Chapter Seven

Author's notes: Full credit to Fragma & Coco Star for the lyrics to I Need A Miracle; again absolutely no intent of profit or gain is intended, the story is for amusement only. Again, Muse's musical picks to inspire the scene in Babylon was dead on; not only Fragma, but Christina Aguilera's Dirrrty, & MBLAQ's Smoky Girl was somehow mysteriously loaded onto an Ipod playlist and prodded memories of another Babylon…

Lightning wearily dropped the formal affair in black chiffon on a chair at the house and changed into her Valhalla riding leathers; perhaps she'd go down to Valhalla and talk to Lexis, or Snow. Neither of them had been invited to Serah's birthday party, as they were bar rats, despite helping to raise Serah as their own these past 5 years. Her cell purred and thinking Hope was calling with some kind thought, she reached for it and automatically said "Lightning."

"I'll be there in 5 more minutes, and don't go to work without me. We need to talk, Farron."

The color drained out of Lightning's face and she scrambled for some response, than thought: To hell with it. I don't need to explain this. "Are you calling as my employee or the avenging angel of Serah, Kreiss? Either way, my family affairs are really none of your business. Oh, by the way? Take the night off. I'll text you, IF I need you."

She hung up and set the cell to silent and cheerfully ignored the 4 calls and 2 texts from a jilted nomad lover that never was all the way to Oldtown.

The house was packed, it was a killer night and Lexis screeched in delight that she'd showed up; immediately she begged for Lightning to consider one client; something in her said Baste it, this is my home. Who cares. I owe Lexis, not Serah or Noel. She cheekily said: "Hey, Lexis? No need for private tonight. Let's give them a taste of what goes on behind closed doors!" Lexis stared at her, then screeched again: "You scamp! You genius! We'll double profit tonight! – But seriously, Light, you don't have to. You're gonna inherit this wreck one day, ya know that?" Her faded lavender eyes were nothing but tenderly kind towards her protégé and she gripped the cold hand to reassure her; Light seemed somewhat off tonight, a brittle edge to her voice that was giving her an undercurrent of unease. She put it down to the situation she was in, and hoped that damned shadow hunter would quit hanging about with his nose into everything and wrap up the case soon. He'd sent her 5 texts in the last two hours, each more demanding than the last. She wished he'd keep closer to his client as she sent a text back that said: Relax, baby girl showed up.

Light shrugged and ran to change. The house lit on fire when they heard Lightning was on deck, and it was rumored she was entertaining a kingpin tonight; their howls of anticipation were rewarded with a stunning sexy Valkyrie in an outfit that seemed all diamonds, if a few strategically placed scraps of fabric and glued on brilliants could be called that. It left the perfect globes of her derriere almost completely exposed and made every foot fetishist jaws' drop with a pair of high heeled sandals that matched the icy pink tint of her hair perfectly; even the footerotica flashed with ice pink brilliants; to add to the scandalous ensemble, she knotted a tee over the bikini top that read 'Fuck the Fal'Cie' that would be ripped off later and thrown to the crowd when she damn well felt like it.

Cid Raines, the co-owner of Babylon and a crimelord extraordinaire , was in the house tonight and his sec men surrounded him in a tight circle as he pushed up to the front of the stage and grinned at her, then daringly threw his sword , impaling it on the wood of the stage floor. It quivered and the steel shimmered as the dancer flipped off the pole she been spinning on upside down and decided it was time to get really outrageous; she placed her hands on the hilt, then slowly ground her hips down to the ground in her best come-baste-me, then ever so delicately licked the blood groove of the blade all the way up, and winked at the crowd, who seemed to be nothing but a large primal growling beast at that point. Daggers and weapons came out by the score and the drinking hell resounded with the steady thump of the pommels and grips being slammed into the tables, the stage, the bars, even the walls to match the heavy thumping beat. She was their darling, the one and only no-holds-barred, fierce, sexy, angel of Oldtown, their fuck-the-Fal'Cie-spit –in-your-eye symbol of it all and they let her know it. She felt their goodwill and hot lust buoying her spirits up and she finally cracked her rare 1000 watt smile at the crowd. Then rather satisfied, she nodded at Raines, and two slim hands pulled the sword out of the wood and started the 3rd kata of the attack in time to the music as he sat back and enjoyed watching the sexiest, hottest bit of pink ice in Academia play with his personal property.

