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.



I felt him return. I couldn’t hear his footsteps but I knew he walked around in his living room, directly above me. His energy resonated restlessness, doubt, and anger.

He couldn’t be this upset over Sheila, could he?

I cooked for two even though I had no idea if Sephiroth would join me. He generally seemed to want a meal but I wondered if his stomach could handle anything. The drug I’d half-purged from his system left harsh physical effects. I’d only left that other half so his charges would stick against the lascivious Sheila.

She’d come closer to truly incapacitating Sephiroth than anyone else, barring Cloud. I knew better than to underestimate a female, but apparently Sephiroth hadn’t ever encountered one so aggressive. Jenova didn’t count, being an entity more than anything. But seeing Sephiroth lying underneath Sheila Shinra, helpless, had sparked such anger in me.

I would never, ever tell him, but he’d looked like an innocent little boy, gazing up into the eyes of a predator. Sometimes he looked like a child in his eyes, but not like that, not vulnerable and confused. It took none of my imagination to picture him in the labs, giving Hojo that look as the scientist clinically examined and experimented on him.

Sephiroth had pure emotions, though usually concealed.

I put mushrooms on to sauté and checked my crab cakes. Almost done. Taking up the cooked spaghetti squash, I began abrading the noodly center into a bowl. I’d lightly fry it with sesame oil and toss it with a little bit of soy.

I enjoyed cooking, truly. It satisfied me to play around in a kitchen, especially one as well stocked as this. Sephiroth had spared no expense stuffing my refrigerator and cabinets.

I felt him behind me as I worked, though I hadn’t heard him drift down to my apartment. He never made much noise, not even while speaking. I pretended I didn’t know he was there, letting him get his bearings and decide how to approach me. He still didn’t quite seem to know what to think of me sometimes. I suspected he cherished our opposing natures just as I did, but I also wondered if we shared the reason.

I turned and he stepped into the shadows. If I hadn’t known of his presence I would have missed his movement entirely. Sometimes his grace gave me the shivers. He knew every part of his own body.

I stood over the wok, mixing the mushrooms in with the spaghetti squash. The aromas made me so hungry. I hoped Sephiroth would come out soon and join me. I didn’t think I could eat while he silently watched me from across a room. The intense pressure of his gaze made me want to turn around now and seek him out, but I feared that as much as wanted it.

I found it strange I could sleep almost underneath him, reveling in his big, protective body, yet find myself nervous while confronting him vertically. After all, his size didn’t change nor did he vary his approach. It didn’t make sense.

I felt his body heat hitting my shoulder blades and backside; he’d come up behind me and stood bare inches away. The masculine scent of him made me weak. I swallowed hard, my stirring faltering. Raw need radiated from him, unrefined, barely contained lust. It hit my mental shields hard enough to batter them down. I stopped breathing as his arm and hand came around to take the stirring tongs away from me.

He enclosed me. One arm tended the meal and the other braced upon the stove, hemming me in without touching me.

Did he know what he did to me?

I wanted to say yes, to feel as if he might be toying with me, but I doubted myself. He had more experience than me by far, yet I knew the idea of a relationship was all new to him.

That arm scooped me inward. Sephiroth danced me backward. In a smooth and seemingly effortless movement, he sat me on my own kitchen counter. Two flashes of his hands and he’d turned off both the range and the stove. Facing me, he stepped in between my parted legs and just stared upward.

I could look down on him from this height, though not by much. He drew me into bottomless pools of beryl. I felt his desire as a desperate thing now, as a means by which to distract and forget. It frightened me, but not because I felt unsure of receiving him. It frightened me because he wasn’t the type to use physical pleasure to process pain.

Something horrible had shaken his foundations.

I leaned down and kissed his forehead.

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

She could kiss the forehead of the man who killed her and ruined the lives of her closest friends, no other motivation in her soul but compassion. The flower girl…

So precious.

So good…

I met her eyes, wondering how a creature like this could even walk the planet. My unsteady feelings about Hojo had torn me, ripped me open to pain and regret, to wrath and loss. She had misery too, much of it related to me, yet she could open her heart to me, show herself openly. She had strength to do this.

I longed to have the same kind of strength. My power came in wiles and brute force, in blood and demand. Hers stole in like a thief, taking without a struggle.

I stepped back slightly. She grabbed my shoulders and used me for a brace to hop down. “Want dinner?” she asked quietly.

I nodded.

Aerith made our plates and we sat down. My appetite aroused, I gladly ate her tasty offerings. The food seemed to soothe the nasty, burning hole in my stomach. I ate instead of talking, instead of spilling my guts about Hojo and guilt and loneliness and memories of the lab.

She served me hot tea afterward and a cup of pom-ne-kah. Startled, I inspected her layering of the medicine. She’d done it perfectly. Feeling grateful, I gave her a weary smile and took it slowly into my system. My world muted to softness, my brain quieted to gentle observations of the world. The color of her eyes captivated me.

