He took his time making it back to his airship. He had thinking to do and decisions to make, but he still hadn't cleared up much of anything by the time he made it back. Of course, he was a little irritated that Rikku's gut instinct had been right, overriding his logic and reason. It was a good thing that she'd forced him out of bed at an ungodly hour after all. Still, now she had no reason to believe that he'd take care of her. He'd said he would take care of everything, but now she would always worry – had he really? He wasn't going to let her spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder or charging off in the dead of the night to meet some hypothetical foe.

He walked up the ramp, headed straight for the bridge, and dropped down in the pilot's chair. The engine thrummed to life, and he programmed in a flight course for Zanarkand even as he reached for the intercom.

"Rikku, on the bridge, now." The intercom channeled the command all over the ship, and less than a minute later the elevator dinged.

She frowned as if displeased with him for discovering her scheme. Her hair was damp – she'd obviously swam across the lake to get to the beach without having to run into him and had promptly changed into some of his spare clothes as soon as she'd gotten on board. Likely she'd hoped he wouldn't find out she was on board until it was too late.

"How'd you know?" she asked.

"I know you," he said. "When have you ever stayed where I put you?" He swung the chair around, resting his elbows on his knees. "Come here," he said, "we've got to talk."

Hesitantly she moved towards him. When she was close enough, he grabbed her hand and jerked her down into his arms, holding her tightly against him.

"Do you have to kill him?" she asked softly. "He can go to jail, Gippal. He can go to jail for a long, long time. Maybe for the rest of his life."

"It wouldn't be all that long, honey. He shot Keran and stalked you, but he didn't kill anyone. He won't get life in prison. Hell, he won't even get a fair trial," he said. The blank expression on her face told him he'd done a good job of shielding her from the situation. He slid his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, rubbing soothingly as he eased her head against his shoulder.

"Rikku, there are still things you don't know about this man. This isn't the first time he's gotten himself in legal trouble. He's guilty of all sorts of things, but he's avoided jail time because he's exceedingly well-connected. His father is a very, very wealthy landowner, and his mother comes from a prominent merchant family in Luca. Throw in some politicians, judges, and other civil servants on both sides of his family, and a few of the higher-ups in Yevon backing him, and we've got an awful mess on our hands. They've hushed up his indiscretions before, they've bribed witnesses, they've stacked juries. They'll do it again. If he even does go to prison, I wouldn't count on it being for more than a couple of years."

"But…but he should go to prison." She couldn't seem to wrap her mind around corruption in the new, peaceful Spira they'd helped establish. She'd honestly thought they'd gotten past that sort of thing.

"If – and it's a big 'if', honey – he did go to prison, do you honestly think he'll be repentant when he gets out? Do you think he'll understand or care that he was put there because of his own actions? I don't think he will. I think he'll blame you. I think, as soon as he got out, he'd try to finish what he started." He tried to soften the words by kissing her forehead, but she shuddered anyway. "Do you want to live the rest of your life waiting for that day, Rikku?"

"No." Her fingers curved over his shoulder. "But I don't want you to have to kill him, either."

"You can't care about him," he said incredulously.

"I don't," she assured him, sliding off his lap. She turned away from him as she looked out the windows to the sandy beach below. "I don't care about him or what happens to him," she said. "I just…I think you've had to do enough killing in your life already. You shouldn't have to do anymore, especially not because of me." She slid her fingers across the window, tracing the path a dolphin wove through the surf out in the ocean. "Maybe I should just do it myself. I just want it to be over."

He thought about it for a moment, thought about letting her take the matter in her own hands, and the havoc she would likely wreak because of it. Probably she'd make some sort of mistake, like untying the man, or she'd give him some sort of weapon to defend himself with. Honorable, but stupid.

No, his fate had been decided when he'd failed to heed Gippal's warning. And it was Gippal's form of revenge he'd be getting. Gippal had seen enough of the world to know that it was foolish to expect an enemy – especially one who had already behaved dishonorably – to act with honor. The man was a criminal, without honor or principals, and would have to be treated accordingly. But Rikku wouldn't know that.

"While I appreciate the gesture," he said, "I really think we'd be better off if you'd let me handle it. No offense, but I don't think you have it in you to shoot someone who doesn't pose an immediate threat to you, and I'm not about to let this bastard loose and hand him a weapon to satisfy your conscience."

"What are you going to do to him, then?"

"You sure you wanna know?" Not that he thought she had a rather high opinion of him anyway, but he was pretty sure she wasn't going to like his plan.

"Yes. I'm sure." Her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip on the windowsill. "I do have that right, don't I? To know what I've brought about?"

