This is a story that came to my head whilst PM-ing Sita. As I am afraid to admit, I have a little WB with my more serious and on going story. This I hope will be a nice light and funny one and enable me to return to my other story as soon as possible. Enjoy folks.

THE GIFT

"You asked to see me, my lord?"

Larsa looked up from his desk and endless paper work and saw the Judge standing to attention just mere inches from him. He was startled, for he hadn't heard the door open. He certainly didn't hear the big metal clunk of his boots on the floor. The floor….how was it that Basch never made a scratch on this wood polished surface? How was it that Basch kept appearing out of no-where?

"Erm….when did I…?" Larsa pointed at the door with a puzzled frown.

"I knocked for quite a while. When I got no reply I became concerned." Basch clasped his hands in front of him. "There was no need. You were simply wrapped up in your work."

"It gets more every day." Larsa shoved the papers aside, a little too harshly as they fell off the edge. "But I've remembered why I called you here! Are you looking forward to it?"

"My lord?" There was a clang of metal as his head moved. Larsa sighed.

"Today is important…is it not?"

Clang. Basch moved his head again in confusion.

"Not that I recall, my lord. I have a few errands to run, some paper work of my own and inspections of the new recruits are….."

"Basch…aren't you forgetting something?"

Clang. Clang. The armour, unlike before when he didn't hear it, was now becoming an irritating sound. Larsa steepled his fingers together and forced a smile.

"We had talked about this day…."

Clang. Clang. Clunk. (clunk?) Larsa saw that Basch had shifted nervously on his feet, but still the floor shined perfectly. How did he manage it?!

"It's your holiday." Larsa continued. "You have been over worked and we both agreed…."

"You actually ordered me, sir."

"Very well…I ordered you to take some time off. I even suggested this day and the rest of the week and I would have thought you would be out of that armour and in some more civilized and plain clothes."

"These are my civilized clothes."

Clang. Clang.

"Something that doesn't make a noise."

"Ah. I shall change as soon as I get back to my quarters."

Thank the gods. Larsa could feel a headache coming on. Was it because of the endless demands from the politicians, the constant stress and strain he was put under? The armour of the Judges had never gotten to him before, so why did those little clangs berate him so?

"Have you thought of what you were going to do on your holiday?" Larsa allowed a more sincere smile to form on his mouth. He even stood up and walked round to the front of the desk and as he did so his heel scraped along the floor. The mark was a sore sight to see. (Dammit!)

"Not really, Lord." Basch replied. "I thought that I might take a trip out to the Tchita Uplands, hone my sword skills, spend some time alone camping under the stars…."

Alone? Really?

"Erm…you want to spend your holiday on your own?"

"I tend to spend most of my holidays on my own. Does that trouble you my lord?"

"Not at all…I was thinking you might actually enjoy a nice shopping trip. Rabanastre has a wonderful range of fine shops…."

Clang clang, clunk….screech. That was the sound of discomfort from Basch's armour. Larsa already imagined the look of horror on the older man's face. Shopping was not for him.

"Tell me Basch…" Larsa decided to be a little more direct. "How long has it been since you've been to Rabanastre…or to be even more precise, how long has it been since you walked the palace corridors?"

Screech…Screechy…Screech. (Basch was very uncomfortable.)

"Erm…it has been a while, my lord." came his muffled voice.

"How long, Judge?"

His throat was cleared. Judge….Larsa hardly ever called him that.

"That would be four years, seven months, two weeks, two days, nine hours, thirty five minutes, and forty three seconds since I have been in Rabanastre's royal palace."

He remembered the time exactly? Larsa smiled. For Basch to be so precise was a clear cut sign that he missed Dalmasca, he missed Rabanastre and more importantly the Queen. Larsa had seen Ashe a few times in the past month, but Basch had made himself elusive all the time. His absence during the Queen's visits had disheartened her.

"You are aware it is Asheila's birthday in a couple of days?"

Screechy.

"I am aware. I have sent her a card already."

The card. The same birthday card he sent every year. It was a plain white card with gold Happy Birthday written on the front and "From Basch." inside. He would slip in a note, telling the Queen of how he was and what he had been up to. The note would be extremely formal and blathered on about training, day to day duties and immensely boring trivia that Ashe would never like. It seemed as if Basch made himself sound so boring on purpose. Through fear of revealing how much he missed her?

"Just a card will not do." Larsa hated the thought of Ashe having to open a card exactly the same as all the others. "Why don't you go to Rabanastre and get her a present? Something nice, thoughtful and meaningful. Tell her you care….rather than bore her to death."

"I….I cannot, lord." Basch bowed his head, the helm surprisingly didn't made a single sound. "I am not…I don't know…what if she doesn't like it?"

As opposed to the cards he sends? This man was in more trouble than Larsa thought.

"Get some help…Penelo has expressed her wishes to see you in her own letters…I'm sure she could assist you."

"Will you be seeing the Queen on her birthday?"

"Of course, but I do have to finish off here first. Go and pack, Judge Basch. That is an order."

Clang.

"Aye…my lord….and thank you."

If Basch had been like a ghost when he entered, stealthy and silent in his steps, he certainly wasn't when he left. His body must have been so tense and worried, that every possible sheath of metal that made up his armour groaned and scraped together with ear piercing drones. Larsa was so glad when the door shut, his ears were still throbbing but he was pleased. (Still the floor was unscathed by the metal boots. It was a mystery to Larsa.)

He returned to the chair behind his desk and took a clean sheet of paper from one of the drawers. He then began to write.

Dearest Penelo,

It took some convincing, but he is going. Why don't you meet him at the aerodrome? Warning, he doesn't like the idea of it, so I would curb your enthusiasm a little. Hope this letter sees you well and that your excursion with Basch will be a success. Though don't take Vaan, or Balthier for that matter. Their contributions to the Queen's birthday presents on previous years, were only slightly better than Basch's card. Though Fran would be a great aid.

I look forward to seeing you at the party.

As ever, yours faithfully,

Larsa.

NEXT: Shopping with Penelo.