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Penelo was leaning against a wall looking very green when Balthier eventually found her.

On any other day she might have been mortified at being found doubled over and breathing heavily, like a Seeq left too long in the sun, but at that precise moment she found it difficult to summon much emotion at all. The most she could bring herself to feel was mild irritation at the fact that it was he who found her and not Vaan. Because honestly, that tearaway, sky-pirate wannabe was supposed to be her best friend!

"My, my," Balthier commented softly, almost absently, as he approached. He crouched down to her level and examined her pale, sweaty face through the flyaway wisps of bright blonde hair that had escaped her twin braids. "It would seem you haven't taken to flying with as much ease as your zealous friend, my dear."

Penelo, who in the first instance was already grouchy from her incompatibility with flight, and in the second was becoming increasingly embarrassed by his intent scrutiny of her ashen features, couldn't help the snippy retort that whipped from her tongue.

"State the – uuurgh – obvious, why don't you?"

She immediately covered her mouth, partly to prevent the prompt reappearance of her stomach contents, and partly in absolute horror of her uncharacteristic behaviour. There was no denying it – what she'd just said was unbelievably rude and ungrateful, especially considering all the trouble Balthier had gone to helping her. True, it was mostly self-interest and coinciding goals that had spurred him to assist, but he had assisted regardless.

And besides, Penelo had been raised to be polite.

But to her surprise, instead of being mortally offended and throwing her off the ship for her impudence, Balthier just laughed; a genuinely amused rumble from his chest, the tenor of which suggested he found her sharp sarcasm refreshing rather than insulting.

"Ah, so you do have some fire in you after all," Balthier grinned. "Good! I was rather beginning to think you too mild for this latest venture."

Encouraged by his obvious approval of her defiance, Penelo's guilt began to ebb. Her cheeks, already ruddy from the effort of suppressing her gag reflex, became just a little brighter at the almost-compliment, and though she was no less wary of him, she felt she was at least a little less intimidated by him.

After a few moments, in which a complete but not entirely uncomfortable silence reigned, Balthier suddenly offered his arm in a chivalrous manner Penelo had only ever heard about in fairytales (and scarcely at that – old Dalan was an excellent story teller, but his knowledge of classic romantic tales was thin at best). Surprised, all she could do was stare dumbly at him as he raised an arched eyebrow in expectation.

"Come, my dear – I don't bite." He smirked at her and winked conspiratorially, making her flush all the harder. "I think we ought to get you to more suitable facilities. Vomit is such an unpleasant substance to clean, wouldn't you agree?"

At this Penelo nodded once, and accepted his arm with a shy awkwardness she was wholly unaccustomed to – after two years living in Lowtown with the rest of Dalmasca's broken and desperate, embarrassment wasn't something that came easily to her anymore. But then she supposed Balthier was a different kettle of fish to the men she'd known back home altogether. He was no common gutter rat with grasping hands, trying to cop a feel as she walked by. He wasn't a pickpocketing rogue either, nor a wizened grandfather figure.

He was a gentleman.

It took them quite a while to reach the bathroom (or at least that's how it felt to Penelo, who became increasingly grateful for Balthier's arm to steady her as the world swirled around her), and when they did Balthier released her arm but made no move to leave. Despite needing to throw up so badly it was almost more than she could bear, Penelo turned to him with horror in her eyes and pleading in her voice.

"You're not… going to stay, are you?" she croaked, cheeks burning with humiliation at the very thought. Penelo might think quite ill of him in general – he was arrogant, self-absorbed and she didn't doubt he'd sell them all down the river at the first opportunity, if it took his fancy to do such – but regardless, he was still undeniably handsome, and for some reason she couldn't put her finger on, the thought of him hearing her throw up filled her with alarm of the keenest sort.

"Of course I am," he replied calmly, as if it were the natural thing.

Penelo waited, expecting him to admit he was joking and take his leave; or else take the hint and at the very least move down the corridor a bit. When he didn't, she felt her heart stutter in pre-emptive mortification.

"You can't!" she cried.

Balthier raised an eyebrow.

"And why not?"

"B-because! I'm going to..." She trailed off as some vomit finally forced it's way into her mouth. She swallowed quickly, paling as she realised she had very little time left before she'd no longer have the strength to stop it. "It's undignified!"

Balthier laughed again. "My girl, I may act the part, but I assure you I have few qualms where dignity is concerned – either my own or that of another."

Unable to hold herself together any longer, Penelo didn't bother with any further arguments and instead threw herself into the small bathroom, locking the door firmly behind her and letting her stomach heave itself dry into the toilet bowl.

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