Vincent Comes Home

Maron--Well, that really sucks that some hor is being a bitch. You'll have to hunt her down. *cracks knuckles menacingly* And if you like Cid and Zet...well, this chapter is for them. So, hopefully, you'll be cool with it. *crosses fingers*

TheEndofallThingsGoodandBad--Yay, from responses, I'd say some people were for Cloud and others Vincent. And I had debated on it...but, you know. Story calls. And it made me kinda sad...because I've come to really like Cloud a lot more than I used to.

Tincent--Ah, that seems to be something else. Some people seem to have seen it coming and others were surprised. That's good though. :D Awwww, yew need da warm and fwuzzies? That's pretty awesome. Oo, what movie did you see? Something cool just come out? Now, I totally respect you for that, by the way. Tellin' me what you'd say as if we were confiring in person. I think that's fuckin' ace. I like friendliness and no formalities. Very awesome.
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Ok. This chapter is Cid's. And it's about him and Zet--so if you hate her...well...I'm posting the next chapter immediately. So don't have a heart attack. I was a little hesitant to do this for these two, but--as Cid is very different from Vincent--physically, psychologically--hell, nearly every way imaginable, I think it works.

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God: Every time I try to talk to someone it's "sorry this" and "forgive me that" and "I am not worthy"... (From Monty Python and the Quest for Holy Grail.)
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He had been sitting there for an hour, at least. Perhaps two. He couldn't even remember when he'd come back here. It had just been important to escape. He had to get away from all of them. Away from everything.

Cid Highwind may have been warm-hearted (he'd be inclined to disagree with that sometimes) and reknowned for his absolute (if sometimes reckless) courage, but it didn't stop him from being human.

...take him out back and put him outta his misery!

How could he have said that? Damn, he was an asshole. How could he face Tifa when she woke up? How could he...face any of them?

No. It wasn't his fault that Cloud was dead. It was his ship that had brought them there...but it wasn't his fault. It was Jenova's fault. Still, he felt as if he'd somehow failed them. On the rare occasions that someone on the ship died during an assignment, Cid had always taken responsibility for it. He was captain. It was his job. That person had been under his command so, technically, it was his fault. Maybe he'd never let that go?

Cid rubbed his temples. He leaned his elbows on his knees. Damn kid. Damn Holy. Damn Jenova. Damn Sephiroth. Damn all of it. He put his forehead on the heels of his hands and leaned over on his knees. He was sweating and trembling. His breathing was harsh as he struggled to put a cap on his wildly conflicting emotions--usually so subdued, were now rallying against him.

Why take Cloud?

“Fuck.”

What was he gonna tell Tifa?

Cloud was…he was…

He’d been proud of the boy, really. Cloud had grown up a lot when they’d first traveled together. He started not knowing who or what he was and ended as a leader. Cid had to respect that.

But then he’d shown signs of being sick…and it all went to fucking hell from there.

He breathed in deep, trying to stop his trembling and control himself. Fierce, rigid control was the game and Cid had been a player for almost as long as he could remember. He felt his eyes dampen and closed them tightly. He shoved his fingers through his hair, lopsiding his goggles.

You're a captain, fuckin' act like it.

He heard a knock on the door. He took his hands away and just stared at the knob, willing the knocker to just go away. Just leave him alone. Stop coming to him every ten goddamn seconds to fix something for them.

There was another knock.

He sighed. “Get up, Cid.”

He did.

He felt some of his malice evaporate when he saw that it was Zet. She looked to the side, glanced back, and said, “I know this is a dumb question…but…are you all right?”

