Blandishments and Blarney

Tap, tap, tap, tap, thud.

The table shook as Lightning's palms slammed onto its oaken surface. Plates, glasses and cutlery shifted and rattled due to the action but the calm figure sitting opposite her did not even bat an eyelid. If anything, the grin on Fang's face seemed to grow wider.

"Come now, what's wrong Sunshine? What'd the poor table do to you? He's already got plenty of scars 'cause Vanille and I are too lazy to find a chopping board. Don't think he needs you shaking his old legs to bits too."

Lightning felt the annoyance lancing through her get gently fobbed off by a sense of puzzlement. 'Why is she using personal pronouns for a piece of furniture?' Then the irritation was back, filling her mind even more pervasively than before. 'Why am I even wondering about that?'

"You just wondered why I refer to this table as a 'he', didn't you, Light? Don't deny it, I saw you frown for a second there. Well, frown more than you were doing previously. Actually, let's just say that it was a slightly different sort of frown. You know, your bewildered frown. Instead of your pissed off frown. Yep, the exact one you're giving me right now. Anyway, back to what I was saying: this table is a 'he' because -"

Forget irritation; that was a minor mental state compared to the anger she could feel building up inside her. Lightning's hands were no longer flat on the table's surface and were beginning to ball themselves into fists. And the action was completely involuntary, which made her feel even more frustrated. If there was one thing Lightning Farron prided herself on, it was her ability to remain in control of any situation and most importantly, of herself. But this woman just got under her skin so easily and managed to press all the wrong buttons!

"- and after all the hoo-hah, Vanille decided to name all the furniture in the house. This here is Jerome, that cupboard there is Marcia and the stove's called Fred. If you want to know all the other names, you'll have to ask Vanille. I had to stop her coming up with personalities for each of them too. Bet you never had that problem with Serah eh? I doubt either of you has watched 'Beauty and the Beast' though, it was a real popular kids movie on Gran Pulse. Hey Light, did you know your face starts to match your hair when you get mad?"

Her knuckles were white now and her nails were digging into her palms. Various scenarios involving sharp metal utensils being flung at that smug face were tumbling through her mind. 'Why did I leave my gunblade in the next room? I could have shot her by now.' Aqua eyes darted around the room, noting possible exits and potentially useful implements. 'She doesn't have her lance here either. I can take her.'

"Mind telling me what's got you all hot and bothered? I don't want to see that pretty face of yours all scrunched up any longer. You're frowning so hard that I can barely see your eyes and I really like looking at 'em. Have I ever told you that you have really beautiful eyes? Not that the rest of you isn't stunning of course. But I think I love your eyes the most. They speak such volumes about you. Usually they're electric blue, clear and telling the world how strong you are. When you're unhappy or thinking too much, they get a tad darker and turn turquoise. And right now, when I can see you're about to hurl something my way, they're darker yet. I wonder if that shade is called sky blue –"

She'd done it partly out of anger and partly because of shock. By the time the ceramic bowl left her hand, Lightning was already regretting the move. 'She was complimenting me. No one's ever done that. Only Serah knows that they change colour. Wait, when has she been staring at my eyes?' Cursing herself for losing control, Lightning sank into a defensive stance, bracing for a counter attack while simultaneously opening her mouth to apologise.

Her mouth remained open but the apology never left her lips when Fang simply plucked the bowl out of the air in one smooth movement and set it back onto the table. A dark brown eyebrow arched upwards as a smirk settled on her face.

"Were the people on Cocoon blind or just stupid? 'Cause you act like you've never been complimented before. Every time I show some appreciation for the fine figure that is Lightning Farron, physical harm is usually headed my way. Most other girls just blush and say thanks. If it weren't for Vanille and her salves, I would still have that huge bruise where you punched me after I commented on your legs!"

Mortification, happiness and frustration vied for prominence amongst Lightning's thought processes. Eventually, irritation won if only because she was most familiar with it and felt that it was easier to wield. Turning around smartly, she stomped towards the door, yearning to leave Fang's presence and find some nice open place where she could release some of this stress.

"And we're back where we started. Shall I make another remark about your ass? Because I really do have a most excellent view from here. That's what you were gonna yell at me about earlier wasn't it? Another example of why you need to learn to accept flattery, Sunshine."

The heavy door slammed shut and dislodged some dust motes from the rafters. Chuckling to herself, Fang gathered the dinner things and put them in the sink (Brent). A few minutes later found her outside, leaning against the patio railing and breathing in the cool night air. Her smile only grew wider when the quiet atmosphere was rent by a howl of frustration.

It sounded like Lightning.

Author's Note: This is what happens when I flick open a dictionary and pick a word. I wind up with a 'B' titled fic right after posting an 'A' titled one. Maybe I'll just go with the flow and keep picking words alphabetically...