I.

The air was so much crisper here. It was like ice in her lungs; stinging but invigorating. It served to wake her alongside the bitter flavor of the community coffee pot. She'd been working here behind the strong line of the Nibelheim Mountains for more than a year now, but the novelty of the atmosphere had yet to wear off. Her mother warned her that she probably wouldn't have liked it, after a life of growing up at sea level and treading sand, but the hard rock and grit, and the evergreen trees were just fine.

The ShinRa acceptance letter had left her shaking under the hug of banana leaves that shaded her mother's high front porch. She remembered shrieking loud enough to draw upon the attention of her neighbors, and they lived several hiking stair stilts up along the island cove. Oh glory, all her life, Shera dreamed of absolute altitude. She was finally going to leave, finally going to do something more with her life.

Her mother was jaded in watching her leave. It was more of Shera trusting that her mother could live on her own, and not the other way around. Mother Joules couldn't help but issue negative circumstance after another, one more dreary 'what-if', but that wasn't going to work this time. Shera couldn't be sour in light of her mother's demeanor, though, she wouldn't have earned gold stars program after program if that had been the case. Gathering her courage, she left her mother her new prepared contact, and address somewhere on the western continent, and wished herself good luck. Here she was now, months later and enjoying her relative freedom, and surely enjoying forgetting where she came from for just a little while. Even if the job wasn't what she was truly gunning for, she took it with refined vigor.

The coffee had lost a portion of its heat and no longer burned her tongue. Shera pressed her glasses up the cold flat of her nose and narrowed her eyes into the details of the daily statists she had been hired to oversee. The lists were seemingly endless, but she was born to be kept busy.

"Hey, !" Some of the other hired engineers were passing her by on the way to the newly refurbished technical center on the other side of the owned plot. Shera lifted her head; allowing the pencil poised at the edge of her lips to sag. The fellow, couldn't have been too much older than she was, adjusted his name badge and waved.

"Something wrong?" Shera took her pencil from her mouth and stuck it in one of the pockets of her lab coat.

"Something right, actually!" He seemed pretty excited. "They finally bagged a potential pilot from the Special Arms. Palmer says the president hired him sometime earlier this week, and they're just flying him in."

"A pilot?" Shera furrowed her brows. They didn't even have a rocket together yet. As far as she knew, the technical team were still considering a mass of possible prototypes. Rockets one through twenty had been…disappointing. Hiring teams had been switched several times. Probably why they only had one willing participant, and not a whole flight crew. The project was new and daunting.

"I know right. We're all going to go bring in the welcome wagon. You know how it is, round up the whole gang, and talk him up." He continued on his way when she placed her clipboard down on the bench where she had been working. She guessed it would be proper to join the gang and get a load of the 'new guy'.

II.

"Here he is!" Palmer made a 'ta-da!' sort of motion in debuting the so called 'Celestialnaut' in training. The Space Program director clasped his chubby hands and grinned at the crowd that had gathered under the sky lighting inside the general auditorium. "This here is Captain Cid Highwind. He'll be working with us for now on. As part of his now, um, honorary duties on the staff, he'll be training for spaceflight and overseeing preparations for an eventual success! Wanna say a few words Cap, hehe?"

Shera had to press around a few tightly packed shoulders to get a good look. She squinted behind the sky lighting gleam in her glasses to get a good look at the new Celestialnaut standing at Palmer's side. He chewed on the butt of and extinguished cigarette; his gloved hands shoved in his pocket. Shera couldn't tell how old he was, but he was a sturdy looking, midsized man that seemed to radiate confidence. His blond hair was neatly trimmed and slicked back over the top of his head, and his blue eyes glinted with mild interest in the afternoon light that draped over his shoulders and haloed the crown of his head.

Captain Highwind scratched his chin in nonchalance, and then spoke. "Y'all know my name now, and what to expect of me, so, I'll tell ya what I expect." He stuffed his hand back in his pocket and took a few steps down from the platform. "I've got a no bullshit policy. If something's up, or new, I wanna be the first to know. I dish out orders, and I expect to have em' followed with no excuses. I ain't a fresh rooster. As some of y'all may know, I transferred over from Weapons as a combat pilot and flight developer. Got a couple hundred hours under my belt, and I know what makes a good machine, so you ain't got to question my know-how." His eyes were firm in glancing from face to face.

"Fresh rooster?" Someone whispered.

"Country boy." They snickered and Shera gave an amused hum in agreement. She was a little surprised to hear the tone of his voice and his…vocabulary. This was going to be interesting.

"So, that's all I got for now, lackeys." Cid made his full descent down the stairs and Palmer waddled after him. The crowd had gotten their ear and eye of Captain Highwind, and were shuffling back out to their duties.

"Ah! Wait!" Palmer huffed. He narrowed his eyes through the parting bodies, and then gasped. "Hey! Ms. Lady! Ahh, Joules!" The director remembered her name for once. "Wait!"

