I Think It Likes You

"You want me to do what?"

Lightning had been asked many unusual questions in her former line of work, by tourist and local alike. Even her fellow officers had asked for her help in many a bizarre misadventure. From rescuing lost kittens to disciplining rowdy puppies; from fishing for jewelry in the beach sands to babysitting lifeguards at the shore-front; and from remedying jammed guns to setting injured shoulders back in place, she'd thought that no request could ever throw her off her game. She'd been trained to be ready for anything, both through military drills and the unpredictability of field experience, but this…

"I want you to lasso that chocobo over there so we can get to Oerba faster."

This was the third time she'd made Fang repeat herself, and she couldn't tell if the slow drawl of her voice was growing in annoyance or amusement. Lightning regarded her for a long, long, long moment, considering whether or not this was a Pulsian's idea of a prank. Fang had a poker face that could empty out every casino on the Bodhum boulevard though, and if this was her idea of a joke, Lightning wouldn't know until she was whipping the makeshift rope of ivy vine over her head. She regarded the length of stripped greenery in Fang's hands like it was a poisonous snake.

"Why do you want me to do it? Isn't this more your thing?"

She jerked her chin back to where Vanille was combing through the fur of a wild sheep, cultivating what she could to help keep them all warm tonight. The scene of the two Pulsians netting the Garuda out of the skies surrounding the Palamecia was still fresh in everyone's minds. Sometimes she still caught Sazh staring at the younger girl with brow furrowed and mouth agape, like she was the greatest contradiction he'd ever faced, and – if it were possible – Hope had been looking even more starry-eyed over her since then. Lightning had been just as impressed – by both of them – having harbored enduring doubts over the foreigners since before Palumpolum and the long talk she and Fang had there.

"That was fishing," Fang said then, following Lightning's line of thought like it had been spoken aloud. "This is roping. Very different."

Lightning cocked a brow that made Fang deflate with a sigh. She hardly saw any difference, really, and it still didn't make sense why Fang wanted her to do this. They had chocobos to spare since saving the Namva flock from their Sahagin infestation. They'd gotten them plenty far and plenty high, leaping up cliffs and bounding across the Steppe like children playing hopscotch. They were never short a mount when they needed one, finding them all over the place since they were free to leave their mountain grotto with peace of mind. What was so special about this one?

Lightning cast her gaze around to the bird Fang had her eye on. She was no expert on any animals, but from the outside, there didn't appear to be any outstanding features about this particular bird. In fact, it seemed pretty docile. Almost completely unremarkable from the rest of the Namva flock. It grazed peacefully in the shade of a curling cliff-face, golden feathers gleaming dimly from the shadows. It was of average size for a chocobo, she figured. A sturdy build, long legs, just like the rest. She returned her skeptical stare to Fang's hopeful one, still uncomprehending towards her agenda.

"Alright, alright, easy on the death-goddess glare you got goin' on there, sheesh."

Fang threw up her hands in surrender, although she wasn't anywhere near ready to concede. Her hands alighted upon her hips, lasso coiled against her thigh. Lightning wished she would just throw the ridiculous thing across the planet instead of leaving it in her fist to continue taunting her with. Fang jerked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating Sazh where he was talking idly with Snow on the other side of camp.

"Here's the deal: the old man n' I've got a bet goin'…"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"Whatever it is, no."

Lightning was already walking away before Fang could present a counter argument. Lightning's adamance against taking part in any of her shenanigans didn't dissuade Fang from pursuing her. The woman was relentless and, in any other relevant circumstance, Lightning respected that. Winning her a bet didn't qualify as relevant, though.

"I'll split the winnings with you!" Fang bargained.

"What are you even betting with? Coconuts? Pass."

"Mm, something a smidge more valuable than that."

Something in her voice drew Lightning's attention, reigning her march to a halt. She turned to Fang and found an unfamiliar wistfulness to her smile. Fang wasn't one for dreaming or reminiscing – Lightning had learned that early on. There was too much in the present to afford the longing affection for memory, nor the indulgence of fantasizing about a future that may never be.

"It's a long-term investment," she explained. "In a wedding gift. For Snow or Serah or both – we didn't hammer out the details – but, whatever it is and whoever it's for, winner foots the bill."

Lightning's chest tightened. The dream of seeing her sister married had been nearly erased beneath the burn of her l'Cie brand. She could hardly see anything past her Focus, cloudy though it may be. She stared at Fang, shocked that, out of all of them, she was imagining such an optimistic outcome to all of this.

"It was Sazh's idea," Fang said – perhaps a little too quickly. "Thought there was no harm in indulging the man." She turned the conversation with a devious twist of her lips, careful to keep her true feelings about the future off the table. "Besides all that, you sorta owe me a favor."

Whatever speck of tenderness Lightning felt at the image of Serah's nuptials abruptly switched to skepticism. She didn't recall any reason why she would owe Fang such a favor as this.

"I haven't quite absolved you of that bitch-slap back in Palumpolum."

"Helping you survive Bahamut wasn't payback enough?"

"Sorry, who is the offended party here? It's not up to you to decide when I've been paid my dues, now, is it?"

