Alright, so yeah, new fic, new ideas, same old me, eh? Tell me how it is? ;b
-lurve!
Sometimes, it was just odd, living with those two, Fang and Vanille. Each day was different from the next. Sure, it was a far cry from the horrors of living in with Serah and Snow – oh, the woes of public affection, they left this soldier so very flustered, in all senses of the word. Yes, this was much better, waking up to the smell of burning behemoth in the morning and constantly worrying over the five hundred year old flame-proof ceiling and fearing what would happen if it were ever to end up in her breakfast. Knowing Vanille, she would most likely toss it into the mix as seasoning. Alright, perhaps she was exaggerating a bit when she managed to convince herself that eating asbestos flavored omelets at the crack of dawn with two possibly psychotic women in a home that could better be described as a happy farm was better than having a decent life with her decidedly un-pregnant sister and unusually large brother-in-law, or sharing a bed with a half-dressed barmaid, a transvestite, and a wanna-be hero in a bath-n-bar. Though, at least she wouldn't be eating Snow's, or Etro forbid, her own cooking. Fang and Vanille had put a stop to that the very first day since she'd moved in.
Sitting on the living room couch and watching Vanille fuss over herself at the vanity, she remembered it as if it were yesterday. Funny, she thought, since it actually wasn't that long ago; in fact, it very well could have been yesterday, had she not known that she'd slept through at least eighteen hours of it in the first place. She smiled, reveling in the strange look that Fang gave from her spot, slaving over the stove. Yes, how odd of a day it had been.
Serah had arranged the whole event, planning everything out and pulling the strings. Poor Lightning had never even had the chance to protest before she was blindfolded and dragged off to whatever ass end of nowhere she didn't know and ushered through a doorway and into one very groggy and confused pair of Pulsians' arms.
Vanille had been the first to answer the door, squinting and rubbing her eyes as Snow animatedly explained everything to her. Of course, disgruntled mother bear Fang had stepped between she and the other two, groggily (and rather rudely) inquiring as to who "in the hell" was banging down their door and what, also "in the hell," they could have been wanting with them at that ungodly hour; then, after eyes had been de-crusted and everyone had straightened up, the soldier was shoved into the den and met with open arms – bewildered, but open nonetheless.
Then had come the moving in. After a stern lecture from Serah, coupled with sympathetic looks from Snow and Vanille and not-so-discreet chuckles from Fang, the tiny bag of belongings that the young escape artist sister had been instructed to pack for "a surprise family trip" was dumped onto a bunk bed and dispersed throughout the house, her sparse beauty supplies quartered off with Vanille's on the vanity, favorite recipes stowed away into Fang's "little black cook book," meager two sets of clothes snatched up and secreted away into a closet, which Fang was constantly going in and out of, another thing that everyone seemed to find as the most hilarious thing in the world; and personal supplies laid bare on the table, despite much argument and hostilities from Lightning. Oh, the horror of it all.
"And why is she moving in with us again?" Fang had asked, once everyone had settled down around the living room and Lightning no longer had to be restrained from leaving or obsessively rearranging her living quarters down to shampoo and deodorant line-ups. Instead, the woman had ended up sulking by the fridge and watching the others converse over wine, which Serah had absolutely insisted that neither of them have – Farron sisters' alcohol tolerance issues and whatnot. Oh, little did she know.
And Snow, that big idiot had just smiled that cheeky smile of his, grinning smugly like a fool. Thinking back on it now, it brought Lightning a tiny little grin of her own, but then, it was simply infuriating. "Oh, well, you see, uh," he'd said, straying off a bit with a sly brush of his hair from that silly bandana he'd always insisted of wearing before going on, "Serah and I were thinking that our little Light here needed a bit space; you know, like not being cooped up in a house with a sexy couple like us," he'd gestured to himself and Serah and continued, "all the time." Vanille had nodded understandingly at this, glancing to Fang as the she giggled with her about the terrible, threatening daggers that Lightning herself was giving at this statement, her being treated as a child and whatnot.
Fang hadn't believed this for a minute, and that was plain on her face as she looked at Snow. She'd smiled that lecherous bridle of hers and leaned over the table, wavering just a tad drunkenly. "Oh, so you're sayin' you were hopin' to get a little 'mmhm' in the 'uh-huh' goin' without big sis over here getting' all riled up about it," Fang laughed, eying Serah, "I see how it is." She'd slapped her lap, laughing harder at the uncomfortable squeak the girl had made, and at Snow's reaction.
