She ignored him. Except for one brief glance when he and Keran had arrived at the club, she ignored him completely. She managed to avoid looking at him, speaking to him, or even passing within ten feet of him.

Not that they would've had much to say to each other anyway. The music was loud, the bass pounding a rhythm so hard and furious that even the bar counter fairly vibrated with it. He wouldn't have taken Cid's girl for a dancer if he hadn't seen it himself. In their days together she could hardly have been called graceful. More often than not she'd tripped over her own feet and everything else in her path. But now she moved fluidly to the beat in a manner that could only be considered seductive, tempting, inviting. Maybe not every man in the room was watching her, but a good portion had their eyes fixed on her swaying hips, obviously weighing their chances.

He would've liked to think it was for his benefit, that she was deliberately trying to irritate him…but it was more likely that she just naturally drew attention. Probably she wasn't at all concerned with him. After all, there wasn't really much he could do. Adultery was not a crime. She could sleep with anyone she wanted to, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

It irked him. He didn't want to think about her with other men. He hoped, prayed that there hadn't been any, but with a girl as beautiful as Rikku? Unlikely. She was too pretty, too charismatic, too flirty to have gone without a lover for very long. Probably there were a lot of men just dying for a chance with her.

Furious, he threw back his whiskey. The fiery liquid only fueled the flames of his anger.

"Whoa, take it easy," Keran shouted over the din. "You wanna be coherent at least when you get to talk to her, right?"

"Who can talk in this?" Gippal complained. "Besides, she looks a little busy if you hadn't noticed."

Keran glanced over his shoulder, his gaze sliding across the crowded club until he found where Rikku and a blond man were pressed closely together. The man leaned down, speaking in her ear. Rikku threw back her head and laughed at whatever it was he'd said. The man's fingers touched her hip, curving possessively over the expanse of bare skin between the hem of her skirt and the hem of her short, midriff-baring top. Keran winced.

"Why don't you go run him off? You're good at it, aren't you?"

"She'd get irritated if I tried it. She hates it when people interfere in her life." He sighed. "This was a bad idea." He wanted to get drunk and go home. And then maybe get drunker.

"So you're just gonna let him put his hands all over her? She's your wife."

"But not by choice." Gippal winced. "She doesn't want me."

"So change her mind." Keran shoved Gippal a little, pushing him off the barstool. "She's looking a little irritated. If you're not going to go be her knight in shining armor, I will be."

Somehow Gippal had forgotten that Keran was also more than a little interested in Rikku. He didn't appreciate the reminder and glared at the shorter man.

"He's got his hand on her ass and she's mad. Go." Keran turned his attention to the bartender.

Scowling, Gippal twisted his way through the milling throng of writhing bodies towards Rikku and the nameless man across the room. On his approach, he caught the tail end of the shouted conversation.

"Stop it!" Rikku fished the man's fingers from beneath the hem of her skirt. She moved a little away, as far as the crowd allowed. He followed, laughing darkly as he grabbed her arm, pulling her close.

"Come on, baby, don't be like that." His other hand curved over her rear, jerking her against him.

"I said let me go!" She twisted her arm from his grasp, shoving his chest. She seemed more angry than scared, but Gippal's blood boiled nonetheless. He was still wading through people, struggling towards her.

"Let's go somewhere more private." The man reached for her again, but Rikku was quicker. Her fist shot out lightening fast, a quick blow straight to the nose. Someone must've realized something was going on, because the music in the club cut off abruptly and the lights went up.

"Bastard," Rikku spat. Blood poured from what was certainly a broken nose. The man cupped one hand around it, his other hand clenching into a fist.

"You little bitch, you broke my fucking nose!" He started towards her.

"I'll break more than that if you don't get the hell away from me!"

Gippal burst through the crowd forming around the two, grabbing Rikku's shoulder and yanking her behind him. She stumbled backwards a little, surprised. One minute she'd been facing off with an irate pervert and the next she couldn't even see the guy around Gippal. When had his shoulders gotten so broad? She sucked her bruised knuckles, wincing.

