Author's Note: Zack and Aerith are so cute (in complete disregard of your preferences) so this will probably be a lot less graphic. They were so adorable in Crisis Core, that I decided they'd be the subjects of my next story. I am also pretending in this story that Zack never died in FF7CC.

Pink Forget-Me-Nots

Zack Fair had been gone a long time. A very long time. Four years to be exact, and then the few weeks it took to get his catatonic friend to a hospital in Wutai. Cloud was on the mend thanks to the Wutai doctors and their innate hatred of Shinra. Zack had calmly explained to the leaders that he and Cloud were escaped test subjects that Shinra wanted very badly, so naturally the Wutai leaders promised to keep their blond patient a secret from the outside world.

Cloud was still traumatized by whatever those dogs had put him through, but he was making progress. Zack had hardly left his best friend's bedside for two weeks, and it was he who saw recognition register in Cloud's impossibly blue eyes first.

"Zack…" Was the only word to come out of his chapped lips and it sounded thick and heavy on his tongue, as if the name weighed thirty pounds. "Zack."

Still it was enough to make happiness rise in Zack's chest like a bubble and, for the first time in a while, he felt hope for his dearest friend. Not long after, Cloud was on his feet, taking the shaky steps of a child as he followed Zack around. And people called Zack a puppy…

Zack was so fond of his comrade that it was not without a great deal of pain that he decided to take a visit to Midgar and leave Cloud in Wutai. Even after he had found a ride to the city in the back of a dilapidated old truck, Zack could not bear to look back at the medical bay and see Cloud at the window, wondering why Zack was leaving him.

As the truck rattled down the plains toward Midgar, the feeling of pain dulled and was overtaken by a rise of excitement. He was going to see Aerith.

Strangely enough, her serene face had never faded from his memory. Even when he was trapped in his containment cell or strapped to a gurney or hiding in the filthiest of alleys, he could always recall that delicately sculpted face and those huge green eyes. Even now, thinking about her brought a surge of warmth into his chest. He leaned his head against the back window of the truck and closed his eyes.

It had been four years, so she was probably twenty-one or twenty-two… he sincerely hoped that she hadn't forgotten him.

Completely by accident, Zack fell asleep and when he woke up, at first he thought it was nighttime outside. But no. With realization and subsequent disgust, Zack noted he was in the foul slums of Midgar, the sky completely obscured from view. It could have been any time in this hellhole.

Still he was rested, and with thanks to the driver, Zack easily launched himself out of the bed of the truck and onto the streets.

People didn't give him a second glance, which was surprising to Zack. He stood at 6'3", had eyes that practically glowed blue, black hair spiked like a chocobo, and a sword strapped to his back that was nearly as tall as he was. Either he had overestimated his good looks or these people were desensitized to strange sights like him.

"Ah, where should I go?" He asked himself, scratching the nape of his neck, a dog-like habit he had always been teased about. Then, with enough force to kill another person, he punched his hand in realization. "Oh! The church!"

People instinctively cleared the streets as Zack Fair sprinted through the crowds, back in Midgar again.

….

Aerith Gainsborough leaned against her flower cart and fingered the petals of a pristine white lily. The poor cart was reaching the end of its' days: the wood paneling was coming apart, the handle and axle were rusted, and last week one of the wheels had fallen off entirely.

The man who was kind enough to fix it for her had strongly recommended that she invest in a new cart and Aerith had kindly ignored his advice. Aside from the pink ribbon that adorned her braid every day, the handmade cart was the only memento she had left of Zack.

Even now she clutched the rusted handle of the cart, lest it should try to escape from her.

She wore a long, bright pink dress everyday just in case Zack came back. She ached to see the look in his rakish blue eyes and his infectious white smile when he saw her in the color he had suggested for her to wear so long ago.

Business was slow today. Aerith usually had a few regular customers, the occasional rich patron who pitied the flower poor girl, and then there were the men who came to buy flowers just for an excuse to talk to her. Aerith took it in stride; although she was flattered by their attention, Zack was still the only one in her heart.

She put her hands over heart, as was her habit when she was thinking or if she was sad, like now. She had written Zack eighty-nine letters and had received no response; the thought had occurred to her that he was dead…but that was impossible. She would have known. She would have felt it.

Aerith was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice when a few people gathered around her. She snapped out of her daze and looked up, forcing her sweet trademark smile on her lips.

"Can I help you?"