The oaf had gasped, glancing back to Lightning as he groped for words. "N-no, that's not what I meant at all!" he'd said, but Fang was not to be deterred. The debate had gone on for nearly an hour like that too, with terms like "woohoo" and "salad tossing" flying around until he'd finally given up on his case and Serah had left with him until the next while, and by the time that ordeal had passed, Fang had decided that it was a wonderful idea to take everyone out for a gander at the budding world outside of their luxury beachfront trailer and go dumpster diving for dinner on the side; so, just as Snow was starting up his beaten up, crusty little air-bike, the raving woman had stomped outside and flagged him down, extolling the wonders of "good, old-fashioned family dinners," which, of course, a man like Snow could never refuse. That, Lightning knew, could not have possibly been sanitary.. or sane.
"Lets face it," Fang'd said, "These Cocoon folks are pretty wasteful when it comes down to it, and you know what that means," a pause, as if it were some sort of joke that Lightning and the others supposed to be in on, "Waste not, want not!" This, of course, sent Vanille into a fit of giggles and snorts as the two laughed together and waltzed down the street with the other hopelessly confused three in tow.
"Ridiculous," the soldier chuckled, crossing her legs on the threadbare couch. It was hard to believe just how comfortable she'd gotten with this kind of living in the past few weeks, even as Fang had to interrupt her solace as she did every so often. She glanced up to find the woman doing just so at that very moment.
"What you sittin' there smilin' all dopey-like at," she was saying, "Festering in your drool like an old grandma that's been sat out in the sun too long without a hat, huh?" Lightning smiled even wider at this, lopsidedly, as she watched the Pulsian in her toil over the stove, all hot and sweaty and reeking of cajun spice. She heard Vanille's giggling over towards the door, the tink-tink of swapped bangles and jewelery complementing the soft sound.
"Yeah, Light," the ginger chimed in lightly, "you're starting to make us worried!" The wee bit of concern she held in her voice was shadowed by yet another girlish giggle as she continued playing in her jewelery and make-up. "We're so used to seeing that frown on your face, it just doesn't seem right to see it upside down," she joked. Fang agreed with a laugh.
"Yeah, Snow 'n' Serah didn't fry your little noodle on the way here, did they?" the other woman asked, wiping her face with her shirt, which was a black and blue flannel, made only slightly less out of place by a pair of rugged jeans. "Or is all this not workin' junk finally gettin' to your little head?" she continued, tugging at her ascot, which oddly seemed to be satisfying.
Yes, it had been a shocker at first, but apparently, Fang did know how to wear real clothes after all, much unlike Vanille, whose apparel stayed in much the same rubric as always, minus the leather and furs, as it was now summer. Fang, of course, claimed that she only wore "normal" clothes to blend into the rest of the little town, but as Sazh always pointed out, her attempting to blend in anywhere was a lost cause from the beginning, what with them being legends and all. Plus, the whole ordeal with Vanille's insistence on all things eccentric, including issue with not fixing the house up - he'd made sure to include it all in that last little mini-biolog of his. Biologs, of course, were journal entries. The pilot was a huge fan of those, since Cocoon technologies such as biojournals and pocket-tops would run on Pulse without a hitch, just like they did on the world up there; interestingly enough, they seemed to work better. That didn't make them any less detestable
Lightning glanced up to catch Fang's hand waving in front of her face. "Hey, Pulse to Lightning, wakey-wakey," the woman said, half-amused and half-distressed. "You been readin' too much fanfiction lately? Yer' daydreamin' again."
"Huh?" the soldier blinked, glancing between both the warrior and Vanille as they kneeled in front of her. "Is something wrong?" she asked.
Fang laughed at this. "You were out of it, sister," she said, "I'll make a note to get one of those bandanas from Snow to put on your head the next time you go out. Seems to work well enough for him." She smirked at the reaction this particular line got.
Lightning's eyes narrowed. "Oh hell no," the woman responded, blanching at the thought of having one of those things on her head. No way was she ever wearing one of those bastardized ski-masks over her hair - her beautiful, luxurious hair. That was worse than the golden laced skirts proposed for the guardian corps. Oh no, no, no.