"You were saying?" Gippal's fingers lingered over his gun holster.

"My problem's with the girl, not you." The man's voice was a nasally whine. Blood poured over his fingers, dripping onto the floor. Rikku'd busted his nose good. Gippal was proud.

"She's my wife."

A low murmur spread through the crowd. Rikku flushed.

The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he backpedaled desperately. "What the hell's she doin' in a club, then? The hell was I supposed to think, when she starts coming on to me like that?"

Rikku stared at her toes, trying desperately to ignore the disapproving murmur of the crowd.

"Looked to me more like you were tryin' to take whatever you could get." Gippal's calm, even voice brooked no argument, and the man backed a few steps away.

"Well, uh, my mistake then." Someone handed him a couple of napkins, which he pressed to his nose, wincing. "I didn't know she was spoken for."

"Now you know." It wasn't just an announcement to the man, it was an announcement to the entire club.

"Yeah." The man backed away some more. "Yeah, um, right. I think I'd better go. I think I'm going to need a doctor." He laughed nervously.

"Good idea." Gippal watched until the man had gotten a safe distance towards the door. The crowd parted for him easily – no one wanted to be associated with the man who was on the receiving end of Gippal's anger. "Hey," Gippal called. He didn't know the man's name, he didn't care to know the man's name, but there was no doubt about who he was talking to. Expectantly, the man turned.

"You touch her again," Gippal said, slowly, softly, "and I'll kill you."

The man shivered at the threat, all but running out of the club into the night. For a moment, everyone was silent, waiting for Gippal's reaction. Then the music came back on, and the lights dimmed. Slowly the tense atmosphere faded, people went back to their dance partners and conversations. Gippal turned to face Rikku, who was seething, fists clenched at her sides.

"I was doing fine on my own," she hissed. Abruptly she realized she was talking to the top of his head – he'd knelt down for some reason. Then his arms slid around her legs, just above her knees, and he stood. The world tilted crazily, and she braced her hands on his shoulders. "What the hell are you doing?!"

He brushed her hands away from his shoulders, and she fell forward, over his shoulder. Her skirt rode up her thighs, and she tugged it down with one hand, pounding on his back with the other. "Would you put me down!"

He declined to answer, instead he began threading his way through the crowd. He nodded to Keran, who waved briefly at Rikku from the counter before resuming his conversation with a pretty blonde girl. No one attempted to help her at all. She kicked futilely as he stepped out into the night.

"Stop it, Rikku." His hand hovered over her bottom warningly. "I don't want to drop you."

"Then put me down!" She poked at his sides. Once he'd been ticklish, but she supposed the solid muscle she felt now kept him from being so sensitive. She bounced with every jarring step he took. Irritated, she crossed her arms. He still had a nice butt, she noticed. She wondered if he'd mind too much if she touched it. They were married, she reasoned. It was her butt, too, now. Frustrated, she uncrossed her arms and pinched his fabulous butt. Hard.

His hand came down across her upraised bottom sharply.

"You spanked me!" She gasp, shocked.

"You pinched me," he countered. She thumped his back hard with her palm.

"When are you going to stop treating me like a child?" She huffed, irritated.

"When you stop acting like one. Now shut up, will you?"

They crossed a couple of bridges and went up two flights of stairs, to what appeared to be a relatively ritzy hotel. He strode into the lobby. The two people at the front desk didn't so much as blink as Gippal carried her right by them. He went up another flight of stairs and paused in front of a room, fishing in his pocket for the key. The door opened, and he stepped in, locking it behind them. Finally, he tossed her on the bed. She bounced, a little dizzy.

He disappeared into the bathroom, running a washcloth under cool water and wringing it out. He returned, dropping down on the edge of the bed, holding out his hand.

