A/N: Hey fellas I'm Ba-ack! It's been like 3 years since I submitted anything so I figured I should put something up. My first Final Fantasy VII story so go easy on me. I will willingly admit that I am a raving Valenstrife fan and that I'm not really into Valenwind (mostly 'cause from the ones I've read they overuse Cid's swearing and always make Vincent a crybaby)(though I'm sure that they're not all that way but that's just the trend I've seen). So why you ask, did I decide to write a Valenwind? that's easy I didn't decide...my dreams did. I literally had this as a dream so...yeah umm, it was an interesting food for thought so I ran with it. First chappy doesn't really have much plot to it, it just is the base it which I will hopefully be able to build a fairly good story. I didn't have beta reader so if you see any mistakes feel free to let me know. Flames will be use to power my machine of world domination...also known as a toaster. I'll stop blabbing now so you can read the story.

But first the disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story...blah, blah, blah they belong to Square Enix...blah, blah, blah but if I won the lottery, which isn't likely to happen, then I would totally buy the right's to remake this game for the new gen systems. I'll shut up now.

Let the story begin.

The room was dark; the only form of illumination came from the full moon streaming through the open window. It was half-past midnight as Cid Highwind pulled a finished cigarette butt out of his mouth and stubbed it out in the ashtray next to him. The pilot then shifted his weight and went back to sharpening his spear. The darkness didn't bother the captain much at all, actually he preferred the room dark that way he had a clear view of the many millions of stars shining in the night sky. As he worked Cid's thoughts turned to the quest he was currently on and the reason he had decided to join it.

The quest that was easy to figure out: kill Sephiroth that damned psychotic ex-SOLDIER, and hopefully destroy Shinra along the way before the corporation could further harm the planet. As for the reason, that was less straight forward. He guessed that it was because he knew the planet was dying and that if left unchecked either Sephiroth or Shinra could ultimately bring the planet—and all those living on it—to their doom. Maybe that was the reason he felt compelled to join AVALANCHE to do something about them before things on any more out of hand.

Another reason—possibly closer to the truth—was that he wanted to be a hero; to show that Cidney Keith Highwind Captain Extraordinaire was the best in the world. And maybe just maybe in his travels he'd find a way to restart the space program and be able to be the first person in outer space. Cid smiled faintly at that but a sudden voice interrupted his nighttime daydreams.

"I hope death is kind to you, Cid…" the voice was deep and nostalgic, freezing in the air like ice and causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. The pilot jumped up dropping his spear in the process, "Goddamnit Vincent, give me a Fkin' heart attack why don't cha!?"

After a second the pilot calmed, mentally cursing himself for forgetting about his roommate; not that it was easy to tell that he was there to begin with. The stoic gunman hadn't said anything for hours, leading Cid to assume that he was asleep—that is—if he even slept anymore. After all, from what he had heard from the other party members, Vincent had been found sleeping in a coffin and had been there for more than thirty years.

'Who could sleep in a coffin, especially for thirty years?' he wondered briefly before his memory jumped back to what the man had just said.

"Vincent, just what the hell do you mean by that?" No answer. Growling Cid turned and peered into the darkness in the direction the voice had originated from trying to make out figure of the ex-turk. After a few moments his eyes adjusted to the darker end of the room and there among the shadows was Vincent. He sat backward on the hotels desk chair with his right hand resting across the back of the chair. His left hand—or rather the clawed gauntlet he wore on his left arm—was in front of him and he was flexing it slowly.

The thing that surprised Cid the most was Vincent's eyes. Those orbs of bloody crimson glowed rather eerily in the dark. Cid cocked his head to one side to get a better view of he companions' nearly hidden face. The dark shadows of the room played off Vincent's sullen features, and along with his glowing red eyes, only served to make the gunman look more demonic. However, as Cid stepped closer the expression on Vincent's face proved to be exactly the opposite of the previous description. Vincent's expression was one such that of the possibility of slight confusion and also…was that fear? The look on Vincent's face as he watched his claw flex was as if it was unfamiliar to him—like he was seeing it for the first time…

A/N: A VERY short chapter but hopefully I'll be able to get the next chapter up soon.

Vincent: why am I looking a my hand?

Shadow of the doubt: that's a carefully guarded secret. If I told you I'd have to kill you.

Vincent:...

Cid: you can't kill him, he's already dead. So what now?

Shadow of the doubt: We wait to see if anyone reviews, all while I type up the next chapter to help this story make more sense. 'Til then R&R! (Read and Review)