A/N: Once again. Thank you to everyone who come back week after week to read, and thank you to those who review. Keep em coming! I love to hear what you think about where things are going. :)

From the day she gave up the drink and for the last three years she had the same recurring dream. At first it had been every night. The same place, same scents, same sounds. The same tight embrace, the same heavy hands. Always him. Night after night she prayed for a dreamless sleep; reprieve from the one jagged regret in her life. She wanted to crawl back into that bitter bottle and get lost again, but the fact that she couldn't make impulse purchases of booze was the only thing that saved her. She'd spit and curse herself for taking this post out in the middle of nowhere, but in the end it was more of a haven than a hell.

The intensity of the dreams lessened over time as she started to pick up the shattered pieces of herself but along with silence, guilt and regret were her constant companions. She'd never known such merciless feelings of loss and despair, even through the loss of her parents. Every time she closed her eyes, he was there. Why did she let him get so deep under her skin? She'd not been able to catch her breath since she left Bodhum, and she'd almost grown to hate him once again in a desperate yet feeble attempt to push this all back into the container it burst out of. Slowly but surely her desire for mercy was granted. After so many days and nights of torture and self-examination, birthdays, holidays and seasons passed, she finally was granted clemency; the lesser sentence of a quiet, persistent ache.

Now the dreams no longer plagued her. They came often enough as she transitioned; time working as a salve upon her wounds, but she was thankful that the dreams never completely went away. Recently they were very lucid; almost like he would come back to her. As her heart started to ache less from day to day, they not only changed in frequency, but in content as well. Gone were the horrific scenes where she relived his death, replaced by true figments of her imagination. In one instance they sat together in an empty restaurant or a cafe, as she watched muted words fall from his lips. In another they faced each other, his hands on her face as he spoke to her, but she never could hear him. Both scenarios filled her with feelings of peace, and even though she felt empty in the morning, she appreciated the time they had together in the dead of night and the comfort of her bed.

This last night it had been the latter of the two scenarios. He had the most relieved look on his face as he stared longingly into her eyes, cupping her chin in his huge hand, his mouth forming words and smiling down at her. She shook her head, not able to understand; her ears deaf to him. Caressing her lips with the rough pad of his thumb, he placed feathery kisses all over her face and she felt herself shiver with a new found liveliness as she almost collapsed into his embrace. She felt his warm breath on the curl of her ear as if he were whispering to her; taking her in his arms and crushing her frame against his.

Then the alarm clock buzzed annoyingly and the bittersweet vision dropped into nothingness like a burst bubble.

Ugh.

Lightning slammed her fist down on the unfortunate time piece, silencing it. The table that held the clock shuddered and creaked under her annoyed abuse.

It was going to be a long day.

Running her hands over her face, lingering a moment over her lips, then through her wild black tresses, she reached over to her rickety nightstand and plucked a thin hair tie out of the top drawer, sliding it down onto her wrist. Overtaken by a yawn, she stretched her arms above her head and pointed her toes. Her blanket was sprawled on the floor and the tall, poorly insulated windows of her bedroom were wide open. The long sheer curtains caught the fresh breeze that wafted through the bug screen and cooled Lightning's dampened nude skin as she lay there for a few more minutes before hauling herself out of bed. From the scent and feeling of heaviness in the air she could tell it had rained last night.

The air conditioning unit had broken shortly after last month's delivery so she had to sleep and eat and generally attempt to function in the sweltering heat until the next round of supplies was scheduled. Thankfully that was tomorrow. Then she'd have the replacement part that would orchestrate her deliverance into sweet temperature regulation and be sleeping with her blanket again. It was so hot that even the concrete floor in her bathroom provided no relief. She had been paranoid for the first couple years of sleeping nude; thinking someone would come upon her, but that never happened. The only person that might stumble upon her dwelling was the Colonel, and he would always message ahead. No one was out here. Over the last few years as the population of Gran Pulse swelled with Cocoon families, no native inhabitants were ever found, and no one ever did figure out what happened to all those people who used to live on this planet.

