Okay, heya folks, its me! The authoress! Lora Helen. I just wanna thank you all right off for clinging this like, as well, the summary was not good, but I'd like to think that the story is at least fairly okay.
So, yeah, this is my first step into writing final fantasy stuff, and this is a Cid Vincent story, though well, there are other vague pairing in it as well. It's based on the movie Serendipity, which I love, and could cast the FFVII team into very very easily; so, I really hope you enjoy reading this.
This fic is AU, set in England, for I am English and do not really know that much about the USA, or anywhere else, but, ya dun really need to know England to understand it, so, please, give it a go
Disclaimer – I do not own Final Fantasy in any way...
Any way, that's my babbling, oh yeah, yaoi... if you dun like it, PLEASE don't read it.. I am in no way making you. Also, minor bad language, shrugs if it offends you, dun read it.
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Serendipity.
It was December the 23rd, and the snow was falling lightly over the bustling London streets. The clock from Big Ben had just struck seven, but it was no surprise to find all the major stores still perfectly open, with two days to go till Christmas, everywhere was making the most of the last minute rush.
People were running and walking from store to store, some stopping briefly to smile at acquaintances and friends before rushing on again while some fixed their eyes on the lights that were strung across the streets. Despite the splendour of the evening, there were still some people who never lifted their eyes from the sidewalk. But surprisingly, not everyone was rushing around; some were just sitting in the warmth of the cities bars and café's, enjoying a warm drink and a talk.
The sky was dark, obscured by the think clouds that had brought this unusual snowy spell down on the world, except in a few places where the sparkling stars were able to shine through in their radiant glory, giving the night a touch of magic.
The exterior of the largest shop in the Knightsbridge area, Harrods, was lit up beautifully, with faux Christmas trees adorning the high stone walls every few feet, every one of them dressed in winking lights.
"Get out of the Bleeding way!!"
A number of people were pushed aside as a man of average height with messy blonde hair shoved his way through the ranks and into the large shop.
With a frustrated sigh, the man looked around him, down at his watch. In slight surprise he raised an eyebrow, it was later than he had thought. Lifting his head again, he looked about him taking in the Egyptian hall in which he stood.
The room was.... Well.... Gold, there was really no other word for it. There were large pillars around the room, and ancient looking decoration that gave the room its ancient Egyptian feel. It was stunning, but not really his cup of tea, so he returned his attention to the task at hand.
"Bloody hell..." the words passed his lips as little more than a mutter as he glanced about him "damn... where am I gonna find some bloody gloves in here... its crawlin... I'll be lucky not to get trampled...."
After muttering a few more choice curses he proceeded to barge his way out of the Egyptian room, and through the large archway into the next.
His attire was rather different to that of the other people in the store, maybe he wasn't one that usually followed fashion, or maybe he just liked his own individual style, who could really tell.
He wore a pair of very dark green trousers, made from a soft fabric that rustled slightly as he walked, but looked like it would feel rather furry to the touch, a little like suede, but yet, not. A white top covered his chest, clinging slightly, but not a great deal, over this he wore a large heavy duty denim jacket that was current spotted with dark blue where the snow flakes had melted and soaked it, but never the less it looked warm, the sleeves of which were, rumpled, as if they were usually rolled up and adorned with various aviation patches, showing that this man was a keen flyer, possibly a pilot either for leisure or as a career.
Wrapped tightly about his neck was a worn looking white scarf, grubby around the very edges showing a great deal of use, but nothing that a spin in a washing machine wouldn't fix. Then finally there was his questionable head wear, a pair of majorly scratched up pilots goggles, another hint at his enjoyment regarding aviation, and possibly at his rather nonexistent fashion sense.
With a final shove he managed to make his way properly into the second room. It was decorated in far more sedate colours than the room he had just left, none of the gaudy golds and silvers, but yet, it was just as crowded.
"Gloves... Blasted damned gloves... why did she want gloves..." grey-blue eyes roved across the room, taking in the shelves and stands "Couldn't that damned woman have wanted a scarf... tights even... but no, gloves, the one..." he cursed again "the one bloody item that every one in the whole of bloody London seems to want."
