DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me no matter how I much I wish they would, but they don't. They all belong to Square-Enix.

I stopped writing fanfiction for a long time. However, after playing a bit of FFX-2, I got an inspiration to write this. Just to share what I believe would be quite a cute pair.

5 years ago.

Theirs had been a tumultuous and passionate affair. How did it end up this way? He had requested for her assistance in New Yevon and she had readily agreed. Nights after nights of working together caused tension and emotions to build up between them before leading to the moment of their joining. Those weeks that he had her in his arms were the best weeks of his life. Yet, she had performed the ultimate betrayal. She had run away from him on the night he was about to propose. With his mother's ring in his hand and a setting that he had spent days to prepare, he was ready. Ready to go on one knee and propose. Ready to dedicate his whole life to worship her and cement their union. She ran away. He had hoped that their union would provide a strong message to the people of New Yevon. He had hoped that she would spend her whole life with him. She had wanted to. All those sweet words from her lips were just lies. When she spoke of her love for him. Lies. When she spoke of her dreams with him. Lies. When she spoke of her time with him. Lies. The irony of it was that he had believed in her, he had trusted her with everything, and she had ended up stealing from him the sacred treasure of the Temple of Yevon.

Never will he believe the words of a pretty girl. Never will he believe in the words of an Al-Bhed. They were all liars.

The glass of whiskey crashed against the panel of the door before Issaru stepped into the room. The entire room was almost entirely cast in darkness, save for the light from the fireplace. The strong scent of liquor fills the air as empty bottles littered the floor of the room. The shadowy figure of the Praetor of New Yevon could be seen seated against the armchair holding a glass. The dark brown liquid was sloshing around the glass as he lifts it up to his lips and takes a gulp.

"Praetor." Issaru stepped forward, "Perhaps you should not drink anymore. I have something that might interest you."

"Whassit...I'm not... inteeressted in anything..." The slurred voice came from the armchair as the cup was emptied before being refilled.

"I have a proposal..." Issaru ventures, "a proposal against the people who had dared steal from us, I just need your endorsement on it." The venom in his voice went unnoticed by the figure in the chair.

"Don't speak to me of that word!" Baralai growled as he lurches unsteadily to his feet. The glass was thrown at Issaru's feet, causing the priest to jump in fright. The bloodshot eyes of the Praetor turned towards the Priest.

Issaru's resolve was firm though his hands shooked with fright. Tilting his chin up, he continued, "VERY well, Praetor. I need your endorsement on this treaty. This treaty would allow New Yevon to seek damages against the Al-Bhed for the theft of our national treasure. I trust you do intend to seek damages against them, don't you?" The words slipped out from Issaru before he could stop them. Though Baralai was too inhibited to notice his slight.

The Praetor moved unsteadily towards the Priest as he snatched the paper and pen from him and scrawled a signature onto it before throwing the paper and the pen back at him, "Iz...that what you want...now leave me alone..." Slowly, he moved back to his armchair and sank into it, staring into the fire.

"That's right. Thank you." Issaru smirked as he bent to pick up the document, "Now we shall see..." Issaru whispered to himself, "We shall see."

Present Time

The sounds of explosion can be heard in the campsite as smoke bombs set off in various areas. The muffled voices of the guards and others could be heard as sounds of fighting ensued. Taking advantage of the chaos, a lone figure slipped into the campsite. Moving stealthily through the smoke-filled area, the goggles and mask on the figure made certain that the figure was unaffected by the smoke. The person had a target that was residing in the main tent of the campsite. The distraction was doing its job. The target was a little away from the main tent, giving instructions to the guards. Moving swiftly, the figure slipped into the folds of the main tent just as another explosion rocked the campsite.

One hour later, Baralai re-entered his tent. Time had changed his appearance and his attitude. There was more grit to the man's features now. His hair had grown almost up to his shoulders. He looked a bit unkempt and unshaven and thinner than before. A decanter bottle was kept near the entrance of the tent as he moved towards it, pouring another glass of whiskey for himself. "Useless... they're all useless." He growled to himself as he downs the glass, slamming it on the table before stalking towards the bed.

His senses were still sharp as he turned swiftly with his staff, allowing the vase to hit its base as his eyes glittered dangerously, "You dare attempt to assassinate me?" He growled as he swings the staff around, aiming at the figure's torso. The figure bent backwards before somersaulting to one side. With its face covered by the mask and goggles and the hair concealed by a hood, the figure was not really discernable. Leaping to the side to avoid another swing of the staff, the figure grabbed a book from the table and threw it at Baralai, which was easily deflected.

