Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Love and Duty ❯ Chance, Fate, or Destiny ( Chapter 15 )

Notes and Warnings: Minor spoilers for FFX-2, as it is post FFX-2.
A Gippal/Baralai [eventual] slash, and romancing.
'The Just In Case' Warning: I am ignorant thereof and don't own anything in the legal sector of ownership of: FFX, FFX-2, and all other things. It's ©2003 SQUARE ENIX CO, of course. And I mean ignorant.


Personal Note: Well, thank you for very long wait. Japan was wonderful; I think I've fallen in love with it. I visited Osaka, Kyoto, and spent 8 days with a family in Shingu, and visited so many shrines. I've picked up some of the language, and many of the habits ( ie hand gestures and etc). Despite the typhoon and being stranded at a train station for 7 hours ( which was quite enjoyable, actually, since I was by the ocean) I had a fantastic time. I have only many excuses for updating so late. ( i.e. work, camping, and sleep. Oh, and all the manga I brought back) So thank you again for the long wait. It's a bit of a cliffhanger, beware.

Additional Comment: 'Lai or Lai is Baralai. He's got a nickname.


<<Enjoy Chapter 15: Chance, Fate, or Destiny>>


I tried to stifle my laughter; seriously. But even I was surprised by that outburst from 'Lai. Of course, that was a real mean thing for Tidus to trick him about; but it was probably the only kind of thing that could get past the infamous, and famous, Praetor of New Yevon. Of course, I saw through the little stunt right away; Oh, and was my revenge fitting.
Making the blond sleep in the same bed; even Yuna would be proud of me scaring him straight. Too bad 'Lai wouldn't play along and give him a taste of his own medicine. Besides, it worked all in my favor; revenge, and my nice, cuddly pillow, all in one.

Oouu...I see those mischief sparkling eyes from Baralai. Oops. I think I've been suspected.

"Gippal, dear, I'd hate to think you had something to do with this." I watched as Baralai assumed, 'that' pose.

Heh, busted. I'm in taab cred now. I try to play it smooth, so I scratch my head innocently. "Me? Why would you even think of such things!" I think
my laughter gave me away.

Oh-oh. More trouble. He has 'that' smile. I'm in for it. "It'd serve you right if I fucked you so hard you'd sport a blush so decadent people would reach an orgasm just looking at your face."

Am I blushing? No... Gippal never blushes...it...must be the weather. Is it just me or has it gotten real hot suddenly. Yeah. Y'know the balmy climate in Bevelle; absolutely unpredictable... heat waves can assault just about anyone at anytime...and cred, my face just might be glowing red. And who the hell is this grinning man in front of me.

"Made you blush..." Baralai chittered in my ear, much like a conniving young schoolboy.

"I...er...Cred. Fuck you Baralai." Much better, the capillaries in my cheeks are closing. And I can vent frustration while growling sexy. Ha Baralai, two points.

He shrugs with a seducing grace. "If you say so..." He winks, turning his back to me, walking away. I shamelessly follow his ass like a dog in heat. A sassy Baralai can bring out the animal in anyone... and just look at the neatly piled crates to our left that provide temporary shelter from prying eyes. I look around, grinning a predator's toothy grin, and pounce.

Before you could say 'sex', I had the man pinned behind the large seafaring crates and was working on the lips and tongue that had taunted me only moments before. And oh did he melt and respond against me in such a delicious manner. His lips crashed against mine, his hips rolled against mine, and his hands were pinned above him, rendering him helpless, quite unlike mine. I felt the liquid thrill you get when you dominate, when you take....when you steal those sounds away from their throat, when you solicit those involuntary actions, when you force their hand and make them surrender. Ahh, such is that thrill.

Of course, the other half of that is the thrill of keeping what you ensnared. Truly, you haven't captured them until the struggle is over and they lay desperate and exhausted within your grasp, forgoing all thought and submitting to their body's inticing pleas.

Now of course, with all this new insight you might think, 'Gippal, you're a pervert!'. Now-now, don't be judgmental. I only like doing this to Baralai. I just don't walk up to any girl, or guy for that matter, and be like 'Can I fuck you?' 'Sure!' and walk away with some cheap whore. I have taste, if you haven't noticed my attire.