Pulling her hair back into a ponytail with the tie she put her hands on the vanity, leaning forward to peer at herself in the mirror. Grabbing her toothbrush, she added paste, stuffed it in her mouth and started brushing. Her heart hurt this morning. Instead of an all-consuming pain, it was a shadow of it's former torture. Though the burning ache was diminished, that didn't mean she wouldn't think about him today; her feelings for him never extinguished. She still felt the need for him and still felt the sting of that need being unfulfilled. There were still days when she wanted to give up. She not only missed him, but she was beginning to miss Serah as well. If she couldn't summon the courage to go and visit her beloved little sister, why even bother going on herself? She had been working on the issues that weighed her down and was making decent progress, but she still didn't feel ready. She wondered if the pain of his passing lingered for Serah as well, genuinely hoping that she was still young enough to get over it. No one should have to go through what Serah went through.

When everything you had is lost, what is left to live for? She sincerely hoped Serah had found something to live for.

Once in the quicksand of self-pity, her day was pretty much ruined. She still hadn't figured out how to pull herself out of the sand trap yet; but she'd made some real progress over the last twelve months. Turning on the tap, she splashed ice cold water on her face, thankful that something in the house was cold. Cold dribbles down her chest felt like shocks, temporarily grounding her; bringing her back to her reality. Looking back into the mirror, she scoffed at her reflection. Tch.

"You're a fool."

This had become a daily ritual. It was either a pep talk, very personal condemnation, disapproval or reprimand; pick one. She'd done them all. She looked at the situation a million different ways. What could she have done differently? In reality she never told Snow how she felt about him. After that night by the waterfall, she had been so cold towards him. He'd wanted to talk about it, but she flat out refused. That was a mistake; she realized that now. And then the gods had given her another chance to say what she wanted to say; and he had demanded it from her, but still she couldn't. Sometimes her wrist still tingled when she thought about his hand clutching her, begging to hear her confession. No one had ever made her feel the way that he had and from the very beginning she knew that he was nothing but trouble, but in the end and in spite of all her cautionary actions, he turned her into a quivering, wanting mess.

Tch! Bringing more water to her face, she scoured her skin and rinsed again. If she kept thinking like this all day she'd never get anything done. Stripping Snow's memento from around her arm, she laid the piece of cloth gently on the side of the sink, forcing herself to look away. Tapping a on a panel beside the door, the soft sound of music filled the room. Before she arrived here, she'd been a fan of silence, but the entire house was equipped with speakers in every room. The speakers were primarily used for hands-free, wireless communication with head office, but the previous officer had modified the system so that it also piped music throughout the house.

Opening the door to the shower, she turned on the water and stepped inside. Showering quickly and wrapping herself in a towel, she went back into her room to dress. Picking up the discarded blanket, she made the bed, tucking it in absently wondering why she even bothered to make the bed. Though, she knew why. At first she hadn't bothered with the bed, convinced that it didn't matter. But as it turned out, something so mundane helped her to keep her brain busy and her thoughts from straying. With the bed tucked in neatly and wet towel hung up, she dressed in her modified uniform and headed for the kitchen.

She learned early on in her adventures on Pulse that a skirt in the wilderness didn't do her any favours, so she added some thigh high socks to her wardrobe. The first few times she went out without protection, her thighs got flogged by low hanging branches, bitten by hungry bugs and slashed by thorns and thistles. It didn't take her long to order a near lifetime supply of the knit socks. She went through a pair a week. She had thought about getting slacks to wear, but it was so humid and they were incredibly uncomfortable. Even though she was alone in the wilderness, her hesitant nudity didn't extend to anywhere outside her domicile, so a second skin of pants wasn't going to work. With the socks, she could push them down or take them off as her skin demanded.