She wanted to give a heaving sigh after seeing who her customers were. The group of boys always gave her trouble when they saw her and it looked as though today they were not going to make an exception. She wished she had brought her heavy metal staff.

"Can I help you?" She repeated, less warmly than before.

The roughest-looking one, naturally the leader, gave her the politest smile he could muster, and did not even pretend to be interested in the flowers in her cart.

"What are you selling?"

She thought it was glaringly obvious. "I grow flowers. Do you want any?" She seriously doubted they did.

One of the others leered at her. "You should sell your body, not the flowers. You'll make more money that way." It felt as though lava was rising in Aerith's throat; she rarely got angry but they were pushing her towards one of these rare times. Calmly as she could manage, she fought down the heat and glared at them coldly.

"If you have nothing better to do than insult me, I suggest you move on."

As she turned to see if she had any magic materia in her bolero jacket, Aerith felt a rough hand clasp her wrist. She felt sorry for the small gang. Little did they know, but Aerith Gainsborough was tougher than she looked.

….

Zack was amazed that no one on the street gave the fight a second look. He knew that Sector 7 was a rough town, but he hadn't recalled it being this bad.

There were six guys all up against one girl in a long pink dress, who was holding her own pretty well, even with no weaponry. She already had one of the guys out cold on the sidewalk and another was sporting a broken nose. Still the odds were highly unfair and, personally, he intended to do something about it.

As he ran towards the fight, Zack saw a splash of color from behind the girl's slight form. He skidded to a halt, mouth agape as he recognized the battered, rusted, and still very ugly flower cart he had made for Aerith so long ago…this was right before one of the thugs tripped and fell on it, smashing the old wood beneath his heavy frame.

Zack saw her brown braid spin, and when she saw the broken cart Aerith cried as though someone had broken her heart. That cry was enough to make Zack melt with sorrow and burn angrily at the same time. He could practically feel the mako in his blood crackling with energy. It increased tenfold when one of the bastards still standing noticed her moment of distraction and clipped her on the jaw.

Zack didn't even need to aim when his sword was in his hand. Just one swing was enough to sunder the concrete into six pieces and the angry power he expelled from such an attack was more than enough to blast the remaining thugs into the brick wall. Aerith remained untouched.

Zack jammed his sword into an un-cracked part of the concrete, the sharp blade sliding through, as if the stone was butter. Only Zack was strong enough to pull it out again.

Aerith had not even noticed that someone had come to her aid. She was kneeling next to her splintered cart, cradling the fragments of wood in her hands. A tiny drop of blood dripped out of the corner of her lovely mouth, only fueling Zack's hatred. He stepped on one of the unconscious men, hearing a satisfactory snap of breaking bone. Aerith did not even look up.

"No…" She whispered, clutching the wood until the splinters dug into her skin. "No…"

Zack's hand trembled as he reached for her bare shoulder. For the past four years he had dreamed about her, about holding her one more time, about smelling the lilies and clean air on her skin and in her hair. His dream was about to coalesce into this one moment.

His fingers brushed her shoulder, lighter than air, soft as a kiss or flower petals. It sent electric through his arm.

Aerith turned, perhaps remembering that someone in this hellhole had come to her assistance, but she still clutched the fragments of the cart he had made her like a lifeline. She looked up at him and for a moment her eyes were clouded with the most profound sorrow he had ever seen.

Even now, just like the first time he had seen her, he was struck by just how lovely Aerith was.

Now that she was older, her features were sharper, more defined, but her lips were still perfect and full, her skin flushed pink, and her abundant hair flashing all sorts of chestnut and mahogany and brown. His favorite feature of hers had also remained unchanged: her huge, luminous green eyes were still just as gorgeous, sparking with all the life of an emerald fire. A man could lose himself in her eyes… especially as the sorrow cleared and recognition set in.

Aerith dropped the splinters, blood running down her petite hands and her mouth dropped open.

"Aerith…" Zack choked. He had meant to sound more dignified, like the SOLDIER he was, strong and in control. But the sight of her angelic face had shattered all of his pretenses and his heart very well could have been in the palms of her bleeding hands. "Aerith."

"Zack?" She said it at first as if she couldn't believe her eyes. She reached out her trembling hands and stroked the cross-shaped scar on the side of his cheek. Swiftly, he clutched her hand so it stayed on his face. With a gasp, two tears rolled down Aerith's cheeks before she broke into a smile so beautiful, Zack could not explain it or compare it to anything else in the living world. "Zack. ZACK!"

