Winking Sage Cider

A/N: Right, so I think I've got a base idea of where this is going. Sadly, for all those wishing to see some wonderfully good lemonade, you'll have to go to the 'adult' version of this site. I won't make a mention of the omitted chapter until it comes down to that. Also, as Adray, Peppita, and Rodger are all additional characters, I won't have them as an actual part of the party.

I apologize if I can't grasp the true level of naiveté and abandon Fayt holds in the game. >_> He's got too much brass for his own good. And 100x10^10 Fayt < 1x Crawd. So you know.

SUMMARY: After collecting Albel from the dungeons of Airyglyph he is forced to accompany the party to the Urssa Lava Caves. Now in Kirlsa, why is Albel in the Storm Brigade manor and leading them on an aimless run in to 'enemy' territory? Cliff begins to put together the pieces of a complex rat-tailed puzzle, but can it truly be called affection?

Warnings: ...Meh. Frequent use of the word ass.

Spoilers: Yes.
Lemon: Just a bit too much sugar, but some lemonade all the same. Watered down for character accuracy.
Chapter: 3/10?
Pairing: Cliff x Albel, but for now Albel x Fayt

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Quotes, food, all that good stuff and characters from the game Star Ocean: Till the End of Time are property of SquareEnix and Tri-Ace (but not respectively).

*s - refer to bottom Notes
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Chapter Three: Second Opinion

Judging from where metal razors rested on his gut, Fayt didn’t doubt a move the wrong way would have him leaving in stitches. Wasn't this guy supposed to be in their side?!

Albel at last noticed he couldn't get an answer when he was keeping the teen muffled, removing his hand from a trembling mouth and coiling it in grey shoulder instead.

Fumbling with himself for an explanation left the Earthling to remain quiet and keep his eyes elsewhere. "Speak, Liengod," came a low-toned order to his ears that made them heat. Before he knew it he wanted to crawl under a rock for being caught so witless.

He began to stammer with being put so mentally off-balance. "I didn't mean to. I was coming to see Walter and --"

"And you thought you would listen in on a matter not your concern in the meantime?" A brow hiked in disbelief, accusing him in a voice that didn't line up with the charges. Then again, the chance to poke at his superior in combat was irresistible and he couldn't help but let a shred of delighted pride fill his tone. "Perhaps you aren't as humble a leader as you make yourself out to be."

It was an unnerving thought, Albel somehow finding his gratification in belittling, demeaning, and controlling people. "I didn't mean to." As if it would hold more ground if he repeated himself enough. Chancing a glance for the swordsman left him feeling even more ashamed. But, then... "So this is where you're staying?"

Not pleased with the change of topic left the other to shove him the non-existent distance in to the wall so he could stride away for the bedroom window. The servant in the room so far had said nothing, and proceeded to do so as she skittered off in to the side room.

"Seeking congratulations for such a mindless task? You can leave now." It wasn't a suggestion.

Albel's back wasn't nearly as expressive as his front, but at least it gave Fayt a chance to study the decoration of his cape's belt. The katana was missing, but he easily discovered it on the undisturbed bed, sitting ominously within reach of a good dive from the taller fighter. Not that he much needed it, with the plates of steel that substituted as his left arm.

"You could have told us where you were going." He didn't want to call the other out for hiding away from them just yet. The man had gone through a rather humbling last few weeks.

Coaled brunet jumped with the pair of tails off the back of his head as he snapped, "But I didn't, fool."

Deep jades scowled at the swordsman that still had an ear in his direction. He wouldn't be so intolerable if he would take off those ending titles. Fingers hanging at his side curled, and before he could put the other in his place the morbidly silken baritone came up.

"I'm done with you. There is no need to fret." The conversation had lost its flare a while ago, and so he was resigning himself once more to privacy. Anti-social much?

"Huh?" Brilliant, Leingod. He was going to need more intelligent answers than this if he was going to survive maintaining this caged animal.

His head shook as his full attention went back for the window, a hand going to his clothed hip. "I won't tell that foolish woman you were spying."

...This was how it was going to be. It was how Albel did things. A notch of realization dropped narrow shoulders as he stared to the ruthless man. Perhaps this was the beginning of a friendship, now that he didn't have a reputation to uphold?

Sheepishly Fayt made a 'thank you' on his lips that didn't gain the air it needed. Noticing the gap in their exchange, Nox looked back over his shoulder, beginning to turn back for him. "Thanks," came the successful second attempt, but lighter boots continued for him. Comprehension was in short supply, retreating steps eventually planting him against what he could achingly distinguish on his spine being half wall and half door.

