Author: Lipstickcat
E-mail: [email protected]
Pairing: Laguna/Irvine
Rating: G:
Disclaimer: Not mine
***
The Presidential Palace was huge. Irvine was more than impressed; he was in awe. It was his first social visit to Laguna and he was enjoying the opportunity to explore the building without having to worry about screwy Sorceresses trying to take over the world. The others were settling into their rooms before heading to the dining hall for a fancy dinner. Irvine was looking forward to seeing what kind of spread Laguna would lay on, but in the meantime, he was stretching his legs. In a place this size, he�d quickly work up an appetite. As long as he didn�t get lost and miss dinner altogether�
He was walking down a long corridor. On one side of him there were several doors; some open, some shut, leading to various rooms. On the other side there was a wall of glass. He had a clear view over the city. Dusk was just falling, the twilight sky a blend of blues, combining and complementing the neon glow of the streets below. Through the window, he could sense the calm of the city; people were returning home, settling in for the evening. It was still too early for any nightlife to begin and the streets were almost empty and silent. The only noise was the constant hum of technology, and that was a relaxing, soothing sound that surrounded everything in this city like a security blanket.
Irvine stopped as he reached a fork in the hallway. He could either continue straight on, or turn right up another corridor. He decided to choose neither. If he continued much further he was sure to get lost in the maze of passageways. He didn�t want to stray too far from his room, or from those of the others. He was determined not to miss dinner.
Instead, he turned back and stopped outside the first partially open door he came to. Prodding the door experimentally with his index finger, he found that it was well oiled and easily swung open to reveal a large room that looked like a hall. Glancing up and down the corridor to make sure no one would see, Irvine slipped inside.
The first thing he noticed were the thick ropes hanging from the ceiling and, for a second, his pulse raced as he thought that he�d walked into a room that he really shouldn�t be in. Then he noticed the wall bars and the punching bag and realised that it was a gym. A small wave of disappointment washed over him, followed by amusement that he could even think that Laguna would be into anything kinky. He would probably pass out from shock if anyone tried to tie him up.
Irvine walked across the polished wood floor to the punching bag and lightly whapped his fist against it a couple of times. Not really his thing, but he would show it to Zell later, he�d be sure to appreciate it. It was probably Ward�s, he couldn�t see the President using it much. The trampoline pushed against the centre of the wall, however, virtually screamed �Laguna�. Irvine chuckled to himself as he noticed the basketball ring directly above it. He could see Laguna cheating like that.
Along one of the side walls there were several cupboards containing other sporting equipment, such as balls, boxing gloves, rackets and nets. One of the cupboards, this one made of metal, had a lock on it. Curiously, Irvine lifted the padlock up to examine it, only to find that it was undone. Warily, Irvine checked behind him and removed it. Slowly, he opened the doors.
Instantly he could see the reason for the extra security; lining the front of each door there was a mesh, which was filled with assorted fencing foils, sabres and ep�es. The shelves of the cupboard contained jackets and protective masks. Irvine pulled out a foil, the metal of the blade ringing as it scraped against another one. He held the grip loosely in his right hand, testing the balance and feel of it, then bent the end of the blade and let it spring back, getting a strange satisfaction from the action.
It had been years since he�d fenced. It had been part of his training when he first joined Garden. It was standard procedure to give new cadets a taste of all possible weapons so that they could make an informed choice about which weapon they would specialise in. He had looked forward to the lessons, and had truly believed that he was born to be a swashbuckling sword fighter. He had loved the fluid grace of fighting foil and the pure power of fighting sabre. Doinking people on the head was always fun as well.
Then he had begun rifle lessons. He never looked back. The recoil of the gun, the smell of burnt gunpowder; it felt like he had found home. He regretted not keeping up the fencing lessons, but he had been too young to realise that he could specialise in more than one weapon. He poured his whole energy into his rifle training, and it had made him the best there was. But still�
Carefully laying the foil on the floor, Irvine shrugged off his coat and put it neatly against the wall. He put his hat on top. Retrieving the foil, he moved into the centre of the room to give himself more space. He thought for a moment, trying to recall dusty memories of his lessons. He let the grip rest comfortably in his hand, pushing his thumbnail against the padding on the inside of the bell guard. The rest of his fingers naturally curled into place so that he was holding the sword loosely enough to be able to manipulate its movement with his fingers, but firmly enough that imaginary attackers couldn�t knock it out of his hands.
