A/N: Okay, so…due to another appearance of our fickle overlord called Inspiration, apparently I'm writing a new story.^^

Yes, I'm neglecting Andra for another self-insert and leaving Drizzt to brood with his annoying teenage insecurities. For now. I'll get back to them. Right now, though…I really really want to meet the sky pirates. XD

Could involve slight Balthier/Fran stuff, since I like that. No Vaanthier! Everyone's straight here.

"And I'm doin just fine; I'm always landing on my feet,

In the nick of time and by the skin of my teeth.

I ain't gonna stress, 'cause the worst ain't happened yet.

Something's watching over me, like

Sweet serendipity."

Ah, man, she'd been stupid. All her free life she'd been doing this—being a weaseling thief—and she'd never been caught before. Riley had sworn, on her neck, on her very own surviving life, that she wouldn't ever ever be so stupid as to get caught. So. Now she was wondering… How might one survive without their neck?

The lithe—scrawny, even—teenage girl flew around and over the many obstructions that lined the narrow street, shoving people out of the way as she needed. Mostly she just had to weave around them, though. With one hand she clamped a floppy, brimmed hat onto her head, being as it was having a hard time holding on for the ride. To her credit, she was doing a very good job outdistancing them. The armored goons chasing her were having a hard time keeping up. But they didn't give up easy.

What were they making such a fuss about? It was just a little coinpurse for life's sake. The person she'd stolen it from surely had much more where that came from—him being Imperial and all…

She heard the rough voices shouting from behind. "Stop 'er! One o' yeh grab 'er!" Heh. They'd have little luck. No citizen around here would ever help catch a thief—especially not one who'd irked the Imperials. Unfortunately, none of them would go against any soldiers, either. So she couldn't expect help from these losers. But that's okay. She never could. It was a daylight escapade and she was on her own.

Riley's breath rasped in and out frantically; she was tiring. She had to find a way to shake them. Adrenaline rushes didn't last long, after all—and a right shame, that. A worried whimper escaped her as she glanced back. Those jerks were gaining on her! How dare they. Rounding a corner, she looked ahead and saw her chance. The Sandsea! What better place to lose yourself than a tavern? Riley put on a burst of speed, blasting herself in the face with new wind that flung her hair back like a flaming meteor's trail. She hated being a redhead; it made her easier to spot in a crowd. Easier to chase. That's mostly why she wore the hat.

Mostly.

The patrons closest to the door were startled, to be sure, when our redheaded wonder-girl burst unceremoniously into the bar. She didn't even slow. She headed straight for the back of the room, taking the stairs to the upper level. It was more secluded, and less lighted.

But once she reached the top, she froze, skidding to a stop.

Was that a… Good grief, that's a viera!

The strange duo looked up from their drinks, their attention drawn by her somewhat un-graceful entrance. The hume of the two reclined in his chair, casual, but interested. He was…bright. And warm-looking. Maybe that was the intricate bronze-patterned leather vest, or the golden-brown hair, or those deep pools of hazel intelligence posing as his eyes. He would surely stand out in a hume crowd, but…next to her… The viera sat with her beautiful, long legs crossed, elbow propped on the table, a wine glass dangling from between her beautiful spider-leg fingers. Clawed fingers. Her hair was spun silver, or snow, or pure white clouds. Riley's eyes locked immediately on those magnificent spotted ears. The creature stared back coolly with exotic ruby eyes, challenging. That was a familiar look. A "what-are-you-looking-at" glare. But she couldn't look away. Viera never came to Rabanastre. This was a unheard of...this was a dream.

Right before the part where they probably would've growled at her to go away, the awkward moment was broken. Her Imperial friends had busted through the door.

Riley couldn't stop a terrified squeal as she ducked down, yanking at the brim of her leather hat. There was no time—she had nowhere else to go, except… Before her brain could even register what in this world she was doing, Riley had slipped into the empty chair at their table, right between the veira and hume.

