You Can't Always Get What You Want – But Sometimes You Can

Lightning hated bars, and it had nothing to do with all the booze. It was the eyes that bothered her, the eyes that watched, and stared, and leered. It was almost as bad as being touched, and more than once, she'd walked into a bar, and imagined what it would be like to draw her gun blade, switch it into its gun form, and spin in a slow, lazy circle, the trigger pulled back as far as it would go.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Thankfully, she'd never actually done that. It wouldn't matter if she was famous, or if she had a lot of pull with the higher ups. Gunning down an entire bar's worth of civilians was not something the Guardian Corps could ignore. Her lips curled. Maybe she could claim they shot first? No. Amodar knew her a little too well for that.

"Here to pick up Fang?"

Lightning stopped. Turned. Scowled.

Lebreau stood beside the doors of her bar, her arms folded over her chest, a small, inscrutable smile on her lips. There was something about the other woman that had always bothered Lightning. It wasn't because she was one of Snow's friends. No, there were times when she felt like Lebreau could see right through her.

"Yes." Lightning frowned. "Is she almost done?"

Lebreau nodded. "Yeah. We're already closed for the night, all she has to do is lock up." She pushed away from the doors, and sashayed toward Lightning. "Do you want to know something interesting?"

"Interesting?" Lightning's jaw clenched. "Don't play games, Lebreau. It doesn't suit you. If you have something to say, say it."

Lebreau gave a throaty chuckle. "You're no fun, although I can see why she likes you." She put on a thoughtful expression. "She had a lot of attention tonight, Lightning."

"Attention?" Lightning stepped forward. "What do you mean attention?"

"People come here looking to have a good time." Lebreau glanced back at the bar. "Fang's friendly, nice, and pretty. Is it really such a surprise to hear that she gets attention? The girls love her, Lightning." She smirked and backed away, just out of Lightning's reach. "You'd better be careful or one of these days she'll be going home with somebody else."

"Fang is not going home with somebody else." The words came out in a snarl. "And you should stop talking right now."

"Fine, fine." Lebreau grinned. "I've said what I needed to say. Tell Fang I'll see her tomorrow."

Lightning said nothing as Lebreau turned, and walked off into the night. One of these days she was going to do something she'd regret. But perhaps that's what Lebreau wanted. The other woman liked to push people, liked to see how far they'd go.

With one last look at the night, Lightning turned, and pushed through the doors of the bar. A soft whisper of a song was playing inside, the words all but lost beneath the swelling, rising notes of an electric guitar. A faint smile crossed her lips. It was exactly the sort of song Fang liked, a curious mix of hard and soft, loud and quiet. Very much like the warrior herself.

But almost as quickly as Lightning noticed the song, she ignored it. Instead, her attention went to the bar, and to the lone figure swaying to the music as she wiped it down. Dear Etro, only Fang could make cleaning a bar look so damn alluring. The other woman's back was to her as she bent over, the cloth running over the polished timber of the bar.

The sweet curve of Fang's back was almost entirely bare, and Lightning was torn between wanting to throttle the other woman for wearing something so revealing – she hated the thought of anyone else looking at Fang – and wanting to shove the other woman against the bar so she could lick the beads of sweat that had gathered at the small of Fang's back. She could almost see it now. Fang would stiffen in surprise and then she would melt, go soft, and weak, as Lightning's lips traced the outline of her spine, and went up to tickle the back of her neck. It would be easy then, so easy, to just lean Fang against the bar, and then slip a knee between her legs, and after that –

"You're staring awfully hard at nothing. Tough day at work?"

Lightning jerked back. When had Fang gotten right next to her?

"You're jumpy tonight." Fang chuckled. "Well, have a seat. I won't be too much longer."

Intimately aware of how close the other woman was, Lightning nodded, and took a seat at the bar. Fang's presence was like a bonfire at the edges of her awareness. Burning. Burning. Burning. Any closer, and Lightning would catch fire – if she hadn't already. Maker, when had she gotten so pathetic?

