just achieved heavenly enlightenment fell over his face, and he slumped into his chair.

I rolled my eyes and settled them back on the steam drifting out of my coffee cup, my mind a blur of confusion. Why has he been taking his coffee like I do? I wondered, hesitantly looking back at him through narrowed eyes.

I eradicated those thoughts from my mind as I took a bite of my own cinnamon roll, humming in surprise as I chewed. The quality of it really was impressive. It definitely wasn't one of those cheap, frozen cinnamon rolls you pop into a microwave that comes out more hard and crispy than soft and warm. This was handmade dough and probably even handmade frosting. I swallowed and took a short sip of coffee to wash it down before immediately taking another bite, enjoying the confection more than I thought I would.

"Why do they make these so big?" I asked, dabbing the corner of my mouth with a napkin. "I would have been set with half."

Hope shook his head as he chewed. "I have no clue, but they're so delicious I don't really care," he replied, stuffing another huge piece into his mouth and grinning at me.

I snorted. "I can see that." I paused to take another bite. "But the size is just unrealistic. Eating the entire thing is liable to send you into cardiac arrest."

"I actually did finish it the first time I tried one," he said through a mouth full of cinnamon roll before quickly swallowing. "Gotta admit, wasn't my brightest idea. I felt sick for the rest of the day."

"It really is good, though. Thank you," I said, taking a drink of my coffee. "It's unfortunate that I won't have enough time to bring it back to my dorm before my first class."

"Oh, I can keep it here for you," Hope suggested. "You can come back to pick it up later."

I was silent as I considered his proposition. I knew I wouldn't be able to finish the thing before it was time for me to leave, so taking him up on his offer would allow me to save it for further enjoyment – something I could look forward to after a long, dull day in class. I nodded and scraped some of the frosting off the top of the cinnamon roll with my fork, then licked it clean.

"Sounds good. I'll leave it with you then," I said, following his gaze and suddenly becoming perplexed by his expression.

His eyes were glued to my right hand, staring longingly at it like he was day dreaming. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the intensity of his stare causing me to drum the fingers of my left hand restlessly on the surface of the table as I racked my brain for a means of transition to escape.

I found one in the form of my cinnamon roll container.

I slapped the cover shut, making Hope jump and successfully pulling him out of his trance. I stood swiftly, the legs of my chair scraping harshly against the floor, and dusted imaginary crumbs off the front of my uniform. In a flash, I had collected my books and coffee and was moving toward the door before I knew what was happening, my thoughts scrambled.

"Thanks again," I called over my shoulder as I paused briefly in the doorway, refusing to look directly at him. "I'll see you later."

As I hurried out of the clinic, a little voice in the back of my mind tried to convince me otherwise.

What the hell am I getting myself into?