The Balfonheim aerodrome was irritatingly overcrowded this afternoon, Balthier thought bitterly. He futzed around with some of the wiring in the Strahl's cockpit, and every time he looked out the front windows, he could see straight across the hangar to where that other ship was docked.
The ship itself was gorgeous. A marvel of Moogle engineering with a sleek frame and engines that were powerful yet nearly silent in the air. If he wasn't so attached to the Strahl, he wouldn't say no to the right price on a Galeforce X-231. But without all the nauseating bells and whistles that shouted to the heavens – "This is a Rozarrian diplomatic vessel! Back off!" Everything was blue. The paint? Blue with light blue trim. The windows? Tinted blue. Even the steps were blue. Balthier had previously been fond of the color, but now the thought of it made his stomach tie into knots.
He picked up a small console and a screwdriver and sat back in his seat. He could do these minor repairs in his sleep, so he fiddled around with the panel and let his attention drift to the sights across the hangar. He thought back on the morning's events. Margrace had made himself at home at Reddas' manse, and he of course had nothing but dire news to relate to them all. And then he took his sweet time saying goodbye. And now Balthier saw that the man's ship had still not departed. The sky pirate wanted the damned fop to leave Balfonheim already. What was taking him so long? There was a snapping noise, and he looked down to see that he'd actually punctured a small section of the panel with the screwdriver.
A throat was cleared behind him, and he sighed. "What is it, Fran?"
"Do you think me some blind fool?" His partner moved to stand beside him, and he tossed the panel and screwdriver onto the console in front of him.
"I don't know what you mean," he replied with little cheer, knowing exactly what Fran meant.
She looked out the window to see Al-Cid's ship across the hangar. "You're jealous." He did not appreciate the amusement in her voice. The Viera picked up the now damaged panel he'd punctured, and she let her fingers run over the jab marks he'd made. "Your eyes today. I suspect even Vaan noticed."
He stared straight ahead, and he could see through the blue tinted glass into the cockpit. The man's little "bird" or whatever undignified name he called her was standing patiently at his side as he held the Princess' hands. Whatever delays were keeping his ship on the ground were enabling a bit more "diplomatic" discourse between himself and Ashe. Fran chuckled.
"Why don't you go ask if you can help?" she asked him, and he looked at her like she'd sprouted a second head.
"Help? I don't want to help him." Balthier moved from his seat and away from the sights visible across the way. Fran followed him back down the corridor.
"He obviously doesn't know how to fix his own ship. It might…prove something if you assisted in the repairs."
Balthier whirled around to confront his nosy Viera companion. "What are you driving at, Fran, hmm? Go over there and humble myself before Margrace? Offer to fix his stupid ship?" It was arguments like these that made him wish he was tall enough to look Fran in the eye. "Not a chance. The Strahl needs my attention, and it appears that His Worship is a bit occupied at the moment."
His partner raised an eyebrow. "You're doing this ship more harm than good at present." She held up the panel again, and he scowled at the circular puncture in the metal. "And it just so happens that Al-Cid is waiting for you."
"Come again?"
He should have known. Fran was endlessly entertained by Hume matters of the heart. She was always meddling in his affairs. She'd been the first to detect that he had more than a financial interest in following the Princess about, and the blasted Viera had been bugging him about Margrace since that day at Bur-Omisace. "I was just over there. It's his skystone generator. I said you'd meet them as soon as you were done with the steering control check." Fran had volunteered him? "And you'd best hurry. I think the Princess needs rescuing."
Balthier threw his hands up in the air and stalked off to the exit, grabbing a spare tool kit from the storage compartment at the end of the corridor. "Ashe can take care of herself!" Heaven forbid the Princess Ashelia be swept off her feet the day before they flew off to face Vayne Solidor.
Fran stood at the top of the stairs as he stomped off into the open hangar. "You will thank me for this someday."
"You're cleaning the Strahl's toilets for the next five years!" he snapped back at her. Why did Fran do this? Tomorrow, unless they all died horrible deaths, Ashe would be able to reclaim her throne. What did it matter if she knew how he felt about her or not? His partner had been rather insistent that he let his feelings be known so he'd at least get it out of his system. But whether he confessed that he was madly in love with her or not made little difference in the grand scheme of things. It would never work out. She had her country, he had the skies. It was best she didn't know.