Again, the woman burst into a fit of laughter, standing up to go back to the stove, which had begun smoking, "Alright then, but don't come wailin' on me when the big ol' belated egg in that head of yours gets fried up nice and crispy." She cracked a big smile, "Vanille, you stay there and keep an eye on her before I burn the house down, alright?"
"Mmhm," the girl nodded chipperly, turning to Lightning, "You're not going anywhere, missy!" She grinned, the action contradicting her stern words.
Lightning sighed as if there were actually any real authority in that statement, "Right." That had been the exact same thing she'd said to her on her first escape attempt from the "inane asylum," also known as Fang's hut. Then again, that had been after they'd cornered her like a hog-tied gorgonopsid and hand-cuffed her to a bed post for the better part of an hour, whereby she constantly worried over the possibly imminent molestation she'd be receiving from the warrior in the kitchen, who'd mentioned that the situation was more than a tad kinky. Of course, when it came to anything other than violence, nature, or sex, Fang had the IQ of a rock, so that was to be expected; why Lightning had bothered to acknowledge "sex" as a part of that list, she didn't know. It was easy to see where Vanille got her table manners from, looking back on that. And she remembered that still further back in that day, right around that time, Sazh had come to visit, hence the new biojournals lying around, detailing all of this horror, biojournals which he expected everyone to use – the jerkwad.
He'd brought Dajh with him too, the cute little kid sporting a chocofro rivaling that of his father's. The explanation being that in the end, Sazh just couldn't give up his bird, so he went and fetched another one to keep his son happy. Too bad that the thing took up nearly half a head of space. The kid looked like he was carrying a yellow cannon ball on his head, and it wiggled at the most inopportune of times. Lightning had to refrain from asking him where all the poop went, sitting across from him on one of the beds. Something smelled fishy there, and she absolutely did not want to find it, but oh, how the curiosity stewed in her very soul. It was the same way with Sazh. Oh yes, even Vanille had mentioned this to her several times in their admittedly small, yet growing number of slightly meaningful conversations.
That was a new one too. Talking to Vanille had been one of the first new pleasures of being stuck in this rustic hell hole that she now loved to call home. Sure, she had Fang's ever so stimulating banter to play along with, and that had been fun for the longest time, but now that they weren't on the prowl anymore and waltzing about, smacking unfortunate, random creatures up-side their heads and blowing fal'Cie to kingdom come, trying to talk to Fang without innuendos attaching themselves to anything and everything was like trying to get a centurion to stop throwing its bolts at tourists; interestingly enough, the Oerban slang for centurion had been monkey, and bolts, poo. No wonder she and Vanille had nearly died laughing when Lightning had likened Snow's intelligence to that of a bucket of bolts, better known as a centurion. They'd joked on and off about it for weeks. Puns, she sighed to herself, the hilarity of it all.
Oh no. She blinked. She'd started smiling all over again. What manner of madness was this? She looked to Vanille, or where she'd expected the girl to be, only to find her no longer on the couch, but fidgeting excitedly and hissing to Fang in hushed tones by the stove, which to her relief, Fang was keeping at least one eye on. Seemingly, as if they'd felt that she was watching them, they both looked to her, concerned, then went to whispering again. Lightning caught the last bit, due to an improperly veiled statement, as Vanille's hiding hand was just slightly off the mark.
"She's acting weird, Fang. You think we should call Serah?" she asked worriedly, pretending to peek at whatever strange concoction that was steaming in the boiling pot on the stove.
"Maybe," Fang said, "I ain't never seen 'er grinnin' quite like that before." She shuddered and let out a chilled breath as if it were the creepiest thing she'd ever imagined. Her eyes returned to Lightning, who now was quite interested in their interactions. She nodded discreetly to Vanille, flipping her hair and acting as if she'd been cooking the entire time; of course, this sent the soldier smiling like a fool again as Vanille not so secretly sneaked to the bedroom, grabbed some things, and trotted outside, communicator and electronic biojournal tablet in hand as she went. Meanwhile, Fang turned off the stove and made her way to the couch, settling down with the obviously cracked woman as if it were the most subtle thing in the world. A moment passed.
"Hey there, Sunshine," Fang drawled, reclining, and as a result, slipping from the pinkette's peripheral vision. The soldier only smiled, leaving the woman staring at her, slightly dumbfounded. The Puslian squinted at this and took a deep breath. "Hey," she repeated, a little annoyed that she hadn't been acknowledged within the last few seconds or so.
