A/N: Very words. Such long. Many text. Honestly this chapter gave me a brain hemorrhage; I accidentally deleted it off of my email and had to contact my provider to get it back. DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW AWKWARD IT WAS TO ASK FOR "The one labeled 'Tainting the Pastor's Daughter' 3"? e_o

Sigh…anyway. Enjoy this bit of fluff while it lasts. *subtle hints towards angsty-ness in middle chapters*

This chapter gets a little kinky near the end, you have been warned! ;D

Final Fantasy XIII is the property of Sqare Enix. I own nothing besides the ideas of my own mind.

.

.

.

Thurdsay, March 6, 1953

Claire's breathing was slow and light. Her facial features were kept consistently calm and unreadable, though reverent and attentive. She sat as straight as a rod, one leg tucked under the other at the ankle, her thighs pressing together tightly. She held cup of sultry tea just a few inches above her lap, a diminutive porcelain plate just under it.

The pinkette was the epitome of a proper lady.

…The elder woman thwacked her atop her head with a rolled magazine. "No, no!"

Claire was dumbfounded.

.

.

The day before

The Farron family sat at their table, food set on the white linen cloth atop the dark wood.

Hands joined in a small circle of four; their heads bowed as Braen Farron respectfully took his place as leader for their meal prayer, Grace.

"Bless, O Lord, this food to our use and us to thy service, and keep us ever mindful of the needs of others. In Jesus' name, Amen." The father nodded to finalize the prayer, then turned to his wife, whose hand was still in his, and gave it a small squeeze.

Alina turned to her husband, giving him a small smile before the other three gave a coinciding 'Amen', and dropped hands.

They ate; small every-day talk between bites of the roasted chicken. Serah grinned as her mother asked her questions about her internship at the elementary school, asking her if the children were behaving responsibly, and quite generally how she was doing.

"You're explaining all of the scripture correctly, of course." Braen raised her brow towards his youngest daughter, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes daddy, of course. The children really seem to love Bible studies section of class." Serah shook her head lightly, and then giggled. "The children have me repeat the ones they're most fond of every day."

Braen nodded in approval. "It's good that they wish to learn more of their God. You are doing a wonderful job, Serah."

The youngest pinkette smiled at her father. Alina patted Serah's hand with her own. "When you marry, you'll have your own little ones to look after."

Braen nodded again. "And teach them as well."

Serah's eyes shone, seeming to be anticipating the future in them.

Claire kept silent during the exchanges, and more so when her parents were discussing children. She had to mentally remind herself not to bend the fork she was holding. The pinkette released her grip slightly. She didn't like the idea of Serah going off with some fool, getting married and having kids.

Leaving Claire alone…

Claire herself had no desire for children. They were loud, needy and annoying. Though, she knew she had no choice in the matter. A grown woman that did not bear children, (with the exception of those who simply couldn't), was considered licentious in their town.

And with whom would she have children, having driven away every suitor that came her way?

Her mother's voice prevented her from sinking deeper into her detrimental thoughts.

"Claire, your father and I have been discussing some things." Alina addressed her eldest daughter before giving a quick glance towards her husband.

Claire's mood darkened. She knew that whatever they had been discussing was likely about her. Her pale cerulean eyes stared at an invisible dot on the dining table. She didn't need anyone worrying about her. She was perfectly content with the way she was… right?

Claire hadn't even registered the fact that her parents were still talking to her.

"-so we thought it was best for you to have a job."

Claire's head snapped up, and she blinked, shaking her head. "Wait, what?"

Alina seemed to be anticipating this response from her daughter, and smiled gently. "We've spoken to Ms. Sewik. And she agreed to have you interviewed." Alina sighed. "We just think you seem a little lost, darling. This will be good for you; you can concentrate on something else other than going off into your own little world."

Claire looked down. Ms. Sewik was the owner of most of the stores in their town. The elderly lady was usually quite sweet, and everyone saw her as the grandmother of all the townsfolk. Though, she had been widowed for quite some time-and could be quite batty. Claire had spoken with the woman quite a few times whilst shopping for groceries. In a word, Ms. Sewik was…eccentric. But, very nice.

…Did Claire really go off into her own world that often?

The pinkette prided herself in being concentrated and determined, focusing on her own outward goals with relentless initiative assault. What she had failed to realize though, that upon focusing all of herself on her external goals, she had let her subconscious wander heavily in her internal conflicts. And it had begun to show.

She then found that the only answer was to eliminate her mistake before it could grow. If she rejected her parent's proposal, the action would only further them in their suspicions. So instead, she gave an inch of a nod.