A grin broke across his face as his eyes fell on a half exposed counter. There, standing just on the very edge of it was a large shining silver rack, and hanging from the rack were four, maybe five different coloured pairs of gloves, fine leather as well from what he could tell. He began to move across the room as fast as he could. He HAD to get the woman a pair of gloves.
"Now..." he grumbled to himself, dodging past a pair of elderly women, and narrowly avoiding being clobbered by a handbag "what colour did the damn woman want.... Damnit... I don't re- BLACK! She want- Ouch!!" An elderly man had managed to complete the task the women had failed to do, and had caught him in the side of the head with his walking stick, momentarily disrupting both his motion toward the glove rack, and his thought process.
Cursing violently, he pressed a hand to his throbbing temple, and struggled on, getting nearer and nearer to his target, well, at least he hoped he was, the mad throng of people was rather obscuring.... Well.... Everything....
After he had to practically climb over a mother pushing a three seat wide buggy, the rack of gloves finally came back into view, and his eyes went wide. To his delight he saw that black gloves were indeed for sale here, but to his horror he realised that there was one, only ONE pair of black gloves left.... Brown, sure maybe five or six pairs, navy and faun as well, heck, there were even pairs of dark green gloves, but there was only one pair of black gloves and at least five people stood between him and his prize.
Notching up the speed a little more, he almost dived toward the rack of gloves, his fingers closing round one of the black leather items, just as a thin pale hand closed around the other, and blue-grey eyes met.... Red!
"Oh.... I.... Uhmm..." the red eyes gazing slightly down into his seemed to be burning into his face, and he could feel his face beginning to colour slightly "We.... Seem to have a problem here...."
With some difficulty, he dragged his eyes away from the doe like red one's in front of him, and took in the rest of the face. The skin was pale, as light as alabaster, and looked to be as smooth as polished ivory. The face itself was fairly long, yet elegantly shaped with high arching cheekbones, and a fine tapered nose set in the exact centre. He momentarily wondered what it was about the face that made it seem so dramatic, then he realised. Long waves of raven black hair fell down well past thin shoulders, showing up vibrantly against the dark red coat that the man wore, and against the band of red fabric that was twined around his head. The locks perfectly framed the mans face, and hung as if they had been carefully set that way, but with the gusts that were whipping the coats of passers by in the streets that was an impossibility. The raven colouring of the hair was mimicked exactly in the man's fine eyebrows and thick long eyelashes, giving the brow a great deal of definition, and the eyes even more depth than should have been possible.
"Yes... it seems we do..."
The voice caught him almost totally off guard, it was very deep, yet equally soft and the only way he could think of describing it was silk.... The softest most delicate silk.
"What should we do?"
"I don't know...."
The very corners of the mans red eyes were lifted slightly, in what could only be called a smile, well, if one was looking very closely that, for, to the casual observer, nothing about the pale mans face would have changed.
"Maybe.... We should think this through...."
"Indeed...."
"Well.... Why do you need this, uhmm... pair of black gloves then huh?"
The man shook his head a little "I like them...."
"Now See.... Mine are for my girlfriend." A nod to emphasise the point.
"Oh.... Your..... Girlfriend, then.... You had best have them...." The pale man released the glove he had been holding, letting it fall back to rest against its companion.
"Shit no.... I'm sure you saw them first, the woman can make do!" he let go of his glove as well."
The other man shook his head, his raven hair shifting very slightly, caressing his cheeks "I insist."
"Not A chance! I in-"
He was cut off as a middle-aged man leant over and removed the now un-held pair of black gloves from the rack. "Oh Lovely! The last pair! My Lula will love them!"
Both men stared for a second or so, then they moved, each taking hold of a glove once more, and stating, in differing tones of voice, and levels of noise "They're mine!"
The holder of the gloves gave them both a look "Oh? Is that so? Well see.... They're for my wife... why do you need them?"
"They're.... for my sister..."
"They're for my aunt!"
A look was exchanged
"I mean... they are.... Uhmm... for his Aunt..."
"For his Sister!!! Yeah!! His Sister!"
The holder of the gloves looked unconvinced, and showed it with a snort "So, let me get this right. They are for your sister..." a glance at the pale black haired man "AND for your aunt..." a glance at the other.
"Uhmmmm......" floundering was definitely not his favourite thing in the world to be doing, but he couldn't think of any way to get those gloves back. Nervously he dragged a hand through his still mussy blonde hair.
