Drift
Title: Drift
Fandom: FFX-2
Characters: Wakka/Lulu, Rikku, Vidina, Paine
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Format: One-shot
Status: Complete, unpolished, spellchecked cause it's really late at night, and guess what, I kinda really don't care. Some things aren't meant to be perfect except my luscious, booty-licious derrière. Apparently I got caught with my pants down! DESOLE!
Words: 2455
For: bottle_of_shine
Summary: Lulu and Wakka struggle to deal with their relationship.
Author's Notes: Okay. So, FFX-2 has a few rubs for me, and one of them is this whole Wakka/Lulu wtfEVAR crap. Like them together or not, their relationship is more brother-sister in FFX and then Square decided that three's company but four is just a naked pillow fight waiting to happen, and Lulu had to be ousted from the tea party by getting crazy knocked up by Wakka. I don't like it, always thought it was a messy way to handle loose ends, and my brain will fight the notion of them being together for the rest of my life. So, because CANON =! GOOD IDEA or RIGHT IDEA or SMART IDEA or CLEVER IDEA, this fic was born. Just because it's canon doesn't mean we have to follow it - all good things must come to an end, and I'd rather not be some sort of canon-thumper on my pulpit of elitism! Keeping in mind I haven't slept yet and it is very late and I have to leave for school in thirty minutes, I'm not exactly in a level frame of mind right now! And I think I just linked to a picture of my ass (insert O NO I DIDN'T moment)! ALAS. You suffer. ;) Enjoy? I mean the fic, SRSLY.
Drift
A one night stand somehow turned into three, and a month later he caught Lulu bent over a prickly-grass stand, wiping her mouth clean. Guilt overwhelmed him then, exactly as it had when he'd moved over her, fingers wrapped in her braids and wishing they would morph from jet to sand. It never happened, and her nails scraped down his back as she murmured words of encouragement in a grown woman's voice. Wakka hated himself, but more than anything he hated her and the growing bulge that swayed her back and brought her closer to them as they were driven further apart.
“For the child,” she'd said one night, laying so close to him he could hear her eyes open and close in the darkness of their home. Her hand was an inch from his, and Wakka hesitated, before taking it, stroking his fingers over her smooth skin. It was perfect, unblemished, un-freckled, and so unlike the machina-roughed mitts that were diving into his pockets whenever Rikku came to visit. The little blonde was convinced he was always hiding sweets in his pants, and ever since Lulu had come up pear shaped he'd had to push Rikku and her naughty-nice-grin away.
So Wakka stayed, hands tied and not willing to let Lulu face life alone when he went running and chasing the sunset. He cared for her, always had, but bitter-sweet date wine made laying down next to her easier, and he was slowly working his way through the supply they kept. He was just lucky she was abstaining from any sort of intoxicants for the baby's sake, and so didn't notice the depleting contents of the bottles. There had to be something beyond his friendship with Lulu that had strayed past brother-sister into something a little more twisted. Being with her was both mind-numbing and spine-tingling and horrifying in some way, and the sad part of himself settled down and tried to convince him this what he had been put on Spira for.
She paid no attention to his moods, or at least, ignored them politely as had always been her way ever since they were children. Her focus was on her belly, and the child growing beneath her navel, as she glowed with health and the promise of life.
It was a promise he'd never meant to make. He was eaten up and out by his guilt for wishing away something that he'd longed for, even if it twisted inside him that'd he'd wanted a different ending to this sort of story, one that had little bright-pepper-haired children with swirling eyes.
He hadn't been in his own little world with Lulu, at least he hadn't wanted to be, no matter what he'd overheard Rikku saying somewhere in front of them. He held Lu just the same, fingers stroking through her midnight hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. There was such a burning within her that he didn't know how her skin contained the fire; it was something deeper than her mage powers, something more profound. He wondered how long it would be before it would erupt as she lay next to him in bed, and fooled by his slack posture, began to cry.
/
Wakka's feet dangled in the waters off the dock, Vidina curled in a shaded basket beside him, as fish avoided his cleverly disguised hook. Rikku had stopped by for an extended visit to 'help Mommy out for a bit' and he was finding he had to take himself further and further out of the village to get peace from her laughter and smile and brightly-painted nails.
