Rainy Day

(Or, "In Which Yuffie Makes A Friend")

By Mistress Delavaire

"Open your eyes to the skies up above
Now is the time to express my love
Want you to hear my confession
Do what you will do but I can't help the way I feel for you"

((Your LoveKylie Minogue))

((A/N: I present this to you with a mixture of fear and apprehension. This was the FIRST fan fiction I ever wrote (I found it hidden within my files) and I felt like, you know, giving you something to read while I work strenuously on chapter 6 of ATR and rework SV (I re-edited this today just for you all!). Soo...Read and enjoy, and be sure to leave a happy review (try not to flame. It makes me cry...if you really wanna, I guess it's okay, but...bleh.)!…by the way, this fanfic is AU. That's right. Alternate Universe! It's short, I know, but I hope you all enjoy it..

PS: I had a lot of trouble thinking on how they'd start the story telling. So...it's probably really weakly written around that area. Forgive me! If anyone wants to help re-work that part, please, email me! I'll give credit and such, I really need the help! send it to nyago38yahoo (dot) com))

Summary: (AU) Stuck with his partner during a rainy day at work, Vincent Valentine learns more about his co-worker than he had ever expected. (Ages changed) (Yuffentine) (A teensy bit of OOC-ness. Meebe a lot. I don't really know at this point.)

Disclaimer: (I never use these but...) Do you really think I'd write fan fiction if I OWNED Final Fantasy VII?

Ages:

Yuffie: 23

Vincent: 27 (Okay, okay, so I didn't change his age. Sue me. No! Wait! I was just kidding!)

Thunder crackled overhead, rain pelting through the darkness that was accompanied by the setting sun, splashing into pools and puddles from previous storms that month. Within this quiet, empty town, no soul stood outside, save for the occasional person bundled and protected with an umbrella, hurrying off towards their destination. Nestled near the mountainous exit of the quaint and quiet town stood a wooden post, intricately carved writing inscribed upon the aforementioned wood. Avalanche Detective Agency it read, with an arrow pointing towards a foreboding mansion. Partially hidden behind an old rickety stone fence and wrought iron fence, the heavily shadowed mansion was a humbling sight. Within, however, it was anything but that.

((((Scene))))

"Bored bored bored…I'm so damn bored!" She yelled, disgruntled, stamping her foot against the thick wood paneling that lined the floor. The loud, resounding thunk that met her ears was not only the accompanying sound of her booted foot against the wood but the sound of a heavy book being slammed shut from above. Obviously, someone upstairs was not happy with the noise she had been making for the past half hour, her mind mused absently. Listening carefully, the girl heard the heavy scraping of a chair as it was pushed back, and the sound of footfalls echoing against the heavy grained wood floor above. Hiding behind a pillar beneath the staircase, lest the inhabitant come downstairs in a fit (though god knew he rarely showed any emotion, it was best not to take the risk. Once upon a time they had been on a mission, and he had been truly angered. More like a force of nature, she did not want to bring his wrath upon her), the young woman listened with the sharp hearing of a ninja, pressing closer to the beam.

(((Scene)))

"Damn it all…" He said, rubbing his temples with thumb and forefinger. His elbow resting against the book he had been translating, the man listened to the thumping and yelling from the lower floor. "…I despise the days when it does nothing more than rain." He whispered, softly, before slamming the book shut, knowing that though the floors were thick, the walls that were shared by both floors (for they stretched from floor to floor with one large beam...you get what I mean.) were thin and immediately below the thumping stopped. Slowly standing, he pulled the black collar of his thin cotton sweater a little higher, pulling absently at the spot beneath his adams apple, stretching the cloth a bit. With a shake of his head, the man slowly exited his room. Turning swiftly, he slowly walked the other direction from the grand staircase descending down the smaller one that led to the kitchen at the other end of the hall.