"Hmm?" Lightning responded, mimicking the warrior's positioning in her seat; she absolutely adored the look of shock that this elicited from Fang. "So you're surprised too?" she asked, getting comfortable. It took a bit for the woman to register this. Lightning was just a tad too at ease for her tastes, apparently. Hmph, at ease! Lightning laughed – a soldier joke.
"Light? You okay?" the warrior inquired a tad nervously, as per the laughing, this reaction telling Lightning that yes, Fang was indeed surprised. Or at least, if anything, she wasn't taking this in stride, which was funny enough on its own. Again, Lightning cracked a smile and nodded as Fang's eyes went to the window behind them and she abruptly twisted around in her seat, aghast, looking to where Vanille's heels dangled in the evening air, swaying back and forth from the roof. She shut the blinds promptly and snatched the curtains to a close, muttering, "Damnable birds, not giving anyone any privacy." A startled 'eep' and a thud was heard from above, and again from below. Then, there was a gulp, and a near inaudible, "Oops," beside her. And from there, the horrible, stifling laughter gushed like water through a freshly broken dam.
Lightning had to fight not to burst into tears from the hysterical giggling this incited. As an added funny, birds was secret-speak for peeping toms, and Lightning had also called both Sazh and Snow bird-brains. Oh, this funny was just too much to bear, and not only that one either; she cradled her ribs, laughing even harder as Fang proceeded to nearly climb up the wall when Lightning's head fell into her lap, screeching like a little girl until a dirt and dust encrusted Vanille bursted into the room after her and herself began screaming; Lightning just would not let go of the woman, and to top it all off, the age old curtains that Fang had drawn to a close and was currently pulling on in her desperation decided at that particular moment to fall down onto her head, taking the curtain-rod with them on the way; thus, Fang's "damnable birds" were again able to steal their privacy. Oh, this was just too fast – too entirely too fast.. and funny! Hell, the woman had to remind herself to breathe, after all!
Vanille, who now had begun racing around in elliptical patterns, was completely hysterical. This did absolutely no good for the situation, as Fang struggled in vain to get away from the woefully insane woman. And then, the culprit of it all was discovered. Earlier that day, when the whole gang had come to visit, something had been left to chance, too entirely much so. Infuriatingly enough, something had not been put away and remained in sight for prying eyes to see – in reach for any and all who wished to claim it after who knows who had been and gone. There, on the counter, lay an empty, corkless bottle of champagne, which of course, lying among the rest of the clutter, Vanille had only mentioned to discover in the chaos, and which was now being waved around in her little arms frantically and juggled in the air in her desperate attempts not to drop it, running in circles around the room as the utter mayhem continued.
So was the scene, with a dirtied Vanille dancing around and squealing as she went, juggling a bottle perpetually about the living room and kitchen, and Fang clawing to get away from a flushed, giggling, and crazed Lightning as Serah strode confidently into the oblong, half-open doorway to the home, cool, oversized shutter-shades obscuring her vision and ill fitting, much more oversized, barbecue stained T-shirt hanging below her knees and leaving every curve of her otherwise lithe, athletic-sock-and-sandal clad body, sans nipples, to the imagination; and so after that was the downright unsettling, authority laden, "STOP!" in disbelief that the little girl had let out as a scream of her own, effectively rendering the entire room a freeze-frame as she caught her breath, with the exception of Lightning, who still clung to a petrified (for once) and silently panting Fang. The bottle fell to the floor with a clink and rolled to a stop, all eyes remaining on Serah, again with the exclusion of Lightning. Well, maybe half of an eye was on her sister; the other one and a half were still on Fang's chest as she pressed into it obliviously.
In a dramatic fashion, and with great flaire, Serah took off her shades in a gesture that was just as forbodingly sexy as was customary of Jihl Nabaat, surveying the area as Snow's head slowly poked out from around the corner, jerked up in surprise as he witnessed the scene, then just as slowly dipped out. Serah chewed the plastic leg of the sunglasses for a moment and rolled it between her fingers, grunting unsatisfactorily, hands on hips as she tossed the offending shades away. Now she looked to Fang. "What is going on here?" she inquired, leaving no room for excuses in a manner that was decidedly Lightning-esque.