He'd deal with her misdirected guilt later, he decided.

"I'm going to take him to Zanarkand, I'm going to drag him inside the dome, and I'm going to shoot him in the head. If he's lucky, he'll be unconscious when I put a bullet in his brain. If not, well…he'll still be dead, so what's the difference, right?" There was no sense in sugar-coating his intentions. He stretched out his legs, telling himself that what she thought of him wouldn't matter. She didn't love him, anyway. Keeping her alive was the most important thing. Everything else had to be inconsequential.

"I see."

"I'm not giving him a sporting chance. I'm not going to let him fight for his life. I've got a copy of his warrant in my pocket that says he's wanted dead or alive, and I feel perfectly justified in sending him back to Kilika in a coffin." He patted his pocket, hearing the paper inside it crinkle.

"Okay."

"What do you mean, okay?" He was suspicious of her calm acceptance.

"I mean okay," she said, turning to look over her shoulder at him. She tried for a reassuring smile, but achieved only a grimace. She twisted back towards the window, embarrassed at her lack of self-mastery. "I mean, I'd rather it had never come to this, but…if it's going to be him or me, it's not going to be me."

"That's my girl." His hand curved over her shoulder, warm and heavy and comforting. "Don't beat yourself up; at the rate he was going it was only a matter of time before someone called him out. It might as well be me. Think of him like Seymour. You'll be glad when he's gone. He's not a good man, Rikku."

"What did he do? What else did he do that people might want him dead for?" She eased a little closer, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

"I don't…I really don't want you to worry about him, okay? Please, just trust me. I don't think you want to know anything more about him than you already do." If he got his way, she'd never have to know anything else about the man. Hopefully, in time, she'd forget the whole unfortunate episode.

For a moment it looked like she might press the issue, but finally she shrugged. "Okay," she said softly. "Please, can we just get this over with? I think I might be sick if we have to put it off much longer."

"First we'll need to go over a couple of things." His tone had quickly changed from sympathetic and comforting to hard and unyielding. He reclaimed the pilot's seat, fixing her with a forbidding stare. "You'll do everything I say without question. Do you understand?"

"What?" she gasped. "But I –"

"Without question, Rikku. Or I will tie you up and toss you right back to Yuna and Tidus, and you will sit and wait patiently on Besaid until I come back to get you. Do you understand?"

She knew that expression – he'd made up his mind completely and he would ignore everything she said but the answer he wanted.

"Fine," she snapped back, folding her arms across her chest. "What are my orders, captain?"

"For now, don't go into the hold. Head to the cabin, if you like. The fridge was stocked recently. You could get yourself some food or take a nap. It'll take us a while to get to Zanarkand. Try to keep out of trouble." He swung around, preparing for takeoff now that she'd agreed to his rules.

"Can I stay up here?" She made for the copilot's seat.

"If you like." He was surprised that she'd want to. But then, maybe she just wanted companionship and she didn't really care who she got it from.

She strapped herself into the seat as the ship smoothly departed Besaid. They sat in silence for a long while. She watched the ocean whiz by in a blur of blue waves with white crests, feeling unsettled and anxious, wondering if the feeling would ever fade.

---

They landed a few hours later, and she paced nervously around the bridge, watching as he made his preparations to leave. He didn't so much as look at her; she knew he didn't intend to invite her along. Probably he'd order her to stay on the ship.

"Take this," she said finally, as he finished shoving things in a small backpack. He looked down at the small accessory, puzzled. It was a thick, brightly colored band of orange, obviously meant to be worn as a bracelet.

"What's it do?" He picked it up, looking at it curiously.

"It's a charm bangle. It repels fiends," she said. "Zanarkand's still full of them. You can't afford to get taken by surprise. It won't ward off monkeys, but…"

"Thanks," he said, fastening it around his wrist. "I completely forgot about the fiends." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

It was a natural inclination for him, expressing his affection for her. He didn't realize until he was drawing back that she might not appreciate it. He'd thought they'd grown a little closer since she'd been living with him – certainly they'd grown more intimate – but being intimate did not mean she felt anything for him at all. You didn't have to love someone to sleep with them.

"Sorry," he said when he saw her shuttered expression. "I shouldn't have done that, I guess."

"No, it's…okay." She touched her cheek absently. "Be careful."

"I will." He double-checked the rounds in his gun, then slung his bag over his shoulder. "I want you to head to the cabin, all right?"

Obediently she headed for the elevator and took it immediately to the cabin. But she didn't have any plans to stay there. It was lucky she kept a couple extra accessories on her – she had a feeling she was going to need her extra charm bangle. It would be awfully hard to follow at a discreet distance if she kept getting attacked by fiends.

