Kissing Battle 2007
Posted by KJ on the 18th of May, 2008 at 6:20 pm under Uncategorized. This post has one comment.These eight ficlets were written for the August 2007 Final Fantasy Kissing Battle sponsored by bottle-of-shine. Pure fluff, pure fun. I particularly enjoyed the opportunity to play with characters and pairings that I would normally never touch (including the Final Fantasy 12 fandom).
- FFX
- FFX-2
- Baralai/Gippal, take one
- Paine/Nooj
- Baralai/Gippal, take two
- Beclem/Yuna (yes, really)
- FFXII
Paine lifted the tent flap and there they were, locked in a kiss and oblivious to the noise of cadets making camp around them. Baralai’s headband was pushed back so that his hair stuck up even more than usual, his coat flung in the corner, Gippal’s guns tossed atop it. Without a sound, she stepped inside and let the flap fall closed behind her, then cleared her throat loudly.
They leapt apart, almost knocking over the center pole in the process, and Paine bit her lip to keep from smiling. Baralai attempted to straighten his hair; Gippal adjusted the half-unbuckled belt across his chest, then scratched the back of his head.
She raised an eyebrow at them, all mocking seriousness. “No wonder you got the tent up so fast.”
“Um.” Gippal cleared his throat after casting a swift glance at Baralai. “Uh, you see…”
Unable to hold back any longer, she grinned, then laughed at their twin expressions of astonishment. “All I can say is, it’s about time.” And she slipped out of the tent before they could respond, leaving them to their moment.
After wresting her camera from Gippal and returning it to the bag, Paine walked back to the rail of the boat and stood next to Nooj, subtly threading her fingers through his. Then he lifted his arm and draped it around her shoulders.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “In public?”
“No one is here,” he answered, matching her teasing tone. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that he was right — even Baralai and Gippal had gone off somewhere. When she looked back at him, he was smiling. “But even if they were, it wouldn’t matter. You’re off duty. Relax and enjoy yourself.” He dipped his face to hers and caught her mouth in a soft kiss. She tasted the salt from the sea spray on his lips.
He lifted his head, and she brushed the hair from his eyes. “Aye, captain.”
Nooj chuckled. “You like calling me that, don’t you.”
She lifted her free hand from the rail and curled it around his neck. “If you’re very, very good, maybe I’ll call you that all night.”
He laughed out loud, the rich, musical sound thrilling her all the way to her toes. Before she could recover, he kissed her again, more demanding this time. She sank into the moment, letting all the sensations wash over her — the swell of the ocean, the wind on her cheeks and in her hair, his strong arm around her waist.
After a long, perfect moment, she pulled away and exchanged a smile with him. Then she turned back to the sea and the sky as he pulled her tightly against his side, drinking in the glittering stars and the total peace. With a soft sigh, she leaned her head against his chest and prayed that the voyage would never end.
Yuna stepped off the bridge and through the door. It slid shut behind her as she closed her eyes and sighed. Cid hadn’t said much to her, but it had been an emotional meeting all the same, her mother a real presence on the bridge even though her name had never been mentioned. After this was over, she hoped to have a chance to sit down and have a long talk with her uncle.
After, she thought, turning the word over in her mind. There was going to be an after. She wondered how long it would take to get used to the idea.
“Yuna.”
Startled, she opened her eyes. “Sir Auron? I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there.”
“It’s all right.” He raised his head to look straight at her, the good eye unblinking over his sunglasses. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, I…” She faltered as his gaze did not waver, seeming to see through the brave front to the turmoil of doubts beneath. Bowing her head under the weight, she said nothing for a time. He waited in patient silence, not even shifting position.
Finally she lifted her head. “I believe what I said in Zanarkand. Every word. But I worry. Would Father agree with my choice? Or was Lady Yunalesca right? Did I scorn his sacrifice, and that of all summoners who came before me?” She bit her bottom lip and looked away again.
