Paper Tiger Burning

I respectfully credit all Original Creators, namely Squaresoft, which became SquareEnix,for these characters. In this way, I pay homage to my Fandom's Original Creator, and illustrate my Community's belief that Fan Fiction is "fair use". I do not claim to own these characters. I do not make money or gil from using these protected characters, nor do I wish to make money or gil from them. In other words, I am borrowing these characters to entertain the adult fanfiction community, but I am doing so with the highest degree of respect to the engineers, game designers, music makers, and voice actors.




My simple, Shinra-paid apartment felt welcoming. I shed my jacket immediately, eager to be rid of the tight thing. I missed my leather trench coat, my habit of going bare-chested. Now I only wore the leather coat when out with the men. In the office I wore a suit.

A suit!

My necktie went over a lamp, my shirt over the settee. Clad in pants and low boots, I walked into the kitchen. Not bothering with the lights, I navigated the darkness for the refrigerator. For some reason these days I actually got hungry. But I preferred not to dine in the compound cafeteria where noise ruled, and I didn’t like the quality of the food anyway. I always waited until I got home to find something to eat. Here, I could savor a meal in relative silence.

Noise didn’t always bother me. I used to be able to ignore any amount of it. Now, sharp sounds and raucous laughter made me grind my teeth. Having painfully acute senses wasn’t always an advantage.

My eyes coasted over a container of soy milk. I grabbed it after a moment’s hesitation and simply drank from the container. The smooth, grain-based liquid seemed to upset my system much less than cow’s milk. Vaguely I remembered drinking gallons of regular milk as a child and young adult, but, like with so many things now, my tolerance had changed. Perhaps Hojo was on to something about my cell counts.

Shrill beeping interrupted my cold drink. I fished my cell out and looked at the cover window. I didn’t recognize the number. Shrugging, I put the phone back in my pocket. The noise of it almost covered up the sound of footsteps in the hall outside my apartment, but not completely. I held my breath as I listened. A familiar smell wafted under the living room door and traveled all the way to the kitchen.

Sheila Shinra.

I closed my eyes. The woman would not leave me alone. I was the ultimate trophy fuck to a female like her.

Her knock came seconds later.

Putting the milk back, I wiped my mouth on a dishtowel and returned to the living room. Concentrating, I felt for the woman’s life-form on the other side of the door. She had come for a visit alone; no other presence stood with her. Preparing myself for subtle ugliness, I opened the door.

I had to admit she was a beautiful woman. Her smooth, glossy blonde hair was the same shade as her brother’s, her eyes the same shade of brilliant, sky blue. She flashed her perfect, white teeth at me in a simulacrum of a smile, her body tilting to one side in what she meant to be a disarming, coy stance. “I knew you were home,” she said by way of greeting, holding up her cell phone. “I could hear my call.”

“There is something you require?” I asked, not particularly feeling like the dance we always did. From the moment of my resurrection she’d circled me like a shark. Now, six months later, I felt no more inclined to roll her than I would a farm animal. Her aggressive attitude turned me off completely.

I liked women who knew what they wanted, but I didn’t like it when a woman wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. And, like most men, I wanted to be the one to pursue.

She pouted prettily, pushing those full, expertly painted lips out in such a way that made me thing of fellatio. I suspected she knew a man would think along those lines and she designed her entire body language around subtle little controls such as this.

She wasted her plotting on me. I didn’t dare have sex with anyone not mako-engineered. Ordinary soldiers might be able to hold back their ardor long enough to get off without hurting their weaker partner, but not me. I lost control as soon as I started to relax. Under my paper tiger life I didn’t have any illusions that I would ever find release. Shiva help the first woman who twitched her tail at me once I snapped my restraints.

“Sheila,” I said softly. “Let’s not make a continuing game of this, shall we?”

“As you say.” Sheila pushed past me, her eyes roaming my untidy apartment. “By Odin, Sephiroth, don’t you have enough money for a maid?”