Some time passed. Aerith got up and went back to the stove for a few minutes. When she returned she held a small bottle in one hand and a towel in the other. I watched her roll the towel up into a cylinder shape. She placed it on the table with the bottle. Her hands went to my shirt and unbuttoned it. I obligingly shrugged out of the thing. The next thing I knew I had my head on the rolled up towel and warm olive oil trickling down my back.

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

He felt like a living marble artwork, a statue. It seemed I touched thousands of muscles. I absorbed his beauty, glad I had dared to perform this service. Anything was worth this. I worshipped at a beastly alter, tamed and soothed the creature under my hands. It would only be a temporary taming, a temporary soothing, but I felt temporary had to be better for him than nothing.

I couldn’t help but think of his power, how he would look and feel flexing and driving into me.

He shivered. Mindful of inciting him, I dampened my imaginative curiosity, focusing only on making him feel better. Who knew how much of my inner dialogue he heard, and who cared? I didn’t see the need to hide from Sephiroth. Apparently he would treat me the same no matter how I thought. I loved that.

He began to relax. I dug into his knotted muscles harder, allowing my steady friction to combine with the lassitude of pom-ne-kah. He melted.

In twenty minutes I’d finished him. Sephiroth sprawled boneless against the tabletop, eyes closed. He didn’t sleep, however. I wiped his back off carefully. Stirring, he sat up. For a moment he seemed disoriented, but in two blinks he focused. A very slight and lazy smile touched his lips.

“I have something for you,” he murmured. “I left it in my apartment; I wasn’t thinking when I came down here.” Standing, he stretched gloriously, showcasing his arresting physique. Before I could blink he’d leapt upward and through the ceiling. In seconds he returned, a large sized box in his hands. He set it down on the table. “I’d like to see you wearing all this,” he said.

We apparently weren’t going to discuss what had upset him so much today.

I came over and looked in. A black and silver mass of cloth met my eyes. I grabbed it and pulled out a fighting skirt, leggings and formfitting shirt. A pair of boots sat in the bottom of the box, along with another box. I took the footwear and turned to him. “Now?”

“If you would.” Sephiroth smiled again. “You might like it, despite all the black.”

I went to change.

The leggings were thick but slick. I donned the flared skirt with the cutaway front, thinking of Tifa’s usual outfit. The form fitting shirt came next. When I bent to put the boots on I caught my reflection and felt startled. I looked serious and formidable in all this black.

Sephiroth’s eyes tracked me as I returned to him. I smiled at him, feeling unsure. “These are fighting clothes, but you’ve determined I’m no good at that,” I said.

“Untrue,” Sephiroth answered, handing me the next box. “These are yours as well.”

I dug out two forearm bracers of gleaming silver metal, studded all around by linked materia slots. Each bracer had a single slot unfilled by materia.

“No one else may wear them and no one can take them off of you,” Sephiroth said, clamping my left one on. “You couldn’t advance with the staff because it wasn’t the correct weapon for you, my dear. The correct weapon for you is materia. And, now that you’re augmented with mako, your magic levels will stay high.”

“Wow.” I looked at my arms in amazement. “Where did you get all this materia? Where did you get the bracers?”

“I ordered the bracers,” Sephiroth said, leaning on the table. “They’re Platinum Titans, the strongest most versatile arm guards on the planet. The materia I’ve picked up over the years. I have a knack for finding it.” He paused to smile. “They’ve already birthed new materia, so don’t feel bad about taking them. I rarely use materia myself.”

Awed by my gift, I murmured a quiet thank you and continued to stare. Those empty slots puzzled me. Why would there be one empty slot on each arm when there were twelve full slots? “There’s two missing,” I said softly.

“We have to go somewhere special to pick those two up.” Sephiroth shrugged. “I’m taking you for them tomorrow, if that’s alright.”

“Fine,” I murmured. “You really think materia is my weapon?”

“I know it is.” Sephiroth grinned slightly. “Your use of a staff was one step removed from the planet’s blessing; materia is the planet. Your weapon is the channeling of the planet’s gift.”

“I am good with materia,” I admitted, seeing his logic. “So this means I’m not fighting with a staff anymore?”

“Do you want to?” Sephiroth asked, eyeing me curiously.

“No, but I’ll feel vulnerable without one for awhile I guess.” Again my eyes went back to the bracers. “I’ve never had a gift like this, Sephiroth, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, flower girl.” Sephiroth took a step closer to me. “Did I thank you for saving me from Sheila?”

“I don’t remember,” I answered, knowing perfectly well he hadn’t. I hadn’t saved him for thanks. “But I wouldn’t have left you to her tender mercies, Sephiroth.”

“Neither would I leave you unprepared for a violent world,” Sephiroth replied. “But there’s something else for you in the box.”

Feeling like a child at Yule, I went back to the seemingly endless container. In the very bottom, half-concealed by shadows, sat a dull, grey box of metal. I took it out. It opened up to reveal a bottle with a clamp top. I held it to the light. A heavy, amber-colored oil swirled around inside. Casting Sephiroth a glance, I flipped the top open.