I chuckle breathlessly into the sweet mouth I plunder. Baralai is trying to execute basic military combat defensive rolls to assume the dominate position. Trying, anyways. So far the success rate is zero. I smile against his throat as he breaks the kiss, panting for air. He's so picky about being in control.

He's always in that box of his. He's a brilliant man but has dire mental issues. Think outside that box, Baralai. You're not always in control of life; you've seen enough horrors to know that. And yet you stay in your protective shell. Someone needs to dig you out from that hole you've hidden in. Be that scared, young, vocal man you used to be. Don't be this tall statue of nothing, piling more and more pressure on yourself until you crumble. Run around in circles, pick daisies; do whatever your heart tells you to do.

He moans softly, closing his eyes and leaning into me. I smile, and turn back to his lips, kissing him softer but with no less an intensity of passion. That's right Love, step outside that box. Take my hand and let me show you the world. It's better out here, isn't it?

I grin again, freeing his hands, letting my own card through that soft, wavy hair. He returns the embrace. I refuse to let my laughter escape from my thoughts as I see the amazement in his eyes. Thought you could only get hurt if you stepped outside that safe place? Didn't think you could find something nice out here too, eh?

I'm still grinning. For two reasons. Maybe three. First off, he's still complacent in my arms; I think the struggle is over, he caught me and now I finally caught him. Second, is that I can't believe he likes me. I have so many things going wrong for me that he could hate me for. But this guy, he just looks at the internal. And my soul must be something pretty for him to be all over me like this. Or maybe I'm just the other half of his heart?

Third...I forgot....it's hard to maintain an internal monologue while entertaining Baralai. I suddenly remembered when I heard that now familiar breathy moan when I burried my hands in his hair at the nape. He has the hots for my leather gloves. I think it's the texture of my cool, machine-calloused fingertips on his skin abruptly changing to warm leather..that sort of textile..shock of sorts. Tsk-tsk, Baralai. The Praetor of New Yevon shouldn't have leather fetishes.

I laugh against his skin again as I imagine him in leather. The Governor of the great city of Bevelle, donned in a skintight leather outfit? I smirk and continue my attentions. Only one place could I get my hands on something like that...Perhaps it's time for my lover to visit Djose...
His hands come to rest against the sides of my face, gently drawing me up to his gaze; he looked me right in the eye with an amused smile on those swollen lips.

"What's so funny? Am I that amusing?"

"What?" I suddenly find coherent speech rather difficult. It might have something to do with the way he was looking at me. With love and lust. Or perhaps it was merely the way he moved so purposefully sensual against me. Or maybe I'm just not talented as Baralai and can't do two things at once. Wait, make that three. His hands are nice and warm this time.

"You've been laughing the whole time. Is it my hair?" He absently tried to blow a loose strand out of the way. It just fell back in place. He raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly as he stared at the annoying pieces of hair.
Well, it did look absolutely gorgeous down around his face. And I swear that was one of the cutest moments, ever. In all Spira. And only I was privy to it. I smile back at him, brushing the hair back and away.

"Nope, it's not the hair that I'm laughing at." Hey. I made a sentence. I think I should get a bazillion points for it. Skeptical? You try making a coherent, witty phrase with a Baralai rubbing up against you. And then I'd kill you because Baralai's mine. Well, not kill, more like 'severely reprimand'.

"What then? It can't be my glowing amber eyes that you find yourself staring into at night that keeps you so amused." So what if I loose myself in those glowing liquid pools. Who wouldn't?

"Actually, it's this." I rubbed my hand against the back of his nape, watching those eyelashes flutter as he relaxed and leaned into the touch.
He chuckles breathlessly and weakly tries to push me away.

" I still don't know your weakness."
I grinned. We were the best at verbal foreplay and mush. "It's right in front of me."

He smiles once he covers from the short shock. "My my, aren't we playful?"

I purred, drawing him back closer to me. "Yes we are." Baralai dodges, seemingly have regained his senses. Darn.

"You know, even if we weren't top political leaders and under constant scrutiny, it still wouldn't be the best idea to be...actively...expressing our 'feelings' quite like this in public. "

I see my own eye widen in reflection of his. Heh heh. I guess I kinda forgot where we were in the heat of the moment...and damn was that heat delicious. I watch as he lifts his eyebrows, and smoothly disentangles himself from me, and turns around, walking away. Shocked,
I stay rooted until the hand still on my wrist tugs me along. Then I see a middle-aged female port worker walk down the dock towards us. Her interest is piqued, but she politely minds her own business. Thankfully for us we weren't wearing all our normal garb; here without all that we're normal run of the mill kids.