((Scene))

Frowning, Yuffie turned to lean against the scratchy wooden pillar. Eyes the color of a raging hurricane blinked slowly, sliding down, staying at the half-lidded position as she pondered over the thought of her partner simply ignoring her. Running a small and slightly tanned hand through her short ebony hair, Yuffie let out a sigh of defeat. "Maybe he's tired of my constant piquing of his temper, and is ignoring me today…" She let out another sigh, rubbing her fingers together to generate warmth. The otherwise empty abandoned-mansion-turned-detective-head quarters was freezing. "Wonder if the old owners moved out because they got so cold in the winter…" she said, a smile spreading across her slightly rounded face. Pulling her trench coat a little closer, Yuffie hugged her arms about herself, gathering a little more heat.

"I hate coming in on a rainy day for work...especially when none is here but me and Vincent. It gets so boring. All he does is work on murder investigations in that stupid office in there, and I sit and am bored and look out at the rain. I have nothing to do! No one ever reports a new case, so I just sit here and don't get paid because I have nothing to work on! I bet it's a conspiracy! Heh, they want to bore me to death, that's all..." Originally yelling, Yuffie's 'impassioned' speech of sorts slowly slid into a quiet, aggravated grumble, tapping attached to a jean clad leg, a meticulously polished black booted toe upon the floor. A slight reverberation, a tiny echo, followed each and every tap, turning it into a bit of a musical serenade to the young woman. That's what it seemed like anyways. Humming lightly, she bobbed her head a bit to an upbeat song, one that she had recently heard on the radio.

"Ugh...guess it's best not to think about it." she said a few minutes later, walking from behind the pillar, her previous concerns all but banished from her mind. Feeling a bit tired, Yuffie walked slowly towards the kitchen, hoping to grab a cup of coffee or something slightly caffinated. "Good afternoon Vincent.." She said without thinking. Suddenly, with the clicking and whirling of the gears in her brain, the fact that Vincent Valentine sat, relaxed, upon one of the chairs about the kitchen table, newspaper in one hand, a large mug of still hot coffee in the other, registered. "Vincent? What are you doing, you know, not, eh, working?" He merely sipped the fragrant drink, the shifting of his body causing the a smooth lock of luscious black hair to fall down his shoulder.

Thick strands twisting together in natural perfection, Yuffie watched, albeit jealously, as the long hair managed to slide down his chest without actually falling out of its 'place'. Damn the man and his perfect hair...She muttered silently. Legs crossed (in the manly way of course), incased in the thick black not quite jean, not quite dress pants he always wore. They were tucked into his own black boots, shorter heeled than her own, buckled up the side with tiny brass hooks. His sweater, made of black dyed knitted cotton, clung to his chest and arms with a death grip, the cuffs turned over to expose his large, pale skinned hands and wrists. Peering blandly up at her with eyes such a unique shade of brown they almost appeared red, Yuffie felt the urge to either take a step forward, or back, she wasn't sure which. Following his well shaped nose and cheeks down to his mouth, she watched the lips form words, speaking quietly in that low, deep voice that many women wished to whisper sweet-nothings in their ears in the darkness. "I am enjoying a cup of coffee."

"You? Taking a break from work?" She laughed a bit, moving to retrieve her own mug from the cupboard. "That's a new one, Vincent." He arched an eyebrow, turning his head to look at her, more of his long, silky hair swishing behind him, trailing down towards his mid-back.

"Hnn..I suppose." he merely replied, taking another drink, watching her struggle to reach the top shelf.

"Damn that Reno!" She hissed, jumping in vain to try and reach the mug marked "Yuffie's, Don't Touch Or You Die!" in black permanent ink. "I hate it when he does this to me!" Hearing the sound of rustling paper, feeling a sudden presence, Yuffie turned to almost smack into the chest of Vincent Valentine as he moved near her. Backing against the cool wood of the countertop, Yuffie moved out of reach, watching as the taller figure merely lifted a hand and plucked the mug from its lofty perch. Watching with a bit of an embarrassed flush to her cheeks, Yuffie stammered a thank you to her subordinate as she found him holding the white porcelain towards her face. "Thanks Vince."

"You should not pique his temper so often, Yuffie." He merely supplied, taking his seat once more, back to her.

