Chapter 25: Quite the Ado Over a Triviality

Hope figured giving Lightning an out would be best. Free him from the torment of not knowing what she thought or how she felt about them, make it easy for her to truly end things. But when she expressed her protest seemingly aggrieved, when she tried to explain through the halting words that poured out of her, when she touched his arm and he felt how nervous she was in her own way, he felt relieved; his hope was revived anew. There were still more left unsaid, so much more lingering between them, inchoate and persistent. Something about her simply tugged at his being, drawn to the orbit of her closed-off heart, a line stretching between them that, if she'd let it, could be called "love." But there would be time enough for those words to be sung out. The only thing he could really do was try to live up to his name when it came to the idea of "them."

Keeping up the ruse, Lightning and Hope made it seem as though nothing was amiss when the others returned. They leant against their respective car doors seemingly lost in their own worlds: Lightning frowned at the supposed message she found on her phone while Hope looked for all the world like he was the paragon of absolute absorption as he perused his magazine.

The drive back to Bodhum resumed, continuing as it had prior to the rest stop. When they reached the city he'd cited that work was calling for him and had Noel drop him off at the Estheim Industries building much to the protests of Serah and Vanille. Lightning met his gaze briefly, a softness in the blues that he would very much like to interpret as that of longing, swiftly veiled by her lids as she closed them and turned away.

It was only when they drove away that he realized he had forgotten to ask for her phone number.

Letting out a sigh, he switched himself on autopilot, absently greeting the guard on duty after scanning his All-Access ID at the door, brainstorming on ways to get in touch with Lightning without getting everyone apprised of their relationship.

Asking any of our friends for her number is definitely not an option, thought Hope on the elevator ride up to his floor. And hanging around her workplace stalker-like wouldn't really commend him to her coworkers or her boss, especially in regards to his already-blacklisted status. And even though he knew where she lived, having picked her up from her house just two days ago, it wasn't conducive to hang around there as there were her housemates to take into consideration, which he figured would rank among the people she didn't want knowing about them.

Once inside the Special Projects workroom, he flopped down on his chair and swiveled from side to side, head flipped back on the headrest, gaze narrowed against the recessed lights on the ceiling.

He wondered if it was natural to feel this topsy-turvy about someone: one foot halfway out the door, already wanting the abject yearning to cease, while the other side wanted the torturous longing to be prolonged, knowing that the wait and the gratification afterwards were worthwhile. Had he become a masochist?

Three days later, he still hadn't come to a conclusive answer to that question although he was now faced with something as equally perplexing.

"I still say," Maqui was arguing, "that we should create this prototype as human-sized."

"Well, I say," countered Hope, "that we should leave it in the same size as originally planned."

"Smaller means less waste on materials."

"Yes, but the original size makes it easier to fix errors since we don't need to continually scale down or scale up on the measurements. It's not unheard of to screw up calculations."

In the background there was a whir as the sliding door opened, but the newcomer was ignored.

"We don't have the proper facility to store this if we keep it mammoth-huge, you know," said the blond, tapping a rolled-up blueprint held on one hand against the palm of the other.

"Go big or go home. There's space in the hangar that we could appropriate for this project. And I've already checked it; we can book that space before the Airship Department does."

The Chief of Operations for the Special Projects Department shook his head. "That doesn't matter. If this project will go with you back to Academia after it's finished, how the hell will you transport it there? Let's be reasonable here."

Hope pinched the bridge of his nose out of growing exasperation. "That's what the multiple boosters are for. To help fly it where it needs to."

"Oh yeah? And where will you be storing those in the interim of your tenure here after this project is completed?"

"They'll be orbiting around in the atmosphere, of course. We've designed them to do that. It's in that blueprint you're holding, you should already know about it!"

"Whoa, whoa, hey! Time out!" interjected the newcomer, hands forming a T-position in front of him as he stepped in between the two.

The silver-haired's brows furrowed in puzzlement as he spied him, head tilting back in surprise. "Oh, hey, Noel," he greeted. "When did you get here?"

The brunet lowered his hands to his waist. "Just a few minutes ago." He turned and nodded to the blond. "Hey, man."

Maqui waved the blueprint in response. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Thought I could hang out here." His head swung back and forth as he stared at the two. "What are you guys fighting about anyway?"

"We're not fighting," denied Hope as he flopped down on the chair he had vacated earlier in the midst of the argument. "We're civilly discussing, albeit heatedly, on how we're going to proceed with our new project."

Maqui rolled his eyes as he set the blueprint down on the surface of their worktable, and hooked his foot under his chair to pull it towards him, swinging it backwards and settling himself down, his arms leaning over its back as he emitted a loud sigh.

"Is this it?" asked Noel as he pointed to the rolled-up paper, and the blond nodded in reply. He pulled a stool from under the table and sat, unrolling the blueprint and examining the project in question, blue eyes widening as he perused the contents. "You're building a robot?!"

"Yeah," they answered in unison.

"This looks cool." Noel looked up at the two sitting across from each other, relieved at seeing that there weren't any real animosity between them. "So what's the problem, then?"