For the next few minutes, she watched Fang finish tidying up. She'd always had an eye for detail, but now she hated how good she was at picking up all the little things. There was the sway of Fang's hips as she walked, the shift of muscle across her toned frame as she moved, and of course, the way her jeans clung to the best set of legs that Lightning had ever seen.

"Want something to drink?" Fang slipped into a seat beside her. "Non-alcoholic though, since you're the one driving us home."

Home. If that wasn't a loaded word, Lightning didn't know what was. After Serah had married Snow and moved out, Fang and Vanille had moved in with her. And she'd been going slowly insane ever since.

It was all Fang's fault. The dark haired woman seemed to have entirely different standards when it came to modesty. It wasn't unusual to find her lounging about the house in her underwear, or to find her walking around in nothing more than a towel after taking a shower. After bumping into her in the corridor for what felt like the hundredth time, Lightning had been a hair's breadth from just shoving Fang into the wall and ripping that towel off. The damn thing barely even covered her properly, and it was damp enough to hide absolutely nothing when it came to Fang's figure. What made it even worse was the gleam in Fang's eyes. The other woman wanted her to do that, wanted Lightning to lose control and just take her. And more and more, Lightning wanted that too.

It had gotten so bad that Vanille had taken to creeping around the house like a ghost. The poor girl was probably worried that she'd either walk in on Fang and Lightning trying to kill each other, or walk in on them doing something else that would most likely still involve a great deal of violence and screaming, albeit with a healthy – or perhaps unhealthy – does of pleasure thrown in.

"Cola." Lightning had to force the word out. "I'd like some cola."

"Sure." Fang poured each of them a glass of cola. "Well, how was your night?"

Lightning stared as Fang tipped her head back and took a long sip of her cola. The other woman's neck was a slender, graceful curve, and for a moment, all she could think about was what it would feel like to press her lips against Fang's throat. She trembled. She was turning into a pervert, a sex-obsessed pervert, and it was entirely Fang's fault. If only the warrior didn't look so good, if only she didn't grate on Lightning's nerves so much, then Lightning wouldn't have all these… fantasies.

"The usual." Lightning looked away, and downed most of her cola in one go. The liquid was cold, icy, but she barely tasted it. "Drunks. A few car crashes. A wild animal or two."

Fang laughed, and Lightning twitched at the sound. She'd heard that laugh a thousand times in her dreams, and almost as many times, she'd dreamed of cutting it off, turning it into a moan as she showed Fang exactly which one of them was in charge. But it was funny. She didn't feel like she was in charge. Her whole body was on autopilot, every muscle moving of its own accord as she turned and stared at Fang again. Fang knew, oh yes, she knew what she did to Lightning. There was a knowing gleam in those green eyes, and a smirk on those full lips.

"I had an interesting night myself." Fang traced the contours of her glass with long, slender fingers. Lightning could think of better ways to use those fingers.

"Lebreau told me you had a lot of attention tonight." Lightning's expression darkened. "Does that happen often?"

"A bit." Fang grinned. "One of the perks of the job, I guess. A lot of the girls coming in here are just looking for a good time, and if they have one, they come back."

Lightning wasn't sure that she wanted to know what a good time entailed.

"They're a little noisy, but they're not too bad." Fang caught and held Lightning gaze. "They know what they want, you see. And they're not afraid to reach out and take it. Take this blonde who came up to me tonight. She was a pretty little thing, Lightning, not tall, but she had curves in all the right places, and the kind of eyes that you can't help but look at. They were a lot like yours actually, blue, although hers were a darker blue than yours, and she smiled more."

Lightning had to pull her hand off her glass before she broke it. "And what did you do?"

Fang tugged a napkin out of her pocket. There was a number there written in lipstick. "In case I ever want to call her."

