A/N: Disclaimers, etc. can be found on previous chapter pages. Many thanks to everyone who has bothered to review this so far. Yes, I am intending to finish this … it just might take a while. Your comments really do encourage me, though, thank you so much!
Locke winced as the helmet was batted off of his head; he watched it topple to the ground and roll away on the thoroughly packed soil, almost glad to see the annoying thing go. He could feel Kefka smirking at him, and he didn't like it. A hand jerked his chin up rather brutally, so that he was face to face with the general once more.
"You know, you should be glad I saved you the trouble," Kefka said, his grin bordering on maliciousness. "It would have been very hard for you to find Biggs, seeing as he left camp three days ago. Any soldier here would know that. So, that leaves me with the question as to who you really are …" He trailed off, his disturbing expression never wavering.
Locke bit the inside of his cheek, trying his best to keep a stoic face. He couldn't let anything slip; he would never be able to forgive himself if he caused trouble for either Edgar or Figaro. He was going to have to get himself out of this one on his own.
"If you wanted this to be easy, you'd have explained yourself," Kefka continued after a moment of tense silence. "I suppose you'd like to be difficult though, wouldn't you."
"I have nothing to say," Locke said in a subdued tone, running over his options in his head. The sentry still had a good hold on his arm, and Kefka was only a couple of feet away. Actual escape at this point was not an option. He'd have to wait until an opportunity came up.
"Oh, they never do … at first," Kefka agreed, his words almost amiable. "They always break though, eventually. The question is, how to break you. I suppose you're entitled to a fair shot to redeem yourself. Who is it that sent you to watch me? My father?"
Locke tried very hard not to think about what Kefka would do to him.
"Was it Figaro?"
He had heard stories of the general's unusual cruelty. He hoped it didn't come to that. But he wasn't going to say anything … he wasn't going to let Edgar down …
"I was hoping that would be your answer," Kefka grinned at his silence, and with deftly quick movements he drew his fist back before slamming it into Locke's cheek.
Locke spun back a little, shock registering briefly on his face before being replaced with a harder emotion. With a snarl he attempted to rush the general, but the sentry was quicker. Catching Locke behind the back by both arms, the soldier effectively pinned Locke in place. He struggled briefly but soon fell still, realizing that he didn't have the strength to break away. Kefka laughed, watching the scene with an amused eye.
"You're poorly trained. I almost pity you … so I'll give you one last chance," he said softly, calmly examining the nails on his right hand. Locke spat, ridding himself of the little blood that had split into his mouth. Kefka's lips twitched upward, and he took a step forward.
"Do you know how easy it would be to kill you?" he asked softly, leaning forward to catch Locke's angry eyes. "It wouldn't take much. Just a little blow …" he paused slightly as his hand flew up, stopping just centimeters from Locke's face. "Just the heel of my hand against your nose, and that would be that. Your cartilage would shatter, enter your brain, and that would be the end of you, my friend. There are faster ways to die … then again, there are slower ones, too."
Locke swore at himself internally. He was so stupid to get himself into this situation. An idiot! And he had no choice but to stand here and take it … if only he could get to his knife …
"Fortunately for you, I don't have a lot of time to spare on spies. I don't need information so badly that I'd take the time to interrogate you. So killing you fairly quickly won't be a real problem. But I'll ask you just once more, for civility's sake. Who is it that sent you?" Locke gritted his teeth and steeled himself. If he could duck fast enough and lay a good blow to the man behind him, he might be able to free himself and have enough time to gain some sort of advantage. Adrenaline was already pumping in his blood; it was now or never.
"Go to hell," he hissed between his clenched jaw. Kefka smirked.
"Is that it, then? Well, I hope whoever sent you is someone you're willing to die for. I tire of you." Kefka's hand drew back.
Locke tensed, trying to steady his nerves.
He needed to time this just right, and he'd only get one chance.
Things started to go in slow motion.
The hand started toward him …
There was only one thought on his mind.
Not Edgar, not Figaro …
Celes …
"Stop it this instant, Kefka!"
Everything shattered. The fire in Kefka's eyes flickered as he paused, obviously surprised. The man behind Locke slackened his grip, and Locke himself tore his eyes from the general to find the source of the voice. It couldn't be. He was imagining things. He was …
"What are you doing here?" Kefka spat contemptuously, his hand falling to his side. Locke just gaped; there was nothing else he could do.