Her mother's brows shot up. Though surprised her daughter would accept the change, she was genuinely overcome with happiness at the confirmation. "That's wonderful darling! Ms. Sewik will have you go over to meet her tomorrow in the afternoon."

Braen nodded approvingly. "Good, smart desiccation Claire. A little work would set you back in the path of humility towards God." He smiled. "As long as it isn't too strenuous, of course."

Claire didn't respond, but the envelope had already been sealed. What would become if it however, she never would have expected.

.

.

The day after

The snow haired woman shook a wrinkled finger at the young lady sitting on the loveseat. "You're too stiff, too proper!" the woman set down the magazine she had used as a corrector. And without even bothering to ask, the elder woman gripped Claire's clothed upper arm, constricting it tightly. "Hm. Yes, you have quite a built. You'll do fine with cumbersomely hefty labor."

Claire reddened marginally, not quite sure whether to take the words as a compliment, or an insult towards her femininity. Ms. Sewik's next words made the pinkette go even redder.

"How's a little young lady like yourself achieve such a build?" Ms. Sewik raised a grey brow in amusement at the young woman.

Claire couldn't bring herself to immediately respond. The pinkette knew precisely how she had achieved her carefully toned build, but never in her right mind would she reveal that to anyone. Not if she wanted to keep her image of a socially correct exemplary woman. So, she decided to go with metabolism. It was the best choice. "It's genetic."

The lie didn't sting the pinkette. Claire's mother, in fact, was exceptionally fit, and this was naturally. And quite honestly, Claire was habituated to being mendacious. She felt as though she had to lie about everything. How she was feeling, how she was doing, and how she was being treated. Her answers were always lies. She had become numb to them now; they didn't hurt her.

…Though, she refused to believe that they actually could.

Ms. Sewik seemed to suspect against the pinkette's words, but didn't press further. "I see. Well, much of the work should be easy for you then." She nodded sweetly. "So, what can you do?"

Claire scanned the floor for a few seconds, before deciding on the more conventional approach. "I learn quickly. I read books often so I'm able to retain a lot of information, and tallying currency shouldn't be a problem-"

"And how are you with people?" Ms. Sewik gave a sweet laugh, politely cutting off the pinkette, who gave her a curious expression.

"I-"the young woman frowned. What did social communication have to with grocery? Didn't you just tally the items given, take the given currency, and then give back the appropriate amount? The questions running through her head were about to be spoken, but the elder woman beat her to it.

"Are you able to make the customer's experience more enjoyable? And assist them with any questions they might have?"

Claire opened her mouth to answer, knowing that it would bubble up in her throat as another lie. But, she chose against her instinct much to her own surprise. "I…I don't talk much. People tend to avoid me once I talk to them." The answer was given in a low, hushed tone, though the pinkette tried to keep her dignity by swallowing hard at the truth.

Ms. Sewik, (much to Claire's surprise) smiled down at her. "Well, that's nothing a little work won't fix! Once you get the hang of things, talking to customers will be second nature in no time."

The pinkette blinked. She doubted that she would ever become comfortable with trusting others, but with the honest, motherly tone of the elder woman's words, Claire felt strangely reassured. She gave a small nod.

Ms. Sewik adjusted her large, pointed edged reading glasses on her nose before jumping slightly, making Claire's brows raise. "Oh dear, I forgot to turn off the stove! The tea must be boiling like a fountain by now…" the elderly lady mumbled as she scurried off towards another brightly colored room.

Claire shook her head fondly after the elderly woman. Ms. Sewik definitely was a bit of an oddball, but the pinkette believed it was part of the reason everyone loved her. Claire took a small sip of her tea before scrunching her nose at the bitter taste; Ms. Sewik had most likely added some…interestingly unfamiliar herbs to the drink. The pinkette politely set the cup, along with its plate companion, onto the white-wooded coffee table in front of her.

A few minutes later, Ms. Sewik had returned, along with an assortment of Whoopie Pies on a small TV tray.

The two chatted for quite some time.

Claire felt quite at ease. It had been a while since she had had a conversation that didn't feel forced or aggravating to contribute towards. They spoke about the most trivial things, but even those seemed to be enjoyable. For once, the pinkette was, dare she say it, having a good time.

Ms. Sewik had just finished telling Claire one of her favorite childhood stories, when she smiled kindly at the pinkette, who tilted her head slightly at the elder woman.

"So, Claire dear. Now that you've managed to loosen up a bit," Ms. Sewik seemed to be searching for the right words to approach the situation. "Why don't you tell me how you've really been doing?"

