AN: next update may take a while, needing to slow down production process and think long and hard about the plot xD that and I'm sort of busy doing other stuff, so yeah…
Blackout444, I owe you a plate of virtual cookies ;) thanks for your reviews! :D
Arrival
It had to come, sooner or later, and Yuna knew that sooner would be better than later – less time to wind herself up over it.
They stood on the beach, watching Elodie and Tidus carry her jungle equipment into the cargo hold of the standard issue airship that had come to take her to New Home. Bayla's belongings had also been loaded on too, and as Tidus and El came back down the ramp, he kept his eyes firmly on the sand, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.
Truthfully, Yuna did feel sad about Bayla leaving, but at the same time she was excited for her – fayth knew what trouble she and Vidina would cause once they got together, and there were so many new things for her to do and explore. The analogy Tidus had reported back to her of being a chocobo in a china shop had been a very good one indeed, and Yuna was sure that Bayla would find her feet quickly. There was no denying her parentage, and given that fact, she knew her daughter would be just fine.
It was just a case of her being able to actually leave Besaid first, if she didn't breakdown completely and beg them to make her stay.
As Tidus and Elodie came to stand beside Yuna, they all turned to Bayla (Tidus staring at the ground still) and waited for a moment. She didn't know if Bayla would give a meaningful farewell speech, laugh it off with humour or just burst into tears – from the deadpan look on her face, it could be any number of different reactions.
Thankfully, El cut the silence before it grew to loud by clapping her hands together and saying loudly, "Well! It's was great seeing you guys again," she grabbed Tidus in a hug, before letting him go to grab Yuna. "I won't be down this way for quite a while, Gippal sent me a message last night saying I have to go look at this fungus growing in Macalania – woot. And then Baralai's got a mini project for me to work on," she proceeded to hug everyone else while she chatted, which eased some of the tension until she had gone to everyone, and returned to Bayla. El patted her shoulder and leant forward, speaking softly. "I'll give you a minute." Then she strode off to the airship and waited on the gangplank.
Bayla stared at the sand for a moment before looking up and meeting her mothers eyes. Yuna could tell she was scared – excited, but scared. Before the silence could become too painful Yuna stepped forward and enveloped her in a hug.
"Be good for your Aunt Rikku," she said with a smile as Bayla reciprocated. "And don't give El too much trouble,"
"I promise," Bayla murmured.
Yuna stood back, cupping her face in her hands and smiling at her. Bayla managed a small smile of her own, and turned her attention to Zuo and Deka who crowded forth to say goodbye. As with seeing Vidina off, Deka cried – but this time she managed to stifle them into a noisy hiccup. Bayla hugged her little sister fiercely before rounding on her brother. Zuo's scowl was probably there to try and cover up his own feelings, but he gave her a stiff, robotic hug all the same.
"I'll miss you," he said in strangled tones, giving himself away.
Bayla nodded mutely, not looking at him as they broke apart. She must have been close to tears herself after that admission of affection from Zuo.
Lulu said nothing, just offered one last hug and stroked her hair – Yuna could remember a time when Lu would do that for her, offering wordless comfort. Bayla was then swept into a bone breaking hug by Wakka, who said something gruff about taking care of herself and going easy on Vidina for him. She just nodded and said, "Thanks. See you," and turned to face Tidus.
This was going to be the hardest part, for both of them; it wouldn't be fair to say that Tidus loved Bayla more than he loved the twins, but there was a special relationship between them that wasn't quite the same as the others. She was, after all, his firstborn – the first hurdle in his role as a parent – and despite the spats they had and the one-upmanship between them, it was really Bayla who went out of her way more than her brother and sister to do things with her dad. It was hard to say who was dreading this parting more…
They stared at each other for a moment, before Tidus cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. "You be a good girl for me, won't you?"
"Yeah,"
Neither of them moved for a moment, and then they both lunged at the same time. Bayla tried to hide herself in his shoulder, and Tidus buried his nose in her hair, neither saying anything. For a while they just stood there, until he reluctantly let her go, and nudged her towards the waiting airship.
"Go on, you'd better get going if you wanna arrive before dark." He said gruffly.
Bayla made to turn away but flung herself back into his arms one more time, and he nearly toppled over in surprise.
"I love you, daddy."
"Love you, too."
She let go of him and made for the gangplank without looking back, as though she were worried she would change her mind. Yuna took Tidus' hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze as they watched their eldest daughter walk away. He squeezed back, but said nothing. He obviously didn't trust his voice.
Deka ran forward a few feet before coming to a half and half jumping on the spot, waving her arms. "Bye! We'll see you soon! Remember to write!"
Bayla paused at the top of the gangplank and turned to look at them, then she gave them a brave smile and waved back. "I promise!"
Elodie gave them a cheerful wave as she walked to one side and hit her fist against a button out of sight on the wall, making the platform lift with a loud screech of under oiled metal. "Later gaters!" she yelled over the racket, and a moment later the hatch was closed, blocking them from view.
A minute or so later, the airship whirred into life – it rose slowly into the air, hovering above the water in the bay, before it took off into the sky and disappeared into the horizon.
Yuna looked up to see a single tear in Tidus' cheek, which he wiped away impatiently. He sensed her gaze and looked down at her, before giving her a soft smile.
"She'll be okay,"
Yuna smiled back, and was about to say something, but Deka threw herself at them, really bawling her eyes out this time in misery. It startled them both, and any other tears Tidus may have shed were instantly forgotten as they tried to console Deka.
Zuo was staring out to sea as this went on, jaw screwed tightly shut as he fought to block out Deka's sobs, apparently trying to bottle up his own tears. Tidus gently handed Deka to Yuna before walking over to his son, slapping him on the back as he went.
"Don't worry," he managed to make his tone cheerful. "In a few years time, we'll be sobbing over your departure."
"You're making it sound like she's dead!" Zuo exploded angrily. "She's not departed. She's gone to a desert island in the middle of nowhere in the west ocean! Big whoop!" he glowered up at Tidus, before grabbing him by the waist and hiding his face in his chest. "Who cares!" he said mutinously, trying to cover up his melancholy.
Tidus exchanged a look with Yuna, and they both smiled. Apparently, all three of their children had inherited his over active emotions. Cheering Zuo and Deka up would distract Tidus from his own depressing musings for a bit, but she knew there were likely to be more tears before too long.
The question was, of course, whose tears would they be?
XOXOX
"Wake up, Dia."
Bayla jerked in her sleep, and struggled to drag herself into the waking world that was far too noisy and kept shaking beneath her. Elodie was nearby somewhere, but in the gloom of the cabin, she couldn't tell where.
"Say wha…?" she mumbled, trying to get her eyes to open and get her bearings.
Elodie had advised that she get some sleep, which Bayla had done, but now she didn't want to wake up, and she wished El would just piss off… They must have been flying for a while now, but she had no idea for how long or how much further it was to New Home.
"Nearly there," El told her, and something hot was pressed into her hands, that smelled like her favourite tea. "Drink this. I'll be up in the cockpit when you're fully awake," and her footsteps disappeared into the sounds of the engine groaning somewhere below them.