He practised using his fingers to make the tip of the blade bob up and down, then side to side, before making complete circles both clockwise and anti-clockwise. He grinned to himself smugly. Yes, he still had it.
He dropped down into the en garde position, crouching with his back foot at right angles to his front foot, and lifted his left arm for balance. He paused to take in his stance and make sure it was correct. What did you know, all that stuff that his instructor had gone on about �muscle memory� had been true. Even now, he could remember the correct footwork as if it was second nature.
He advanced a few steps, his figure seeming to glide across the room, then retreated from an imaginary attacker. He parried the non-existent blade before advancing again and lunging forward, his counter balance arm extending down as he scored the point against thin air.
He straightened up and nodded complacently to himself. He could wipe out any challengers.
�I didn�t know that you fenced.�
Irvine�s heart jumped into his mouth, and then slowly slithered back down again. He spun around quickly, feeling a guilty heat rising to his cheeks as he saw Laguna standing by the doorway. He hid the foil behind his back, even though he knew that the damage was already done.
�I, uh, I used to,� he managed to get out.
Laguna smiled and walked past him to the cupboard that contained the fencing equipment. He pulled out a foil and examined it, before placing it at his feet and rummaging through the shelves. Eventually, he pulled out a jacket and mask, and tossed them over to Irvine.
�Here. They�re my spares,� Laguna�s eyes raked over the length of Irvine�s body, head to foot, then back up again, �but you�re not much taller than me, so they�ll fit.�
�Thanks,� Irvine said dumbly.
�Well, put them on then,� Laguna was already putting the white jacket on over his shirt.
Irvine blinked and then seemed to wake up. It took a second to remember how to put the protective jacket on, as the sleeves weren�t arranged like an average coat. Putting these things on always made him feel like he was getting into a straitjacket.
�I�ve not done it for years, I�m probably a little rusty,� Irvine muttered as he fumbled with the zipper that ran up the left side of the jacket.
�You looked pretty good to me,� Laguna replied as he walked over. He crouched down by Irvine�s side, his fingers brushing against the cowboy�s as he took the two edges of material from his grasp. He straightened, pulling the zip up with him.
Irvine thanked him, picked up the mask and put it on. Laguna was going through a quick warm up routine of stretching his muscles. Irvine self-consciously copied his actions until the other man stopped.
�Ready?� Laguna�s question was slightly muffled by his headgear.
Irvine nodded in agreement and moved to face him. Laguna raised his blade so that the hilt was in front of his face and then flicked it away elegantly. A soft swish accompanied the action. A vague memory about fencing etiquette flickered through Irvine�s brain and he copied the salute, then dropped down to mirror Laguna�s en garde position.
Nothing happened. Seconds ticked by embarrassingly slowly and Irvine began to wonder if he was supposed to make the first move. Suddenly Laguna lunged forward, jabbing Irvine in the chest before he could even think to move.
Backing up, Laguna lifted his mask. He was laughing softly.
�We�ll not count that one, eh?�
Irvine nodded in agreement, glad that the close mesh of the mask hid the fact that his whole face was burning up.
Laguna dropped the mask down again and prepared for the second round. Irvine was ready this time. He took the initiative and advanced, Laguna retreated in pace with him. Irvine saw an opening and took the opportunity to lunge. Laguna parried, tapping the hilt out of the way and scoring a second hit.
Irvine was irked. He really was rusty; his reflexes needed a little oil. Neither man stopped this time; they just fell back into en garde and prepared for the next round. Irvine gritted his teeth, he was determined to get this one.
This time it was Laguna who took the initiative, Irvine retreated, carefully measuring his paces. As Laguna lunged forward, Irvine copied the older man�s earlier move by knocking the blade to the side and then following through with a lunge of his own. The tip found its mark on Laguna�s lower chest, the blade curving out satisfactorily as Irvine straightened his arm.
Irvine stepped back as he felt a rush of adrenaline flood him. Laguna held the index finger of his left hand up and shouted �one all�.
Several rounds followed, Irvine found that once he had warmed up, he was in fact as good as his ego had lead him to believe and they were evenly matched. The score was six-five to Laguna, the spacious gym echoed with the sounds of harsh panting. Irvine was knackered, roasting and sweaty beneath the mask, but he wasn�t going to be the first to give up. He could match Laguna, move for move.