Claire seemed a bit boggled by the question, and she opened her mouth and closed it repeatedly. Could the woman see right through her carefully built armor? One she had years perfecting; making sure it was impenetrable? The pinkette couldn't believe it. "I'm alright…" though her response, she knew, was not convincing in the slightest.

And the elderly woman's expression confirmed that. Ms. Sewik shook her head gently, smiling and placing a hand on the younger woman's knee. "There's no need for that. I can see it in those sad little eyes of yours, sweetheart. You're hurting, but you don't give it away." The elderly woman's sad smile make the gentle wrinkles in her face deepen. "That's alright if you don't want to talk about it now. But don't let it keep you quiet, either. Lies only make the truth more painful."

Claire stared down at her lap. The woman's kind words rung true and evident. Though, the pinkette was eternally grateful towards the elder woman not pressuring her to divulge anything just yet. She sighed, looking up and nodding softly. "Thank you."

Ms. Sewik only smiled and patted the girl's knee again. She glanced at the neutron wall clock and jumped again. "Oh dear, it's gotten quite late, hasn't it! I should send you home straight away before it gets too dark."

Claire nodded and assisted the elder woman in standing.

Ms. Sewik patted Claire's lower back as she guided her towards the white-wooded front door. "Lovely speaking with you, dearie. There will be a store manager to help you at the shop in the morning."

Claire's steely sky eyes widened in surprise. "I have the job?"

The elderly woman smiled and shook her head. "Yes, yes of course! Now hurry along, you don't want to worry your poor old father too much."

Claire nodded, pride swelling in her chest as she swung open the door and stepped outside. The night was considerably cooler than the day had been. Claire took Ms. Sewik's winkled hand and gave it a gentle shake. "Thank you so much, ma'am."

The elderly woman let out a worn, but warm hearted laugh. "Call me grandma, Claire. Ma'am is much too formal."

Claire almost chuckled back, but nodded instead. "Of course, grandma. Have a good evening."

"And to you, Claire dearie."

Claire nodded again, and stepped off of the porch, taking another step forward, but hesitated. She wrung out her hands, hesitantly turning back towards grandmother.

"Yes, Claire?" Ms. Sewik asked, quite genuinely curious as to why the young lady looked so distraught.

Claire took in a deep breath. What was she doing? She knew she shouldn't be asking these types of questions, but... "Ms. Sewik…do you…do you believe in God?"

Much to the pinkette's surprise, Ms. Sewik didn't look disgusted or offended as Claire thought she would have.

Instead, the elderly woman smiled softly at Claire. "I believe in God." Her gentle hazel eyes turned a bit sad as she spoke again. "But, I don't believe in the people of God."

Claire blinked, registering the answer. What did that mean? But mostly, she was glad that the elderly woman didn't lash out at her for asking such a thing. Before the pinkette could press further, Ms. Sewik was already waving her goodbye.

Claire nodded and waved back, continuing her small walk home.

Claire stared up as she walked, spotting the first of the night sky begin to break through the bright orange. She had gotten the job. Though her newly acquired grandmother's last few words confused her still, Claire couldn't help but feel a bit of joy.

She felt the corners of her mouth threaten to pull upwards. And for the first time, she let them.

But not that much of course.

.

.

Friday, March 7, 1953

Morning

Today would mark Claire's first day at work. And thus, awoke exceptionally early.

Clad in tan professional slacks and a puffy long-sleeved blouse, her pink locks were pulled back into a loose bun at her neck, her side-bangs softly framing her face, which of course bore no makeup. She trailed downstairs to be immediately greeted by various delicious smells wafting from the small kitchen. She raised a brow, walking over to the small arch that separated their dining room from the kitchen, and if possible, her brows shot up even further.

She realized that Serah had gotten up even earlier to make her elder sister quite a large breakfast. Claire huffed, shaking her head towards Serah's caring actions. The pinkette then noticed a small brown paper, propped up by the way it was folded on the counter top. Claire picked it up, realizing that there was writing in Serah's hand scribbled on it.

'You eat so much, yet you never gain. God truly has blessed you, Claire! Good luck today!'

The older pinkette huffed; she could practically read her sisters sweet laughter in the note. Claire filled with deep warmth at her sister's actions.

Then, she proceeded to stuff her face in the most ladylike fashion.

.

.

Claire adored Ms. Sewik, she truly did, but sometimes, things could really fly over her gray little head.

Claire had arrived on her first day of work, only to be told that the shop wasn't open on Fridays.

