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Tomorrow's Promises	By : anyasy Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy XII Views: 960 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Tomorrow's Promises
- 1
October 28
Jam tomorrow

[A/N: To my surprise, the phrase �jam tomorrow� (at least on
google search) seems to mean �a promise that will likely never be kept�. Curious! XD I appear to have a somewhat
imprecise grasp of the English language, especially where it has to do with
slang. Oh wells, that makes the writing
of slash so much easier� the phrase, that is.
I was considering writing this as an �After everything� fic, but since I
don�t know what�ll happen in the end (though I expect a beautiful, proper FF
twist at the end of it all!) I decided not to presume. XD Instead, here�s an AU
(I know, I know, I should be smacked).
Tried not to make this PWP but failed.
I blame the archaic speech, it brings out the worst in me.

Also, it seems I made a mistake in an earlier fic � Basch�s
name is �fon� Ronsenberg, not von.
Lol. It sounds a little silly,
but I guess not as silly as Balthier�s surname(s)� Bunanza? Fframfran? Indeed. Is that last one even pronounceable?

Final note: I seem to have misspelled a lot of the places in
the last few fics (and probably here, as well). : / I keep forgetting to double-check between the game, Wiki and
walkthroughs�]

Tomorrow�s promises

General Basch fon Ronsenberg sank back against the cushioned
chair, glad that he had chosen not to wear his dress armor today while
attending the war meeting � instead, the sober black ceremonial long jacket
uniform that was far more comfortable than it looked. He picked absently at the heavy embroidery on the tapering cuffs
as he listened to the other members of the government endlessly debate policy �
at the head of the table, King Raminas looked bone-weary. War was coming � Archadia was massing a
fleet at the borders, and all reports suggested that it had set itself to add
Dalmasca to its empire.

And so� endless discussions about defense, tactics and
military policy, all with the ugly, deep-down knowledge that Dalmasca could not
possibly withstand the might of Archadia � everything discussed here, now,
couldn�t change that fact. He could see
this knowledge written into the increasingly strained expression that the King
wore, and the haunted look that occasionally crept into Vossler�s face. The only man at the table who seemed
blissfully free of this logic was Prince Rasler, with the ingrained happiness
of a newly-wed, passionate as he spoke of aid from Nabradia.

Even Nabradia and Dalmasca together would not be able to
stand against the Empire. Basch felt
his helpless frustration with the inexorable fact combine with his exasperation
over the council, and found himself wishing for the simplicity of the sword and
the battle, or the monotony of parade, and he wondered where Balthier was. Ever since the hint of war had begun to
threaten Dalmasca, Balthier�s visits to Ramanastre had become fleeting and
unpredictable. A sky pirate like he
would not thrive when the endless blue was filled with warships, after all, and
he had mentioned, vaguely, perhaps going south, at least until the dust
settled.

And then, rather unfairly, Basch thought, he had looked at
him, asking the question with piercing brown eyes that looked through to his
soul, saw his answer before he could speak, smiled, wryly, and flew out of his
life again. Come with me � I can�t.

No, he could not run from his country, even when facing a
war they could not win.

Drifting off, he blinked when one of the elderly ministers
said, sharply, �General Ronsenberg.�

�Yes?� he sat up a little straighter, and then rubbed his
eyes when Vossler grinned, faintly. �I
apologize, my mind wandered for a scant moment. I have not��

�General Ronsenberg has not had the luxury of much rest,�
Vossler was quick to excuse him, �He has been up far too many nights studying
maps and strategy, I am afraid.�

Somewhat mollified, the minister repeated his question �
something about supplies on the front line.
Basch was about to reply with his normal cut-and-dried patient
explanation (theory often didn�t sit well with the delay supply ships sometimes
faced, in a desert country plagued with sandstorms), when the double door to
the council room swung open. Rising to
his feet, startled, Basch stifled a groan of exasperation.

Balthier wandered into the room, looking for all the world
like a curious tourist � he inclined his head to blinking royalty (too well
bred to show any other hint of shock), mock-saluted Vossler (who wore a
carefully blank expression, though his lips kept twitching upwards) and stuck
his thumbs into his gunbelt, just as the guards all but spilled into the room
after him.