"Pfft." She replied, turning to pull the pot from the instant coffee maker. Pouring the steaming broth into her mug, she filled it halfway before tasting it, adding a bit more afterwards before placing the coffee pot back on its heated pad. "He's such a pervert, he deserves my freaking piquing. Heh, yesterday, he tried grabbing Tifa's butt, she gave him a taste of her Dolphin Blow...minus the dolphin. 'Sides, I wont even begin to tell you all the things he's whispered in my ear at a CRIME SCENE! And, all those stupid 'dinner date' invitations, ugh...especially the Barber Shop Choir...Gyah! I don't even wanna THINK about it!" Vincent merely grunted in reply, no more than the woman had expected. Pouring some creamer and sugar into the cup, Yuffie stirred it with one of those annoying red straws before joining him at the other side of the small table, putting her feat upon the heavy wooden chair next to her. Pulling the buttons on her coat apart, opening it, her shirt, a plain serviceable gray sweater, was exposed, and with a sigh, Yuffie took a long draught of her coffee, used to the scalding hot drink.

"So..." she said after a few minutes of silence. After another low grunt from the man to show he was listening, Yuffie tried to make a bit of small talk between them. They were partners after all, responsible for actually solving the ShinRa Mako Abuse incident of a few years back. Hell, even so, they rarely had spoken, both preferring to do things in their own ways, consulting for minor details and such. "Um..Vincent, how's life been treating ya?" she asked, cringing afterwards at the stupidity of the question. Why did she have to ask something so pointless? Inwardly, she sighed, feeling a bit of an idiot.

"...It has been...alright." He replied simply, turning a page of the paper, disinterested in this conversation already. Sighing in defeat, Yuffie turned to look through one of the windows in the kitchen, watching the steady beat of the rain against the window. The pelting of the tiny droplets as the sky poured its contents upon the already soaked earth. There would probably be some flooding. Such is spring. Spring...memories flowed through her mind, and with a slightly spaced expression, Yuffie turned a little, just so the left side of her face was visible.

"In Wutai...when I was younger..." Yuffie suddenly started, eyes still diverted. Her voice was flat, bored, as if she didn't really know that she was saying it aloud. Half paying attention, Vincent merely glanced away from the paper to watch the Kisaragi girl. He had heard she was Wutain, never really asking anything about her, so it came as a bit of a surprise when he heard what she added onto the previous statement.

"My father, Godo," Godo as in Lord Godo Kisaragi, ruler of Wutai? He had merely thought her a relative of sorts upon hearing her name. Ah well, she was continuing anyways. "He told me that when it rained, epically after a hard won or lost battle in which many died, that the drops of rain were the cries and souls of those who had already ascended to the Lifestream. They cleansed the battlefield and carried with them those who had died, bringing them 'home'. To their new home. Away from their families and those who loved them." Her eyes glinted with unshed tears. "Mixed with our own tears they brought my mother from our home to the Land of Eternal Peace..."

"..." He studied her face a little closer, eyes peering through the shards of the usual masking that adorned her face. From what he could see, nothing more than overwhelming sorrow hidden beneath her eyes. Suddenly, when noting that he was glancing her way, Yuffie immediately masked herself once more, blinking a few times and clearing her throat. Downing the rest of her cooling coffee, she stood, re-buttoning her coat before walking towards the sink, placing the porcelain within the cool metal basin. "Sorry about that." She said, chuckling humorlessly. "I tend to talk too much, even when daydreaming. I guess," She said at the door, "That's why I'm always so horrible to you all. If I stop to think, I get really sad. Heh.."

"Yuffie" he said, standing slowly, and she turned to look back at him. He walked the distance to her, not bothering to move his glass to the sink. She felt a warm hand upon her shoulder as he touched it, and suddenly, the slight pressure of the warm appendage as he guided her from the room. Following him silently, something she normally would not do, Vincent led her up the staircase, towards the room he had been working in earlier. It was rather dreary, the dark green and gray striped paint job that adorned the walls lacking its luster, chipping in several places, needing a rather severe scrape and repaint. A small window allowed a rather slight amount of light trough its frosted glass, the heavy green curtains pulled aside to allow it.

In a corner sat the roll top desk Vincent had been working on earlier, papers scattered, books strewn over its polished surface. In the back of her mind, Yuffie silently mused, funny, I'd thought that he'd be a neat freak of sorts. He led her towards the chair, and she sat, folding her hands over each other. "What what are we doing up here Vincent?" She said after a few minutes, numbly realizing that he had been straightening the desk.