After a little persuasion towards Gregory, (the somewhat rude manager of the store), Claire had been allowed inside and given the basic run-through of the procedures, as well as a small, green, grocer apron that served as her uniform over her clothing.

Of course, as soon as things were explained, Claire memorized them immediately. Her instructions were perfectly clear cut, and ultimately quite simple; tend to the customer as well as the store.

Gregory had said he was going to the back to 'take inventory', (at least, that is what Claire had assumed when he left her at the register for nearly an hour) so Claire was fiddling with some of the many buttons on the money-holding contraption when she heard a few thumps coming from the side of the store.

She raised a brow and turned her attention away from her fiddling… to lock eyes with a tan, jade-eyed woman who had tapped on one of the large store windows with a knuckle.

Claire blinked rapidly, genuinely surprised to see the familiar woman. Then pinkette opened her mouth to speak, only to realize that the other woman would not hear her form inside the store. Claire motioned her head towards the front door, to which Fang nodded and began strolling to the front.

Claire nodded back and brought her hands down from her pink hair. Wait, had she just adjusted the bun at her neck? Why on earth had she done that? She shook her head lightly, and then joined Fang at the front entrance.

The pinkette opened the glass door partially, just enough so she could stick her head through to talk to the brunette, fully aware of the 'CLOSED' sign on said door. "Hello, Miss Oerba-Yun. I'm sorry, but we're not open today."

Fang raised an amused brow at the slightly shorter pinkette. "So you work here?"

Claire nodded, reaching up to tuck a lock of her hair behind her own ear. 'Dammit, I just subconsciously fixed my hair again!' "Just started, actually."

Fang grinned, and Claire frowned.

"'That so? Hm. I didn't think the princess raised a finger." Fang placed her hands on her hips and smirked.

Claire's frown only deepened. She adjusted her dark green apron, (which paled in comparison to the radiant emeralds that looked down at her) and the steel returned to her misty blue eyes. "And what is that supposed to imply, Miss Oerba-Yun?"

Fang crossed her arms over her chest and she scoffed lightly. "You know damn well what it implies, Miss Farron."

Claire felt a slowly brewing anger in the pit of her chest. Who did this woman think she was? Did Fang just come here to insult her, then have the nerve to avoid it? Claire found herself quite agitated. "Well if you're quite finished with your petty insults, I'll ask you to leave now."

The brunette scoffed again. "Look, I just need something for one of my dogs, I won't be long." Fang grabbed at the door to open it further, but Claire kept an unimaginably firm grip.

The pinkette's eyes narrowed even more up at Fang. "We're closed. You can't go in without permission."

Fang's eyes then shone with mischief, much to Claire's discontent. She leaned in towards the surprised pinkette, giving only an inch of space between their faces as she stared into those gorgeous cerulean orbs. Fang smiled, (thoroughly giving Claire mood-whiplash) and spoke gently to the other woman. "Well then, how about you give me permission?"

Claire's eyes widened a fraction, finding it increasingly difficult to breath with the close proximity. In an effort to save her dignity if nothing else, she stepped back from the woman and scowled.

When Fang noticed the dust of a natural blush on Farron's cheeks, the brunette grinned in victory.

Claire gritted her teeth as she spoke. "Fine, just hurry up." The pinkette glared at the taller woman as she strolled in cockily. "Or I'll throw you out- I swear it, Oerba-Yun."

Fang nodded slowly in acknowledgement towards the threat, then slid her hands in her trouser pockets, (something she seemed to do often, Claire observed), and strode over to one of the back isles.

Claire crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head away from the woman, not wanting to appear nosy. Instead, she strode over to the register on the counter, and again attempted to figure out the mechanics of the appliance.

A few minutes later, Claire looked up to see Fang walking over to her, one hand in the deep pocket of her trousers and the other holding a small white box, which she placed on the store counter next to the cash register.

Claire frowned and picked up the box, though when she read the label, she found it hard to swallow. Though, she remembered that what customers bought was none of her concern. In an attempt to keep her mouth shut, she simply punched in the price and held her hand out for the money, to which Fang gave her.

Though, the thought was nagging at her mind. She knew it would be impolite to ask about something that was none of her business, but…Finally, she couldn't restrain herself anymore. "T-16?" she spoke softly, not daring to look up as she pulled out the appropriate amount of change.

Fang nodded, keeping her gaze on the little white box. "One of the mutt's got a lump on her leg the size of a baseball, the poor girl." The brunette shrugged. "Figured it was the best way to do it."

Claire couldn't bring herself to say anything else on the matter. She placed the box in a brown bag and handed it to Fang gently.

