Because I don't think Shelke loves Vincent.

"Hey kid!"

"Hello Cid Highwind."

"Just call me 'Cid', got it? Or I'll have to spear you."

"I'm sorry…?"

"Naw, don't be. He gets like dis when he's had too much to drink, ya know? Take a seat little lady." He patted the spot next to him on the bar. They were sitting on the stools, but Tifa was busy with other customers at the moment so no one was behind the table.

"Thank you Barret Wallace."

"You can just call me 'Barret'. Y'know, people don't like being called their full names."

"I'm sorry Mr. Wallace."

"Now ya make me sound old! Just 'Barret', yeah?"

"Alright."

Taking the seat he offered, I looked around the bar. It seemed that the group had found it right to come on Sunday. Everyone was here, from the wisest member, Nanaki, to the youngest member, Yuffie. Even Vincent was here, a feat that surprised a lot of them; I included.

"So what brings ya here? You gunna have a drink?"

"No, just enjoying the scenery."

"Oh, someone to yo likin'?" He turned his whole body to face mine, raising an eyebrow. I noticed that the pilot beside him found an interest in this conversation, because he stopped twirling in his seat and his attention, or all that he could hold in this drunken state, was focused on us.

The man was huge, but it never bothered me. I didn't really mind looking up at him. Azul was much bigger anyways.

"You could say I've taken a fancy to someone…"

"Ugh, it ain't the goddamn vampire, is it?" scoffed Cid, drinking from his empty cup, and only receiving ice. It didn't stop him however; he just chewed the ice as if it was candy.

"No."

I wonder why everyone thought I liked him. I might be in his company longer than most, and I might have the woman he loves in my head, but that doesn't mean I like him.

Sometimes I do think so, though. Lucrecia's memories… Sometimes they affect me.

I feel like I'm in love with him. But it's not me, and it scares me, and this only makes me want to leave him be, for my own benefit.

There is someone who I do enjoy the presence of, however. Someone who makes me look up every time I hear their voice, or just stare at them, and smile when they look happy, content with just being able to watch and not care if they ever love me back…

Or talk to me. But this is a different matter all together. That person does talk to me, but…

"Shi-it, really?" He looked around Barret's wide structure and looked at me as if in disbelief. I gave him as much of a quizzical look as I could muster.

It was difficult, to say the least.

"Yes. Why is this so hard to believe?" I asked, looking at the pilot, but getting my response from the bigger man.

"Well, it was kinda… We just thought, y'know? 'Cause of the woman in yo head an' all." He looked at me as if waiting for a response. 'Would it offend her or not'? was written on his face, and in his eyes.

"I suppose that is a reasonable deduction," I stated, and the man sighed, as if letting out a breath he had been holding. The pilot had resumed twirling in his seat.

"Who is it den? The guy ya like," Barret asked, turning towards the bar, but keeping his attention to me. Tifa had come back to refill his cup, smiling at him, but giving a glare at the other man, who had asked for more alcohol, even when Tifa had told him he had had enough just a few minutes a go.

I looked up at him, and smiled. It was a bit odd to do so, seeing it's very voluntary on my part to do it. It usually takes a while for my mind to process the message I'm sending. It's harder than raising my arm up. My face is so used to showing no emotion that, Reeve had said, it stuck like that.

"I never said it was a male."

I saw shock on his face, and he opened his mouth to say something, but closed it after he couldn't produce any sound.

Cid, it seemed, had been paying attention, for he had fallen out of his seat. He had miscalculated his spin.

Tifa smiled and looked back and forth towards the three of us, having no idea what was happening. She walked off after a few seconds of silence. She was a bartender after all; she needed to tend to the bar.

"Well shit," Cid shakily stood up and found his place on the bar, turning his attention towards me. "Who is it?"

"There ain't many girls around this place. Is it someone we know?" Barret chugged his drink. It seemed this came as more of a shock to him then I had anticipated. I inwardly frowned, not having the will power to do it physically.

"Yes."

"It ain't Teefs, is it? She taken' already," snorted Cid, stabbing his thumb in the direction of the bartender, who had just walked back towards Cloud and their group of friends in the corner. I noticed that we three, other than Tifa herself, where the only ones who weren't with the group. Tifa seemed to pay special attention to the blonde. Oh, so that's what Cid means.

"No, it's not Tifa."

"Huh? Really? There ain't many girls left, if any at all, now," Barret stared at our group and thought for a bit.

"It's Yuffie then?" Cid asked, turning towards me, and then making a scowl, "and don't you go lying to me that it's that Turkey Elena, or I'll have to hit you."

"I really like her," I said, smiling at the group, my eyes locked on only one particular individual.

Cid stared at the group and frowned, but Barret gave a contemplative look.

"I suppose she helped a lot too, din't she?"

"She helped out more than she knows."