"Please," she addressed the startled man, rushing her words together in a harsh whisper. "Just for five minutes pretend I'm with you. I swear I'll pay you back somehow someday, but just— please, I can't let them find me!"

Looking very bewildered and not at all happy about it, the man opened his mouth to protest. But before he could say anything, one of the three imperials came rushing up the stairs. Riley crossed her arms on the tabletop and tilted her head down, the brim of her hat covering her face completely. She'd already tucked her recognizable bright-amber ponytail into the back of her oversized jacket.

"Listen up!" the soldier announced loudly. "We're lookin' fer a girl. Redheaded, scrawny little thing in a hat and overcoat. Who's seen 'er?" No one answered. It really made the soldier look stupid. "You cain't hide 'er! If nobody's gonna give us what we want, we'll tear the place up lookin."

The silence was palpable; no one dared speak. The place was filled with cowards. No one was going to stand up to them. Not here—or ever anywhere. But then…someone did.

"Well now. There's an attitude we've never seen before in a soldier." A smooth voice broke the tension, calm to the point of teasing. It had quite the suave accent to it.

In her astonishment, Riley dared a peek from under the brim of her hat. It was the hume she sat beside, completely at ease as he reclined in his chair, swishing his half-empty glass around in small circles. The imperial turned to him, wearing what was probably supposed to be an imposing glare. Riley suppressed the urge to snicker at him.

The soldier stepped forward, towering over them menacingly. "Just what're you about? What're you hiding?" Riley cowered further under her hat.

"Quick to presume, aren't we." The man shook his head lazily, a smile playing around his lips. "What in the world would I have to hide? I'm an innocent traveler. I was seeking a bit of relaxation before we have to set off once more." Riley couldn't get over his voice. It was deep and warm like gold, and even though it was disinterested, it was incredibly smooth. His voice was freedom; it was the afternoon sun.

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you…" the soldier grumbled.

But the brown-haired man remained unperturbed. He even chuckled. "I do apologize, sir. My unruly tongue often seems to have a mind of its own."

"Yes…That much is undeniable." Here, the mysterious viera finally spoke. She had an accent, too: extraordinarily exotic and beautiful. Her voice was beauty and mystery. Her hume companion looked at her, raising an eyebrow sarcastically. She only shrugged with a hint of a smile.

"Enough! I'll not go playin your word games. Tell me now: Where is the girl?"

The man glanced down, discreetly. Riley realized with a jolt of terror that he was staring straight into her eyes. Oh no…oh heck no. Would he? …No! She couldn't go to Nalbina! Riley pleaded desperately with her eyes, shaking her head as much as she dared move. 'Please…you can't…'

Finally, the brunette broke the gaze, instead looking straight up into the soldier's eyes. "Sir…I confess don't understand. If you've not found her here, why continue to look? Surely, it makes no intelligent sense. This thief of yours could be out of the city by now, for all you know."

The soldier glowered, hands wringing his sword handle. Finally, he waved a hand disgustedly. "Bah…this bucket of rabble's hardly worth the time." He turned to go, stomping for the stairs. Before he left, though, he turned back and thrust a finger in the brown-haired man's direction. "You, I'll be watchin. An' you best not give me any trouble."

The brilliant man smirked, waving a hand in the air. "The thought never crossed my mind."

The soldier growled and left.

For a moment, she just sat there, keeping her face obscured. After a few seconds of silence she asked quietly, "…He gone?"

"He is…" The man's voice mumbled.

Riley groaned in relief, leaning back in the chair as she put one hand to her heart. "Oh wow…geeze…check that off my list of 'never do again' that's for sure…"

"Augh…" He huffed an annoyed kind of sighing sound, propping up his head on his fingertips. "I'm sorry—who are you?"

Riley snapped out of it, seeing his annoyance. "Oh I…I'm sorry, really. I just needed to hide, you know, and there was no time to…T-those guys didn't exactly like me much, you could tell, and…you know what happens to people…"

The older man leaned further back in his chair—yes it was possible—and rested his chin in his hand. He was so hard to read. She couldn't tell or not weather her "choiceless victim" act was selling with him. But, as she was staring into his face, trying to see his thoughts…something clicked. A dream on the edge of memory and pain… A face in a far away cage…

This guy was very very different. This guy was…familiar.

