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.



“Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, why do you trust me so much?” Eldon asked, swirling his water around in the goblet. His eyes seemed fascinated by the motion. “I am trustworthy, don’t get me wrong, but you seemed to accept my reliability very soon.”

“I sense what sort of man you are,” I told him, taking a rice crisp off of our communal plate. “You’re intelligent enough to know what I am without simplifying me for the sake of convenience or morals.” I paused to eat my chip, delighting in how the flavors in my meal seemed enhanced. Revenge was the best seasoning in the world. “You’re practical,” I went on. “You aren’t a gossip hound. You’ve made yourself nearly indispensable without involving either of our egos. You work hard.”

“Thank you for that,” Eldon said, setting his glass down. “But anyone could do these things and still not be trustworthy.”

“True, but I rely on my instincts, and my instincts like you,” I answered. “Are you going to eat that black bean dip?”

“Here,” Eldon said, pushing the bowl toward me. “I’m going to be frank and admit I’ve never seen anyone eat so much in my entire life.”

“It takes a lot of calories to power my body.”

“It must. How much do you weigh?”

“Three hundred and eighty six pounds.”

“Great Ifrit,” Eldon breathed.

“Mako-created muscle weighs more than ordinary muscle, slightly,” I defended. “My frame is large anyway. My shoulders are twenty inches across and my chest is fifty three inches around.” I smiled as I remembered my old tailor, who lamented all the work I gave him. “It makes clothing difficult to find,” I confessed.

“You’re certainly of god-like proportions,” Eldon muttered, looking at my left bicep. “If I may ask, is your development natural in any way? Your…sire is nowhere near your size.”

“I received perfectly balanced nutrition offset by scheduled starvation and athletic regimens. Additionally, I received both mako and J-cell injections. I don’t know the answer to your question.” I finished the dip and moved on to the salsa. “I don’t think I’m completely human.”

Eldon said nothing for a moment, but compared his watch to the clock above us. He then checked the time on his cell display. “You have thirty minutes before your date with Hojo,” he informed me.

I eyed him. “Eldon, does your work life stop at work or is your house perfectly organized and your refrigerator alphabetized?”

Eldon blushed. “I’m obsessive-compulsive,” he admitted. “I get a tranq for it.”

“Really? Is that why your pupils are so large?” I’d noticed Eldon’s unusually sized eyes on several occasions. I’d concluded drug use, but it didn’t mean shit to me if Eldon smoked a half ounce of mary jane every morning. He did good work, showed loyalty, and I liked him.

“Yes. It also gives me dry mouth and it takes me forever to release a piss. Opiates do that.” He put his phone away. “I realized I couldn’t work with the urge to count things or the compulsion to check outlets for overload, so I got a prescription. Now I can channel my urges into keeping paperwork orderly and fiddling with electronics technology.” He looked away from me suddenly. “Sorry. That was probably more information than what you wanted.”

“No information is ever wasted,” I answered. “I hope you don’t think being OCD is worse than being a murdering sociopath.” Eldon looked so apologetic over his unavoidable mental illness I felt compelled to point out who he ate lunch with.

Eldon considered me with wide eyes. “You couldn’t be a true sociopath. You aren’t above the board aggressive; just toward certain people.”

“Actually, I’m very much a sociopath,” I corrected. “But you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“A relief,” Eldon declared. “Sir, how did you discover that Hojo is…”

“A little flower told me,” I answered, cutting off his question before he could fully express it.

“Ah. I presume this flower knows for certain?”

“Flowers are wiser than anyone would guess.”

“And is the flower in good health?”

“The flower is blooming,” I said.

Eldon relaxed visibly. “Good. I hate greenhouse flowers.”

Meaning, flower girls behind glass…


***********************************************************************************


The moment I saw Sephiroth, I felt the change. He drifted gracefully down to the floor, his eyes already upon me. The air around him almost seemed to hum. Smiling in a very self-satisfied way he removed his jacket and tie, throwing them to the floor. Next came his shirt. He tore a little bandage off his inner elbow and threw it in the fireplace. “Hello, flower girl,” he greeted finally. His voice sounded richer, more resonant.

“Hi, Sephiroth,” I said, feeling very shy all of a sudden. “I cooked supper. Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry these days.” Sephiroth turned the gas jets on and lit them, burning his bandage. “Are you interested in a job?”

“A job?” I shook my head to clear it. “Really?” What had he been up to?

“Yes. Babysitting a seven year old girl from three in the afternoon until six evening.”