Bayla slowly came back to reality (drinking the tea really helped) and she checked her belongings yet again to make sure she had everything. Burgen, chest, guitar, satchel…it all appeared to be in order. Once that was done, she scuttled her way out of the cabin – a tiny room that was really more like an extra large cleaning cupboard – and into the cramped hallway beyond where the engines sounded even louder than before. This rig was the standard supply ship for long haul research projects like the ongoing one in the jungle, so it was hardly glamorous – or indeed comfortable. Everything was the barest minimum they could get away with, without compromising safety, so they could carry the maximum amount of cargo. This meant that the bare pipes and thin walls created the most horrendous amount of noise.
It made Bayla smile when she thought about her father's thoughts on craft like these. "I'd rather sit and listen to a sin spawn caterwaul all night!" which according to Rikku, was something they had actually done once before. When asked about it, Elodie would grimace and ask not to be reminded of the experience. Apparently, some things were best left unsaid. Bayla's mother just didn't talk about it at all – period.
At the top of the narrow rickety stairs was the cockpit, where Elodie was chatting away happily with the Zandal pilot. He had shaved patterns into his hair on the right side of his head, cropped closely to the scalp, while the left side of his head had shoulder length hair of green and brown dyed braids in the Al Bhed style. He turned to smile at her warmly as she staggered into the room, and she saw he had eyes that were two different shades of green, and she deduced he must be part Al Bhed somewhere along the line. True, the Psyches tatt on his left forearm after the Zandal's stylised fashion was another dead give away. Either that or he had married into an old Zandal family. Or maybe he simply liked the design.
"Hey, you alright?" Elodie asked.
"Yeah, sleepy," she rubbed her eyes and sat down in the other chair, gripping the arm rests as the ship lurched.
"Storm's ahead." The pilot said in a thick accent that seemed to be part Al Bhed, and part Bevelle oddly enough. The vowels had a cultured air to them, while the ends of his words seemed to tail off into a colloquial Al Bhed brogue. "We'll be landing just in time. Guess I'll be stranded here for a bit,"
"It's not storm season, is it?" Elodie asked, frowning at the premature darkening of the sky ahead of them.
"Not for rain. In the desert, rain and storm go hand in hand. This is a lectro-mag storm. They're rare, and a real pain in the arse." His accent almost sounded Stroma for a moment. "Beautiful to look at, but very dangerous. If we make it in time, we'll just miss it, but all aircraft are going to be grounded in about two hours from now."
"How long till we get there?" Bayla asked out loud.
"About half an hour, if we're lucky." He said nonchalantly. "It'll be a close call if this wind keeps hampering us, but that should settle as we get closer."
"Are mag storms as bad as our illustrious leader claims?" Elodie drawled, tapping her armrest in boredom. "Gip's always banging on about the importance of not taking risks in storms. He's a nightmare when we get sent to the Thunder Plains.
"Electromagnetic storms don't have any rain and very little wind. They scare a lot of people because of the silence."
Bayla gulped, wishing in vain that she was tucked up in bed at home with a cup of hot chocolate and Deka for company. She liked storms; she and Vidina used to sit at the entrance to the temple as kids and watch the monsoons come crashing down around them. It was the heavy sound of the rain and the gentle rumble of thunder that she found soothing, especially when she sat with her parents and watched through the window. The idea of lightning, without the rest of the loud and raucous sounds that went with a storm, was a creepy notion.
"Never seen one myself," Elodie mused thoughtfully, watching the storm cloud gather ahead of them. "This'll be interesting,"
"Yup. Pretty dull, to be honest. Everything's going to be in lock down. Again," the pilot groaned. "First a sand storm, now this bollocks…"
"Could be worse," El said mildly. "Least we don't have sin spawn crawling up our butts. I'd have a fit,"
Bayla stifled a snort of laughter. It didn't take much to make Aunt El have a fit, apparently…just introduce her to a couple of clam land scorpions and you had entertainment for the next six hours, provided you didn't get stung yourself.
"Oh yeah," the pilot said. "You were a guardian, weren't you?"
"Yup. To the best Summoner of all time," she winked at Bayla, who grinned back despite her unease.
"Sure," the pilot laughed. "They all say that about their summoner, yes?"
Elodie gave him a smile, and then her gaze flickered to Bayla and she pulled a face. "Yes, but I have real reason for my bragging." She insisted.
The pilot laughed, and left it at that.
It was actually twenty minutes later that they landed, with the ground crew running around like maniacs and dragging their belongings into a warehouse with great haste and chivvying them along as the black clouds rolled towards them ever more quickly. Bayla wanted to see the desert, in all the sandy, blinding glory her parents had described to her – but it was too dark to see beyond the high chain link fences, and the workers were trying to get them indoors as quickly as possible. It was another hour until the danger would hit, and they wanted all the necessary work down now to save them from repairing any damage that may occur later.
Everything happened so quickly, it was hard to get her bearings; Bayla rushed with Elodie to greet Rikku and Gippal, who were both genuinely pleased to see them again so soon. Rikku fussed over the bags under her eyes and her constant yawning, and so took charge of her immediately. Elodie gave her a quick hug and promised to find her later before Gippal swept her away to her 'new office' which made her shriek for joy as they bobbed along the next corridor, demanding enthusiastically, "Do I get a swivel chair? Yes!"
"Well now," Aunt Rikku said, grabbing Bayla's bags and handing a couple to her before she kicked the doors open and went outside.
Bayla gasped – it was even darker now than it had been when they landed!
"I know, these happen a couple of times a year, and we're over due. Pretty freaky, huh?"
"And there's really no rain?" Bayla asked as they traipsed across the flat rocky ground towards another set of buildings.
"No. I guess that's a bit weird for you, isn't it? Besaid's a monsoon hotspot."
Bayla squinted into the distance as Rikku fumbled for her access cards, and yelped when she saw a brilliant arc of purple like streak across the sky a matter of miles away from the base.
Rikku looked up, just missing the lightening, and Bayla described it to her. "Odd, it's normally blue. Anyway, this," she kicked the door open and heaved the burgen in before her. "Is the new student quarters. We've got a few other educational things going on, so you'll all be in this building, and the other old warehouse over there," she jabbed her thumb at the building in question across the small courtyard of stone blocks. After she slammed the door shut, she grabbed the bags again and led the way up the stairs. "Boys are having that side of the building," Rikku explained as they lugged their way up the stairwell. "And this side is for the girls. There's a bathroom and shower room on every floor, but you'll have to share it."
"How many floors, exactly?" Bayla asked, out of breath already.
"Just three. First floor's got a lounge, a games room, and a small sports facility in the basement. That's on the boy's side, and the girls have the dinning room, kitchen and Sphere room. Of course, you share the first floor with them." she reminded Bayla sternly, and she smiled to herself while her aunt fished in her pocket for her keys.
"How long will the storm last?"
"It won't be safe to be outside until about midmorning. Only when the sky's completely clear,"
"Okay. There's food and stuff downstairs, right?"