�Majesty, your Highness, honorable sirs,� the first guard
started, beet red with embarrassment, �We apologize � we tried to stop him, but
he said he had a message of great importance for General Ronsenberg, and would
not listen to reason.�

�Oh. Well. If it is indeed of great importance�� King
Raminas waved a hand, dismissively, though Basch abruptly had the distinct
impression that those wise old eyes masked understanding and some
amusement.

Gods. Did everybody
know?

�Thank you, your Majesty,� Balthier said blandly, and
sauntered over to Basch�s chair, cupping his hand over his ear and
whispering. Then he smirked, bowed
playfully to the council, and left just as casually as he had entered.

Basch was distinctly glad that he wasn�t a blushing
man. He took a deep breath, then said,
glad that his voice was controlled, �Something of essential significance has
indeed come up, your Majesty. May I be
excused?�

�Of course,� King Raminas inclined his head graciously.

�Don�t stay up too late,� Vossler said, dryly, and chuckled,
when Basch flinched.

Someday, he would find a way to kill that man�

--

He found Balthier in his bedchambers, curiously fingering
(as he�d thought) a heavy emerald ring � a gift from Prince Rasler�s father for
aid in defence of Nabradia, sighed, and locked the door. �Should it not be beyond even one such as
yourself to steal from your lover?�

�Aren�t you supposed to be in a meeting?� Balthier countered
(though he did put down the ring), as Basch walked up to him, slipped arms
around his waist and pulled him back against his frame. The sky pirate relaxed, with a soft
purr.

�I would not have been able to concentrate for the rest of
it anyway,� Basch murmured into wiry brown hair. �You�re incorrigible, Balthier.�

�The original message was that I expected you to buy me a
drink at the Sandsea after you were done,� Balthier tilted his head to watch
him out of the corner of his eye.

�And that couldn�t wait until the meeting was over?�

�Well,� Balthier smirked.
�I ran into Captain Levin on the way up, and he told me how you had
complained earlier, somewhere along the lines of slowly suffocating to death
under polite diplomacies and abstract theory? So I thought I might as well
provide some passing relief.�

�I did not complain,� Basch protested. �I merely told Captain Levin that I did not
quite see the point of the council. He
embellished.�

�Of course,� the sky pirate drawled, �Far be it for General
Basch fon Ronsenberg to commit such a faux pas as to grumble about his
lot in life.�

Basch nipped at his lover�s ear, in reproach. �So how did the original message turn into��
he cocked his head, recalling the sultry words breathed into his ear, � �I want
you to fuck me against the door to your bedchamber until I beg you to stop�?�

Balthier chuckled at the dry way the salacious suggestion
had been repeated, his eyes half-lidding, and he smirked as he looked back over
his shoulder. �Well?�

�You didn�t answer.�

The sky pirate picked at the hem of his tapering
sleeve. �Why is it I haven�t seen you
wear this before?�

� �Tis new,� Basch admitted, looking down briefly at the
uniform � a collared jacket with no inner shirt out of respect for Dalmasca�s
heat, the sleeves tapering into graceful pennants just below the elbows to
brush at the wrists, the jacket slit at the hips and at the lower back into
four heavily embroidered flowing fabric; loose black breeches, embroidered down
outer thighs, tucked into brown boots.
�I felt it was certainly not necessary to have to undergo the
troublesome business of putting on dress armor simply to sit around a table and
converse.� Blandly, �I take it you
approve.�

�Would you like me to show you exactly how much I approve?�

�Very well.�

Balthier twisted around in his arms, and with an oddly
boneless roll of his hips, ground the swells in their breeches together in a
way that made Basch gasp. He arched an
eyebrow. �So much tension?�

�It�s been a month,� Basch said, from behind clenched teeth,
as a wicked tongue rubbed over his throat.
�And three days.�

�Count the hours, too?�

Basch growled, slipping one hand down to Balthier�s
leather-clad rump and forcing their hips together more firmly � his other hand
tangled in short brown hair and pulled him into a hotly possessive kiss,
crushing lips together and darting his tongue into the other man�s mouth. Balthier was mewling, in just that
tone that made Basch moan in response, his blood warming, the loose-fitting
jacket suddenly feeling too hot.
�Missed you,� he admitted roughly, when they broke, gasping, for
air.