Lulu was napping away the afternoon as she still tired easily, and he had to work to ignore the playful shrieks of children as Rikku played nursemaid on the beach to a gaggle of the villager's offspring. It was difficult, everything was difficult. Sleeping next to Lu, feeling the warmth of her body so close, when across the room Rikku shifted restlessly with wild dreams of adventure and freedom and recklessness.
Wakka had just begun to taste it when responsibility and the folly of his own actions had come home to roost in Lulu's belly. He had just started to lift his head and find the wonder in Spira without Sin, without Yevon, without penance and humility and homilies on good behaviour. He wondered if Lulu felt the same as him, but even she had always moved in time to a different echo of the teachings. Unorthodox and forbidding, she was even more withdrawn now. It twisted and hurt.
Feet pounded down the dock and a slim body folded next to his. He swallowed hard and tried not to look over. The edges of her straw-woven hat nagged at his peripheral vision and he twisted a little. Sun dappled freckles all over her shoulders and nose and, well, everywhere he wanted to kiss and mouth along.
Vidina cooed, and he snapped his mind back with a guilty start as Rikku smiled at him and then the baby, twisting the basket and tapping the tiny boy on the nose with one finger.
“Lucky you, mister,” she said to him, “'cause your daddy's gonna catch you a big fish. Too bad you can't eat it, but I'll eat your portion for you, so don't feel super guilty or anything.” She tilted her head up and looked at him, and he reached forward, brushing hair across her forehead and behind her ear, pushing the ridiculous hat back and trying to look at her properly. She was so open where Lulu was closed, and while it wasn't fair of him to make comparisons, he couldn't... help... but...
Her eyes sank closed like the sun in the evening, and his caresses continued, fingers brushing along the curve of her ear, down the line of her jaw, across the slope of her nose and cheeks, teasing along her lower lip-
Her mouth parted and she reached up, grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand away, eyes popping open as his line gave a jerk, signaling a catch.
“I-I'll take Vidina back to Lulu,” she said, quick to get up to her feet, her clever hands wrapping around the basket handle and lifting the little boy up and balancing it on her hip. He swallowed hard again, and watched her walk back down the dock, noting the way her eyes were on the baby and the basket and the ground and the other children all at once.
His line jerked again, and he pulled it up only to find the bait gone along with the fish.
/
Lulu was waiting for him when he got back, a basket of water-soaked reeds in her lap that she was slowly braiding into long plaits to be sewn into flat mats. She looked up as his feet beat on the dirt path, a slow smile on her face. Her hand brushed the empty bench next to her, and he sat, confused and heart-worn.
Her fingers nimbly worked over and over, whipping through the dark-gold plants and transforming them into something delicate and beautiful from the rough and un-hewn.
“This...” she said, with a slight shake of her head, “is not what we had wanted.” He felt his heart drop into his stomach, and he steadied himself with one hand on the bench. Her face turned to his, eyes shadowed with the exhaustion of breast feeding and keeping a household together. He tried to speak, but he felt as if he'd swallowed his tongue, or perhaps left it back a the docks.
Her hands abandoned her work, and Lulu leant forward, clasping his face gently and moving to kiss his cheek with slow, gentle care.
“You have been very strong for me, and I have been brave. We tried, and no one can say otherwise.”
His head spun and he tried to shake it, but the world dipped, making him feel as if it was a very bad idea to try anything.
“Lu-” he started, but she hushed him with the tips of her fingers.
“There is no shame in ending this pilgrimage.” Her eyes were earnest, and he felt himself come undone. He slid his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in the soft braids he'd always wished had been the colour of sunshine, and suddenly could appreciate them for the way they mimicked the mysterious night sky. He felt her tears drip hot-cold on his shoulder, and there was a slight shake to her body against his.
“I need some time, I think,” his words rasped out, more hoarse and scared than he'd meant them to be. He pulled back, and tried to drink in some solace and wisdom from her eyes, tried to search out the Lulu that had been his best friend and his sister, and in many ways, his guardian. She gripped his hands tightly, her skin whiter for the pressure she was putting on them and him.
“As do I, but-” she paused, her shoulders weighed down, and he longed in a painful way to make this easier, make it all easier.
