Final Fantasy VIII
The GF With The Machine Gun
By Sephiroth
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII and all characters
therein are owned by SquareSoft. All rights are
theirs and not mine. I am not getting any money
for this endeavor, though my husband is keeping
my supply of mechanically separated chicken
well-stocked.

No Moombas were harmed in the making of this
fic.
--------------------------------------------------
-Chapter One-
-How Tragedy Befell The Great City of Esthar On A Cold 
Winter's Day and the Heroism of the President's Son.-

To call Esthar anything less than magnificent is to utter a
lie. The city spanned many miles. Its towers, silver, platinum,
and glass, shimmered brilliantly in the sunlight; a testimony to
the people who worked and lived in its paradise.

The ruler of this paradise was a youthful and energetic man
named Laguna Loire. In his younger days, he had longed to
be a journalist. But life had thrown him many curves. The 
destinies of two peoples overshadowed him and made him
their savior.

Esthar was one of these two places. Before Laguna came
the city had been ruled by the tyrannical sorceress Adel. 
Her wrath and cruelty were well-known throughout the city.
Men of science worked under the yoke of her oppression.
Dejected, thier dabbled half-heartedly on projects they might
otherwise have attacked with great enthusiasm.

Then the man with the machine gun had come. Just a simple
man whose broken heart yearned for a better world. Seeing the 
pain in the eyes of the denizens of Esthar, he  could not just
stand by and do nothing.

Unable to kill Adel, Laguna had devised a trap and had 
ensnared her. The trap had been sent out into space where its
deadly cargo could not be freed. Or so they had believed. 

The people of the city had then rewarded the man who had
saved them by making him their first President. He hadn't come
for such thing. He hadn't saved them for that reason. He had a
family in Winhill. A pregnant wife and a daughter he wanted very
much to get home to.  But he couldn't just leave these people
with no guidance. In the end, he agreed to stay one year, to help
the people of Esthar get back on their feet.

That had been a lifetime ago. His son's lifetime. 

Raine Leonhart-Loire's life ended with the first breath of son's. 
Her father, disapproving of Laguna, had signed her maiden name
upon the boy's birth certificate and had sent both children to live
at an orphanage. He wanted no part of the man named Laguna. The
man had broken Raine's heart and her father would never forgive him.

Laguna had not been told of his wife's death and  had ridden home at
the end of the one year to spend his days with her.  

He had knocked on her door when he arrived, expecting a warm hug
and soft kisses. Instead, the door was opened by an elderly woman. 
The scent of gingerbread hung in the air behind her. It smelled good
and he smiled a moment. Perhaps Raine had hired a nanny?  

"Can I help you?"

This was troubling. Surely she must recognize him from the picture of
Raine and himself. A rare frown crossed his face.

The old woman's face took on a look of pity. "Oh, you were the husband
of the woman who used to live here."

Used to? Raine must have found a bigger place. It made sense now that
they had two children.

"Could you tell me where she moved to?" Laguna asked. He wanted to
see Raine again, to kiss her and hold her in his arms until morning. 

"Nobody told you, did they?"  The woman's face held an expression of
such sadness and pity that it seemed as if she might weep. "She passed
away when her child was born."

Laguna's heart shattered with those word. He dropped to his knees in
grief and buried his face in his hands as sobs wracked his body.

Unable to bear the sight of the place he once called home, he had 
returned to Esthar, leaving his children in the custody of Edea Kramer.

That had been twenty years ago. Today was Squall's twentieth birthday.
Fate had rewarded Laguna's suffering a year ago on this date by returning
his children to him; and so his reasons for celebrating were two-fold. 

He hummed quietly as he stepped out of his car and began to cross the
parking lot at the mall. The tune was one he'd heard long ago. A song
written for him by the first girl he'd ever loved. He'd lost her in the cruelest
way. Another man who had also loved her had sent Laguna on a mission
that had almost cost him his life. Then, when Laguna had not returned, the
other man had told Julia (that was the woman's name) that he had been
killed. Julia had grieved, the death of her shy soldier breaking her heart. And
the man had comforted her. Julia had fallen in love with the older man, unaware
that he had planned for Laguna's death and they had married. 

Julia had died in a car accident only a few years after the marriage. She had 
been visiting Winhill at the same time as Laguna and had seen him running
from a house. Blinded by tears, Laguna had not seen her. 

That had been fortunate, he considered as he thought about what his son 
might want for a gift. If Laguna had seen Julia at that moment, he would have
gone mad with grief. For at that moment, with her eyes focused upon the man
she had believed to be dead, her car had crashed into a large mansion. She had
died instantly. 

A blinding white flash of agony struck him, causing him to arch his back with a 
scream and sending him to the pavement. He tried to stand, but could not move
his legs. Paralyzed from the waist down, he summoned a GF to deal with the beast
that had attacked him.

Squall Leonhart felt one of his GF being summoned and raced outside the mall to
help his father. He had come to the mall to buy a present for Laguna. The man
was a pretty good father, after all. Now he was racing to help him. 

Laguna watched the battle fade in and out and realized, with regret in his heart,
that he was about to die. He tried to summon Griever one final time, but his mind
and body were no longer able to bear the burden of such a summons. 

Squall attacked the creature who had brought down Laguna. He cast spell 
after spell and struck it with his gunblade.

Dying, Laguna concentrated with the last of his fading will upon the dogtags he
wore about his neck. Taking them off, he tossed them to Squall. Then Laguna
Loire sank back onto the pavement and breathed no more.


(TBC...)








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