His slightly cool hand pulls me right beside him, and we resume our normal walking gait as we stand close, reveling in each other's heat. I feel his hand slip from my wrist, only to twine our fingers together as he pointedly ignores my look. I see him grinning while he looks nonchalantly straight ahead. I let my thumb brush distractingly on the back of his hand. He looks to me then, one eyebrow raised in curiosity, that 'cat-got-the-cream' satisfying smirk still on his face. I return the one eyebrow raised look. I think we're finally going to spend some quality time together.
Because he has that look. That, 'I'm shy, but brazen and determined' look. And those liquid pools that can be like glassy amber when angry, and glowing and on fire...like oil. A low, burning fire that sweeps the countryside. He puts a fire in me. A fire that burns. There's a fire in me. I burn. I burn for him. And I think he burns for me too. Oh how I burn.

Whether it's a dull roar or a sky-high blaze, I always burn. He's stirred the silent ashes of my soul, adding his own potent catalyst that keeps the fire burning. A potent solution that could draw any soul enraptured by it's flames.

I'm a moth...I can't leave that light...every last instinct in my body tells me to go to that tantalizing flicker. To fly through the shadows to enter the light.

But he is like a fire. Though he is strong and creates light, he also does create ever shifting shadows, hiding his dark secrets within his depths. But thankfully, for some reason that fire has seemed to be banked into a roaring flame that only hell could out do. With my fire he stirred...the shadows of both our pasts disappear like the illusions they are.

Yet, my Baralai is like an ocean. Calm and complacent, but in the face of diversity is a force to be reckoned with. His is ever patient; he wears at his enemies foundations until they crumble and fall. Long tan beaches like his skin; frothy sea-foam as white as his hair...and ever changing temper. Yet if you study this natural wonder, you can chart those seas, and find exactly how reliable he can be.

Though, sometimes I muse too much. Call it daydreaming or a wandering mind; My thoughts curl around each other whenever they dwell on my favorite subject. My new favorite subject. My favorite subject used to be machina; but I've found a new hobby. Baralai watching.
I watch him lead his flock. I watch him soar through the clouds, and plummet from the sky. I see him use his quick mind. I see him use his hawk-like eyes. Yet, he's like a well-oiled machine. It won't stop unless it's broken or you pull the plug. That man needs a vacation like...like no-one ever before.

I obviously was oblivious to my surroundings while lost in my musings, for I didn't even realize we stopped walking until Baralai gripped my shoulder tight, hissing my name.

"Gippal..."

I thought I saw anger, maybe fear pass through the darkening, troubled eyes.

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Elsewhere...

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"Isaaru!"

Isaaru firmly embraced his brother he'd only recently made amends with, then backed away, laughing as a blur of color launched itself at him.

"Pacce," he breathed happily, holding the young boy.

"Aww, he's getting too old to be carried around, don'tcha think?" Maroda smiled, mulling over the happy reunion.

"Yes, he is growing up quite fast, isn't he brother?"

Pacce squirmed in his eldest brother's embrace. "I'm a sphere hunter! Sphere hunters can walk by themselves, right Maroda?"

Maroda laughed, and Isaaru gently put his brother down, affectionately patting the unruly mop of hair. Pacce unsuccessfully tried to dodge, complaining to his brothers.

'I'm not a kid! Argghhh! Isa-aru!" Pacce stretched the name out into a six syllable whine.

Isaaru looked back up to his other brother, addressing the former Youth League operative. "I was quite surprised to find you both here; but I should have guessed you Pacce, of all people would be here. Baralai always did have a weak spot for you."

Pacce stopped running around his brother, tugging on the old ceremonial robes. "Yeah, and he let us Kindergaurdians explore Bevelle! We even found this spooky place with spheres and told Lady Yuna about it!" Pacce paused, tugging on his brother's robe. "Why do you still wear this? Lady Yuna defeated Sin a long time ago! There aren't any more summoners!"