“Do you want me to call Yuna? Yeah? She could help out,” he offered. How could he say that all he wanted was to be far from here until the hurt faded and he could come back with his head held high again. Leaving Lulu behind to the stares and whispers of intolerant villagers was never something he would see himself doing.
“I think I can manage on my own,” Lulu said, and then one of her perfect eyebrows raised, and his cheeks flushed.
“Er, I know... I know your capable, that's not what I meant,” he said, trying to salvage that minor blunder. “I'll be back, you know, don't think I will be away for long, Vidina- well, you know.” She nodded, slowly, a thoughtful look on her face as she resumed patiently braiding the stubborn water weeds in her lap. He got to his feet and looked at her, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, a dizzy feeling surrounding him and at once rooting him so firmly to the ground that he could not move.
“I love you very much, Wakka,” she said, a smile curving her lips as she looked up at him, her hands knotting the end of the braid in a well-practiced gesture. The knot in his throat came undone and he took a step backwards, and then two, before he was running headlong away from their home, and her, and their son and feeling lighter for every footfall.
Somehow the guilt could not weigh him down.
/
It would have been perfect if Rikku had been by herself, waiting on the docks, hair blowing in the breeze and just waiting for him to whirl her around and kiss her and proclaim his love and then they could take to the sky together and everything would be wonderful.
And while that would have stopped him from coming to his senses, whirling on his heels in an ungraceful manner, and hightailing it back to Lulu to shake her by the shoulders, Rikku was not waiting for him.
Or at least, she was not waiting by herself.
He swallowed and then nodded to the silver-haired woman with hard eyes and a hawk-look to her face.
“Paine,” he said by way of greeting, and then turned to Rikku, reaching out to grab her hand and tug it to his chest.
“Wakka-” she said, not at all startled. “Did Lulu tell you I was gonna go?” Paine flicked her gaze out over the horizon.
“Buddy should be pulling up in a few minutes,” she said and then shifted, the point of her sword grating along the uneven boards of the dock. “He didn't want to scare the fish.”
“Go,” Wakka said, ignoring Paine and looking at Rikku, “go where?” Well, obviously, somewhere that wasn't Besaid. Rikku didn't roll her eyes at him, however, a sad smile on her face.
“Sphere hunting,” she said, as she shot an unreadable look at Paine. The older woman smiled, briefly, and turned away, walking down the docks.
“I'm going to go say hello to Lulu,” she said over her shoulder, and disappeared around a bluff. Wakka's grip clenched around Rikku's hands in a desperate, needy move.
“I just-”
“Wakka, don't, you're- owwie.” Rikku twisted her hands from him and they stood there, two feet apart and on different plates that were pulling away from each other slowly. Her breath was coming in small puffs, her eyes searching his, flicking back and forth as if she couldn't bear to settle looking at him so directly for so long. The way she looked at him made him feel lost and he suddenly wanted to be so close and in her arms, filling the hole that Lulu had left. And she would fill it, perfectly, neatly, spilling over the edges of his self and sealing him completely. He knew it without even reaching for her again.
A faint hum in the distance echoed off the surrounding hills, and the birds in the nearby trees fluttered their wings and voiced their dismay as the airship loomed into view. He needed the words to say how he felt, what he felt, and he needed to convey them that moment, or he felt as if he'd never find them ever again. She looked up at him and shook her head once, shoulders dropping an inch.
“Rikku, I want to- what I mean to say is- I-” He beat himself internally as his words stalled.
“Don't, please,” she said, voice unhappy and she pulled away as Paine came around the corner of the bluff. The moment was shrinking and slipping away like sand in his fingers and he wrapped his arms starfish-tight around her shoulders and pulled her in close.
“Let me be there with you when you go and come back,” he said, and it sounded more awkward than he had intended it. Her breath was brushing against his bicep where her nose was level with his arm, and she didn't look at him, filling him with that same scary dropping feeling as flying in an airship. He treasured it, painfully took it all in, because this might be it, might be everything, and he wouldn't take a moment for granted.
She raised her head, eyes meeting his once before glancing beyond at the airship and then back at him.
“O-okay,” she said, and the word was at once full to bursting with confusion and hope.
