My little buddy turns out to be not-so-complex. I beg a handful of small parts off of a nearby mechanic, and within a couple of hours, the machina is up and running. And I mean running. He's definitely a patroller, and he either has a set path or thinks he does, because the second I finish him up, he's trotting out of the temple. I watch him go for a moment with my hands on my hips, lips pursed, debating the pros and cons of following it. The pros: I get to entertain myself as everyone has left me, and I get to enjoy the fact that I made him better. The cons: Uhm, what cons? With a little jump, I'm off after my new friend.

I guess I've tried to be more serious, more grown-up as time has passed, and maybe that's why Brother accused me of not knowing how to have fun. It's not much of an excuse, maybe, but...I just feel like everyone's watching me. People know my face, and they know that I've been a big part in world-saving at least once. I feel like they expect more of me, so I try to give them more. It doesn't always work so well-I mean, I am Rikku-but for the most part, I've learned to calm down a little more. Following a machina I just spontaneously repaired is probably the most honest fun I've had in months. I'm not about to admit that Brother is right, but...well, I will admit that this feels great.

"Hey, not so fast!" My thoughts must have bogged down my feet, because the little thing is way ahead of me at this point. I dash ahead to catch up to him, panting the tiniest bit at the pace it's setting. All those "balls", as my father calls them, may have made me soft in more ways than one. I give a thoughtful look down to my stomach. It's definitely still flat, but it might be a little less muscley than before. Well, poopie.

I'm definitely getting a workout, now. The little machina leads me all the way down the bridge and into the clearing that will lead me to Mushroom Rock Road, and then stops and settles itself down. Relieved, I plop down next to him, reaching out a finger to stroke his brown side. He's not so shiny. Someone should fix that. I give a glance to my white sleeves, debating, and then, with a shrug, start to polish. Even if I don't have time to clean it, there's always another dressphere. Changing your outfit at a whim is definitely a perk of the dressphere system-thank you, Shinra.

"Hey, speaking of Shinra, is he here? Do you know, buddy?" I ask the machina. He jerks, as if possibly debating my question. I laugh and give him an extra-affectionate polishing stroke. "Well, you tried. I bet you were too distressed to remember even if you had the capacity for it, though."

The machina doesn't make a lot of noise, and that just emphasizes the sudden fact that whoever is coming down the road sure does. I glance upwards, wrinkling my nose at the short, muscular Al Bhed male swaggering his way down a road. He's talking fast in our tongue, something about how "she didn't even see it coming", probably some sad sex story about a girl who would never know the damage to her reputation. He and his three companions are all wearing full masks-which is not that odd, I guess, except these are perhaps a little more extensive than usual.

They get to the little clearing and then, I guess, notice me, because the short one stops and stares for a second. "Yna oui Cid'c tyikrdan?" he all but sneers at me, leaning down to meet my eye at my level. Are you Cid's daughter?

I'm not one for being unnecessarily hostile. In fact, I usually love meeting new people. But...there's something about this guy that gives me the creeps. "What's it to you?" I ask, intentionally in Spira's native tongue.

He looks at me for a moment, frowning, and then, without warning, bursts into laughter. "E ruba oui'na yc mega res yc oui caas," he proclaims. I hope you're as like him as you seem. He stands up before I can think of anything else to say, and he and his buddies continue down the track.

The encounter seemed innocent enough, I guess...but something about them just gave me the creeps. Maybe it was the full-on mask, or the ringleader's strange attitude. Or maybe it was that question. Cid certainly has a reputation. Do I seem to follow that? Getting past that offensive thought, why would they want me to live up to my father's reputation? I feel violated, somehow. I abandon polishing my new friend and curl my knees into my chest, resting my chin on one as I stare thoughtfully at the machina.

"Maybe I'm just paranoid," I murmur, scowling darkly. "But...oh, Spira, I definitely feel violated." I give a small shudder and hug my knees. "You know, I really wish you were one for cuddling, Mr. Machina." Mr. Machina. Hm. Maybe I should name him...

"You know, not to brag, but I'd say I'm an expert cuddler if you're needin' a hand." That voice. I freeze, squeezing my eyes shut tight. Ohnoohno. This is not what I need. Maybe someone else has that crackling, easygoing drawl...

Nope. When I reopen my eyes and tilt my head towards the voice, its owner is painfully recognizable: Gippal, leader of the Machine Faction. Talk about painful history. We grew up together, and...well, I guess we kind of flirted off and on. He was older, a little mysterious, and after Yunie's pilgrimage I sort of started to think of him as...something more. Okay, I had a huge crush on him. It worked, though, 'cause he seemed to reciprocate the feelings I wouldn't admit to myself, flirting in his easygoing Gippal way. During the battle to destroy Vegnagun, I let my feelings show a little more when he was injured, and we...well, we didn't kiss or anything. But there was definitely some extended cuddling and the kind of talking that made me blush. I thought we had something. Those thoughts were dashed when I left and then returned to visit, only to find that he'd already moved on to some other girl. And that had been that. I'd avoided him like the plague. I haven't seen him personally until now.