Maqui piped up before Hope could begin to answer. "He's wanting to build it fullscale. But this is only a prototype and a lot of things could go wrong, so I suggested we build a smaller version first."

The brunet found himself nodding in agreement. "That sounds reasonable."

Maqui clapped his hands and then pointed at Hope, feeling validated and smug. "See? Even he gets it, and he's not even a technician."

Hope simply rolled his eyes.

Noel leaned his arms on the table. "Well, how big are we talking about here anyway?"

His adoptive older brother turned to him. "Mecha-sized."

The brunet let out a whistle as he tried to imagine the scale of that.

Maqui snorted. "Yeah, that big, but it's not even enough to actually fit a human inside to pilot it. At the most, you could perch on its shoulder. Super lame."

Hope's lips set into a thin line, green eyes narrowing. "It's going to be programmed with an AI that would enable it to function without having someone control it from the inside. Besides, it's a transformative robot, it'll be hard for the pilot to be inside if the robot changes form."

"Whoa, seriously?!" exclaimed Noel, feeling his excitement increase at all the possibilities this project presented. "What does it change to?"

Hope sat back proudly as he responded, "A fortress."

Noel half-fell off his seat. "A what?"

"A fortress."

Straightening, the brunet's mouth opened and closed as he thought about what to say to that. Of all the cool things his imagination conjured up, a fortress certainly wasn't one of them. Feeling at an utter loss, he simply settled for, "Huh."

A concerned frown perched on Hope's brow. "What? Were you expecting something else?"

"Well, yeah. Like a racecar or a motorbike. Heck, even a horse! Something that moves, at least."

Hope snorted, dismissing Noel's samples with a wave of his hand. "Well, that's redundant, isn't it? It already moves in robot form. It doesn't make sense to have it transform into simply another object capable of movement."

"But a fortress...isn't that by definition supposed to be able to house the person or persons it is protecting? What's the point of it transforming into a fortress if no one can even fit inside of it?"

"Whose side are you on anyway?"

"Whoa, come on! I'm on no one's side here. Just pointing out a flaw in this design."

"Oh, suddenly you're an expert, are you?"

"Oh, piss off, don't be a dick. I'm just trying to see both points here." Noel turned to Maqui. "How small were you thinking of building this?"

"I was proposing on building it as an armour first," answered the blond, fiddling with the goggles perched on his head.

The brunet sat back, impressed. "That sounds cooler than a fortress you can't even get inside of."

"Hey!" protested Hope.

"I'm sorry, bro, but it does."

The silver-haired harrumphed, crossing his arms.

"Well, there you go." Maqui shrugged, smug smile firmly in place. "That's two against one for the human-sized prototype."

"Who says he gets to vote? And that it's valid?" countered Hope.

"Gee, thanks," said Noel snidely.

Hope sat forward, chin resting on his steepled fingers, green eyes boring straight to his senior. "I propose to settle this issue like men."

Maqui narrowed his eyes at the challenge his underling presented. "You do, do you," he said in a low voice, standing up as Hope simultaneously did the same.

Noel's eyes widened as he stared back and forth at the two, rising from own his seat in growing concern as Maqui began to hop and skip around, waving his arms as he loosened his muscles while Hope rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. "Whoa, guys, settle down."

Maqui kissed his fists before performing a series of mock-boxing moves in the air, nodding as he saw that Hope was already standing at the ready, his own hands rolled into fists in front of him.

"You ready?" asked the blond, following it up with a kick in the air. "Hya!"

"Guys?" interjected Noel. "You're not serious, right? This is just a robot."

"Don't interfere. Our honour as technicians is at stake here."

"What the hell! What does that even mean?"

"I'm ready," said Hope, rearranging the bandana wrapped around his left wrist. "Best of three?"

"Sounds good to me," agreed Maqui. "One-two-three. Go!" He pushed out his hand, fingers spread open, then yelled out an expletive as he saw that Hope had formed a sideways peace-sign with his own hand.

Noel repeated his expletive in disbelief, running his hands over his hair. "What the fuck! Rock-paper-scissors?! Seriously?"

"Well, duh." The blond gave him a dubious look. "How the hell else are we going to settle this?"

"Well excuse me if I thought you two are going to fistfight over how to build a bloody stupid robot."

Maqui snorted. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Yes, it does."

"How are we going to build anything if we're hurt? That's highly counterproductive. For something like this, or heck even any other project, you need full-on concentration and physicality. Pain will only hamper the process and get us behind schedule. And rock-paper-scissors is the best, most efficient, and—most importantly—least painful way to settle things."

Noel could only stare at him, mouth agape, turning to his brother with the same bewildered expression.

The silver-haired merely gave him the equivalent of a facial shrug before taking up position once again. "Ready?" asked Hope of his opponent.

Maqui nodded. "Two more rounds. Alright, one-two-three, go!"

Back to their respective seats, Hope sulkily sucked his cheeks as he watched Maqui formulate new measurements for the human-sized armour prototype for Project Alexander.

Noel had been alternating between shaking his head and rubbing his hands over his face since the issue had been "settled" some few minutes before. Words had continually eluded him during the last rounds of the "settlement", but he felt as though he was finally coming to something that resembled what it was he truly thought of the whole situation. And thus he spake: "You guys seriously need to get out of here and get yourselves some girlfriends."