He tried to smile for her, really tried, but the lump that came into his throat kept him from doing it. He shook his head, looking to the side so she couldn’t see his eyes, how close he was to doing something he hadn’t done in years. “M’all right. I shoul’ jus’…be alone for now…”

She nodded quietly. Her face was blank, casting no judgement and giving away no thoughts. He didn't mind that about her. She wasn't an open book and she knew when things weren't really any of her business. She hadn't come to pry. She'd merely come to see if he was all right. Her problems weren't big enough for Cid to have to fix them--whatever they were--she could handle them on her own. She didn't ask for his help and she didn't come whining to him about anything. She didn't bother him while he was working and, in turn, he paid her the same respect. He suddenly wished he had more pilot friends. Maybe they were all like him and Zet and Jeremiah? Damn, wouldn't that be nice?

He stiffened abruptly when he felt her fingers slide around to the base of his neck and put her other hand on the small of his back. Feeling her warmth brought him back to reality. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back, tightly.

When he let go she looked up at him and, very gently, touched his face with her fingers. She drew him down to her and kissed him on the cheek. She smiled sadly at him and curled her fingers over his jaw. “If you need anything…”

He nodded, looking into her face. “Thanks…”

She turned around and slowly walked away, looking back only once when she reached the corner of the hallway.

Cid had half a mind to call her back, but he didn’t. He met her eyes as she turned the corner and then he retreated back into his room and shut the door.

He was going to sit on his bed again but, halfway there, changed his mind and went to his locker. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and could have torn the plastic to shreds upon discovering he had no more. He pulled out the cardboard carton. None.

“Christ,” he muttered.

So he reached for the bottle of brandy and poured himself a tall glass. He set the golden-brown liquor on his desk, sat in his chair and just looked at it for a long moment.

What am I gonna tell Tifa?

Cid rubbed his hand hard over his eyes, took a long drink from his glass and then he smiled. Costa del Sol’s best brandy. He could see Zet in his mind's eye, standing on the railing next to him, the wind tugging at her hair as she looked thoughtfully into the distance.

He laughed wretchedly to himself. “Y’like her,” he said quietly, miserably. He scowled. “I shouldn’t be thinkin’ about that. I need to think about what I’m gonna tell Tifa.”

He looked at the ground and felt his eyes sting. He needed to do something. He didn’t want to think about Cloud or Jenova. Any of it. He didn’t want to consider what he was going to have to say to Tifa when she woke up. He was tired of feeling like he was leading in the dark. He looked at the brandy again and thought of wavy brown hair and a kiss on his skin.

What are you? Twenty-fucking-five? Act like a goddamn adult, Cid.

But goddammit, he didn’t want to.

But it’s not as if going to her would make everything better. You’d feel all right for now, but you’ll feel like shit later. He closed his eyes, trying to think anything else but all he could come up with was Cloud’s corpse. He lifted a hand and rubbed his stubbly cheek.

“No,” he told himself forcefully, taking his hand off his cheek where she’d kissed him and taking a deep drink from his glass. “Christ. What the hell is wrong with you? You’re only thinkin’ like this because…”

Because you’ve had a miserable couple weeks. Today has taken the cake and you just want to think about somethin’ fucking else right now.

“No fuckin’ excuse.”

He had slept with Shera after coming back from Sephiroth. And why? Because he felt reckless and proud that he’d come home alive. He had been confused about his thoughts on Shera. He’d hurt her.

What d’you feel about this girl? No. She’s an adult. He scowled, allowing the image of her at the railing to rise far too quickly to the forefront. Cursing, he looked in the dusty, cracked mirror across the room. “You need to fuckin’ think about Tifa, you fuckin' prick.”

Vincent’s with Tifa. He’ll take care of her. And she won’t be up for hours. Probably not until tomorrow.

Cid stared ahead with this thought, thinking about that while seeing nothing. “It’s not fuckin’ right.”

Who says?

“I need to think about Tifa. I wanna distraction. I want….not…not…”

Your thoughts are contradicting themselves. And that would be distracting.

Cid closed his eyes and saw the corpse. He took a breath and gave up. “Fuck, I’m weak.”

He got up, set his drink aside and left the room.


He walked down the hallway, around the corner and further down. He counted the numbers on the doors until he came to hers. He knocked.

No one answered.

He listened intently, but could hear no sound from the room. Sighing, he knocked again.