Feral claret hues didn't drift from him, even in the last inches that separated mangled midnight russet and strange ochre from domesticated azure. Fayt had never experienced the true intimidation the other held in his slight frame until now. The first time they had crossed he had been naive, didn't know exactly what to do with being full of adrenaline to rescue Nel from a vile second-in-command. Maybe Cliff was right, that he was so sheltered for being raised in the safety of the Sol sector.*

"...?" Fidgeting against the obtuse door frame cramming in to his shoulder blade, scraping for every spare millimetre he could between them and keep it there.

"You really must be from another planet," he concluded in a thoughtful murmur, the inches separating their height felt in all their imposing glory upon the teen. "But on any world, that is a very improper form of gratitude for someone willing to watch your back instead of planting a knife in it."

It was informal he had to admit, ears growing warm with half-warranted humility. The reaction only spurred the maniac onward, emerald hues doing their best to glare at unmoved Elicoorian spirals instead of registering his other senses. "I guess." Uneasy didn't begin to describe it. He could feel his stomach burbling with stress. If he faltered now, though, he had the distinct impression he wouldn't be walking out of here with his spine intact. "But it'll help you believe us right?"

It was pure will that kept his other senses from acknowledging the Black Captain. Like how, despite how frigid Albel was with the entire group, his pale skin was much warmer with less fabric to impede it. Growing up in the cold must trigger a person to be a walking furnace. Or maybe Fayt was only choking on his own anxious blood? He didn't smell copper to indicate a nosebleed, but he could distinguish the aroma that he was learning was distinctly a killer's, if it belonged to Albel. He smelled like a mix between pungent minted vanilla and... something akin to smoldered cedar. No, not wood... Brows knitted with scrounging for a proper word; this was going to bug him for days.

"I said I'm done with you, maggot, or do your ears only sit there and look pretty on that obnoxious face of yours?"

He had to bet an annoyed Albel was easier to fend off than an amused one, swallowing thickly. The fact the boy had held out this far, in the warrior's mind, said something to what potential he had. Perhaps with that much nerve he could get the Marquis to listen to their reckless demands.

At this point though, Fayt was equally flustered for being yanked about on the rickety truce they bore for this mission. His inner mind could swear the other man abused their forced relationship to the fullest on purpose. "I heard you. --" Not even a chance to finish retorting.

"Then you are merely stupid and not listening." That was as much a warning as the human was going to get he realized, once the support of the door abandoned him and sent him tumbling out of the swordsman's quarters.

A sound slam was his recitation of farewell, hands in their blue gloves straining to keep him upright on the bright scarlet rug. What was thatabout? Holy Apris did he need a cold shower...

How humiliating.

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"Puts the male species to shame I say." Cliff took another apple wine shooter while Nel readied her own small bowl. "He could at least wear some pants. How can you take him seriously?"

Eyes calm as the sunny woods and just as verdant went for him between magenta strands. Cliff had a thing for redheads.

He knew no one in the universe that could resist a good redhead.

"You may not believe it, but I had never seen him before you guys showed up." She took a sip of her own shooter. A blond hand shot out to tip it up the rest of the way with a knuckle leaving the ninja woman to squeak with surprise. Coughing and wiping her chin she glared to him. "What?!"

"That's not how you play the game," he chuckled, indicating his own empty disk. It was the smallest thing they had to a 'shot', and that meant it was a sake saucer. "You're supposed to drink all of it, in one gulp."

"This drink isn't meant to be taken like that. It's meant to be savored." The last while had been spent explaining about the game, but she had only now accepted the challenge of drinking him under the table.

Honestly, he should have felt more pity for her than he did. But if he couldn't take advantage of a beautiful - stunningly sloshed - woman, then there was something entirely wrong with him. And if that was the case, he was going to need to develop a lot more reasons to hate certain people.

Judging from how Albel hissed and spat as frequently as a five-week kitten, it wouldn't take too long to sabotage the Klausian's crush. "Yeah, well... Hey, where did you get this stuff anyway?" A brow hiked to the white saucer, raising it up to lick the last tasty molecules off the drying glass. "Seems too... nice, for a place like this."

Proudly the woman smiled, eyes pulling shut lest she give away her smugness too soon with being read. "I have my ways."

Being blond, and trying so hard to think simple thoughts, he had his foot in his mouth sooner than he expected. "Isn't anything like what Albel was drinking."

"When?" Mature eyes blinked at him in bewilderment. "I didn't know he was old enough to drink."

That got a short laugh out of the Klausian, smiling to the small serving dish before he proposed it to the woman that gingerly filled it again. Almost ritually, he noted. "Yeah. Walter calling him 'boy' didn't help either. He's not a very good loser is he?"