Popping some bread into the toaster, she went to the fridge and poured herself some orange juice. Her fridge was pitifully bare; it was always like that when the month drew to a close. Grabbing the butter and a knife, she stood at the toaster looking absently out the open window at the breathtaking scenery. She never got tired of looking at the trees and the terrain. This was almost like heaven; like Cocoon had been before all that l'Cie mess. In a month it would be midsummer; when everything would be at its greenest from the persistent rains and once upon a time, all of Cocoon had marked the event by wishing on extravagant fireworks. Midsummer also brought her birthday. She'd be twenty-five this year.

Just like every morning for the last three years, she went through the same motions. Usually a couple buttered slices of toast, sometimes a bagel, and orange juice for breakfast. This day was no different. Tapping the blade of the knife on the counter she wondered what Snow had liked to eat for breakfast. She wasn't much of a cook, but she fancied the idea of making him toast and getting him a glass of milk. Knowing him, they'd probably have an argument about who was going to serve who breakfast.

Her mind was all over this morning thanks to Snow's starring role in her dream. Sitting down to eat, she focused on the things she needed to accomplish today. Primarily she had to go and collect her water containers to record the amount of rainfall last night. Her job on Pulse wasn't difficult by any means, and she loved living out in the wild. There had been the odd time where she'd have to fight off a monster or two to complete a task, but encounters were few and far between. Amodar had replaced her gunblade with an updated model and she trained for a couple hours a day to stay in top form. One couldn't be soft out here; soft things got eaten or worse. Finishing her breakfast leisurely, she rinsed her dish and cup and headed for the door.

There were a dozen rain stations in her area and the Corps supplied her with a quick and compact air bike to use to get around. She hated the damn things, but it cut her travel time in half. She'd gotten so good on it that she didn't even have to dismount at some stations. In the beginning, she needed a map for the first six months to find her way around the complex area, and when she made her way to the final station the sun hung low in the sky. This was her favourite rain station; she had to walk about a couple hundred feet into the brush to get to it. This is where the high socks were really useful. Since her l'Cie brand had disappeared, she didn't have any sort of magic at her disposal, so whatever scrapes and bruises she acquired out here had to heal the old fashioned way. Luck was on her side when it came to random encounters though and the wildlife she did run into she could deal with. As she approached the man-made pole, she spit on her hands and rubbed them together, readying them for the short climb to the top to observe and record. Once at the top, she scribbled the data down on the notepad retrieved from her leg pouch. Taking a moment to look at the sunset, she breathed deeply, freshness and fragrance swaddling her body. There was really no other place that could quiet her soul like right here. Countless times over the last three years she found herself teetering on this perch in the sky watching the fiery horizon at sunset; bright oranges and hot reds. The contrast with the lush greens below appealed to her sense of beauty, almost taking her breath away. It instilled within her a sense of simplicity and sometimes she came here with no purpose other than to watch the day draw to a close. Today had taken longer than was usual for her rounds, but when she awoke this morning to realize she'd dreamt of him, she knew it was bound to happen. Terribly unfocused, she had taken a wrong turn a few hours ago and added at least an hour to her work day.

Oh well, not like there's anyone to hurry home to.

Admonishing herself still, she tucked away the pad and started to make her way down the thick wooden shaft.

As she came to a stand on the moss, she heard a rustle in the trees. She stopped and listened for it, muting all other sounds that weren't relevant, creating a picture in her head of the area and the approximate distance to the sound. Again the rustling came and she looked towards the noise. It drew closer. She reached around her back and clutched the handle of her weapon. Silently, she inched back towards where she had parked her vehicle. The rustling grew louder still, but now she started to feel tremors at her feet and as she took note of them, a young behemoth came barrelling out of the brush and yelped when it saw her, screeching to a halt.

Shit. Not good.

She knew where a little behemoth was, there was a big one right behind it. They apparently were very attentive parents, and even though they were fierce on their own, when one of their young felt threatened it would yelp and the parent would blindly engage whatever threat lay ahead. Although Lightning wasn't stupid enough to do it, she might have been able to take on a single youth, but even on her best day a full grown Behemoth would end her real quick. Game over.

