I love writing for these two. I really do.

I.

Cid dragged himself out of bed and came down the steps. The hard wood floor was cold under his bare feet, but he didn't bother putting on a pair of socks. Rubbing morning chill from the tip of his nose, he inhaled the crisp scent of hot cooking oil coming from a pan in the kitchen. Shera was up. He could hear the scrape of a wooden spoon on the inside of a pancake batter filled mixing bowl, and her rich singing voice in sync with the crackly tempo of the radio.

He was going to complain about it not being warm enough in the house last night, and how numb it was making his fingers this morning, but he didn't bother with that either. He leaned over the stair rail and watched Shera before she had a chance to notice him.

She always worked a thick mix with this alluring, flexible little quake in her hips. Cid rarely caught her performances. He didn't want to ruin the moment.

II.

Cid knew damn well that he had felt his wife sit up in bed and turn on a lamp. And he knew damn well that she knew he was pretending to be asleep.

Shera's gentle touch was on his shoulder; lightly tapping him awake. The Captain cracked open one of his eyes, squinted through the bright light in the room, looked from his wife's bloated stomach, and then to her face. Goddammit.

"Yer hungry…ain't you?"

"I really want some cold pineapple…" Shera answered him in a sugary sweet voice, and rubbed her stomach for added effect, because she knew this was the fifth time in a week that she had woken him up in the middle of the night to satisfy an irritating craving.

"Er…alright. Jus, give me a sec." Cid gathered a few fistfuls of motivation and groped around his drawer top for a shirt to yank on. Last week, Shera had woken up and asked him for some grape looking shit called leechie. He didn't even fucking know what that was until last week. Where the hell was he supposed to find a pineapple?!

III.

There came an evening where Shera could sense that the Captain was avoiding her. The sensation stung in her stomach and in her fingers while she scrubbed dinner bowls clean. She gazed down at the suds; some sort of thing to externally focus on while her mind was trying to calculate what she might have done wrong.

"M' gonna go'n sit on the roof." Was all he mumbled after eating. Shera offered, who could be considered her boyfriend, a very timid smile. At least he acknowledged it before stepping outside.

As the evening grew later, anxiety began to burn a hole in her heart. She paced; bare legs, hair let down from a pony tail, and somewhat cold in nothing but an oversized t-shirt after showering. Mustering her courage, Shera teetered out onto worn down shingles. She approached Cid with caution and sat. She knew he probably wanted to be alone, but she was worried.

IV.

The moon was full and bright in the stippled sky above before Cid opened his mouth. He began to say something, but had to clear his throat before continuing. It confused Shera at first. Cid sounded as if he had the familiar sting of wet emotion in his sinuses.

"Cid?" Shera scooted a little closer. The way he was sitting, it was hard to see his face. The closer she got, the more she realized that he was trying to hide. "Are you okay…?"

"Yeah, I…" Cid began to lie, but decided against it. "Shera, I can, ah, talk to ya, right?" His question was a wary one.

"Of course, Cid. You can always talk to me." She tilted her head; still not able to read his expression.

He took a deep breath, a rarity because it alluded to nervousness and complete honesty, and slowly exhaled. "I ah, wanted to tell you that I was sorry."

"Cid," Shera placed her hand on his thigh "you already have."

"I know, but really, really mean it. Shera, I…I've been thinkin' about how long I've kept you here like a fuckin' prisoner. How much bullshit I've talked. I'm the guilty son of a bitch that stomped n' spat on your spirit." He had just about torn out his hair in shame and embarrassment, thinking how he could have treated someone so wrong for so long? Cid opened his hand like he wasn't sure she would take it. When she placed her palm over his, he squeezed, and Shera could feel him shaking. "Shera, have I ever made you cry?"

The question almost totally caught her off guard. She blinked those bright, doe like eyes and pressed her full lips into a tight line because she didn't know how to properly answer him. If she outright told him the truth it would break both of their hearts.

Cid expelled another slow breath through his nostrils. Shera could hear the moisture again. The moon light exposed the curve of his cheek, and she noticed the already drying trail of glistening salt water there. Shera caught the sting the Captain had in his throat like a deep yawn, and laid herself against his side. He didn't want to turn his head. He was a fucking coward for not being able to look his very best friend in her eyes.

A very long silence passed. Even the moon cicadas had nothing to say.

"Cid, sometimes," Shera pressed her forehead to his shoulder "when people lose a sense of control in their lives, they look for it in other things. Some people…harm themselves because they can control how much pain they feel. And some people harm others, because they can control how other people behave. Trust me, I know. You aren't the worst person I've openly taken care of." She dryly laughed.

Cid didn't reply (because he wasn't fully sure what she meant by all of that), but she knew he was listening.