"I can go where I please, Kefka, believe it or not," Celes retorted, her hands resting on her hips as she strode toward the scene. Her white cloak swished around her in an intimidating manner, concealing the sword she wore at her side. "Now, would you care to explain just exactly what is going on here?"
"Nothing of your concern. Why aren't you in Figaro like a good little girl?" Kefka asked, the mocking tone evident in his voice. Celes rolled her eyes, and then her glance flickered to Locke for the briefest second before icy eyes returned to Kefka.
"I don't need to explain myself to you."
"Neither do I," Kefka responded. Celes snorted.
"You do, because you are assaulting my bodyguard. Release him at once," she demanded, her voice void of any doubt or concern.
"Your bodyguard?!" Kefka scoffed. "Well, he's certainly doing a fine job of that!"
"He's doing exactly what I told him to. I'd be stupid to trust you, Kefka. I asked him to investigate for me," Celes replied evenly. "It seems you have a problem with following orders."
"What are you talking about?!" Kefka growled. Celes casually shook her hair, shrugging slightly.
"I'm not naïve, Kefka. You of all people should know that. I follow the workings of the treaties quite avidly, as they affect me greatly. I heard you were in the area, and I know also that Father has called you back to Vector. Why are you still here?"
"No one can tell me what to do! Least of all you!" Kefka burst. "Nothing's stopping you from asking what's going on. You don't have to send spies like a coward."
"I'm here, am I not?" Celes asked, raising one elegant eyebrow. "Father will not be happy to hear that you are not complying with his wishes. I have eyes, you know, and they see no readying for a return home."
"Gestahl is a fool. He'll see reason soon enough, and then he'll be glad I'm still here," Kefka said confidently. Celes shook her head.
"Gestahl is your father, and I wish you'd treat him that way. You may become Emperor one day, but for now he is. So let him do his job. And tell your soldier to get his hands off of my man."
"And if I don't? He is a spy, Celes, regardless of who sent him. You know the rules."
"Don't make me do something both of us would regret," Celes smirked, gesturing to her right. Kefka turned his eyes the same time Locke did; Kefka scowled as Locke simply stared some more, unable to speak. There was another woman with Celes, but beyond that she was alone. She had no back up, no troops. How did she intend to take on Kefka then?!
"Oh. You brought her," Kefka said flatly, but there was something akin to nervousness in his voice. Locke looked at the newly-noticed girl again, confused. She was petite and seemed quite shy; dark blonde hair tinted with greenish highlights was pulled into a thick ponytail that trailed down between her shoulder blades. Her intense green eyes looked back at Kefka, blank if not a little bored.
"You don't sound pleased to see me, Kefka," she said in a soft voice.
"Why should I be? Nothing good ever happens when you're around," he growled in return.
"I beg to differ," Celes said. "So let him go, and I will persuade Terra not to do anything …drastic."
"She wouldn't. That would be treason," Kefka protested.
"Accidents happen, Kefka. Who would trace it back to her?" Celes asked, smiling because she knew she had won.
"Damn witch," Kefka muttered under his breath, and then sighed. "All right, all right." With a tired wave of his hand he called off his sentry, who let go of Locke immediately before taking a step back. Locke turned to glare at him, reaching up to carefully touch the forming bruise on his upper cheek before moving to adjust his bandana.
"Get over
here!" Celes snapped, pulling him back to the present. He turned to look at her
and was met with a hard expression; he returned it with a scowl, and stomped
over to where she and the other young woman stood. What the hell was she doing
here anyway?! And what had she been thinking?!
"Are you satisfied?" Kefka
sneered. Celes turned back to the glowering general.
"Not very. I hope you're planning to do what Father asks of you. I'd hate to have to inform my fiancé what you might be planning."
"So he sent you here?!" Kefka snarled. Celes gave a bored sigh.
"Of course not. I came to Jidoor on my own accord. Terra and I thought we'd take in a show or two at the opera house and make a trip of it. I just thought I'd come pay my darling brother a visit while I was so close by. Now, if you'll excuse us, it's getting late and I'm tired of watching you bore holes into me with your stare."
"Then get out of here, before I lose my patience."
"Gladly," Celes said. "Come on." Turning on her heel, she started to walk out of the camp with purpose. The other young woman spared Locke a sympathetic smile before turning to hurry after the blonde, and Locke sighed as he took up the rear. His head was still reeling; what had just happened?