Balthier stared at him, dazed, for a moment, his mouth
opening to say something likely along the lines of because you won�t follow,
which would have killed the mood � then he seemed to shake himself � the smirk
returned, and he flicked his tongue over Basch�s lips. �I�ve been experimenting.�

�Experimenting?�

�The sex seems better when the period of absence is longer,�
Balthier said, his lip quirking wider.

Basch blinked � he had long thought himself immune to
Balthier�s tendency to say the filthiest things in a matter-of-fact manner �
but it seemed it was not so. He took a
deep breath, then realized he was still unable to find words to appropriately
respond to that, his expression darkening. �You� you��

Balthier grinned.
Basch found the appropriate response was indeed to kiss away the
smugness � appreciative, throaty purrs informed him that this was exactly what
Balthier had wanted in the first place, that manipulative cad, though
his ire melted away as the sky pirate began to rub insistently against him,
replaced instead by heady lust, the boredom and chafing helplessness of the
council meeting forgotten; the stress from the gathering storm � there was only
a warm body in his arms that writhed against him just so, and
enthusiastic mewls at forays into his throat.

He walked Balthier backwards and up against the door, glad
that he had won the argument against Vossler months back about the
ludicrousness of having guards posted to his chambers, fingers working with
practiced ease at the buckles of the sky pirate�s vest. Balthier wasn�t helping � his fingers petted
over the stiff, starched fabric of the jacket, traced embroidery at the neck,
rubbed down over his sides, and cupped Basch�s neck with cool flesh, seemingly
all at once, exploratory, curious, and teasing.

When the vest finally fell to the ground, Basch found that
he was no longer in the mood to be gentle � despite protests, Balthier�s shirt
lost a few buttons just before it too was discarded, and Basch applied teeth to
the pleasure of marking his lover�s shoulders with bites that must have stung �
the sky pirate was wriggling, gasping, fingers now tangling in his hair. More bites on scarred, tanned skin, gentler
ones, over nipples, and Balthier was arching and keening, the grip on his hair
becoming painful. �Basch!�

�I�ve a mind to punish you, Balthier,� Basch growled,
rubbing his tongue over reddening nipples, �For a month�s worth of
frustration.�

Balthier laughed, breathlessly, the fingers in Basch�s hair
relaxed and attempted to work, trembling, on the first silver catch of the
dress jacket. �Be my guest.�

�Punishment isn�t meant to be enjoyed,� Basch informed him,
having more luck with Balthier�s belt than the pirate was with his own
clothing. The holsters soon joined the
vest and shirt on the ground, and he splayed fingers over a warm back.

�I�m aware of that,� the pirate retorted, with a smirk,
�After all, it�s part of the definition.� With that, he sank slowly to his
knees, and pressed a kiss over the ridge in black breeches. Then a gentle nip that made Basch
instinctively brace himself against the door, and choke.

�Balthier��

�I was supposed to show you how much I appreciate this
uniform, wasn�t I?� A brief suckle over suddenly too confining fabric caused a
groan.

�Not by ruining it� ah��

�Don�t tell me this is your only one,� Balthier said,
working at buttons, then yanking breeches and underwear down to his knees,
studying the freed, flushed prick with interest with a low whistle. �And I haven�t even started.�

�If you don�t start soon��

�You will what?� the sky pirate prompted innocently, as he
slowly lapped his way up the painfully hard member, chuckling at the moans that
caused, then gripped Basch�s hips as he stroked his tongue over and around the
head, sucked lightly, then chuckled again, as Basch let out a low oath. �Language, General.�

�Balthier!�

�All right,� Balthier smirked up at him, and the sight of a
pink tongue pressed briefly against the reddened head caused him to stiffen and
groan. �How about I take the edge off
for you?�

�Seeing as it�s your fault��

�That�s not particularly fair,� Balthier said,
reproachfully, but obliged, taking Basch�s need into exquisite heat, inch by
inch, until the head bumped against the back of his throat. Too wound up to last, Basch concentrated
instead on remaining as still as he could, not wanting to choke the sky pirate,
allowing Balthier to adjust, his breath rasping out through clenched teeth,
then he moaned �Balthier�� when he felt suction, a pleasure so intense
that it was dizzyingly painful. �Ah� Balthier��

When the sky pirate hummed, Basch felt the building
pressure, and gasped, �Too much� Balthier� uhh�� He ducked his head, as his
lover pulled back, slender fingers instead stroking, squeezing, and Basch bowed
his back, slamming his fist into the door, as completion overwhelmed him with
blinding ecstasy, with a deep, strangled moan; spots over his vision, and
trembling shocks of lust-pleasure that arrested all thought.