Bitch-Jihl and Bitch-Lightning all in one, Fang gulped. You'd think she's done this before, she thought, though that was not so. Then again, it may have been. Lightning had told horror stories around the campfire about the time that she had been traumatized, trapped in a closet by one of Maqui and Yuj's salad-toss-tastic Mother May I sessions the time Serah and Snow were out on a date in Bodhum; as the story went, the two boys had taken to some very interesting role-playing over Snow's bed, role-playing that involved massive amounts of viagra and lotions in places where a certain technicolor green-haired half-transvestite boy was apparently oblivious to all the yes you may going in Snow's name. She'd mentioned that the only way she'd escaped had been the two love birds' return. No wonder Lightning hadn't been too sweet on Hope's continual pun, "Snow, you're s'not."
"Well?" Serah asked, tapping her foot rather impatiently. Fang blinked.
"Er, nothing much?" she whimpered, hands up in the air - no telling what the little Farron might do if she so much as tried to lay a hand on the soldier. Lightning, as if hearing this fear, proceeded to giggle, tongue lolling out of her mouth. Then, suddenly, she fell to the ground laughing, and the warrior let out a premature sigh of relief.
The smaller pinkette gasped and leaned forward for a second, chewing her lip. Once it was clear that Lightning was unharmed, her attention turned back to the other women, specifically Vanille, who had attempted to take advantage of the situation and sneak out of the room. She put an end to that, of course. "Oh really?" she asked, to Fang, before turning to face the redhead, "Where do you think you're going?"
Vanille stopped in her tracks, stepping back a bit. Seeing the serious look on the girl's face, she assured, "Oh, nowhere, nowhere!"
"Yeah! She wasn't goin' nowheres, right?" Fang followed up, laughing nervously. If Lightning had been coherent at the moment, and if Serah weren't looking like a blustery, bothered behemoth, the both of them would have been laughing at the horrendously failing attempt; however, neither was the case. So it was idle giggling and rolling about the floor for Lightning and strangely terrifying miffed moogle-ish stares for Serah at that point.
Vanille worried, swallowed hard and retreated. She chirped equally nervously and gave one of the most sickeningly sweet looks to Lightning's sister, "Right!"
Serah rolled her eyes, scanning the room for something that seemed to be hidden from view and letting out a frustrated sigh.
Making good use of the moment, Vanille decided to tiptoe her way back through the kitchen and make her way to the living room before Serah decided to explode, or something else entirely undesirable. Spying Bhakti on the floor, the little bundle of joy, she gestured for it to scoop up the bottle by her feet and, well, do something with it too. He complied. Happy that Serah hadn't noticed, and seeing as he pushed it under the table, out of sight, she quickly dashed over and plopped onto the couch across from Fang, comfortably copying the woman's example of giving Lightning ample room.
Finally, giving up on her search, Serah gave the room one last, final scan, then, finding it relatively clean of incriminating evidence, she asked, "Are you sure that nothing is going on here?" The implication was resignation at first, with a hint of, 'I swear to the fal'Cie, heavens, and stars above, Fang, Vanille, if my Claire-y waire-y is like this because of some insidious plot of yours, I'm making her the head chef around here for a month and when Snow brings the whole freaking neighborhood, like he always does, over for a party or something, I'm telling them it's your fault that half of the guests didn't survive the aftermath, got it? And believe me, that's gonna suck, especially since everyone's gonna blame you.' With that, she gave a pointed look at Fang, which the lady seemed to shrivel just slightly under.
Suddenly, Lightning shot up from her spot on the floor, for once aware of her surroundings. She stared at the familiar intruder in her new home for a second, squinting until finally answering, "Yes," in a manner that was more of a question than anything, as if that would satisfy her. Now, at this, Serah laughed, and came to sit with the others on the couch with the strange change in dynamics.
"Oh Claire," she said, ruffling her hair and helping her obviously drunken sister onto the cushiony seat next to her, whereby the woman draped herself over the girl's arguably much tinier form. "Snow, it's safe now!" she called from her spot in the middle of the thing, and laughed as the entire landing seemed to shake with his enormous footsteps.
Fang, now slightly less rattled, yelled at him, "Hey, watch it! This place is delicate, you know!" The warrior waved her fist in the air, despite knowing that he couldn't see it, then settled down as the floor rattled more softly than before. Satisfied, she reclined back, kicking her feet up and propping them on the table.