---

As Gippal levered his gun at Xac, he realized that he was going to have to teach Tidus to tie a better knot. The man looked so disgustingly self-satisfied that he'd slipped his bonds that Gippal considered shooting him right there in the hold. But blood was just so messy.

"Let's go," Gippal said, motioning with the gun. "While you're at it, keep your hands where I can see them and don't make any sudden movements."

"Okay, okay." He made a placating motion. "You're the one with the gun." Xac followed Gippal's directions down the ramp and onto the ground beneath the airship.

"Keep moving. Towards the dome." Gippal prodded the man in the back with the barrel of the gun. He wanted to be well out of sight of the airship before he actually killed the man. He really didn't want Rikku to have to see it.

"What, are you crazy? I can't go in there. There are fiends all over the place!"

"Keep moving." Gippal cocked the gun. Xac stiffened, but continued forward reluctantly.

Neither man noticed Rikku slip off the ship behind them, waiting until they'd gone a considerable distance before picking an unobtrusive path through the rubble.

---

"That's far enough. Turn around," Gippal instructed, stopping in the middle of a large, open area.

"So, what exactly do you plan to do?" Xac asked, sticking his hands in his pockets. He eyed Gippal's gun nervously.

"I'm going to explain some things to you, the first of which is that this could have been avoided if you had taken my advice and stayed the hell away from my wife." Gippal strove to keep his voice calm and even. He wanted to shout at the man, to plant his fist in his face, but it would accomplish nothing and he would do well to remember it. He crammed his hand in his pocket, drawing out the crumpled piece of paper, tossing it to Xac, who caught it.

"The hell is this?" Xac smoothed out the paper, scanning it briefly.

"It's your warrant," Gippal said. "You're wanted, and they don't care how they get you."

"You're crazy. You can't kill me. Do you know who my father is? He's probably getting that warrant recalled right now." Xac tossed the paper aside carelessly.

"Your father has nothing to do with this. You have never been held accountable for your actions and I doubt you would be if I took you in. So today, I will be playing the part of judge, jury, and executioner." Gippal moved a few paces forward.

"You can't do that," Xac insisted. "My father –"

"The law's on my side, here. I guarantee you that I will never set foot inside of a prison cell for killing you. You are a menace to society, and as long as I have a copy of that warrant, I will get off free and clear. Now, I wish I could say that I would trust your word if you were to say that you'd go away and leave us in peace, but I wouldn't. You've been spoiled your entire life. You're used to getting what you want and stepping on whoever you have to and having mommy and daddy clean up your messes." He spared a mocking look for the man. "That's going to end today."

"Is it?" Xac sneered. "By the way, your wife has been following us. She's there, just down the way."

Rikku recognized the diversionary tactic for what it was, having used it countless times before, but Gippal actually turned to look at her.

"Gippal, watch out!" she gasped. Xac dived for Gippal, knocking him backwards. The gun went flying, clattering to the ground towards a ledge. Thankful it hadn't gone over the edge, Rikku raced for it. She tripped, hit the ground hard enough to have the wind knocked out of her, but her fingers closed around the barrel and she stumbled to her feet.

She snatched it up while the two men struggled. It struck her that it would have to be her, after all. She was going to have to kill him herself, and she was going to have to avoid shooting Gippal in the process. She only hoped she could manage to do it – she'd always been better with knives than she'd been with guns.

Gippal was a better fighter than Xac, and he knew it. Xac had had no formal training, and he usually had other people to do his fighting for him. He had no form, no style. It wasn't all that hard to get some leverage and kick the man away from him. Xac fell away and struggled to his feet.

"Now, Rikku!"

The gun's report resounded in the dome.

As soon as she saw Xac's shocked, incredulous expression, she knew she'd struck him. But she didn't want to see much more – Gippal would handle the rest, she was sure. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her arm still ached from the force of the recoil.

There was a gurgling sound, then she heard a body hitting the ground. Shortly thereafter, she heard Gippal's heavy footsteps and the distinct rustling sound of fabric on concrete – Gippal was probably dragging the body away. Somewhere she couldn't see it.

"Rikku."

She jumped at the sound of his voice, and her eyes opened warily. Gippal looked grim – likely she'd have some explaining to do later on. He held out his hand.

"I need the gun," he said.

"Why?" she asked blankly, even as she dropped the gun onto his palm.

"He's not dead," he said bluntly, walking away. "Head for the airship. I'll catch up." He disappeared around a column.

A short walk and a short while later, she heard a gunshot.