The figure ran towards the exit, but Baralai was quick to learn of its intention as he stepped forward, effectively blocking its exit. Baralai charges forward as the figure threw a smoke-grenade towards him. He leaped up into the air and swung his staff like a bat, the swing knocking the grenade out of the tent before the blunt end of the staff was thrust at the figure's belly. There was an "Ooof" sound and the figure was knocked towards the back, slamming against it with loud impact.

Resilience appeared to be the key to the game as the figure stood up and jumped to one side, narrowly avoiding any blow of the staff. Baralai grinned to himself. This person was good. He had only managed to get one hit in. The figure leaped towards Baralai and the back of a fist caught him in his jaw hard. Turning his head towards the figure, he smirked and said, "You think that actually hurt? You're wrong." Though he soon realised that it was simply a distraction for the figure to make its getaway through the exit once again.

Baralai reacted swiftly as he grabbed the whiskey bottle and tossed it towards the running figure as hard as he could. The bottle cracked against the back of the figure's head shattering as the figure drops to the ground. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Baralai moves towards the figure. He kicked away the broken shards of the whiskey bottle as he ignored the blood that was caused by the throw. Bending down he removed the mask and the goggles of the assailant.

It was Rikku.

Baralai stood in shock for a moment as his eye swept over the prone figure of the Al-Bhed. It had been five years since he had last saw her and she had blossomed. Teenager cuteness had now been replaced with a mature beauty. Her cheeks had hallowed out though, making her cheekbones stand out. She looked as though she had lost most of her puppy-fat and had replaced it with the leanness of muscle. His shock was soon replaced by anger as he grabs her by the collar of her garment, hauling her towards his bed, roughly tossing her onto it. Ripping his sheets, he fashioned bindings and bound her hands and her legs tightly. Ignoring the pool of blood that was staining his bed, he turned towards his dresser and pulled out another decanter bottle of whiskey and fills a glass. Bringing the glass over to Rikku's prone body, he tosses it onto her face.

The sharpness and coldness of the whiskey woke her with a start. The pain that laces through Rikku's head was something that was not surprising. Her eyes blinked rapidly through the haze of pain as she looked up towards Baralai and a thin word escapes from her lips, "Baralai." His hand leaped down to gripped her jaw painfully as he hisses, "You're not fit to say my name, Al-Bhed. First you betrayed me and stole the sacred treasure from the Temple of Yevon and here you are, trying to finish what you started by trying to kill me." He leans close to her as he speaks, their faces inches apart.

Ignoring the pain that she was feeling, Rikku mumbles, "A vase...isn't something to kill you with." The grip tightened around her slendar jaw and it seemed as though he was going to break it, such was the strength that Baralai had honed through his years. He sneers, "You still have the time to joke... wait till I bring you out and execute you to be an example to the Al-Bhed people, then we'll see who has the last joke." Executed. Her heart stopped beating for a second as she listens to his words, her eyes looking at him pleadingly. Why had he become so cruel? Her eyes closed as she gives into the pain and darkness. His pillow had now stained with blood. He cursed as she fainted on him, releasing her jaw as he noticed the blood flowing from her.

Turning her head to the side, he gave another curse as he noticed a small shard embedded into her head. Roughly he yanked it out as he clamped his hand over the wound. The blood continued to flow profusely. He looked at her again. Colour had been drained from her face from the loss of blood and her lips were blue. His finger reached out to touch her skin. It was cold and clammy to the touch. "Potion." He muttered to himself, "I need a potion, but first... " He looked around and yanked another ripped sheet as he tied it tightly around her head to stem the blood flow. Laying her down gently, he turned towards his chest of drawers and his whole tent collapsed around him.

"Woooohooo! We've got him, I think!" Gippal crowed in delight as he removed the machina out of the way, looking at the man he had just knocked unconscious with it. Leaving the other Al-Bhed to tend to him, he looked anxiously around and his face turned pale at the sight of the girl lying on the bed. Running towards her, he gently bent to take her into his arms, examining the back of her head as he does so. His face filled with anxiety as he cradled her body close to him, "She's hurt. We need to get her back to the campsite so that we can regroup."

"Boss! What about him? He's not dead yet!" A man called out as he delivered a rough kick to the prone Praetor's body.

"Don't... hurt him... " Rikku's faint voice could be heard from Gippal's arms.

"Cid's girl, damnit...stay still, you're badly hurt..." Gippal says as he moved towards his machine, "We're getting you back to the camp. Yuna will take a look at you." There was silence as Rikku had slipped into unconsciousness again. Gippal cursed as he holds tightly onto her before looking back at the man. He smirked. "Let's take him with us. With the Praetor of New Yevon with us, I doubt they'll dare to launch too many attacks."

An Al-Bhed heaves the Praetor up onto his shoulder as Gippal slipped into the machine, "Allright, let's roll out! Back to the campsite!"