His knees felt weak, as Balthier lapped him clean and stood
up carefully between braced arms, looking exceedingly self-satisfied, licking
his lips. �Better?� he inquired, with a
lazy smirk.

Basch stared at him for a long moment, as he forced his
breathing under control, willing strength back into his legs, then he growled,
�Stay here.� He pulled breeches up to his waist, though he didn�t do up the
buttons, stalking a little unsteadily over to the bedchamber proper attached to
the parlor, and finding what he wanted in one of the drawers of the
dresser.

He pocketed the first item, but held the other in his palm
as he returned, to behold the stunningly erotic sight of Balthier, breeches
undone, shaft free, languidly stroking himself � lips quirked, when he noticed
Basch, and his eyes fell down to the bottle of oil in the General�s hand. �Prepared, I see.�

�I never know when you may visit,� Basch said, with just the
faintest hint of censure, feeling his just sated prick twitch, as he pressed
himself against the other man again, using his free hand to rub hot flesh
together until he felt himself swell.

�Ah. Well, you know
how it is,� Balthier said, his voice hitching, his eyes closed, hands falling
to his sides. �We ran into a little
engine trouble south of the Sandsea. Not
much fun, I can tell you, wondering if the winds would blow us into the Jagd.�

�That can�t have caused a month�s worth of delay,� Basch
muttered, lightly suckling a pierced lobe, running his tongue over where metal
joined with flesh � the pirate gasped.

�The rest of it was business. Robbing, stealing, even some semi-legitimate� ohh� trading. Fran acquired a new bow.�

�Excuses.� Basch jerked down Balthier�s breeches, oiled his
fingers a little shakily (there would be suspicious stains, on their clothing,
after they were done) and began to rub teasingly over the puckered entrance �
the sky pirate wriggled, sucking in his breath with anticipation, his fingers
locking in Basch�s stiff collar.

�I do have to� earn a living�� Balthier gasped out, between
insistent rolls of his hips, flesh becoming slick between them.

�Strange way to classify thievery,� Basch murmured, as he
pushed fingers into velvet heat blessedly tight from a month of abstinence,
listening to the choked, edgy mewls.
Pirate and outlaw he may be, but Balthier at least understood
faithfulness � a concept that never failed to gratify the General � as a
reward, he thrust his fingers deeper, locating the nub of flesh with practiced
ease, and stroking. Balthier�s mewls
melted into open-mouthed moans, and Basch took advantage of that to kiss
the other man again, more roughly than before, thrusting his tongue down his
throat in time with his fingers, adding a third, knowing that his jacket was,
by now, likely ruined anyway, how Balthier was bucking so desperately against
him, hips snapping between fingers and slick heat.

Suddenly, the sky pirate pulled back, his head thumping
against the oak door, and he choked, �Stop, or I�m going to� aah, stop.�
Trembling fingers closed over Basch�s wrists.
�Want you� want you inside��

�Aren�t you supposed to be undergoing punishment?� Basch
inquired, his voice strained despite it.

�No final requests?� Balthier bared teeth in a feral grin.

Basch chuckled, his breath hitching, eyes darkening with
want, pulling out slicked fingers. �Turn around, then.� A growl, as Balthier
complied with a haste that mollified, somewhat, his earlier exasperation with
the infuriating man, �Eager.� He ground his need between the cleft of
Balthier�s rump, listened to the impatient whine, applied the rest of the oil,
and dropped the vial.

�Faster,� Balthier urged, bracing himself against the
door by his elbows, submissively allowing Basch to guide him back and spread
his legs a little wider � the General wrapped an arm around a slender waist,
for support, his other hand guiding the head of his shaft to the oiled opening.

�Now. I�m going to�
make good on your request�� Basch whispered, as he pushed through muscle in a
careful slide. �Until you beg me to
stop, wasn�t it?�

�Y-yes�� Balthier swallowed, then growled and pushed back
insistently, growling when Basch held him fast.