Now I felt very confused. “Who?”

“Her name is Lily Garchae. She’s my secretary’s daughter.” He gave another smile. “She also happens to be the little girl who sold me those roses. Small world.”

“Wow.” I walked into the kitchen, feeling Sephiroth right behind me. “I don’t mind babysitting if you trust the situation.” And I really didn’t. Having something to do sounded lovely.

“I trust Eldon.” Sephiroth strode to the stove. He scanned my various, steaming pots and grabbed the lid off of one. “Oh flower girl, what is this?” he asked, obviously appreciative of the smell.

“Lemon pepper clam-fish chowder,” I said, pleased he looked so pleased. “I serve it to you over rice and roasted corn.” I took the lid away from him. “You’re my guest, so you sit down.”

Sephiroth indulged me with a little amused spark in his already glowing eyes. The aura of smugness so pervaded him I wondered just what he’d gotten up to today. Well, he would tell me, eventually…

Carefully, I composed our meals. I set his plate down in front of him. Sephiroth took up chopsticks and quickly but gracefully put a bite in his mouth. His face melted in gratification. “Mmmm,” he mumbled. “This is so good I want to bolt it all down as fast as I can.”

“I’m glad you like it.” His enthusiasm made me suspicious, but I tasted it and found I’d done a good job. “I take it by your bandage you did something unpleasant today,” I said, trying to lead him into revealing what had him in such a lively mood. His disposition felt good, if slightly sinister, like the aura of gleeful mischief.

“I went for an examination with Hojo,” he said.

“Oh.” I lifted my brows. “What made you change your mind?”

“It occurred to me I was utterly safe to twist his balls, considering he wouldn’t want anyone to know he’s my father.” Sephiroth took three bites in a row in quick succession. “I’m going to visit him more often than he requests.” As he chewed, an iniquitous smile broke out on his sensuous lips.

I stared at him, almost lightheaded at how such an expression made him look. Demons in the pits of perdition couldn’t replicate such a mien standing over fresh prey. It was chilling and utterly, unexpectedly erotic. I’d gotten so accustomed to seeing his gentler side I’d nearly forgotten this side of him, the menacing nature lying close under the surface of his personality.

The beast had his own beauty…

“And I got rid of Sheila,” he added. “And I destroyed the microphones in my office.”

“A full day,” I said, starting to smile back.

“A satisfying day,” he replied. “But how do you feel, flower girl? Energy levels normal? Any pain?”

“No pain, and my energy is nearly full,” I answered.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Sephiroth finished his plate and went back for seconds. “I had lunch with Eldon today,” he said as he sat once more. “I thought it was the least I could do for making him endure seeing me rip some of Hojo’s hair out.”

I paused, chopsticks hovering before my open mouth. “You did what?”

“I ripped some of Hojo’s hair out and cut my initial in his forehead.” Sephiroth rolled his eyes slightly upward in happy remembrance. “I found it enjoyable but hardly satisfying.”

“Planet,” I muttered. “So this is the source of the good mood?”

“Mostly.” Sephiroth began to slow with his eating. “I suppose you’re quite disgusted?” A fleeting, worried expression flitted across his face before he settled back into a careful, stony mien. The idea that my opinion meant that much… It made me think carefully about my choice of words; I didn’t approve but…wasn’t it better for him to attack the sources of his pain than innocent people?

Sephiroth’s power could only be focused, not denied; I knew this instinctually. I could not assume the responsibility of making him ”well”, nor could I expect his violence to sleep in my presence. If I meant to keep him in my life I would have to face this. Facing it now meant less grief.

“I wouldn’t have done it but I’m not you,” I said finally, meeting his gaze, hoping he understood me. “I think it’s better if you channel your violent behavior toward those who deserve it instead of regular people.” It didn’t express what I wanted but I struggled with my words. This was uncharted territory.

Planet, but his eyes… They touched me in my very soul; beautiful, deep, luminous and wholly attentive. I fell into them, heedless of the danger. He affected me on so deep a level I barely knew of it.

“Flower girl,” he said quietly. “If you intend to ever take any part of me, you take this ugly part too.”

My breathing caught. Did he instinctually know my thoughts or did he hear them? “I know,” I said. “And I’ve said before that good and evil need each other.”

Sephiroth eyelids fluttered twice as he thought about my words. “Then you feel it too?”

In the pregnant silence I understood his meaning perfectly. We had an attraction. It seemed far too intense in moments, yet contradictorily comfortable. We danced with the idea of knowing each other. We wanted.