Fang nodded in appreciation and turned to leave, but stopped. She ran a hand through her dark tresses and cleared her throat.

Claire raised a brow as she observed the woman. Fang almost appeared to be…nervous?

Fang tugged at her blouse collar and didn't look at the pinkette as she spoke. "So, Claire, about the teaching thing…I w-was thinking maybe we could-"

"Why in the Lord's name have you got an unauthorized personal in here, Farron?" Gregory's high pitched voice cut off Fang's lovey accented one.

Claire almost face-palmed. She should have known that Gregory would still be watching her, the slimy little-

"Sorry kid, just had ta' grab something-", Fang tried, motioning to the brown bag in her hand, but Gregory would have none of it. His ginger locks nearly blazed with his anger.

"Out! This is no place for pedestrians!" Gregory took the initiative to spin Fang around and begin to push her towards the door.

"But I'm not on a street-" Fang let herself be turned and felt a gentle pushing at her back. She turned her head around slightly to see the red-headed boy turning the same shade as his hair in his effort to push her.

Fang shrugged and turned her head back around to Claire, who seemed to be halfway between shock and amusement at the boy's feeble attempts to get her out the door. "So, thanks for lettin' me in. I'll see you later, then…?" Fang smiled at the pinkette, who scoffed but nodded back.

Fang's smile widened and she turned her torso to pat the boy's head. Truth be told, the boy had to be at least twenty five, making him more of a man, but he was indeed lacking in the strength branch. Either that, or Fang was simply ridiculously strong.

Which, of course, she was.

With a small wave towards Claire, she stepped forward and strode out of the glass doors, hearing an audible 'thump' as the ginger man hit the floor in her wake. Fang laughed heartily as she left.

Claire had to physically cover her mouth to stifle any sounds at Gregory's humiliating expense.

.

.

Saturday, March 8, 1953

Claire, not surprisingly, was doing exceptionally well on her first 'real' working day. Though she had been thoroughly lectured by Gregory before the event about the 'dangers of hypnosis and temptation' by customers, Claire was to assist the customers in whatever they required of her. Though the pinkette spoke little to her customers, she treated them with the utmost respect and courtesy.

Some of the time however, when she sensed that they were hesitant to come forward and request assistance, she would go to them instead. The customers seemed to greatly appreciate that as well. It seemed that other people can be just as unused to social interaction as she was, and the thought was somewhat comforting.

Claire approached a young lady who seemed to be attempting to focus on a can label. The blonde girl wore glasses, and it didn't seem like they were helping much as she stared at the metal can.

Claire did her best as to not to scare the girl as she approached her, but it appeared not to have worked when she tapped the young woman lightly on the shoulder. The blonde jumped, dropping the can and splatting its contents, Sugary Sam's canned sweet potatoes, onto the store's checkered tiled floor.

The blonde woman screeched, bending down to pick up the can in an attempt to pick up some of the potato chunks. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry! Oh goodness I'm such a klutz."

Claire raised her hands in acknowledgement and shook her head. "Really it's no problem. It was an accident." She brought out a damp towel from her green apron and began wiping up the spilled contents off the floor.

The blonde blushed thoroughly. "Honestly it was my fault. Oh goodness, my clumsiness; making a pretty girl like you have to clean up after me!"

Claire raised a brow at the compliment but shook her head, finishing up the last of the mess. "Honestly, it's no big deal. I work here, so it's my job to handle this stuff." She gave as best a reassuring look as she could muster towards the young woman.

The blonde sighed, and shook her head. "Well, that makes me feel a little better." She smiled up at the pinkette and held out a small hand. "My name's Christa, by the way. "

Claire nodded, and shook the hand offered to her. "Claire. Claire Farron."

Christa's bright blue eyes widened in surprise, and what looked like awe. "Oh, you're the pastor's daughter, right?"

The pinkette nodded, a small frown tainting her features. "Yes, I am, along with my sister of course." Claire stared at the blonde for a while, pondering why she'd never seen the girl before. Everyone was pretty much acquainted in their town in one way or another, (by that meaning whether it be good or badly) so she must be from another city. "You're not from here, are you? Forgive me, it's just that I've never-"

"I just moved here, actually!" Christa beamed. "With my two older brothers and my mother."

The pinkette nodded, knowing that something must have happened with the father, but of course did not pry. That was none of her business.

But, just as she was about to continue conversation, something strong and heated- radiating constricted around her waist and press into her back.

Claire stiffened and it took all her willpower not to scream in pure anger as she heard a feminine, low toned, accented voice ring in her right ear and make shivers unwillingly roll up and down her spine.