"Only base ingredients. You'll have to cook, I'm afraid. I have to go back in a minute; Gippal wants me on hand to look after the cresh."
"Oh," Bayla gulped. She was a disaster at cooking. Baking, she could deal with – she and her dad made the best chocolate sponge cake in the world. But cooking a meal? The most she was allowed to do was chop vegetables at home.
"It's alright," Rikku gave her a one armed hug. "Vidina's in this building too! He's out at the moment, and he may get holed up because of the storm, but if he's back in time he'll bunk here for the night. There's a couple of other guys in here at the moment – it's gonna get pretty crowded in a couple of weeks, though. Enjoy the peace while you can!"
The peace and quiet of this storm was going to freak her out more than being so far away from home, but Bayla didn't say so. At the end of the corridor they stopped at on the third flight of stairs, right at the end of a long line of doors, Rikku stopped and unlocked the door. Bayla's names was printed neatly on a wooden plaque in black ink, and it even had her Zandal family written on it too – it brought a smile to her face when she looked at the little carving of a moon lily beside the letters.
"Okay, so this is your room," Rikku went inside and switched the light on. "The power may go out this evening, so there's a stash of candles in the desk and a lighter over there. I would stay and help you unpack, but I have to get back,"
"That's okay," Bayla managed a smile, and Rikku gave her a quick hug.
"Here," she pressed something into her hands. "It's a communicator. I'm on channel 3-7-0. Don't hesitate to call if you need something, only when the storm hits I won't be able to come over. Okay?"
"Yeah, alright."
"I hate to dump you like this your first night here, but it's just bad timing with the storm. You're free to anything in the kitchen," just then her own communicator started buzzing. "Gotta go! I'll see you tomorrow," and with that she rushed from the room, speaking rapidly in Al Bhed to the panicked voice on the other end of the line.
Bayla sank onto the bare mattress of her new bed and looked around the room. It was much bigger than her bedroom, and square; the bed was larger, almost a double really, and she was glad that she always had over sized duvets that she piled around herself at home, because they would probably only just fit on this bed. It was situated against the wall directly right from the door as you walked in, right up in the corner.
There was also a huge wardrobe that she and Deka could both stand in quite comfortably with plenty of room to spare, set in the diagonally opposite corner of the room; the desk on the other side in the middle of the wall was also massive, with a more sophisticated computer than El's set up with a sliding drawer underneath that had a flat keyboard on it. There was a chest of drawers in the remaining corner of the far wall with a mirror bolted onto the wall above it, and a small washbasin in the corner beside a table with a sort of machina kettle beside it.
The window was shrouded with plain cream coloured curtains that reached the floor, and when Bayla went to pull them back she found that she had a large balcony with floor length glass doors that opened in sections so that she could use the whole as a door and the top half as a window. She unlocked it and stepped outside into the gathering darkness, and saw that only a few other rooms had balconies like hers.
Feeling pleased, she went back inside and started unpacking. Plain Zandal style jeans and shorts went into the bottom drawer, along with her many t-shirts and the few jumpers she owned. Then she sorted out different sets of pyjamas, before finally filling the two smaller drawers at the top with her underwear, swimming suits and socks.
Moving onto the wardrobe was daunting; for one thing, she only owned three dresses, and one skirt that wasn't part of her old uniform. The scariest thing about it was that it was a head taller than she was – totally different from the cramped space she shared with her little sister at home. The few really nice tops she owned, a trouser suit compilation, and a couple of coats went in there along with the dresses and skirt. Her shoes were just chucked in at the bottom in a heap, being too twitchy to make them look neat.
Besaid was sprawling and chaotic in its structure – not neat and boxed in like here. Nature didn't intend straight lines, that's why mankind had invented the ruler. That's what Lulu would say.
The few objects Bayla had brought with her for pure sentimental value were placed on the shelves around the desk, including a glass vase in blue and green, a stone paperweight made to look like a shoopuff that Zuo had made for her when he was eight, a delicate painting of a flower Deka had made in class and given to her when the coursework had been marked, and a handful of little knickknacks Elodie had brought home for her over the years. Everything from dyed chocobo feathers to seashells with symbols scraped into them to make the iridescent colours show.
Next order of business was the bed, and as she had predicted the bedding only just covered it. It was a real shame because it was Bayla's favourite bedspread, in a series of blue hues that flowed from dark to light in a random tie-dye pattern. The pillow at least was up to scratch, and after Bayla had forced the bedding down and thrown a patchwork blanket over the top, she carefully set her favourite cuddly toy on top of the pillow. It was as old as she was, and her dad had asked a friend in the Stroma to make it for him, and they'd had it refurbished over the years as it received more love and abuse.
Pent was a stuffed chocobo, fetched with real yellow feathers and dark brown buttons for eyes. She usually spent her days under Bayla's pillow in her room where she lay in relative safety. Bayla had cried her eyes out when she thought she'd torn the poor thing beyond repair, and so since she was eleven Pent had never left the bed, let alone the house. Now, she sat there looking up at Bayla with button eyes and a smile in her felt beak.
It made her feel much better.
After toying with the idea of going back downstairs for food, she took Pent from the bed and locked the door behind her with the key Rikku had left on the desk. It was completely silent, and she couldn't hear the other people who were supposed to be here – they might have been held up by the storm, and she hoped fervently that Vid would be here before long.
Before going downstairs, Bayla wondered past the next two sets of bedroom doors until she reached the end of the corridor, where another door stood in the wall with a glass panel window set into it. Beyond that was the communal washing facilities, and she went for a snoop round. The closest was the laundry room, with plenty of racks set up along the wall to hang clothes to dry, as well as a tumble dryer that she decided to avoid. El complained non-stop about how those things beat the living daylights out of her clothes so that they frayed and tore more easily.
Along from that was a shower room like the one at the sports facility in her school; a room for drying and dressing, and a long row of rectangular pods that separated the showers from each other by ten inches either side, and a heavy door with a shelf for soaps and shampoos.
On the other side of the hallway was a large room with toilets in stalls, and a long counter set with five sinks and an even longer line of mirrors. Curious cubes stuck to the walls were set over trashcans, and Bayla got the freight of her life when she idly waved a hand underneath one and found it started blowing hot air at her. Similar blocks were attached to the walls below the mirrors, and she found they dispensed soap in measured amounts. At school they had only one basin, paper towels, and an old fashioned bar of soap that smelled like disinfectant.
The three remaining doors right at the end of the building – two facing each other and the third set in the adjacent wall – were all large tiled rooms with raised daises that had huge sunken baths in them. All three had pastel colours; one was pink, one was green, and the last one was blue. Bayla made a mental note to call shotgun on this one whenever she could – the doors all had locks like the ones on a toilet stall, that showed green for vacant and red for occupied.
After checking the rest of her floor out, Bayla went back to the first floor and wandered around the boy's half. The lounge had mismatched armchairs and sofas with large beanbags on the floor around an old fashioned fireplace, all done up in clean creams and warm reds, with low coffee tables and scattered coasters all over the place, in the same dark wood as the bookcase that groaned from the weight of its load. Along from that was the game room, with a snooker table, an artist's easel set up in the corner, and another cupboard that had Spira's largest collection of card and board games. A small door in the corner led to the basement where a few pieces of fitness first equipment were housed under white sheets to keep them dust free.
