I suggest reading Good Morning before reading the collection of drabbles bellow, or after. Either is fine.
I.
Shera shyly scrubbed a foamy towel over her shoulders. She wasn't totally uncomfortable, just unaccustomed to sharing the shower with someone else. Originally, she and Cid thought: Why not? Today, they were both pressed for time, and one person waiting for the other would have been a waste. Especially, since the water heater was so horribly slow, and Cid didn't want to force her to take a cold shower after he was finished like he'd done in the past. They were comfortable enough in their developing relationship. They'd seen each other naked before, right?
Cid's thigh brushed hers while groping the bathroom rack above for his shower gel. The hot spray from the overhead pelted the side of his neck, and trickles of water rolled down from his hairline into his eyes. He squinted a bit, and grabbed for the bottle again, only for it fall with obnoxious racket to the tub floor. "Ah, fuck." Cid grumbled, and brought Shera around to his front so he could better reach it.
She was barred behind his forearm, still feeling timid, but it was nice to have his wet body pressed to hers. It didn't take her (was he her boyfriend now? How surreal…) housemate long to properly wash up and place the slippery bottle back where he had taken it from. Cid didn't want to step out just yet. Shera paused the lather she was working through her hair when Cid placed her hips in a tight grip and kissed her neck from behind. How in the world could he not cease this sort of opportunity?
They were both an hour late to work.
II.
He could feel her eyes burning holes into his ankles. Cid had just gotten back from dragging in some machinery parts from the warehouse a few miles from Rocket Town. He chucked off his hard-toe work boots near the door, lumbered to the couch, and kicked his patchy sock covered feet up on the coffee table. But, shit, that wasn't allowed anymore now was it?
The Captain held his tongue, shot Shera an irritated look back, and did what he knew she wanted. No feet up where they shouldn't be. If you want something cleaned, clean it yourself, or ask nicely. If Shera was very busy, he was obligated not to bother her until she was done. And if he asked something of her, she now had the option of telling him no, sorry! Sorry his ass. Shera wasn't sorry. She was done being sorry a long time ago.
III.
A small game of trivia was initiated, because Shera was skeptical of how much Cid really knew about her. She had been tending to and living with the Captain for years now; giving her the opportunity to discover who he was on a variety of levels. She knew what he liked eating, how he took his tea, his shoe size, his prescriptions, and it didn't stop there. Shera even knew a lot of Cid's financial information, and could probably take his money and run if she ever wanted. But he surprised Shera, shocked her almost. It wasn't just the fact that he knew more than she realized, it meant that he'd always been paying attention.
Cid knew she loved honey (drank the stuff like it was water), because she always purchased sticks from the market, or hid chocolate covered honey combs in the fridge, and poured huge sugary globs of it in her tea, and when she thought he wasn't looking sucked it right out the little bear shaped bottle. And he deduced a long time ago that she didn't like speaking of her family for some equally elusive reason. And he figured her favorite color was probably yellow (because it was the secondary color of all her underwear), and she had yet to get rid of her ugly ass sweater. And he guessed that cedar wood was her favorite scent, because Rocket Town ain't got any cedar trees, and Shera smelled like one all the goddamn time. Shera informed him that she wore an essential oil on her wrists.
"What kinda woman wears wood as a perfume?!" His woman, apparently.
IV.
Some assistants on the oil rig passed each other subtle side-eyes, and corner glances in collective amusement. Shera was appointed head, and she often drifted through for progress checks and inspections on behalf of the WRO.
"Good morning." Someone was just climbing down the latter of the half-finished, metal tower when they noticed her arrive.
"Good morning." She chirped back. There was a rather warm smile on her face.
Shera was glowing this morning, and nobody needed to ask why. She had been an hour late.
V.
Shera untucked her head from the underside of her electric blanket. The TV was low in sleepy ears; flashing commercial lights glinted off the lenses of her lopsided glasses. She fixed them on her face, and Cid adjusted his legs so she wouldn't roll out of his lap on the couch. He had a tall beer can poised at his lips; he appeared distracted with whatever was on. "You still 'wake?" Cid spoke after clearing his throat, and from her angle, Shera could see his Adam's apple dip under the skin of his neck.
She wiped a bit of saliva from the side of her mouth with her sweater sleeve, stretched her back, and squinted through the lack of light in the house. Tucking her head back under her blanket, Shera twisted on her other side and fell asleep again.
"Guess not."
VI.