"Give me your hand," he demanded. Wordlessly, she set it in his. He touched the scraped knuckles gently, examining the tender skin. Gently he patted the washcloth over them. It was soothing.

"Are you mad?" She didn't mean for the question to sound so weak and girlish. He looked up at her.

"Yeah, I'm mad." He didn't sound mad, but his jaw was clenched tightly. "That was a stupid thing to do, kid. That guy could've hurt you."

"But he didn't." She raised her chin.

"But he could have." It was an echo of their conversation at Djose a few days before. He didn't appreciate the comparison; he didn't like knowing that she'd made him feel the same way that she must've felt. The anxiousness, the worry, the blind panic. He sighed, bringing her knuckles to his lips. He kissed them softly. Sometimes she was foolish, getting herself into bad situations. But she'd done him proud tonight, giving that guy exactly what he deserved. He wasn't stupid enough to tell her that, though.

Instead he slid his free hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head, and bringing her lips to his. There hadn't been a kiss like this in years. He could taste her surprise, her shock, spicy on her tongue as his lips settled firmly over hers. He leaned into her, caressing her shoulder, her back, her hip. It took a moment, but eventually her eyes fluttered closed, and she tilted her head back just a little to let him deepen the kiss.

It was good. She was sweet and warm and soft. He'd missed it, missed her, missed them. Slowly, she pulled away, looking down and biting her lip. Her fingers clutched his shoulders.

"Gippal, you can't." It was a token protest and they both knew it.

"Yeah," he said, easing her backwards, "I can." He kissed her again, tugging her bottom lip with his teeth, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, encouraging her participation.

His arm cradled her head, and he loomed over her, big and strong and warm. He was Bikanel personified, everything she loved about the desert in one man. With her hands on his shoulders, she could feel the heat of his skin, the scorching desert sun burning her through him. He smelled like the desert, earthy and masculine and exotic. His cheek scraped over her breasts – where had her shirt gone? – and she felt the sandy bank of the Oasis on her skin. He licked a wet, warm trail down her flat stomach, then blew across the moisture, and she felt a cool breeze over the hot dunes.

"Rikku." The fingers of one hand linked through hers, and his breath was warm on her thigh.

"Mmm." Her head turned on the cool pillow, trying to recapture Bikanel in her mind, trying to fall back through time to when they'd been a real couple, really in love.

"Tell me you want this." He wished he knew for sure. It had always been special to him, with her. If it didn't mean anything to her, it would somehow cheapen everything that had come before. He flicked a finger over her clit, and she shuddered, gasping. Her hand slid into his hair, grasping a fistful of it. He obliged her, easing up, feathering his mouth over her trembling lips.

"Yes, Gippal, please," she whispered against his lips. Her long lashes fanned her cheeks, stark black against her golden skin. Her hands clutched at him, diving into his pants, struggling against his belt and buttons with an urgency that she hadn't had before. He brushed her fumbling fingers away carefully, shrugging out of his clothes himself. Her nails dug into his skin, and her sharp teeth sank into his shoulder. He hissed in pain, pinning her back against the mattress.

"You bit me."

"You're so slow." She glared. His lips touched her throat, nipping along the tender skin as his knee parted her legs. She pressed against him, gasping as his teeth caught her nipple. He was trying to take it slow, and all she wanted was for him to be inside her, hot and hard and perfect. She was ready, she wanted him now.

Her back arched as his fingers slipping silkily inside her, curving deep. She shivered, squeezing her eyes shut. Oh, it was so good, and she hadn't done this in so long.

"You're tight inside." He kissed her forehead, watching sweat bead on her brow. She was so ready for him, so slick and hot inside. But they weren't kids anymore; he'd grown, he could hurt her if she wasn't prepared.

She was fully prepared to complain about the lack of progress, but then he was pushing inside her and suddenly she realized why he'd been taking so long. He was bigger, thicker, or maybe she was just out of practice, because it was a little uncomfortable. He was pushing past muscles she hadn't used in years, and she winced. He was fighting for every inch he gained, but he noticed her expression and stopped.

