There aren't many stories about Braska's wife, and I think I might like to remedy that someday. I've named her 'Rika' - I was thinking of both Rikku and Tika when I thought this up, so... yeah. This is straight from my head to paper, so please excuse any errors.

And would anyone like to tell me why this came up when I was thinking about Braska and Auron? I wonder... ^^;


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"... and aren't you worried about what they're going to think about this?"

Braska deftly caught her in his arms, pressing their foreheads together and marveling again at her eyes. Tha paperthin swirls never ceased to fascinate him. "As long as I have you to support me, they can all be damned."

Shock filled her eyes, but then they were overtaken by the sunny laugh he could never get enough of. "You are something else, Braska. I can't believe you sometimes!" Her voice faded into a sigh, and she threaded her fingers into his hair. "But that's what I love about you, you know - that devil-may-care attitude of yours is very attractive."

He lowered his lids, narrowing his gaze. "Really?" A smile played at his lips. "Is there anything else on this list that I should know about for future reference?"

"Mmm..." Rika tugged at his hair, her mouth taking on that little, cat-like smirk. He kissed it away, let his lips linger just a hairsbreadth before touch, waiting for her response. "Nothing I'm going to tell you. Woman's priviledge, you know."

"And will this 'priviledge' get you in and out of Home fast enough that I won't have time to pine over your absence?"

She grinned, tongue sticking out between her teeth. "If you're good."

He raised an eyebrow. "I am being good."

The look he received stole his breath away, as dazzling as the Sanubian sands, and he found himself clutching her more tightly to his chest. He loathed to let her go, with the danger of Sin newly returned, and hanging like a pall over every horizon. It made his blood freeze. He didn't want her to live in a world like that, and yet... he knew he could not coddle her either. If he wrapped her in cotton and locked her in a closet... when would they have time to live?

Braska locked his lips to hers again, poured every fear and uncertainty into the union, and the love he couldn't quite find words to express. 'I know,' was all they ever said to each other; it was their own secret code, because a look could convey what a thousand words could not.

"Hurry back," he whispered, squeezing her as tightly as he dared.

Her green eyes danced. "You know I will."