---

She was waiting for him outside the dome when he emerged. She hoped she looked composed – she felt a mess, torn between relief and tears. He didn't look upset at all, but when his arms finally closed around her, she realized he was trembling.

"Are you okay, honey?" His lips touched her temple, coming away gritty with the dust that streaked her face. He wiped his mouth and kissed her again, wrapping her up so tightly she could hardly breathe. "God, I'm so glad you're okay. Don't you ever do anything that stupid again, do you hear me?" He shook her once, hard, then wrapped his arms around her again, squeezing her so tightly she found it difficult to breathe.

She marveled at his ability to swing from one extreme to another in a space of seconds, alternating between worry and anger. But she'd never felt anything so reassuring as his strong arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment at let him hold her, let him mumble soothing endearments in her ear, let him stroke her back and kiss her hair.

Finally she lifted her head, letting him brush her wild, flyaway hair back from her face. "Let's get out of here, okay?"

"Yeah." He agreed. "Are you going to be okay? I can carry you."

He would, too. She knew it. No matter that he had to be as tired as she was, he would carry her if she asked him to.

"I'll be fine," she said. "My arm hurts a little, but my legs are fine. Let me just grab a couple of potions. Want some?"

"I guess I could use one," he said, rubbing his jaw where Xac had managed to land a blow.

She rummaged in her pouch for a couple of bottles and handed him one. He clinked his bottle to hers in a bizarre parody of a toast. She popped the stopper on her bottle and tipped the contents down her throat. The cool tingle was soothing – she could feel it slipping through her aching muscles, easing the pain. She flexed her arm experimentally. It didn't hurt. "I think it's better now."

"Good." He slipped his arm around her waist anyway, leading her back towards the airship, then ushered her up the ramp into the cabin.

"Bed," he said.

"But –"

"Bed," he insisted again. "Now. I'm gonna go take a shower and then run a bath for you, and when I come back I want to find you asleep in that bed." He pointed. She went, grumbling to herself as she undressed down to her undergarments, kicked off her shoes, and slid into the bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, she knew their little adventure had finally caught up with her. Her muscles relaxed, and her eyes closed. He was right; she needed a nap. But she didn't have to appreciate being ordered to bed, all the same. The bed depressed, and his fingers tunneled through her hair. He kissed her forehead.

"Night, honey. No pouting."

She 'hmph'ed as he headed towards the bathroom. A minute later she heard steady hum of water beating against the shower wall. She closed her eyes, burrowed into the covers, and slept.

---

He brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Wake up, baby."

Her eyes opened slowly, gazing up at him as if she wasn't quite sure of what she was seeing. He thrust his hands beneath the blankets, tugging her towards him, into his arms. He lifted her off the bed, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. His hair was still damp – her fingers slid right through the slick strands.

He carried her into the bathroom, gently depositing her on her feet, testing the water temperature by kneeling near the tub and plunging his hand in. The water was covered with a thick layer of bubbles, probably a concession to her modesty as there was no door on the bathroom separating it from the cabin.

"Go ahead and get in." He left the bathroom, leaving her alone with the tub of deliciously hot water. Quickly she shed her undergarments and climbed in, sinking into the tub. She sighed, leaning her head back and enjoying the silky feel of the water washing over her. Maybe she could even go back to sleep. She closed her eyes.

Sometime later, the delicate scent of strawberries wafted to her nose. Her eyes opened, focusing on the strawberry on a fork held just inches away from her mouth.

"Eat." Gippal was seated at the edge of the tub, holding a plate of food.

"My, aren't we commanding today." She compressed her lips.

He rolled his eye. "Please eat." He bobbed the strawberry temptingly. She plucked it off the fork and took a bite – perfectly ripe, juicy and sweet. It was gone too soon. She mourned the loss of the delicious fruit.

He speared something else – a bit of chicken. She looked up at him curiously, but he seemed perfectly content to feed her bits of food off the plate until, slowly but surely, she'd devoured most of her dinner.

"You know, you're actually a pretty good cook. I wouldn't have thought so, but you are," she said.

"Gee, thanks." He poured a cup of water over her head, and she squealed indignantly. Then he was massaging shampoo through her hair as she glared up at him.

"I can wash my own hair, you know," she said petulantly.

"You're probably right." He dumped more water over her head and moved onto conditioner. She consoled herself with the fact that the bubbles hadn't diminished any noticeable amount. After rinsing her hair a final time, he laid a couple towels on the edge of the tub and set a spare button-up shirt on the counter. "It's nothing fancy, but it's clean and dry, and it'll keep you warm," he said. "When you're done, come find me, okay?"