Bhakti, beside her, beeped in protest, the words, "I just cleaned that!" popping up on his little screen in all capitals.
She grumbled at the tiny robot half-angrily, watching as Snow turned the corner and tipped his head in all sorts of funny directions at what he saw, "Sure, you complain about me, but oh no, when Vanille and Lightning do it, Bhakti's just peachy about it, huh?" She laughed, then burst into a fit of chortles at the irony. Bhakti let out an annoyed 'bloop' and rolled over to Snow, "sniffing" his feet and running into his unbelievably large boots repeatedly as the man blushed at the remark. Lightning joined in on the laughing as Vanille cooed as she so often did.
"Aww! He likes you!" the little tangerine melted, clasping her hands together as she sat on either side of Serah, with Lightning inbetween, and Fang, who now playfully sulked at her place on the end of the couch, sprawled out with her appendages laid in all directions.
Snow, however, continued blushing as Lightning gushed into Serah's ear in a hushed, yet still quite audible tone, giggling, "Fang's jealous 'cause me an' Vanille can do it! Isn't it great?"
Fang, who was now sipping on a glass of water, spewed it all over the table, much to a once busy Bhakti's displeasure. He beeped frantically, his rush to clean up the mess nearly drowning out Fang's, "I am not!" and Serah and Vanille's contagious laughter. Fang nearly snarled, "and don't you go taking this out of context, Farrons," she paused, "Lightning, Se-rah .. Vanille." As much ice as she'd tried to put in the statement, it ended up just being plain embarrassing. Snow appeared faint, watching Bhakti wipe up all the water.
Seeing this, Vanille sprang up and went to his side, leading him through the house. "Come on, sit down!" she urged, pulling him down to the opposite end of the couch from Fang.
"Serah?" he asked, "What's wrong with Sis?" He glanced over his wife's shoulder at Lightning, who salivated lightly over Serah's frame, laughing all the way. "I've never seen her like this," he said, looking on critically and thanking the stars that the woman wasn't coherent enough to complain about his little pet name.
Serah just smiled, waving off Vanille's concerned coos as she smoothed it over like a true spoken Farron girl. "Oh, you remember that one time we brought Lebreau over to my house for a change?" she asked, and Snow nodded. Vanille and Fang, who previously hadn't been paying all that much attention, now leaned in for the juicy details. Lightning's head swam with the memory of it all.
It had been a few weeks before Lightning's birthday. Granted, it could have been long before all this madness, but everything behind the l'Cie business was just a tad more fuzzy, now that it all had gone down. So, one day, some time back in the muddled and confusing whomps and willows of time, Snow and Serah had come back to the Farron's place for a while, Snow and his ubiquitously large self annoying Lightning to no end as he took up her favorite couch cushion as his bedding material. Remembering this now, she frowned, throwing an arm at him and moaning as threateningly as alcohol would permit, but soon went back to the memory as Serah began explicating even the smallest embarrassing tid-bits for Fang and Vanille's pleasure. Some of these, even Snow didn't want to entertain.
Anyway, the way it went, and most importantly, not the way Serah told it, since half way through the story, she was plastered beyond hope of return and in the process of alternating between making sweet num-nums and chewing on her sister's ear, and practicing her face-eating on a certain sexy Corona connoisseuse; and after that, Lebreau being the cause of all of this, of course, the lady'd managed to get Lightning into the same boat, which landed her also with num-nums, ear-biting, face-eating, and in addition, curling up in a pit of inebriation.. on Snow's chest. Lightning gagged.
The realization that she'd been huffing Snow's cologne for nearly three and a half hours and actually enjoying herself under the attentive ministrations of "Nibbles" and "Ritzy," as she'd nominated her new suitresses, had hit very, very hard. However, that moment of horrible, agonizing embarrassment was soon over when Serah moved over to another, even more horribly embarrassing story, the one with the Mother May I, specifically, and the closet. At this, Lightning zoned out and began 'nomming' on her sister's hair, quite loudly, too.
Again, Snow blanched, which did not go unnoticed by the Pulsians on the other end of the couch in their throes of laughter. Fang was practically wheezing, "You mean," she panted, "they were .. in your bed?" She inquired as to Serah's account of the story as she dropped her cup, the offending object landing on one of Bhakti's headlights and causing him to flail around and beep, "Damnit, you insufferable human!" displaying on his screen. Pulling him into her lap, she slapped the protesting little bot, saying, "Naughty, naughty thing, you.. don't cuss."
