Summary: If there's one thing to cause the champions of Chaos untold grief, it's their access to cyberspace...

Disclaimer: Yeah, I wish I owned it... Maybe then I wouldn't be up to my neck in tuition-debt! The Emperor's nicknames, however, are definitely mine.

Queen's Quornor: Time to do a serious chapter, I think. Jecht does his own comedy, for the most part. Time to give him a little time in the blue spotlight, methinks.

The Giver

A rapid series of clicks echoed off the walls, and Jecht looked around to check that nobody had been attracted by the noise. It was midday, and by now most of his peers were out tending to their own agendas. He had decided to return to the shrine for a brief lunch and gotten on the computer to browse while he ate. Now he was finished, but he saw no reason to find his sort-of partner just yet. Goldenrod could manage without the Blitzball King for an hour or two.

Satisfied that he was alone, Jecht went back to his clicking. He did want to fight, but not just yet. This was a little more important.

So absorbed was he in his task, the approach of another person fell on deaf ears. Jecht was only made aware of Golbez's presence when he spoke.

"'Grain for Children'?"

The Internet was minimized a second later, leaving the two staring at a snow-capped mountain with labeled icons along the left-hand side. "What're you doing here, Tin-Top?" Jecht growled. "Aren't you supposed to be out playing with your baby brother?"

"I did not know you could be so selfless as to supply food for starving waifs." Golbez stepped away from the punch the former athlete threw at him. "I am not surprised by your shame, though."

Jecht seethed. He valued nothing so much as being tough; the last thing he wanted spread to the other villains was his donating to charities. "This is none of your damned business, so get the hell out of here."

"Why are you so bothered? Good deeds such as this are worthy of admiration, not scorn."

"Yeah, I'd really get praise form His Royal Bitchiness and our reigning lord and master if they found out I was feeding hungry brats on other worlds," Jecht drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Golbez hmphed. "I have no reason to share this with the others. This is your private interest, and has no effect on our war." Golbez turned to leave. "I merely wanted to share my appreciation. You may take it as you will."

Jecht gave him a flat stare. Golbez left, watched by the other man's dark eyes. Once certain that he was alone, the former athlete went back to the Internet and his anonymous donations.

He'd never been good with emotions, and he hated it when people saw him as anything more than the tough bastard he was. His soft side was something he kept tightly under wraps. Jecht sometime regretted that mindset; his own son hated him for being so hard on him when he was little, and he did feel bad about that. But that rough treatment had been the only way he knew to show that he cared, and the results of such tough love went beyond Tidus' obvious resentment. If Jecht hadn't been so rough with him, his son probably would have died permanently ages ago.

He was proud of him, though he was careful to never so much as hint at it. Still, a part of him wished he had treated Tidus differently as a kid, and websites like Grain for Children helped him soothe his guilt. His son wanted to kill him, but at least there were some kids out there who were happy because of him, the rough, tough, greatest blitzballer ever.

Jecht finished his donations and went to access a similar site. He was fairly sure that Golbez wouldn't tattle to any of the others. But if he heard anything about this from any of them, Golbez would be looking for his own blitzballs somewhere in the Rift.