It was a terribly strained silence that hung between them as the trio walked back toward the city of Jidoor. Locke had been occupied enough at first, stripping off the cumbersome armor and throwing it carelessly into the wilderness around them. He had removed his bandana and used it to wipe the last signs of blood from his face before replacing it carefully in his hair once more.
Celes and Terra were ahead of him; at some point, they had started conversing quietly. Locke could not hear what they were saying, and it bothered him. He drug his feet, plunging his hands into his pockets and glowering in their general direction. Truth told, he was embarrassed. He should never have been caught in such a position. If Celes hadn't come along, who knows what would have happened to him?
That thought brought up the question that had been plaguing Locke from the beginning. What was Celes doing away from Figaro anyway? She didn't seem to be offering any answers. With a heavy sigh, he decided he was done waiting.
"Well?" he asked loudly. The two young women paused, turning their heads to look back at him. Celes smirked slightly.
"Well what?" she replied smoothly.
"Well that!" Locke seethed, waving his hand frantically in the direction that they had come. "Just what the hell happened back there?! What are you doing here?! Oh god! Does Edgar know you're here?!"
"Yes and no," Celes said coolly, shrugging her shoulders faintly. "Does he know that I am away from Figaro? Certainly. Does he know that I came to that camp? Absolutely not. To his knowledge, I am finalizing a few last minute wedding preparations in South Figaro. Which we did do, by the way. Catching a ship over to Jidoor was spur of the moment. Terra and I decided we would like to see an opera." The two women exchanged glances, smiling, and Terra laughed a little. Locke frowned.
"I don't get it," he grumbled. "How did you know where I was, anyway?"
"I heard you talking with Edgar that afternoon," Celes said calmly.
"You eavesdropped on us?!"
"Of course. What, am I not allowed to know what goes on in what will soon be my own kingdom?" she retorted, smirking. "Besides, I really did not want to stick around to listen to Sabin and Cyan discuss boring security routines. It is not my fault you two left the door open."
"So, does Edgar know?"
"Know that I am aware of you spying on my people? No, he does not know. I don't care for him to find out either," Celes said, shooting him a glare. Locke glared back. How could she be so calm about this all? He didn't ask her to come and save him! He would have been just fine on his own! And why did she think it was okay to lie to Edgar anyway?!
"Are you all right?" Terra joined the conversation finally, having watched the two in silence. Locke looked over at her, surprised to see genuine concern in her vibrant green eyes. He nodded.
"Just great. Listen, not to be rude, but who are you anyway?"
"My name is Terra Branford," she introduced herself, holding out one pale hand to him politely. He shook the proffered palm, blinking. "I've heard so much about you from Celes! I think it's terribly adorable!"
"…What?" Locke asked helplessly.
"You two. It's so romantic," Terra said, smiling.
"What?!" Locke yelped, tearing his hand away from Terra as he turned his gaze to Celes. "You told her?!"
"Of course I did," Celes sniffed. "Terra is my most trusted friend. She won't say anything." Terra nodded agreement at the statement.
"Just great," Locke said sarcastically. "Can this situation get any worse?! No, don't answer that! I don't want to hear it!"
"You're kind of strange," Terra said bluntly, the words not unkind. She smiled sweetly at him. Locke looked at her greenish hair. Who was she to call him strange?
"I still don't see how Edgar let you out of Figaro," he said. "Not without a whole entourage of guards, anyway."
"Terra is all the protection I need," Celes said. Locke gave her a funny look. He glanced at the petite girl, frowning. She did not look even remotely like a bodyguard.
Terra laughed at his look, and smiled empathetically.
"I know, I don't look like much, do I?" she voiced what he was thinking. He nodded his head dumbly, unsure of what else to say. Celes sighed.
"Edgar wanted to send someone else with me. Cyan, or even Sabin, but once Terra demonstrated her abilities he decided it was unnecessary," she explained. Locke was, if possible, even more confused by that statement. So there wasn't an entourage of guards waiting for them in Jidoor? That was a relief … sort of …
"Perhaps it would be best to just show you?" Terra said.
"Go ahead," Celes agreed. Terra held out one slender arm with her palm up, right in front of Locke's chest. She smiled up at him, and suddenly a tiny burst of flame shot up and hovered over her pale skin. Locke made a sort of strangled noise in his throat, stumbling in mid-stride. Suddenly the fire was gone, and Terra was watching him flounder about.