Vanille chastized, "Fang! Don't!" She lowered her voice, "He'll say dirty things about you in your sleep again!"
Serah nodded in Snow's direction, answering Fang's question. The man's face scrunched up a bit, him apparently not having known or being too happy about the fact that his former bed had been the site of some underage woohoo. He appeared to be on the verge of tears.
The warrior, still chuckling about Serah's statement, then turned to Vanille. "Say dirty things? Oh please, he did dirty things, just like what I did to those pink panties of Lightning's that she'd kill me for mentioning if she wasn't so damn drunk right about now." She laughed even harder, setting Bhakti's squirming form onto the table and watching as he sped off and fell onto the floor, careening around the room in a frenzy.
Of course, this was not without protest from Vanille. "Fang!" she squeaked, balling up her hands at her sides and looking all flustered. Serah smirked, watching as the now liberated robot took center stage in front of them, the thing bouncing almost excitedly as a particularly interesting thing happened. In projector format, Bhakti's screen faded to black, the lights in the room dimming automatically. Then, the words, "I'll show you," popped up on screen, looking malicious, before fading away.
Soon, Vanille's worries had faded away. Turning to Serah, she squealed, "Ooh, he's about to show us something!"
"Oh?" Serah asked, turning to Lightning, who grinned at her and nodded, still unaware of Fang's continual remarks about her underwear.
"Mmhm," Vanille hummed chipperly, nodding. "It'll be a few minutes for he gets started. Takes time for the files to load up!" Seeing the little Farron's sister, she smiled. "You should get some popcorn or something while you wait," she suggested.
The girl nodded and got up, nearly tripping over one of Snow's shoes as she went into the kitchen, and thus, Lightning now slumped over onto Vanille, much to Fang's jealousy.
"Oh, hello," she chirped to the new visitor. Lightning grunted in response, giggling. Meanwhile, a dialog box went up on Bhakti's screen.
Confused, Snow tapped Vanille's shoulder, leaning over and whispering something unintelligible. The text here, rather than being in universal script, was in Pulsian alphabet, so Vanille assumed that he couldn't read it. "Oh, it says, 'for the love of all that is holy, please have the children leave the room before viewing,' that's all," she answered him excitedly, chuckling as Lightning proceeded to be strange, "wonder what that's all about." She looked to Fang, who, in the darkness, had gone sheet white.
Snow's eyes widened. He ran his fingers over his beanie. "Uh, is that a content warning?" he asked cautiously.
"Uh..." Fang trailed off as a realization hit her. The woman gripped the arm of the couch stiffly. "Oh no."
"Yep!" Vanille answered, happy, and looking down to Lightning.
"Uh-huh," the lady slurred, "Good thing Hope left the room.." She laughed, oblivious to the odd looks she received in return.
"Huh?"
Minutes later, Serah had rejoined the others on the couch, Lightning, drunk; Snow, apprehensive; Vanille, excited; and Fang, afraid. She now sat between the warrior and Lightning, rather than the ditz and Lightning, as she had before. Snow looked over to her in concern, eyes flicking to Fang, whose fingers clawed at the dilapidated couch fibers repeatedly.
Now, the blinds drew to a close, and what hadn't been dimmed out from lack of lights, now became entirely invisible. Soon, Bhakti's screen began to light up with motion picture frames, and sound began to filter in through the static. Fang gulped, staring straight ahead. The picture faded to a dull pink room, with a yellow fold-out couch bed in the center. Two blurred forms walked about, circling. Some rumbling, and the camera came into focus, revealing Fang being chased around by a near naked Vanille.
"Ooh, my favorite!" Vanille, not the Vanille in the movie, squeaked, startling everyone, sans Lightning, who lay sprawled across hers and Serah's laps, enraptured and staring with big, goo-goo eyes.
Fang remained silent on her end of the couch, now quietly creeping upwards, as if she could climb over Serah's head and fall outside to escape whatever humiliating revenge Bhakti had in mind to inflict on her. Then again, she knew that someone would probably just grab her ankle and hold her there at the last second, dangling by her feet from the second story of a trailer over a potentially painful landing in Cie'th sand. "Eww," she said, unconsciously grumbling aloud, then snapping back to the television as a slightly blurred version of herself shouted at the camera, Bhakti.