He put on his most disinterested facial expression and climbed the ugly blue steps into Al-Cid's transport. The interior walls did not have the metallic simplicity of the Strahl. Instead, Rozarrian banners were strewn throughout and the bulkheads were covered with blue velvet drapings. It was more hideous inside than outside. The sound of voices from the cockpit drew him closer, and he tightened his grip on the tool kit. If he was smart, he'd dislodge one of the screws in the life support systems or take a hammer to the guidance systems panel, but those "accidents" could all be traced back to him and then he'd have regicide or some similar crime on his head and his bounty was high enough as is.
Balthier saw Al-Cid first, the man's tinted glasses perched low on his stupid nose and his hands tightly gripping Ashe's. His heart was mollified to see the look of irritation on her face where before she'd looked a bit charmed by Margrace's attentions. Perhaps the Princess had finally caught on that the man was a snake. Sure, he was all "let's promote peace, I am the voice of reason in my backwards country" which seemed to push all of Ashe's political love buttons, but Balthier knew men like Al-Cid Margrace.
As soon as Dalmasca was free and Archadia backed off, he'd be bringing his undoubtedly blue warships to Ashe's door. And he'd probably claim that a marriage of convenience to the almost Queen of Dalmasca would be enough to stave off an invasion. It made Balthier ill to see every person try to manipulate the Princess. Strong as she was, Dalmasca would be in desperate need of friends very soon, and Ashe might see the shaggy prince as an ally.
"…will be dependent on a victory tomorrow," Ashe mumbled.
"But surely a celebration of that undoubted victory would involve a tour of the nations of Ivalice. As a new Queen, it would be an expectation that you pay a visit to my country."
Balthier scowled. He was still bugging Ashe about visiting his damned Ambervale. Word in the sky pirate's closest circles said that the home of the Margrace clan was naught more than a retreat for the philandering family members to take their latest conquests or a nursery for illegitimate bastard children fathered or mothered by said philandering family members. The thought of the Princess in that place, even with a royal entourage, had been keeping him on edge since Al-Cid had suggested Ashe pay a visit there that morning.
"Am I interrupting?" he asked loudly, and Ashe used the distraction to pull her hands away from the lecherous noble.
He tried to ignore the grateful look in the Princess' eyes. Wouldn't do to read too much into that, he figured. "No, Balthier, of course not. You aren't interrupting anything at all!" Was her face turning pink? That was rather unlike her. Margrace raised an eyebrow at Ashe's words, and his dandy face darkened.
"Her Majesty and I were discussing matters of a political nature. A pirate such as yourself would care little for these topics," the fellow retorted, and Balthier was ready to beat the man over the head with his toolbox. Ashe rolled her eyes behind Al-Cid's back, and for that, Balthier was satisfied.
The sky pirate raised an eyebrow. "Well, then I apologize for the intrusion," he remarked mockingly. "I was under the impression that you were in need of mechanical assistance. Guess I have my wires crossed. If you'll excuse me…" He turned on his heel to depart.
Margrace hurried forward then in desperation. "Wait, wait please." Balthier paused and could almost sense the grin on Ashe's face although he couldn't see it. "My skystone generator. Will you check it for me? The Moogles seem averse to repairing without compensation and your bunny friend said you'd require no such financial transaction…"
Balthier was going to have a very lengthy conversation with his "bunny friend" whenever he returned to his own ship. He had to fix this scoundrel's ship free of charge? He even took the Princess' wedding band in lieu of gold or jewels, and he was to send the Rozarrian on his merry way like some indentured grease monkey? He turned around to see an expectant look in Margrace's eyes with a healthy mixture of suspicion marring his bewhiskered face. Behind him, Ashe just seemed happy that Balthier had arrived in the first place.
The sky pirate sighed. "Skystone generator repairs are a two person job. Princess, if you would kindly…"
"That won't be necessary," Al-Cid interrupted then, and he fluttered his aristocratic fingers at his assistant. "Arlena would be happy to assist you." For her part, Arlena seemed a bit put out and looked like she didn't want to leave the cockpit. Perhaps the poor girl had a bit of a crush on her employer? Shame really, Balthier mused, she was actually rather pretty.
Ashe stepped forward and frowned at Al-Cid. "I would like to learn how it is done. I know very little about how airships function," the Princess mumbled. Balthier suppressed a grin as he remembered Ashe fumbling at the Strahl's controls that night in the Bhujerba aerodrome.