Back upstairs and on the girl's side was the Sphere room, with a moderately sized screen and a wide selection of music and movie spheres to choose from, with another load of mismatched chairs and couches – this time in rich greens and browns.
The kitchen was about twice as big as Bayla's entire house, in plain black, grey and white. The cupboards had all the bread, cereals and preserves piled inside, along with a collection of bowls and plates that probably belonged in various sets but were just thrown in wherever. The drawers had cutlery and cooking implements, and there was an Al Bhed refrigerator and a chest freezer tucked into the corner opposite the cooker. There was an island work surface in the middle of this with stools spaced around two of the edges. At the other end of the room were two largish tables with wooden chairs of all shapes and sizes with patchwork cushions thrown around like a tsunami had just blown through. The windows had shutters that had been left open, and Bayla could see the light in the clouds quivering silently – the only sound besides her own breathing was the clock on the wall, which had the numbers going backwards and ticking over anticlockwise once she took a closer look.
After a quick scramble through the food stores to see what she could throw together that was hot and filling, Bayla admitted defeat and was about to go back upstairs when the lights flickered and went down for a moment before they came back up again. Wanting a candle just in case, she dived for the weighted door that had swung shut behind her as she entered.
It suddenly swung inwards and she screamed as she ran headlong into someone, convinced it was an axe wielding maniac or the fiend from under her bed coming to eat her.
XOXOX
Dustin had been on his way to the kitchen of his new dwelling to get something to eat before he holed up for the disturbing night, when the lights had dimmed. He'd made for the room with all haste to make sure he had a torch from the cupboard under the sink just in case, and run into someone at the door.
The someone screamed like a banshee and fell over backwards in their surprise, and he'd only just managed to maintain his balance. Once over the initial shock, he took a closer looks and realised it was a girl about his own age, who looked to be Al Bhed but wasn't…
It was another, totally different shock when he realised who it was.
"Fayth!" she said, visibly shaken. "I'm sorry! I didn't think anyone else was in the building,"
Dustin held out a hand to her, and she took it, he lifted her off the floor and she brushed herself down, still gushing.
"Are you alright?" she fussed over him rather like Aunt Rikku would.
"Yeah, I'm good." He was physically at least… "You?"
"Yeah, just scared stiff," she said flippantly, apparently over her trauma. "Lightning storm, away from home – out of the comfort zone. Ignore me, I'm rambling."
"Okay," what else could he say?
"Hey, aren't you Tarak's cousin?" she said suddenly, eyeing him up studiously. "From Luca?"
"Err, yeah. I am," no use trying to hide it.
"Oh, hey there!" she brightened up tremendously. "I didn't know you'd be here too,"
Neither did he, to be honest. And now she was here too. "Bayla, isn't it?" he asked her.
"Yeah," she nodded, smiling, and he noticed the stuffed toy in her hands. "You remember Vidina? Tall guy, red hair?"
"Yeah, I do."
"You haven't seen him around have you?" she assumed a stance that again reminded him vaguely of Rikku.
"Err, no I haven't." what would he be doing here of all places?
"Oh, okay. Thanks anyway,"
Dustin moved out of the way so that Bayla could leave, and made his way further into the kitchen. He found the dented cooking pot, a packet of raw pasta, and a selection of pestos in the cupboard over the kettle and teapot counter, alongside the coffee pot and the tea bags. Dustin snarled to himself and began banging his way round the room while the water heated, putting things in a more logical order and cursing every time he found a new stupid location for an object, such as the stack of teacups in the cereal cupboard and the preserves in with the frying pans.
The front door slammed from far off, and Dustin was going to ignore it when he heard someone scream and ran into the sphere room to see what had happened. Bayla was hugging someone and gushing excitedly like a little kid, and the guy holding her was the same red haired man that had looked daggers at Dustin after spilling his drink down Bayla's dress at the club.
Vidina set her down on the floor and grinned at her, and they both started talking really quickly at the same time.
"Fayth I missed you!"
"Only been a week, ya?"
"You got a tan already!"
"And you haven't, eh!"
"What's up with this storm?"
"I dunno, somethin' about the atmosphere. I only just got back in time. 'Nother five minutes and the base is on lock down, no one's allowed outside."
Then he looked up and he noticed Dustin for the first time.
"Hey, you doin' a course here too?"
"Yeah," it was only the art short course, and Tarak was bullying him on Rikku's orders to do something else as well, like metal craft or something weird…
"Isn't that what this building is for?" Bayla asked.
"Yeah, you seen your room yet?"
"Yeah. And have you seen the kitchen? It's bigger than our house!" she waved her arms to emphasize the point.
Vidina laughed. "I got my posters up and everything. Wanna see?"
"Show me," she commanded, and they left the room. She smiled and said bye to Dustin before they went up the stairs and out of sight.
He blinked before going back to his cooking. Evidently, Vidina didn't remember him, or chose to ignore that he did. They were obviously close friends who knew each other very well, who had arrived here at different times. And why should Dustin care? It wasn't like he was going to go out of his way to integrate into someone else's social group – the motive for coming over here instead of staying in the guest room was so that he could melt away among the myriad of people in this dorm building and remain inconspicuous. His plan was to hide in the art studio and the swimming pool when he wasn't in his room.
The pasta was nearly cooked when the other two came back down, and it seemed rude to try and take his food away to eat upstairs, so he sat hunched in the corner eating his meal while Vidina and Bayla swanned round trying to find something to eat.
"Hey, buddy, you gonna eat this?" he asked, poking a spoon at the left over pasta.
"Go ahead," Dustin shrugged it off, not looking up.
"Oh Vid, look!" Bayla lifted a bag of flour from the cupboard. "We can make a cake!"
"What happened to the balanced diet Lady Julie was always talkin' about, huh?"
"I've just been plucked from my home!" she whined, giving him puppy dog eyes. "By the roots! Can't we have cake? It'll make me feel better!"
"That's what Pent's for," he picked up the stuffed toy which Dustin now saw was a chocobo.
"Put him down!" she shrieked at him, diving for the ragged thing.
Vidina laughed but gave it back. She glowered at him before attaching the toy to her belt so that it was within hands reach and set about collecting eggs and butter.
They worked together in comfortable silence for a bit, until Vidina asked about his parents, and Bayla grinned before launching into a full blow by blow account of the last week in their village. Dustin tuned most of it out, but he gleaned a bit of information from it all; they were from Besaid, their parents were close friends, and Bayla had two siblings that she spoke of with fondness.
The rest was meaningless – people and places that he had never seen or heard of. It became white noise as Dustin thought about a chord pattern he had come up with, thinking it through over and over again to keep his mind focused instead of wondering. He finished his meal, and dumped the utensils in the dishwasher before going back to his new room, leaving Vidina and Bayla chasing each other around the kitchen with a salt seller and a pepper grinder.