"They're for both of them..."
All eyes flicked to the dark haired man, whose cheeks coloured very slightly
"Oh really?" the gloves were shifted to the mans other hand.
"Yes.... You see... my sister, and..."
"My aunt... yeah!"
"Yes... they... are in love...." The mans red eyes flicked briefly to the blonde, who nodded a great deal.
"Yeah, ya see, I know he dun sound like he's from around here, and that's cuz he's bloody well not, but, ah damn, ya see, my aunt, she loves his sister real bad, and well, though I've bloody well never met this broody looking guy before...."
Red eyes hardened briefly, and the blonde shrugged
"Well, we decided to, damn well meet up! And.... Get them..... Gloves...."
Grey-blue eyes flicked back to the taller man in the red coat, who, after a moments thought continued.
"Yes.... Gloves.... that way.... Uhmm... one of them can... keep one..."
The blonde grinned, cottoning on.
"While the other has the other!" a wide grin flashed across a lightly whiskered face "And they'll always have a part of each other... well... a half of a set of gloves!"
By this point, the man who had planned to take the gloves home to his wife was so tickled that he relented, handing the gloves to the raven haired man, he turned away chortling. "You guys can have you're gloves! After that story you deserve it..."
The two looked at each other, each smiling in their own way, one broadly, the other so subtly it was almost unnoticeable.
"Heh..." The blonde grinned even more widely, "You can keep the dratted gloves, and you came up with that damn story."
The raven-haired man nodded graciously "thank you very much.... But.... Do let me.... Ummm.... Help you find something for your girlfriend...."
The blonde nodded "Sure, sounds good.... Want to do something after? I don't damn well got to go back to the woman yet!"
The red eyes smiled slightly again "If you wish.... I know a lovely little café.... Its called.... Serendipity...."
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Well, that was the first part, I hopes you like it!
Please let me know if ya want to, whether you want more, and whether you think I am going wrong anywhere... like I said, its AU, and I haven't fixed the ages or anything yet, but well, I need to get a feel for the characters.
Hope to hear back from ya!
Lora
Ps – If ya wanna chat, feel free to add me to yahoo or Msn messenger
So, yeah, this is my first step into writing final fantasy stuff, and this is a Cid Vincent story, though well, there are other vague pairing in it as well. It's based on the movie Serendipity, which I love, and could cast the FFVII team into very very easily; so, I really hope you enjoy reading this.
This fic is AU, set in England, for I am English and do not really know that much about the USA, or anywhere else, but, ya dun really need to know England to understand it, so, please, give it a go
Disclaimer – I do not own Final Fantasy in any way...
Any way, that's my babbling, oh yeah, yaoi... if you dun like it, PLEASE don't read it.. I am in no way making you. Also, minor bad language, shrugs if it offends you, dun read it.
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Serendipity.
It was December the 23rd, and the snow was falling lightly over the bustling London streets. The clock from Big Ben had just struck seven, but it was no surprise to find all the major stores still perfectly open, with two days to go till Christmas, everywhere was making the most of the last minute rush.
People were running and walking from store to store, some stopping briefly to smile at acquaintances and friends before rushing on again while some fixed their eyes on the lights that were strung across the streets. Despite the splendour of the evening, there were still some people who never lifted their eyes from the sidewalk. But surprisingly, not everyone was rushing around; some were just sitting in the warmth of the cities bars and café's, enjoying a warm drink and a talk.
The sky was dark, obscured by the think clouds that had brought this unusual snowy spell down on the world, except in a few places where the sparkling stars were able to shine through in their radiant glory, giving the night a touch of magic.
The exterior of the largest shop in the Knightsbridge area, Harrods, was lit up beautifully, with faux Christmas trees adorning the high stone walls every few feet, every one of them dressed in winking lights.
"Get out of the Bleeding way!!"
A number of people were pushed aside as a man of average height with messy blonde hair shoved his way through the ranks and into the large shop.
With a frustrated sigh, the man looked around him, down at his watch. In slight surprise he raised an eyebrow, it was later than he had thought. Lifting his head again, he looked about him taking in the Egyptian hall in which he stood.