Swallowing the panic in her throat, she was quickly calculating the distance to clear the brush and how fast her legs could carry her, deciding to make a run for it. The tremors grew more intense as she knew the Behemoth was closing the distance between itself and it's offspring. While she backed away, a twig snapped loudly under her foot, breaking the tense silence.

Shit.

Pivoting on that foot, she sprinted away from the youth. Low hanging branches stung her face as she ran full tilt towards her bike. Once she reached that, she'd put some quick vertical distance between herself and the raging adult. Behind her, although, she heard the youth giving chase, and it was gaining on her.

Hrmph.

The proximity of the animal and the thrill of the chase had her limbs primed for action as she heard it snarl behind her. Snapping her fingers, the anti-gravity unit jolted to life as she launched herself forward and away from the Behemoth's unpracticed paw swipe. Recalculating the distance, she didn't dare glance behind her for fear of being stopped quite suddenly by one of the trees she now found herself weaving in and out of. Even if she managed to get away from the little one, the big one wasn't far behind, but safety couldn't be much farther now. A sharp lurch of the ground made her lose her footing and she hit the ground hard, even with the anti-gravity device activated. Her face raked against something unyielding and sharp, and something pierced into her, pain lancing up her right side, but she had no time to think about what was happening. She scampered to her feet, discombobulated with a familiar metallic taste in her mouth, turning to face the threat. Drawing her blade and aiming directly in front of her, she barely saw the beast as it lunged, going in for the kill.

Not so fast...

Pulling back on the trigger, five shots fired off in rapid succession into her target's skull. On auto-pilot and adrenaline, she pushed herself out of the way as it went limp, sliding past her leaving a path of broken vegetation in it's wake. Sheathing her weapon, she touched her face to feel the sticky liquid that dripped off her chin. Unbuckling her white coat, she wiped at her chin smearing her own blood all over the coat and planted it underneath the young one's paw. At least that would serve to give her some extra time to escape.

Leaving the scene behind her, she continued her short sprint to safety.

Once she was safely astride her ride and far enough in the air to keep her away from a pissed off Behemoth, the adrenaline wore off and she felt woozy. Her right side felt wet and she put a hesitant hand under her arm and winced. Her zip up sweater was soaked through with her warm blood. Tch. At least her life blood bought her enough time to escape that scene, or else she'd been dead. Focus. She told herself. It's not far now.

She wasn't sure how she managed to make it into the house considering how much blood she lost. Nevertheless, if she didn't get herself fixed soon she was going to pass out from exhaustion and maybe bleed to death in the process.

Stripping off her clothing as she staggered to the bathroom, she looked at her gory mess of a body in the full length mirror. Lifting right her arm gingerly to see, the gash started just under her arm and was quite long, and fairly deep; but thankfully it was mostly clean. She hastily picked out a couple of large, bloody wooden splinters, tossing them on the floor. The wound needed to be stitched up, she reckoned.

Great. Note to self. Avoid running full tilt through thick brush.

There was a sewing kit and rubbing alcohol for just such an occasion in the shallow closet of the bathroom. Armed with the knowledge she acquired in training about having to sew someone up, she set to the task at hand. Her hands were shaking erratically when she washed them clean of her blood in the sink. Pouring some rubbing alcohol in a cup, she dropped in some thread from the sewing kit she found, soaking it. Grabbing the lighter she used to light a candle in the bathroom every now and again, she retrieved the thin, straight needle supplied in the sewing kit and ran it through the flame a few times. Picking up the alcohol soaked thread, she ran the end through the eye of the sterilized needle, tying a thick knot at the other end. She sat stark naked on a wash stool in front of the mirror, arm in the air, trying to calm herself and her trembling hands. She didn't have anything to numb the site with, so she was inevitably going to feel every stitch. Closing her eyes, attempting to recall courage to her side, she was presented with Snow's smiling visage. His masculine timbre came back to her. Hang in there, there's still hope.

