Jailhouse

It was the third time that week they'd been arrested. Fran wondered absently if Balthier was going for some sort of record. Knowing Balthier, she corrected with a roll of her eyes, he was.

He was grinning as they cuffed him, had Fran spread out against a hard stone wall with all the stolen gold jewelry pressing sharply against her neck and chest.

He was still grinning as the smelly seeq guard frisked her for any hidden weapons and didn't mind where his big, meaty, bulbous, stinking hands wandered. Fran wanted to kick him very viscously where it counted, but Balthier warned her again about violence against guards. It often only leads to violence against oneself, he reminded her with a wink.

She was getting better at rolling her eyes and letting it be.

They sat in the hot cell together, he leaning up against the bars and combing his hair carefully with lithe fingers and she sitting gingerly on what passed for a bed in these parts. She tried desperately not to think of who had also sat there, slept there, played the beast with two backs with whatever cellmate was available. She shuddered visibly, ready to be sick if need be.

"Calm down," he urged her. "It's only a matter of time before they switch the guard. Then we're out of here before you can shake that little tail of yours, Fran." He didn't look at her when he said it, but the stroke of his eyes was all through his words.

She said nothing, crossed her arms, fumed and scrunched up her nose in pure indignation. He laughed, a light song, something almost inhuman.

"Will this be a tradition?" She asked at last, harshly. The tromp of boots passed by, and both waited for the guard to pass before continuing.

"The jail-house?" He asked, incredulous, almost condescending. "We're pirates, it's bound to happen every now and again."

"The best choose not to be caught," she replied with a sniff.

"What's the fun in anonymity?" He asked, folding his hands behind his head and staring at cobwebby ceilings. His eyes strolled casually up and down her thigh, her arms. "And if it gets you to make that delightful face, I'm afraid we'll be caught more often than we escape."

She glared daggers at the grinning, delighted man and, had the guard not taken it off her with his hairy paws, taken her literal dagger to him as well. Would have served him right. This partnership looked to have been a bad choice on her part. Balthier looked as if he couldn't be happier, and, she feared, he couldn't have been.


AN: Hello friends! I've popped back into this fandom for a bit of a project! This Valentine's Day, I have literally nothing to do, so I've decided to pick my 14 favorite pairings and write some sappy vignettes for them! Not all of them will be from one fandom, so if you're interested, check out my profile! I love Fran and Balthier, they just have this weird chemistry where I'm never quite sure where they're coming from. This is somewhere early in their partnership, but I figure Balthier is the kind of guy that doesn't change easily. Tell me what you think, leave some love, and stay awesome!!