Vincent Comes Home

Hallo. Onto bit six, for those of you who are still with me.
Some Cid/Shera in this part. Yay, Cid!


The door opened.

Zet and Tifa looked up. Jeremiah closed the door behind him. He walked over and sat down next to Tifa. He looked very somber. “Zet—“

“If you’re firing me I already—“

“Now jus’ ‘old on a second. Yeh didn’t lemme finish.” He paused. “Wha’ would yeh do in my place, Zet? That’s no’ a question I wan’ yeh to answer, just think about it. I know I’m not the world’s most detailed man but—“

“I—“

“But,” he overrode her. “You should ‘ave come to me instead of takin’ matters into yer own hands. You could ‘ave the military police on ye by tomorrow.”

Zet obviously hadn’t thought of that, Tifa concluded, as the pilot bowed her head. She was more rash sometimes than she pretended to be.

Unexpectedly, voices fired up outside the door.

“…I wanna speak to your goddamn captain!”

Sounds of a scuffle. A thump on the door.

“I know he’s in there. No, I don’t give a shit if he’s busy!”

“Oh, Cid,” muttered Tifa, putting her forehead in her palm.

Jeremiah went to the door and opened it. “What are yeh doin’ here?”

“’Bout damn time! Wanted to talk to you ‘bout the girl.”

“Her name is Zet, Captain Highwind. And, as it stands, she’s ‘ardly a girl any longer.” But he let Cid in and shut the door again.

“Tifa! You still here?”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Obviously.”

Jeremiah gestured to his fellow captain. “Cid feels I shoul' demote you—“

“Cid!” exclaimed Tifa, looking angry.

“Oh, Tifa, calm down—“

“Have you come to cut her tongue out? I know how stern you can be about your crew but Cid—“

“Stop.”

Everyone turned to Zet, but she looked right at Cid, her eyes hardened. “He’s right. I should be fired.”

Cid shifted, wondering how many more times he’d be uncomfortable before this damn evening was over. “Now look! I was just coming to tell Jeremiah—“

“I’m not gonna fire yeh, Zet.”

Zet broke eye contact with Cid to stare. “What?”

Tifa noted that Cid quickly looked at the floor and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not gonna fire yeh. While Captain Cid’s advice makes sense and ‘olds merit I don’t feel yev earned tha’. “

The disbelief was plain on Zet’s face, Tifa thought it made her look extremely young. “Sir—“

“Now don’ go callin’ me ‘Sir’. You’ve always called me by my name. I don’ wan’ tha’ t’change—else I’d’ve demoted yeh. You’n’me are equals. I let yeh ‘ave mos’ of the command o’ the crew. So this time, I’m gonna let it go and only ‘cause I’ve been thinkin’ a’doing it myself. The only thing I’m gonna do is ask yeh to work below deck for a time in the workshop and send Triple up here to take over for awhile. He’s been pesterin’ me to teach ‘im to pilot and all that. It’s no’ a punishment—just a show, really.”

Zet continued to stare, not daring to say a word. Perhaps, in his place, she’d have fired herself?

“All right, then?” Jeremiah clapped his hands together. “Now, come downstairs and I’ll show you what I wan’ done.”

This left Cid and Tifa alone.

“Cid, I can’t believe—“

“Would you shut up? I came here to tell him not to fire the kid.”

“She’s hardly a kid, she’s hardly older than me.”

“Bullshit. Looks and acts like a kid.”

“You’re just saying that because something has set you off. Whenever something unsettles you, you gotta make this big show of being an asshole!”

Stung by that and forcibly reminded of his and Vincent’s conversation, he said, "You gotta lotta nerve—“

“I don’t think you’re being very fair—“

“Life’s not fair, sweets.”

“As if I don’t know,” Tifa snapped and, with that, closed the conversation.