The room was.... Well.... Gold, there was really no other word for it. There were large pillars around the room, and ancient looking decoration that gave the room its ancient Egyptian feel. It was stunning, but not really his cup of tea, so he returned his attention to the task at hand.
"Bloody hell..." the words passed his lips as little more than a mutter as he glanced about him "damn... where am I gonna find some bloody gloves in here... its crawlin... I'll be lucky not to get trampled...."
After muttering a few more choice curses he proceeded to barge his way out of the Egyptian room, and through the large archway into the next.
His attire was rather different to that of the other people in the store, maybe he wasn't one that usually followed fashion, or maybe he just liked his own individual style, who could really tell.
He wore a pair of very dark green trousers, made from a soft fabric that rustled slightly as he walked, but looked like it would feel rather furry to the touch, a little like suede, but yet, not. A white top covered his chest, clinging slightly, but not a great deal, over this he wore a large heavy duty denim jacket that was current spotted with dark blue where the snow flakes had melted and soaked it, but never the less it looked warm, the sleeves of which were, rumpled, as if they were usually rolled up and adorned with various aviation patches, showing that this man was a keen flyer, possibly a pilot either for leisure or as a career.
Wrapped tightly about his neck was a worn looking white scarf, grubby around the very edges showing a great deal of use, but nothing that a spin in a washing machine wouldn't fix. Then finally there was his questionable head wear, a pair of majorly scratched up pilots goggles, another hint at his enjoyment regarding aviation, and possibly at his rather nonexistent fashion sense.
With a final shove he managed to make his way properly into the second room. It was decorated in far more sedate colours than the room he had just left, none of the gaudy golds and silvers, but yet, it was just as crowded.
"Gloves... Blasted damned gloves... why did she want gloves..." grey-blue eyes roved across the room, taking in the shelves and stands "Couldn't that damned woman have wanted a scarf... tights even... but no, gloves, the one..." he cursed again "the one bloody item that every one in the whole of bloody London seems to want."
A grin broke across his face as his eyes fell on a half exposed counter. There, standing just on the very edge of it was a large shining silver rack, and hanging from the rack were four, maybe five different coloured pairs of gloves, fine leather as well from what he could tell. He began to move across the room as fast as he could. He HAD to get the woman a pair of gloves.
"Now..." he grumbled to himself, dodging past a pair of elderly women, and narrowly avoiding being clobbered by a handbag "what colour did the damn woman want.... Damnit... I don't re- BLACK! She want- Ouch!!" An elderly man had managed to complete the task the women had failed to do, and had caught him in the side of the head with his walking stick, momentarily disrupting both his motion toward the glove rack, and his thought process.
Cursing violently, he pressed a hand to his throbbing temple, and struggled on, getting nearer and nearer to his target, well, at least he hoped he was, the mad throng of people was rather obscuring.... Well.... Everything....
After he had to practically climb over a mother pushing a three seat wide buggy, the rack of gloves finally came back into view, and his eyes went wide. To his delight he saw that black gloves were indeed for sale here, but to his horror he realised that there was one, only ONE pair of black gloves left.... Brown, sure maybe five or six pairs, navy and faun as well, heck, there were even pairs of dark green gloves, but there was only one pair of black gloves and at least five people stood between him and his prize.
Notching up the speed a little more, he almost dived toward the rack of gloves, his fingers closing round one of the black leather items, just as a thin pale hand closed around the other, and blue-grey eyes met.... Red!
"Oh.... I.... Uhmm..." the red eyes gazing slightly down into his seemed to be burning into his face, and he could feel his face beginning to colour slightly "We.... Seem to have a problem here...."
With some difficulty, he dragged his eyes away from the doe like red one's in front of him, and took in the rest of the face. The skin was pale, as light as alabaster, and looked to be as smooth as polished ivory. The face itself was fairly long, yet elegantly shaped with high arching cheekbones, and a fine tapered nose set in the exact centre. He momentarily wondered what it was about the face that made it seem so dramatic, then he realised. Long waves of raven black hair fell down well past thin shoulders, showing up vibrantly against the dark red coat that the man wore, and against the band of red fabric that was twined around his head. The locks perfectly framed the mans face, and hung as if they had been carefully set that way, but with the gusts that were whipping the coats of passers by in the streets that was an impossibility. The raven colouring of the hair was mimicked exactly in the man's fine eyebrows and thick long eyelashes, giving the brow a great deal of definition, and the eyes even more depth than should have been possible.
