Where are you? Why can't I find you? Why? I had been looking so long… Then you waltzed in, when I thought I'd given up hope long ago, and changed everything. Everything. You became a part of me. Now you're gone, and I can't make it through this without you. Where are you? Etro, I want you… I NEED you…

"… Fang."

The sudden snap back to reality left Claire "Lightning" Farron momentarily confused. She quickly gave her surroundings a once-over: in front of her on a coffee table was a plate with crumbs on it. Toast? Next to the plate was a mug with some liquid, slightly steaming. Coffee? Or maybe tea? Judging by the angle of the sunlight, it must have been around ten o'clock. She was sitting on one end of a couch which, she noted, was way too hard to ever be considered comfortable. Kitty-corner to the far end of the couch was a well-used looking reclining chair next to a relatively new loveseat. Lightning's eyes finally settled on the figure of her sister sprawled across the loveseat, feet dangling off the end. "What did you just say, Serah?"

The younger Farron cleared her throat, knowing her sister's sharp tone to be unintentional. "I was just saying, Claire, that I've met Hope and Mr. Estheim, Sazh and Dajh, you and Snow, obviously," Lightning groaned inwardly at the mentioning of her too-soon-to-be brother-in-law, "and even Vanille before things got really bad. The only one I never got to meet was Fang."

She's right, Lightning thought to herself. Serah had met Dajh almost immediately after they both returned from crystal stasis; the two had approached the group together. That was when she met Sazh and Hope (though they felt that they already kind of new her through Lightning, Snow, and that son of a bitch Barthandelus). Meeting Hope's father had happened later, in the ensuing months when the survivors of Cocoon worked to establish themselves on Gran Pulse. Fang's the only one she's never seen.

"You're right." Lightning replied simply, sipping her now lukewarm tea.

"What's she like?"

Lightning choked and sputtered mid gulp, keeping her cup to her mouth to avoid spraying the room. "What? Who? What's who like? Fang?"

Serah fought back a laugh at her sister's unexpected reaction. "No, Claire, the giant flan. Yes I mean Fang!"

Much to her dismay, Lightning suddenly found her thoughts and pulse racing. What's she like? Hell, where do I begin? Her looks? Her attitude? That perfect, infuriating smirk? The way she teases until I'm about ready to open fire?

"She's a good fighter, very strong."

"That's it?" Serah asked incredulously as Lightning hurriedly took her dishes into the kitchen. "I just watch you sit there with your mouth open zoned out for a full fifteen seconds and That's all you have to say? That she's a good fighter?"

"Why don't you go ask some of the others about her then, Serah," Lightning replied coolly as she moved to the kitchen to dispose of her remaining tea. She looked up to see her sister leaning in the entryway. "Would you mind?" she asked, motioning to the dishes she had just put in the sink. "I have to go."

"Go? Where? It's Saturday, you're supposed to be relaxing!" Serah countered. "What's going on with you, Claire? You've been acting so… different lately. You're you, then I see a little bit of the Claire I used to know, then you're neither of them! Talk to me, Sis."

While Serah talked, sensations were slowly building in the center of Lightning's chest. She knew what it was, and fought back, hard, frustrated at the stubbornness of her feelings. Steeling herself, she met her sister's gaze. "I'm fine. You're imagining things." She moved quickly, seeking to get out of the house, away from her sister's all-too-keen insights and probing questions. "There are just some things I need to take care of at the base," she said, grabbing her coat. "Make yourself something for dinner whenever you get hungry. I'll be back late tonight, don't bother waiting up." She was half way out the door before she finished talking, not daring to risk looking back into the prying eyes she knew would be following her.

"Claire…" Serah stood in the door frame and watched, a worried frown falling on her face, as her sister struck out towards the center now ever-expanding Oerba. With all the chaos with the fall of Cocoon, the abandoned city had been the only logical choice to set up first temporary, and then finally more permanent homes. One of the most active buildings was the military base, filled with former PSICOM and Guardian Core soldiers who now served as a semi-organized militia against the many beasts and predators of Gran Pulse. With her familiarity of the creatures and area, her sister was called on to act as a guide for scouting parties or as "backup" for any of the more particularly vicious creatures. Serah wished things would settle down so Claire could get some rest, or at least that she would take a day of, but to no avail. While she was a little bit closer to the Claire she used to know, she was still too much "Lightning" to let herself give in.

Still… What had been causing her to act so strangely lately? Serah would often times see her staring at nothing at all, hands working absently on some small task that had been completed minutes ago. Sometimes she would say something, only to have her sister dodge any questions and leave to go take care of something else. Other times she would just stand there and watch for a while, study her face. The older Farron always had one of two expressions on her face in those moments; either a hard, worried frown that Serah was reluctant to ask about, or a soft, ever so faint smile that Serah was, if possible, even more reluctant to ask about than the frown. Her eyes, though, were always the same: looking forward, into nothing visible that Serah could see. She wasn't sure where her sister was during those times, but she did know that where ever it was, it wasn't there with her body.

An idea stirred in the back of her mind, triggered by something "Lightning" had said. She looked at the clock in the entryway. Their ship should be returning in a few hours; maybe the others would have some idea on just what was going on with her sister.

Lightning moved at a brisk pace, keeping her gazed locked dead ahead, trying to focus her thoughts. She was furious at herself; she had been so lost in her feelings of longing self-pity that she had been caught completely off guard by Serah's question. What was even more infuriating was that she had made matters worse with her undisciplined reaction. Now Serah's never going to stop asking questions. Damn it all… A luckless street peddler made the mistake of marking her as a likely customer and stepped in front of her, giving his best salesman's pitch. As he told his friends in the pub later that night, he wasn't sure if she pushed him down first or just walked right through him, just that he inexplicably found himself on his back looking up at the sky and there were boot prints on his clothes.

She scanned the street ahead of her; the shops were abuzz with people: buying and selling of course, but much more commonly bartering goods and services. She paused for a moment, considering the sight before her and scowled. Something about it bothered her, but she pushed it aside for the time being. She was close to the base, but there was one detour she needed to make first….

~{*}~

Hey all! This is my first work of fan fiction, and I hope you all enjoy the ride! Please review, positive or negative. Special thanks and shameless plug toward OerbaFarron and Jack of All Spades - read their works! Love them, like me! Review them! See you next time! ;D