She was so tiny in comparison to him, and he made a very conscious effort not crush her as she threw herself against his chest. It felt so good to hold her…to feel how soft she was. And she was wearing pink.

Without breaking the embrace, Zack lifted her effortlessly into the air (stepped on another unconscious man, which broke at least two more bones) and yanked his sword out of the road, before walking towards her church. No one in the slums gave the spectacle a second glance.

"You're alive." Aerith said, almost in laughter as she gripped big fistfuls of his shirt. She was obviously not going to let him go again. "I knew. I knew you weren't dead, even though you didn't write me back." She drew back so she could look in his eyes. "Where did you go?"

Zack sighed. He didn't want to mar Aerith's beautiful innocence with all the horror he had experienced. "Hell. I was in Hell."

She tilted her head and her green eyes filled with love, sorrow, hurt, curiosity, and understanding. "But you're free now…and you came back." Her lips quivered as she smiled.

Zack nodded. "I missed angels."

Aerith's church had changed very little in the time since Zack had left, except perhaps the wooden doors were a bit more fragile looking. Seeing as how his arms were filled with Aerith, Zack had to focus so his kick wouldn't blast the door completely off its' hinges. Metal doors had suffered a worse fate under his combat boot.

Luckily he managed to nudge it open gently and he carried Aerith to the first empty bench.

Like any good SOLDIER, he came prepared and drew one of his potions from the pocket on his belt. Painstakingly, he plucked every last splinter from Aerith's bleeding hands before massaging half of the potion into the cuts. The rest he rubbed on her right cheek where a bruise was forming. And once the potion was gone, he continued to kneel in front of her, clutching her healing hands in his.

Aerith rested her forehead on his, her brown bangs mingling with his black spikes. "You've changed…"

Zack closed his eyes. This was peace. Shinra had successfully tamed his fire, nearly crushing him in the process. He was still as restless as ever, but now he had found his peace…finally.

He held up her hands and kissed her palms, now smooth and lovely again. Aerith responded by brushing her lips against his forehead. Zack felt himself flushing red and Aerith laughed quietly.

"Well…maybe not that much…"

Zack moved his head so he was looking up at her. She was bringing out the Zack he had lost, and it was as comforting as falling asleep knowing that he was completely safe. "I love you." He said it before he thought about it, something he hadn't done in a while. "I always have. Every day."

If she refused him, Zack knew he would break. That all the stress he had endured was going to put his flame like a bucket of water.

Aerith gasped before swiftly leaning down and kissing him on the lips. Her lips barely touched his at first, and they felt like silk; Zack realized she was waiting for him, as always, waiting. He was astonished to find that his body was reacting before his mind again, as his hands wove deftly into her thick, soft braid and pulled her closer.

It was as if a wave had washed over him, smoothing all his rough surfaces, erasing everything horrible he had done and all the terrors that had been bestowed on him. Now, in this church, there was nothing: no lies, no darkness, no more nightmarish corruption; he and Aerith were the only two things that existed.

Aerith broke away first and tears were pouring down her face as she put both of her hands on both of his cheeks.

"I missed you so much! I love you so much that it broke my heart! You can't! You can't ever leave me again!" Zack was too shocked to reply; Aerith was always so giving, so nurturing, and she was hardly ever selfish. He felt a certain sense of pride, that she valued him so much she was willing to be selfish. "Everyone I love leaves me… you can't…Not you."

Zack easily kissed both of her wet cheeks before wiping them off with his thumbs. Cloud and Aerith. He would fight hard for the both of them. It would be difficult in this world that was trying to tear them apart, but he was a SOLDIER, and he would do it. He nodded.

Aerith looked over him, her breathing still choked with pent up tears, her thin shoulders shaking. And then her green eyes caught fire.

She practically threw herself at him, and crushed those petal-soft lips of hers against his. Zack didn't know if her emotions were flowing into his body or if he was feeling the same way, but there was something about this kiss. It was full of love, true, but at the same time there was something necessary about it. Aerith needed it. And Zack found that he needed it as well.

He had to make a conscious effort not to crush her in his arms, but his body screamed for him to get closer, some how, some way, as if it wanted to consume her whole. Aerith however seemed to feel the same way as she was gripping Zack as though she still could not believe he was real.

It was rare that Zack lost himself anymore. He had to be constantly on alert these days to make sure he wasn't being trailed or targeted. But now he wasn't thinking at all and things were just…happening.

