Summary: Lightning has seen and done many things in her life, some good, some bad; these are a thousand stories of Lightning's past, her life, and the lives that could have been. Fang/Lightning.

Warnings: Femmeslash; Flight, Fang/Lightning; Possible Farroncest; language, etc.

Author's Note: My first completed drabbles—a story of exactly 100 words; it's harder than it sounds—for my own 1000 theme challenge, one of my own creation. I've not quite got one thousand themes listed, but I'm working on it. As per usual, this is unbetaed, and this entry is written all in one day. Oh, and about the title, I don't even know, but roll with it.

Firefly

#001 — Photograph

A smile, cool and confident, curled at those lips. Blue eyes were burning with a challenge, with purpose. Her shoulders were squared. There was a haughty edge to the way she looked at the camera. She was so sure of herself, of her choices.

That person in the photograph, creased and crumpled in her fist, was one she could no longer claim to be. Lightning had lost that confidence, that surety, long ago. Since her branding, it had all been about extracting revenge on the government that had betrayed her, but now…

Lightning, for the first time, was truly unsure.

#002 — Acquaintances

Sisters? Blood and genetics aside, could they really claim such familiarity? It had been a long time since Lightning had a conversation with Serah, since she had taken the time to truly talk to her. They may have lived together, joined under a single roof, but they were barely acquaintances.

For all they had grown up together, they knew so little about each other. It was as if every day, they were trying to avoid one another. Lightning was too busy with work, with providing, to pay Serah any mind. Serah had school, a boyfriend, a life outside of Lightning.

#003 — Photograph

What the party never knew—what Lightning will never tell them, and what the only other two to know can never share—is what tears her apart. The loss, the sadness, the guilt. They all wonder, but none shall ever know what's killing her.

The memory of those warm lips on her, the nimble fingers chasing up her skirt as their hands interlaced together. In the few fleeting moments they had stolen, Fang had stolen Lightning's heart. Even now, the Pulsian held it in crystal hands.

She caresses the tanned, smirking face and smiles; tears splatter against the photograph's surface.

#004 — Knowing

It was so wrong, a betrayal of trust. Fang hated herself for following Light, hated that overpowering need to know everything that went on. Perhaps, then, Light would had the privacy she craved, and Fang would be blissfully oblivious. Alas, she was there, and so was Lightning, illuminated under the Pulsian moon.

For so long, they—Fang included—had held her on a pedestal, oblivious to, far away from the curses of human emotions and guilt. None had known the truth; that each night, their fearless, stoic leader would sneak away to indulge her sorrows.

Eyes closed, Fang turned away.

#005 — Home

No matter what they felt, how little they talked, or how much they were fighting. No matter whether they were angry or sad, if they were in trouble or worse. They said things, did things they didn't mean, but it was okay. It never mattered when it came to each other, nothing did.

When it came down to it, they would always return to each other. No matter what the circumstances, what twists and turns were coming their way, they were a family.

As long as they had each other, they had a home.

The Farron sisters sheltered each other.

#006 — Secret

Lightning had always known things, inexplicably, even as a child. The doctors had said she was perceptive, intelligent, that she developed faster than most. Lightning let them think what they wished; never shared the truth, she was smarter than that.

Things came to her in whispers, a voice on the wind. All her life, it had protected her. The warm, loving voice was the only reason she had not been in that car with her parents, why Serah was not a complete orphan.

She would never forget that exotic drawl.

Maybe that explained why she felt so safe with Fang.

#007 — Opportunity

Lightning was stoic, cold, unattainable to all but the most persistent; the soldier was not built for relationships, as she'd confessed one night. Fang, who begged to differ, was just stubborn enough to try it. Fortunately, a drunk Lightning was much more…agreeable than a sober Lightning.

Guess who was practically falling over on the dance floor?

Fang drained the last of her bottle, slammed it down on the bar, and pushed away from her seat. She'd be damned if she missed what could be her only chance; who cares if she'd be dead in the morning, it was worth it.

#008 — Children

Lightning had become a l'Cie, gone up against a corrupted government, brought down the world for her sister. There was practically no limits to the lengths she would go to in an effort to ensure Serah's safety, her happiness. This, though…it was stretching them.

There were many things Lightning would do for her sister but, as she slowly scrubbed the floor for the third time that day, she knew babysitting was not one of them. In future, she was shoveling it off on Vanille—at least the redhead actually liked kids, heck, the way she acted, she practically was one.

#009 — Sight

Lightning hated wearing them, hated the feeling of the cool metal sitting on the bridge of her nose. She felt like an idiot every time she put them on. In the past, Serah had often chastised her for not wearing them, though Lightning still refused unless she really needed them. It was begrudgingly that she was wearing them now. Stupid reports and their small print.

Perched on the edge of her desk, watching her pour over the papers, Fang tilted her head, smirking.

"I dunno, Light. I think they're cute."

Growling, Lightning pushed her pink glasses further up her nose.

#010 — Laundry

Lightning had proved to be surprisingly adept at domestic skills, Fang mused, watching the soldier carefully fold one of her favorite shirts. Then again, for someone who lived such a controlled lifestyle, it really should not have come as one. Though it was a wonder there was any clothes left for the soldier to fold, considering Lightning's habit of ripping them, and Fang's back, apart with her nails. But then again, Fang did like a little pain with her pleasure…

Fang leered at the innocently folding Lightning, tongue dragging slowly across her lips. Hm, perhaps another round was in order.

