Bloody Puberty

"Oh, Snow! I can't! Sarah! I can't betray my sister!" Lightning murmured loudly, her huge, flawlessly beautiful lapis lazuli orbs flashing away from him.

He wanted to ravish her then and there, to take her dazzlingly glorious body into his arms; to play with the tangled wisps and watch the sunshine in her hair: smooth as silk!

"It's alright, Lightning dearest!" Snow mumbled brokenly, "she doesn't have to know. We can be together! Forever! For eternal love! Just us heroes!" He thumped his fists together, and his iridescent cerulean blue marbles flashed with love.

"But Snow..." Lightning murmured, smooth as velvet with her furious, beautiful silken voice. It was so melodiously perfect, just hearing it made his knees buckle in sweet surrender.

"Lightning..." Snow asserted dizzily.

"Snow..." Lightning asseverated.

"Lightning..." Snow discombobulated.

"Snow..." Lightning bamboozled passionately.

Then, as her blueish emerald orbs met his azure, glowing syndicates, he knew they were finally in blissful love. So painfully, in fact, he felt his behemoth body tingle with the painful, wanton lust of anticipation. To finally be one with his beloved pink-headed love! He couldn't take it anymore — willing himself only to abandon moral norms, to plunge forth into the dark abyss with sinful delight.

"Lightning..."

"Snow..."

The time had come.

"Oh, sister! I love you!" ejaculated Snow with a sudden gusto.

"...bloody puberty."

"Say what, Fang?"

"Bloody puberty, I said. Bloody kids and their bloody hormones." She bopped Vanille lightly on the head with the book, and had to refrain from going 'awww' when Vanille winced. Just simply adorable, that kid. And really, what Fang wanted to do now was to laugh maniacally for at least a minuteand run off to find Lightning to yell passages from the book. But she could do that later. Now was quality time with Vanille. "So why are you showing me this? This thing—"

"Fanfiction."

"What?"

"Fanfiction." Vanille took the book away from her and pointed at a tiny sequence of words at the corner of the cover. Something about being unauthorised and not to be held liable because of this and that. "See?" she said as Fang squinted, "we're the heroes; they're our fans. Hence: Fanfiction."

And Fang wondered what idiot would waste time writing one, much less read that steaming pile of chocobo dung. She leaned back into her chair and massaged her temple. "Don't tell me there are more of this going around."

"Yep. You and me. You and Lightning. You and Hope—"

"Wait a minute. Hope? You and Lightning I don't mind — but Hope?"

"And Sazh and Snow..." she trailed off, catching Fang's incredulous look. "Don't worry. You're always on top."

Fang tried to bleach the image out of her mind. Failed, of course. Life wasn't that easy. "Vanille? I don't think that's supposed to make me happy." But more disturbing than anything she had heard: the fact that Vanille knew what 'on top' implied.

"Oh, Fang. But you still have it better than I do. You don't even want to know what happens to me most of the time in those books. Once I had—"

"All righty there, missy." Fang pulled Vanille into her lap and encircled her arms around the girl's waist — if only to stop her from saying anything else. The conversation was starting to reach perturbing grounds. She took the book and threw it carelessly onto her desk. "So why'd you really come here, hmm? Not just to show me Snow and Light frolicking in a meadow, I hope."

"Well, that's just to cheer you up..." Vanille said, trailing off when Fang started nuzzling her hair. "Oh Fang." She giggled. "Actually, I came here because..."

She tucked Vanille's head under her chin and inhaled the scent. Vanille smelled like Vanille. Nice. Fresh shower gel — citrus. Fang's favourite. Another nuzzle. After all the fighting giant robots and saving the world business — she could get used to this. Just sitting here with Vanille, enjoying the moment spent with each other. Peaceful bliss. Really, what could go wro

"I want you to meet my boyfriend."

What could not go wrong?

Fang stared at the back of her head, slack jawed. "...what in the bloody creator's armpits are you talking about?"

"Now now Fang, no cursing," Vanille said, admonishing her gently. She leaned further onto Fang's body, taking Fang's hands and clasping them with her own; utterly oblivious to the woman's expression. "He's a nice guy; I'm sure you'll like him."

"I don't care if he's going around feeding abandoned chocobo chicks," Fang said after she had the sense to stop glaring at Vanille's hair, "you can't just waltz in here, shove trashy porn in my face, then tell me you've suddenly got a boyfriend. Doesn't work that way, Vanille."

"Fang..." With a sigh, Vanille re-positioned herself so that she was sitting sideways, an elbow hooked onto the Fang's shoulder. "I'm not a kid anymore, you know. It's perfectly reasonable for someone my age to start dating, don't you think?"

"Don't I think? When I was your age—"

"You were busy saving the world and killing fal'Cies left and right. I know; I was there with you."

"So—"

"But you were dating way before then, when we were still together in Oerba. In fact, I don't remember a time when you weren't having melodramatic... drama with your lovers—"

"You can't call those lovers," Fang said. It was true: One night stands hardly constituted as anything beyond that. It wasn't her fault they had construed it differently and acted all dramatic like.