Fang's grin bore all the primal savagery of a gorgonopsid snatching prey in a trap. She and Lightning both knew that the latter couldn't deny her. It went against her honor to refuse righting this wrong. Ordinarily, Lightning didn't mind that fact about herself – in fact, her honor was the only thing she really took any pride in. It was just the way Fang exploited it, as a weakness rather than a strength, that made the soldier's skin crawl. The Pulsians were a crafty bunch.

Sensing that the battle was hers, Fang, once again, presented her damnable contraption, the loops of ivy dangling from her hand like a sleeping python. Lightning stared at the lasso, glanced around at the other occupants of the camp – hoping beyond hope that they wouldn't feel the need to watch – and sighed.

"Good luck!" Fang sang when the soldier took the rope in her fist.

Approaching the chocobo was like walking to the gallows. This was where her pride went to die, she thought. This would be the peak of her shame, the underline of her humiliation, the precipice of defeat… Lightning swallowed the vomit of profanities which threatened to herald her arrival. Just think of it like animal control, she coached herself. You've done it a hundred times. Yes, it's a waste of your skills. Yes, animals have never liked you. But, you signed onto this job. It's your responsibility. And it pays. Although the paycheck wasn't going towards living expenses, at least Fang could never again ensnare Lightning under the pretense of debts unpaid.

Lightning stopped a good few feet from the chocobo, analyzing her options. The animal didn't appear to have any interest in her, continuing to peck at the soft green earth as if it were the only creature on Pulse. Lightning sized it up while she remained unnoticed and jostled the lasso in her hand as she thought. How in Etro's name did she go about this? A wild chocobo was a far cry from a dog off its leash or a cat in a tree. She couldn't just glare it into submission and use the laws of domesticity to her advantage. How did the wranglers in Nautilus do it? You needed years of experience to have even the slightest clue how to handle a chocobo. Lightning was lucky if she managed to stay astride a chocobo with just the basic knowledge Fang and Vanille provided.

How did Fang expect her to succeed? She doesn't, Lightning realized, belatedly. She's betting against you. Lightning ground her teeth together in a low snarl. Damn that woman! And damn you for going along with this, you idiot! She should have just let Fang punch her in the jaw and been done with it.

A curious "kweh" struck Lightning still. She slowly lifted her gaze to find a beady black one staring right back at her. The silence was as thick as brick. A low breeze whistled across the grass. Lightning half-expected a tumbleweed to come rolling between them.

If she'd been at a loss before, she was doubly uncertain now. The chocobo quirked its head on its side, a warbly cluck tittering in its throat. Lightning's brain went completely blank. She forgot why she was standing there for a second before her instincts hot-wired her back into gear. She pursed her lips and rifled deep into her memory. It was time to put all those survivalist documentaries to good use – although most of them illustrated how to escape a wild animal, not how to approach one.

One of the steps she recalled for less carnivorous creatures was to make yourself bigger than the other animal. Throwing your hands over your head and making loud noises might chase the animal away long enough for you to beat a hasty retreat, but that was counter-productive to Lightning's cause. Using the lasso as Fang seemed to expect her to might be perceived as a threatening gesture as well. Short of dumping a bucket of feathers and glue over her head, she had no idea how to get close to the chocobo without spooking it.

She tested the waters by toeing an inch nearer to the bird, knees bent in anticipation of a chase. Either the movement Lightning made was so miniscule that the chocobo didn't register it, or the creature didn't heed her as any concern to its well-being, whatsoever. Lightning tried not to be offended by that thought. This over-sized chicken had it coming if it under-estimated her. She moved another step closer, this one larger than the last, trying to coax some kind of reaction from it. Its head tipped a little more on its side, but otherwise remained unaffected by her presence.

If you're that stupid, then why can't I just walk right up and toss this over your neck? She was starting to consider it as a viable possibility. Maybe this was all an elaborate prank, anyway. What was to say this chocobo wasn't one of the tame ones already? What if this was just Fang's sadistic way of getting inside her head and seeing how long Lightning would make a fool of herself before she got a clue?

You'll never know unless you do something.

Lightning straightened from her stance, squaring her shoulders and leveling a glare at the potential steed. The chocobo stared blankly back. Lightning marched up to the animal as if it were one of her subordinates, fully expecting compliance. For a second, that's what Lightning thought she might get. The chocobo clucked and ruffled its feathers, but otherwise remained still. Feeling assured of her suspicions that this chocobo was already tame, Lightning reached out to touch its feathers…

…and her hand swiped at empty air. When she was within half an inch of touching it, the chocobo side-stepped and trotted away while her fist grasped at nothing. It halted a few paces off, turned around, looked at her, and said, "Kweh!"

Lightning's fingers flexed in and out of a fist, her eyes wide with fury. The chocobo watched her, clucking expectantly. Was it challenging her? It shook out its feathers like a matador flapping a red cape, daring her to try again. Lightning's teeth shut down on a snarl. She shook out the lasso Fang had armed her with, fully prepared to use it in retaliation. The chocobo was about as unimpressed with that as it was with her.