"Talking."

"Couldn't we have talked downstairs?"

"You were distracted by the rain."

"Yeah...I was...is that something bad?"

"What?"

"Tell me what happened."

"WHAT? Why!"

"...I wish to know."

"And that's the only reason why?"

"Come on."

"You are very depressed."

"...No I'm not! Hahaha!" Yuffie laughed fakely, standing atop the chair. Noting his serious expression, the stern set of his face, she sat down, sighing softly. "Yeah, so what if I am? It's not a big deal."

"Why do you hide it?"

"Because...Well, I dunno. I just do. It's easier to grin and bear it than to walk around with a cloud atop my head likeer...like a depressed person."

"...You are making reference to me, are you not?"

"Er...no, heh, why would you think that?"

"Would you quit staring at me like that!"

"Um..."

"...It would be easier if you told me."

"Only if you trade secrets with me, Vincent Valentine."

"...Fine."

"Wha? You weren't supposed to say that! You're supposed to say something along the lines of 'I cannot tell you my past.' and stuff! You know, anti-heroishly!"

" 'Anti-heroishly'?"

"I'm not good with words."

"...Yuffie, why do you hate the rain? You said before that the rain was the cries and souls of the dead carrying away those who have ascended beyond this world, and you mentioned your mother. What happened to her?" Before answering, inwardly Yuffie smiled. He normally never carried on a conversation, and she had never heard him talk this much, ever. Feeling the sinking depression well within, she turned her head, frowning deeply.

"Vincent...I...I have never, ever told anyone this about me, and I want you to keep it a secret, alright? I don't even feel right telling you...but you insisted, and for some reason, I am going to tell you. Tell ANYONE, about this, EVER, and I'll have your head, okay?" With a grim nod as her only reply, Yuffie stood, walking towards the frosted glass window. Placing her fingers upon the glass, she shivered as the cold shot through her hands and up her arms. Quietly, in an almost whisper, Yuffie began.

"When I was little, my father, Godo Kisaragi, was not well favored with my people. He is still not, but that's not the point. It was just after the end of the Wutain War against the ShinRa army. We, the people, had fallen into disarray, almost anarchy. At that time, there was little food to spare, so naturally, weak with hunger and depression, they turned their fury to their lord. I was a child, only five or so, and it was only afterwards that I understood this. They wanted revenge for the pain Godo had caused them, and so, they plotted to kill him, naturally. One day, I was playing in the fields behind Wutai, where the sakura were beginning to fill out with new leaves, the trees so tall and majestic, where the grass was thick and sweet, the air filled with the pungent scent of the flowers perfume. A spring shower, gentle rain, was coming down. At that time, I loved the rain dearly, and beneath a Sakura, I was playing with a stack of flowers and grasses.

"I was making wreaths for my mother, something to adorn her hair. Though a skilled shinobi, my mother, Masaka Kisaragi loved beautiful flowers. She had always taken me out in spring, showing me the flowers, and this year, I had been determined to make her the most beautiful wreath ever. As I was twining the last flower into the strip, about to form a circle and fasten it, villagers, carrying gardening tools and swords, attacked me, running towards me from a place in the tall grass they had hidden in. Just as one was about to hit me, my mother leapt from a tree and took the blow in her arm. I stood there, screaming, and she told me to get my father. So, I ran and ran.." Yuffie began to choke up, tears welling in her eyes.

"But when we came to get mom, all we saw was the red staining the grass. The bodies of the villagers lay scattered about, and below the sakura, dripping in blood and rain, my mother lay, dead. Her hair was spread like a halo about her face, falling in soft brown waves down her body, helping to shield the damage the swords and such had carved into her lithe frame." She sniffled, leaning forward, her forehead hitting the glass. "Whenever I see the rain coming down, I see her face, smiling and beautiful, transforming into that grotesque mask of pain she had worn beneath the tree. I can smell the blood, my heart pounds, my breath grows short" She wheezed, coughing, trying to bring more air into her body.