The calluses on the insides of Shera's knuckles grazed his bare chest with the mild texture of her palms. Her fingers teased at the blonde hair on his chest; pad of the smallest digit swiping one of his nipples. A pair of soft, full lips and a slick tongue were on his strained neck; nibbling, kissing, and biting a trail all the way down to his navel. Shera's method of touch was a method indeed. It was so slow, and so meticulous, and so sweet Cid had cavities. He groaned and tried not to take a fistful of her hair.
When he felt her warm lips on the tip of his member, blue eyes rolled to the very back of his head. The next time he got his hands on her; Cid pinned Shera down in bed and ate her like candy.
VII.
Cid had always found it easy to speak to Shera. Or, in the past, it was more accurate to say that Cid had always found it easy to talk at Shera. He could bark, growl, and complain all he wanted, and her responses were always along the lines of yes Captain, no Captain, sorry Sir. It was simple.
The fact that Shera could hold a conversation with him in complete jargon was comforting. He could trust himself to talk to her like a normal person when they were chatting over engineering, and mechanics. Chatting with her about the day-to-day now that they were building a relationship was different. Cid was trying his very hardest not to be a complete ass. The time for first impressions had long passed, but what Shera thought of him these days really, really mattered. He just wanted to make things right.
"You'll let me know if I, uh, hurt anythin'? Right, Shera?"
"Hurt anything, Captain?"
"Y'know. Feelings." Oh god, he was horrible at this.
VIII.
He'd been thinkin' about Shera a lot lately. About two times as much as he had a year ago, and fifty times as much as he had six years ago. Thoughts of her were wedging into the focus Cid should have been using to properly operate machinery. Vince advised him to take the day off and sort out what he planned to do. Tifa advised that it would probably help if he told Shera what he thought, and Nanaki keenly advised that his (girlfriend?) was probably the last person he'd be able to hide from. Might as well.
There were some very important decisions Cid had to make. He affirmed in his mind and out loud. Goddammit, he loved Shera. He ripped off his gloves, tossed them onto the counter in the kitchen, and placed a now bare hand on his forehead. He was in a cold sweat and his heartbeat was hollow in his chest. He loved her so much.
IX.
His tongue was warm and stiff, and his lips firm against hers. A scratchy chin gently bumped, and brushed Shera's chin and cheeks. The sounds of their kissing filled the comfortable silence they had fallen into, and Shera purred while following the subtle tilts of his head. The fervor he gave her slowly dwindled and Cid's kiss became something she didn't recognize. It was soft, and tender; a kiss goodnight.
Shera licked her lips after he had pulled away, and her hazel eyes searched; trying to decipher the emotion on his face. There was a look in his eyes, and Cid's lips were parted as if he had something important he wanted to say. He did, and he was too much of a fucking coward to say it, so he mouthed it instead.
"I love you, too."
X.
Shera typically wasn't the one to wear 'revealing clothing', but it was often unavoidable in the summer. She got up early in the morning on her day off, tugged on a pair of shorts, and a cut t-shirt from the volunteer group she used to work with in Rocket Town. Her goal was to get some work done in her small herb and flower garden around back, but Cid had bullied her into doing so many tasks, it was late in the afternoon before she was able to make it outside.
The sun burned over her bare shoulders while she bent over weeds and Shera deeply sighed, because she didn't plan to be this exhausted this early in the day. She was developing a six sense for the Captain, and she detected that he would come storming out of the house looking for her any moment.
"SHERA!"
There he was. She puffed out her cheeks, and removed her glasses to whisk away sweat before it could roll into her eyes. "Yes, Sir?" Shera didn't turn from the dirt just yet. She could hear the door to the house slam behind him, and Cid's short stomp down the steps, but his voice didn't continue past boisterously yelling her name.
"Is that a fuckin' bee, Shera?" Cid had ripped the needle off of whatever fit he was about to throw.
Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she pushed her granny glasses back up the sweaty bridge of her nose. Shera looked around for any bees humming over the yard, and didn't find any. She'd totally forgotten.
He meant the honey comb tattoo between her shoulder blades.
XI.
The rule that boots never made it past the inside mat near the front door was broken, and both working sets were thrown off in the bedroom as soon as they made it upstairs. Cid and Shera were silent while they undressed; too tired to hold the usual conversation. When they were done showering they wordlessly agreed to hit the hay and refuse to get up again until morning…If they got up in the morning.
Cid had lingered in the shower long after Shera had stepped out. She was tired and nervous while fiddling with a few objects in her damp hands. The opportunity to pull them out of her drawer was taken while Cid wasn't there to see. Shera sucked in a deep breath, and stood up to bravely walk back in the direction of the bathroom. Now or never. No going back.