Riley sensed he was growing impatient—his next words would tell her to leave. 'Think fast, think fast…save yourself…' "Um…Who are you?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

Riley shrugged. "You got to ask."

At that, the man smirked in that confident, casual way of his. "Ah, but you can't use that kind of logic. You haven't told me who you are."

"Riley." She shrugged again. "Doesn't really matter. Not as much as your name."

Again, she'd succeeded in puzzling him. Riley loved confusing people. For some reason, it was even more fun with this guy. She got the impression that he wasn't normally confused much. She decided to further the cause. Even though it could get her in serious trouble…she couldn't resist.

Riley closed her eyes, turning her head down. Several seconds later, she started mumbling absently. "D…Dantare? …Huh-uh: Dal. …Daltier." She opened her eyes, serving him a bright, hopeful smile. "Did I get it? Daltier?"

The hume wore an expression that came as close to shock as she supposed the suave man could wear. Heh. Well that was fun. "Well!" she announced, standing up from the chair. "Guess I'll see you later. Well prob'ly not. I mean bye."

She could feel his eyes drilling the back of her head as she walked off, hands in her pockets. So she wasn't surprised when he spoke. But she'd been expecting a question.

Instead, she heard: "A word of advice, if I may."

Riley turned around slowly. It was her turn to be puzzled. "Uh…kay?"

"When you're hiding in a crowd, best to do what everyone else does."

"…What?"

"You were too conspicuous," he explained. "Head down, face hidden, daring not to move. You should've appeared startled and resentful—like everyone else." As he finished, he lifted his drink to his lips, casually peering at her from over the rim of the glass.

Riley didn't know what to say. He really sounded like he was teaching her. It was gloating, but still. Maybe the smugness was just like…ingrained in him, she guessed. At any rate…She was supposed to say "thank you." He wasn't expecting it. But she was supposed to. Only it felt like she'd die a little inside if she ever said "thank you" to this guy.

So, naturally…she turned and ran away.

….

Balthier shook his head in wonder, staring down at the bar's lower level as the strange girl disappeared out the front door. "Now what," he marveled, "was that all about?"

"She hides something."

He turned to Fran, who was looking into her wine glass as if uninterested. But Balthier knew it was really because she was deep in thought.

"What makes you say that? …Well. Other than her 'strained' relationship with the Imperials."

Fran looked away, her serious eyes toward the empty doorway. She didn't respond to his mirth. "It's as if she…attracts the Mist. It pools around her. It is reminiscent of viera."

Balthier could tell that she thought this nothing trivial, and he agreed. He shook his head, eyebrows rising in reluctant acceptance. "Suppose we keep an eye on her then. I didn't much care for the way she nearly guessed my name…" He sighed, taking another drink from his glass. "And here I thought we'd caught ourselves a peaceful repose."

"Not so." Fran turned her head towards him, snow-white hair dancing. "We'll not see much of peace for a while. Not with your boy around."

"He's not mine," Balthier scoffed. "Really, Fran, you of all people would hound me with that?"

Without a word in reply, Fran only smiled.

"I'm sure he'll leave us alone—until tomorrow, at the least. He's picked up another mark, apparently." He was changing the subject, without really changing the subject. He didn't allow Fran a chance to get it back on track. "Good thing, too. We won't be in Rabanastre for long and I'd like to enjoy the respite."

Fran's smile was replaced by a curious stare. But Balthier pointedly wasn't looking at her. If he didn't look, he wouldn't have to answer.

.~*~.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell.

I know—right now you can't tell.

But stay a while and maybe then you'll see

A different side of me."