Dustin hadn't done much to make his room more comfortable; it was littered with clean laundry and books, with bare walls and an overly large single bed that could fit two people quite snugly. He tried hard not to think of his old room in the inn, with his own posters and storybooks, and the pictures he used to paint. It was still too painful to contemplate… A rousing round of intense strumming on his guitar in mindless melodies helped keep the dark thoughts at bay, but it grew wearing on him after a while.
Deciding he needed get the rest of his drying clothes from the laundry room, Dustin went to collect them, leaving his door wide open. As he came back he saw Vidina and Bayla walking towards him with a plate of cake and two forks. Vidina gave him a surreptitious look, and Bayla smiled broadly.
"Want some?" she said through a mouthful of cake, offering a large piece that was dripping with melted chocolate.
"No thanks," he said reflexively, but regretted it as they walked down the hallway and into the last room at the end. Pasta was all well and good, but he hadn't had chocolate cake in a long time.
After more jamming and attempting to read, Dustin got up to go to the toilet, and ran into Bayla on her way back towards the stairs. She had the remainder of the cake, and smiled as she offered the plate to him.
"Can I twist your arm? I'll explode if I eat anymore,"
"Go on," he said, taking a small piece and eating it then and there to please her.
"I'll leave the rest in the fridge. We made two, so we can have cake for breakfast."
Dustin merely nodded, said, "Thanks," before he set off down the corridor.
"Night!" she called after him, and went back downstairs.
That night was mildly disturbing, aside from the normal nightmares. Storms in the Moon Flow were not exactly uncommon, but they tended to be loud events. This was eerily quiet, yet fascinating to watch – it was the perfect distraction for his mind. When he finally fell asleep, exhausted in the early hours of the morning, he had no dreams at all, which was a huge relief when he woke up to an almost clear sky.
Down stairs Vidina and Bayla were already eating the remains of their second cake, and again she offered for him to join them. He tried to give her a smile, but he was too tired to make it look that sincere, and politely declined. He had his porridge with a dash of honey on the top and sat at the other table, wanting to be alone.
The other two were still chatting when Rikku came into the room, looking tired and worn but happy. She beamed at them all – probably because she thought Dustin was being sociable – and told them the good news.
"Lock down is over. For now, the guys in the data log lab think we might have another one within the next week. Anyway, I have stuff for you all to do. Vid, get your butt over to the library, Rosie's gonna show you how the filing system works. Dusty, you can start in the studio. Bay, El's waiting for you with Shulay. Hop to it, people!"
Dustin dragged himself over to the block of buildings that dealt with education, and buried himself in the corner again with a vase and a piece of paper, beginning to sketch it. He found his mind wondering, but not back to the darkness; he was thinking about Bayla and Vidina, and what they were doing now. It wasn't any of his business, and he certainly didn't want them messing around in his, but he just wanted to know what they were doing.
Whatever it was, it had to be more interesting than this…
XOXOX
"Bayla, this is my old teacher Shulay. Kylia, this is my brother's daughter Bayla." Elodie introduced them in Stroma, and they shook hands.
Shulay wasn't what Bayla had expected; she was an aging woman whose hair was turning grey, and so the braids were not dyed, but the beads were just as bright as El's. Bayla had been expecting an ancient woman with a soft-spoken voice and less of an 'attitude' like Elodie. Although, they did say pupils took after their teachers – dad always said no one could be born naturally irritating like that…
Shulay wore a more traditional Zandal garb than El, with geometric shapes that came together to map out a family of bears in brown and grey like the bark of a tree. Evidently, that was her Shaman totem, and Bayla gulped at the thought of having to give up her water dragon in favour of a completely new animal token – yet another comfortingly familiar image torn down before her eyes.
The old woman's eyes were dark, almost black in colour, but they had that spark of intelligence she had come to recognise in several Zandal Shaman she had met before. She couldn't hide anything form this woman – she would have to do her homework when told and inquire how high if she was told to jump.
Shulay grabbed Bayla by the chin and turned her head this way and that to get a better look, tutting and muttering to herself as she did, then she went to her work bench and began making a pot of tea. Elodie motioned for her to sit down, and Bayla did as she was told, looking around the room for the first time. Bunches of herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling, and there were all sorts of smells and bells all over the shelves, as well as jars of preservatives with leaves and moss, and even what looked like a goat's stomach. It would have been repulsive if she hadn't spent the last fayth knew how many years in biology lessons with the infamous Lady Julie and her many pickled specimens.
But there was something about goats and stones and anti-venoms that she remembered Elodie talking about years ago, so it made sense to have one here.
A cup of tea was dropped down in front of her and Shulay said, "Drink. It's good for the mind," her accent was slightly stronger than Elodie's, but it was pleasant to listen to.
A cup was given to Elodie, who smiled and gave thanks to the Fayth before drinking. Bayla wasn't expected to give thanks just yet – that was part of a Shaman's training, and she was only aiming for Medicine Woman at the moment. The two adults chatted for a bit about what had happened recently in their lives, and Bayla's attention began to drift.
"Well," El said loudly in Spiran. "I have to go, be good," she ruffled Bayla's hair and put her teacup away. "I'll drop by later and see how you're doing. Good luck!" and with that she left Bayla alone with the older Shaman.
Shulay didn't speak for a long time, just looked her up and down, making Bayla feel jumpy and nervous like last night with that creepy silent storm. Eventually, she gave a sort of indignant huff and spoke gruffly.
"She thinks I only know what to do with you. I know more than that. Come, I show you everything in this room and then you start learning."
Bayla soon knew where to find the herbs, slaves, tinctures, pastes, plasters, wraps, pots, pans, plants, herbs, kettle and a number of other things that escaped her mind after the show cased animal brains in the cupboard. Then she was shown the books, and told she would be working solely in Zandal languages, and she sent up a prayer of thanks to the fayth that her father had brought her up speaking the three major Zandal tongues, otherwise she would be well and truly screwed right now.
The first task was to take a book without pictures that described various plants, their respective parts and what could be used to heal and hinder a person's health, and use it to find the right plant in the workshop. Shulay watched her from over a cauldron, and Bayla felt like a minion in a badly scripted gothic movie sphere Yasmine had told her about as she played the pitiful lackey and sorted out the herbs. She had been given a table to herself to work at, and she spent a lot of time trying to come up with a successful system of laying out the specimens, until she decided to find the plants first, and then spilt them and their respective parts up into the pro-healthy and anti-healthy piles, before separating them further into pro-organ, nervous system, brain and psychological well being, and then the anti's.
Shulay dealt with about half a dozen people in the mean time, not once disturbing Bayla until gone lunch time when her stomach was complaining loudly about the lack of food.
"Well, show me." Shulay demanded, startling her.
Bayla tried to explain her mini filing system, and the old woman inspected her work closely before moving a few things around, and switching the pro-health and anti-health herbs around so they were the other way round to how Bayla had laid them out.
"You keep the healers at your right hand," Shulay told her brusquely. "Always. The left is your defender, where you handle the poisons – it must be protected by your hand. Health needs encouragement from your working hand to help heal, so you must use your right hand."