Fandom: FFX-2
Characters: Wakka/Lulu, Rikku, Vidina, Paine
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Format: One-shot
Status: Complete, unpolished, spellchecked cause it's really late at night, and guess what, I kinda really don't care. Some things aren't meant to be perfect except my luscious, booty-licious derrière. Apparently I got caught with my pants down! DESOLE!
Words: 2455
For: bottle_of_shine
Summary: Lulu and Wakka struggle to deal with their relationship.
Author's Notes: Okay. So, FFX-2 has a few rubs for me, and one of them is this whole Wakka/Lulu wtfEVAR crap. Like them together or not, their relationship is more brother-sister in FFX and then Square decided that three's company but four is just a naked pillow fight waiting to happen, and Lulu had to be ousted from the tea party by getting crazy knocked up by Wakka. I don't like it, always thought it was a messy way to handle loose ends, and my brain will fight the notion of them being together for the rest of my life. So, because CANON =! GOOD IDEA or RIGHT IDEA or SMART IDEA or CLEVER IDEA, this fic was born. Just because it's canon doesn't mean we have to follow it - all good things must come to an end, and I'd rather not be some sort of canon-thumper on my pulpit of elitism! Keeping in mind I haven't slept yet and it is very late and I have to leave for school in thirty minutes, I'm not exactly in a level frame of mind right now! And I think I just linked to a picture of my ass (insert O NO I DIDN'T moment)! ALAS. You suffer. ;) Enjoy? I mean the fic, SRSLY.
Drift
A one night stand somehow turned into three, and a month later he caught Lulu bent over a prickly-grass stand, wiping her mouth clean. Guilt overwhelmed him then, exactly as it had when he'd moved over her, fingers wrapped in her braids and wishing they would morph from jet to sand. It never happened, and her nails scraped down his back as she murmured words of encouragement in a grown woman's voice. Wakka hated himself, but more than anything he hated her and the growing bulge that swayed her back and brought her closer to them as they were driven further apart.
“For the child,” she'd said one night, laying so close to him he could hear her eyes open and close in the darkness of their home. Her hand was an inch from his, and Wakka hesitated, before taking it, stroking his fingers over her smooth skin. It was perfect, unblemished, un-freckled, and so unlike the machina-roughed mitts that were diving into his pockets whenever Rikku came to visit. The little blonde was convinced he was always hiding sweets in his pants, and ever since Lulu had come up pear shaped he'd had to push Rikku and her naughty-nice-grin away.
So Wakka stayed, hands tied and not willing to let Lulu face life alone when he went running and chasing the sunset. He cared for her, always had, but bitter-sweet date wine made laying down next to her easier, and he was slowly working his way through the supply they kept. He was just lucky she was abstaining from any sort of intoxicants for the baby's sake, and so didn't notice the depleting contents of the bottles. There had to be something beyond his friendship with Lulu that had strayed past brother-sister into something a little more twisted. Being with her was both mind-numbing and spine-tingling and horrifying in some way, and the sad part of himself settled down and tried to convince him this what he had been put on Spira for.
She paid no attention to his moods, or at least, ignored them politely as had always been her way ever since they were children. Her focus was on her belly, and the child growing beneath her navel, as she glowed with health and the promise of life.
It was a promise he'd never meant to make. He was eaten up and out by his guilt for wishing away something that he'd longed for, even if it twisted inside him that'd he'd wanted a different ending to this sort of story, one that had little bright-pepper-haired children with swirling eyes.
He hadn't been in his own little world with Lulu, at least he hadn't wanted to be, no matter what he'd overheard Rikku saying somewhere in front of them. He held Lu just the same, fingers stroking through her midnight hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. There was such a burning within her that he didn't know how her skin contained the fire; it was something deeper than her mage powers, something more profound. He wondered how long it would be before it would erupt as she lay next to him in bed, and fooled by his slack posture, began to cry.
/
Wakka's feet dangled in the waters off the dock, Vidina curled in a shaded basket beside him, as fish avoided his cleverly disguised hook. Rikku had stopped by for an extended visit to 'help Mommy out for a bit' and he was finding he had to take himself further and further out of the village to get peace from her laughter and smile and brightly-painted nails.