His words are reminiscent enough of that time after the battle that I can't do much but focus on not blushing. I guess that's okay, though, because as I watch he settles down next to me. How odd, to see Gippal sitting during the day when there are things to do. I take the time to look over his somehow casual armor, the spiked hair, the eyepatch. Even with an impairment, he's easily the most attractive Al Bhed male I've laid eyes on. Not that I want to admit that. Or that I care. I got over my crush on him.

"So, what brings you here, Cid's girl?" he asks, closing his eyes-eye-and stretching backwards. "I mean, besides your party animal friend." He gives a lazy nod towards Mr. Machina.

"Pop's been talkin'," I inform him with a shrug. I hate how I automatically fall into such an easy cadence with him. It's absolutely unfair. "He invited us down to talk about this 'big project' he's been working on, and then forgot about it. We came down here and he won't even let us see what's up. I was hangin' around and found this little guy, so I decided to fix him up while I waited."

"Ahh." Gippal opens his eye and looks towards me. We Al Bhed have the same eyes, essentially, green with a spiral pupil. There are definitely different shades, though. Gippal's pale, almost-grey tone is especially appealing, and maybe a little more unique than I want to admit... "Right. The project."

"You know about it," I exclaim, sitting up straight, and then I slump down with a huff. "Of course you know about it. You're Machine Faction leader. You probably started it."

"Well, yeah, I started it," he says with a shrug. "Not 'cause I'm leader, though. I just have an especial liking to this project, y'know?"

Y'know. I wince lightly at the word that falls so easily from my own lips. Even for Al Bhed, we have such a similar way of speaking, especially around each other. I don't like noticing all of these connections, so I clear my throat and focus on weaseling some information out of him. "So, you think you can tell me about this super-special top-secret project?" I lean over to nudge him, giving my best grin.

He rolls his eyes, gives a long-suffering sigh. "Ah, Rikku, you're killin' me. Everything's still in development. At this point we don't even know if it's going to work, and since it's huge...well...I wanna keep it under wraps. Don't wanna get people too excited yet."

"Awwh, come on!" I ball my hands into fists and shake them around. "It's no fair to tease me like that. I know tons of people on the project, and I can keep a secret!"

"Can you, now?" he asks. I respond by fluttering my eyelashes at him, and he laughs. "All right. Here's the deal. I can't tell you anything right now-and I mean that." I start to pout, and he holds up a hand to stop me. "Buuut...I can get you the information as soon as we're on enough of a track to solidify it-as long as no one else knows."

I pretend to consider it, just to hide the fact that I'm definitely excited. If I delay my response, maybe I'll seem less interested. I definitely don't want him to think I'm playing into his hands or anything. "All right," I respond eventually. Poopie. That was a pretty excited tone.

And he notices, too, because he gives a smirk. "On one condition, though."

I gasp. "Condition! You're kidding. There's already a condition!"

"The first's not a bartering technique, that's just me not breakin' protocol," he responds easily. I resist the urge to add that, technically, it's protocol he created, so it really shouldn't matter. "Really, there are no conditions except this...and this one's not even that hard. You just have to hang around until I have the clearance to talk to you about it."

I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting, but this definitely wasn't it. I can't help but gape at him. "You're kidding."

He holds up both hands easily. "No jokes here."

He's not kidding, but I wish he was. Hang around the Machine Faction? Well, that might not be so bad, except for the fact that I'll be in close proximity of Gippal...and my father will have more of an opportunity to make me mad at him...not to mention those weird, fully masked guys. "I dunno, Gippal...I'm really busy."

"Busy? Doing what? The Gullwings are on break, and I'm pretty sure you've had enough social gatherin' for a lifetime," he responds with a grin.

"Well, I guess you could say...hey." I interrupt myself, turning to raise a brow at him. "How do you know about what I've been doing over the past year, Gippal?"

"I..." Another person might not have noticed something amiss, but after growing up together, I'm sorta trained to Gippal. I know when he loses his cool, and he's definitely lost it for a second. Is that a hint of a blush under that deeply tanned skin? "Paine likes to keep in touch," he says finally, retaining that easygoing tone. "Y'know. Making up for lost time."

"Uhh-huh." I pick up his tone with my response. How many times has he used that on me? Too many to count.

He knows when he's been caught, but he also knows how to wriggle out of it. He clears his throat and says, "Look, are you stayin' or not? I can always do without tellin' you what's up..."

I could ask what the point is in me staying. I mean, I guess it's convenient for whenever the project is advanced enough, but there's no real point in it. There are ways to contact me. I should protest. Should. That exchange loosened me up, I think, though. Or maybe I would have said yes without it. Either way, instead of protesting again, I find myself saying, "Well...all right then. But not forever, okay? I won't hang around for months. I'll get bored."

"Oh, there are ways to keep from gettin' bored, trust me." His light tone is accompanied by a not-so-light gaze, one that looks over my entire body in a not-so-subtle way. Did I shiver? I sincerely hope not. As quickly as the look came, though, it's gone, and he says in an almost serious tone, "There are always some of those machines to fix. You're a genius with this stuff. I'll even pay you if you want."