Nothing.

Figures. Why was no one in their damn room when he wanted to see them? He suppose they were probably there the rest of the time except for the very moment he decided to come visit.

He swept second thoughts out of his mind and walked down to Jeremiah’s room. The answer was a little slow in coming when he knocked and Jeremiah peered out at him blearily. “Hallo Cid,” he said, looking rather miserable.

Cid instantly felt sorry for the man. He wondered if anyone had come to see him. Probably not. Probably no one had except for Zet. And here he was, always asking Jeremiah where she was. Woman needs a goddamn beeper. She’s always disappearing. Cid swallowed. “I know this i’n’t really the time and I’m sorry—but d’you happen t’know where Zet is?”

Jeremiah smiled sadly at him. “Y’made yer decision?”

Startled by that, Cid blinked, staring at him.

The older man’s smile widened a little. “She sai’ she was gonna go see yeh. I dunno where she is now. Check the deck—she likes it out there. Maybe th' workshop.”

Cid nodded. “Thanks.”

Jeremiah started to close the door but Cid swiftly put his hand on it. “Jeremy. If you go t’my room, there’s a bottle of Costa del Sol brandy on my desk. You can ‘ave some if y’want. Jus’ don’ tell the others.”

Jeremiah smiled at him and nodded. “Thank ye, Cid. I may do that. An' then…I think I’m gonna go t’bed. It’s been a sad day for you an’ your friends.” He closed the door.

Cid strode off, breathing deeply to steady his nerves. Don't think right now...

He checked the deck first, but it was empty. Cid stood on it for a moment though, just to feel the rushing wind. The cold hurt his eyes and he told himself it was that that made them sting and water so much.

He tried the bridge next, but only his pilots were there.

“Need somethin’, Captain?” His crew had been extra quiet since they’d returned.

“No. You guys are doin’ jus’ fine. Keep it up.”

Cid went to the workshop last. The door was unlocked and the lights were on. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him, turning the lock.

Zet was sitting in a chair with her arms on the workbench. O’Malley’s gun (an S-Class Smoke Thirty-Six handgun, Fourth Edition from Midgar) lay in front of her but she did not appear to be working on it. Her chin sat on her arms, looking at the wall.

“Zet.”

Startled, she looked over. “Cid,” was all she said.

Cid's vision blurred and the next thing he knew, he was striding up to her. He went to her chair and leaned over, putting one hand on the table and the other on her shoulder. He kissed her on the mouth.

He heard her inhale sharply. He took his other hand off the table and held her face as he kissed her. He slipped the hand on her shoulder to the back of her neck, pressing her into him.

He moved then, slipping his hands back to her shoulders, and shifting so he was standing behind her chair.

“Cid?” she said, quietly.

He didn’t respond, smiling sadly to himself. Just focus on something else. Anything else. Don’t think of the dead right now. Think of the living. He flitted his hands to the back of her neck and took her hair in his fingers. It was coarse, just like he thought it would be. He smiled. She was a pilot first and a woman second. He had to respect that about her.

He moved her hair to one side and kissed the back of her neck. He felt her tense but she was totally silent. She tilted her head slightly to one side, inviting him to the rest of her throat. He did so, moving his lips along and, at the same time, moving his hands.

He heard her gasp. “Cid…the door…what—?”

“They’re all in their rooms an’ the door is locked.”

He moved his hands off her shoulders, gliding them over her breasts to the waistline of her pants. He slipped his hands under her shirt. Her skin was warm where his hands were cold and he smiled when she gasped.

He laughed quietly and, instead of moving upwards, went down. He unzipped her pants and slipped his hand inside. She jerked in surprise, gasping and tensing up sharply this time and he saw her fingers grip the seat of her chair.

He paused. You didn’t even consider whether or not she would want…

“I’m sorry,” he told her, moving his hands away, suddenly very aware of what he was doing. He felt the miserable grip of shame and humiliation catch up to him. “Fuck. Christ, I'm a fuckin' moron. I’m sorry.”