First, somehow he had lifted Aerith off the bench, without ceasing to kiss her, and was now lying underneath of her. Second, his hands were now memorizing every curve of her petite body through the pink fabric of her dress.

Aerith placed her hands directly over his heart. And then she kissed the spot over his heart. And then the place between his collarbones. And then his chin. Until she was back on his lips again.

Zack cradled her, marveling at how light she felt and his hands began to weave deftly in and out of her braid, releasing waves of her brown hair. Zack was shocked to find that she still wore the pink ribbon he had bought her so long ago. Pink was definitely her color.

Aerith kissed the palms of Zack's hands before relieving him of his gloves. In comparison to hers, his hands were huge, rough and scarred, only capable of causing destruction. He felt like crying.

"Hey." Aerith murmured, pulling his face up to look at hers. "Hey. You're not a monster. You're not." And she kissed both of his eyelids.

Zack sighed, his heart feeling lighter just from being around her and he jumped as her hands guided his to her beautiful, soft chest. She looked up at him and nodded in assent; his hands couldn't help but squeeze. He had been so used to his own and Cloud's rock hard muscle, that Aerith felt soft as a cloud in comparison.

But he didn't want to feel her with the fabric barrier; his large hands shook as he traveled to undo the tiny buttons that cinched up the center of her gown. His trembling was so intense that he feared he would rip the dress, but Aerith waited patiently, allowing him to undo the first button before she took over. Within seconds, the dress hung loose on her, the two sides only just concealing her nipples. Zack felt like he should kneel before her and worship her.

"Where's my Zack?" Aerith asked, her voice hitching. "You were always so sure. Aren't you sure? Don't you want me?"

Zack did not even honor her question with a response, but answered Zack-style: with action. His hands almost encircled her back as he pulled the very center of her chest to his lips, feeling her heart beating through skin and bone. She smelled like lilies and rain…

Aerith slid the straps of her dress down her arms revealing her glorious bare torso. Zack realized that the reason pink looked so stunning on her was because her white skin was all pink undertones; she practically glowed rose.

Zack was so in awe of her that he could only trace the outline of her body, reveling in the warmth and softness. He only ceased as Aerith pulled his sweater over his head, his leather suspenders falling slack to his belt. Dutifully he lifted up his arms and she slid the rest of the fabric up over his head, the tips of her unraveling braid tickling his bare stomach.

Aerith gasped at the sight and Zack flushed with shame.

Aerith's green eyes got wide as she surveyed the patchwork quilt that was Zack Fair's torso. Huge scars interlaced like lightning bolts over hard, quivering muscle and the places that had been stitched back together were as clear as day, like a white labyrinth over his skin. His rippling, muscular chest was riddled with the scars of injections and incisions, discolored from burns and poisons, some of the veins almost black they were so dark. His torso had been ravaged.

Aerith began to trace the lines with her cool fingertips and Zack quivered at the feeling. He was so used to people slicing him up and making him into a monster that the touch of an angel was unprecedented and…wonderful.

"What happened?" She asked quietly, rising and falling with his breathing.

Zack closed his eyes. "They tried to kill me."

"Oh Zack!" She cried before swooping down on his chest and kissing every scar and discoloration on his skin. "I'm glad they didn't…"

Zack's heart swelled with love and he easily scooped Aerith up; she grabbed big fistfuls of his black spikes and crossed her legs over his hips as he ran his tongue over her pink skin, lapping like a puppy. Aerith released soft gasps as his wet tongue left long trails of saliva over her velvety skin, soft nipples and even down in her belly button. If it hadn't felt so wonderful, she would have been laughing, it tickled so badly.

Old Zack was returning to his body, doing as he liked, no matter the roughness or sloppiness, and Aerith cried out as his teeth nipped her skin or his thumbs rubbed her raw. She was rapidly turning from pink to red. And Zack already had an erection; she could feel it through his pants.

When he pulled away, his face was also as red as her breasts and he was panting, like a tired puppy.

"Zack," She whispered through labored breath. "Take your pants off. Get some relief…"

Zack did not want to tear himself away from her satiny skin but the pressure and heat in the crux of his pants was so intense that his legs were sweating. Cool air was starting to sound just as nice as Aerith's body. Zack shed his pants and underwear in record speed and Aerith laughed out loud.