Suddenly, Yuffie felt two strong arms wrap about her, reaching from behind. She was pressed against his chest, Vincent's chest. Her back against his stomach, his arms about her waist, holding her comfortingly. And he always seemed so cold...Yuffie felt him pull her away from the window, and she turned, so that her front was against his, and with a sob, she buried her face in the hollow of his neck, tears dampening the thick wool. "That...is a lot for a child to deal with. It will be okay, Yuffie. II regret asking you to tell me your problem. I apologize." She shook her head, clutching his shirt in fistfuls, snuggling closer to his warmth. "I...suppose I should tell you something about me."

"You don't have to..." came the muffled, choked response.

"I owe it to you. Suddenly, he pushed her gently away, holding his left hand towards her. "You see this hand?" he asked, and she nodded slowly, trying to gather the meaning, though she knew he would most likely tell her momentarily.

"Yes...I see it."

He rolled the sleeve farther up, past his elbow, though no farther (Yuffie was pretty sure that he could not have gotten the thick wad of cloth to roll any farther anyways.). He ran his finger along the skin just above his elbow, and suddenly, pressed down. With a click, his left arm popped off. Well, more accurately, it fell off, and he deftly caught the appendage. "It is attached directly to my nerves. Anything that happens to this synthetic arm, I feel as if it were real. The only difference is that there is no blood. When I was younger, a foolish child, I played often where I should not have. My father had taken me to work with him one day, and like the idiot I was, I tried tinkering with a cutting machine when he had left me to use the restroom. Unfortunately, my arm was caught by a belt used for securing items that were to be cut, and well...

"When I got my first prosthetic arm, the technology was crude, and it was little more than metal welded to my arm, attached at the nerves, naked, cold steel. I was teased at school, tormented, for years. I had no friends, not ever." He left off. Silent with surprise at both his story and his prosthetic arm, Yuffie merely reached out, touching the skin. It had looked so real, felt so real. Moving his arm back to its socketed area, Vincent spoke as he rotated the appendage to its appropriate place. "I do not know how I many nights I dreamt of suicide from their childish cruelty."

"Vincent"

"We are both imperfect. We both...do not want to be hurt."

"I..."

"I used to think myself a monster with this hand, something inhuman. Your fears made you feel the same way, did they not?"

"Yes..."

She heard a snapping noise, and suddenly, as if it had never been detached, the arm was back upon his, and he was rolling the sleeve down, flexing the left fingers slightly. "No matter what we feel..." he took a deep breath, as if admitting this to himself was of great importance, and it was. "We are both human, and we have both kept our emotions bottled for far too long."

"Yes...we have..." She touched his hand, and suddenly looked up, a smile spreading across her face as the tension melted away, the pain leaving her body. She had told him, and it felt good. The urge to tell him everything suddenly overwhelmed her, and with a bit of a stutter, embarrassed, she asked, "Hey, Vincent, I have an idea. Can we be friends? Tell each other secrets and stuff? That way, we won't keep the pain inside…I mean, you know, I" A half smile lit his features, and Yuffie almost wet herself with glee. This was a rare thing, receiving a Vincent smile, and she felt very special.

She felt even more special when he pulled her into a hug, and with a sort of relief in his voice, said in that low beautiful tone, "...That sounds bearable."

"I can see it now, hehe." She said, smiling brightly as she moved away from him, propping open the window, the cold air and the rain blowing in. It wasn't so horrifying anymore. "Yuffie and Vincent, New Best Friends!" She gave him a thumbs up, the spray of the rain dripping down her face, no longer mixed with tears as it used to be. "They'll be so surprised! Haha, Cid will have a heart attack, the chain smoking old fart." He grinned at her, as much as a Vincent can (which still ended up being a half smile, but at least it was something), immensely beautiful.

"I doubt that, but I agree that they will be surprised."

"Surprised is an understatement, Vinnie my boy."

"..."

F-I-N

((A/N: that's it! Was it sucky? I bet you thought it sucked. (sniff) but it's okay. I guess it can't be helped. Um…sorry about that. Well, R&R if you wanna! I love reviews, but don't worry, I don't mind if you don't want to.

And...about the Avalanche Detective Agency, it was from a dream I was having back then. It was really messed up...but hey, it's all good.))