Title: Jar of Hearts

Genre: Romance, Drama, Horror/Gore, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Summary: Although the demons had the protomateria to keep them contained, they needed something else to keep themselves satiated. Vincent was willing to keep this a secret but certain events were making it more difficult than he had anticipated. Especially when a certain blonde pilot was trying to enlist his help but only ended up making things all the more complicated...

Warnings: Swearing, smut (gratuitous smut at that!), gore, blood, smoking, drugs, lewdness, emo-ness, OOC-ness, adult themes...

Disclaimer: Don't think I've ever seen a plot like this, so I guess I own it... But I highly doubt that as well...

Side Note: This is just a teaser. Standard chapters will be around two-thousand words (double the size of this chapter). This is what won on my poll.


"Aww," Cid grinned as he wrapped his arm around Vincent's waist before taking a gulp of the golden liquid in his glass. "C'mon, Val! Ain't like I'm askin' fer ya to pull of yer pants an' give the whole damn bar a show! Jus' wanna know what the fuck ya meant when ya told the brat that ya got somethin' in yer pants that ain't fer her!" Shifting closer in the dingy bar, the blonde pressed his heated body against the gunner's leather-clad form.

"...Curiosity killed the cat," Vincent muttered before curling his long, gloved fingers against the glass bottle of his beer and lifting it to his lips. Taking a drink, the brunette tried to focus on anything but the warm body that pressed against his side. Acrid smoke filled the bar and the surrounding air around them, casting the dim setting into thin veil of smoke and making it all the more difficult to smell the sweet scent of the pilot's shampoo.

Snorting, the blonde reached over and picked up his lit cigarette from the ashtray before tapping away the gray ash and taking a long drag. "Ya know she's practically in love with ya, right?"

"I know," the brunette replied as a deep laughter resounded in his mind. Reaching over, the gunner plucked the cigarette from between Cid's lips, taking a drag from it before placing it. The sound of the pilot's following chuckles sent a shiver up his spine and made the hair on the nape of his neck stand on end.

"Ya can always bum a fag, Val," the blonde said before taking another drag of the cigarette and another gulp of his whiskey. "Ain't gonna smack yer hand fer tryin' to take one."

"...I know," Vincent replied again as he leaned back farther into the leather cushioning of the booth. He was always far more relaxed sitting in some seedy bar with the Captain than being in the Seventh Heaven with the rest of Avalanche there. Maybe it was because the blonde was much easier to talk to when separated from the group. Maybe it was because if he so much as said a word in front of the rest of the group they acted like they had never heard him speak before and a simple question from his lips could tell them the secrets to life. ...Maybe it was because Yuffie clung to him at every given chance...

"So?" the blonde grinned at him, the filter of the cigarette clamped firmly between his teeth.

"...So?" the brunette countered as though he had no idea what the blonde was alluding too.

"Ya going to ask fer a fag or not?" Cid asked before fishing out his crumpled and torn package of cigarettes. Vincent had always wondered how the precious bounty that he kept hidden underneath the flimsy box managed to survive the daily beating that the carton often took.

"...I am quite fine, thank you."

Cid laughed before punching Vincent in the arm and tucking the carton of cigarettes back into his pocket. "So, Val, ya heard 'bout what's been goin' on 'round here lately? Some poor fuckers got snuffed all 'round this bar late at night. One person each night fer the last couple of weeks. People are freaked; screamin' that there's some serial murderer runnin' 'round Rocket Town. Fuckin' idiots. Had to set up a goddamn curfew today to calm 'em down."

"...Is that why we are drinking at four in the afternoon?"

"Heh, well it ain't like yer complainin', Val!" Cid grinned before taking another drag and blowing the smoke straight up. "Shit, another one buys it today an' that'll make thirteen. Fuckin' local mortician told me if one more shows up, he's shippin' the body to Midgar to see if they can figure out the cause of death...well, 'sides the gapin' hole in their chest. Ya mind runnin' patrol with me tonight, Val? Swear to fuck if Shera keeps tryin' to go with me I'm going to lose my fuckin' mind and I'll be the one locked up fer murder!"

"...I'm busy..."

"Yeah, try that again with a little more conviction an' I might believe ya. Fuck that, I won't. The fuck are ya so "busy" with? There a vampire stakin' ya got to go to?" the pilot asked with a grin. "Are ya going to be the vampire that gets staked?"

"...No."

"C'mon, Val! Ain't like I'm askin' to suck yer dick or pull yer teeth out! Just need someone I can trust to watch my back while we go walkin' through the dark of Rocket Town hopin' to stumble cross a wing nut that likes to kill drunk people." Vincent was not sure which part should make him feel flattered: that Cid's first verbal option was to service him orally or that he trusted him enough to ask him to watch out for him while searching for a serial killer.

"...You're drunk, Chief."

"I'm fuckin' fine an' ya know it!" the blonde snapped before grinning and finishing off his drink before climbing over Vincent's lap and out of the booth, standing beside the gunner. Stumbling before standing upright, the pilot grinned victoriously at the brunette man dressed in red fabric and black leather. "A little tipsy, but fuckin' fine!"

A sudden scream came from outside, gathering every one of the patrons' attention and causing the blonde to spin around and get a glass of red wine poured onto the front of his shirt. "Shit!" he cursed to himself before grabbing his lance and running outside towards the sound of the scream. Vincent quickly followed the Cid out of the smoky bar and into the chill air that descended upon the rural town in late fall.

As he followed the blonde, he noticed that the darkening sky held a glimpse of red from the almost set sun, leaving them a bit of daylight to witness a hysterically sobbing woman trembled as she clung to the man next to her.

"...Fuckin' thirteen," Cid hissed as he eyed the splattered blood that lined the alleys walls and dirt floor; a male figure lied slumped against the dumpster and splattered with his own blood with a softball-sized hole in his chest. The edges of gaping space was torn and shredded, leaving little flesh or cloth to obstruct the view of the bloody mess that was left behind. "...Ya sure ya don't want to stay, Val?"

"...I have a date," the gunner muttered before looking away from the blonde. "...With Yuffie."

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