"Hey, love. Just coming to check up on ya'."

Claire's eyes were still narrowed in anger when she heard Christa giggle and saw her give a dismissing wave.

"Well, thanks for the help. I'll let you and your girlfriend be alone." Christa grinned and skipped off, not before grabbing another can of sweet potatoes first.

It wasn't possible for Claire to turn a brighter shade of red.

After coming out of her trance of initial shock, she ripped out of Fang's embrace with a little effort, and screamed her words out to the heavens in a fit of pure rage. "SHE'S NOT MY GIRLF- mmmpph!" a hand, most likely Fang's, clamped over her mouth before she could continue.

Fang kept her hand firmly over the shorter woman's mouth as she dragged her backwards, towards a more secluded isle and out of the line of sight of any curious bystanders. "Shhh!" Fang half whispered in the pinkette's ear. "You know how this town is. Any sorta' gossip'll go around like a breathable plague. Best keep it down, yeah?"

Claire growled and turned back around towards the taller woman when the brunette let her go. Claire wiped her mouth with her hand and glared at Fang.

How dare the little blonde woman associate her with something so...completely and utterly vile?! Homosexuals were utter miscreants, not fit to bask in the light of the Lord! Claire balled her fists, internally (and possibly externally); she brewed with a conflict she had never felt before. She knew she should feel disgusted, repulsed, and completely shocked at the notion…but strangely; despite her own thoughts…she felt none of those.

And the realization of this frightened her.

So, as a natural defense against this fear, she opted to ignore it. The pinkette shifted her ferocious gaze towards the ground again, keeping it locked there as she spoke. "Whatever. I need to return to my work." She turned, and without another glance at the brunette behind her, strode back to the front of the grocery store.

.

.

Sunday, March 9, 1953

The day Claire secretly dreaded every week was here yet again.

One of the downsides to her new occupation as grocer assistant was the odd time schedule. Her work day begun at six, so she woke at five. This was a bit strange considering that some of the townsfolk attended the six o'clock church seminar. Claire had attempted to explain that beginning the work day at a time when no one would come shopping was a bit unproductive, Gregory insisted that there would eventually be customers that came to the shop at that time, one day or another.

Claire simply sighed at this; knowing arguing further would get her nowhere, and likely cause the jeopardization of her job. So, she left it at that. Claire herself more than often preferred the eight o' clock session at her father's church. It was much livelier without the elders present and in control, and her father loved to entertain the younger children who are much more awake later in the morning.

Claire was standing behind the register desk, pulling at the ties at the back of her grocer apron and twisting them into a long bow. She sighed when that was finished and smoothed out her Sunday church dress. Once her shift here was finished, she would head over to the Church and meet her family there.

Once she would arrive, she knew the routine; greet everyone, exchange small talk, and sit down on the uncomfortable carpeted church benches for the next two hours, listening to the indoctrinate lectures of her father.

She was loathing the idea.

Claire found herself wandering along the isles, absentmindedly picking up various items and examining them. She set down her most recent item, a red Dr. West's Toothbrush, and found herself in the health isle. Her eyes traced over the various small boxes and pills.

Without thinking, she picked something up that had caught her eye.

In her hand was a small, pink, tin box. Quickie's Condoms.

She shuddered. Clare turned the box over in her hands, examining the pictures drawn on it; a joyous looking woman smiling broadly at her overly-muscled husband. That was how it was supposed to be. Man and a woman, together in holy matrimony.

Claire frowned, turning the box over to the opening tab. Her fingers acted on their own accord, and she pried the little box open. Inside, multiple were little square sealed packages. She picked one out and set the tin down on the shelf.

Claire's scowled curiously at the little package in her hand. She had never had "experience" with the opposite sex, and quite frankly…she began to doubt if she ever would. Without marriage, for a Catholic, there was no intercourse. She didn't think she minded, honestly. She had never felt those kinds of urges for the opposite sex, so it was fine with her if she kept it that way.

…Was it really that amazing as the married woman had described?

Claire, in her early teenage years, had once overheard some newlywed women discussing their husbands with each other. It sounded like an incredible experience, but…

Claire was still lost in her thoughts as she tore open the small package. Inside was a clear latex circle, with the circumference rolled up, obviously hiding more of the latex. The pinkette pinched the bump on the middle-it was flexible. She tilted her head. 'Now how on earth do men-?'

"Are you planning to use those on someone?" a snicker came from behind.