"That's no reason for him to delay taking us to the Lava Caves. I can only assume he's been there before." Suddenly the conversation had become all business, which she didn't mind at all. But business the likes of the Twisted was not meant to be shared over a drink as sweet as this, deciding to indulge in the atmosphere the likes of a bar usually entailed. "I don't mind him wearing a skirt."

This was the second time someone had deliberately said something to make him choke on a drink in as many days, a fact he wasn't finding very pleasant. Drying his mouth on his knuckles he glowered over to the woman that smiled so coyly. She had won, and knew it.

It wasn't good for an attractive woman to be smug with you. He had a weakness for confidence.

"Well?" Waiting for him to challenge. "I don't. Or were you mistaking the Crimson Blades for a bunch of nuns?" Her cheek settled in a fist, falling in to the topic easily enough with a smile painting her lips.

"Heh, I guess not." But as far as he knew, the ninja wasn't seeing anyone. That meant he had a shot? Tempting. Very tempting. ...But now that the pictures of a rather elegant - though infuriating - young man--boy--were stuck in his aching head. Yeah yeah, he'd sleep. As soon as he finished this...

"Though, technically it's a waist cape," came offhandedly from her, releasing a shrug.

The blond snorted to his saucer, taking his first almost immeasurable sip. It really was better that way, tasting the diligence and care that had gone in to stewing the healthy fruit. "I don't care what it is. It's not..."

"Manly? That sounds rather oafish." She shrugged then, taking her chance for what Cliff knew was an inescapable insult. "Or maybe you're intimidated by the fact he's prettier than you?"

He gaped. "Not a chance!! He may be pretty, but I don't see what made you fear him so much!" After a thoughtful toss of thick fingers in gilt strands he was smirking. The guy was creepy, hands down. That didn't mean the whole continent should feel puny at hearing his name. There was a lot in the galaxy he could stand, but instilling tyrannical fear in to good people wasn't on his list. Tyrannical fear in a skirt wasn't any better.

Thinking on that, she picked her words carefully. "...He's the son of Glou Nox. He was, like Count Walter, a very strong and capable man. Noble, loyal..." Eyes shined with memory, closing them before Cliff could pass his sympathies. "It was a shame he was our enemy. Even my father gave him very serious regard."

"Well if he was such a great guy, why is his son such a..." What was the word...? "...spoiled sport? I seriously thought he killed himself ever since we pounded him outside the mines." ...With eyes shut, his own speech delivered a potent series of snapshots he hadn't needed. If this kept up he wouldn't sleep no matter how badly he wanted to.

From what he had seen of the wild swordsman, between his drinking, fighting - and terrorizing the axed rats of the countryside, he had made it key on his list of knowings that Albel never did anything soft. By all means, a warrior like Cliff preferred his play soft for all the hard work he did - but... The Elicoorian, in himself, looked terribly delicate.

Unstable was more the word. What he lacked in size, again like any cat, he made up for in sheer ferocity. In his own species, the blond had never seen a more venomous youth. He always seemed ready to break, and seeing him fettered in the Airyglyph dungeons the other day didn't help. Absolutely, Albel was more trouble than he was worth.

That didn't change the fact he was still having wonderful flashes of a figure in weary violet. ...Well, considerably less than that, but vital details were still missing. For now.

"...said that he killed his father," was all Cliff heard when azure orbs flew open.

"He what?!"

It didn't sound that horribly special coming out of her. But the idea the scrawny likes of Albel could lay waste to a man that important in Airyglyph and not regret it...?

"Glou Nox was the leader of the Dragon Brigade up until he was murdered. After that, Duke Vox took command of the division." Maybe that's why that war monger had spared Albel for so long. He -owed- him one?

Cliff could only sit there and gawk at her, the saucer perched on his fingers as the woman across from him dwelled in her own silence. She could never imagine what it would be like, casting one's own father in to the next world. How heartless one had to be...

"...You agreed he was pretty." Masters of stealth and secrets always had their ways of hanging a person with their own words.

Were Cliff as dumb as he pretended to be, his cover in their... spirited state would have been less convincing. "Pretty damn nuts." He was going to need serious revision of his ideals about the disreputed captain apparently. Patricide was practically unheard of in the more developed regions of space.

Fingers perched the saucer and extended it to her so she could again refill it. He had a crush on a murderer.

Cliff definitely wasn't getting any sleep tonight.

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Note 1: This is a PA you can do after you've overheard Nel in the Kirlsa cemetery, but before you go to rescue her. Cliff talks to Fayt in Aiyglyph first about Mirage, and then Fayt's upbringing in the Federation's lies.

Note 2: In the Japanese, it’s Walter.