But Al-Cid would not be swayed. He grabbed Ashe's hands once more as if he was sapping the life from her through his touch. Balthier knew Ashe needed Al-Cid's assistance too much to snatch her hands back. "Nonsense, my lady. You needn't dirty your hands like some knuckle dragger mechanic." Balthier was seconds from hauling Ashe away like some jealous cave dwelling Neanderthal, and instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"I will expect the second member of my knuckle dragging party to be in the engine room within the next few minutes or you can fly into a mountain for all I care," he complained bitterly and stalked off. He could hear Al-Cid begin to protest at his words, and Balthier knew that his complaints could easily land him in a Rozarrian jail. But the man seemed ridiculously cheap if he wouldn't even hire Moogles to fix his blasted ship, so Margrace would just have to grin and bear Balthier's comments.
Balthier reached the engine room and dropped the tool box on the floor with an angry growl. "Knuckle dragger mechanic?" he muttered aloud to himself. "Lousy aristocratic cad." He pulled the generator panel from the wall and tossed it onto the floor. Fran would clean those toilets with her hair, Balthier vowed. He was dirtying his hands in a ship that was not his own and for no profit. And he'd done a poor job of "saving" the Princess, for she was still stranded in the cockpit with that foppish bastard.
A quick check easily revealed the problem, and he sighed. "A child could fix this bloody skystone!" he moaned and was startled by a throat being cleared behind him. He whirled about to see the dark haired Arlena standing in the archway of the engine room.
"My lord asked me to assist you. How may I be of use?" The poor girl, he thought. She'd probably jump off the nearest cliff if her "lord" asked her to. Rather sad.
Balthier frowned and shook his head. "I was lying, just wanted to get her away from him." Why he was all but admitting his feelings for Ashe to this girl, he had no idea. "He's got his hands all over her."
He turned back to the panel and began to fiddle around with a pair of pliers and listened to Arlena move to stand beside him. "I know," she remarked almost sadly. "My lord is quite taken with her."
The sky pirate smiled and twisted a few wires about. "Not hard to be taken with a woman like that. Biggest pain in the ass I've ever met." Arlena seemed to gasp in shock at his language, but it only made him chuckle. Ashe was a challenge – normally women seemed to fall hopelessly in love with him after one cheeky remark or innocent compliment, but not the Princess. Every flattering comment he made in her presence seemed to infuriate her. He wasn't used to his usual seduction techniques falling flat, and it had thoroughly convinced him that she was a grander prize than any other.
She was the type of woman that was worth the effort in the chase. Which probably explained his current jealous condition – he rarely faced competition. Fortunately, Ashe was already tiring of Al-Cid's hand grabbing and infuriatingly overwrought accent. But no matter. Tomorrow was another day, and it mattered little since he would have to cease his pursuit anyhow. Balthier adjusted a few more wires and tightened a screw here and there. He looked to the girl and was almost surprised by her forlorn expression. "Come on, sweetheart. No need to fret. Her Majesty has no designs on your Lord Margrace, of that I have no doubt."
Arlena rubbed her eyes and blinked. "I suppose. But ever since we visited the Gran Kiltias, he…" The girl began to cry, and Balthier sighed. Perfect. He was now saddled with repairs and a sobbing girl hopelessly in love with someone far beyond her station. The sky pirate imagined that Al-Cid would probably get a child or two out of her in the years to come, and it disgusted him. Arlena suddenly wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest. He rolled his eyes at the girl's behavior, but he couldn't ignore a pretty young lady in obvious distress.
He patted the girl's shoulder gently. "There there, darling. Don't cry. He's not worth it…have you seen those whiskers?" Her sobs only increased in volume, and he groaned. He needed only replace the damned generator panel, and he could get out of the stupid airship and back to the Strahl to berate Fran's altruistic actions. The girl was probably getting snot all over his vest in her exertions, and he looked to the metal ceiling as if to ask the gods why.
She looked up with tear-stained eyes. "Please, pirate. Please teach me how to get my lord to love me!"
"I beg your pardon?"
But he had little time to react before she was plastering his face with kisses. "Show me what a man likes, pirate! Please! I must win my lord's affections!" Balthier was staggered by this turn of events to say the least. The girl was sloppy due to her hysterics, and she was letting her hands run down to cup his behind.
"Hold on just a moment!" What in Ivalice was going on in Rozarria? What were they teaching the girls there? She squeezed his backside, and he jolted. "I'm flattered, really, but…" She pushed her lips against his, stealing his breath, and he groaned in irritation. Normally, this sort of behavior would be intriguing, and truth be told, he had not experienced the comforts of another woman since he'd begun his journey with the Princess, but even a man of his type had some scruples.
