A/N: This was really going to be a one shot, but someone coughBivcough persuaded me to do otherwise. This isn't the best thing I've ever done, and I apologize. But please review. And I don't own a thing. Sorry.

Rikku was truly grateful to whatever deity, Yevon or otherwise, who had allowed her pleas to get through the Legendary Guardian's dense skull. She hated thunder, hate, hate, hated it, with a totalitarian loathing that would impress just about anyone. And yet, she hated the hotel they were staying in, smack dab in the middle of the Thunder Plains, even more.

Why? What on all of Spira could cause the Al Bhed thief to freak even more than traversing across a virtual minefield of lightning? Quite simply: she had to pee. And the only bathroom that was easily accessible to her was through the door. Which led to Auron's room. Which in turn led to the bathroom. Cred.

She lies on her bed, sprawled out every which way, and tries to take her mind off the terror inducing lightning and the steadily increasing pressure in her bladder. In the end, she growls another expletive and stalks across the room, sliding the door open slowly, and peering around, oh so stealthy.

She scans the lone figure in the room. It figures. It really does. The one night they have to double up is the one night that the Legendary Meanie decides to take a room all alone. Bugger. But he doesn't twitch as the door opens quietly, and she takes this as a good sign, slipping in and padding as quietly as she can across the floor.

She makes it across with only one or two minor mishaps, and has almost reached her goal, when Auron growls something and rolls over. She blinks, but upon no farther movement, dashes into the bathroom and bolts the door behind her.

Her business now finished, she flicks the light off and slinks back into the Forbidden Territory of Auron's room. She's almost halfway across, when something hits her like a piece of shrapnel. Maybe it's only an illusion of the lightning flickering, but there's something… sacred about the Legendary Guardian, sleeping, almost as though he was dead. He's abandoned his cowl, coat, and sunglasses, revealing a thin black top and leggings, bunched up to reveal the stomach of a god.

"Oh… my." She whispers, her good sense taking a sabbatical, allowing her to creep closer to the sleeping man in awe. She drinks the sight of him in greedily, a body designed by a master sculptor, with a series of slim scars across the eye and down the shoulder adding character instead of marring beauty. A wisp of salt and pepper hair dangles in front of his nose, stirring lazily as he breathes. It looks so soft, so wondrous, that she wants to touch it. She needs to touch it. Her hand creeps closer and closer, but she pulls it back as he twitches, and begins flailing around, trying to escape from something, or someone.

"No! Stop! Stoppit! Sweet gods, don't! Please! Oh… Bad Rikku! You nasty dirty evil girl! Stop it!" He continues flailing, lost in dreams, but Rikku is already gone.

She shuts the door, and draws the bolt, before negotiating her way around the bed of her sleeping cousin. She curls into a corner of the window seat, staring blankly out onto the Thunder Plains, illuminated more clearly by lightning than when the light of day filtered in. She chews on her finger, not noticing the tears dripping down her nose, or the splitting skin around her teeth. She sits like that a long time.

"Hey, Rikku."

She jumps about a foot in the air, or as well as one can jump while curled in a fetal position, and meets concerned brown eyes. "What do you want, Wakka?"

The carrot haired blitzball player ignores the false anger in her tone and sits down beside her, staring onto the plains pensively. "What's wrong, girl?" He turns as Rikku shakes her head nothing. "Don't kid with me. What's eating ya?" When she neglects to answer he frowns, rubbing his hair into its spike unconsciously. "You heard Auron talking in his sleep, dincha?"

Rikku nods, gnawing on her finger. She gives Wakka a pitiful look when he bats her hand away.

"None of that now." He sighs, and rubs his hair again. "Look, Rikku. I'm not sure that I should be the one ta tell ya this, an' mebbe you should talk to Lu about this instead, but you need to hear it." He grimaces, this was a talk he hadn't planned on having for a long time with anyone, much less a tearful Al Bhed. "Y'see, Rikku. Some nights, a man has a special sort of dream, a very special dream, and these dreams, these special dreams…" He takes a long moment to collect himself, and fails yet again to suppress his blush reflex. "And in these dreams, Rikku, a man dreams of doing something… special with a women he loves very much." He opens his mouth to elaborate further, but a small, somewhat salty hand clamps itself over his mouth, and he grins into Rikku's vaguely traumatized eyes.

"N-no more." She squeaks, absolutely disgusted, though probably more by Wakka's description than anything else. "I know. Or I'll ask Lulu. Yeah…" She blushes and stares at her bare feet, absolutely embarrassed.

Wakka grins, and claps her on the shoulder. "Good girl, ya." He turns to go, and calls softly over his shoulder, "Just between the two of us, ya, Auron's probably awake and in the common room by now." He slips out the door like a very brightly colored panther, leaving Rikku alone to contemplate her next move.