She grabbed his hand before he could slip away. He stopped and stared down at her. She didn’t turn to look at him. She kept her gaze forward, staring at the wall. “You surprised me,” she informed him. Her voice was not shy or timid, but steady and low.

Cid considered for a split second, refusing. He shouldn’t do this. He really shouldn’t. He didn’t want to fuck things up again. But then closed his eyes, saw Cloud’s pale corpse, and the thought was instantly dismissed.


She let go of his hand as he came back behind her. He kissed her neck, moving his hands under her shirt again.

Reveling in the warmth of her skin, he moved one hand up to her breast, pulling out the nipple from her bra and teasing it. He felt it harden to his touch and pushed his hand harder to her flesh. Then he slipped his fingers lower. She breathed in when he touched her again. He immersed his fingers in her heat, rubbing gently. She sighed, arching against the chair. Cid moved his other hand out of her shirt and clamped it over her shoulders, holding her down to the sturdy wooden back.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back slightly. Her breathing picked up now and it took everything in Cid’s hot-blooded brain to keep his control.

You should be thinking about what you can do for Tifa…, the thought snuck in. He closed his eyes, willing it away, and only saw the corpse. I will, just give me right now. And he focused back on her, making his circles wider and deeper.

That made her gasp and she started moving quicker against his hand. He felt her muscles stiffen and she breathed in sharply.

He let her go. She started to turn around but he moved again, leaning down and kissing her lips. He grabbed her arms and pulled her up, shoving her roughly against the workbench and kissing her hard, moving one hand to her back and the other to her breasts. Just give me right now…

He grunted, moving down to her throat and closing his eyes for a moment when she gave a tiny sigh. Cid grabbed her around the waist and sat her on the workbench. Now eye-to-eye, he moved his hands over her again and, for the first time, she touched him too. She placed her fingers on his chest, getting a feel for the muscle there and then moving to his shoulders. She leaned forward, interrupting his ministrations to her throat. She kissed his mouth, down his jaw-line to his neck. He groaned and looked at the workbench. It was covered in tools and half-finished projects.

He slid his hands up her back. “This ain’t gonna work. There’s too much shit in here. Le’s go.” He grabbed Zet around the waist again and lifted her off the bench.

“Where?”

“We’ll go back my cabin. No one will bother us.” He grabbed her hand and strode to the door, unlocked it and out they went. No one passed them in the halls and if they had, Cid would have ignored them. Zet kept his quick pace, though she had to take more steps to match his stride.

Finally, it seemed, they made it to his door. Cid opened it and froze. “Jeremiah!” He choked on the name.

The other captain looked at him. “Jus’ ‘avin’ some o’ tha’ brandy. Oh, is that—“ He stopped, realizing who it was. From the look on his face, Jeremiah put two and two together surprisingly quickly. Her mussed hair and rumpled clothing; Cid's iron grip on her hand, not to mention the simple fact the Cid had opened the door and said the other captain's name in an obviously guilty manner. Just in the tone conveying that, perhaps, he would have preferred not to have run into him at all.

There was an awkward silence.

“Well, s’pose I oughtta leave.”

Zet stared at the ground, looking mortified.

Jeremiah refilled the glass. He raised it to Cid. “I’m gonna borrow this. I’ll brin’ it back tomorrow.” He ambled over to Cid and clapped him on his broad shoulder. He stopped in front of Zet and chucked her under the chin. He looked right into her face. “You tell me if ‘e’s mean t’you. I know you can ‘andle y’self but, y’know, jus’ in case. You tell me.”

Zet’s mouth fell open. She stared at him, too stunned for words.

Jeremiah only smiled. He turned a mock-glare at Cid. “Said y’were a bad influence, didn’ I? Young rascal.” He shook his finger at him and then ambled out the door.

Cid shut it behind him, turned the lock and looked at Zet with raised eyebrows. She laughed at herself. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“I completely forgot I tol’ him to go ahead and come in ‘ere.”