He tried to push her off of him, but she only clung tighter. "Please love me, pirate. Show me how, please!" She tried to leave marks on his neck when he heard an irritated tut-tut at the doorway. His brain went into panic mode. This was the last thing he needed right now.
"Ah, now I see I am the one interrupting." The girl ceased her kissing assault, but she did not release him at the Princess' arrival.
His mouth struggled for words, and his neck ached at the brand he knew would be appearing shortly. "This is not what it looks like, Princess. She…she…" And then it all went to hell.
"Arlena!" Al-Cid shoved his way rather roughly past a still gobsmacked Ashe, and the servant girl broke away from him as if she'd received an electric shock.
"My Lord Margrace!" Arlena cried and fell to her knees in supplication. Balthier tried to communicate his innocence with a glance to the Princess, but she looked furious. Her hand was gripping the doorframe tightly as if it was his own neck.
Margrace stalked over and stared him down. "I see you are doing a fine job repairing my vessel. I didn't realize that defiling my staff was part of the process!"
"Defiling?!" he sputtered in protest. "She was attacking me!"
"It's not true, my lord!" Arlena cried, and Balthier spun around in surprise. The little vixen! Was this a trap all along? The look in the girl's eyes now confirmed it for him. Perfect. "I was helping with his repairs, and he forced himself…"
The sky pirate kicked the bulkhead. "I did no such thing! It was her!" He looked to the Princess, and her face was no less irritated with his behavior. He supposed that his reputation would lead anyone to find truth in the girl's lies. But they were lies! "Princess…"
Al-Cid looked ready to murder him as the girl wept on her knees in a very grand performance. Balthier wondered if the Rozarrian theatre was missing an actress at present. Margrace approached the Princess and shook his head. "My lady Ashe, as you can see, you mustn't travel with his lot on the morrow. He lacks morals! In my flagship we can oust the villainous Solidor. Leave this pirate, and we can defeat Archadia together!"
He was convincing her to travel with him the following day? This was the plan all along! He didn't think the repairs were all that difficult. Even shrewd Fran had been taken in by this dandy's lies! It was all a snare for the Princess. This would not stand. For her part, Ashe did not seem willing to entertain Al-Cid's offer, but she appeared very hurt by what she'd discovered in the engine room.
She looked slowly from Al-Cid to him, and their eyes met. "Balthier, are your repairs completed?"
It was not a question he'd expected just then. "Er…yes. I need only replace the panel."
Ashe arched an eyebrow. "Then do so. Right now." He did as ordered and returned his tools to the box. He lifted the kit and awaited further instructions. If Fran could see him acting like some obedient, lovesick wretch right then, she would be laughing for weeks. The Princess finally shifted her gaze to Al-Cid once more. Balthier saw a triumphant glint in the man's eyes, but he had a feeling that Ashe could see through it. At least he hoped that she could.
"What do you say, my lady? The Star of the Ambervale departs at your command," Al-Cid sleazed at her, his eyes predatory and downright possessive. Balthier wondered if the Princess saw the same look in his own eyes?
Ashe extended a hand for Al-Cid to kiss. "Your offer is more than generous, but I sail with the Strahl tomorrow. May the gods favor us both." Margrace pushed his tinted glasses back up his nose, and Balthier held in his smile at Ashe's dismissal of the Rozarrian. Al-Cid brushed a quick kiss to the top of Ashe's hand and stomped out of the room without so much as a thank you for Balthier's assistance. The girl rose from the floor and trailed after him.
This left him alone with Ashe, who remained in the doorway a bit shell-shocked to say the least. He set the tool box down on the floor and raised his hands in innocence. "I know my word isn't much to go on, pirate and philanderer that I am, but I swear to you. That girl started it."
The Princess stepped away from the entryway calmly, and the lack of expression on her face was beginning to terrify him. Would she murder him right there in Al-Cid's engine room and then waltz merrily back to the Strahl? He usually wouldn't allow a woman to intimidate him, but he found himself backing up until he was firmly pressed between the bulkhead and the Princess. She stared up at him, and then for the second time that day a woman decided to throw herself at him.
Ashe pulled him down to her by his collar and kissed him, a surprising turn of events if he ever knew one. But unlike Al-Cid's girl, Balthier was far more responsive to this. Her lips were soft and welcoming, and he'd been dreaming of this for far too long. Strange that their first physical contact would occur in the engine room of that stupid Margrace's ship, but worse things had happened in his life. When she finally released him, her body wracked with heaving breaths, he found it difficult to ignore the look of befuddlement in her face. Her lips were trembling as she spoke, and he watched her brush her fingers over them in surprise. "I…I don't know why I just did that."