"Yes... it seems we do..."
The voice caught him almost totally off guard, it was very deep, yet equally soft and the only way he could think of describing it was silk.... The softest most delicate silk.
"What should we do?"
"I don't know...."
The very corners of the mans red eyes were lifted slightly, in what could only be called a smile, well, if one was looking very closely that, for, to the casual observer, nothing about the pale mans face would have changed.
"Maybe.... We should think this through...."
"Indeed...."
"Well.... Why do you need this, uhmm... pair of black gloves then huh?"
The man shook his head a little "I like them...."
"Now See.... Mine are for my girlfriend." A nod to emphasise the point.
"Oh.... Your..... Girlfriend, then.... You had best have them...." The pale man released the glove he had been holding, letting it fall back to rest against its companion.
"Shit no.... I'm sure you saw them first, the woman can make do!" he let go of his glove as well."
The other man shook his head, his raven hair shifting very slightly, caressing his cheeks "I insist."
"Not A chance! I in-"
He was cut off as a middle-aged man leant over and removed the now un-held pair of black gloves from the rack. "Oh Lovely! The last pair! My Lula will love them!"
Both men stared for a second or so, then they moved, each taking hold of a glove once more, and stating, in differing tones of voice, and levels of noise "They're mine!"
The holder of the gloves gave them both a look "Oh? Is that so? Well see.... They're for my wife... why do you need them?"
"They're.... for my sister..."
"They're for my aunt!"
A look was exchanged
"I mean... they are.... Uhmm... for his Aunt..."
"For his Sister!!! Yeah!! His Sister!"
The holder of the gloves looked unconvinced, and showed it with a snort "So, let me get this right. They are for your sister..." a glance at the pale black haired man "AND for your aunt..." a glance at the other.
"Uhmmmm......" floundering was definitely not his favourite thing in the world to be doing, but he couldn't think of any way to get those gloves back. Nervously he dragged a hand through his still mussy blonde hair.
"They're for both of them..."
All eyes flicked to the dark haired man, whose cheeks coloured very slightly
"Oh really?" the gloves were shifted to the mans other hand.
"Yes.... You see... my sister, and..."
"My aunt... yeah!"
"Yes... they... are in love...." The mans red eyes flicked briefly to the blonde, who nodded a great deal.
"Yeah, ya see, I know he dun sound like he's from around here, and that's cuz he's bloody well not, but, ah damn, ya see, my aunt, she loves his sister real bad, and well, though I've bloody well never met this broody looking guy before...."
Red eyes hardened briefly, and the blonde shrugged
"Well, we decided to, damn well meet up! And.... Get them..... Gloves...."
Grey-blue eyes flicked back to the taller man in the red coat, who, after a moments thought continued.
"Yes.... Gloves.... that way.... Uhmm... one of them can... keep one..."
The blonde grinned, cottoning on.
"While the other has the other!" a wide grin flashed across a lightly whiskered face "And they'll always have a part of each other... well... a half of a set of gloves!"
By this point, the man who had planned to take the gloves home to his wife was so tickled that he relented, handing the gloves to the raven haired man, he turned away chortling. "You guys can have you're gloves! After that story you deserve it..."
The two looked at each other, each smiling in their own way, one broadly, the other so subtly it was almost unnoticeable.
"Heh..." The blonde grinned even more widely, "You can keep the dratted gloves, and you came up with that damn story."
The raven-haired man nodded graciously "thank you very much.... But.... Do let me.... Ummm.... Help you find something for your girlfriend...."
The blonde nodded "Sure, sounds good.... Want to do something after? I don't damn well got to go back to the woman yet!"
The red eyes smiled slightly again "If you wish.... I know a lovely little café.... Its called.... Serendipity...."
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Well, that was the first part, I hopes you like it!
Please let me know if ya want to, whether you want more, and whether you think I am going wrong anywhere... like I said, its AU, and I haven't fixed the ages or anything yet, but well, I need to get a feel for the characters.
Hope to hear back from ya!
Lora
Ps – If ya wanna chat, feel free to add me to yahoo or Msn messenger