"Cid?" She softly called his name and tapped her knuckle against the door.
"Yah, yah, I'll be out in a sec." Cid grunted while tugging a clean pair of underwear up his thighs. He clicked off the light a moment later and stepped out. Curiosity adjusted his expression and he stared for a moment. Ah, hell…what was it?
"I have something I want to ask you." Shera squared her shoulders, and took a step back so Cid could have more room to walk out into the hall. She opened up her palm to reveal a wide, hollow core bolt and washer, and watched Cid's blue eyes spark with recognition. He was familiar with what she was holding. The bolt and washer were like the custom ones created to fasten together Rocket no.26's parts. It was long gone, and the bolt and washer were probably all that remained. "Will you marry me, Captain?"
His nostrils stung and flared because he was trying extremely hard not cry. Lucky enough, the wide hollow bolt and washer fit on his ring finger. He told Shera yes (Hell, yeah!) dragged her into bed that night, and scooped her up and carried her all the way to the chapel the next morning. They were married for the first time under the shade of the old launch pad.
XII.
"Ugh! Cid, you're heavy." Shera wheezed. She had upper body strength, but not enough to force Cid's back from her chest. He easily outweighed Shera by far over one hundred pounds, so when he lost a rather playful argument, Cid settled it by sitting her lap (which was more of him smothering her whole body behind him and not just her legs).
"No, I ain't! Woman, you callin' me fat?! I'll tell you what's a fuckin' mound of lard. You remember that fatass Palmer?!" He leaned back with a grin and she squealed behind him.
Somehow, someway, Shera maneuvered her legs from under Cid's rear and pressed her feet firm against the base of his back. She pushed and just about launched him off the couch. Cid caught himself before stumbling, but his knee made an obvious dent in the wood of the coffee table.
"Look at what y'made me do!"
"You started it!" She was red-faced and absolutely dying with laughter.
XIII.
Everyone was gone for the day. The Shera had been docked for an overnight to wait, and would take off when fuel could be granted in the morning. The sky was spread out through the glass ahead, and the sun setting behind the horizon bathed the inner deck in warm, orange light. Cid didn't mind spending his birthday like this. He left the directional wheel to get a better look at the orb of yellow energy tucking itself away for the evening. He had a mind to light a cigarette and enjoy the view.
"There you are." A familiar voice was making her way down to where he was.
"Shera?" Cid turned to greet her. He wasn't expecting to see his wife until later for dinner, but she brought dinner and a warm chocolate cake to him.
"Happy Birthday, Captain."
He didn't mind spending his birthday like this at all.
XIV.
At some point they'd finished eating their little celebratory feast of Cid's favorite foods, and blew out the lit candles of his cake (Shera was sweet enough to sing to him). Chatting after cake somehow led to a kiss, and a kiss lead to kisses, and long story short, Shera sat in Cid's lap and rode him like he owned a saddle right down on the flight deck. The setting sun drenched her bouncing body in warm evening light, and Cid watched the view from below. He was so inwardly pissed at himself. He could have been spending his birthday like this ages ago.
XV.
The process to having Cid's 'engagement ring' plated, slightly reshaped, and resized into something he could actually present as a wedding ring was tedious. At one point, it burned a hole in his wallet, and another is his nerves. It meant so much to him that Shera went through the trouble of keeping those parts. Even though it took forever to have the Rocket no.26 bolt fashioned into something comfortable to slip on his finger, he decided to have the washer plated in silver and shaped as well. Shera deserved to have a ring that matched.
One the asswipes that kept fucking him over offered to have an opal rock placed on Shera's band free of charge. At first, it pissed him off, because who in the world buys a gem stone instead of a diamond for a wedding ring? When he saw it, though, Cid was convinced that the opal rock was for her. A diamond couldn't compare to a small galaxy. And well…it was free.
XVI.
"Alright, Shera you gottah tell me what the hell is up with you and honey." Cid had been watching her. She had her legs folded neatly on the couch while she poured a disgusting amount of the sticky stuff in her tea mug. He figured the tea probably wasn't even tea anymore. Just supersaturated sugar water.
"Oh," she shyly stirred a spoon around inside the hot ceramic "I used to spend summers with a research group when I studied for one of my degrees. It was required that we have meet a biology prerequisite each year. I sort of took to looking after, and studying bees for a capstone project. I enjoyed it; I went home with plenty of non-processed honey each year."
"That why you got that tattoo on yer' back?" Cid squinted.
Shera seemed honestly embarrassed. "Just…something from my wilder days."
"Wild? You're yankin' my chain."