At the finale, she wickedly took the neck off the bottle that was at his table, then carefully presented the blade back with a caress to his handsome face before turning back to the crowd and announcing : "So…what do you maniacs want to see next?" She took another request, from Raines of course, to work it with him to another popular hit and she gave it to him like he was the only man in the room, which had the effect of exciting the patrons to play with each other as well as greedily enjoy the eye candy of Lightning and Raines. Everyone agreed they made a very sexy couple; his dark hair and lean physique contrasted well with her slim curves and rose tints. Snow was literally pouring open bottles into open mouths and grabbing cash left & right as they started to move on the dance floor as a couple after light had delivered a rousing orgasmic solo moving around, in front, below him and on him like she was his prized pet let out to play; he handled her spins and steps with admirable grace, being a former club dancer for his family business himself before coming of age and added a nice bit of masculine naughtiness to the show. Everything was good, everything was feeling alright, she'd almost let the party incident scar over, until she saw Noel in his nomad clothes leaning in his usual spot against the wall, sword hanging off his back, his arms crossed and scowling at her like thunder. Then all the joy of the night drained away underneath the steady sardonic scrutiny of those fiery sapphire blue orbs. He jerked his head towards the door, looking even angrier if possible. She stood stock still, then turned away like he was nothing. She was at the limit of what she could take.

Go away. Go back to your desert, go back to my ever loving sister and go make love to her – I saw you! I never stood a chance, did I, Etro? That look made me feel like the biggest whore on the planet and damn it all, he's right. I am a whore. I come here every night and use my body to excite them all into a frenzy and take their money for the pleasure of watching me move. I play into all their fantasies, everyone wants the Valkyrie but no one wants the real Lightning. I am so far from where I wanna be. I need to get out of here.

She burned at the memory of her sister and Noel together as it sank deep its teeth deep into her. She realized what a fool she was for even thinking that there was something between her and the handsome brunette, despite the initial reaction. Disgusted at herself, she threw it all on the fire of her will and disconsolate, watched her secret hope start burning up.

She finished her act, and took her leave of the very pleased crime lord, who daringly licked his hilt in a brazen invitation mimicking her earlier act; she simply put on her smiling mask and pointed him to the 2nd floor door and suggested an appointment sometime; she lied and said she was booked for a private party next, but as soon as she was free later tonight she'd drop by Babylon; the truth was she didn't think she could take him feeling like this; the haughty disgusted look of Noel was eating into her now like a soft corrosive acid, making her feel something she hadn't allowed in her life for the longest time: shame.

The burn was bad now, and she couldn't take being in Valhalla a minute longer; she avoided Noel, striding down the little maze of backstage walkways shouting her name; she kept just out of his line of sight , pausing every few steps or so as he turned around and around frustrated as hell and managed to duck her way to the back door by the back bar. She was stopped by the chorus girls who were going out to the streets whom cheerfully invited her to come along; she scrambled into her leather riding pants, and one of the security hoodies, not bothering to take off her costume or wipe off her makeup, just another girl out on a Saturday night in the city; she ignored Snow's shout and just shrugged, trying to smile, but the smile ran away from her face as he earnestly, knowingly gazed back at her across the bar. She ran back and hugged him and simply said: "I gotta burn it out of me before it chews me up, bro." then ran out before the lump in her throat became obvious. He knew something was up, as he'd known that look – she was hurting. He'd seen Noel's face when Lightning was bringing down the house: Haughty indifference trying to cover envy and disgust, the usual thing from outsiders. So it was with a bit of prejudice he indifferently shrugged when Noel came running down the stairs to look for her a good 10 minutes later. "Hell, Kreiss, I'm not the bodyguard. She's out on the streets tonight. Gotta blow off a little steam, if you catch my drift?"

Noel's eyebrows snapped together and nearly growled back at the big bartender: "Damn it, man! I'm bound by imperial oath to protect, not to hound her! She knows not to go anywhere without me! What possessed her to just go like that? What bad blood is now between her and her sister? Something's off, there's been some incident that has come between them – and neither will open up to me! "

Snow grudgingly gave him a little respect and decided to warn him: "You might want to tread real careful around that tonight, little brother. In fact, don't even let her see your face. Go down to the Body Shop or Babylon in Oldtown, she's running wild with the girls tonight."

Noel gripped his shoulder and gave him a rather soulfully intense look for a man that made Snow blink; it wasn't often his male acquaintances were so sincere like the young hunter in front of him, now turning to go hunt his escaped charge. At least he took his job of guarding her seriously. He coughed and said: "Oh Kreiss?"

Noel looked back:"Snow?"