Isaaru smiled weakly, peering into his sibling's dark eyes. "That's one of the reasons I still wear it."

Pacce's face scrunched up confused. "Huh?"

Isaaru ruffled the boy's hair once again, choosing to turn his attention to his other younger brother. "Maroda, rumors say you are the chief of security here at Bevelle?"

Maroda grinned roguishly, a prideful light in his eyes. "I'm in charge of Temple security and in charge of any major events the Praetor appears at...so yes, more of the personal Chief of Security." Maroda boasted without humility.

"Last I heard you were with the Youth League...quite a change, don't you think?"

Maroda's smile increased ten-fold. "It seems Nooj and Baralai have some sort of history; they seemed familiar. They struck a bargain. Baralai swapped his head of security for me with Nooj."

"Mutual spies?" Isaaru joked.

Maroda stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Probably," he paused, "but that's not why you're here."

"Why am I here?" Isaaru voiced politely, with a hint of curiosity.

"Don't ask me," shrugged Maroda. "Baralai called for you, not me. He's actually on vacation, and no, I wasn't the one who finally got him out of his office. No matter how many times I tried. Yevon, that man is even more stubborn than the elusive Maestor of the Youth League!"

"When will he return?"

"Probably tomorrow; I doubt he could stay long from that office. Even the days he took off he would run back and check on things. It's like Bevelle can't run without him." Maroda shook his head mournfully. "Sometimes I forget how young he is."

Pacce, tired of being ignored, chimed in. "How old is he?"

Isaaru turned to his youngest brother again. "He's younger than me and Maroda."

Pacce gasped scandalously. "Really?! I thought he was your age Isaaru!"
Pacce's energy seemed to triple with this new information. "How old are you Isaaru, and how old is Lai-chan?"

Isaaru smoothly answered. "I'm twenty-four. By now he must be..twenty."

Pacce scrunched up his nose. "You're old."

Isaaru winced. He wasn't that old, was he?

Maroda chuckled. "Pacce, he's not old. Maester Tromell-"

Pacce's eyes widened in horror. "He's ancient! He's older than a shoopuf!"

Maroda laughed again, shaking a reprimanding finger at his little sphere hunter brother. "Don't go around saying things like that. And besides, Shoopufs can live to be 500 years old! I don't think Tro-"

"-He's like 6 kajillion years old!" Pacce spread his arms wide apart, approximate the long life the wrinkly guado had lived.

"Pacce!" Isaaru scolded.

"What?"

"It isn't nice to-!" Isaaru suddenly seemed short of breath, a dull ache rising in his chest. It disappeared in an instance, but a lingering feel of infinite sadness and...urgency was left in it's wake.

Maroda stared startled and concerned at his brother. "What's wrong?
Isaaru?"

Isaaru regained his breath, shaking his head to remove any misplaced sympathies. "I'm fine...where....where is Baralai?!"

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That anger in his eyes flashed from anger to confusement and into panic. Before I could even do anything, his hands grasped my collar, flinging me out of way. That moment lasted an eternity.

At first his pupils widened so much that his eyes appeared like black vortexes... then they turned glassy as his grip on me suddenly convulsed, and he choked on a word. I didn't even know we were both slowly sinking to the ground until my knees painfully hit the hard ground. It was then I registered the shocking, fierce burn in my right shoulder. I gasped through my clenched teeth, hissing in pain.

I watched in horror as those lovely, rapturous eyes dilated, turning glassy as the delicate lips voicelessly trying to communicate through raspy breaths. I barely registered my blood on him, and his on me, as he slipped from my numb grasp. He fell to his side, unblinking as his skull resounded on the hard surface. But that wasn't the moment that would haunt me for the rest of my conscious, and subconscious life.

As I numbly toppled over to my side, the white noise finally focused into ear-splitting screams, just for a second. Then, as the world around me started to fade into a red mist, and the ice in my stomach churned, I saw it. Those once glowing amber pools now dark, dull crystals. They only reflected the world back. I couldn't see the blazing spirit. In a last attempt to persuade me this was one hellish dream, I mustered all my energy to cover his stained hand with mine, looking for that usual spark that flared at my touch. I only saw my pitiful body in those eyes. I felt nauseous, and simultaneously ready to cry. Before I could endure the sight any longer, time froze, and the world left me in a cold rush.