"Sorry. I guess I should have warned you," she said in a mildly apologetic manner.
"What? But … you … and …" Locke stammered, his eyes wide with confusion and a slight bit of fear.
"Terra is a very unique individual," Celes said. "She was in a terrible accident as a small child. It probably should have killed her. My grandfather managed to save her, but in doing so he was forced to implant a few shards of phoenix magicite inside of her. She developed pyrokinesis as a side affect."
"It's not so bad, really," Terra added. "It's kind of nice, actually. People think twice before messing with me."
"I'll bet …" Locke said weakly. "Um … but if you are from the Empire, then … why are you here?"
"I was part of the group sent to assist Celes with the wedding," Terra explained. "We arrived in Figaro shortly after your departure, or so Celes says."
"Terra is my maid of honor," Celes added. "I would like to arrange for her to live at Figaro on a permanent basis. I don't see Edgar having a problem with that."
"Probably not," Locke agreed distantly. "So … what are you going to tell Edgar that you have been doing?"
"Just what we have been doing," Celes shrugged. "Getting the alternations completed for my wedding dress in South Figaro. It isn't like we could have it done at Figaro, after all. There is no one there that could do it. We'll just pick it up on the way home."
"So … we're just not going to mention that we ever ran into one another?"
"I don't see why we should have to," Celes said.
"What about Kefka?" Locke asked.
"What about him?" Celes replied.
"He … well, won't he mention having seen you out here? It could get back to Edgar, you know. Oh hell, what if Edgar finds out I was caught? On pretenses of being your bodyguard?"
"Relax. Kefka won't say anything," Celes said. "He was forced to let you go, and that no doubt embarrassed him. He won't want to publicize anything that makes him look less powerful. And there is enough animosity between him and his father that he would never dream of saying anything to Gestahl."
"Oh," Locke said, flushing slightly. He felt foolish still, for being caught in such a predicament. Celes smiled a little, her voice softening.
"Locke, you did nothing wrong. You'll just report what you know to Edgar and that will be that," she said. Locke didn't dare look at her right then; he just nodded. He was afraid of what he would feel if he looked at her.
"I don't understand why you've been avoiding me so much, Locke," she continued, her voice sounding strange at such a gentle tone. He steeled his jaw.
"The answer is pretty obvious."
"Avoiding it won't make it go away," she said. Locke rolled his eyes.
"Facing it won't make it go away either."
"But Locke …"
"Can we please not talk about this now?" He stole a glance at Terra, who smiled sheepishly as his eyes fell on her. Celes sighed. It was a private matter, though she was sure she would probably tell Terra sooner or later anyway. She nodded slowly.
"All right, Locke. But we're going to talk about this, mark my words."
"Whatever."
Silence came upon them once more, and Locke kept his eyes ahead of him. Jidoor was in sight now. It wouldn't be long until he was back in the inn, where he could curl up and try to forget this whole disaster.
"You're staying at the inn, Locke?" Terra broke the silence.
"Yeah."
"I hope you have a big room."
"What? Why?" Locke's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Well, it's not like Celes and I had time to book a room or anything," Terra said with a smile. "Besides, we're paying for a room in South Figaro; Edgar would be suspicious if we spent more of his money on another room!"
"But … but you both can't …" Locke protested weakly. Terra seemed amused at his predicament, and Celes rolled his eyes.
"You'll just have to buy another room for tonight, Locke," she said. "Get over it."
"Hey! Why should I have to pay for you two?"
"First of all, you should try and act like a gentleman, for once," Celes began.
"Hey!"
"And secondly, it's your fault we had to come here in the first place."
"I didn't ask you to."
"Would you prefer that we did not? I'm sure Kefka would have been preferable?" Celes said, smiling at his sour expression. He knew he had lost.
"Shut up," Locke grumbled. "You just better hope they have another room open."
"Yes. It would be a shame if you had to sleep on the floor," Celes replied.
"Me sleep on the floor!" Locke's mouth fell open in protest.
"What? You wouldn't make two ladies like us sleep on the floor, would you?" she said, the barest hints of teasing sparkling in her eyes. Terra smiled.
"Of course you wouldn't, right Locke?"
