A/N: This is a gift fic written for The RyRy, my giftee in a Final Fantasy Secret Santa story exchange. Set a few months post-game.

The request: Gippal/Baralai, Gippal/Nhadala, and a five-foot long loaf of French bread.

This story is my first attempt at slash so be gentle (so to speak).

Disclaimer: All characters and settings from Final Fantasy X-2 copyright SquareEnix. Also, apologies to Ben Edlund.

In the Kitchen

I had been scowling over a recipe for several minutes, only half-reading it as I brooded over the unproductive negotiations between the Ronso and the Guado that had been consuming me for the past week. I was just about to give up and find lunch at a nearby bar when I was pulled out of my thoughts by a rap on the door of my new apartment, then a gentle creak as the visitor pushed it open. "Hey, Lai."

Only one person ever called me that. I put the sheet of paper down on the counter and went to the door to greet him. "Gippal," I said, taking his outstretched hand in both of mine and bowing politely. "What brings you here?"

"Just wanted to say hello," he replied, grinning and slapping my back with his other hand. Then he wandered into the kitchen as I closed the door. "Planning to sneak a sword into a state dinner?"

"Nothing so exciting. It's just a failed experiment, I'm afraid." I smiled at him as he examined the five-foot long loaf of bread that had been cooling on a metal rack. "I misread the instructions and used too much yeast. When I made emergency corrections, the portions got out of hand."

Gippal laughed. "Is it any good?"

"No way to know, really, until someone tries it. It smells all right. Here, this is from a more successful batch." I joined him at the counter and cut several slices off a more normal sized loaf, then handed him one. He ate the still-warm bread in three bites, then smiled again.

"Mmm. Good stuff, man. But why all the baking?"

"Making bread is an excellent way to relieve stress," I said. "And if I'm going to stay in Luca, I'll need to cook for myself eventually. So I might as well start now, learn how do it right."

Gippal raised his eyebrows and reached for another piece of bread. "So you're not going back to New Yevon?"

I shook my head. "Isaaru has been taking care of day-to-day operations, and everyone is happy with the current state of affairs. So I'm officially stepping down at the end of the month. They'll elect the new Praetor, but Isaaru will almost certainly be chosen. He actually seems to want the job. As far as I'm concerned, he can have it." Gippal cocked his head to the side and looked at me expectantly, curiosity burning in his single eye, clearly hoping for a more detailed explanation. Well, he wasn't going to get one. I had no desire to start pouring out my regrets regarding my decision to return to Yevon after the Crimson Squad affair. He would say "I told you so," and I simply wasn't in the mood to hear it. Even if I did deserve to.

Gippal quickly realized that I would say nothing more on this topic. "Whatever," he said, "I'm glad you're out of there."

"So what are you up to?" I asked, not bothering to hide my desire to change the subject. "Taking a break from the digging on Bikanel?"

"Not really, I just had a meeting with Nooj," he replied. "Going back tonight. Say, can I take this?" He lifted the loaf again. "Nhad and I are making dinner for the crew, and this should more than feed them."

"Of course." I looked at him, curious. He and Nhadala had been an item for a few months now, which was a long time for Gippal. "So how are things with her?"

He shrugged. "Great. Fine. Y'know, the usual." He shifted from one foot to the other, putting the bread back down on the cooling rack. And then, without warning, he stepped close and kissed me.

Instantly I was back in the desert, reliving the last time I had been with Gippal like this: the sun's merciless rays beating down on my head, the hot wind whipping through my hair. And then my mind traveled further back, to a bitterly cold night, that first time we'd huddled together, initially seeking warmth but soon searching for something very different in one another, his mouth finding mine, our limbs twining together. Then as now, he was all sinewy muscle, nimble hands igniting a long-forgotten need as they traveled down my body.

The kiss lasted rather a long time. Eventually, we both came up for air, and I stepped away from him, the edge of the counter pressing into my back.

"Is that why you came to see me?" I asked.

His eye glinted. "Interested?"

I considered his proposition. Taking up with him again could complicate my life on multiple levels. Still, I found myself wanting him rather badly. It had been quite awhile since Gippal. It had been quite awhile since anyone, for that matter, and my body was making its opinion on the subject known in no uncertain terms, rational thinking be damned.

I curved a hand around the back of his smooth neck and made my answer. "Yes."

And he was on me again, unfastening my robe and pushing it off my shoulders while pressing me even more powerfully against the counter, forcing my lips open with the pressure of his mouth. I put both hands on his shoulders and pushed back gently, leading us out of the kitchen. My goal was the small sitting room -- there was a comfortable couch there, which I thought would do nicely. As we walked, I unbuckled his gunbelt, which fell to the tile floor with a clatter. Then, with the next step, my foot caught in it, and I tripped and pulled him down with me.

We landed in a tangle of arms and legs and half-removed clothing. He pulled back from me, I caught his eye, and we both burst out laughing.

"We don't need to do this if you don't want," he said after the fit of merriment had passed.

"No, I do," I assured him, running a finger down his chest as I opened his shirt. He groaned softly at the light touch. "Bad idea or no. I've been celibate for much too long. But I'm not sure I understand why you--"

"Don't say it," he snapped, his face suddenly becoming hard. "Just don't."

I realized then that he didn't want me asking about Nhadala; he didn't want to be reminded of her now. And, with that, I understood: I was to be a distraction. Part of me felt mildly irritated at being used in such a fashion, but I had no right, considering that I had used him in the exact same way -- when he'd first approached me, I'd been lying stiff and angry in our tent, brooding about Paine and the reason she crept out every night and quietly returned just before sunrise. I supposed his reasons for wanting not to think about Nhadala were quite different, but it wasn't my place to question them. He needed escape, and I needed release; we could serve each other's desires perfectly, right here and now. Discussion would only get in the way.

I said nothing more as I pulled him close and let him push me back onto my robes where they lay on the kitchen floor.

-x-

Afterwards, I offered him use of my shower, and he accepted. I wrapped myself in my robe and picked up a slice of the bread, munching on it as I considered my cooking project once again, poring over the instructions for properly braising stew meat. It wasn't long before he emerged dressed, cleansed, and ready to leave.

"Thanks," he said as he entered the kitchen. He glanced at the floor, and I knew he wasn't just talking about the shower.

"My pleasure," I replied as he raised his gaze back to me. We stood there, looking at each other in companionable silence. I had half-expected the atmosphere to be tense, but it wasn't. We had each taken what we needed from the other, and neither wanted anything more. At least, not for today. "Don't forget the bread," I said after a few moments.

He picked up the loaf and tucked it beneath his arm. "Right. Thanks for that, too. Guess I know where to come for some home cooking soon, huh?"

"Maybe I'll have learned enough to make the whole dinner next time." I tapped the recipe sheet with a smile.

"Looking forward to it." He grinned back. "See ya, Lai."

"See you."

I watched the door as closed behind him, and then, relaxed and serene for the first time in months, went to take a shower of my own.