I raised my chin. “Your talk of larger and smaller flames didn’t go amiss.”

For a long, long moment we stared at each other.

“Why do I feel like I’ve just done something frightening?” Sephiroth asked, his tone serious underneath the playful light in his eyes.

“I feel the same way,” I confessed quickly, glad for the common ground.

“Then what are we scared of if not each other?” he concluded. “How you might be frightened is fairly obvious, but how do you frighten me?”

“I don’t know, of course,” I answered. “And what I find frightening might not be what you imagine, entirely.”

I feared how he made me feel, not the man himself. I wondered if that wasn’t his problem as well. He hadn’t used his emotions much, but I brought them out. I made him smile.

Again we dropped into expectant silence. Sephiroth slowly finished his meal while I picked at mine. He gathered our plates after it became obvious I didn’t intend to eat anymore, and carried them to the sink. “We forgot dish soap,” he observed flatly.

It was such an ordinary break to the pregnant silence, I giggled.

He shot me a quick smirk.

I loved his smiles. The turning of his lips transformed unholy beauty into beatific radiance. While he looked like that no one would imagine him capable of evil.

“I’ve come up with a plan for unsettling everyone in management,” he announced, washing our dishes in plain water. “It hinges upon Hojo, so I suppose I’ll keep him around awhile longer. I keep vowing his death to myself, you know, but what will I have to hate when he’s gone?” His whimsical tone betrayed how seriously he took that idea. “I don’t know if I need something to hate,” he went on, his white brows lowering. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t hate someone.”

“You’ll find out eventually,” I answered. “Don’t force it in either direction. I know I’d want to see honest emotion rather than a mask, even if the face underneath isn’t pleasant.”

Sephiroth dried the dishes carefully, appearing to think about what I said. When finished, he came back to me and sat in the chair beside of mine. I squeaked in surprise at my chair turning toward him; he hadn’t moved me with his hands. “Oh,” he said. “I sometimes forget that startles people.”

Distracted by this reminder of his powers, I got curious. “Just how much can you do with your mind?”

“A lot.” Sephiroth shrugged eloquently. “If I used my abilities often I’d get lazy.”

“Planet forbid,” I mocked a little. The thought of a lazy Sephiroth seemed so ridiculous.

“Laugh all you like,” he answered me, smiling with a hungry look in his eyes. “You’ll appreciate my drive, eventually.”

The sexual entendre struck me. I felt a blush burst under my skin. Turning my head, I looked downward.

“I take pleasure in this about you,” Sephiroth said softly, reaching out for my chin. He made me look at him, his grip gentle but inexorable. “You aren’t the only one who enjoys honest emotion rather than a mask. And you wear your blushes so well.”

Even more embarrassed, I fought to look away. But I stopped when I remembered I’d promised not to hide from him. Slowly, I lifted my gaze. Our eyes locked. Sephiroth’s mouth curled in pleasure even as his eyes praised me. “You’re brave, too, which I respect. You have my respect for many things.”

He curled his fingers around my jaw, his scorching and gentle touch stirring my blood.

“I know what I am, Aerith,” he said. “And I believe you know what I am too. I want to know who you are. Will you give me the time to find out?”

I had only one answer to give. “Yes,” I said. The scent of him, the hot, male musk that clung to his body, overpowered my mind. I drowned in his deep sea eyes. He could do what he wanted with me; I didn’t care. Surrender sounded lovely no matter how I imagined it.

“I’d seal that vow with a kiss if I thought I could stop,” he murmured.

Feeling mischievous in light of this wonderful, terrifying feeling, I leaned in and kissed his flawless cheekbone.

Gazing in wonderment, Sephiroth’s eyes caressed my face. “You’re such a sweet little thing,” he said, sounding awed. “So kind and unspoiled… I sometimes hesitate in touching for fear of spreading my taint to you.”

“Maybe a little taint won’t hurt me,” I said. “Maybe a little of us interchanging would make us both better people.”

Sephiroth tilted his head. His arm snaked out. I found myself straddling his lap, facing him. His right arm still around my waist, he cupped the back of my head with his large left hand. “There’s nothing amiss with you,” he murmured. “I’m sure I could stand some improvement, but you’re perfect.” He stroked my hair gently, twining his fingers in it afterward. “Everything about you is soothing, soft, or smooth,” he went on. “Your voice, your skin, your hair, your touch…” He sighed. “You shouldn’t ever feel small, flower girl; I’m very large but you plainly have my reins.”