"Uh … guess not …"
"You're a nice guy, Locke! I can see why Celes thinks so highly of you!" she said, oblivious to the way Celes' face rouged at the words. Locke closed his eyes; he desperately hoped there was another room he could rent. Staying in the same room with Celes could bring nothing but trouble.
The innkeeper gave Locke a curious look as he entered the establishment with two women trailing behind him. Locke's eyes pleaded with him not to ask questions as he strode up to the desk, a frustrated expression on his face.
"Have you got any other rooms open tonight?" he asked. The innkeeper glanced back at the two women, who were talking quietly and generally paying him no mind, then looked back at Locke.
"Depends," he shrugged. "You didn't say anything about no companions, Mr. Cole."
"Well, I didn't know they were going to show up," Locke retorted, resisting the urge to grind his teeth or grab the innkeeper by the collar. "Apparently they have elected me to take care of them. So, room or not?"
"I can give you the room across the hall from the one you got now," the innkeeper said; Locke breathed a sigh of relief before the man kept talking. "Course, it's going to cost you." His eyes sparkled as Locke gave him a dirty look.
"How much?"
"Well, this is pretty last minute. Not too many rooms left. I'll have to charge you one hundred and fifty percent," the man informed him. Locke muttered under his breath, looked back at Terra and Celes, and sighed.
"Fine, fine. Whatever," he grumbled.
"Up front, if you don't mind," the innkeeper insisted. Locke wanted to say that he did, in fact, mind very much, but he held his tongue. Reaching under his jacket, he produced handful of money. Counting it carefully, he threw the proper amount onto the desk. The innkeeper smiled.
"I suppose I should warn you, it's a smallish sized room. Only one bed in there," he said, scooping the money up quickly. Locke frowned.
"There's three of us!" he protested.
"Not my problem, kid," the innkeeper shrugged. Locke scowled, feeling anger well up in him. Celes interrupted, her words every bit as diplomatic as the cool expression on her face.
"The room will be just fine. Terra and I can share. Now, if you don't mind?" She motioned toward the stairway, and Locke shook his head in defeat. He trudged toward the direction she had indicated sullenly. He really wanted a drink.
Too bad he didn't have enough money left to buy a decent one.
"Are you ready to talk yet?"
Her voice jarred him harshly from the reverie that he had sunken into gratefully. Blinking his eyes back to reality, he straightened from where he was leaning on the railing and turned to glance at her through the corner of his eye. It was dark outside; the stars and the moon were the only light source besides the faint flickering that came from some of the town's windows. He could still see her perfectly.
"I'd rather not," he replied, turning back to the vast expanse of night sky. She and Terra were supposed to be asleep. What was she doing outside?
"That's too bad, because we need to talk," she said solidly. He sighed.
"What does it matter? It's not like talking is going to fix anything," he said bitterly. Celes took a spot next to him, looking up at the sky and crossing her arms over her chest.
"It might if you try," she said softly. "You haven't spoken to me once since coming back from Vector. You run off whenever you see me. Why?"
"Oh, why do you think?!" Locke said rather bitterly, reaching up to scratch the base of his neck nervously. "Maybe because I didn't want to go and do something really stupid because I can't keep my own traitorous feelings in check?!"
"You weren't the only one that drank that potion, Locke," Celes said rationally.
"So? That doesn't make it right! Edgar's like my brother. I feel terrible enough that this happened in the first place; I'm not going to make it worse by screwing things up between us!"
"And you think it hasn't been hard on me?" Celes retorted. Locke looked at her, unsure. Her face looked very serious.
"What?" was all he could manage to say.
"I know it's not going to work out between us," she said. "But I thought we would at least be friends. It hurts that you think so little of me." Locke felt a sharp pang in his chest, and he sighed. This was not fair at all. Celes shouldn't be allowed to have so much power over him. But she did, and that was part of the reason that he couldn't afford to stay around her. He wanted to tell her to leave, but he couldn't do it.
"You know I don't think little of you," he sighed. "This is just the only way I know how to handle the situation. You and Edgar …"
"I respect Edgar very much," Celes said, fiddling with the hem of her cloak. "He is a good person. I think in time I will grow to care about him very much. That doesn't change the fact that I'm in love with you, Locke. I don't think anything will."
