Title: Laundry Day
Challenge: basket, scar, promise
Words: 605
Rating: G
Summary: There were certain things that Rikku was willing to negotiate on, especially when someone held her underpants for ransom. Written October 7, 2007.
Rikku struggled with the basket in her hands, thinking for the umpteenth time that it probably would have been a better idea to bring in her laundry in smaller loads instead of just one big heap. She didn't know how her wardrobe could be so heavy either; she mostly wore lightweight items to counter the blistering Bikanel heat.
Oh. There was that dress Yuna let her borrow; along with a couple of other articles of clothing from the last closet raid the cousins had performed. And there were the pair of pants that Paine hadn't realized had gone missing yet. She'd have to stealthily return those, maybe she'd stuff them in Paine's old bunk on the Celsius and pretend that they'd always been there instead. And then there were the signature lavender shirts with matching pants and…wait a minute. Those were not hers.
She spun on her heel, wobbling slightly as the basket on her hip distributed her weight improperly and made her way to the Machine Faction leader's office.
"Who died and made me your maid service?" she asked, dropping the laundry pile onto Gippal's desk.
He looked up from his paperwork and gave the pile of brightly colored clothing a brief glance. "Funny, I don't remember wearing dresses." He went back to the schematic chart he had been reviewing.
"You know what I mean!"
"I just stuck in a few things. You were going to do your wash anyway; I didn't think an extra shirt or two would kill you." He gave the clothes a second glance. "Nice undies, by the way. I always pegged you for the bright yellow ones; the green matches your eyes."
Rikku blushed fiercely and grabbed the offending article of clothing out of his hands, but he pushed back on his chair and stood up, holding her underwear high above his head and out of her reach.
"Way to be mature," she huffed, doing a little jump to try and snatch it anyway. She stared at the tiny scar that marred his jaw, wondering if he remembered that it was a scenario much like this that had earned it. He had been nine and had held her favorite doll hostage. He hadn't counted on her jumping up and slugging him, nor the fact that the chunky plastic rings she had been fond of wearing back then would actually cut skin. "Give it."
"Only if you wash my stuff for me." He stood on his tiptoes, adding another inch to his height.
"But it's practically your entire wardrobe!"
"Huh, I guess I could use this as a window decoration. You think we should have a green flag on the lightning tower?"
"Gippal…" the growl should have been warning enough for him, but of course all he did was give her that damn smirk. Okay. She'd play his game. "Fine, I promise I'll do your laundry. Sheesh, all you had to do was ask instead of pile it in with mine."
He handed her back her underwear, which she quickly stuffed into a pocket. "Thought you'd see things my way." He sat back down and picked up his papers. "Oh and Rikku? I'd like all my handkerchiefs pressed, if you don't mind."
Rikku was in the middle of repairing the brake lines for a hover when she heard the distinct sound of Gippal's angry bellow. She didn't know why he was so upset; not only had she pressed all of his handkerchiefs, she had neatly folded and put everything up for him.
She snickered. How was she to know he wouldn't like everything dyed a vibrant pink?