A pair of oversized sec pants were thrown at him.

"Lose the skirt tonight, willya?"

The girls and Lightning tumbled down into the old part of Oldtown, where the streets were cobbled and the bars were rough, some of them just rooms with liquor, loud horseplay and noise; but the music was the hottest, the moves were the latest, and scene was absolute wildness, if that's what one wanted. Gambling, intoxicants, and million ways to get yourself off all existed in the crowded hells; it was a place for all things, anytime, anywhere. And Lightning wanted. She wanted anything, anything at all to distract her from the burning pain at watching what she wanted so badly for herself given to her sister once again, and given at her lightest touch. He hadn't even put up a fight. He ran to it. That is what really unhinged her. She realized for all the times she'd given her best, it was still nothing. Etro, surely in vain have I have kept my heart pure; surely I have set my feet on the abyss; do not let my feet slip; let me know I have not done all things for you in vain…

She was on the edge tonight, her feet hanging over the abyss once again; she was almost ready to turn into what they thought of her, and some part of her kept desperately fighting it off; she wanted to keep some part of herself clean, whole…open. So it drove her to wild nights like this, hours spent in movement, whether it be prize fighting, dancing, or with a weapon in her hand; she would burn any dark thoughts to ashes; she would make an appointment with weeping, but not tonight. Tonight she was going to get down, and move with the beat until she was raw, sweaty & downright dirty; and anyone was a welcome partner. But no one would be her lover. No one. What she loved wanted no part of her. Therefore, no one got any part of her.

Noel hunted her hard, but it took 3 bars, 2 bribes to bartenders and one knife between a wafter's legs before he finally caught up with the pack of Valhalla Valkyries; it was in the house of Babylon, and true to Oldtown, it proudly advertised itself as THE place for all things, anytime, anywhere.

It was crowded at Babylon, on the verge of manic. There was prize fighting and women's mudwrestling on the lower level, a balcony on the upper level with private booths in the signature purple and gold, looking down on the dance floor. The booths were piled with exotic brocade cushions & there was nothing there but bottle service by gorgeous girls in more signature purple & sparkling gold, who could be had for the right price. The booths were fairly full already, people were celebrating a sports team win and intoxicants were flowing freely. There were even specialty acts, all circus performers: contortionists, fire-eaters, jugglers, acrobats, strongmen; Babylon had them dusted in gold, so they looked incredible strolling through the lounge or dance floor in the evening, surreal statues brought to life in a mad world of purple light.

The music was one heavy hitter after another, which lent wings to the girl's feet; an occasional grin crossed their faces when the music segued into a super bass thumping street poet rhythm cycle, & every amateur out there invaded the floor, veritable carnival of exotic costumes, face paint and style on display. Lightning was on fire, her hair now magenta in the flickering purple light of Babylon, and she kept it up for what seemed like hours; the burn was a roaring bonfire now. Noel could do no more than grasp the railing transfixed, watching her move effortlessly for eons before realizing his hands were gripping the railing like a white knuckled addict, staring at a fix.

He wondered where did all this energy come from? What was driving her?

Etro reached out and touched him with a finger of memory: Desire, it was only desire, you said. Now, learn what it is to truly feel desire. Every time his gaze turned away he was consumed inside with the secret craving for another glimpse, the hunger invading his mind, like a heroin junkie desperately ignoring withdrawal, yet blindly reaching for another fix. Etro-damn, she was extraordinary - whenever she let her glance pause on particular person, they would be mesmerized; invariably, their eyes all said the same thing – I desire you, I adore you, I would die for the merest touch of your hand…or was that some part of him saying that? Noel pantingly pushed down the hot magma of desire that had scorched him the first day they'd met and began to fight himself. He became a statue in a crowd of jumping, screaming, dancing humans, observing the performance, just another punk in an oversized hoodie and pants, but another part of his heart & soul was slowly starting to burn away the last shreds of his resistance.

He'd seen plenty of dancing before, but not like this; it was a thousand women rolled into one, she changed with every new beat or partner or group she moved with; one moment she'd be thrashing her pink hair and stomping to a heavy metal anthem, the next she was grooving with the funkiest old school disco and her hips would swivel in complex patterns that left a man's throat dry; when the beat got downright tribal, she was on it like a nomad, or more like a tribe of nomads; Noel was taken aback at her ability to move like the men with fierce streetwise leaps, turns and dubsteps that seemed to defy normal joint motion, all done with a loose flying grace; then Etro interfered again, nudging the DJ's hand to choose: Here, this one, play this one. He needs to see her with his eyes, not just his heart…

An incredible piece of music came on that drove everyone to a tarantella of madness; it seemed like a choir of angels under laid with a tense questing beat that excited the ear as well as the body; the vocals floated in the air like kisses or perhaps a prayer to Etro; Noel's eyes greedily sought her in luxury of fulfilled fix as she spun across the floor to an open spot; then Lightning was dancing alone in the middle of the throbbing stomping crowd, and it was…beautiful.