“Well, I suppose it was better this way. At least he wasn’t clueless, that would’ve been worse. ‘Cause then I would have had to either explain to him or make something up. And it's hard to lie to Jeremiah--because if he finds out--I feel like I've just kicked a puppy.”

Cid furrowed his eyebrows. “You know, he seems real spacey, bu’ he picks up on th’ weirdest shit.”

“Yeah, he does,” Zet agreed, shaking her head.

You shouldn’t be doing this…

“Well, at any rate…” Cid waved it away. He took Zet’s wrists and pushed her up against his door. Her felt her tense under his hands but he didn’t really register it. He moved his fingers to her shoulders, holding her still.


Her hand, still cool, slipped up to his forearm, while the other slipped, rather shyly, over his ribs. He grinned, almost wickedly, moving one hand to her face and the other to her neck and he pressed harder into her. He felt her hand leave his side and her fingernails click against the metal door. He pressed further, moving his hands up to rest on the door and kissing her harder, deeper. His stomach felt as though it were on fire. He moved down to her throat, breathing into it and shoved his rough fingers under her shirt.

She jumped a little, a tiny inhale escaping her.

He heard it in his ear and pulled away to look at her.

She gave him an anxious smile, tinged with warmth. He smiled back. He pulled one hand from her shirt and flicked his thumb over her nose. She laughed a little. He nodded to himself.

That was permission.

He leaned into her again, resuming his kisses on her throat, feeling her breath in deeply and leaning her head against the door. His hand danced under her shirt again, slipping his thumbs over her ribs to her breasts.

Her hands slid up to his elbows again and she shuddered when he took her breasts in his hands. He moved his lips down her throat to her collarbone, at the same time, pressing his hands harder into her skin and pulled her shirt off roughly. She went rigid again but he ignored it, thumbing the straps of her bra aside and then shoved his hands behind her back, forcing her to arch. He put a knee between her legs and managed to get the clasps undone. He threw the garment on the floor and, keeping one hand on the small of her back, pushed the other around to her chest again.

He kissed her gruffly on her bare shoulder, biting a little and grinning when she winced ever-so-lightly. He ran his free hand her over her breast, then pushed down to the her pants, grabbed onto the waistline and roughly tugged on them, at the same time, shoving his knee further between them. She barely let out a sound but her eyelids fluttered with the sensation that, no doubt, came from the rough contact.

The wicked smile returned to his face. “Now, I gotta ‘member t’be nice to you; else Jeremiah’ll have my ass.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, giving him a ‘yeah right’ look and started to laugh but it changed to surprise when Cid shoved his hands under her thighs and lifted her up against the door. Cid looked at her, she didn’t seem to know what to do for a moment. “Wrap your legs around my waist, can’t have y’walk if he’s gonna be so—“

“Oh, shut up.” But, uncertainly, she did so and he felt her arch slightly when he put his hands up her back to steady her.

“—be so delicate.” He finished and started towards his bed.

“Screw you,” she snapped, glaring.

That only made his grin widen. “That can be arranged.”

He knelt on his bed and removed his hand, letting her drop onto his blankets, taking the opportunity to remove his shirt. She grumbled at him, removing her legs from his waist and scooting backwards on his blankets. But he snagged her ankle. “Gotta take your boots off, sweets.”

She glared to the side, looking embarrassed, and pulled her knees up to cover her breasts while she did so. Cid watched her while she did it. Her wavy brown hair fell into her face.

Her skin was just a touch of brown. Not tan, but not pale either. She had a paper-thin scar just under her hairline on the right side of her face. Her nose was small, like a button mushroom. She wasn’t beautiful, like Tifa was, but…she didn’t really need to be. She was pretty enough and, anyway, that didn’t really matter in the end.

You shouldn’t be—

Fuckin’ shut up. I’ve made my choice.