"Hmm." I tip my head back, basking in the compliments. "That does sound tempting..." Thinking of workers, though, makes me a little more serious, so I sit up and add in a completely different tone, "Uhm. Gippal?"

He picks up on the change in my mood. I can tell by the way he looks more alert as he asks, "Yeah?"

"How do you divide the uniforms of people? I mean, do they get goggles for some things and masks for others, or is it all just for show?"

He crinkles his brow, and I can tell he has no idea why this came up. "Well, it started out as uniform, and it really still is, but it also kinda defines rank. That just goes hand in hand, because higher ranks tend to need more protection an' what-not."

"Oh. So...what about the ones with their faces completely covered? Are they in charge of something?" I don't like that thought, because I was really uncomfortable with them, and in spite of his shortcomings, I at least trust Gippal's judgment.

My theory of them being supervisors goes out the window pretty quickly as I watch Gippal's expression. He sits up straight, brow furrowed, and looks straight at me. "What do you mean, the ones with their faces completely covered?"

I find myself mimicking his posture before responding. "You know. The ones with..." I draw an outline of a mask with my finger from my forehead to my chin. "...the full masks. The dusky brown ones? They have really, really dark lenses, too." This is added as I suddenly recall the strange fact I hadn't even paid much attention to when the short Al Bhed was in my face. "That's a little weird. Do they work in the desert a lot?"

Gippal looks very, very alarmed. He leans forward stiffly, and asks in a voice that is not at all laidback, "You saw these guys? How many? What did they sound like? What happened?"

Whoa. I almost want to back away from the intensity, but I hold my ground. "There were four of them. The ringleader was short, and talked mostly in Al Bhed. He asked me if I was Cid's daughter. I asked why it mattered. He, uhm, leaned in and laughed and said he sure hoped I lived up to Pop's reputation. And then all of them kept walking."

"Walking? Which way?" I point, and he looks like he might tear down the path, but instead he settles back down and leans towards me again. His hand comes up to grab my arm. Is it getting warmer in here? Oh, Spira. "Did he touch you, Rikku? I swear, I..."

"No, he didn't touch me. He just got a little too close for comfort." Kinda like Gippal is, now, but in a totally different way. "Why? Who is this guy? What's up?"

He doesn't answer at first, looking me over intensely for a long moment. I have to work hard to hold my ground, because backing away is definitely a strong instinct. Leaning forward might just be, too, but that is a Bad Rikku thought that I am not allowed to think. I manage to hover where I am until, eventually, he lets go of me with a gruff, uncharacteristic noise. "I dunno, Rikku. You're not the first to mention them. I can tell you right now they're not Machine Faction employees. No one's recognized them, and every time they see someone they've got a different description of 'im. They haven't done anything, yet, but I've just got this feeling...they mean trouble."

The intensity is starting to make a little more sense. "If you guys know they exist, why would they just go blazing down the path of the Machine Faction headquarters?"

"Not everyone knows about them. They seem to know who to avoid and when to do it. Somehow." He yanks a hand through that spiked hair, sending it into slight disarray. "If...if they talk to you again...or if they touch you...let me know. Please." He seems unsteady, which in turn makes me a little unsteady. Why press the point of touching?

I'm not used to this kind of intensity from Gippal. I have to take a moment to compose myself before I respond as easily as I can, "Yeah. Okay. I'll let you know." I'm still uncomfortable. This calls for a subject change. "So, where am I staying?"

"Staying?" He looks at me blankly, and then suddenly his easy-going manner returns in a quick, visible transition "Cred," he mutters. Shit. "I didn't think that one through. Uhm, well, most of us do go home or at least have our own places, but we did rig up a base of sorts under the agency building. Y'know, the one where you sign up for digging?" He raises his brows at me, and I shift, fighting the heat from overtaking my face. Of course, I know the place. I did work for him at one point. "Anyway," he presses on. "You can have the room that Nhadala uses. She's not gonna hang around long. She's only here during the day for-"

"The big, mysterious project," I finish, complete with a wistful sigh.

"Yeah. That." He grins at me. "Have patience, Cid's Girl. You'll find out in due time." He leans forward to pat my knee, and then, before I can really process anything, he laughs, stands, and is off.

"Cid's Girl," I mutter with a roll of my eyes. He very well knows my name. He said it earlier. He only calls me Cid's Girl because he's aware that the reputation gets to me. Well. Two can play at that game. I'll call him...something that really bugs him. As soon as I come up with it.

It looks like I'll have time, since apparently I'll be staying for a while.

As if on cue, Mr. Machina turns jerkily and lets out some kind of feedback, like he's laughing at me. I point at it threateningly. "Hey, I made you. I can take you down." He seems unimpressed. I huff and stand, stretching for a moment before heading back down the road that will take me to the temple clearing. May as well find Brother.

At least I can do a small amount of mysterious gloating to cheer myself up.