"Yes ma'am," Bayla said, petrified she was going to get kicked out at any moment.
"But other than that, a good first go. Come with me," they left the room and went to a small herb garden near the kitchen facilities, and pointed at a bunch of weeds in the corner. "You recognise?"
Bayla crouched down for a better look, and realised that she did. "It's Summoner's Wort!"
"Yes." Shulay seemed impressed. "And you know what its for?"
"Err…" oh crap what had El said? "It fortifies the mind and soul and…stuff."
Shulay gave her an appraising look. "Summoner's drink this before praying to the fayth. It relaxes the soul and opens the heart – praying takes much from a Summoner's strength. But now, we need not worry about that. It also makes a good healing paste for deep wounds. Pick some now,"
They plucked the bundle from the dusty soil and then moved onto the rest of the garden. Bayla made a mental list of everything Shulay told her about the types of soil that were best for growing the more important plants in, and how they compensated for that here in the desert. When they were back in the workshop Bayla grabbed a piece of paper and started jotting down everything she had been told.
Something whacked itself smartly across her knuckles and she nearly fell out of her chair in alarm. Shulay was giving her a heavily disapproving look – a long wooden ruler in her hand – and Bayla cowered under the weight of her disgrace.
"What did I say to you? Before we began? You work in the Zandal tongue or not at all! Put that in the waste and start again. And you will speak only Stroma to me for the rest of the week to get your mind in the correct frame,"
Shamefaced, Bayla scrunched up her paper, put it in the trash can as opposed to drop kicking it across the room (deciding she might get smacked again if she did), and went back to start writing in glyphs. She was a bit rusty when it came to writing, but Elodie had taught her a few short hand tricks that she used in her own notes all the time, which Shulay made no comment on when she demanded to see them at the end of the session.
But before she could go, she was given one more task that involved picking up tiny coloured pebbles one by one and placing them in a tray. Shulay said, "Take as long as you like, and any order or pattern. As long as it's one at a time. Now prove my assumption that you have cloth for ears wrong."
Bayla tugged at her sleeve half an hour later to show the old shaman what she had done, and the woman looked almost pleased with the pattern that had immerged. Bayla hadn't even given it any thought; it was the outline of the Old Yevon symbol for the Besaid Fayth, but she had modulated the colours through it in a rainbow spectrum all the way along the neat lines that encompassed the design.
"I see. Very well, you may go now. You are to be here tomorrow after breakfast. I assume you shall eat at seven, and I expect you here at half hour past. Now go,"
Bayla staggered into the food hall after running into Kai, and they both demolished their food with indecent gusto. Apparently, Kai hadn't been able to stop and eat either for most of the day. Rose sat with them, and then Tarak, and eventually Vidina, and they spent a happy forty minutes talking together until they were called away for their duties.
Vidina had the next hour free, so they meandered around the base, and he showed her where the best sunbathing spots were and where to be in the stifling midday heat.
"But it's so dry," she exclaimed as they walked across the flat concrete towards the fence into the territory beyond the compound barrier. "It feels like someone's rubbed my throat raw with sand paper – and I've been inside all day!"
Vidina laughed and slapped her on the back. "Easy for some, eh?"
Bayla scowled and started ranting about how she had been subjected to physical violence when she hadn't written in Zandal. "How is that fair?"
Vidina shrugged. "The researcher I've been assigned to yelled at me for not writing in Al Bhed. Though Zandal is harder to write in, really…"
Bayla's knuckles twinged painfully. "It bloody well hurt,"
"My eardrums burst already, ya?" he flicked his ear. "See? Get's pretty noisy in the library for some reason, 'specially when your cousin gets mad."
They drew to a halt in front of the fence and stared out into the sandy abyss beyond. Bayla had never seen the desert before, and the most sand she had ever seen was along the Djose shore; this was one big sand box, where the sea was still beyond the horizon, and out of sight.
"Woah…" she breathed, tracing the chain-linked metal with her fingers. It was a lot to grasp for an island girl.
"I know," Vidina laughed. "I spent my first day out here – I couldn't get my mind round it! It's so huge,"
"Besaid's got nothing on this," Bayla lamented, thinking about Deka and Zuo playing on the beach without her, and the potential for playing blitz and baking cakes with her dad. And then there was the weaving and sowing she did with mom and aunt Lulu…
"Don't think about it too much," Vidina gave her arm a squeeze. "I got real depressed the few couple of days. Best thing is to find something to focus on, then you don't get too homesick."
Bayla shook her head, then looked up at him with a weak smile. "And I gave up life for this sandy dump? Wonder if I can get a refund…"
"You know, you're signed up for that art thing." He reminded her. "Normally you gotta pay but Gippal winged it for you on the house. But you're expected to work at it or else your parents'll get the bill."
"Yikes," Bayla gulped. "No pressure then…"
They stared out into the sifting sands for a few more minutes, until Bayla found the clouds more interesting, and Vidina had to drag her away. He left her at the door to their building, promising to come find her later but having to rush back to work on Rose's project. Making her way up the stairs, Bayla forgot that other people lived her besides her, and started treating it like the stairwell of the science block where everyone would run three steps at I time up and down just because they could. She was almost feeling at home with her childish eccentricity when she reached the top step and barrelled into someone, spilling the books they had been carrying all over the floor.
"Oh-!" she nearly cursed in Spiran but chose to swear in a little known Zandal dialect. "Drek! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking,"
The guy she had bounced right into was kneeling on the floor, looking up at her in shock after surveying the damage, and she realised it was Dusty.
"Sorry!" she gushed, trying to help him stack the books up neatly, her face burning. She had to stop bumping into him like this – he'd think she was a serial stalker or something after a while…
"No," he said, his voice somewhat vague and lost as though he wasn't really thinking. "Don't worry about it," he sighed heavily, and rested the books from her arms. "Really,"
"Still, I am sorry." She insisted. "I need to get my head out of the clouds!" she was expecting some sort of smile, but what she got was more like a pained grimace that turned up slightly at the corners of his mouth before he tried to slide past her down the stairs without a word.
Already wrong footed by the sand and the storm and the lack of humidity, his casual brush off of their encounter hurt. Possibly more than it should do, but her pride had always been prone to bruising anyway; that's what you got when you were best friends with a blitzing boy, and your dad bullied you into the team.
All right, she had bullied him into letting her on the team, but it still meant you had no self-respect when you let a parent drill you in that way.
After copying up a set of notes carefully in Spiran and locking them away in her desk (with Shulay no chances could be taken) Bayla sat down to play her guitar. One of the strings snapped painfully close to her eye and she fairly jumped out of her skin, but then she sighed and set about restringing the damn thing. She always had about three spare sets because they snapped easily in the daily cycle of temperature and humidity in Besaid. The only thing she would have to worry about here was the extreme differences between night and day.
When that was done she started gathering paper and pen to write home, snarling at the thought of having to wait for the new strings to settle. She sat down at the desk and stared blankly at the paper, wondering what to write. Then, thinking that she should wait just a few more days, to let her parents think she wasn't a nervous wreck and was enjoying Bikanel, but also to wait for something worth while to report on.