Zet placed her boots on the floor and Cid grabbed her and forced her down on his bed. He was kissing her again, absorbing the taste and scent of her skin. She slid her hands over his broad back and into his hair. Cid leaned back on his knees a little and reached for the waistline of her pants. She countered by going for his goggles, gruffly snapping at the straps (on purpose, making him wince) and putting them on the nightstand (it wouldn’t be until later that she would see that she’d missed said nightstand completely).

Still holding a hand on her waist line he suddenly pulled back a little and looked her over.

“Wish I’d’a noticed this earlier,” he grumbled.

Zet rolled her eyes and smiled. “Well, I don’t expect you to see everything. You are gettin’ pretty old.”

Cid grinned an evil grin. “But tha’ just means I got more experience. Yer still young, wench. You’ve gotta lot to learn.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Wench?"

He snorted, still grinning and laid down, flushing their bodies against each other.

Zet seemed a little out of sorts. “Wow,” she said, not looking at his face. “Muscle-y, aincha?”

He chuckled, leaned down and kissed her again. She breathed in, meshing her fingers into his hair then moving down to touch his shoulders.

He could almost forget about Cloud and Tifa. He closed his eyes for a moment. He shouldn’t even have thought about it. Then don’t…

Cid shoved his hands between them and grabbed a nipple in each of his hands to rub them, tweaking and teasing them into attention. She gave a barely audible, breathy sigh and arched her back, rubbing her hips against his. He continued kissing her, moving his lips down her collarbone.

A hot, heady feeling was rushing over him. It felt as if his brain was shutting down. He wanted her. She probably already knew, judging how obviously the bulge in his pants was right against her hip. When he pulled away, she was looking right at him.

“Zet—“

“Shut up,” she whispered, putting a finger to her lips. Her eyes seemed strangely fiery. She sat up, forcing him back. When he was on his knees, she pushed him over and climbed on top of him, one knee between his legs. She leaned down to kiss him. He let his hands fly to the clasp of her pants again. She slapped them away, moving her fingers to his clothes. She unzipped his pants and drew him out. She wrapped her fingers around him lightly, rubbing the head of his penis and worked her way down.

His eyes rolled back into his head and he shuddered. His rough hands went to her hair, burying themselves to her scalp. His blood was already roaring and hot, and his breathing was turning into a heavy pant. He groaned when she began to work harder, tugging at him, rubbing with the pads of her fingers. He closed his eyes, concentrating solely on the sensations below. Waves of heat were cresting over him. He swallowed hard.

His eyes snapped open when he felt her tongue. He took a very sharp breath. She flicked her tongue over him and took him into her mouth, sucking and nipping.

He groaned again, his back arched, and his fingers tangled into her hair. She moved up and down, not quite slowly, but not fast either. Cid felt a rush of jitters. If he didn’t do something, he was going to lose control of himself. Again. He had a bad habit of that.

“Zet. Zet…you,” he took a couple breaths, groaning again when she sucked harder. “Christ, Zet, you shouldn’t…” His fingers stretched out. “Zet…m’gonna…gonna..lose it here…”

He couldn’t see Zet’s face, obscured as it was by her hair but he got the feeling that she didn’t care very much. She reached up a hand and tickled the muscles in his abdomen. He jumped and nearly lost himself. “Zet….ya…”

And, mercifully, she stopped. She came up to his face. “What?” she asked him, a little breathlessly, slipping her hands down to his hard length again.

He grabbed the waistline of her pants roughly in his fist. “These need to come off.”

The look she gave him was solemn and steady, then she smiled, a little shy, and rolled over onto the bed. She started to undo her pants. Cid could hardly stand this. He was aching. He got up on his knees and pulled everything off. He started to get over her, but she moved out from under him and pushed on his shoulder. He rolled over onto his back and she climbed on him again. The smile she gave him was very serene, if a little thoughtful.