Lightning tested the length of rope, giving it a little spin. The movement felt awkward at first, every inch of the circle's edge pulling in a different direction. With enough momentum, however, the loop began to twirl slowly in a singular direction. A few successful turns did not a wrangled chocobo make, though. While Lightning was satisfied by her minuscule success with the lasso, the chocobo was already bored with her. It turned its back on her and resumed its grazing.

That was a mistake, Lightning thought, venomously.

She was losing her patience for this – not that she'd had a lot for it to begin with. She'd defeated more fearsome creatures than a chocobo on her way to Pulse. If she could cripple PSICOM mechs and stand up to Cocoon's fal'Cie then, she could damn well wrangle a chocobo.

Lightning worked the lasso a little bit faster, trying to get used to the alien way in which the rope dragged around the air. Spinning in one place wasn't too difficult once she got a feel for it; aiming and throwing was another story completely. Lightning gave the loop a test toss, and bit the inside of her cheek when it flopped uselessly to the ground a mere two feet from where she stood. Flinging it from ground level wasn't the way to go, but she wasn't certain if she could manipulate the swirling circle overhead.

You're gonna have to, she told herself. There was no other way to go about it.

Lightning readjusted her stance, shook out her wrist, and determined to make this lasso work. She whipped the loop into a spin, just above the ground, and gaining momentum the quicker she twisted her wrist. Slowly, she angled the lasso a little higher, anything the circle to spin vertically and arching it back into a horizontal position over her head. Her antics were finally interesting enough to regain the chocobo's attention. Its long neck craned upwards, and Lightning saw her chance.

It's like a game of ring toss, she tried to convince herself, remembering the game vendors along the Bodhum Boardwalk. She'd won Serah a stuffed animal from that ring toss stall – just to gloat over Snow, if she was being honest with herself. This was the same basic principle on a bigger scale… Right?

With only her ego on the line, Lightning hoped that "Lady Luck" who Fang loved so much was on her side, and flung the lasso towards the chocobo. The both of them watched the rope sail through the air as if it were a movie in slow-motion. It felt like a decade went by until the coil of ivy landed with a soft thump…right around the chocobo's neck. A series of blinks shuttered across Lightning's vision, expecting the image to vanish behind any one. But, the chocobo remained where it was, caught in the noose and plucking curiously at it.

Lightning couldn't believe it. She didn't think she could do it again if she tried. Half of her wasn't sure she'd done it to begin with, and that her success was just an illusion. Whether she'd truly accomplished the capture of a chocobo or not, her thoughts inevitably narrowed down to one question: What now? She was so certain that she wouldn't get this far that she had no idea how to proceed from here. It wasn't like the lasso was a magic wand that, once it touched a chocobo, put it under her control. There was much more to it than that.

The chocobo nibbled idly at the ivy, not particularly distressed by it. Lightning pulled herself out of her shock and adjusted her grip on her end of the rope. She gave it a short tug to see how the chocobo reacted. It sent her a vacant stare and, otherwise, didn't respond. Lightning grit her teeth and gave it another pull, growing more and more frustrated by how little she intimidated the bird. This time, the chocobo did react by yanking back on the other end of the rope, jerking Lightning forward. She stumbled, but regained her footing and glared across at the animal. Her next tug was sharper and angrier, and it was her last mistake.

The sun caught a mischievous glint off the chocobo's gaze. Before she could prepare herself, the chocobo pawed its talons at the dirt as if revving an engine, turned its tail-feathers to her, and bolted across the field. Lightning was dragged from her feet, hitting the ground and losing the rope with a rough hiss through her gloves. The chocobo charged from her reach, leaving a trail of ivy and dust in its wake. Lightning pounded a fist to the ground and cursed, cringing when she heard Fang's deep, throaty laugh behind her.

"It was a good effort, Light, but that's about as far as I thought you'd get."

"Farther than I thought," Sazh said. "You've still got to pay up though, Fang."

Lightning looked over her shoulder, staring uncomprehendingly at Sazh. "You bet against me?"

The old pilot looked sheepishly down at his boots, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're good at a lot of things, Light, but there was no way chocobo roping would be one of those things."

She glared at him, but didn't have the heart to be mad. He'd been right, after all. Besides, she'd known pretty much the same once she'd started Fang's little mission.

"What do I owe you now?" she asked the Pulsian, rolling onto her back and huffing at the sky.

"I think this little display was entertaining enough to put you out of your misery."

Lightning was oddly unrelieved by that. She closed her eyes for a moment to wish a thousand embarrassments upon Fang. As she did, a shadow fell over her face, blocking the sunlight. When she opened her eyes, they were filled with a face full of yellow feathers and an orange beak.

"Kweh?"

It cocked its head at her, wondering what she was doing on the ground. As if it didn't know.

"Aw!" Fang laughed. "After all that, I think she actually likes you, Lightnin'!"

The feeling was not mutual.

A/N: Just something short, simple, and stupid for the summer! Was scribbling this down here and there to air out ye olde brain. I love slice of life pieces and have this whole series of ficlets about the XIII gang's misadventures with Pulse's local fauna. Maybe I'll do some more, I'm not sure lol. Hope you enjoyed reading! Happy summer! :)