Silence stretched between them. Cloud, of course, Shera, Tifa’s parents, Cid’s dream, Aeris….if life had been fair….would any of that had happened? The answer you always want to give is “no”. But, of course, who knows? If not for Sephiroth, none of them may have been united and so it would not have mattered. Right? Who knew…?

Not Tifa. Certainly not Cid.

The two of them, young woman and grizzled older man, sat side-by-side, saying nothing. The silence left them cold, out of words for the moment. Tifa stood up. “We should go inside.”

“Yeah,” Cid gruffly agreed quickly and followed her out.

He waved her away so he could have a cigarette.

She went inside.

Only Vincent was at the table when she returned. Dismayed, she slumped down into a chair. “I’m sorry everything has turned out so badly, Vincent. I don't want you to feel as though this is your fault--”

He shook his head. “It is no one’s fault. I am…past attempting to blame myself for everything that comes my way. I know that some things, you cannot control. This is one of those things.”

Tifa looked up, staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.


“You do know what he’s working on, don’t you?”

Vincent lifted his eyebrows. “No. That bastard doesn’t tell me anything. Lost track of Gast, lost my command, Eyes stepped down—that new guy, Verd, is in now—shit, I don’t know half of what goes on anymore. Ever since ShinRa found out about whatever the hell he’s working on in there, it’s like things are changing.”

“Do you believe they’re falling apart?”

Vincent paused. “No. Verd will be excellent. Guy’s young, but he's fucking creepy. I’m just tired of being a messenger boy. I’m a Turk.”

“Yes,” said Lucrecia, inclining her head slightly and smiling. “But your involvement in this project proves how much faith your superiors have in you.”

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” Vincent said and, scowling, he put his feet up on the dining room table. He thought for a moment. “What is it?”

Lucrecia smiled that glinting smile and leaned back in her chair. “You can’t tell anyone I told you. It’s Top-Secret, you know?”

Vincent mimed zipping his lips.

Grinning, she leaned forward. “It’s called JENOVA. It was found by SOLDIER initially—“

“ShinRa’s boyscouts,” he muttered, a half-smirk on his face.

“It impacted in the North Crater.”

“Impacted?” Vincent asked, the words snapping his interest up. He looked at her.

“It’s an alien being of some kind. Hojo has been studying it and doing experimentations.”

Something within Vincent stopped his breathing. “Experimentations?”

“With the cells from JENOVA and Mako energy. That’s what the Ancient Ifalna’s involvement was all about.”

Vincent couldn’t explain it. Suddenly, his breathing seemed shallow. His hands had gone all clammy. The heavy feeling of dread swept over him. He narrowed his eyes. “What is he experimenting on?”

Lucrecia looked about, as if to ensure her secrecy. “Living things. He started with animals—now there are monsters…” she looked to the side. “He wants to start with humans.”

“What!?”

“Now, Vincent—“

“He can’t just do that! He can’t just take people and experiment on them!”

“Vincent,” she said, in an urgent whisper. “Be quiet! He’ll hear you!”

Vincent took his feet off the table and slammed them to the ground. He clenched his hands.

She stood up. “I…I should go. I’ll be late.”

Jerked out of his murmuring, he jumped up, catching her hand. “W-wait.”

She turned. “I really need to—“

And he kissed her.

She drew away, staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.


Darkness fell over Midgar. Cid sat with his back against the wall of the house, on his fourth cigarette, staring at the stars. He felt bad now about what he’d said to Jeremiah previously. Guilt and seeing Vincent again were making him feel the heavy burden of sorrow that he usually cast away. And now Tifa was angry with him too. Fuck, he didn’t care, right?

Fuck. Yeah…he did.

Shera…

He’d come into Rocket Town in the dead of night, two days after he was supposed to, hoping that the crowds would have gone home.

But they had not. The dozens of parties and celebrations he’d witnessed on the way here were just what he found in Rocket Town. The sleepy place was alive with lights, streamers, dancing, music and people.