Zack gave a shout of embarrassment at the wetness of his legs and pelvis; but who could blame him? He hadn't masturbated in over four years and he was naturally a little too excited…

As Zack attempted to clean his legs a little, Aerith removed her bracelets and dress and shoes and underwear, also surveying the huge bite marks that dotted her stomach. But it was almost worth the expression Zack gave when he saw Aerith's naked body in front of him.

Her limbs and torso were long and graceful, and she looked like an angel with her wavy chestnut hair flowing down past her waist. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and Zack embraced her waist, his hands grasping her perfect, round ass. The action sent shivers up Aerith's lithe body, as his mouth was just above her most sensitive area, whether or not he realized it.

Zack moved back so he was looking up at her, his flower, his angel, his goddess, and the look in his kingfisher-blue eyes was an emotional mix of love, awe, fear, sorrow, and happiness. She sank to her knees so they were at eye level and Zack stroked her cheeks.

"Aerith. I am…so strong." She believed him. In all her time in Midgar, she had never seen anyone in more impeccable shape than Zack. He seemed as though he had been carved from marble. "I don't know my own strength. I'm wild and crazy; they made me into a monster so I could destroy things…and I'm so afraid. I'm so afraid I might lose myself and hurt you." She held his hands as he stroked her cheeks. "If I hurt you…you have to tell me because…they made me so I could destroy things, hurt people. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you."

Aerith kissed his forehead, then his lips. "So long as you're with me, you can't ever hurt me. I hurt the most…when I don't know where you are. You're safe Zack. You're safe with me."

Zack had heard a great deal of hollow promises in his life; this was not one of them. He was really and truly safe.

Aerith used her small, gentle hands to push Zack down on the floor, his head landing in the grass that grew from the center of the broken floorboards. And she sat on top of him easily, a shiver resonating from the top of her head to the tips of his feet. The warmth was unbelievable.

She placed her hands on his chest, one on each pec, and he put his hands on her hips, moving her with him. Her head rolled with pleasure and her brown waves of hair pooled on his chest and tickled his torso every time he thrust his hips up into hers. Zack was astounded that he had enough self-control that he wanted to go slow and steady, and make sure he did not hurt her in any way. Zack had changed, but in this way it was for the better. He was gentle; Shinra had not made him a destructive monster. He was still tender.

Slowly he ran his hands from her hips, up her slender waist, her shaking arms, and he set to work massaging her already red breasts. Her mouth opened in a little O of pleasure and Zack found himself making noises of love that started in his crotch and echoed up into his throat.

"Aerith!" he gasped, the heat in his penis reaching a boiling point. "I can't…hold it…!" He was ashamed that his duration was so short, but he was at his limit.

Aerith smiled down at him with the utmost of benevolence, and stroked the scar on his cheek, her sweat dripping down onto his body. "It's ok… I can't either…besides we have…hours…days…forever…"

Zack grinned up at her; it was his rakish, wild, loving smile that Aerith had so longed to see. And he embraced his goddess, with no intent of ever letting her go.

….

Somehow the two of them had ended up lying amongst the flowers (Zack, once again, had no idea as to how this had come about). He didn't really care either. He was looking at Aerith, the most angelic woman on the face of the planet, with her wavy brown hair draped all over her pink, glowing skin. Currently, she was carefully watching the large globe of luminous materia that she had rested in her belly button. Zack had never seen any other like it.

"What will you do now?" She asked him softly, turning her head so that she could look into his eyes. Zack had often heard his eyes were magnetic, they were so blue, but he would never truly get over the beauty and depth of Aerith's eyes. It was as if the Lifestream was compressed in her wide irises.

He smiled and curled her bangs behind her ear. "I want to come back here. To Sector Seven. I have some unfinished business with the Shinra Corporation…" They would pay for what they had done to Cloud and him.

"And then?" Her eyes were full of expectation.

"I'd like to live here." He folded his hands behind his head. "Make it a better place for you. And for my friend."

She picked up her materia and laid her head on his chest. He instinctively began to stroke her hair. "Your friend?"

"Yeah, my best friend, Cloud. You'd like him a lot. He's really sick right now, but he's getting better and once he can hold himself up I'm going to bring him here. Yeah, I'd like to make a place where you and Cloud can live without fear." Zack kissed her forehead.

"Cloud…What a funny name." Aerith giggled. "I'd like that." She rested the materia on Zack's chest and he watched it, the greenish white energy inside the crystal glowing like a galaxy. "Something big is about to happen. I can feel it."

Zack held her close, as he would always. "I'll protect you…and build you a new flower cart."