One measly storm didn't sound overly impressive…
That suddenly gave her an idea; Bayla left to wander round the base until she ran into Elodie, who gave her a hug and asked about her fist day. Bayla chose her words so very carefully until Elodie burst out laughing.
"Just come out and say it, your dad's said far worse about her. Shulay's scary at times, and demanding, but she'll be the best thing that happened to you in medicine."
El helped her find the resources department, where she was picking up her own crate of shiny new books, and made suggestions while Bayla tried to pick out a blue journal. In the end, she left with pencils, pens, charcoal, paper, and a few unmarked books as well as a couple for reading material. The Al Bhed had something they called a 'lekejuri' that was like a thin, glossy paged booklet that held various bits of information for fun and pleasure more than academic gain; Elodie gave her a couple on Zandal Medicines, all written in Al Bhed of course.
Again, Bayla was thankful she had been brought up bilingual – more than that, in fact. She didn't know how many languages she knew in total, though there were a couple where she knew just enough to ask for the toilet, order a drink, and insult one's mother.
Elodie said goodbye once they were outside, and Bayla went back to her room to start on her work. She wrote on the front of a green book the symbol for 'heal' and started copying her notes carefully in Zandal shorthand; then she took the rest of her new books bar one and placed them on the shelves above her. Next her new stationary was filed away into drawers, and then she started on the blue bound book she had left on the desk.
Wondering which language to write in took a while, but then it came to her in a flash of inspiration.
Carefully, she wrote out the date in the top right hand corner, and then underneath in clear Spiran, she wrote: Dear Diary…
XOXOX
As the days trickled past, a few more people started to arrive, and Dustin became extremely annoyed when Tarak kept coming over to visit him and bully him into socialising with the rest of the building's inhabitants. So much for trying to melt into the masses!
Although it did distract him, if only for a little bit.
Dustin was a master of people watching – when he was paying attention – which he hadn't been really lately. Once he got over his initial sulk, he almost started enjoying the time Tarak made him sit in the lounge and watch the people around him.
He kept a close eye on that Vidina character and Bayla, who had seemed overly edgy the first few days until she settled into an easy rhythm. She was often around the art rooms in the afternoon – covered in some sort of powder or nursing a new bruise, and a couple of times with stained clothes where some dark liquid had blemished her light coloured clothes. He gathered she was working with a Zandal on base somewhere because she was normally spitting blood about Stroma glyphs to Vidina in the evenings when they cobbled together something to eat.
Vidina was a trainee researcher, working with Rose and a couple of other older people in the development department, and Dustin gathered from his booming laugh and constant teasing – and a general lack of bitching about his own work – he was loving it.
The other's who had arrived included three kids from Bevelle between the ages of seventeen and twenty-six, who seemed unable to wrap their minds around the concept of life here in the desert; five people from around the Djose area (one was an Al Bhed); a Ronso youth who was already taller than the rest of them; and two Guado who seemed to get along with everyone.
It was an unconventional mix, since there were still small but isolated pockets of racial hatred loafing around, but this was severely frowned upon by most. It was oddly pleasant to be able to sit in a room of such accepting people, although they rarely ever approached him. It was probably his expression that put them off, and even Tarak gave up after a while when he refused to even join in playing card games with the others.
Dustin was watching for about a week until he encountered Bayla by herself again, and this time they didn't crash into each other. It was early one evening, when everyone else was out doing something weird at Tarak's invitation that had failed to catch his attention.
She smiled at him as he went into the kitchen to make some food, and said, "Heye,"
"Hi," he said back, and started pulling the objects he needed to cook close to him.
"Alright?" she asked, poking the kettle and staring wistfully at the mug in front of her.
"Yeah," he said automatically. Dustin didn't pay any attention to her (at least, he tried) as he started cooking. There were some meat leftovers in the fridge and he threw them and some vegetables into a casserole with a sauce he found in the cupboards.
"That smells good,"
Dustin looked up, startled. Bayla was sitting on the edge of one of the tables, watching him over the top of her steaming mug. She looked merely intrigued, innocently watching a housemate throw together a something from the dregs of the week's cooking; she was angling for a meal.
"Thanks," he said shortly, going back to his work, making sure the food didn't spoil on the cooker.
Wood scraped against the floor and he heard her footsteps until he almost felt her at his side. He gave her what he hoped was an annoyed look to make her go away, but she smiled sweetly and said, "How'd you do it?"
"Simple. It went in the pot." Duh.
Bayla blinked, and gave him a sheepish smile. "I'm not good at cooking. I don't do much at home, my mom doesn't let me. I just chop veggies."
They were silent for a bit, until Dustin rounded on her, and the innocent smile came back.
"What do you want? Why are you hovering?"
"Vid's out, and he usually cooks my meals. Could I steal some of yours?"
"Can't you cook yourself?" he asked, exasperated.
"No, I told you. I don't cook."
"What about that cake?" he reminded her.
"That's baking! It's completely different!" she insisted, and he almost laughed at her expression. "Do you bake?"
"Not really." He admitted. His mother used to make bread, but he had never learnt how.
"Tell you what," she put her mug down. "You give me some of that," she nodded at the simmering pot, "and I'll bake you a cake. What d'ya say?"
Dustin gave her a dubious look before he looked down at his casserole. "Make that ginger cake and we have a deal." He loved ginger.
"Brilliant!" she bounced on the balls of her feet before holding her hand out to shake. He was surprised by how warm her hand felt, and he noticed that the nails of her right hand were longer than her left – by quite a margin.
Then she dashed off and started gathering bits and pieces from the cupboards. When the casserole was down he put it to one side and started dishing out portions for both of them while Bayla was still at work. He didn't want to give her a smaller portion than himself, but he didn't know if she would eat that much. It wasn't until she saw his hesitation that she brushed his doubts off.
"I'm starving."
So he gave her a large like his own, and they sat down to eat it quickly so she could make the cake. He found it fascinating that she claimed she couldn't cook, when here she was making a cake. It was so fascinating he found himself helping her, and ended up crushing crystallised ginger for her while she whipped up a batter and somehow managed to zest a couple of lemons in the process.
"Enlighten me," he said after a while of crushing. "If you're that bad at cooking, how can you bake?"
Bayla gave him a grin as she effortlessly scraped the skins from the two lemons – without even looking. "My dad and I bake. Mom does all the cooking, and I always manage to set things on fire unless I use the oven for baking. Guess I'm gifted and plagued, really."
Dustin found himself smiling involuntarily. He remembered her comment on her Al Bhed heritage, and began wondering. Eventually, he started asking questions about her, which she was happy to answer.
Bayla was learning about Shamanism and training to be a Zandal Medicine Woman; Elodie à Stroma was her surrogate aunt, a woman Dustin had seen in passing, and her father was an adopted member of the tribe. He was a blitzer, and he taught the sport to the kids at her old school, where her mother was also an art teacher. She had two younger siblings who were fraternal twins, named Deka and Zuo.