"Damnit, Bhakti!" Fang shouted, keeping distance from Vanille as the two went round and round, increasing in speed, "Turn that off!"
The command was ignored as then half-nude Vanille cornered the young woman, the little robot coming in for a close-up. "Come on, Fang. He's just curious!" she said, gesturing to the thing, "Please?" Now she made a puppy dog face, unseen from the current viewpoint.
Fang blanched, both on, and off camera. The smaller version of Fang took a nervous step back, chewing her lip. "But Vanille," she pleaded uncomfortably, "this is dirty." She stretched out the last word as long as she could, squinting. Alas, to no avail.
Vanille's eyes darkened, from another angle, and her voice came low and husky, "Then let's be dirty together." Some ruffling, a lens change, and then the picture came in clearer, revealing some things that were quite questionable in nature.
At this, Snow choked and promptly tried to get up, covering his pants. The combined weight of Vanille and a near comatose Lightning was enough to hold him down, unpleasantly, however. Again, he glanced to Fang, who had frozen in her second attempt at defying gravity, and then to Serah, who was blushing and wide-eyed, the hand she'd laid on Lightning's rump seemingly remaining as her only remaining tether to the world of the living. As if sensing eyes on her, she looked back, stunned as Fang and Vanille's animated forms fell into the pull out bed on screen and the rest of the movie seemed to be replaced with bright, childish drawings, in crayon, of Fang and Vanille in various positions, sometimes accompanied by high pitched narrations and sound effects, the lights in the room now returning to normal. Bhakti, with a final ram into the table, and then into Snow's, and eventually Fang's foot, deactivated himself and parked into the corner, satisfied with his mischief.
Snow, still not recovered from his incident in his pants, stared slack-jawed at the others, wide-eyed. "Was that .. a porno?" he asked, decidedly uncomfortable.
No answer.
Lightning, by now, was off in her own chain of awful memories revolving around that little robot, Bhakti, and currently resenting having gone off to find the parts to repair the thing. Her first day in the Dia-Yun abode and Bhakti and his inexplicable perversions had recorded her in her sleep, lewd-dreaming, specifically, about Fang and Serah. That had been a tough one to explain.
"The hell?" Fang'd been rolling on the floor, cradling her sides for nearly an hour after that, "Serah and me? .. Bahahahah!" And the madness had only gotten worse.
"Damnit, Fang! I told you not to put ideas in that robot's head!" Lightning had screeched after the woman, who then had gotten up and, as always, headed for her old escape route, fearing for her life.
She'd put her hands in front of her, almost pleadingly, at this. "It's not my fault," she'd paused there, interrupted by the return of the near incessant laughter, "that he likes you!" Fang had finished the sentence with another bout of bahahaha's.
Lightning had never been so infuriated in her entire life, other than the time that Fang had commented on the cotton-candy pink underwear and boxer set that she had gotten from Serah and worn under her clothes for nearly a week and a half, which she later found out to be from Snow, pre-worn. Yes, that had to be the only thing that topped this particular incident; and, as she noticed, Fang had done it again – more subtly so, this time. Thinking of this, she gave the woman a boot to the arm.
Fang, startled, yelped, "Lightning, what the hell?" She cradled her chest, watching the drunken lady sit up with those big, green, wounded huntress eyes of hers.
"Lightning!" Serah and Vanille squeaked in unison, now aware of the situation.
The soldier slurred, grinning, "That's for my underwear," she trailed off, "Snow."
"What?" came Fang's response, as in, 'What in the hell are you on about, woman?' She and Serah exchanged glances as Lightning reverted to her previous state, making love-bites and slobbing on Vanille's arm.
Vanille, who didn't seem to mind the attentions, leaned over and whispered furtively in Serah's ear, who jumped at the first attempt, but listened in as the little woman breathed the oh-so joyous, secret words, "I think she's happy." With this, obviously directed at Lightning, the red-head pulled away with a chirrup, ruffling a protesting drunk's cottony hair lightly and watching as she mumbled and twisted around. Oh yes, because violence always means a happy Lightning, yes. "Let's call Sazh!" she suggested, looking to the sister on her right.
Serah looked as if she saw this as questionable, but agreed, "Okay!"
Alright, so, not my best work, I admit, but I tried, lawl. Written between classes at school, yay for effort! xD
Cheers! And reviews please? Pretty please? I'll continue?