She hadn't planned on staying around. She was going to run until she got all the way to Lowtown or something. But right as she got out onto the street, Migelo caught her. Something about how he needed his shelves restocked in a hurry, and she worked quickest. And he'd pay her. It wasn't really in her style to work for money…but hey, it was easy work for money. So she'd come. Riley didn't know Migelo very well, since she'd only done a couple of jobs for him in the past. But she knew he gave out work to a couple of other kids—orphans, but nobody she knew. Anyway, she liked him. He was the nice kind of gruff old geezer.

She was led to the shelves along a wall next to some crates of merchandise—potions and different drinks and the like. Her job was to put everything on the shelves where it went. Extremely easy. And being so close to such valuable merch'…If she didn't happen to like Migelo, he'd find himself a few bottles short.

While she was busy with her job, people-watching to pass the time, someone came in who looked very much more interesting than the other patrons. He was a young blonde around her age, with feathery hair and quite the peculiar clothing. Armor and a sword and all that jazz. He was carrying a small crate over his shoulder, though, and it looked like as everyday-natural on his shoulder just as fittingly as a hyena's biting jaws would look. Or a sack of loot. But not something like the arm of another person.

He found Migelo at the bar and walked over. "Here. This's the last of them."

"Ah, Vaan," the old bangaa greeted the boy. He pointed in Riley's direction, startling her into getting back to her work. "You can just take that over to the young lady; she'll stock it up."

"Ok. Say Migelo—I tried to ask you earlier. You haven't seen Penelo around, have you?"

"Ah, nope, I 'aven't. Not today m'boy. I wouldn't worry much—but get that box where it's s'pposed to be, would you? I can't sell merchandise if it's still in crates." Blondie opened his mouth again, but before he could talk, Migelo was rumbling along in that gravel-sore voice. "I have to run off for now, anyway, got some errands to be runnin—say Kytes!" He turned and called to a small boy who was busy playing with some other children in the corner. "Stay and watch over things, will you?" Small Boy nodded. Seemed weird to leave someone so young in charge…but who was Riley to underestimate the power of youth?

The blonde boy sighed, grumbling a reply, before trudging over to where Riley was busying herself. She was very good at pretending to be working hard. But she did look up when he spoke.

"Hey, uh…here you go." He set the crate down beside the others. There were at least seven or eight there. Ugh…maybe this was going to be more work than she'd thought.

"Thanks," Riley replied. But then an idea came to her. She grinned inwardly, hatching a plan. She rubbed the back of her neck, wincing as if it hurt. "Shewf…How much potion does a man need all in one pace? My back's killing me, all bending down and up and down..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It gets annoying." Then, just like she'd been aiming for, he added, "Uh…How about I help you out?"

Riley resisted the urge to grin. Instead she said, "Oh—would you? I mean I don't wanna cause you trouble or anything…"

"Ah, don't worry about it." He kneeled and opened the crate he'd just set down, taking out several potions. "Nothin' better to do."

Riley nodded, snorting a chuckle. "Ain't that the truth."

"…What's that supposed to mean?"

Riley looked at him and realized she'd screwed up. "Oh, I…No, I'm sorry! Aw, come on…I just meant I didn't have anything to do either."

She stopped when she saw the smug grin breaking across his face. She lowered her eyelids at him, but couldn't resist returning the grin. She pushed another potion onto the top shelf and gave a laugh. "Heh…Clever. I walked right into that one."

He smiled boyishly as he grabbed an armload of bottles from the crate. "Clever? You're the first person who's laughed, actually." Riley actually noticed his voice that time. His was hard to place. His was maybe sunlight on water. Or sand, or…dreams of daring.

"Can't imagine why." Suddenly she skipped to another subject, being random as usual. "Your name's Vaan, did he say?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I'm Riley. …Who's Penelo?"

She seemed to have struck a nerve. He looked like he was hiding a wince. "A friend…"

As he was occupied with what he was doing, Riley stared at him for a minute, frozen in place. "I could…help you look."

"…Huh?" He glanced at her mid-job, his hands still up on the top shelf.