Irvine made a lunge for Laguna�s right hand side, but Laguna parried it. Irvine made use of the resistance of hilt against hilt, twisting both blades so that his swirled around the other, the metal singing as they rubbed together. He successfully forced the tip of the other blade into the air and scored against Laguna�s mid section. They were even.
�Last point to decide the winner?� Irvine called between heavy breaths.
Laguna nodded and launched into an attack without warning. Irvine retreated, uh-oh, the President was cheating! He must think that he had a good chance of losing. Irvine parried two consecutive and desperate attacks, and them enthusiastically lunged forward. His aim was completely off and the tip of the foil clunked against Laguna�s mask. Unable to halt his advance, Irvine continued forward, the blade bent and then suddenly snapped. Irvine stumbled, the broken edge also smacking the mask, and landed in Laguna�s arms as they both toppled backwards onto the hard floor.
It took a moment for Irvine to recover. He moaned, then realised that his landing had been relatively soft. Laguna�s hand rubbed over his waist soothingly. Irvine hurried to his feet.
�Oh, Hyne! Oh, shit! I�m sorry. Are you ok?�
�Yeah,� Laguna began to stand up, �although I think my butt�s going to hurt for days.�
�I didn�t� stab you or anything?�
�You didn�t win if that�s what you�re asking,� there was a laugh that was cut short when he realised that Irvine was genuinely concerned. �No you didn�t do any damage. That�s what the protective clothes are for.�
�I�m sorry. I broke your foil,� Irvine held up the snapped blade. His voice wavered as he spoke.
Laguna shrugged.
�It happens to all the best,� he paused and then pulled off his mask. He approached Irvine, his hand held out, concern on his face. �Are you hurt?�
Irvine shook his head.
�Good. Go get another foil then, there�s still a match to win.�
He was relieved to see that Irvine turned back to the cupboard and picked out another sword without argument. It was like riding a horse; you fall off, you get straight back on again.
Laguna put his mask back on and waited in position for Irvine, who fell straight into en garde. Irvine stepped forward, so Laguna moved back to maintain a safe distance. Playfully, Laguna let his weapon hand drop, seeing if Irvine would take the bait. Irvine extended his weapon, but as Laguna moved to parry it, Irvine disengaged, flicking the foil beneath the approaching blade without touching it. Laguna�s only choice was to retreat further. Still fully extended, Irvine advanced fluidly, but Laguna tapped the blade to the side, putting Irvine on the defensive.
Sliding back carefully, Irvine parried Laguna�s return attack and snapped his arm forward to get a quick shot in. Laguna dodged backwards and forced the blade away, following up with a riposte aimed straight at Irvine�s shoulder. Once again, Irvine parried, tapping the blade away and instantly attacking back. Laguna moved to parry, but Irvine cut over the top of the foil and the tip found its mark on Laguna�s right shoulder. Laguna groaned loudly.
�Looks like you win this time,� he said with a grin as he pulled the mask off.
�You�ll be wanting a rematch tomorrow I guess?� replied Irvine as he removed his own mask.
Laguna simply continued to smile. Both men�s chests heaved as they fought to regain their breath. Despite a slight dizzy feeling, Irvine felt good. His very skin buzzed with adrenaline. He could go another twelve rounds with Laguna yet.
Tucking his helmet under his right arm, he moved forwards to shake Laguna�s hand with his left hand, as was fencing custom. The other man gripped it firmly. Suddenly, he pulled Irvine to him and forced his mouth against his. Irvine dropped his helmet and foil, the pair bouncing and clattering against the floor. Laguna�s mouth was hot and it worked against his softly, but urgently. A moist tongue swept against his lips and he opened his mouth willingly, his hands automatically rising to clutch onto the older man�s hips.
As fast as it started, the kiss stopped. Laguna pulled away, his balmy breath panting against Irvine�s mouth.
�A prize for the winner,� Laguna muttered, his voice low, half shy, half husky.
�Mmmm� Is that all the winner gets?� Irvine found himself asking, his voice equally gravely.
Laguna pulled back further, stepping out of Irvine�s embrace. Irvine frowned in disappointment.
�For now�� Laguna smiled cheekily as he removed his jacket. �Dinner�ll be ready, and the others will wonder where we�ve got to.�
�And after dinner?� Irvine pulled off his jacket and handed it to Laguna.
�We�ll have to see about that rematch,� laughed Laguna, shutting the cupboard doors and clicking the padlock into place.