Claire jumped, dropping the little circle onto the floor. A woman's voice, one that was all too familiar. Claire fumed, reaching down to pick up the condom she had dropped before spinning around to violently stare at the tall brunette. "Oerba-Yun, you damn tosser!"

Fang grinned, and then proceeded to laugh heartily at the pinkette's choice of wording. "Wow, Farron, didn't know what a mouth you had."

Claire threw invisible daggers at the woman's head.

The brunette tsk'ed at the shorter woman. "Honestly, that kind of language is not quite lady-like."

The pinkette huffed, crossing her arms over the chest. But internally, she was thoroughly confused. How did this woman manage to catch her off-guard so often? It bothered not only Claire's nerves, but her pride as well. Fang made her act like a jumpy teenager with a hidden agenda, and Claire absolutely despised this. It was then when Claire realized that she was still holding the latex circle.

Fang of course, had to exploit this little fact. "If you're planning to use that on yourself, I seriously doubt you'll get very far." The brunette grinned when Claire slapped her forearm half-heartedly. "Ow." Fang feigned hurt, rubbing at her arm with a pained expression.

Claire's eyes narrowed. "If you keep teasing me, that will seem like a feather compared to what I'll do."

Fang laughed again, nodding. "Deal." And upon that, the brunette plucked the little circle form Claire's hand. "So what were ya' doin' with this anyway?" Fang grinned mischievously, bracing for the ineluctable impact. "Planning to blow balloons?"

She then doubled over in pain as the inevitable blow to her stomach came.

Fang wheezed out a laugh, clutching at her stomach. "God damn, Farron! You sure got a helluva right hook there!" she coughed.

Claire raised a brow, having already retracted her arm and crossed both over her chest. "Don't forget it." The pinkette scowled when the brunette had the nerve to laugh again, though this time it sounded pained.

"Noted." Fang grinned painfully, and finally stood up, handing the condom back to Claire, who handled it as though it was alien plastic. Fang raised a brow at this. "So, what were you really doin' with it?"

Claire opened her mouth, then closed it slowly. What was she planning to do with it? She gave a light shrug. "Just curious, I guess. I'm an unwed Catholic."

Fang huffed but nodded nonetheless. "Ah, yeah. You guys have rules about that stuff, right?"

Claire nodded, looking curiously up at the brunette again. "So…you really aren't religious?"

Fang seemed a bit caught off guard by the question. She thought for a moment. "It's…complicated." She stayed silent for a moment when Claire didn't say anything after. Deciding to change the subject, Fang took back the condom and pinched it between her fingers .A grin lit her features as she spoke. "So…you wanna learn how ta' use it?"

If Claire would have been drinking water at the moment, it would have been spat all over the floor. But because of the lack of said water, she wasn't sure how she still managed to choke. She made a high pitched sound in the back of her throat, and blinked rapidly.

The brunette watched the shorter woman's internal struggle; Claire had also turned a lovely shade of red. Fang grinned teasingly at the expression, but internally she felt great endearment for the pinkette. A feeling she would most likely never admit to having.

To prevent herself from divulging into further adoration for the other woman, Fang stepped around her and began searching for a particular isle. She could hear Claire follow behind her.

"What…are you looking for?" the pinkette asked.

Fang laughed, and glanced back at the shorter woman's confused expression. "Vegetable section. Know where that is, employee?"

Claire frowned and pointed to the left of where they stood.

They walked over, Claire watched Fang examine the foods, obviously looking for a specific one.

Claire placed her hand on her hip, raising a brow at the brunette's actions. "I don't see what vegetables have to do with…" Claire trailed off when Fang held up a medium-sized cucumber. Then, the realization hit her.

Though she had never engaged in such acts before, Claire wasn't ignorant. She knew what 'it' looked like, and right now, she believed that Fang was going to use that poor harmless vegetable as an example prop. She threw her hands up in the air, and began walking away. "Nope, not going to do this. Nope nope." Claire groaned when Fang pulled her back by her sleeve.

Fang laughed at the pinkette's expense. "Aw come on! It ain't that bad. Plus, don't ya wanna know for later on or somethin'?"

The pinkette looked unsure again, then scoffed at herself, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning. "If there is a later on." She mumbled.

Fang tilted her head at the quiet statement. What did the pinkette mean by that? 'Of course there would be a later on for her! Doesn't she know that she's damn gorgeous!?' Fang scoffed, and shook her head. "Hey, none of that. You're too pretty to frown."

Claire blinked, not looking at the woman, and began to feel quite strange. Though before she could say anything in return, Fang was positioning the cucumber between her own strong thighs to hold it in place while she took the rubber in the other hand. Claire blushed thoroughly at the position of the vegetable on Fang; it looked quite like something else at the moment.