I had to be nominally polite to her. Her brother owned me, at least indirectly and through Hojo as well. I half-closed the door and joined her in the center of my living room. “I prefer not to have my privacy invaded,” I answered. “Now, what is it you require of me?”

Sheila laughed a short and brittle laugh. Flipping her hair, she thrust out her slender hip at me. “I want an escort to the opera,” she said, getting right down to it. “I couldn’t get a more attractive, capable date than you.”

“I’m flattered,” I said dryly.

“You should be,” she answered, her eyes flashing a bit. “Rufus said you were perfect and I agree.” She dipped her manicured hand down into her zolom-skin purse, bringing out a small card with a time and date written on it. Briefly I wondered how many of her brother’s men had died to get her a purse made out of a serpent known to swallow entire battalions of men in one pass.

I took the card. The date read two days from now at seven pm.

“Don’t look so stony in the face,” Sheila giggled. She dared touch my cheek with hands never once used for anything other than the softest pursuits. I shuddered openly. Her face changed to appreciation and I realized she’d mistook revulsion for its opposite. Of course, how could a man resist Sheila Shinra? She had riches, looks, power and influence.

Had I been free to act as I wished, I would have taught her a lesson. I couldn’t think of anything more fitting than to give her what she so obviously wanted. I’d break every bone in her body fucking her and then toss the bleeding mass out my three storey window.

“Warming up to me, are you?” Sheila moved closer. “You know, I was beginning to think I’d have to do something desperate, like talk to big brother. I’m glad you’re finally starting to see my charms.” Her arm wended around my waist.

I felt like a trapped animal. Gone were my skills at flirting, at subtly diverting a woman from her interest in me. I felt every muscle in my body tense, my pores opening to cool the sweat breaking out over my skin. Her scent made me sick, a cloying mix of heavy perfume, hair products and overly strong deodorant. The woman repulsed me, yet I could not find a reason suitable for escape.

“Sheila,” I said lowly. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me.”

“I know,” she whispered, pushing her pelvis against me. “You’re afraid for your position.” Her hands went to my hair, her fingers running through it leisurely. “You don’t understand how much more secure your position will be once you give in to me, Sephiroth. My brother listens to me.” She exhaled against my chest, rubbed her breasts against me wantonly. “I can make your position ever so much more stable.”

“I prefer not to ride you into a position of power,” I answered, taking a step back while hoping she wouldn’t advance any farther. The last time someone touched me so much I’d lost my control. I hated being touched. I hated her, too.

Sheila laughed. “I’d certainly prefer to ride you, though, General,” she breathed, reaching out to run a finger down the center of my chest. I couldn’t keep my muscles from coiling at her touch. Her eyes widened in approval. “That’s what I like about you, Sephiroth,” she confessed, dropping her hand to the waistband of my trousers. “You’re a beast. I’ll wager riding you is like riding a tsunami.”

I caught her wrist. With maximum effort I managed not to squeeze. “Let me be utterly frank,” I said, lowering my voice. “I’d probably destroy your cervix and shatter your pelvis.”

Sheila shivered, but not in fear or revulsion. I had to give her credit for bravery. Or foolishness. They often amounted to the same thing.

“Really?” She eyed my crotch greedily. “How have you satisfied your desires, then? Is it true you super soldiers turn to each other for sex?”

“Many do,” I admitted. “So you see I am helpless to give you what you want. I would most likely kill you.”

“What a shame.” Sheila gave a mighty sigh. “Well, I’ll have to think of something I suppose.” She ran her eyes over me one more time before walking for the door. “I’ll come by here about six thirty on Friday,” she called over her shoulder. “We can take your vehicle to the opera.”

“I don’t own a car,” I said.

“I suppose you’ll have to get one, then,” she replied, shutting the door behind her.

Bitch.

Appetite gone, I stripped as I went to my bathroom. My anger boiled just under the surface. Was this what I had been reduced to, a desk jockey and a prostitute for Shinra? I turned the shower on full heat and stepped into it, nearly scalding myself but uncaring. I scrubbed viciously, desperate to get Sheila’s phantom touch off my body.