Balthier raised his eyebrows at her enthusiasm. She was beside herself with excitement, and he felt a smirk rise to his lips in a way that was almost self-satisfactory. It was a rare day that he had the chance to show off his work to interested eyes. Or so he thought. There was something vaguely familiar in her aimless passion. She wished dearly to see the skies. Where had he heard that before?

”A trifling thing,” Balthier said. ”I’ve trained a copilot before, and you seem to have your wits about you. It would be a temporary arrangement of course. I wouldn’t want to steal you away.” Unless she chose to be stolen. Somehow Balthier had the feeling that she’d be impossible to shake if she really put her mind to it.

Even better, she had no objections to his planned theft. She didn’t need to know where it came from at any rate which suited him just fine. He was more than capable of handling the actual thefts on his own.

Would it put her at risk? Those were questions best saved for another time. With his sudden blank slate, he had few enemies at the moment. Once a few more bounties were on his head, then they’d talk.

Aerith leaned in and smiled at him with that too-sweet gleam in her eye. Balthier shot her a scrupulous look. ”Laying it on a tad thick, aren’t we?” He couldn’t deny that he felt amiable towards her, but he known few who he’d ever called a friend. Not a friend he wouldn’t disregard if the winds were right at least.

Still, he couldn’t deny her charm. Or her gall. He looked up to consider the chandelier. ”And I just so happen to have a most luxurious space on my floor. A fair bit of luck, that.” He smirked faintly, head tilted. ”Assuming you can prove your while. Let’s test those convictions, shall we?”

He glanced past the other tables to the hallway where their waiter had disappeared. Retrieving the check. He hadn’t time to waste.

”If you’d excuse me.” Balthier caught Aerith’s eye as he stood, not looking away until he’d sidled past. Perhaps she would understand his meaning. Perhaps she wouldn’t. Only time would tell.

He followed down the waiter down the same hallway, casting him a smile as he passed. Said waiter eyed him with veiled suspicion but said nothing as Balthier drifted towards the bathrooms. He had already put a target on his back with all of the excitement, and he wasn’t like to lose them when his look so differed from the rest. No, leaving by the front would be pointless. Instead, he glanced towards the kitchens.

A waitress pushed through the doors as he passed, and he craned his neck to catch a glimpse inside. Three rows of tall metal stoves. At the back, a door. He slipped into the bathroom and waited.

The washroom was a lavish affair. Marble floors, black oaken towel shelves, and a chaise longue along one wall. Balthier eyed the small, clouded window near the ceiling of one wall, but banished the thought as soon as he caught the white sealant around the glass. Instead, he crossed his arms and kept an eye on the hallway outside. Once it was clear, he slipped back into the open and stuck a foot into the kitchen doors.

He peered through the crack to see them hard at work, shifting pans over flashes of flame. He edged to the side until he caught sight of the stove in the far most corner from the back door. Then he brought his hands before him and muttered his spell.

Fire erupted around the pan in a raging inferno that shot straight into the ceiling. There was a cry of shock, the clatter of dropped kitchenware, and then rising voices. Footsteps. All available hands gathered to the scene as the flames raged on. Balthier ducked behind them and hurried along behind the first row of stoves.

The door led to a back alley. Empty. He straightened as he doubled around, backstepping to catch a glimpse of the kitchen before the door closed. No one had noticed. Smirking, he started towards the street and found a place just out of reach from the establishment’s entrance.

He crossed his arms and watched it with interest. He would wait another quarter hour or until he was spotted. If he’d judged her correctly then Aerith would meet him. If not, then he would spare no remorse for his duplicity.

She had already played him. It was only natural that he make his move in return.

ulla

She came.

Balthier had expected as much, but still, he found himself fairly pleased as he saw her stalking towards him with a fire in her eyes. He was pleasantly surprised to find a finger at his face rather than the back of a hand. ”That wasn’t very nice.” Aerith huffed childishly and turned from him as Balthier watched her in interest. Then he smirked, stifling laughter. He’d been called nearly everything in the books, but not very nice was a new one.

Still, she showed the same tact he’d seen outside the flower shop, bargaining for a place on his bed before-

’The expectant mother of his child?’ Balthier blinked, thrown for the briefest of moments before he cleared his eyes again. Was that what she’d told them? My, but she was shameless.

”As crafty as expected, I see.” Balthier shook his head. ”You chose the game if I recall. I can hardly be blamed for playing it.” In fact, he felt no blame whatsoever. He’d made a gamble of his own after all, one he’d have paid for dearly had he lost. ”All’s well that ends well as they say.” He ushered her forward as he started down the street, thoughts already on the days to come.

He had seen his fair share of cons and cheats, and they all shared one thing in common -- their silver tongues. While Aerith’s tongue was blunt as a wrench, she wielded it better than any he’d seen. Between her unyielding persistence and the sparkle in her eye, most men hardly stood a chance. She could put her skills to so much better use than selling flowers.

He’d chosen to stay nowhere special. Nothing more than a single room approachable from the outside beneath a flickering light. He thrust in his key, jiggling the lock before the door jerked open and a musty smell met him. The room was cramped with only a single bed that was supposedly a queen, a shrunken table set, and a telecom screen set above a dresser. At the far end was a set of sinks and a door leading to a combination toilet and shower.

Could he have afforded better? Likely, but he’d have found it a waste of gil. He’d stayed in far less tasteful and far more dangerous. He’d have found anything else almost extravagant.

”You’re free to make use of it as you’d like.” Balthier gave a dismissive wave of his hand as he started towards the table and unfastened his golden armor plates. He set it aside, loosened his cuffs, and unbuckled the pouches at his hip. These he would be keeping with him, under his arm as he slept if needed.

”On second thought, I think I’d find the floor quite the change of pace. I’d be remiss should I fail to provide for my newly wedded.” He glanced at her, smirking faintly before he shook his head and started towards the sink. ”I do believe I owe you the trouble as it were.”

ulla