Fang looked up at Claire, and grinned at her expression. "Oi. Mind outta the gutter, Farron. This is for demonstrative purposes only." Fang laughed when the pinkette snorted. The brunette held up the rubber towards Claire for clarification. "You gotta do it from this side, see, with the little nubbin up." Fang placed the rubber on the tip of the cucumber. "And then you just…"

The bell, signaling that someone had entered the store just as Fang began rolling down the latex.

Both women froze for a moment as scuffing footsteps were heard.

Then, Fang thrust the condom-ed cucumber into Claire's unprepared hands. "Your problem, employee!"

"Wha-?!" Claire fumbled with the vegetable as it was given to her. The footsteps were getting closer.

The pinkette, (mostly in a rage towards the brunette) threw the cucumber back into its similar assortment section near them. Then she smoothed out her apron and cleared her throat in preparation for the customer. 'I thought no one ever came in here this early!?'

A cane's tip slapped the ground as an old, greyed man stood in front of the two women. He wore glasses as thick as they come, and was wobbling around slightly due to his hunched spine. Claire knew him to be Mr. Actly, a cranky old geezer who lived on the outskirts of the town. Claire saw him scowl at her and Fang, though it was probably more of a squint due to his wrinkled face.

His voice was cracked, but it boomed. "You there, young man!" the old man was referring to Claire. "Where is your produce isle located?"

Claire cleared her throat again, motioning to the area behind her. "Right over here, sir." The pinkette glanced over at Fang, who seemed to be desperately trying to prevent herself form burst out laughing. Claire slapped the brunette's stomach with the back of her hand in a sharp motion.

"Ow! You sadistic-" Fang attempted to be angry at the pinkette, but was currently trying too hard not to laugh, so the insult became a quite harmless.

They both watched Mr. Actly shuffle towards and around them, to glare at the various vegetables.

Both women went very red in the face as the old man picked up the cucumber they had used as a male member.

He turned to Claire, feeling it in his hand. "Young man! This is a cucumber, correct?"

Claire willed herself to speak despite her pure embarrassment. "Yes, sir. But-"

"Then don't just stand there! Help me to the register for purchase!"

Claire brought her palm to her forhead with a loud smack, and Fang, not being able to contain herself anymore, burst out laughing.

.

.

"That was abashing."

Claire's shift had ended, and Fang had opted to walk her to the church for the afternoon seminar. Claire was rubbing at her temples, trying to calm down her embarrassment for the scene just hours prior.

Fang nodded in agreement, her own hands behind her head as they walked. "Yep. Pretty bad."

Claire sighed, shutting her eyes tightly. Without really bothering to filter her words like normal, she spoke again. "And what's worse, is that I have to sit through another one of these tedious seminars."

Fang raised a brow at this. She stepped in front of the pinkette and walked backwards as they continued. "Whoa ho ho, so the pastor's daughter doesn't enjoy her weekly dose of her savior?" Fang smiled teasingly.

Claire huffed, rolling her uncaring eyes. "Shut up." She shrugged as Fang returned to her place beside her. "I just don't find it as intriguing as I used to."

Fang stayed silent, urging her to go on.

"As a child, I was amazed by all the stories. They fascinated me and, for a time, made me very happy." The pinkette's gaze turned cold. "Now, for some reason, as an adult…I'm beginning to question everything I was ever told."

They reached the church lawn, and Claire crossed over onto the grass. Fang stayed on the pavement in behind her.

The invisible line that separated them.

Claire sighed, looking down at the greenery with disgust. She didn't turn around as she spoke. "…And I haven't the damnedest idea as to why."

Then, she crossed the lawn and into the purgatory she'd once loved.

.

.

.

A/N: *dies from the word count* Why is it that I have my best ideas at three in the morning?

Notes: T-16 is a drug used for putting down animals that are beyond human help. It was experimental in the 50's, but not perfected until the 90's.

All products named in this fic were actual products used during this time period! (Yes, the condom brands as well ;D)

Rubber is another way of saying condom, FYI ^-^By the way, that scene with the cucumber had nothing to do with the actual story besides the fact that Claire was not familiar with intercourse. It was for my personal amusement. (he hee he ehehe.) 3

Remember guys, there is a reason Claire is a bit OOC. I can't reveal the main reason yet! But keep in mind that this is not the Claire that lost both parents and had to care solely for her sister. She's still got Light's personality (because of what Serah said in LR) but her reason for distrust in others isn't because of her parent's deaths.

As always, comments are welcome.