"I'm pretty sure that doesn't go there."
"I'm pretty sure it does. So shut up already."
"Wow, someone's testy today." He shouldered away from the hover she was working busily at repairing, stifling a grin. "What got your panties in a bunch?"
"Look, you." She turned on him, scowling, brandishing her wrench menacingly. "I've been working on machina longer than I can remember. Longer than you, even. I know what I'm doing." She blew her bangs out of her face, wiping an engine-grease coated hand across her sweaty forehead, leaving a long, black smudge. "Who even invited you to Bikanel, anyway? Don't you have a faction to run? Or anything better to do than get in my hair?"
"Can't say as I do," he responded blithely. "And, for the record," he said, tapping her forehead with his index finger, "I'm an Al Bhed. I don't need an invitation to return to the land of my birth. Call it…the Prodigal Son, returning home."
She eyed him warily. "Not for good, I hope."
He laid a hand over his heart. "That gets me right here. I'm heartbroken."
"Sure. Whatever." She turned back to the hover. "Don't let the door hit you on your way out."
He winced. "What's eating you? You're not normally so…" Cranky. Grouchy. Crabby. "Irritable."
"For one, you're in my light." She glared; he stepped a little aside to give her an unimpeded view of the machine she was working on.
"What else?" He asked.
"Huh?"
"You said 'for one', which usually implies that there isn't just one reason." He folded his arms, leaning against the wall, watching her work.
"Yeah, well, I'm a woman of contradictions," she muttered. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do. This fuel injector isn't going to clean itself. I've still gotta replace the catalytic converter, anyway. I swear, these new machines are pieces of junk."
"Come on, don't leave me in suspense. You used to like me." He resisted the urge to reach over and pat her fabulous behind.
"'Used to' being the operative term," she countered neatly. "Unless you want a socket wrench chucked at your head in the next five seconds, I suggest you absent yourself."
"I'll risk it."
He bent over her, placing his hands on either side of her slim arms, boxing her in. She froze, realizing she couldn't move without touching him. "Gippal, what are you doing?"
"Getting some answers. Come on, what's got you all prickly?" The fingers of his right hand slid up the exposed skin of her stomach, coming to rest just beneath her breasts. Her breath hitched in her throat. He eased closer, the heavy material of his pants brushing the backs of her thighs. He bent lower, until she could feel the heat of his body, like a furnace at her back, and his warm breath caressed her ear. "Don't make me resort to torture, babe."
"Don't call me that," she hissed. "I'm not your babe."
"Wrong answer," he tsked, edging his fingers beneath her top, sliding over the undersides of her breasts. He caught her earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently, feeling her shiver beneath him. "Come on, Rikku. What's got you cranky?"
"Cranky?" She spat, trying to shove her way out from beneath him. He was solid, immoveable, like a fucking brick wall. He would not be moved until he was good and ready. "Maybe I wouldn't be so cranky if you could keep it in your pants!"
He chuckled. "What are you talking about?"
"Tsuniya saw you!" She cried. "In Luca last week, with some tramp who had her hands all over you!"
There was a moment's hesitation as he thought back in confusion. Then, to her surprise, he laughed. "Oh," he said, between bouts of amusement. "That's what you're so up in arms about? It was nothing; don't worry about it."
Obviously, just telling her not to worry had no influence whatsoever on her anger. She slapped at the hand that brushed the curve of her breast in aggravation.
"It was nothing? That's your idea of reassurance?"
"She was interviewing for a secretarial position," Gippal said, brushing her hair out of the way to drop a kiss at the back of her neck. "She came on pretty strong, and I was fairly sure she wouldn't just give it up if I hired her, so I let her know that I didn't think she'd be right for the faction as a secretary, and that the other position she'd been trying for was already filled."
"Other…position?" Her voice was a little weak and breathy, but he'd just pulled her hips firmly into the curve of his, and she was having trouble forming coherent sentences.
"Mm-hmm. So were you jealous?" His fingers slipped past the waistband of her skirt, playing with the straps of her tiny bikini bottoms. One good tug, and the ties would fall away, leaving her completely bare beneath the ridiculously short skirt.
"Of…of course not," she gasped. "That would be silly."
"Don't lie," he chuckled. "You were totally jealous." He leaned a little forward, whispering in her ear, "Put your arms around my neck."
She obediently reached up, linking her arms around his neck. The movement thrust her breasts forward and up, and he didn't pass up the opportunity that had presented itself. His hand cupped her breast, thumb rubbing sensually over her nipple. She shivered, a little hungry sound escaping her tight throat. His hips rolled against hers.
"God, I love it when you make those noises," he whispered near her ear. His fingers trespassed too far below her waist for comfort.
"You can't want to…in the workshop?" She whispered incredulously.
"Why not?" His husky laughter in her ear made her shudder. "No one's around. I could close up shop for the night, if it bothers you that much. Although, there's something to be said for the danger of discovery."
"Are you crazy? My old man stops by a of couple nights a week!" She latched her fingers around his wrist, trying to drag his hand out of her skirt, but he was not so easily thwarted.
"If you're gonna object to the workshop, I'm gonna have to carry you back to your tent. I haven't gotten any for a week, since it seems you were in too much of a snit to come see me."
She didn't miss the faintly mocking tone, and it irritated the hell out of her.
"I had good reason to be upset!" She snapped, stepping down hard on his booted foot. He let her go with a yelp of pain. "And I'm still upset!"
"Why?" He asked, wincing as he tested his injured foot for weight. "I was a good boy. I told her I wasn't interested and sent her on her way. I didn't even try to look down her shirt or anything." He fixed her with an intent look. "It was pretty low-cut, too. Let me tell you, for a guy, that's no small feat."
He swept her tools on the nearby table aside, then grabbed her around the waist, lifting her into the air. She gave a little cry of shock, but he quickly deposited her atop the table, moving between her splayed legs. His hands remained firmly planted on her hips, keeping her in place.
She clenched her jaw, crossing her arms in irritation at being so manhandled.
He arched a brow. "Wanna know what I told her?"
Stiffly, she responded, "What?"
He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, chuckling over her indignant expression. "I told her I had a fantastic girlfriend whom I loved very much, and that I had no intention of cheating on her."
Her angry expression faded to a hesitant smile, her stiff posture relaxed. "Really?"
He rolled his eye. "Yes, really! What do think I am, stupid? I know you'd kick my ass to the Farplane and back if I ever cheated on you!" He flicked her forehead. "Besides, I got the best girl in Spira. What would I want with second best?"
She melted. "Gippal…"
"None 'o that in my workshop." A box of bolts clanked on table beside them, and Rikku jumped guiltily. Cid shot them a glare as he pulled on some work gloves and goggles. "You kids get out 'o here."
"You got it. See ya, Pops." Rikku scrambled off the table, ignoring the tools left scattered there, dragging Gippal behind her. She didn't want to be anywhere near Cid after he'd witnessed that sappy scene. Besides, she had other plans for the night. More important ones, involving Gippal in her tent and a bottle of chocolate syrup she planned to filch from the communal kitchen.