He exhaled slowly. "I don't know either." She had actually stunned him. He pondered her behavior. She'd been extraordinarily happy to see him as soon as he'd arrived to repair the ship. Then he recalled the fury in her face when she'd discovered that girl hanging off of him like a streetear with the promise of a sandalwood chop. It dawned on him.
"Wait a moment, Princess. Were you…jealous of that girl?" Could it really be that simple? All day long he'd been jealous of that damned Margrace when all along the Princess had felt the same goofy feelings for him that he felt for her. A cosmic joke!
"Jealous?" Ashe responded, and he noticed that she was still standing very much in his personal bubble of space and not moving away. "I wasn't jealous."
"Ashe, you do realize you just kissed me, don't you?" He let his fingers trail down her arm, and she shivered. "Very forcefully and out of nowhere after all these weeks. Surely you don't have feelings for me?"
She seemed to realize that she had acted without thinking, and she finally began to back away. Her face fell, and he realized that he'd unintentionally rebuffed her. "I'm…I'm sorry you don't...I didn't mean to…"
He pulled her back to him with a grin. "Don't apologize. I know I'm irresistible."
Ashe turned scarlet and wrenched away from his grasp. She pressed her palms to her cheeks. "I kissed you! I kissed you! Why did I do that?"
He smirked and picked up the tool box. "Because you're a very confusing person, Princess. If you don't mind, I'd prefer continuing this conversation…well, not here for starters." Balthier marched off without glancing back and found that his footsteps were a touch lighter as he departed Al-Cid's lousy ship. Ashe's footfalls were slightly heavy and dragging behind him. Who would have thought that Al-Cid's little Princess-snatching scheme would backfire so marvelously? He even considered reducing Fran's toilet cleaning sentence to three years.
The "would they, could they" routine between him and Ashe had now grown far more complicated in a matter of minutes. As he ascended the Strahl's steps, Fran was waiting. She cocked her head to ask how things had gone, and he nodded. The Viera seemed pleased, although anyone else who saw her face right then would assume she was bored. One simply had to know Fran to discern her moods. The Princess entered the Strahl shortly thereafter, and Fran's eyes positively sparkled in her amusement. Balthier concentrated on putting the tool kit away as Ashe stepped between him and his partner to enjoy the current solitude of the cockpit.
Once the tools were put away to his satisfaction, he moved to head off for his cabin when a strong hand grasped his shoulder. "Well?" Fran inquired.
"Well what, Fran?" he retorted grumpily. "I'll have you know that Margrace was plotting to get her on board his ship tomorrow. Tried to malign my good character by throwing his maid at me!"
The Viera nearly chuckled. "Is that so? I underestimated him." She busied herself in the passageway with some circuitry, but Balthier knew it was just so she could get all the gossip she wanted from him. "But I see that you emerged unscathed. Have you told her?"
He shook his head. "It's the strangest thing, actually. The woman kissed me first!" he whispered, peering down the corridor to see Ashe sitting in his seat in the cockpit.
Fran smirked. "Then why do you appear so nervous? Surely this is what you've wanted?"
He waved his hand in annoyance at her. "Would you keep it down?"
"They say we Viera are a mysterious race," she remarked. "I find that a bit insulting in light of your current behavior." She turned to face him. "The playboy struggling with a lady? You are a confusing piece of work, Balthier…" Fran was silent for a moment and then she appeared to realize something. His eyes had done it again. "Surely you don't…"
He wagged a finger in her face. "I'm so glad I'm a source of entertainment for you!"
"I did not imagine you to be this serious about…" Fran looked at him strangely and then at the cockpit. "Perhaps I have underestimated a great many things."
Balthier sighed. "It's not what you're thinking," he denied vehemently. Quite frankly he didn't know what he felt for the Princess. That was what worried him the most. Most women in his life occupied his thoughts for a night or two and then they only existed to inflate his ego, but Ashe. Ashe was different, and it certainly terrified him.
His partner could bear no more. "You'll be in no condition to fly tomorrow if you keep this inside. I'd be happy to distract the Captain with some navigation charts if you'd like some time to talk." Balthier shuddered at the thought of Basch's reaction to a potential entanglement. "You're acting like an infant. What would your apprentice say if he saw the great sky pirate Balthier cowed into submission by his love for a woman?"