She leapt like a classically trained dancer, clean and smooth, yet kept a rocking beat that snapped with passionate accents; she spun with grace, swinging her hips with an every so sexy syncopation that just wouldn't quit; she dropped to her knees and lifted her face to the heavens as if begging Etro herself in a church; was that tears on her cheek? Or was that just water from the sprinklers that just turned on from the ceiling? She was now extending her hands to the cool drops splattering everyone and rose, then somehow she became just movement in time and space; the mask that everyone knew slipped, then Lightning the Valkyrie of Vahalla was lost; a stranger in her custom made leather motorcycle pants and diamond studded bikini top was dancing, a 15 year old girl who'd believed in love, a beautiful blossom unfolding, a talent, a darling child of her doting father's gaze…Darling Claire, I love to watch you dance…

If you're gonna save the day and you're hearin' what I say
I feel your touch, your kiss is not enough
And if you believe in me, don't think my love's for free
I won't take nothin' less than a deeper love

Let me tell you, I know I need a miracle, I need a miracle…

The water cascaded down and she kicked and stomped in it, creating patterns of spray around her and the novelty of it was picked up by the crowd around her; soon they were all stomping in rhythm together, spinning, rolling, sliding, in a glorious explosion of movement that somehow made it all right; she'd finally worked through her pain and come out on the other side. There was no going back now; she let it go; she said goodbye to her secret dream of love with Noel and just existed in the moment; because that's the way it had to be. He was the answer to her prayer, she wanted so badly to be rescued by his love, You know..I need a miracle…I need a miracle…that was exactly what she secretly wanted in her life - it was not physical; physical was all round her, gleaming hard bodies of every species of man and woman who'd lick her ankles and hand over their entire paycheck for a chance at the Valkyrie Lightning of Vahalla. No, it was no less than love, a love match made in heaven that Lightning's heart and soul craved. This time she'd given it her all, even her own lifeblood, and she lost him to her sister. But then in another way, she'd won. She hadn't sold herself, she hadn't begged, she did not try to hold on to something she couldn't have. She told herself to just leave some corner of herself open to love, somewhere, with someone, someday.

She finally slowed down after that, gulping air and laughing with the soaked crowd; her hair was wringing wet, she gleamed with a slick coating of water, sweat, and Etro knows what else, her makeup was smeared, but she was gloriously in tune with herself again. She had a handle on her life again; she laid her heart on the altar, Etro accepted it and burnt it to a blackened ash.

The shadow that was Noel Kreiss leaned on the wall, only the full mouth and firm jaw visible under the hood in dim purple light of the squalid night club; she walked right by him, close enough to touch; he kept still, keeping his hands jammed in the pockets of the hooded jacket with an iron will. He'd totally misunderstood the dynamics of the situation at the party tonight; he vowed he'd be spending a lot more time with a certain dancer to get some answers of what the hell was really going on; this wasn't a spat between sisters; this was something far more primal, something that dug down deep into the rift of the soul, some fundamental difference that set the two against each other.

He'd never seen this face of Lightning before, and it was a revelation and a puzzle to him; it had almost hurt to watch her burn herself out over whatever the hell was eating at her tonight. At first he'd been disgusted, the places the girls went were filthy, low class hells filled with sweating, exotic, extreme examples of the dregs of Academia's society that drank and smoked and inhaled in a frenzy. The atmosphere seemed to be all sex, drugs and beats at first and Noel had promised himself he'd walk away if she spread her legs for anyone here tonight; it was bad enough watching the chorus girls distribute their favors. But contrary to expectation, she went with no one, gave no favor to any dance partner, despite the most obvious offers; oh yes, she had all the bodies she could handle, but she remained a solitaire, a single flashing diamond in the smoky dance hell, somehow pure despite the filth and squalor around her. He just couldn't get over the contrast and fell asleep juggling the mask he'd come to know and this hidden glimpse of desperate purity behind it. Somewhere between sleep and waking, something deep in his soul somehow sparked, then somehow all the negativity changed polarity….a switch flipped…a byte changed from zero to one…something dry and dead was watered…something ugly bloomed into something beautiful.