She nodded in response, then sank back for a few more minutes of relaxation. Slowly the water's warmth leeched away, and she abandoned the tub in favor of the fluffy towels. She toweled her hair dry as best she could, then slipped into the shirt he'd left her. It covered a respectable amount of skin. She didn't know why she was worried about that – she'd never cared much before whether or not she was wearing a respectable amount of clothing. Maybe she just didn't want Gippal to think of her poorly.

She slunk down the stairs to the big open area below. He was seated at a table, staring broodingly into the distance. He held a slip of paper, which he kept smoothing absently over the table. A big metal urn sat in the middle of the table, its purpose a mystery to her. There were also two wineglasses, only one filled, and a half-empty bottle of wine.

"Um," she said. "I'm out of the bath, now." She felt a little like a kid waiting on a parent's permission to go watch television or something. It was his airship, she was just a guest on it. Even if they were married.

"Good. Come sit." He motioned to the chair across from him, pouring her a drink from the open bottle on the table. She sipped it hesitantly for a moment before a thought occurred to her.

"What happened with Xac?" She hadn't thought about him at all after emerging from the dome. Not once.

"I killed him." He didn't sugarcoat it. "You shot him in the chest. Painful, but not necessarily fatal, especially if he's any good at white magic. So I shot him in the head." He took a hearty drink from his glass. "Tomorrow I'll tell his parents where they can recover his body."

She didn't flinch at the tone or the blunt confession. "Good," she said. "He deserved it."

His harsh bark of laughter made her jump. "I killed him because he might've killed you. I've never done that before, not ever." He'd never, ever been in the grips of a rage so pure that he'd killed another man for an offense not committed against him. He'd killed before, many times. But only because it was his life on the line. Rikku was the only person in Spira he'd kill to protect. He downed the rest of his wine.

"I'm grateful," she said. "I don't know what I would have done without you. Probably I'd be dead."

He shoved a trembling hand through his hair, sighing. "I love you," he said finally. "That's why I did it. Because I love you. I'd kill anyone who tried to hurt you."

Her lips trembled. "You hurt me most of all," she said. Because physical pain was nothing, not compared to the mental pain, the emotional torment he'd put her through. That kind of pain didn't get better with white magic or potions.

"I know," he said softly. "I know. That's why I'm giving you this." He slid the piece of paper across the table to her.

She picked it up. "What is it?"

"It's our marriage certificate. It's the only evidence there is in all of Spira that we're married," he said.

She examined it carefully. It was dated and signed by Cid and Gippal's mother. Gippal's own childish signature was in the appropriate box, as well as her own sloppy scrawl – she hadn't really known her letters when she'd been married, much less how to write her name.

"I don't understand," she said softly.

He splayed his hands. "My mother's dead," he said. "That's half of the witnesses." He slid a lighter across to her. "I'm giving it to you. You can destroy it, and it'll be like it never happened."

"But my dad knows – he's a witness. Yuna knows. Tidus knows." Lots of people knew, now, ever since his bold declaration in that Kilika bar.

He shrugged. "There's no proof, there's no marriage. Without that, none of them will be able to prove conclusively whether we were married or not. You could…get married again."

"What about you?" She inquired.

He sighed. "I'll deny it," he said. "If anyone asks, I'll tell them it's not true. I'll tell them we were never married."

"You'd lie?"

"If it's what you want." He leaned back in his chair. He didn't look at her. He wasn't sure he could look at her without begging her not to do it. "If it's really what you want, I'll lie for you."

Tears pricked her eyes as she fingered both the slip of paper and the lighter. He'd offered her the one thing she'd wanted from him – her freedom. He'd killed for her, he'd rescued her time and time again. He'd taken care of her. He loved her, and she knew it. She believed it now as fervently as she had disbelieved it before. For her happiness, he would sacrifice his pride and his honor. And she knew that even if he lied to everyone and said that they had never been married, even if she remarried, he never would. Because he loved her, and even if he lied for her, to him she would always be his wife, the only wife he would ever have.

Her heart, long dormant in her chest, pulsed to life with a vicious beat. No, that wasn't entirely true. Perhaps it had always been alive, perhaps it had always been beating for him, only him, but hidden, buried away in a secret place where it could not be hurt any further. Only now had it broken free of its cold tomb to embrace him again as the only man she could ever love. And the only man that had the power hurt her irreparably.

And that was why she flicked the lighter and set fire to the piece of paper. As the flames licked the curling paper, she set it into the metal urn and they both watched it burn to ash. When the last of the tiny embers died, she finally looked up at him…but he was staring at the ash in the bottom of the urn like every last one of his dreams had died with the flames.