She resembled nothing so much as a wet kitten, hissing and spitting, all flying claws and outraged indignation. He could imagine her fur bristling with anger, ears laid back, whiskers twitching. It was a delightful notion, but he made the mistake of chuckling over it in her presence, which had no other effect than to make her even more furious.

"What did you tell him?" She raged, two bright spots of anger appearing on her cheeks, marring her smooth golden tan.

"Who, me?" He widened his eye, striving for an expression of innocence. "Nothing, of course."

"Obviously you said something, since he couldn't wait to get out of here. Do you think you could, oh, I don't know, maybe work on not running off all of my dates?" She was still seething, breath hissing through her clenched teeth as her fingers curled and uncurled in an attempt to refrain from actually hitting him.

"Oh, come on, Rikku. That guy couldn't tell a socket wrench from a screw driver. You can do better." He gave her a look of disappointment, as though he was personally offended by her choice in men.

She jabbed a finger into his chest, poking viciously. "You are my boss," she enunciated, "not my keeper. I won't have you sabotaging my love life!"

"Hey, this is still my faction," he said irritably, feeling uncomfortably like a chastened child under her ire, "I don't have to let in anyone I don't want to. And as long as you're under my roof, you'll obey my rules."

At her outraged gasp, he realized exactly what he'd said, how unreasonably condescending he'd sounded. He grimaced, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace – but he could tell by the set of her jaw that any attempt at placating her would be too little, too late.

"Fine," she snapped, whirling towards the stairs. Her hair swished over her shoulder, stinging strands smacking him in the face with all the force of a slap. "Just give me twenty minutes to pack my things and I'll be out of your hair. Far be it from me to defile your precious faction with the unworthy."

"Rikku, I didn't mean–" he winced as she began stomping up the stairs, clearly in an unforgiving mood. "I didn't mean it like that," he persevered, following her up. "Slip of the tongue," he insisted. "Won't happen again."

"You're damn right, it won't," she muttered, throwing open her bedroom door and dragging her bag from the closet. She rummaged through drawers, tossing clothing and knickknacks indiscriminately into it.

"Really," he said. "Just think about it for a minute, okay? There isn't a boarding house or an apartment complex within twenty miles of Djose. That commute is going to be hell, especially considering how late–"

"Who said anything about commuting?" She cut in, tossing him a glare over her shoulder. "I'm quitting."

"Quitting?" Oh, hell, no, this had gone on long enough. "You can't quit. I need you."

Her eyebrows shot up and she turned, shooting him a questioning glance. He felt a flush spread across his face even as he tried desperately to backpedal. "I-I mean, I need you in the workshop. You're my best employee. I'll have to hire two or three new guys to replace you if you leave."

Comprehension dawned in her eyes. Her mouth dropped open in surprise, shock warring with disbelief. "You didn't care who I dated, you didn't want me dating period," she said finally, accusingly. "You were jealous."

"I was not," he scowled, glancing both ways down the hallway just to make sure no one was listening in on what could be a very embarrassing conversation.

"You were, too," she insisted, wide-eyed. "Wow. I can't believe I never noticed before."

"Probably because there's nothing to notice," he snapped. She was enjoying his discomfort far too much, but at least she'd stepped away from the half-full bag on her bed, even if it was only to look him over as though he'd suddenly grown another head. She stopped just a foot in front of him, close enough that he could smell the sweet scent of her vanilla perfume. Close enough that he could see the cluster of golden freckles sprinkled over the bridge of her nose. Almost close enough to…

"Whoa." A little shocked giggle gurgled out of her throat. "It's true. It's totally true."

He glowered. "What the hell are you talking about now?"

"Just now, you sort of looked like you wanted to eat me. Just for a minute, there." Another giggle. "It just seems so obvious now, I can't believe I missed it."

He didn't know if it was the desperation to keep her from leaving or that delicious vanilla scent that was driving him out of his mind, or even if it was the way she kept chewing that tempting lower lip, but something in him snapped. The next thing he knew, he'd caught her by the upper arms and hauled her against him, pressing his lips to hers. For a moment she was stiff with surprise, but slowly the tension drained from her and she relaxed against him. A few teasing kisses later and he coaxed her lips to part to allow him a deeper kiss. She gasped, and he jerked back, jolted into reality.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that," he muttered. "It was just a–"

"If you say 'slip of the tongue,' I swear I will stomp on your foot," she said.

"Right." He was still holding her – he couldn't seem to make his hands let her go. "So, um…are you still planning on leaving?"

"I don't know," she said. "I guess it depends." Her eyes were still wide with awe and wonder – and he'd just confirmed all of her suspicions.

"On what?" What could she want? Extra vacation days? A clothing allowance? Her own office? Hell, he'd give up his own if she wanted it. If it would make her stay.

"On how you feel about inter-office relationships." A blush stained her cheeks. She was clearly embarrassed at being so forthright.

"I'm…for them?"

"Okay." She extricated herself from his gasp, heading back to the bag on her bed. "I'll stay, then." She removed a couple of things from her bag, shuffling around the room to put them back in their proper places.

"Really? You'll stay?" He wondered if maybe it was some sort of joke – payback for treating her like a child, maybe.

"Yeah." She planted her hands on her hips. "Provided you stop acting like you're my father. I've never had a daddy complex."

"Okay." He could do that. Provided she stopped tormenting him with other men. "And you'll stop bringing losers back to Djose?"

She snorted. "If by 'losers' you mean 'anyone who is not you'… I suppose that could be arranged."

"Good, because as your boyfriend and your boss, I'd take exception to it." He folded his arms, trying to look forbidding.

"Boyfriend!" She whirled on him with a laugh. "Oh, no, no, no. You've got a ways to go before you're boyfriend material. But," she said, "you can start by taking me to dinner."

It was better than what he'd been before – full-time boss and part-time annoyance. He'd settle for 'boyfriend-in-training.'

"And," she said sweetly, patting his cheek, "if you behave yourself – and that means no attempting to throw your weight around – I might be persuaded to allow another 'slip of the tongue.'"