Luckily, it was so loud that no one seemed to note the return of the Highwind. His crew dispersed immediately, eager to see their families and be clapped on the back by friends. Drinks all around! would surely be the call for the night.

Cid went around to the back door, hopping over his own fence to do so. There was a light on in the living room window. Shera was here.

She’d saved his life.

He had…been an asshole.

He opened the door. Leaning his spear in the foyer he walked through the back to the kitchen.


On the kitchen table lay a few crumbs, otherwise, the room was spotless. Shera had cleaned again. Probably him being late had driven her nuts. Or…he hoped so, maybe.

He still wasn’t quite certain about his feelings for Shera.

Cid walked his broad frame to the other end of the kitchen and looked into the living room. There she was, sitting by the phone, looking out the window, seemingly lost in her thoughts. The glow of the yellow lamp cast shadows over her face.

Cid leaned an arm against the doorframe and opened his mouth to speak.

Instantly, he was angry with himself. What was he sneaking like this for? In his own goddamn house! What was he waiting for? For her to turn around and for no particular reason and spot him? Become obsessed and cradle him and talk about his fight? To take care of him?

No. No. He was sure he didn’t want that. He had always taken care of himself.

Abruptly, the phone rang, surprising Cid and making him jump. Shera jerked with a gasp, took a deep breath to calm herself and leaned forward to answer the phone.

She listened for a moment.

Now was as good a moment as any. Order her to get off his damn phone and…and…

And what?

He took a step forward, nonetheless.

But then she was pausing, eyes unfocusing, suddenly turning and gazing at him. He froze too, startled by the look on her face. She stumbled out of her chair and dropped the phone.

She quivered. “Cid,” she whispered, hands coming to her side without any real place to go.

Cid was lost for words. He’d had all sorts of horrible things planned out to say when he arrived but suddenly couldn’t bring himself to say any of them. He looked away from her questing eyes. “Shera…,” and cursed himself for his near-stutter. He cleared his throat. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times and then Shera was running to him.

He found her wrapped around him before he could evade her.

“Oh, Cid! When you didn’t come back I was afraid that something had happened! That the reports weren’t true! That you’d died or something! I was afraid—“

“Now Shera,” Cid tried to smile and failed. This was a comfort zone he wasn’t very good in. “M’all right.”

She pulled away from him. Her eyes focused on his arms. “Look at these bandages. What happened? Are they from….from him? Are you all right? Are you hurt a lot?”

Cid took a deep breath, trying to clamp controls on himself. What was he supposed to do? “Yeah, but they’ll heal soon enough. It’s not bad.”

Shera spun in a circle. “I can’t believe you sometimes! You go off and nearly get yourself killed and come back and say you’re just fine! Unbelievable! I can’t—“

Cid was laughing now, grinning down at her with something resembling fondness.

“What are you laughing at?” she snapped, bringing herself up to her full height (just under Cid’s ear).

“You,” he said, pointing at her. “You’re all worried about me. I coulda tol’ ya I was gonna be fine.”

“Why, you cocky son-of-a-bitch!”

Cid goggled at her.

“Yeah, look at me with that stupid expression on your face! Oh, you big dummy!”

He sputtered a laugh. “ ’Cocky son-of-a-bitch’ to ‘big dummy’?”

She grumbled and slapped his chest. “Sometimes, I hate you, Captain!”

Cid snorted bitterly. “You and how many others?”

Her looked softened. And then she narrowed her eyes, grabbed the front of his jacket and yanked him down to her. His lips catapulted into hers and jammed against each other. She released him just as suddenly as she’d grabbed him and stared into his face, dreadfully afraid from the look in her eyes.

He stared at her, not believing what she had just done. “Shera…”

She sniffed pathetically, trying to rally herself up again. “What?”

He shook his head, taking a step back. “You don’t want me, Shera…”

She glared at him now, defiantly. She spun around, hung up the phone and yanked the lamp cord. They were enveloped in darkness.