"Hurting?"

"No," she quickly denied, "just a little…out of practice." She rocked her hips, feeling him sink a little deeper. His breath whooshed out. Her fingers flexed on his shoulders as she struggled to accommodate him. Everything about him was too much now, from his muscular arms, his large frame, his broad shoulders that blocked out the light, to the way he fit inside her, which was to say only just.

"Okay?" His lips touched hers, warm and soft, soothing, comforting. "That's it, Cid's girl." His hips were squarely over hers. She felt full, stretched beyond endurance. She felt him so deeply inside her that it felt like there were no empty spaces left – he'd filled everything, taken everything, become everything.

She didn't want to become insignificant, an extension of him. She was afraid that if she yielded even a little he'd take everything from her. She wanted a lover who would be her partner, her friend. She didn't know if he could be that. The Squad had changed him, time had changed him. He was used to leading, and she didn't want to be stuck following.

His hand slid beneath her hips, arching them against his, and she gasped.

"Need a minute?" His voice was a husky whisper in her ear. She shook her head, moving just a little beneath him, hoping he'd take the hint. He did, carefully withdrawing. He was being gentle for her, and she knew it. He filled her slowly, sliding across nerve endings alive once more, taking the breath from her lungs, leaving her panting.

"Wow," he whispered, as breathless as she was. "It's been a long time, huh?"

She didn't understand how he could talk now - everything in her was focused on the place they came together, feeling him hard and deep inside her. Her nails raked across his back, and he shuddered.

"You're gonna make me lose it if you keep doing that," he gasped, his face buried in her hair.

She turned her head to the side, finding his ear, tugging the lobe with her teeth…and scraped her nails down his back again.

"Damn!" He thrust, hard, making her back arch. His hands held her hips, lifting her to meet each hard, long thrust. A little keening cry left her arched throat. Her toes curled, legs wrapped tightly around his hips as he drove into her. It had been too long – they were starving for each other, in a desperate race for satisfaction. It was hot, it was hard, it was amazing.

She came, arms locked tightly around his neck, making tiny mewling noises in his ear. Her inner muscles clenched around him, and he tensed, trying desperately to hold back. His hands fisted in the sheets, and he gritted his teeth.

"Gippal." Her breathy little sigh shivered through him, and she nuzzled his shoulder, replete in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Her hips arched against his delicately, and he gasped, sucking in a lungful of air. He had wanted it to last longer, to exhaust her, to impress upon her the amazing chemistry they had, but if she kept up those little teasing motions, it was all going to be over.

"Gippal." Her hands clutched his rear, yanking him against her. He clenched his jaw against the sensations, but she remembered a thing or two from the old days. Her fingers brushed over his nipples caressingly, her lips teasing his ear as she rocked against him. He jerked, thrusting sharply. She liked that; he touched something deep inside her and she tingled all the way to her toes. She sucked his earlobe into her mouth, and he couldn't hold back anymore. He surged against her, clutching her hips to his, feeling like his spine was being jerked out with the force of his climax. Delicious little aftershocks of pleasure rippled through her.

"Damn," he sighed, collapsing over her. He was hard and heavy, but warm and more comfortable than any blanket she'd ever had. He caught his breath, fingers tangling in her hair. "I wanted it to last longer than that. I'm sorry."

"I don't think I could live if it lasted any longer." She turned her head on the pillow, yawning. Her whole body was relaxed. She was sleepy, warm, satiated. He shifted off of her, wrapping his arms around her waist, drawing her back against him. His fingers slipped into hers. It was just how they'd slept together years ago, curled together, linked, always touching.

"Can I stay here…just for tonight?" She asked meekly.

He hadn't expected her to want to. He'd fully expected her to get dressed and walk out.

"Yeah, of course you can stay." He tucked the covers securely around them, kissing her neck, her cheek, her ear. "This is where you belong."