It had been a long night for everyone, especially Noel, since he had to wait a good half hour before he could ensure he was able to leave undetected; he was good, but there were at least 7 chorus girls to avoid as well as Lightning. He felt like his head had hit the pillow only 10 minutes ago when the sun came in through the crack in the curtains; and his cell was buzzing with 2 texts and a call; he blearily stared at Lightning's text message: 6:38 AM: Kreiss. Practice at V's 8 AM.

It was 7:03 AM, and he simply rolled, threw the sword scabbard over a shoulder and galloped out the door. 15 minutes later he was pulling onto the curb in front of her place; he was alert and bright-eyed from the swift ride on Hope's velocycle, which ran at blinding speed, being lighter and had Hope's own custom fuel system, which was hellishly efficient and could outrun Lightning's big 7500 in the narrow streets of the city. Lightning was silent, casually dressed in old fatigues and a worn tee shirt, her eyes hidden behind standard military issue aviator's sunglasses, with her gunsaber holster slung over her shoulder. Serah was nowhere to be seen and Noel at first frowned; then Snow poked his head out of the door and threw Lightning her cell and waved at Noel rather cheerfully, so Noel relaxed, knowing Serah was not alone in the house. She stayed silent during the ride to Valhalla and took great care to avoid any physical contact with Noel, which was pretty hard to do in a velocycle; it prickled on the edge of Noel's awareness, and he was definitely getting the sense something was very off. What the baste has bitten Lightning's ass? Does she know? Did someone tell her I've chosen Serah? Why is she acting like I'm the last person she wants to see again? I have got to find a way to get her to talk to me; maybe I should listen to the dancer's gossip at Valhalla today; even if Lightning isn't the type to share her feelings, someone may have some observation about this rift between the Farron sisters. Etro, what a night! He decided to stick around for practice and see how her mood was today, and had half a hope that he'd see another glimpse behind Lightning-the-basting-bitch-of-bitches mask. With the best of intentions he opened his mouth to ask if she'd like him as a practice partner later; she used to constantly ask him when they first were thrown together, and figured she couldn't resist his offer.

He was quite surprised when she all but shut the door in his face. A muffled voice said coldly: "I'll text *if* I need you, Kreiss." It was a far cry from the warmly cordial tone he'd heard the night they paid a visit to a Fal'Cie and he began to mentally review every action that had happened since yesterday through today. He'd made the mistake of asking the sec men drifting in to practice if they'd noticed anything and was rewarded with a sarcastic: "Weelll, if someone would get his head out from between someone's legs, he'd see he'd been licking the ass of the wrong Farron; not my fault if you can't figure it out, shadow hunter. She's right in there, go ask her yourself." This was said with a jerk of the head towards the plasglass viewing panels, where a pink haired bundle of energy was doing some very nasty things to a practice dummy; this time Noel had the grace to notice the blue skirt and nonplussed, stared at it as it was neatly decapitated again, the head kicked to the plasglass as a bloodthirsty scream bled through the door.

"Ouch. Too bad it's the wrong head." The sarcastic guard chortled, as Noel stoically walked off with the echoes of the sec crew's snickers at being snubbed by their darling in his reddening ears.

While Noel was trying to make his way back to Lightning's house on the east side of Academia, Snow was getting into Serah's face in the living room: "Serah, I see what you're doing. You better think twice before you baste with your sister – she's the one who kept you two together after your mom died, it's her money that's paid for your roof, your food, your school, hell, even the clothes you wear! You'd better not alienate her any farther – I'd apologize and tell her you're grateful she even showed up to your little soiree last night. She tried, Serah, she TRIED to be respectable last night, you saw her – why'd you have to snub your own sister and not invite her? It was your birthday, for Etro's sake! Who bought you the bike for your 13th birthday and went without fuel for a week and walked home from work through Oldtown? What's gotten into you?"

"It's about time you saw me! I'm not a little girl anymore, and I can make my choices, make my own destiny! She really keeps interfering with my life! I can't stay out, I can't date this guy, or go to Oldtown, I have to study and go to all those boring academy evenings where all those old professors just drone on, and there's nothing but coffee and stale cake and Hope blushing every time a wear a dress that shows my breasts!"