Riley ducked down to retrieve a few more bottles, preferring not to meet his eyes when she confessed eavesdropping. "I just heard about how nobody'd seen her, so. You know—show me a picture or something; I'll help you look."

"You would?"

"Sure. Small thing. I gotta help you out somehow." She offered him a smile and added, "You helped me."

Vaan returned the smile, and she was happy for it. "Thanks..."

"No prob." Riley looked completely at ease, and he seemed satisfied with her mask. But underneath…feh. This wasn't like her. She hadn't been planning to pay him back…In fact she'd only meant to trick him into helping her work. But he was nice. He wasn't just another dope. And with her…well, abilities…finding people was a cinch. She could help easily and what did she have that was better to do?

Riley closed her eyes, hanging her head.

"…I don't…I don't think she's here…"

Vaan stopped what he was doing, looking at her with confusion. "Huh? ...Hey…Are you okay?" She kept her head bowed, eyes closed, and…Well that was weird. What was wrong with her eyelids? It was like they were glowing or something. Lit from behind…But that was crazy, unless she was using some new kind of magic.

"Vaan…who is…Be'Gannan?"

"Who? …Riley, what's wrong with you?"

She opened her eyes, lifting her gaze to meet his. He was staring at her like she was a freak. "Oh—I, uh…" Her mouth worked in vain, stuttering, until finally she just blurted, "I-I can take it from here. I won't make you pick up my slack… You should be out looking, anyway, right?"

"Huh?" He wasn't sure weather he should be offended or not.

"Oh, don't think I don't want you around. I just…I gotta admit I was kinda using you. I don't like work… But, I'm still gonna help you." She finished with a genuine smile, at once assuring and hopeful. For some reason, it suddenly mattered very much that he wasn't mad at her.

He shook his head absently, bewildered. "Okay…Well you're probably right." He sighed, and she was glad to see he was dropping it for now. "So, I…guess we'll look when you're done here?"

Riley beamed. He was put off, maybe, but not mad. Why she cared escaped her. "Well… I'll be done quick here, but I got stuff to do afterwards. So come get me tomorrow—around noon, okay?"

"Sure." Vaan offered her a final smile—one of trust. She hadn't bargained for that. Even though she was happy he wasn't mad, she was uncomfortable with his trust. But she didn't let him see.

He started away, but at the door stopped and looked back. "Oh—! Uh…Will you be at your house tomorrow? I mean, where do I come get you; where do you live?"

Riley straightened up from the box to look at him with eyebrows raised, staring like he was crazy. She started to laugh. "Live! Heh, oh man…" She paused to giggle again. "Ahh…Tell you what. I'll meet you at the Sandsea, how's that?"

Vaan seemed less confused now, but surprised. He nodded and turned to go.

Riley shook her head, still giggling to herself as she reached for the top shelf again. "Heh, 'Where do I live.' Good one, that."

Vaan paused to hear, looking back once more with something like sadness in his eyes. Riley was busy with what she was doing and didn't see. Having nothing more to say, though, Vaan finally decided to stay for a bit. Maybe Kytes could offer something that Migelo didn't know—or just wasn't telling.

….

"See I got you all figured out.

You need everyone's eyes just to feel seen.

Nobody knows who you even are,

Who do you think that you are?"

Not long after, Vaan came out into the bright streets, his mind buzzing. Without a doubt, that'd have to be the weirdest chick he'd ever met. But…interesting, at least. Everybody else around here was so boring. Usually. Now, there were some pretty interesting characters hiding out in this backwater town. Pretty interesting pirate characters.

A sky pirate. All his life, wasn't that what he dreamed of? And he'd met one. Finally. One who was arrogant and over-presuming and who'd tried to bully him out of his fairly-stolen treasure. Even so, the more trouble he got himself into, Balthier got him out. He wouldn't have even been in prison if it weren't for the pirate…but at least he'd taken responsibility for it and gotten him out alive. He remembered what happened in the ring, with those stupid seeq.