"I said keep it down!" he hissed. "And Vaan is not my apprentice!" He scowled at Fran, but there was truth in her words. He was acting rather out of sorts…and all because of the Princess? Where was his confidence? She waited patiently as a mother dealt with an impertinent child. "Fine!"
He grumbled under his breath and departed his partner's company. Blasted, nosy Viera! Ashe was still sitting in his chair when he entered, and he decided to ignore how much that pleased him. He settled himself in Fran's seat and pretended to examine the switches and panels at the navigator's console. One would think the leading man was a thirteen year old boy again.
"I think we have some things to discuss," Ashe said slowly as she let her fingers drum nervously on the armrest of the pilot's seat.
"Yes, I suppose that's true," he replied quietly and busied himself with flicking switches.
She cleared her throat, and he raised his eyes from the console. Clearly, she expected his undivided attention. "About what just happened on the other ship…"
He decided to fall back on the playboy front that had served him so well these past few months around her. A relationship with a future queen would be nothing but trouble, he tried to tell himself. "No, no, don't worry about it, Princess. Close quarters, traveling together so long. Unavoidable, surely. I'm not offended, if that's what you're wondering."
"Offended?" she screeched, and he could almost imagine Fran doubling over laughing in the corridors beyond. "You kissed back!"
"So?"
She was out of the chair and looming in his space in an instant. "So? Don't play this game with me, pirate. Do you think me a fool?" Balthier was beginning to wonder how many women would accuse him of such a thing that day. "I saw the little alpha male competition on board Al-Cid's ship, and if you think to convince me that you have no interest in me beyond a passing fancy, then…" She was stumbling now, and he feared that his earlobes were turning red. "Then I…then I have news for you! I'll have you know that I spoke to Fran about your behavior concerning me and…"
"You did what?!" But the triumph in her eyes then was all the confirmation she needed. Ashe crossed her arms in satisfaction, and Balthier was appalled at how easily he'd been bested. "You never spoke to Fran."
"I didn't have to, did I?" The Princess smiled widely. "You care about me. The world's biggest flirt and man about town. You care about me."
He growled and leaned back in the chair. "I said no such thing. I only kissed you back to save you from embarrassment…"
She dared to laugh at him, the minx! "Oh Balthier, your lies may work on Vaan or even Basch, but it will not catch me off guard again." The damned woman kept hovering beside him like a vampire bat with the scent of Hume blood.
Balthier raised an eyebrow, but kept his gaze focused on the panel in front of him. "Well then, Princess. What of it? We can dance about it however you'd like, but the fact of the matter is this – we can't frolic about like a pair of lovesick peasants. We have different career goals if you haven't noticed."
She frowned. "I know that. But if there's one thing I've learned about you, it's this. Despite your joking and your downright infuriating manner, you'll fight for something you believe in." He met her gaze and was surprised by how intensely she was watching him. She moved a slightly shaking hand to rest on his arm. "Would you fight for this?"
Every part of him was screaming to tell her no. He couldn't see a relationship with the Princess going any way but badly. But he was never one to back down from a challenge, was he? And it was very hard to say no to someone who pressed as many of his intellectual buttons as his physical ones. Then again, the physical ones were shouting for him to just kiss the woman already.
He reached his free hand up to pull her face down to his. If he kissed her now, he'd be committing to something that was altogether foreign to him. Unknown territory entirely. Certainly was interesting at the very least. He could feel her quick breaths against his lips, and he wondered why this was so damned difficult. She'd pounced on him earlier with little warning, and he'd been more than happy to reciprocate, but now he was holding back. What a tangled web he'd been caught up in, but as her fingers tightened around his arm insistently, he couldn't really deny it any longer.
He let his lips tease the corner of her mouth, and he was finally about to give himself over to her enticing clutches fully when the Strahl jolted slightly and his ears were filled with the roaring sound of an airship taking to the skies. Ashe pulled away, stumbling back in surprise as they both looked out through the glass to see the hideous blue Star of the Ambervale rising out of the hangar bay.
The engines blasted his hearing, and he sighed. "Show off," he mumbled, and he was gratified to hear Ashe chuckle beside him. They watched Al-Cid's ship depart, and he couldn't mask the smile of satisfaction that brought him. Ashe was still watching, and he rose to his feet. Balthier let his arms snake around her middle, and he tugged her close. "Now," he whispered and let his fingers dance across her back. "Where were we?"