�At my pace,� Basch said, flatly, �It�s punishment.�

Balthier tensed, then bowed his head, with a whine. �Please.�

Basch arched an eyebrow.
Usually, he had to force Balthier to beg � that made his prick pulse,
even in the exquisite, slow slide into snug heat. �So desperate?�

�Aah�� Balthier tried abortively to roll his hips, his
fingers going down to pluck uselessly at Basch�s arm. He whined again, when Basch stilled. �No!�

�Your hands stay on the door,� Basch purred, in between
heavy panting � he had to remind himself consistently of exactly why he wanted
to punish the sky pirate to muster the will to actually do so. Balthier cursed him, stumbling over the
words, but obeyed. In reward, he pushed
all the way in to the hilt, as deep as he could, waiting, until there was an
insistent, unsatisfied growl under him.
Even then, he didn�t move immediately � instead nipping at the tensed
muscle of the arched back, licking the valley of the spine, brushing lips over
scar tissue. Balthier knew better than
to complain � instead he endured it with whimpers and mewls, muscles twitching
under the attention.

Eventually, he began to thrust � pulling out nearly to the
tip, and sliding back into exquisite heat, slow and deep, knowing it wasn�t the
sort of pace Balthier enjoyed, though the sky pirate still gasped, whenever the
thick head hit that spot just with enough force to tease out a
yelp. He kept a bruising grip on
shuddering hips, ignoring the dripping shaft, taking his time, then realizing,
as Balthier began to groan his name in that tone, that even this languid
pace would be enough � the pirate was too close; it had been too long. He stopped, buried to the hilt, at that
point, and smirked at the gasp and the wriggle.

�Please!�

�Punishment,� Basch reminded him, whispering into his ear,
rocking gently, the hand at the hip moving for a moment to his jacket pocket
and taking out the other item he had taken from his rooms, waving it in front
of Balthier�s nose. �Put this on.�

Balthier�s eyes widened, then he looked back quickly over
his shoulder, pleadingly � but Basch shook his head, steeling himself to be
merciless. The pirate stilled,
breathing deeply, then began to chuckle, breathlessly. �Someday I�ll like to know how� the dignified
and respectable General�uhh� Basch fon Ronsenberg� got his hands on
something� like that��

�Wouldn�t you,� Basch agreed, leaning over to nip at a
pierced ear. �Well?�

Resignation. �This is
punishment.�

�As I said.�

�Would it help if I said� I was sorry, and meant it?�

�Not particularly.
But we stop now, if you refuse.�

Balthier took a few more deep breaths, then he plucked the
two halves of the carved metal ring from Basch�s fingers, a little shakily, and
fastened it around the base of his shaft, muttering darkly as he did so, about
hidden streaks of sadism. When it was
secure, he put palms back up against the door, shuddering. Satisfied, Basch pressed a kiss to the nape
of the sky pirate�s back, inhaling the scent of sweat and musk, and began to
thrust, roughly now, the way Balthier preferred it � sharp, shallow snaps of
his hips, angled just so, making the sky pirate cry out at each deep
moment of union, clawing at the door, unable to find release.

When he felt too close himself, Basch slowed, pulling
himself off the edge, wanting to draw this out for as long as he was able �
Balthier was begging, incoherently, at that point, in filthy street cant,
desperate need overriding dignity, �Please Basch� I� I want to come� please��

�I� am going to make sure you can�t� walk, for a week,�
Basch growled in response, though he felt himself pulse, at the low, broken
moan with which Balthier greeted his assertion.

Eventually, he could feel himself beginning to tire a little
too much � he grunted, and changed the pace, again, sharper, harder, unable to
register the choked, hoarse stream of words from Balthier�s throat, his fingers
groping down for the catch in the ring, chuckling breathlessly as the pirate
tensed. �Of course�� he muttered, his
tongue feeling thick in his mouth, �Only if you� are properly penitent��

Balthier tried to speak � Basch could see his throat working
� but failed, nodding desperately instead, his breath emerging in sobbing
gasps. Satisfied, the General thumbed
the ring open, combining it with a brutally deep thrust, and a rough jerk at
the sky pirate�s swollen prick, and Balthier arched against him with a lovely,
strangled shriek as orgasm hit him, shuddering, then going bonelessly limp in
his arms, harsh, panting breaths. Basch
waited for what seemed like eternity until Balthier bucked weakly back against
him, in assent � it took two more short, sharp thrusts before he pressed
himself against a sweaty back, heedless of the damage to his jacket, and shot
into tight flesh with a harsh snarl, dizzy and struggling to stand upright, his
vision darkening for a moment, bracing his free hand against the door.