The first stitch was absolute torture. Between the pain of the wound and her lethargic stitching, she almost doubted she could go through with the rest. With tears in her eyes, she gritted her teeth and continued. Slowly, painfully and with difficulty, she completed her fleshy seam and covered her handiwork with a large pad of gauze and some medical tape.

"Man, I could really use a drink..." Lightning muttered, sitting on the chair for a few extra minutes before tending to the rest of her wounds.

Surveying her bloodied face in the mirror, she cursed, hoping it looked worse than it was. Opening the medicine cabinet under the sink, she pulled out a few things to continue the self-repair. Remembering the panel on the wall, she tapped it, prompting soft music to once again fill the room as she got down to work.

After dabbing at her face to soften the crusted blood, she tossed ball after ball of cotton into the garbage as she uncovered the full extent of her wounds. She must have fell on a rock, a large gash split her right cheek. Thankfully this one didn't need stitching up. She wasn't sure if she could do that twice in one day. Dipping a clean cotton ball into some medicinal concoction she found under the sink, she blotted the wound. It stung like hell and a string of obscenities seeped through her clenched teeth. As she moved down the cut, it fizzed slightly, stinging the entire time. Once again she reflected that those l'Cie powers would have been useful to help take care of the healing process, but that was only a memory now. The erotic feel of Snow laying hands on her while they sat at the bottom of some dark hole, getting to know each other intimately by sharing energies pushed itself to the forefront of her mind. She'd been scared for his life back then, but never really doubted her ability to save him. The power of the l'Cie had never failed them. Not until the end; not until it really mattered.

Unsheathing a couple of sticky cloth bandages, she pressed the wound together and plastered them on. She cleaned the other abrasions and noted that her lips were already unusually plump, the bottom one split down the centre. Staring at her battered face in the mirror, she reflected on the last time her face looked like this. That was the night that she had made the decision to turn her life around. Back then she had no idea how hard the next few years were going to be. She sighed and wobbled to her bed, too tired to put away the supplies and clean up.

Zack was going to be asking questions about her face tomorrow. Tch. She almost loathed the compassionate attention that she was bound to receive from him. Besides the Colonel, her only other link to the outside world came in the form of the dark haired, handsome young man who worked for the delivery service. When she first met him, she didn't even have time to realize that she knew him, because he instantly threw his arms, rather familiarly, around her. He reminded her that he had served her the first alcoholic drink she'd ever had.

"How could I forget someone like you?" He had told her with a wink. She thought initially that he must have had a tic because he was always winking.

She entertained that perhaps if he'd never served her that drink she may never had been a drunk. That was in the past at any rate. Still, he was a tactile sort and she often reminded him that his touches were unwanted, and for the remainder of the visit he would respect her wishes. But the next month it was like he forgot her warnings and she'd have to remind him again. Other than his selective memory, he was a pleasant fellow; very energetic. His happy-go-lucky attitude and excited outlook on life annoyed her at first, but she soon appreciated his monthly visits, even looked forward to them. Lightning was never good with people, but he seemed to not care about her almost silent treatment and chattered at her as if she were an old friend. He came like clockwork once a month to deliver goods and supplies to her out in the wilds of Gran Pulse and after unloading the supply plane he'd stay for a while and talk with Lightning, keeping her abreast about matters pertaining to the outside world. One day a month it was like she was normal again, but regrettably the time passed all too quickly.

Leaving the dim lamp in her room on, she crawled into bed. Before sleep took her, she found herself hoping for something she, in the past, wanted no part of; but tonight she hoped to dream of Snow again.

Last night she'd slept soundly enough despite - or maybe because of - her injuries but Snow hadn't come to her. Maybe had she lost too much blood to dream, she had no idea how things like that worked.

She strolled stiffly down the pier towards the supply plane, watching Zack work. His gravity defying black hair shone under the morning sun; almost with a hint of blue in it. He was always punctual and always ready to chat. If there was nothing pressing that day, she typically took delivery days as her 'day off' to enjoy the captive company. Although, some times it felt she was the one captive, but she rarely minded.