A strong hand fell on her left shoulder, and she looked up. He gazed at her still, but this time his gaze was soft, and a little sad. “Your father loved you,” he said. “And he believed in you. He would be proud of you for making your own choices and following your own path. Never doubt that.” He leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead, then backed away and dropped his hand. “You’ve made me proud, and I’m sure he would agree.”
Yuna blushed. “Sir Auron…”
“Now go.” His voice became stern, but not unkind. “Kimahri went to the upper deck and I’m sure he’s waiting for you.”
She bowed. “Yes. Thank you, Sir Auron. For everything.” She turned and walked down the hallway, feeling his eye on her back with every step.
The doors to Djose temple closed with a shudder, leaving Luzzu alone in the courtyard. Exhausted from grief, he wandered away and collapsed at the base of the cliff, head between his knees, fists pressed into the earth. Dirt and small pebbles ground against his knuckles, scraping the already bruised skin. He clung to the pain, took it as the penance he deserved for defying Yevon.
“Hey.”
He raised his head just enough to see Elma approaching him, her face wan, a deep scratch along her cheek. “You’re hurt,” he said.
She lifted her fingers to the wound. “Not too bad.” She knelt in front of him and lightly lifted his right hand from the ground. “But those look painful. Been to the healers yet?”
He pulled away. “I’ll be fine. All I need is some rest.”
“Yeah, I guess we all do.” She shifted to a more stable stance and cocked her head to the side. “You sure you’re okay? You look awful.”
Rolling his head on his neck, he met her dark eyes, heavy with a sadness that mirrored his own. “Given how many people died today, you think I could let Gatta go. But…”
She nodded, solemn. “It doesn’t seem less. It seems worse. You feel responsible for him. I understand.” Her eyes flicked downward. “We lost all the chocobos but one.”
Luzzu’s shoulders slumped at this difficult news. “I’m sorry. That must be–” But before he could finish the sentence, she leaned forward and kissed him.
His eyebrows snapped up in surprise as she pulled away. “What was that for?”
She raised her eyes to meet his again. “You looked like you needed it. I know I sure did.”
Luzzu sat up straighter and lifted his hands to her shoulders. “You may be right.” He pulled her in and kissed her back, lingering on her lips — soft, warm, very much alive. Reluctantly, he pulled away, and she smiled at him.
“Now, about that healer,” she said.
“I think this will do me more good,” he murmured, leaning in again. This time there was no surprise as he leaned her back against the cliff, wrapped his arms around her, and willed himself to concentrate only on this moment, to forget everything that had ever come before.
The sand swirled around Baralai’s face as he hitched the collar of his coat up a little higher. “Only you,” he grumbled, “would insist on hunting for dinner in a sandstorm.”
Gippal rolled his eye. “This isn’t a sandstorm! It’s just a little breeze. C’mon, I think I saw something over that way.” He drew his pistol and strode forward, forcing Baralai to hurry behind him.
After a few more minutes of walking, Gippal pulled up short behind a sand dune that looked, to Baralai, like exactly every other sand dune. He searched in vain for any sort of landmark. “Here?”
“Yup.” Gippal gestured to the right with his pistol, then holstered it. “This looks like a nesting grounds. So now we just have to wait.” He turned to Baralai and cocked an eyebrow. “Could be awhile. Any thoughts on how to pass the time?”
Annoyance and amusement warred for supremacy, but amusement won out, and Baralai laughed. “Only you would think that the middle of the Bikanel Desert is the best place for–”
Gippal shut him up with a kiss.
Beclem looked up from the papers he was pushing around the table. “What are you doing here?” Yuna paused in the hall of Youth League Headquarters, then turned into Beclem’s office. He looked different with his helmet off, she decided. Looser, less polished, his shoulder-length auburn hair sticking up every which way, as though he’d been running his fingers through it in frustration. “Picking up Paine. We’re headed for Zanarkand to search for spheres.”
He scowled, then stretched. “So. Paine got that mission. I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Jealous?” Yuna raised a teasing eyebrow.