#011 — Dress Up

They had all waited in baited breath for the sight of Lightning, decked out in the black dress that Serah had picked out for her. Lightning showed up alright, but definitely not in the dress, unless the dress had miraculously turned into jeans and a turtleneck.

Serah was the first to react, dragging her sister off into the corner for a "nice conversation." Everyone watched, utterly put off, as Serah latched onto Light's arm, tugging her off. No one said a word, just stared.

Fang just smirked at them. "Told ya. Sunshine won't dress up for no one but me."

#012 — Vacation

Lightning circles around the house with the vacuum cleaner for what may be the fourth time before Fang has finally had enough. Damn it, vacations were supposed to be about fun, not cleaning up invisible dust. Sure, the soldier may have done this in the past, before Fang, but Fang'd be damned before she wasted their precious few days together.

"Damn it, Light. It's clean, already." Fang intervenes, finally. "Now c'mere."

After a moment, a small, warm body draped itself over hers. Lightning sigh, snuggling into her. Then again, spending the days cuddling on the couch seemed like an idea.

#013 — Storm

Lightning looked into the cold grey sky, her lips twitching upward in a slight smile. She could already feel the rain on the horizon, smell it in the air. Her love of rain and storms was an inexplicable one.

The feel of rain dripping down her cheeks, the electric buzz of the lightning, the rumbling claps of thunder. Lightning loved, even as a child, to stand out in the midst of a storm. It was something that her parents had often chastised her for. Maybe that's why she chose her name; perhaps as an act of defiance, or maybe remembrance.

#014 — Careless

It had happened in an instant; Fang thought the Behemoth was dead. She was wrong. Lightning had sacrificed herself to save her, to protect Fang from her own carelessness. She took in the unconscious, crumpled form of the woman she loved, felled by the impressive power behind its claws, she flew into a rage. Her clan had always been characterized by two factors; their amazing strength and their dangerous tempers. Fang had both of those.

"Come and get it!"

Her lance stretched out in front of her, standing protectively in front of the bleeding woman, Fang readied herself for battle.

#015 — Weapons

Everything in her time had been so simple; carved and sanded, forged and shaped—weapons of her own time were easy to use, simple to master. Cocoon, however…everything they made was overly complicated, mechanical, and utterly impossible.

"No, like this." Lightning nudged Fang's leg slightly.

Sure, Fang would never understand the elaborate, mechanical masterpiece that was Lightning's Blazefire Saber. Yet, as the soldier hugged herself behind her, slowly guiding Fang into the right stances, she thought it didn't matter. The fact that Lightning trusted her enough to teach her, and her close proximity, warmed Fang more than Light would know.

#016 — Tension

Everyone could feel it resonating from Fang, filling the room. Lightning was stubbornly positioned away from her, chatting quietly with Hope, and from across the room, the Pulsian had yet to move her eyes. No one knew of the bet, but they could guess; usually, Fang couldn't keep their hands off Light, and the soldier didn't mind—today, Light seemed to have no interests but ignoring Fang.

The frustration was pouring off Fang in waves, and they could all see the restless way she was shifting. Serah watched with a smirk. Apparently, Fang really couldn't go a day without sex.

#017 — Trapped

Lightning had been gone for almost two weeks, and everyone who knew her was beginning to worry, when Fang finally received word. It wasn't from Lightning, but her old Lieutenant, Amodar. She had been both relieved and horrified at his news.

The cavern they'd been sent to explore, somewhere to the north, had collapsed in on the team. Out of the six sent, only two survived; a Corporal something, and Light. They were trapped for nearly two weeks with only rations and a canteen of water each, they were starved and dehydrated, but alive. She had rushed to the hospital.

#018 — Fire

Lightning remembered her first night on Pulse. Exhausted and drained, the kids had collapsed in front of the fire, shivering, trying to stave off the evening chill. Meanwhile, the elder members of the group, sans Sazh, went off to catch food.

That was how it was most nights; Lightning, Snow and Fang left to catch food, leaving the others behind. Vanille or Sazh would take turns cooking, and that was how it went. However, it was when they huddled together, soaking up the warmth of the fire, speaking in whispers about life, dreams, plans and hopes that Lightning truly remembered.

#019 — Phone

By the time they've known Lightning for a year, everyone knows better than to call her cellphone. It's a lost effort. Lightning never answers, not unless she believes it's important. Serah usually just gets dispatch to patch her through to Lightning's handset, the only sure way to have her answer.

Though, people wonder, why does she always answer Fang's calls? The huntress is known for calling for no reason, simply because she's bored, and yet Lightning picks up without fail each time. Of course, they don't know, haven't been told about them; because when it's Fang, it is always important.

#020 — Comfort

She puts on a brave face, leads them in the heat of battle, and hides the cracks in her heart behind that wall of silence. No one seems to notice, no one but Fang. Lightning may have been a soldier, but that doesn't mean she's invincible; she hurts, feels heartbreak and sorrow, just like anyone else, she just hides it better.

Fang can see it every time she looks into Lightning's guilty eyes; can see the way she wrestles with herself. That's why, at night, when the tears come, Fang takes her into her arms and swears everything'll be fine