Ever want to just restart, you know, recon? Put it all in the

Blender

and mix it up.

"You're horribly cute, you know that?" She had yellow eyes.

His were red. They narrowed without a word.

She chuckled. "Yes, horribly cute." Looking around the blackspace she frowned. "And very depressing, let's fix this shall we?" With a wave of her hand, the walls grew from nothing and a friendly looking kitchen settled around them.

The man checked his hip, the back of his pants, and then under each arm.

"Don't be silly, I don't think you'll find a gun anytime soon. I can't abide them, usually. Nasty and loud." She was horribly pretty, even for the strange eyes. The black dress clung to her form and her hair was pulled tightly on her head. "Oh and this contraption shall not do."

When she turned to pay attention to the herbs on the counter, the outfit bled away. In its place was a simple housedress that was worn around the sleeves. "So much better, do you like tea, Vincent?"

His face was trained to not show surprise. The people that trained him would have been proud. "How did you know my name?"

"Oh, you need to talk more. Nice voices get all out of shape if you never use them." She had her back turned to him while she made tea.

This was terribly out of sorts for his usual dreams. He rarely had pretty women in them anymore. She bustled about the kitchen, throwing things in home made tea strainers. "Sit, sit."

He was mistrustful of the chairs and did not comply. "Why a kitchen?" For Vincent it was a strange place for a dream. He wasn't one to cook much.

"Most comfortable place in a house." She seemed satisfied with the cups and water kettle and turned to face him. She looked better with her hair down. "Now, what to do with you… what's your favorite way to look?"

"Does that matter?"

Trim hands went to her hips. There was something powerful behind her emotions. "And you stop that… that… stupidity right this moment, Mr! OF course your happiness matters! And if you would have acted like it mattered from the START, things would be a whole lot different for all of us! Selfish."

"Selfish?" Vincent knew power when he saw it and remained where he was.

"YES! Selfish people think they don't matter to anyone! It's selfish to keep all your emotions to yourself and to think no one cares but you! Now you stop that right now."

Their hair was the same color and his eyebrow arched. "Or else?"

"Not EVERYTHING has to be a threat Vincent Valentine." Oh he'd exasperated her.

He was a Turk first. "Who are you?"

"Don't you mean 'what'?" she smoothed her hair and turned to the kettle.

"I know you're a sorceress. But you're not like Jenova."

"I'm a Former in my time, of course I'm not." After pouring the water, she turned with cups in hand. "Why you choose to be so stupid is beyond me. And I like you this way best."

Vincent accepted the cup and turned to the fridge. Glasses, his hair was long, but tied up, going a little salt and pepper in places. He had on a turtleneck… "I'm old."

"You're going grey early, you're only forty." She settled herself down. "You age very gracefully."

Vincent put a hand on his own hip and glared at her.

"Edea." She sipped at her tea. "Now sit before it gets cold."

"Where's my claw?"

"I didn't like it, impossible thing."

"You don't answer questions well."

"Will you sit down if I do?"

He sat.

"I like your eyes, but I can't pick, red or blue." She smiled again. "Yes, blue. There, you really are a cutiepie you know that?"

"What are you doing here, how did you get here, and what do you want?"

And she laughed again. "Fine, fine, so serious, you need children. They are great at making one enjoy life."

"I'd be a horrible father."

"Maybe a mother." She couldn't help but quip, obviously. "Fine, fine, I'll explain a little. Formers do lose their powers, all of them, but time."

"Seems to me that time is the most powerful one of them."

"You're no where near stupid, why are you so dumb about yourself? Anyway, I'm… there are things going wrong in the future because of this… some of us went bad, you know."

Vincent finally started in on the tea, it was quite good.

This made Edea smile and she continued as though she was more sure of herself. "So, I want to see if I can do something about it. I want to talk to people, get a feel for them. What's your fondest desire?"

"Mine?"

"Yes, Vincent. And don't give me the "I want him to be happy" line. For once, think of yourself."

"Is there a point in all of this?"

"If you had it to do over again, in another venue, another world, what would you change?" She drummed her fingers on the kitchen table.

"Maybe to be the mentor…" Vincent honestly was thinking.

"Why?"

"He's looked out for me in the past; I think I could do the same and stop being a complication."

"Maybe if you just spoke up, you wouldn't be such a complication."

"Some people deserve to be humbly happy, Edea. They deserve children, a spouse, a white picket fence and Veld was… is… will be, whatever time we're in now in relation to the words I'm supposed to say."

She laughed again. "Cute and witty?"

"Har har."

"He'd get bored with that, he'd feel like he'd have to earn it first before he could be happy with it."

It was Vincent's turn to laugh. "Of course he would."

"Would you be willing to have that too?"

Vincent finished his tea and focused on the table. His eyes drifted back up to the reflection of what he may never be in his reality. Older, hell he looked like he was smart. "I'd be willing to try."

"I'll see what I can do."

"What are you planning on?"

It was her turn to pause. "I don't know, Vincent. Maybe if I put everyone in the right places, things won't turn out so badly."

"Define badly."

Tears threatened yellow eyes. "Please don't make me."

He wasn't stone cold. "Edea, you can't force happy endings."

"No…" her voice broke a little, "but god I want one so badly."

"I'm not a hero, Edea, neither is he."

"I'm tired of heroes. I just want things to turn out content. Endings don't have to be happy, I just don't want them to be this bad."

"Aren't I the last person on earth who would be talked to about any sort of closure?"

She shook her head. "No, closure is what we both need. And I'm willing to fight for it. Are you?"

"I told you I was willing to try."

And then his world was black again, her voice echoed in places deep in his head. "Then let's begin."