"I said you're the one that stinks, Hamshanks. Hear me now?"

That was an epic line. It was a fearless line.

It was annoying, though, too. Vaan did not enjoy being protected, like some kid. He didn't need a nanny—not even a pirate nanny. Vaan grinned deviously, imagining how the arrogant pirate would scowl at being called that. Anyway…times like then, in the ring, it only proved Balthier right about how he saw Vaan: an annoying kid he had to look after. And Vaan absolutely hated it when Balthier was right.

He'd prove him wrong.

Eventually. But right now, there was this thing to do for Kytes. The younger boy hadn't seen Penelo either; apparently she'd taken a day off or something. Wasn't that just his luck. At least he could pass the time with this chore that Old Dalan needed doing. Besides, he needed to thank him for the help on getting into the palace.

…What did Riley mean: she wasn't here?

You know what…Dalan could wait until tomorrow. He wanted to introduce Riley to the wise old coot. Or rather—introduce Dalan to her. Maybe he'd be able to tell what was so strange about that girl.

….

"All night
Hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep,
Because tomorrow might be good for something."

The nights were worse now. Mostly from the cold. Usually it wasn't too bad, even in the winter, because the homeless people formed big huddles when they slept in the alleys. But Riley wasn't allowed in any more, ever since those stupid nightmares started. Something about she 'thrashed in her sleep' or whatever. Apparently she'd left more than a few bruises. People even woke up with scratches, and that was very not-good for her either. She'd need to get some new gloves if these were already wearing out. Maybe tomorrow she'd hit the armor store. Stealing from Panamis's place usually wasn't too hard.

Right now, though, she was really wishing she'd pilfered herself a blanket. She'd never needed one until now. But as she huddled in the mouth of the alleyway, cuddling the cold stone with her back against a wall, her jacket wasn't doing a great job. It was plenty big enough to cover all of her, if she curled up in a ball, but the tired brown fabric was wearing thinner. She needed a new one.

She shifted into a tighter ball, hugging her legs to her chest. Man, this sucked. She'd never known how suckish this was, before tonight. Misery loves company. And all that jazz.

It was probably better she slept alone. Who knows if one of them might knock off her hat while she slept? Wouldn't that be a scene to wake up to. Earlier she'd tried to get them to let her in the huddle, but that encounter didn't exactly have a grand turnout. Nevermind the bruise under her eye, but when that hobo kid hit her, she'd nearly lost the hat. She had to be more careful if she was gonna be a full-time loner now.

Fine. She could do alone. Careful, though…gonna need a little help with that.

Riley put all the thoughts away for the night, locking them up in that cupboard in the back of her mind. She soon fell asleep.

….

"And I know.

I know they've all been talking 'bout me;

I can hear them whisper.

And it makes me think there must be something wrong…

With me…"

"Hey. Girl."

Nearly an hour later, she felt something intruding on her light sleep. Something hard poking her in the ribs—repeatedly. Felt like a boot. Very annoying. "Mmf…Lemme 'lone…" She shifted so that her legs protected her stomach

A hand patted her cheek lightly. She swatted it away. Someone huffed an annoyed sound. "Come on, girl, wake up."

"Try using her name, perhaps." Boy…that was a peculiar accent…

Balthier glanced back up at Fran, glaring. She crossed her arms and shrugged. Huffing another sigh, he turned back to the huddled figure. "Riley, then. Come on—I'm tired. I want to go home."

Hold up…she knew that voice. That was the voice of gold…

Riley opened her eyes, blinking until the fuzz cleared. She couldn't tell that great in the darkness…but…he looked familiar. "…the heck? D…Daltier?"

He snorted a laugh. She was endearing. In a way. "It's Balthier. What are you doing?"

"Oh…uhh, well…" She sat up, unfolding from her little cocoon, and sat cross-legged as she rubbed her eyes. "Sleepin. Was."

"In the gutter, though? Isn't that rather uncomfortable?"