The two in question simply stared dumbly at him.

"Or boyfriends, if you swing that way," amended Noel.

Maqui snorted, looking back down to resume his calculations. "This, coming from someone who hadn't even made it to second base. I'll only be willing to listen to your advice if you've actually got some experience to back you up."

"Hey! I have my reasons. One: I respect her. Two: my people have customs against premarital intimacies."

"Aw, c'mon!" The blond laughed, putting his pencil down as he ticked a list of counterarguments with his fingers. "One: you're eighteen, therefore still counted as a teenager. Which consequently brings us to number two: your hormones are in a constant rampage. And three: your girlfriend is one hot sexy momma. I'm just saying, if she was with any other hot-blooded guy, well...you know."

Hope rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You know, Noel, for someone so eager to bring some ladies over to the villa—and heck, you even asked for my permission—it is surprising to discover your virginity is still intact."

A mixture of guffaws and snorts erupted out of the Chief of Operations as Noel turned beet red in a mixture of embarrassment and rage, his nostrils flaring.

"Oh, don't tell me widdle Noel is saving himself for a special someone," teased Maqui.

"Oh, yeah, you said something about a betrothal before, right?" supplied Hope as he recalled something he had learned in Gran Pulse. "Where you came from, wasn't it the custom for the village elder to arrange the marriages of the children?"

"Seriously?" Surprised, Maqui sobered up at this information. He turned back to the youngest male in the room. "So, what, are you waiting for your fiancée to claim you then?"

"No." A muscle ticked in Noel's jaw as he scowled. "I don't think she's alive anyway."

Puzzlement furrowed between the brows of the blond man. "What? Why wouldn't she be?"

"Monsters wiped up my village and I'm the only one who survived. At least, I believe anyway."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. Thanks." The brunet cleared his throat and attempted to lighten up the suddenly heavy mood. "Anyway, I am moving on. From the tradition, I mean. Just slowly. I mean it's not that I don't appreciate Vanille's...um, assets, I'm just—"

"Torn between upholding your village's custom—and thus carrying on the last trace of tradition left to you—and the struggle of succumbing to your hormones?"

"...Er, yeah. That's exactly it."

"Yeah, that's quite the conundrum. I feel you, man." Maqui's eyes shifted in alarm. "Not literally, of course. But you know what I mean. Someday soon, you'll join the ranks of us who've notched our bedposts."

Noel snorted. "I don't think your sessions with your hands count."

"Ah, how the young disparage their elders." The blond turned to his underling. "Help me out here, Hope."

The man in question lazily swiveled in his chair. "I don't know, man. I mean, between the three of us, I am the only one who had been offered the opportunity, and yea verily, even taken said opportunity, to have sex on a regular basis. I have succumbed to that temptation called 'teenage hormones'. I have sucked that sweet nectar of life and have partaken in that dance as old as time. I have seen the bright white light of—"

"Yeah, shut the fuck up. You don't need to wax poetic about being the only non-virgin in this room. So fuck off."

"'Notching bedposts', my ass," grumbled Noel as he shook his head at the blond.

Maqui straightened in his seat. "Well, if you must know, you're not the only one saving himself for a special someone."

It was Noel's turn to badger the blond, and he gave like for like with much sniggers and snorts.

But Maqui was not deterred, for he pressed on thusly: "I've decided that there's only one woman out there worthy to have me, and she's the Goddess of Boomerangs."

The brunet burst out laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his seat for the second time that day (and obviously for a different reason now).

Even Hope couldn't help feeling amused, allowing himself a small chuckle, although a niggling suspicion was tickling the back of his mind at what Maqui was next about to impart about his goddess.

"Yea, my brethren, dare ye to laugh now. But someday, one lucky Lady Tifa Lockhart will be graced by the awesomeness of this most masculine of all men." He pointed to himself, sitting tall and proud and preening in his chair.

The silver-haired cleared his throat. "Um...Maqui...about her...There's something you should know."

Maqui's smile froze, and he uttered through gritted teeth, "If you know what's good for you, you won't mention that. It never happened. I mean it."

Ah, so he already knows the news, thought Hope. Then, green eyes heavily laden with mock sympathy, Hope advised, "It's not healthy to live in delusion, man. She is taken. Happily so."

"No, she isn't."

"What's this about?" asked Noel.

"The woman he's pining for recently got married," responded Hope.

"Aaaarrrggghhh! Why must you crush my dream?" Maqui buried his head in his arms over the table.

"Man, I kinda hate to say this," claimed Noel, "but you're kinda pathetic."

Hope simply whistled a jaunty tune before saying, "That's payback for winning in rock-paper-scissors."

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XIII and its sequels belong to Square Enix.

A/N: I am, as always, grateful to the lovely reviewers/readers/subscribers/favouriters new and old alike! Hope you also enjoyed this one ^^;;

Rock-paper-scissors is SRS BSNS yo! *lol* I figured something light is in order as a follow up to the seriousness of the past few chapters.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated :)
May/2014