"Will you?" Lightning hated the undercurrent of carefully controlled fury that filled her voice. Fang wasn't hers – even if she should be.

"No." Fang shrugged. "I liked her eyes, but they weren't quite my style. They were too innocent. I could tell, just by looking, that she'd never had to fight for her life, that she'd never waded through the blood of her enemies. I'd scare her, Lightning. When she saw exactly who and what I was, I'd scare her. She seemed like a nice kid, but she's not what I'm looking for."

"And what are you looking for?"

"Someone who gets it." Fang's voice had darkened, taken a rough, almost brutal edge. Lightning liked the sound of it. It made her insides clench, and her breathing quicken. "I want someone who can look right into me and not be scared of what she finds, someone who'll stand up to me and show me that she's my equal. I won't have anything less than that, Lightning, I won't."

"There aren't a lot of women like that around." Lightning swallowed thickly. She could feel Fang's gaze on her, could feel the other woman eyes tracing her face, her collarbone, her chest. "You might be waiting a long time."

"I've waited a long time already, I can wait a little longer if I have to." Fang's eyes shimmered. "Besides, who's to say I can't indulge a bit while I wait." She smirked. "That wasn't the only number I got." She pulled out another napkin, and then another. "That one is from a red head – tall, leggy, and curvy. That other one? A brunette. Quiet, but you know what they say, it's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for."

Fang laughed, and Lightning's hand jerked across the counter and grabbed the napkins.

Rip. Rip. Rip.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Fang growled.

"I think you know exactly why I did that." Lightning pushed to her feet. The air was a million degrees, and she could feel the heat of it throbbing through her body.

"Do you now?" Fang got up as well, and Lightning shuddered as the other woman advanced until they are almost nose-to-nose. "Why don't you tell me?"

Lightning shoved Fang back, and she felt a thrill of anticipation run through her as the other woman's eyes narrowed. Good. She wanted Fang angry. She wanted Fang mad. She just wanted Fang.

"I've talked to Vanille about the Yun," Lightning said. "They were supposed to be great warriors."

"They were the best." Fang's jaw clenched, and Lightning could see the tension running through her.

"Vanille said that when they wanted something, they took it." Lightning shoved Fang back again, and felt her lips curve into a smirk as the other woman clattered into the bar. Good. She had nowhere to run, not that Lightning planned on letting her go anywhere. "But you're different."

"I –"

"Stop talking." Lightning put one hand on Fang's lips, and shivered when the other woman's tongue swept out to run along her index finger. "I know what you want, I've known ever since you moved in. But you haven't taken it."

"What I want, I can't take." Fang wrapped one hand around Lightning's wrist, and pressed her lips against the pink haired woman's knuckles. "Because it's the kind of thing that has to be given."

"And if I gave it to you? What then?" Lightning moaned as Fang began to trace small circles on the back of her hand with her thumb. Maker, something that simple shouldn't feel so good.

"It would have to be forever," Fang whispered. "You wouldn't get to take it back. You wouldn't get to wake up the next day and wonder if you'd made a mistake. It has to be everything, Lightning, or nothing at all."

"Everything?" Lightning laughed softly. "If I give you that much, I'd have to ask for the same in return. You wouldn't get to walk away either. You'd have to be mine and no one else's."

"That almost sounds like a proposal." Fang's hand trembled. "You know that, right?"

"I do." Lightning's lips curled. "And I'm telling you, right now, that if you want everything, you can have it. If you want forever, it's yours. I'm sick of this… this…" Lightning gave a growl of frustration. "You're driving me crazy, Fang, and I'm sick of it. I spent an hour in the shower today thinking up all the ways I could have you, and another hour at work wondering what it would be like to come home to you – not to the same house, but to you, because you're mine."

Fang's hands dropped, coming to rest on Lightning's hips. "I was kind of hoping you'd notice me."