Lulu was napping away the afternoon as she still tired easily, and he had to work to ignore the playful shrieks of children as Rikku played nursemaid on the beach to a gaggle of the villager's offspring. It was difficult, everything was difficult. Sleeping next to Lu, feeling the warmth of her body so close, when across the room Rikku shifted restlessly with wild dreams of adventure and freedom and recklessness.
Wakka had just begun to taste it when responsibility and the folly of his own actions had come home to roost in Lulu's belly. He had just started to lift his head and find the wonder in Spira without Sin, without Yevon, without penance and humility and homilies on good behaviour. He wondered if Lulu felt the same as him, but even she had always moved in time to a different echo of the teachings. Unorthodox and forbidding, she was even more withdrawn now. It twisted and hurt.
Feet pounded down the dock and a slim body folded next to his. He swallowed hard and tried not to look over. The edges of her straw-woven hat nagged at his peripheral vision and he twisted a little. Sun dappled freckles all over her shoulders and nose and, well, everywhere he wanted to kiss and mouth along.
Vidina cooed, and he snapped his mind back with a guilty start as Rikku smiled at him and then the baby, twisting the basket and tapping the tiny boy on the nose with one finger.
“Lucky you, mister,” she said to him, “'cause your daddy's gonna catch you a big fish. Too bad you can't eat it, but I'll eat your portion for you, so don't feel super guilty or anything.” She tilted her head up and looked at him, and he reached forward, brushing hair across her forehead and behind her ear, pushing the ridiculous hat back and trying to look at her properly. She was so open where Lulu was closed, and while it wasn't fair of him to make comparisons, he couldn't... help... but...
Her eyes sank closed like the sun in the evening, and his caresses continued, fingers brushing along the curve of her ear, down the line of her jaw, across the slope of her nose and cheeks, teasing along her lower lip-
Her mouth parted and she reached up, grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand away, eyes popping open as his line gave a jerk, signaling a catch.
“I-I'll take Vidina back to Lulu,” she said, quick to get up to her feet, her clever hands wrapping around the basket handle and lifting the little boy up and balancing it on her hip. He swallowed hard again, and watched her walk back down the dock, noting the way her eyes were on the baby and the basket and the ground and the other children all at once.
His line jerked again, and he pulled it up only to find the bait gone along with the fish.
/
Lulu was waiting for him when he got back, a basket of water-soaked reeds in her lap that she was slowly braiding into long plaits to be sewn into flat mats. She looked up as his feet beat on the dirt path, a slow smile on her face. Her hand brushed the empty bench next to her, and he sat, confused and heart-worn.
Her fingers nimbly worked over and over, whipping through the dark-gold plants and transforming them into something delicate and beautiful from the rough and un-hewn.
“This...” she said, with a slight shake of her head, “is not what we had wanted.” He felt his heart drop into his stomach, and he steadied himself with one hand on the bench. Her face turned to his, eyes shadowed with the exhaustion of breast feeding and keeping a household together. He tried to speak, but he felt as if he'd swallowed his tongue, or perhaps left it back a the docks.
Her hands abandoned her work, and Lulu leant forward, clasping his face gently and moving to kiss his cheek with slow, gentle care.
“You have been very strong for me, and I have been brave. We tried, and no one can say otherwise.”
His head spun and he tried to shake it, but the world dipped, making him feel as if it was a very bad idea to try anything.
“Lu-” he started, but she hushed him with the tips of her fingers.
“There is no shame in ending this pilgrimage.” Her eyes were earnest, and he felt himself come undone. He slid his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in the soft braids he'd always wished had been the colour of sunshine, and suddenly could appreciate them for the way they mimicked the mysterious night sky. He felt her tears drip hot-cold on his shoulder, and there was a slight shake to her body against his.
“I need some time, I think,” his words rasped out, more hoarse and scared than he'd meant them to be. He pulled back, and tried to drink in some solace and wisdom from her eyes, tried to search out the Lulu that had been his best friend and his sister, and in many ways, his guardian. She gripped his hands tightly, her skin whiter for the pressure she was putting on them and him.
“As do I, but-” she paused, her shoulders weighed down, and he longed in a painful way to make this easier, make it all easier.