The most heady and sensual scent flooded the room. I couldn’t in a million years describe the smell, but it made me feel relaxed and alert at the same time. But the rich, pure sweetness told me this was the perfume Sephiroth had purchased in Wutai and left in a bank. This was the perfume of the Holy Ones.

“Mmm,” he murmured, sniffing the air. “Perhaps I should go back to Wutai and find Mitsouko again. This is an art form that should never be lost.”

“This is…wonderful…” I managed to say. “I can’t believe the smell.”

Sephiroth took the bottle out of my hands. I watched him release the clamp to fully pull the cap off. A thin wand of glass fell down from the center of it, holding a precious drop of flower oil. I stood still as he brought it close to me. “Tilt your head,” he ordered softy. “Show me your pretty throat.”

Shivering, I did as he said. He gathered my hair with one hand, pulling it away from my neck. A moment later I felt a drop of warmth sliding down my skin. Sephiroth held me at the angle, not letting me raise my head. “Just be still a few seconds,” he urged. “It absorbs. You won’t have a messy oil on your flesh, just the scent. It lasts for days. Using it regularly makes it always a part of your natural odor.”

“I’ve never smelled anything so nice,” I whispered, staring at Sephiroth’s collarbone and the graceful length of his throat. “It’s so…compelling and mysterious. Dark and soothing…”

“It’s very much your scent,” Sephiroth replied quietly. “I’ve never known a female as compelling as you, flower girl.” His hand tightened in my hair slightly. I felt a pulse of warm air coasting across my heightened skin. He lowered his head…

I melted at the sensation of his lips upon the very spot the perfume rested. Weakness seized me, turning my bones to water. Delicious vulnerability swept through me, my dark enjoyment of being dominated by him. When his tongue slipped out to lick me, I moaned.

Sephiroth’s mighty body trembled once.

“Flower girl,” he sighed against my flesh. “Your pleasure is so important to me. How did that happen? What have you done to me?” His voice all a-wonder, he pulled me closer, pressing me against his body. A massive, insistent hardness strained against me. My mind flashed to the morning, seeing him on the floor with his erection pushing at his pants.

“You lie in my arms so willingly,” he said, pressing a soft, mind-stealing kiss underneath my ear. “You seek my company, even to lying with me in bed and sleeping at my side.”

“You know I have feelings for you,” I whispered, reaching out. My hands gripped his powerful sides, feeling the muscles bunch and jerk underneath me. “Why would I not seek you out, Sephiroth? Why would I not enjoy sleeping at your side?”

He trembled again, but this time I felt a wave of melancholy and pain take him over. I gasped aloud at the strength of them, their sheer, desperate quality. Instinctually, I lowered my shields. I took him in.

Sephiroth made a small sound. His lips parted against my neck as he breathed deeply of me. “You give and give to me,” he said lowly. “I never grow accustomed to your generosity or take it for granted, I promise.”

“I know,” I said, my voice breathy. “Sephiroth, I know.”

We stood there, entwined. Long minutes passed. I leaned my head against him the moment he released my hair, listened to his heart beating. My passion remained strong, but I knew he didn’t intend to take me tonight. I let myself calm, soothed by the knowledge that he would eventually deem the time right. I trusted his judgment.

“I must go now,” he said, breaking our embrace with obvious reluctance. “I told Reno and Tseng I would meet them. We are to discuss Rufus’ stand on Sheila’s assault and conference over my choices.”

I smoothed my hair a little as I looked at him, feeling very shy for no reason. “I don’t know Reno, but I know Tseng,” I said. “He’ll want to make everything’s proper one way or another.”

Sephiroth’s eyes glinted with mysterious satisfaction. “I’m sure you’re right,” he said.

“Well, it’s just that Tseng only made a half-hearted attempt at catching me all those years Shin-Ra had me on their most wanted list,” I replied, wondering what had him so pleased. “I don’t know why but I got the distinct feeling he felt sorry for me. It must be hard to have feelings as a Turk.”

“Anyone in Shin-Ra’s clutches wrestles with their feelings,” Sephiroth chuckled. He put the perfume bottle in my hands and stepped further back. “Before I forget, Eldon has elected to send his daughter to a nice, Shin-Ra free boarding school in Costa de Sol, so your babysitting job is out, I’m afraid.”

We were back to business, but I didn’t feel sorry. Sephiroth had been all too correct when he’d told me we were fires. He didn’t want us to burn too quickly.

Well, I would still like to have met the little girl, but I couldn’t feel sorry she was about to go to fresh air and sunny skies. She would doubtless miss her father, though.

“That’s ok,” I said. “Good for Eldon. He’s getting his daughter out of harm’s way.”

“Yes.” Sephiroth seemed to hesitate. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. I may not see you again before tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you when I see you,” I said, smiling.

He smiled back. An instant later I stood in the kitchen alone.