Cid tensed, uneasy with this turn of events. How did he feel about the woman again?

Suddenly, she was right in front of him. He could feel the warmth radiating off of her in waves. He took an unsteady, awkward breath. He froze as her fingers suddenly brushed against his rough face. His vision adjusted and finally, he could see her. She was moving closer.

And then he was kissing her.

He hadn’t considered his reason for this until afterwards. Love? Loneliness? Adrenaline? Safety? Hell, he’d just returned from the fight with Sephiroth and had lived to tell about it. Had he been feeling reckless?

It hadn’t mattered then though. His hands were on her hips, holding her against him. She was kissing his jaw line, nibbling on his ear and moving down to his neck. His fingers clamped down on her.

“Shera—“

Her glare silenced him. “I’ve put up with you for a long time, Cid. For once I would like to not regret it.” And that had silenced him. She was basically saying, You were an asshole. Now it’s my turn.

She pressed against his chest until he felt the wall behind him.

Good God, Cid—what the fuck are you doing? Letting this woman—this woman!--do this to you?! He grunted. “Fine.”

He grabbed her up, threw her right over his shoulder—just to assert his masculinity, of course—and carried her, kicking, to his room. He shouldered the door closed and threw her onto his bed. She scrambled up, sitting awkwardly all of a sudden—as if she knew this was coming but still wasn’t sure how she’d arrived there.

Cid, meanwhile, slowly removed his jacket, goggles, and boots and attempted to not think about the consequences of his actions. When he finished he turned to her. The room was dark too—only moonlight casting in through his window. He went to it and closed the curtains, then sank down onto the bed next to her.

She stared at him. He stared back.

Again, he could feel her warmth. It’s been a long time…

Then he was kissing her, forcing her to lie down while he crouched over her like a predator. She scrabbled at him, pulling off his scarf and tossing it away. He worked her hair out of its ponytail and let it fly over his pillow. She forced her hands, lost now in their dance, under his shirt. He inhaled sharply—

“Damn, your hands are cold!”

She laughed at him.

He plucked her glasses off her nose and set them aside, then sat up and tugged his shirt off. He felt self-conscious for a moment but then she was reaching up and pulling him down. He rested half on her and worked the buttons of her shirt loose, finally getting aggravated and ripping it open. She moaned when he took her breast in his hand and squeezed lightly. Feeling her arch against him bashed away at his control.

He sat back, pulled her up to his chest and worked on getting the rest of her clothes off. Shera clumsily pulled on his belt, undid it, and swept it off. She gasped when he suddenly lifted her entirely and yanked away her pants and underclothes.

Completely naked, he set her back on the bed and stared down at her. She flushed under his scrutiny, closing her arms over herself.

“No, no,” he whispered. “What do you need to hide?”

He didn’t let her answer but went for her throat instead, shoving aside her arms. He kissed her throat, her collarbone and worked down to her breasts. He loved how she reacted to him, arching and stretching. She whimpered when he bit too hard but made no effort to stop him. He felt her hands on his hips, pushing down on his pants.

He flipped over, kicked them off—paused Fuck. What the hell! and removed everything else too. He went to resume his spot but suddenly Shera jumped on him. She straddled his leg and leaned over, breasts hanging tantalizingly over his chest. She let her fingers slip over him. He didn’t move, curious now as to what she was doing.

She moved slowly, allowing her fingers to explore him. She moved over his face, into his hair. She flitted her fingers over his ears and across his throat down to his shoulders. She rubbed them for a moment before splaying her hands over his chest.

He tried to relax and enjoy the sensations she was bringing to him but he was having a very hard time. His body was saying, Hey, ready down here! Anytime you wanna launch we’re good to go! He’d been under an amazing amount of stress these last few days, he wasn’t in the mood for slow and romantic.

Cid, my man, this is not a good--

He cut his thought process off. He sat up, forcing her to slide down and flipped her over, taking control again.