Beclem shrugged. “Sharing the meyvn’s bed must come with some perks. That’s just the way it is. Never mind that I’ve known him longer, and have been buried under paperwork for months now.”
Yuna bit back an angry retort. “I think it has more to do with having access to an airship.” She glanced around the office and noted that he wasn’t exaggerating about the papers; they cluttered every available surface, almost every stack weighed down by a sphere recording. “You could join us.”
As soon as the words came from her mouth, she regretted them. Not because she didn’t mean it. But Rikku would likely kill him. And she didn’t think Paine would be too happy to have him along either.
Beclem barked out a laugh that seemed more stunned than anything else. Then he looked at her, sideways. “You’re serious.”
She nodded. “We all got off on the wrong foot in a lot of ways, back in Besaid. If we’re going to work together to rebuild Spira, maybe we should take some time to get to know each other better.”
“Huh.” He turned for a moment, stared out the window, tapped his fingers against his desk. Then he looked back at Yuna and, to her surprise, smiled, the expression transforming his face. “Thanks for the offer. But I really can’t get away right now.”
“All right.” Without giving herself time to think, Yuna crossed the small room and dropped a light kiss on his cheek. “Perhaps another time.”
He stared down at her, his smile fading into shock. He didn’t seem displeased, however, and a dozen butterflies made a sudden appearance in her stomach as she met his pale blue eyes. “Yes. Perhaps.”
Suddenly awash in awkwardness, Yuna stepped backwards into the doorframe. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you.” And before she could do anything dangerous, she fled from the room.
She turned around and saw Larsa standing there, hands clasped behind his back, dwarfed by the soaring ceilings of the Imperial Aerodrome. Basch was a few steps behind him, at the side of the stretcher that held Gabranth’s body. Her heart ached for them both, but especially for Larsa — how awful it must be, to lose his father, his brother, and now his protector in such a short time. She remembered what that felt like. She took a step closer to him and smiled sadly. “Are you leaving?”
He nodded. “I must return to my place and take up the duties before me. The people of the Empire will need strong leadership more than ever; it falls to me to learn how to be that leader.” He reached out and took her hand, bowing over it to place a courtly kiss on the back of her fingers. “But I will miss you.”
Penelo smiled despite the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes. “I’ll miss you, too.” She bent down and hugged him, brushing her lips against his cheek. “I know that your life is going to change now. But still, I hope I’ll get to see you again someday.”
Larsa bowed again. “You will. I promise. The palace doors are always open to you. And if you ever require anything of me, you need only to ask.”
“Thanks, Larsa. For everything.” They shared a sad smile, and then he turned to go, trudging down the walkway at Basch’s side, looking as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.
Running silent, Fran had dropped him onto the roof of the palace, and now Baltheir made his way along the ledge, counting windows until he reached the room he sought. It hadn’t been easy, evading the extra patrols set up in advance of tomorrow’s coronation, but that had just given him extra incentive. It was tonight, or never. Carefully, he inched up the window frame and slid inside the room.
Ashe looked up from the table where she sat, reading by candlelight. She stared straight at him, eyes regal, cool, and Balthier felt his pulse kick up a notch. Had he only imagined the words “SAVE ME” inscribed in invisible ink between the lines of every letter she’d written? Had he merely been looking for the thing he’d hope most to see?
Still unsmiling, Ashe rose from the straight-backed chair and crossed the room. “Unlike the sons of Archadean nobility, sky pirates aren’t known for their subtlety. I’ve always wondered which you really were, deep down.”
Balthier swept his arms as he bowed, the motion practiced and perfect. “And what conclusions have you drawn, your Majesty?”
She was near enough to touch now. “You’re both, of course.” After taking that last decisive step, she closed the gap and kissed him. His hands drifted to her waist and drew her close.
Then she pulled free. “About time. Now get me out of here.”
At last he allowed himself a smile. “With pleasure, my lady.” And he led her to the window, showing her the way to one night of freedom.
Submit Comment