On her days off she always went barefoot. Her uniform was comfortable enough, but she liked to change now and again. Today she couldn't have worn her uniform even if she wanted to. It painfully compressed the slash on her side, so instead, she sported a pale yellow t-shirt and some wide leg jeans. Coming to a stop a few feet away from him, she stood there and observed until he noticed her.

Coming out of the back of the plane with a heavy looking box in his arms, he finally noticed her and put the box down, saluting her with his usual vigor. "Hey!" Seeing her reddened skin and abrasions, he cut his salute short and walked towards her, concern creasing his features. "Whoa, Av! What happened to you?" He reached a hand out toward the side of her face, the backs of his fingers brushing her cheek. She recoiled; his touch sending a shock through her. He'd never touched her face before.

Zack pulled his hand back awkwardly. "Sorry. Uh... What happened?" He leaned in a little towards her to get a better look, but kept his hands to himself.

"Behemoth." Lightning said shortly, looking away from him out the side of her eyes.

"Jeeze. You gonna be ok?"

"Yeah. You should see the other guy." She cracked dryly. It had been funnier when Snow had said it.

Zack looked at her blankly for a moment then chuckled. "Good one."

Lightning shifted her weight awkwardly.

"Oh! I brought something for you. Hold on!" His lively blue eyes lit up as he ran back into the plane. She looked over the supply crates and boxes that he'd unloaded, spying the box that housed the air conditioner part she needed. Finally she'd have relief from the unrelenting heat. Maybe she'd still sleep nude though, she kind of liked it.

"I've seen your food requisitions. You might as well be eating styrofoam. So..." he brought a brown paper sack out from behind his back and presented it. "I brought us lunch!"

She had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised. She also assumed that was Zack's intention. He'd been relentless in his attempts at making her smile and she'd shot him down after every single one of them. Never one for meaningless gestures and artificial shows of emotion, Lightning couldn't remember the last time she actually felt like smiling.

"Let's go eat. I'll finish unloading your stuff later." Zach nodded at her and started down the pier.

Stifling a groan, she carefully picked up the box with the precious air conditioning part and followed, muttering. "I'm not here to eat. I'm here to work..."

"I hope you like fried rice and veggies!" he sung to her, turning his head to the side. She rolled her eyes at the enthusiastic grin plastered on his profile.

As they approached the door to the house, she turned to head to the back to repair the air conditioning unit. "There's plates in the kitchen. I'm gonna go and fix the air conditioner. I'll be back."

"Air conditioner? Oh, right. That part. Why don't you go inside and I'll go fix it?" he offered her the brown bag.

Lightning looked at the bag then back to his face with a raised eyebrow. "I've got it."

"I insist. You look like a Juggernaut's chew toy." He put the bag by the door when she didn't take it, smiling easily, putting his hands on the other end of the medium sized box.

Her look was one of utter annoyance. "I said I've got it." He let go of the box, her silent glare promising bodily harm if he didn't. She turned around with the box and shuffled off.

"You're scary sometimes, Av!" He called from behind her. She rolled her eyes again and kept walking.

She knew exactly how to repair the unit, so it took very little time. In fact, she invested more time in attempting to painlessly walk from place to place. Lightning had never been what one would call useless. Whatever tasks needed to be done after her parents died fell upon her to complete and so she actually had a wide variety of skills. When Zack had 'insisted' that he take care of the work and she go take care of things in the kitchen, she reacted poorly to his offer. Did anything about her say 'housewife'? I think not. Then again, she reminded herself that Zack might have genuinely wanted to help and that he didn't actually deserve her ire. Just like how he didn't deserve her constant suspicion regarding his merciless courtesy and thoughtfulness. In her experience people like that weren't genuine and always had a hidden agenda. Over the last year she'd known him, he never once did anything that made her mistrust him; with the exception of the touchy-feely stuff, but he was never vulgar or disrespectful. All his touches had been friendly and warm, just like his eyes. It was nice to think that she had a friend after so long, but she'd never admit that to him.

