Title: Torn
Author: Enide Dear
Rating: Nc - 17 just some swearing
Pairing: Vincent/Cid
Summary: Vincent is torn, Cid is good at mending
Authors' note: Ramblings, again
Feedback: Will be adored and squeed over
Muses: All the Valenwind love I've been getting these past few days!
**
"Alright, take it off." Cid said with a tone that indicated that protests would be pointless.
Vincent's eyebrows almost touched his hairline.
"I beg your pardon?" he managed. He had a feeling that if he turned around, he'd find the entire Avalanche staring at them after Cid's comment, but Cid seemed unruffled.
"Yer cloak. And yer bandana. They're all torn to shreds, and it's fucking embarrassing. Ya look like some bum."
That was a bit too much to hear from a man with perpetual oil stains all over his clothing, but before Vincent had time to snap him off, Cid wavered a secret weapon under his nose. The needle glimmered and trailed crimson thread.
"Took me fucking hours to find the right damned shade of red, so don't even think about whining."
"I…" Vincent would never admit it, but something about the soaring energy and pure joy of life that was in Cid scared him, just a little. As if Cid's fire would not be daunted by the ice in his soul and might even end up melting it, if he came too close. He was very close now, and this unexpected gesture of care and thought took Vincent even more off guard. "Cid, I appreciate it, I do,…but I can't sow."
"Can ya build a fire?"
Vincent blinked, once more off his bearings, and not quite certain the pilot still had some grip on his sanity.
"Ummm….yes?"
"Can ya pour water into a pot?"
"Cid, I don't…."
"Yes or no, damn it!"
"…yes."
"And can ya put tea leaves in that pot?"
Finally realising what the captain was getting at, Vincent almost smiled, as a strange warmth spread through his chest.
"Yes. Yes, I can."
"Good. Then ya make me a pot of tea, and I'll stitch yer clothing up real nice fer ya." He held out a tanned arm and grinned. "Now, strip."
It was ridiculous to feel naked when he was still wearing pants, shoes and a shirt that buttoned all the way to his throat, but he did. At least his hair fell into his face, hiding it somewhat. Vincent suddenly realised that all of Avalanche was staring at him, staring at Cid, and hurried of to find firewood.
**
"Awww…that's so nice of you." Yuffie beamed her best innocent smile at him. It wasn't very convincing, and anyway Cid didn't look up from his short, neat needlework.
"Yeah." He muttered, folding torn cloth with the needle between his lips where the cigarette usually was.
"So….I got some torn clothes."
"Ain't that a shame? Now scram, yer blocking my light."
"That's not fair!" she pouted angrily. "Why only help him?"
"The man's got a fucking metal claw, kiddo! He can't sow, but yer just lazy. Now beat it, before I embroider 'kick me' on yer ass."
Sulking, Yuffie stood up to leave, just as Vincent returned, cradling a cup in one hand and a teapot in the other. Cid shone up as he smelled it.
"But he sure as Hell can make a cup of tea! Right on time, Vince!"
For the rest of the evening Avalanche was treated to the sight of Cid stitching up torn remnants with Vincent sitting very close next to him, pouring endless cups of tea.