"You try being Lightning's little sister, Snow! Etro-damn, I can't even stand to be in the same room with her some days! If anyone at school even had half an idea I was related to her, I'd be either spat on by the acolytes or gang-raped by the rest who seem to think my sister is the end-all, be-all baste of bastes! And any sister of hers must be just like her! I want my own place! I want to live my own life! She keeps interfering with any plans I make, did you know what she did to my last boyfriend? Do you? She pulled him off me by the hair and threw him out the door and let all the neighbors watch her pull her gunsaber and shoot the damn doorlock as he beat on the door naked! I tried to make money, honest, Snow, but it always turns out the same – she gets pissed, or when things get a little risky, well, she somehow finds a way to pull the plug!"

Snow knew she exaggerated in more than one area; he'd heard Hope's complaints about Serah's wild behavior at school; she'd gotten in trouble for running around with too many boys , or some very inappropriate ones; the professor Lightning had dragged off Serah had been dismissed for predatory behavior by Hope, as he had made a habit of preying on pretty young girls with the promise of scholarship recommendations; once Lightning had filed formal complaint, then 2 families did also. He was well aware of her machinations to turn a profit, usually at someone else's expense; he'd often wondered privately who Serah had pissed off in the underbelly of Academia; the attacks seemed more in line with the petty con-world of Oldtown; besides, Lightning had connections with the crime lords; many were clients of Valhalla, and she made it a point to not refuse the lords. If anything , Serah would have had the protection of being Light's sister, not their ire, as Noel had theorized.

Snow began to wonder why Noel hung on Serah so; he knew it was part of the job, but lately he'd been with her almost 24/7, only leaving when he had to; perhaps he was a little sweet on her; that face was the undoing of many men, self included. He knew what a trite snotty little jade she was underneath it all, but he couldn't help but be amused by her. He'd keep her under control if he was hers; he had no doubts he could make her his, but he had smarted over the professor. He'd never see Noel and Serah together, he thought he knew the young man well enough to say he was a picky lover, and being nomad, he probably was still untasted; they were a peculiar lot, deeply spiritual, yet tough as beast's hide. He liked the man; he was clever, skilled, and actually had a dry humor for someone so young. Serah might find him pretty, a novelty, but his intrinsic goodness and complex, disciplined character would clash with her own self-indulgent nature.

Snow took a firm stance and calmly rebutted: "Cut the innocent act, kupo. You're the one who's brought this on you AND your sister – you pissed some Oldtowner off, girl. Now you better tell me who it is, before your pretty butt boy runs himself to death or gets his face carved up just because he asked the wrong question at the right time."

Serah's answer was a resounding crack across Snow's tanned cheek; he just laughed :"Oh, you'll have to better than that to get to me, you jade. You're so scared of losing even one gram of control you're trying to tame a desert wolf into a lap dog, because you can't handle it. You could never handle a real man, girl. At least your sister has the guts to take on real men. "

Serah lost it and sarcastically countered in a strident tone:" Oh, real men? Yeah, and just who do you think she was falling for? That basting 18 year old nomad fresh from the desert and a freaking VIRGIN! Yep! The one and only Noel Kreiss, shadow hunter and lap dog of Etro extraordinaire! What a superb example of how to jack your life up– fall for someone you hired 3 years younger than yourself, 3 classes above your caste and never even been with a girl!"

It was Snow's turn to let his hand connect with Serah's face; he did so rather gently, for his fist could easily hold both of her hands; she stood there shocked, her mouth opening and closing and the palm print glowed pink against her alabaster cheek; suddenly Snow was sick of playing like he didn't care, that it didn't matter; this was going too far and Serah needed a lesson in humility and what real men were about. So he took her by the shoulders gave her a shake and shoved back onto the couch as he gave it to her straight: "You are a complete basting jade to keep taking what doesn't belong to you, and that includes not only the money you ripped off from half a dozen students, the drugs and gambling debts I paid off to make sure your pretty little nose wasn't cut off, but every man, virgin or not, that your sister even looked at. You haven't got even half the guts your sister has, and I bet you once you get through with Kreiss, you'll be just as bored with him as you were with everyone after you get your way. You might want to reconsider my offer. That is if I haven't gotten so sick of your shite that I'll go for your sister instead!"

She simply launched herself at Snow and began pummeling him with her fists, her face flushing to match the pink palm print and cursing him with several choice words from the lower levels of Oldtown. He let her exhaust herself, then taking her chin in a grip that brooked no opposition, he raised her quivering chin to make her eyes meet his sparkling steely blue. "You see? No one stands up to you like me. They all cave in at those lovely gems, and I know you too well, jadette. Now kiss me before I change my mind and drop you on your backside."