"Well, I have." Lightning backed Fang up until the other woman was forced to sit on top of the bar, her legs parted just enough to let Lightning stand between them. "What's your answer?"

Fang leaned forward, their lips almost touching. "You keep asking me to take what I want, but it doesn't look like you're going to give me the chance."

"Oh, you'll get your chance." Lightning reached forward and grabbed hold of Fang's shirt. A quick tug and it was off, half a dozen buttons rolling across the floor. "But only after I've had mine. Sound fair?"

Fang's laugh turned into a moan as Lightning pressed against her. "You're lucky I like pushy women."

Lightning bared her teeth. "Believe me, I can be very, very pushy." Her hands ghosted along Fang's sides and along her back.

"Good." Fang relaxed, let Lightning take control. She'd take it back later, anyway. "Now how about we give Lebreau something to complain about?"


Lebreau unlocked the doors of her bar, and stepped inside. Her eyes widened. The place was a mess. Tables had been upturned, chairs had been thrown about, at least half a dozen broken bottles had been scattered around, and unless her eyes were deceiving her, the bar had been moved at least a foot or two back from where it was supposed to be, the bolts that kept it anchored to the floor all but torn out of their sockets.

"What the hell?" Lebreau bellowed. She reached for her phone and started to punch in a number. She was used to the bar being a little untidy, but it had been fine last night.

"Stop yelling."

"Ah!" Lebreau jerked back as Fang appeared from behind an upturned table. The other woman had the tattered remains of a shirt slung about her waist as a makeshift skirt, and a torn Guardian Corps jacket draped over her upper half. "You mind explaining this, Fang?"

"Not much to explain." Fang had the biggest damn smile on her face. "Lightning came and we talked. And then she came some more. And well, a little more after that. Oh, and then some more."



Lebreau gaped as Lightning Farron lowered the hand she'd hit Fang with, and tugged at the shirt that only barely managed to preserve her modesty. Her hair was a mess. In fact, it looked like a pink hedgehog had decided to die on top of her head. But what really got Lebreau's attention was the silly grin on Lightning's face.

Oh yeah.

"You two totally got it on, didn't you?" Lebreau grinned. "Wow. I mean wow." She looked around at her bar. "Do I even want to know what you two did?"

"Probably not." Lightning somehow managed to look regal despite the fact that she was practically naked.

"I see." Lebreau's lips twitched. "But you know, I'm going to have to ask you to pay for all the damage."

"Tch." Lightning scowled. "We'll pay." She and Fang shared a look. "It was worth it."

Lebreau chuckled. "Out of interest, who won?"


"You know, who was on top?" Lebreau's grin widened. "Who was the one in charge?"

Lightning and Fang stared at each other, and then spoke almost as one.



Author's Notes

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

So, this is a contribution to Fangrai February. Check it out at fangrai(dash)February(period)tumblr(period)com. It's based on Prompt #6: In which Lightning is picking Fang up from closing down Lebreau's bar, and while she's there Fang starts talking about other hotties at the bar and Lightning gets jealous and goads her into having bar sex with her.

These prompts are nice, since they give me a chance to just bang something out quickly (if you'll pardon the pun), without worrying about having to construct a huge, overarching plot that requires tens of thousands of words to bring to fruition (I'm looking at you Wasteland and Whispers of the Gods).

Some of you are probably disappointed that I didn't include the sex scene. Rest assured that I haven't cut it out because of the restrictions on this website. In fact, there is no version of this floating around anywhere that has the sex scene. My reasoning for that is as follows: nothing I could ever write could fill in the gaps as wonderfully as your imagination. How exactly did they manage to destroy the bar so completely while, as Lebreau puts it, getting it on? What were they doing (and who was doing who) to uproot the bar?

The ending is my answer to the question of: who is on top? The answer: it depends on who you ask. Either that, or both of them.

If you have the time check out my blog over at razieltwelve(period)wordpress(period)com.

As always, I appreciate your feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.