Silence, and uneven breathing � eventually Basch drew back,
then hastily pulled Balthier�s arm over his shoulder, as the other man stumbled
� dazed brown eyes � semi-conscious.
Somehow, he managed to get the both of them to the bed, not even
bothering to attempt to remove the rest of their clothes (straps and buttons,
too difficult at this point), pulled the other man up against him, and slept
without dreams of death, for the first time in a month.

--

When he woke, the sun was well on its way to its afternoon
zenith, and Balthier had stolen most of the blankets, wrapped in a gently
snoring lump to a corner of the bed.
Basch chuckled, winced as it hurt his throat, and began peeling off
now-uncomfortable clothing. Disentangling
the pirate enough to do the same was somewhat more difficult, but eventually
the last sandal-boot was dumped on the ground, and Basch began kissing the
scarred back.

Eventually, there was a sleepy mumble, a yawn, a catlike
stretch, then a wince. Sore. Basch smirked. �Good morning.�

�Is it still morning?� Husky with sleep, hoarse to a
whisper. Balthier looked up at the
window, muttered to himself, and burrowed back under the blankets. �Wake me up in a week. I don�t think I can move until then.�

Basch pulled Balthier up against him again � the other man
struggled, a little weakly, hands pushing at his arms, then gave up, pillowing
his head on a shoulder. �You stink.�

Basch stroked silky brown hair, absently. �Mm.�

Another muttered oath, then a wince. �Did you have to be so rough?�

�Sorry.� Basch petted a shoulder. �I�ll steal something from the infirmary later.�

A sigh. �I suppose
it�s just as well.�

�Oh?� He tensed. He
had been waiting for this conversation to take place ever since the hint of war
had started, after all, but disappointment and pain still twisted a cold knot
in his stomach.

Balthier tilted his head up, to look into his eyes. �Guessed?�

�You alleged so before.
You�re leaving, then.� He sounded calmer than he felt.

�Until the war is over.
Maybe even after, depending on the state of things.� Balthier tilted his
head. �My bounty over in Archadia is
about twice that of Dalmasca�s.� A smirk.
�Though being General Basch�s lover seems to make the latter symbolic, at
best.�

�Yesterday you pushed your luck,� Basch poked him in the
shoulder.

�Wouldn�t do to make my last visit forgettable,� Balthier
said, playfully, to take the sting away from his words. He looked carefully at Basch�s expression,
then slumped on the bed and closed his eyes.
�Basch. Come with me.�

�You know I can�t.�

�No, you think you can�t.
Dalmasca cannot win this war.
You must know that. You could
die. Probably will � or captured �
worse. It�s pointless. Come with me.�

�And just because of that I should abandon my
responsibilities and the people who need me?� Basch pressed a brushing kiss to
Balthier�s forehead. �I�m not afraid of
death.�

�I know you won�t,� Balthier sighed. �I just thought I�d ask, anyway. By the way, Fran�s opinion was that we
kidnap you, so, don�t walk around by yourself at night. I did explain patiently why that wouldn�t be
too good an idea, but she was remarkably evasive this morning.�

�Don�t worry,� Basch grinned, with an optimism he didn�t
particularly feel. �I�ll be fine. My word on it.�

�Hmph.� Balthier didn�t look up at him. �Might as well get me to promise to stay out
of trouble.�

A wry chuckle.
�Trouble was how I met you.
Sneaking into the Palace vault to steal the Dusk Shard, indeed.�

�Sometimes it still amazes me how we progressed from then to
now,� Balthier murmured, then propped himself up on his elbows. �Very well then, General. You give me your word that you�ll survive
the war, and I�ll give you mine that I�ll stay safe and come back afterwards,
at which time I expect you to have taken a leave of convalescence to properly
appreciate the thought.�

Basch inclined his head.
For empty promises, they soothed his nagging unease. Whatever the war could bring, at least
Balthier would be somewhere south, free and far away. �Agreed.�

-fin-
- 1
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Tomorrow's Promises

Tomorrow�s promises