“Do you want me to call Yuna? Yeah? She could help out,” he offered. How could he say that all he wanted was to be far from here until the hurt faded and he could come back with his head held high again. Leaving Lulu behind to the stares and whispers of intolerant villagers was never something he would see himself doing.
“I think I can manage on my own,” Lulu said, and then one of her perfect eyebrows raised, and his cheeks flushed.
“Er, I know... I know your capable, that's not what I meant,” he said, trying to salvage that minor blunder. “I'll be back, you know, don't think I will be away for long, Vidina- well, you know.” She nodded, slowly, a thoughtful look on her face as she resumed patiently braiding the stubborn water weeds in her lap. He got to his feet and looked at her, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, a dizzy feeling surrounding him and at once rooting him so firmly to the ground that he could not move.
“I love you very much, Wakka,” she said, a smile curving her lips as she looked up at him, her hands knotting the end of the braid in a well-practiced gesture. The knot in his throat came undone and he took a step backwards, and then two, before he was running headlong away from their home, and her, and their son and feeling lighter for every footfall.
Somehow the guilt could not weigh him down.
/
It would have been perfect if Rikku had been by herself, waiting on the docks, hair blowing in the breeze and just waiting for him to whirl her around and kiss her and proclaim his love and then they could take to the sky together and everything would be wonderful.
And while that would have stopped him from coming to his senses, whirling on his heels in an ungraceful manner, and hightailing it back to Lulu to shake her by the shoulders, Rikku was not waiting for him.
Or at least, she was not waiting by herself.
He swallowed and then nodded to the silver-haired woman with hard eyes and a hawk-look to her face.
“Paine,” he said by way of greeting, and then turned to Rikku, reaching out to grab her hand and tug it to his chest.
“Wakka-” she said, not at all startled. “Did Lulu tell you I was gonna go?” Paine flicked her gaze out over the horizon.
“Buddy should be pulling up in a few minutes,” she said and then shifted, the point of her sword grating along the uneven boards of the dock. “He didn't want to scare the fish.”
“Go,” Wakka said, ignoring Paine and looking at Rikku, “go where?” Well, obviously, somewhere that wasn't Besaid. Rikku didn't roll her eyes at him, however, a sad smile on her face.
“Sphere hunting,” she said, as she shot an unreadable look at Paine. The older woman smiled, briefly, and turned away, walking down the docks.
“I'm going to go say hello to Lulu,” she said over her shoulder, and disappeared around a bluff. Wakka's grip clenched around Rikku's hands in a desperate, needy move.
“I just-”
“Wakka, don't, you're- owwie.” Rikku twisted her hands from him and they stood there, two feet apart and on different plates that were pulling away from each other slowly. Her breath was coming in small puffs, her eyes searching his, flicking back and forth as if she couldn't bear to settle looking at him so directly for so long. The way she looked at him made him feel lost and he suddenly wanted to be so close and in her arms, filling the hole that Lulu had left. And she would fill it, perfectly, neatly, spilling over the edges of his self and sealing him completely. He knew it without even reaching for her again.
A faint hum in the distance echoed off the surrounding hills, and the birds in the nearby trees fluttered their wings and voiced their dismay as the airship loomed into view. He needed the words to say how he felt, what he felt, and he needed to convey them that moment, or he felt as if he'd never find them ever again. She looked up at him and shook her head once, shoulders dropping an inch.
“Rikku, I want to- what I mean to say is- I-” He beat himself internally as his words stalled.
“Don't, please,” she said, voice unhappy and she pulled away as Paine came around the corner of the bluff. The moment was shrinking and slipping away like sand in his fingers and he wrapped his arms starfish-tight around her shoulders and pulled her in close.
“Let me be there with you when you go and come back,” he said, and it sounded more awkward than he had intended it. Her breath was brushing against his bicep where her nose was level with his arm, and she didn't look at him, filling him with that same scary dropping feeling as flying in an airship. He treasured it, painfully took it all in, because this might be it, might be everything, and he wouldn't take a moment for granted.
She raised her head, eyes meeting his once before glancing beyond at the airship and then back at him.
“O-okay,” she said, and the word was at once full to bursting with confusion and hope.