“Cid--!”

“Quiet!”

And he moved his hand over her sex and slipped his fingers around. She stiffened. Cid smirked, supported himself on one hand and continued, rolling his fingers in her damp heat. She cried out, moaning and gasping and he made slow circles.

He glanced down—his erection was become a bit more insistent. Yo! Anytime, man! She wasn’t ready, but goddamn, he was. He ground his teeth together but then he felt her hands move. They trailed, like nimble sprites, down his broad shoulders, over his chiseled chest to his abdomen. She moved to his thighs, feeling the muscle there and suddenly grabbed him.

He locked up above her, grunting.

She smiled, eyes narrowed. She massaged him, rubbed him, gave slight tugs and danced her fingertips delicately over his erection.

“Shera,” he gasped out urgently.

“Quiet.”

He glared, ripped her hands away and plunged into her.

She cried out, eyes open wide but seeing nothing.

He did not move slowly nor gently in Shera. He thrust quickly, deeply and hard. She cries were louder and louder each time. Until, finally, her muscles brought the sought-after spasms. This set him off; he knew it would. He gripped his sheets. She dug her nails into his shoulders. They rode out together into the sunset, if you will.


Panting, Cid reached over to grab Shera’s glasses. He reached twice, flailed and tumbled right off the bed.

“Cid!” she cried. She scrambled over to the side. “Are you all right? What happened?” There was a laugh in her voice.

Cid sat on the floor, bewildered. “We moved the goddamn bed about two fucking feet. Didn’t realize it. Was gonna give you your glasses.”

“Oh, I don’t need them,” she said, smiling for him. “Come on.” She gave him her hand and he slipped back into the bed.


Cid threw away his wasted stick and sought another. Yeah. That night with Shera had not been very passionate, not very well thought out, either. He’d been reckless and selfish in his partaking in it. She had hoped for loved. He had…not had any expectations. He hadn’t meant to hurt her like he had but…hell….he’d just returned from battle. He had been…

Cid waved away his own thoughts with his cigarette.

Well…he had hoped to be in love with her. He thought he was at the time. But as the months went by she continued to attempt to mother him, always nagging—Where was he going? Why was he doing that? Why didn’t he clean up his room? Did he eat breakfast? –and she was a serious romantic, something Cid was not very interested in. She wanted sex to be long and slow and smooth. Sure, he could do that every once in a while—but Cid was a man of energy, a man of doings. What did she expect him to do, write her poetry? Buy her silk sheets and roses?

Cid was not a romantic man, or a classic lover. Sure, sex with Shera was pleasant enough but it lacked fire. It lacked…ferocity. Someone like…Tifa would be better suited for him. He laughed out loud when he thought this and thanked whatever Gods were listening that she couldn’t read minds.

Tifa was a martial artist. She’d been in battle. She was strong. If he wanted to toss her up against a wall or have a go on the kitchen table (while Cloud was out, of course, and this thought brought further chuckles from Cid) she’d probably do it.

Now, Yuffie and Aeris. He shuddered and unconsciously touched the red ribbon on his arm. It was too much to think of Aeris like the young daughter he’d never had—even though she was older than Tifa. And Yuffie would probably be too kinky—even for him. Perfect for that son-of-a-bitch, Reno Tarshil.

So yeah. Tifa.

Suddenly realizing what he was thinking, he straightened and shook his thoughts away. She's pissed at you, remember? Asshole.

Anyway, back to Shera.

He liked her better before he knew she was in love with him.

Their last argument had covered this and that was when he told her he was leaving. He could see the look on her face—

“Enough of this,” Cid whispered to himself. He looked into the stars and suddenly wished he were among them again, ignoring the chill that raced up his spine. “Fuckin’ pity party for me.” He slammed his back up against the wall and slid upwards, getting to his feet. Hesitating for a moment, he went back into the house.


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