CELEBRATING THE HOLIDAY EVERYONE LOVES TO HATE*
Fandom: taking back Valentine's Day since 2008!
So last year bottle-of-shine had a Kissing Battle. The last edition is here (EDITED TO ADD: this is the old battle, not the current one!). It was a lot of fun and might be known around FF-fandom circles as the best Meme ever**.
Pretty much everyone I know is stressed about something, too, so this round of the ( Read more... )
So last year bottle-of-shine had a Kissing Battle. The last edition is here (EDITED TO ADD: this is the old battle, not the current one!). It was a lot of fun and might be known around FF-fandom circles as the best Meme ever**.
Pretty much everyone I know is stressed about something, too, so this round of the ( Read more... )
“Are you listening, old man?” Balthier demands, when he’s out of breath. Finally. Basch looks up, and tries to seem busy, but the grin at his lips has just fought successfully for dominance. The pirate is sprawled on the couch in the office of his Bureau’s Chambers, pouting, his cravat askew and his sleeves rumbled, his slender wrists shackled by magicite-threaded cuffs, boots hobbled.
“Unfortunately,” Basch turns his attention back to case studies before he begins to laugh, “I am sure that the entire Bureau was listening.”
“Get these fucking things off me,” Balthier snarls, raising his wrists, his eyes narrowed and dangerous, and Basch has to suppress a shiver, writing instead. At one point, he consults a company law text, leafing through the pages, and is halfway through an old judgment of Zecht’s when Balthier mutters, “Please.”
“There is no other way to keep you present and well-behaved,” Basch points out amiably. “And you should use the time to repent on your actions. Piracy is a crime.”
Balthier growls, rumbling and silky and low, and Basch knows the pirate is changing tactics. Still, he himself is now used to this game, and at this point in time, he has the upper hand. “You know, when I said ‘catch me if you can’, I did not quite think you would take it literally.”
“Should I not?”
“Certainly not to the extent of abusing your power and position as a Judge-Magister of the Thirteenth,” Balthier says sourly. “We were arrested the moment we set foot in Archades. Or rather, I was arrested.”
“What happened to Fran?” He knows, of course, the Imperials told him. Fran had asked them who had sent them, when they ignored her, and when told, she had simply wandered off.
“She predicted it, though not in so many words. Old man, when you chase a lover, you are not supposed to do so with your bloody toy soldiers.” Balthier does look incredibly put out by the situation, Basch supposes, and has to bite his lip to hide his grin. No doubt by the indignity suffered from being manhandled in broad daylight.
“I would not do so were you less difficult,” Basch said, dipping his quill into the ink bottle, “Or if I had actually possessed the free time to run about after your tail.”
“Fuck you, old man.”
“I can gag you until you are more civil,” Basch says mildly, and puts enough of a hint of threat in his tone to make Balthier squirm. He’ll humor the pirate a little, he decides, putting down his quill, or he’ll never hear the end of it for this visit.
Balthier bites him, when they kiss.
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