Another sigh from Vanille. "Well, maybe not. Still, that makes your argument about my age obsolete. I'm twenty one, Fang. I'm sure I'm supposed to have a boyfriend or two by now."

"Can't you at least wait until you're older?" When she's well into her thirties, for example. And two? Even one was three too many. Hopefully that was just a figure of speech on Vanille's part. Because otherwise there would be a whole lot of hurt to inflict.

"Oh, stop it Fang. You're acting like a jealous husband."

"What? I'm acting rightly as a jealous— I mean, figure who is concerned about you. What if he just wants your body? Or if he's only into you because you're one of us big damn heroes? Or if he's secretly strangling chocobos—"

"I think Sazh would know if anyone's strangling chocobos, secretly or not." She chuckled and bopped her forehead against Fang's. "If you're so concerned about me, then come meet him. It won't be too bad. I promise. We'll even go to your favourite place?"

Fang groaned. "A-nd here comes the puppy eyes."

"Really?" Vanille batted her eyelashes. "If it'll help..."

"If it'll help? Those are bordering on criminal, kiddo." Of course, that only intensified Vanille's eyelash batting; eyes wet and — if Fang were forced to describe it — very definitely gooey. And puppyish. And all those cute, sugary sweet crap those kids had learned to do ever since they realised daddy (and/or any adults in proximity) would buy anything with a well-timed teary eyed... crying thing. Being someone who had slain her first behemoth at the tender age of ten, there was no way she would resort to something so unfairly manipulative, even if her life depended on it. Being the subject of it however, was an almost daily occurrence ever since they were kids. And really, exposure did not mean immunity. She had spoiled Vanille rotten and was living to regret it.

"Fine," she said, disgusted at her own weakness for anything Vanille, "I'll go, but I don't have to like it."

"Really?"

Still those bloody eyes. If Fang had declined, she would move on to pouting, and that could not be allowed to happen. "Yes. Really."

"Yay! You're really the best, Fang." And with that, Vanille pecked her on the cheek and jumped up off her lap. "Well, gotta go now, Serah's asking me to go shopping with her. Tomorrow at three, okay?"

"Sure, sure," Fang said with a lazy wave. "And."

About to open the door, Vanille turned and tilted her head. "Yes?"

"Tell Serah to buy you something conservative for tomorrow or I'll personally borrow Snow's trench coat and swaddle you in it myself. Can't go around half naked like that near hormonal kids, you hear me?"

Vanille smiled. "You're always such an old man. I will; don't worry. See ya!" And then she was gone, the door closing with a soft click behind her.

When the annoyingly cheerful sound of her footsteps faded away, Fang found herself slumping further downwards.

Bloody puberty.

It had been so simple when they were kids and Fang naturally commanded everyone's attention; Vanille was just the short, orange coloured surplus who followed her everywhere like a persistent double-sided tape. She was simply invisible, and it was glorious. But then that bloody kid just had to go through puberty: Getting breasts; growing taller; developing nice, shapely legs; acquiring a fashion sense that meant utterly skimpy, navel bearing clothing (or lack thereof). Then all of a sudden she was the cutest, prettiest little thing in the whole of Oerba.

Fang did not like that. Not because it stole attention away from her — that was a welcome change — but because there were suddenly a lot of males to beat off with a spear. It was time consuming and irritating. Luckily for her and her clothing (because removing bloodstains consumed even more time), Vanille had never expressed any interest in males beyond a cursory glance and a 'I think you're much better, Fang'.

So why now? Bloody puberty and its after effects.

But again, who's to say she had to like it? Or not do anything about it, for that matter. Yes. She'd meet him tomorrow and even act within reasonable social limits. Didn't mean she had to just sit there and let Vanille be carted off by some pubescent kid.

Like a famous warlord once said: Keep your enemies close, and your friends even closer.

Maybe not. But it wasn't as if the original quotation made any sense. Fang was content with her own alteration.

But there was a lot of time to plot, still. For now, that thick hardcover on her desk was just begging to be read, and Lightning was just begging to be another butt to yet another joke. Taking it, she opened the book to a random page and a serial massacre of capital letters and exclamation marks caught her eye. Expecting to be thoroughly entertained, she began reading.

"UUUUUNNGGGGHH!" Lightning moaned vigorously against the fervent pounding of Snow's thick, hard, thirteen in

All coherency left her as soon as she fell off the chair and hit the edge of her very hard, very thick, very black, and very wooden desk.

She thought about that for a moment. Then continued laughing until her stomach seized up and she began to get worried.

Continued.

So, I was writing the second chapter for Divine Intervention, but then I saw a bright light (ha! Light. I crack me up, sometimes) and wandered away. Why has no one written a terribad purple prose of Snow and Lightning frolicking in meadows before? WHY?

And this was originally intended as a concise, romanceless, strictly sisters!Fanille one-shot, but it rebelled. So. Enjoy it and review for some free cyber luvin', guys. Reviews make me all gooey inside.