FINAL FANTASY XII | kiss my sass {balthier/penelo}
Balthier was somewhat at a loss. Here he was, faced with the same faces he’d traveled with years before, and he had no idea what to say. Because he was surprised at how much they’d changed? Maybe. Because he’d missed them? Possibly.
Because Penelo had just upped and kissed him upon arriving in the hangar? Yes, definitely. Vaan looked a little nauseous, Ashe looked immensely put out, Basche was fingering the hilt of his sword and giving him the evil eye, and Fran?
Fran wasn’t even trying to hide her smirk.
A tug at his sleeve brought him back to the girl he’d originally thought to be quite innocent. Penelo stood in front of him smiling widely, the top of her head level with his nose. He blinked a couple of times and absently fingered the handkerchief in his pocket.
“It’s nice to see you again, Balthier,” she said, still grinning. Ashe muttered something behind them that distinctly sounded “more like assault”. He kept staring at the blonde, and felt his hand twitch when he noticed some of her hair had fallen in front of her eyes. She had rather pretty eyes, from what he remembered.
She kept looking up at him. He gave in to temptation and pushed her bangs back, ignoring Basche’s subtle death threats. Her lids fluttered closed and her eyelashes were thick. When she opened them again, she mumbled, “Balthier?”
He blinked, once, long and hard, to give himself time to think of what to say. Vaan flailed helplessly in the background. Ashe glared so hard the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Fran might’ve snickered.
“I distinctly remember you being shorter,” was what he finally came up with. He dropped his hand from her hair, but let it linger on her wrist. Penelo giggled, not even blushing. When she all but floated over to Fran with her dancer’s grace, he took the time to admire the slope of her waist and the swing of her hips.
“That,” Ashe said, using her jaded-princess voice, “was utterly appalling.”
Thinking she was referring to his friend, and having spent years surrounded by twelve-year-olds, Vaan automatically said, “You’re face is appalling.”
They all gawked at him. He shrugged. “I hang around Kites a lot.”
Ashe grumbled, looking rather affronted, and Fran’s smirk seemed to grow. Basche let go of his sword, finally, but kept glancing at Balthier from the corner of his eye as he tried to explain that Vaan hadn’t really meant it, while Vaan kept cutting in with, “yes I did” and “maybe if you didn’t talk bad about Penelo”.
All in all, nothing had changed. As Ashe finally snapped and started trying to alternate between hitting Vaan with his own shield and glower at Penelo and him, Balthier wondered where the nearest bar was.
Penelo laughed again at something Fran had said, and when she caught his eye, she beamed.
Balthier stared. Okay, so, he needed a bar, and then he needed a room. With a bed. And a pretty blonde nineteen-year-old with nice lips. Shouldn’t be too hard.
As if sensing what he was thinking, Basche’s sword magically slipped out of his hand and impaled the wall next to his head. Balthier shivered and decided he’d need Vaan as a human shield, too.
Because Penelo had just upped and kissed him upon arriving in the hangar? Yes, definitely. Vaan looked a little nauseous, Ashe looked immensely put out, Basche was fingering the hilt of his sword and giving him the evil eye, and Fran?
Fran wasn’t even trying to hide her smirk.
A tug at his sleeve brought him back to the girl he’d originally thought to be quite innocent. Penelo stood in front of him smiling widely, the top of her head level with his nose. He blinked a couple of times and absently fingered the handkerchief in his pocket.
“It’s nice to see you again, Balthier,” she said, still grinning. Ashe muttered something behind them that distinctly sounded “more like assault”. He kept staring at the blonde, and felt his hand twitch when he noticed some of her hair had fallen in front of her eyes. She had rather pretty eyes, from what he remembered.
She kept looking up at him. He gave in to temptation and pushed her bangs back, ignoring Basche’s subtle death threats. Her lids fluttered closed and her eyelashes were thick. When she opened them again, she mumbled, “Balthier?”
He blinked, once, long and hard, to give himself time to think of what to say. Vaan flailed helplessly in the background. Ashe glared so hard the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Fran might’ve snickered.
“I distinctly remember you being shorter,” was what he finally came up with. He dropped his hand from her hair, but let it linger on her wrist. Penelo giggled, not even blushing. When she all but floated over to Fran with her dancer’s grace, he took the time to admire the slope of her waist and the swing of her hips.
“That,” Ashe said, using her jaded-princess voice, “was utterly appalling.”
Thinking she was referring to his friend, and having spent years surrounded by twelve-year-olds, Vaan automatically said, “You’re face is appalling.”
They all gawked at him. He shrugged. “I hang around Kites a lot.”
Ashe grumbled, looking rather affronted, and Fran’s smirk seemed to grow. Basche let go of his sword, finally, but kept glancing at Balthier from the corner of his eye as he tried to explain that Vaan hadn’t really meant it, while Vaan kept cutting in with, “yes I did” and “maybe if you didn’t talk bad about Penelo”.
All in all, nothing had changed. As Ashe finally snapped and started trying to alternate between hitting Vaan with his own shield and glower at Penelo and him, Balthier wondered where the nearest bar was.
Penelo laughed again at something Fran had said, and when she caught his eye, she beamed.
Balthier stared. Okay, so, he needed a bar, and then he needed a room. With a bed. And a pretty blonde nineteen-year-old with nice lips. Shouldn’t be too hard.
As if sensing what he was thinking, Basche’s sword magically slipped out of his hand and impaled the wall next to his head. Balthier shivered and decided he’d need Vaan as a human shield, too.