She finished up with the unit and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. The heat never gave up around here. Entering the house from the back door, she headed for the kitchen, the delicious smell wafting past her nostrils. When she arrived in the kitchen she noticed that Zack had everything out and open on the table. He smiled at her when she came into the room. He hadn't started eating yet. She walked past him and washed her oily hands up in the sink, drying them on a nearby tea towel. He was watching her.

"You have something on your forehead..." he said, tapping his own to provide her with an estimation of where the something was. She raised her hand and rubbed where he'd shown her. "Ah, the other side." She moved her hand to rub there. "You're missing it..." he stood and approached her, reaching his hand out to buff away the offending smear of oil left over from the fix-it job. He was very tall, easily half a foot taller than she. Not as tall as Snow, and built quite differently, but he was still imposing. Touching the pads of his fingers to her tanned skin, he gently rubbed away the smudge. The first touch out on the pier shocked her; barely feeling it before it was gone. He obviously didn't catch the hint the first time, but the counter top behind her prevented her from pulling away from him this time.

And for the second time inside a half an hour, he touched her face. "Zack..." she started, looking up into his face, her voice a little breathier than she would have liked. Butterflies fluttered uncomfortably in her stomach.

"Yes, Av?" he said quietly, his voice slipping into a sensual baritone that sent a shiver up her spine. His fingertips had migrated to her cheekbone and he started to slowly move his face towards hers.

She stood unable to move or speak only for a moment, dazzled, but quickly she recovered and found her voice. "...keep your hands to yourself." she finished flatly, walking past him and taking a chair at the table. She could hear him release a small sigh and a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. As he turned around, she was sure to force her mouth back into its usual tight line.

"Right. Sorry." Clearing his throat, he took his place back at the table. "Well! Dig in!" His smile returned to its familiar easiness as he handed her one of the take out containers. She took it from his hand and they commenced the meal.

While they ate he was chattering on about this and that, and she mostly tuned out what he was saying in favour of concentrating on the drone of his voice. His voice was quite youthful sounding, not very deep at all when speaking in his usual jovial manner, but she found it pleasant nonetheless. It was nice to visit with him and even though she spurned his attempts to get close to her, no matter what his underlying intentions may have been, she had come to appreciate that he must have liked her very much. Her interaction with men on a personal level had been limited at best, but she was no dummy. She had no intention of leading him on, but she had to admit that she enjoyed every interaction with him and because of that, she was never too harsh in refusing his affections. After all, her heart was still damaged, and Zack deserved better than damaged goods...

"There was a skirmish involving an anti-Pulse group in Bodhum a couple weeks ago." he said the name of her hometown, and her ears perked up. He knew she was from there.

She looked up from her plate, heart in her throat. Serah. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Thankfully no one was hurt, just a huge mess. Some vandalism and mild violence. I don't know when people will understand that Gran Pulse isn't what we were lead to believe." his tone changed. "I guess it will take a lot of work undo centuries of lies..." He chewed thoughtfully. "Oh! That reminds me. I brought you a Bodhum newspaper." Reaching over the back of the chair for his bag, he dug around and pulled out a thin fold of black and white paper and sat it on the table.

Resting her chopsticks on the edge of her plate she took the offering and glanced eagerly at the front page. Hero saves local farming family. Under the headline was a picture of the 'hero' standing with, what she assumed to be, the family mentioned in the headline. The picture was grainy, and he looked a few years older, but he was absolutely unmistakable. She felt herself sigh gently with warm recognition.

"Av? What's wrong?" Zack must have seen the odd look on her face.

She couldn't rip her eyes from the page. "I know him."

A/N: I made a little mistake above - and it doesn't actually change the story to come at all - I don't know how it got past me, tbh. To those who have already read, sorry about that!