"It's not fair," Locke whispered, looking away from her again. He couldn't bear to see her face. It was only making things worse. "You are Edgar's …"
"I'm going to be," Celes nodded a little. "But for now, can't I just belong to myself?"
"It doesn't matter. You're still his, and I can't …" He stopped talking, mistrusting his voice. Why did it have to be so hard?
Celes touched his arm then, and as much has he wanted to push her away, he couldn't bring himself to do so. He bit his bottom lip absently, and kept his eyes away from her. Why did it have to hurt so much?
"It's already done," she whispered. "We both know that."
"So what do you want to do about it? You can't very well just back out of the wedding, you know," Locke pointed out. Celes sighed.
"I know that. I don't plan on trying. I am going to marry Edgar," she said, as much to herself as to Locke. "But I'm not married yet. Can't I do as I please, until then?"
"Celes …" he murmured, unsure of what else to say.
"Can't I at least have your friendship, if nothing else?" she asked softly, her hand still resting on his arm.
"I don't … I don't trust myself …" he started unsteadily. She smiled then.
"I trust you, Locke. I do," she assured him. "Can we please just talk for a while?" The last of his defenses crumbled entirely, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he turned to pull her into his arms. She returned the embrace readily, leaning against his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Celes. I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," she said softly.
"I'm so messed up …"
"It'll be all right."
"No it won't. It will never be all right."
"We'll find some way, Locke," she said. "We'll be okay."
Locke felt like crying. He knew she was lying; she probably knew it too, deep down. But the words felt nice, they felt safe for a moment. He tightened his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, trying to forget everything else. Life was cruel. There was nothing else to it.
"I don't want to let you go," he said desperately.
"Then don't."
"I … I have to," he shook his head. She pulled away slightly, enough to smile up at him as softly as he had ever seen her smile.
"I'm promised to Edgar, but I will always belong to you, too. Stop pushing me away Locke."
"I can't. I'm afraid of what will happen if I do." She reached up, her fingers trailing down his jaw lightly.
"We won't let anything bad happen, okay? But I need to be with you. I need you to let me be your friend, at least. Please, Locke?" Locke sighed. Was this hurting her just as much as it hurt him? Did she feel awful too? He didn't want her to suffer …
It was an unconscious effort, leaning forward toward her face. He kissed her lightly, too oblivious for a moment to realize that it was wrong. Then he lunged backward, suddenly all too aware of what he had done. She smiled sadly at him.
"It's okay, Locke. It's okay."
"I didn't mean to do that."
"Yes you did," she replied. "I meant it just as much as you did."
"But I shouldn't …"
"It was just a friendly kiss. A kiss between friends. Right?" she offered. They both knew it was a lie, but it was a lie that Locke accepted gratefully. He nodded a little, smiling weakly, and she returned the expression before stepping back from him and reaching up to touch his bandana.
"Why do you wear this all the time?" she asked. He shrugged vacantly.
"I don't know. I'm used to it. It's who I am."
"I like it," Celes said. "It's cute." Locke snorted, crossing his arms.
"It is not!"
"Oh yes it is."
"Celes! I'm not a guy known for cuteness! Cut it out!"
"What? Can't a girl express her opinions? It is very cute and I can say so if I want to!" she retorted, smiling playfully. He frowned and yanked the cloth from his hair, balling it up in his fist and shoving it in his pocket.
"There. No more cuteness, see?" Celes smirked and ruffled his messy hair.
"You're wrong about that."
"Ah! Stop it already!"
"You're far too easy to rile up, Locke," she pointed out, smiling. "Learn to take a joke." He huffed dramatically, but then gave up and smiled along with her. It reminded him of their conversation on the airship, before everything had gotten messed up. It was comfortable. Maybe he could learn to control himself around her. Perhaps they could just be friends … after all, it was all they could be.
Celes took his hand suddenly, pulling him toward the inn.
"That cut on your face is going to get infected. Come on, I'll clean it out for you."
"Celes …"
"No protesting," she shook her head. "And then we're going to talk this all out in your room." Locke went rigid, but Celes seemed not to notice.
"Can't we just … wait till we're both back in Figaro?"
"No, of course not," she said. "Terra's already asleep anyway, and I'm not tired. Please, Locke?"
He sighed. There was no way he would be able to say no, but there was no reason he should say yes. He gave in, knowing it was weakness but unable to do anything about it.
He just hoped he didn't do anything he would regret later.
Continued