Her fingers spirited down again, he winced—eyes fevered now. “Zet, I can’t take much more o’ this right now. I mean, not to rush but—”

The mood he was in, he didn’t really want to take it slow. He was still…a bit selfish, he supposed. But he got the feeling that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The way she acted around him had given her away, and now all the little hints and smirks that he’d gotten from Jeremiah made sense. Besides, your first time with someone new is always too fast. It’s the experience the first time. After that, it’s all about exploration.

She nodded and curled her fingers around his shaft. He jumped at the touch again. But then she was lowering herself onto him. She laid her hands flat on the bed and took it a little slowly. Cid grabbed at the tops of her thighs, roughly pushing his hands up to her hips.

She leaned over him and opened her eyes. “Look at me,” she told him.

He did, very much aware of how tight her inner muscles closed in on him.

Zet began to move. Just barely at first, to a sort of steady rocking.

Cid’s eyes unfocused.

“No, no,” came Zet’s voice, husky and low. “Look at me.”

Cid looked into her eyes. It was harder than he’d thought it’d be. He’d never had a woman look him in the eye before. God, it sure made you focus a hell of a lot.

As if guessing his thoughts, Zet smiled, softly. She started to move faster. Cid narrowed his eyes at her, sensing the challenge. He gripped her hips and moved up and down with her. Faster and faster and faster.

Cid saw her eyes narrow and start to unfocus. She blinked hard, keeping her eyes trained on his. Cid slipped one of his hands down her thigh, tickling down her flesh. She sighed breathlessly but didn't waver. Cid had to smile. He pressed his thumb into her skin, making little circle patterns until he dipped down to where they were joined and touched again on the little bundle of nerves. She instantly lost her concentration, gasping to keep herself steady. As soon as she did, he closed his eyes. He saw nothing. He felt her muscles getting more and more tense. She inner muscles were pulling more and more taunt around him. Just a bit more…

Suddenly, with a low, barely audible cry, Zet went rigid.

Finally, damn—almost silent through this whole thing. It’s gonna take a lotta work to get her to moan.

Cid moved her hips on him twice more and then he joined her. He shuddered inside of her, his fingers tightening against her flesh.

Zet, breathing hard, tried to lock her arms but she could not. She slumped down on Cid’s chest. Cid panted, lifting a hand to brush the side of her face. She let out a sigh.

“You all right?”

“Yeah,” she answered, swallowing. She snaked her hand up and laid it lightly next to her nose, just to the right of his breastbone. “You? Don’t wanna give you a heart attack or anything.”

Cid grinned over at her. “That would be awkward to explain, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah it would,” she replied. She put her hands on either side of Cid and lifted herself off of him. She slumped down next to him. Cid turned on his side so he could look at her.

“I want you t’know that m’not gonna take advantage of you.”

She nodded, though Cid wasn’t sure if it was to herself or to him. “I know. I know that sometimes people need…comfort. It doesn’t fix anything necessarily…but it can help…destress,” she said the last word rather delicately. “It’s been a long day for you all…and sometimes…you just need to…” She paused, as if unable to express what she meant. “Well, you know.

“Yeah, but I wan’ you to understan’ that…well…this doesn’t have to be a one-time occurrence.”

“You think if I thought it was going to be a one-time occurrence I would have come?”

“Well, somebody’s arrogant,” Cid told her, grinning. "You've only known me a short time."

"I could say the same to you. And anyway," she frowned. “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want you to get the idea that I sleep with anyone I…happen to like. I mean, I’m not that friendly.”

Cid smiled and ran a hand over her bare shoulders and down to the small of her back with the tips of his fingers, making her shiver. “So, ya like me, huh?”

Zet snorted. She rolled her eyes. “Just a little.”

“Well good,” Cid said, softly. He laid down on his back and hooked his arms around her, pulling her onto his chest. “I like you too.”

He watched Zet softly smile as she laid her head down on him.

He could almost forget…

No. No…I’ll never forget that…

The look on Tifa’s face and Cloud, dead, on the dais. It was burned into his memory. He’d never be able to get it out.

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Looking back at this chapter and the next one--I think they've come across as way too fast. I'm going to edit these later...