"Zuo…is that Al Bhed?" Dustin asked as they mixed his ginger into the batter.
"Yeah, Joy. Aren't my parents imaginative? Deka's full name is Dekan memo. I'm the oh Peaceful one. I think it's great personally cause it makes me a walking oxymoron."
Dustin really did laugh this time; Bayla was anything but peaceful, from what he had already observed. She felt vibrant and energetic, even though all they were doing was bake a cake.
In went the lemon zest, and then they poured it into a pre-greased cake tin. It went into the oven and Bayla started juicing the four lemon halves into a jar.
"For my mentor," she told him when he gave her a questioning look. "Lemon juice is good for a few things – it kills bacteria and stuff."
"Huh," he breathed, looking at the oven door. "How long will that take?"
"Oh," Bayla shrugged and checked her watch. "Check on it at seven, should be done by then. So," she stretched her arms before leaning against the counter behind her and giving him a playful look. "I spilled my guts to you. Now it's your turn,"
Dustin instantly tensed up, and inwardly debated legging it from the room.
"I'd…rather not," he said slowly, watching her expression closely.
It fell, became confused, and then clouded over as she twigged what was going through his mind.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to…"
He shook his head. "It's not your fault. Or your problem."
Bayla bit her lip, sincerely sorry. "Don't talk about it, if you don't want to. We can talk about something else,"
He suppressed a laugh and gave her a crooked smile. "Blitz? Nice outfit at the opening match, by the way,"
Bayla flushed. "How I support my team is none of your business, mister."
"Loved the hair," he teased her.
"Shut up!" Bayla snapped, but she was smiling and laughing too. "I am proud of my mongrel heritage."
"Mongrel?" he was again intrigued by her use of words.
"Al Bhed, Spiran, Zandal, Besaid…my dad's a freak, so yeah. I'm a mongrel."
Dustin cocked his head to one side and appraised her again. Tall, slender, lean even; fair skin that didn't belong in this glaring sun and dark brown hair that betrayed her Al Bhed legacy. And eyes like two scraps of the sky, or two drops of ocean – again not remotely Al Bhed. Khaki knee length shorts, and a white tank top sporting the Aurochs logo, topped off with the rattiest pair of shoes he had ever seen.
Mongrels weren't supposed to be that attractive to look at, were they?
"What?" Bayla raised her hands to her face and started rubbing. "Fayth, I don't have a Yorik stain on my face do I?"
"No, just day dreaming." He admitted.
"Ever have that? Where you're talking to someone and tune out and start day dreaming, and you have no idea what they just said?"
"Not really," Dustin smiled. She must have been a nightmare at school. That Shaman must have put the fear of Yevon into her from the way she harped on about it – daydreaming sounded like a big no-no with the woman.
"Ah, must be just me then," but she smiled as she said this. "I have the attention span of a-" she stopped abruptly and narrowed her eyes at the window.
Vidina was standing outside, grinning at them and making odd sort of motions with his hands that Dustin couldn't quite figure out.
"Argh!" she snarled, and ran at the window. "Baka!"
Vidina legged it, and she flung the window open before jumping out into the twilit grounds, screaming after him in what Dustin assumed was Zandal. He could still hear Vidina's booming laugh as he ran away across the dusty grounds.
It was well past seven when she came back, and Dustin was curled up in the lounge on a sofa reading a book someone had left on the coffee table. Bayla stalked in with a face like thunder, and fell unceremoniously into an armchair where she proceeded to glower at the opposite wall.
"I want to go home," she said mutinously, and Dustin raised an eyebrow.
"So go home." He stated.
"I hate Vidina." She snarled.
"So don't talk to him."
"I can't. He's my best friend. You don't just ignore someone like that." She looked like a sulky spoiled brat, and it took everything Dustin had not to laugh at her.
"It's quite easy, actually." He said once he had calmed himself down. "I do it all the time to Tarak."
"Yeah, but Tarak's a douche bag," Bayla said, suddenly more conversational in tone. She sat up straight and gave him a very serious look. "He doesn't really count, does he?"
It was with great surprise that Rikku found them ten minutes later on the sofa, still laughing at the reel of insults that they had just put together for Tarak. After establishing that everyone else was out, and that there was a scheduled fire drill the next day, she left them with a rather confused look on her face.
Dustin managed to calm himself down and stop laughing, but one look from Bayla and they burst into fits of giggles again. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like this – not since before the storm that had wrecked the inn, at least.
Bayla just made it so easy to find a reason for laughing – especially at Tarak's expense! He wouldn't be able to look his cousin in the eye for a few days, not after what Bayla had just said.
Dustin sat back against the arm of the sofa and appraised Bayla as she slowly calmed herself down, and grinned at the wall instead.
"You're horrible," he told her.
She flashed him a grin and flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder. "Why, thank you! I've been working at it for years – does it really show?"
He supposed he had to take some of the things they had said about Tarak back – if he hadn't bullied Dustin into moving here, he wouldn't be sat here talking to her now.
"So, you want some of that cake now? It should be cool enough,"
They went back to the kitchen, and found that the cake had sort of collapsed in on itself like a pastry black hole. When they tried to cut a piece it just disintegrated into a pile of crumbs, and Dustin waited for Bayla's reaction to the fiasco.
"Fayth damnit!" she snarled, but then brightened. "Hey, I got an idea!"
This idea of hers turned out to be brilliant; she managed to find some treacle sauce in the fridge which they heated up and poured over the crumbling cake, and Bayla threw a couple of spoonfuls of cream on top.
"Hey, if it works," she said in answer to his questioning gaze. "Right?"
Dustin had a bowl of ginger cake and treacle with liberal cream pushed into his hands, and he couldn't refuse her. He couldn't quite work out why he was allowing her to make him do these things, where no one else had been recently. It was rude to decline, after all the effort Bayla had put in, but that wasn't it. It could have been the wish to please and be polite as a peace offering to ensure that he had an ally in here, but it wasn't that either.
It was the simple companionship she gave, with out demanding anything from him except his periodic attention. She didn't pry, and had so obviously backed off the moment she had hit a nerve – Bayla was very perceptive. And because her presence was so undemanding…it felt like the easiest and most natural thing to stand there in the kitchen with her, eating their near-catastrophic desert with relish.
Looking up, Bayla caught his gaze, and gave him a smile, before lowering her eyes to the bowl so she could scoop up the leftovers at the bottom. It was wonderfully peaceful while Dustin finished off his own, until Vidina came in with a couple of the others, and started giving Bayla an ear full of it.
"You didn't save me any? You bitch!"
"Back off, git face!" she snarled, threatening to bludgeon him with her bowl. "You left me! You don't deserve cake!"
They started a sort of catfight that quickly escalated into a full-blown punch up, leaving Dustin feeling severely wrong footed. Where had the serene and cake loving girl from five minutes ago just gone? He asked Tarak if those two were always that violent with each other, and he burst out laughing.
"Oh Dustin," Tarak clapped him on the shoulder. "You ain't seen nothing yet!"
XOXOX