"What're…you talkin m'bout?" She slumped back against the wall, looking at him groggily. It was hard to think when she'd just woken up. Riley was a fan of her sleep. "Duh, 's uncumf'rble…"

Balthier glanced behind him again, fixing Fran with a look. Like a 'Do I really have to do this?' kind of look. She didn't say anything, so he was forced to turn back to the girl.

"Alright…What do you say you come with me, mm? You could sleep in a place utterly devoid of cockroaches."

Riley seemed to come more to awareness at that. He held out his hand and she stared at it, confused to the point of suspicious. Was he helping her? What on Ivalice for? "What're you…"

He interrupted her. "Look, do you want to stay here cuddling dirt all night long?"

She lowered her eyelids—sarcasm in facial expression form. "Sure, that's why I never spend any of the billions in my parents' bank account."

She was not taken by his ensuing grin. She also did not note how handsome it was. "You must admit, though," he continued, "I do have a point."

"I don't like to admit anything," she responded coldly.

He glared at her dully, then glanced back at his companion. "I can tell already, this one's a character. Really, is it worth the trouble?"

At that, Riley turned down her eyes, glaring at the stone ground. She'd have to choose. Pride? Or a warm place to sleep for the night? After a moment, Riley replied quietly, "But…But I will because cockroaches are annoying."

Balthier turned back. Slowly, a smile found his lips, and this time Riley didn't hate it—because it was a small, genuine smile, nearly void of smugness. He held out his hand once again. Slowly, her own gloved hand reached out, hesitated, reached again. Then she realized with wonder that he was pulling her to her feet, his strong, gentle hand warm around her threadbare glove. As she rose she looked into his eyes, so full of an unfamiliar notion...kindness.

He led her away, and as they walked she still held onto his hand like a child. She was expecting to be lead to an inn or something, but they just kept walking until they were on the outskirts of town. They brought her to a two-story house. Very high-class. Balthier let go of her hand—she couldn't deny a sense of loss—and went to the door.

Instead of taking out a key or anything predictable, he reached into his pocket and took out an item with which she was very familiar. A lockpick. She shook her head at him incredulously, looking from him to the viera and back again. "What're you…man, don't you live here?"

Balthier, knelt by the door handle, mumbled an absent reply. "Mm…Not precisely, no."

She stared silently at this man, this stranger…and wondered about him. And she smiled.

The door clicked open and they led her inside. Fran closed the door behind them. A light was turned on, revealing a living room decorated with expensive furniture, revolving around a gigantic couch. "Not bad…" Balthier observed, boots clomping as he went further into the house. He turned around, facing her. "Alright, Riley. The couch is yours."

She nodded, but didn't move. She was trying to read him again.

He behaved like he didn't want her around, and she could deal with that. But what she didn't like was the confusion. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. What were his motives, his thoughts? What about reasons? Like his veira friend, this 'Balthier' couldn't be predicted. He couldn't be read. Though with him, it was personality, and with her…coldness. But maybe coldness was just part of her personality.

She turned her eyes to the veira. For the third time that day—and she knew it was a dangerous thing to do—Riley closed her eyes and bowed her head.

"S'cuse me—miss?"

The viera looked her way. "Yes."

"Is your name…" Riley opened her eyes, locking onto the veira's crimson orbs. "Fran?"

Fran's eyes did not register surprise, as Riley had expected. She looked to Balthier, who was shaking his head, staring at her in wonder.

"And that is why it is worth the trouble." Fran moved past him, towards the stairs in the corner. He followed behind.

When he thought he was out of earshot, Riley heard him mutter: "How come she got your name right?"

Riley smiled. She didn't know what Fran had meant, and she didn't know what they meant to do with her, or why they'd taken her off the streets. But she didn't worry. She liked them. 'Meanwhile, doesn't that couch look comfortable…'

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy or it's characters. Only Riley is mine.

Lyric headings: "Sweet Serendipity" by Lee DeWayze (weird name 0.o), "Cooler Than Me" by Mike Posner, "Unwell" by Matchbox 20