"I know that rocket meant so much to you. You put your heart and soul into it. It was your dream, so after the launch failed, I could see why you might have felt lost." Shera shook her head and tried to regain her train of thought. She stared at Cid until she was able to beckon his eyes into hers. "I didn't have to stay. Cid, I need you to understand that it was my choice. If you needed me, I wanted to be here."

"Shera, but I—"

"I know, Captain. You said things to me that you shouldn't have. But I told you you're forgiven. That's my choice, too."

"But why?!" If I was dealing with himself at the time, he would have called the goddamn cops.

"Why? Don't you know I love you?"

"Oh..."Cid shut his mouth.

"Come here?"

He felt like a damn two year old, but Shera allowed him to sob into her chest, and it felt like regret the size of the planet had stopped crushing his back.

V.

Cid had never stayed in a house this nice before, not even while working with ShinRa. The really nice part about being here, of course, was that he didn't have to pay any gil out of his own pocket. Apparently, someone who had yet to reveal themselves, found it in their heart to cover the cost of their second wedding honeymoon. Cid was pretty sure it was Cloud, and that wasn't just because the villa they were staying in was in his name… Pretty boy wasn't using this place anyway.

Tossing the villa key onto the bed along with the jacket tied around his waist, Cid kicked off his boots at the side nearest to the cabinet holding a large TV. "Shera?! You here?" Cid found that the master bathroom door was cracked open. He poked his head through to the sight of Shera sitting in a dual sided tub.

"Mm, right here." She was neck deep in a bubble bath; cheeks and shoulders flushed from luxuriously hot water.

VI.

It only took five minutes to convince Cid to undress and hop in the other side (with bubbles too because why the hell not?). Fancy ass tub didn't take longer than a second to fill, and shit, there was a fridge full of cold liquor under one of the cabinets. Costa Del Sol was heaven. If he wasn't so deeply attached to Rocket Town, Cid would have already planned to move.

Drinking, they cracked inside jokes for the next half hour that almost made Shera snort champagne from her nose. Half a bottle whiskey and Cid playfully biting, and nibbling on his wife's ankles had sloshed water all over the tilted floor. He was fucking with her of course, just because the bright grin on her face made him feel loved.

Cid took a firm hold of her heel, dragged her leg over the bridge between them, and sucked on her smallest toe because he knew Shera loved that kind of freaky shit. She squealed like he was sucking on something else.

VII.

"There aren't as many stars here." The warm breeze that rustled the villa curtains served to gently air dry her hair. Shera had placed her comb down on one of the cushions of the patio set outside. She leaned over the balcony and fixed the fluffy, white robe she was wearing over her shoulders.

"Same stars," Cid grunted "just can't see em. S'not like Rocket, where all the lights are out by nine." He slurred. They both had had enough to drink, and he was sure that they both had firmer stomachs from how hard they'd been laughing earlier. "Del Sol's probably got some light pollution. Town's a tourist spot. I doubt it ever goes to sleep."

"That's a little disappointing." It made her miss home a bit.

"Hey, what'er we doin' tomorrow?" Cid changed the subject, and stood from the chair he had his feet kicked up in. He kneeled down behind Shera. His hands were on her hips; lips to her shoulder. God, he felt like a young buck, here in paradise rendezvousing with the woman of his dreams. Maybe he was dreaming.

"Laying like two lazy pieces of drift wood on the beach. How's that sound?"

"Works for me." He kissed her neck and Shera laughed even though it pained her, because his facial hair was already growing back from shaving it for their second wedding, and the fuzz tickled.

"What are we doing tonight, Captain?" She said his title in a way that made him shiver.

"How's about I rock you to sleep?"

VIII.

It was time to operate under a different standard. Cid's speech had been changing in connotation every day. Somehow the term dumb-ass had transitioned into the word goofy (he was aiming for charming and not incompetent). Stupid was switched out with not-awake-yet. He stopped telling her to shut up. Cid didn't touch the word bitch with a fifty foot pole.

He did call her sneaky though…because she was.

IX.

If the Captain could ever do it without noticing, he somewhat took a secret pleasure (among other things) in watching Shera eat her favorite snacks. It surprised him sometimes; how much attention he willingly paid attention to his housemate doing pretty mundane things.

Like her work, she had a methodical way of savoring things she enjoyed. Shera liked gooey crunchy sweets. Dripping cherries (that fit perfectly between her lips. Cid was sure she could tie knots in stems with her tongue). Vanilla wafers (she unsandwiched and ate one layer at a time). Cinnamon rolls (she was the kinda chick to uncoil and pick the roll apart until she got to the center). Gummy bears (Shera gnawed the heads off first). And of course, she took her tea with an unholy serving of honey.

If he consumed half has much sugar as she did, he'd have to see his doctor more often.

X.

Why did she have to pick and choose what she wanted to take her time with?! Shera always took an eternity on the things Cid needed in a microwave minute.

"Come onnnn!"

"Do you really want to rush this?" She literally had him by the groin.