A/N: WARNING - Spoilers for Yusnaan in the game. Made slight revisions as advised by my beta and dear reviewer Bree, hopefully it's more enjoyable to read. Lightning always seems so stoic no matter which game she is in, however in LR I found her having the potential to grow emotionally from her missions, and she did show promise of letting up on that hard attitude. I just leaped at the chance to portray Light in a less serious, and slightly fun light (yes, pun intended). Constructive criticism is always welcome, do share your thoughts :)

'It's your city, isn't it? Luxerion.' He chuckled. 'I always knew it was.'

She helps out now and then with the repairs, when she had spare time – which was a lot now; something she surprised herself with. Since she did wreck his palace grounds (what kind of pompous idiot needed a palace) and Yusnaan's iconic stage set. She didn't look at him.

'Oh really.'

'Yeah,' he said. She hoisted a string of decorative baubles up onto the building, taking pride in her patch work. 'It's pretty. The City of Light.'

She hadn't faced him – but knew for sure the stupid grin stretched across his face. She snorted. He probably hadn't kept up with world news.

'That's pretty ironic.'

She reached down to arrange her tools.

'Ah, I haven't been there very often…not lately, especially.' Hand at the back of his head, chin tilted up. 'Say, Light,' eyes lit up, 'why don't you give me a tour?'

She turned around to face him, a hefty plank of wood in her palm. He stood just as she predicted – but yes, she forgot (of all things) the blink of his canines. They hid behind a pleading pout at her raised eyebrows.

'I'm busy.'

She turned and walked away. He barely sucked in his bandaged torso in time to escape her jibe (although, he was healing fast for someone who got pommeled bloody just a fortnight ago. Or she really should have punched harder.)

She heard his light laugh – it slot into place in her memories, in a crook between her lungs, in an inexplicable familiarity. She's known it before. Known enough to grasp at the elusive edges of what happiness was. He caught up with her easily.

'Go repair that scaffold and the ropes,' she said, nodding in its direction. 'I'll need it to pull up Bhunivelze.' The statue. She meant to say. Pull up the statue.

He gently lifted the plank from her hand, wrists on either side of her own.

She didn't think he'd be one to let go of audacious ideas just like that, but he went anyway jogging to where she indicated. She saw him begin hitting things in place, and returned to the building she was rescuing.

She didn't see him after she finished stabilising its foundations, when she climbed the sturdy scaffold he set in place. When the ropes were all properly secured she leapt down from her post neatly and fed one end into a machine that was helping her with this gargantuan task.

'The train at Yusnaan station leaves for Luxerion.'

It was noted that she should always trust her gut.

His blonde hair flashed in place beside her, large hands pulling a rope of his own. She didn't turn at his smile. (And only Luxerion, idiot, she thought but it didn't seem so humorously obvious now, thinking it aloud.)

They both hefted with combined strength, bringing the heavy monument slowly, but surely back up to its feet. The burn in her shoulders pushed against the beads of sweat on her forehead.

She only relaxed when she felt the base of the brass scrape the ground. Gods, she was fixing things like it wasn't the end of the world.

The proximity of his voice startled her.

'So, train leaves at 7.30. Don't be late!'

But he ran off with his fingers on his crown in mock salute, before she could ask, 'late for what?'

He found her two hours later, neatly admiring her work in the Aurgur's quarter and she didn't know how else to indicate she was pointedly ignoring the time (she thinks she's fixed the clock tower facing the wrong way, but he didn't seem to notice.)

He scoffed, jogging up to her. 'Just what do you think you're doing, Saviour?'

Incredulity found its way into her voice as she battled his handsome face in her mind. 'I'm saving your city, Patron.'

But she supposed they were 500 years too late to act like strangers, as she found herself keeping pace with him, elbow held hostage in his. She kept her vision skewed straight ahead.

'No way.' Blonde hair grazing shoulders, falling around his eyes. 'A date's a date!' Cheeky smile.

He surprised her when she finally could look at him, heated cheeks be damned. The knowing curve of his lips triggered his voice in her head. (Like what you see? Wink.) She hadn't known how he looked, hair pulled back into a ponytail – nor the smoothness of his shaven face. Nor him in a white shirt. But she did then.

'I thought this conversation was over two hours ago?' was all she could manage, and they were already treading dangerously on all those shaky edges of who they were that he didn't pick on the softness in her voice.

His clear eyes met hers, and he laughed.

'Well, you didn't say no.' Wink.

And maybe it wasn't enough for her to remember if they were always like this, or if the sure lightness in her chest was something completely new. But Lightning found that she didn't mind this new laugh of his – different, softer, larger – touching the layers in her mind; each laugh his eyes smiled that night brand new, deepening shades of light blue.

('You know…you could have worn a dress…'

'What dress.'

'You know. The one you fought in the arena for, to save me.'

'…I don't know what you're talking about.')