Shera blinked in surprise and stopped in her tracks. She pointed to herself ( Me? ), and Palmer affirmatively nodded his head ( Yes, you!). She waited for them to approach her. "Is there something I can help you with, Sir?"

"Sure is." Palmer cleared his throat and folded his arms behind his back. "I've got one more job for you. Think you could show Captain Highwind around. I'm gonna make you his official assistant so he can get a handle on what's here, yeah?!" He grinned a little wider. The fat of his neck folded in his jolliness and Shera's forehead creased in slight apprehension.

"An assistant, Sir? I'm already overseeing some systems functions. I think it might conflict." She'll be dammed if she was going to be stuck being an assistant again. She scraped for the position she had now.

"Oh! You're a big girl, you can handle Cap'n, can't you?" Palmer chortled.

"Ah…of course." Shera prudently agreed. She eyed Captain Highwind. He had his arms crossed during their exchange. He appeared to be sizing Shera up. She could feel his blue eyes roaming from head to toe. It's not like she was going to be the Captain's assistant the whole time, right? She'd show him around, and then be out of his hair.

"I'll let you two get situated, hehe." Palmer teetered toward the double doored exit. "And don't forget to send in those reports!" He waved behind him.

Shera sighed and turned her attention back to her escortee. Captain Highwind had uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his hips. "So, you gonna stare all damn day, or are you gonna show me around?"

"Uh…right." Shera smothered her blush before it could surface on her cheeks and got a move on. "Follow me this way, Sir."

III.

"And this will probably be your commons while we're working here. It's just a place to debrief, rest, and have breaks. This building, it leads right down into maintenance for the launch pad a few miles down field. They have quite a few trees cleared away in preparation for larger prototypes." Shera tugged a thick manila packet from behind the metal clamp of her clipboard. She chewed the inside of her cheek; watching Captain Highwind assess what might as well have been a temporary living quarters. He dug through the small kitchen, opened a closet or two, and didn't seem to mind the clutter.

"Guess this'll be an alright bunk. What's upstairs?" He seemed to consider climbing up the steps. The Captain placed his hand on the rail and curiously craned his head up to see over the banister.

"I don't dwell here too often, I'm not sure." Shera cleared her throat to recapture his attention. "This is a collection of some of the previous launch models. You're welcome to—"

"You can save it. I don't wanna read any of that. They failed, so that's that." Captain Highwind removed his jacket. He frowned at the confusion clinging to Shera's features. "Listen, Ms. Watts , I just wanna know what they're cookin' up now. I ain't got any time to waste. These fat cats are guzzlin' major cash, and they wanna see results." He grinned just a bit. "And I'm ready to give em' what they've been waitin' for. Understand?"

It's Joules. "I suppose, Sir." Shera rolled her tongue on the inside of her mouth. She placed the packet right back where she had clipped it. She glanced back up again to find him removing his scarf as well, and placed his removed garments on a crooked coat rack. His gloves were removed after and he grasped his waist in a good stretch. He closed one eye when their gazes locked again and he tilted his head.

"Are you going to stare all day?" Shera slanted her head in the same direction; repeating his words from earlier. The Captain's expression was an unreadable one.

"You're a little young to be an analyst, aren't ya?" He closed his other eye, and opened the one that'd been closed before. Captain Highwind tilted his head in the opposite direction, and Shera followed that motion as well. A small gesture, but kinda bold of her. Cid had pegged her as probably the quiet know-it-all; feisty if you poked her. He liked Ms. Decibels well enough to accept her as an assistant.

"I suppose I am, but I wouldn't worry about my qualifications." Shera pursed her lips at his question.

Captain Highwind approached her. His stern, crystaly blue eyes held a good amount of curiosity. "Qualifications, eh? What's your background, Jolts?"

It's Joules…

Her eyes darted down to the revealed dogtag that twinkled in the dim light of the housing, and then back up to his face. She watched the curved bow of his lips and the dimples that dented his jaw when his smug grin stretched his features. She licked her teeth on the inside of her mouth. The Captain's sets were a perfectly straight, pearly white row. And, even though it was smug, it suited his handsome; squared face.

"Automotive engineering, astrophysics, statistical studies, of course." Shera inwardly slapped her wrist when she noticed she was twirling a piece of her bangs between her fingers.

"That's some heavy duty stuff you're talkin' up there, kid." The Captain wrapped up his assessment.

"I didn't pack my degrees with me, otherwise, I'd be prepared for this job interview. I'm young but very excited to be here."

"Shit," the Captain scoffed and the corners of his eyes formed charming little crinkles "you'n me are gonna get along just fine, Hertz."

IV.

Months of construction rolled by. Shera spent her mornings out in the fields, her afternoons trying not to day dream, and her evenings catching up on lost time. It began as an unbearable chore to have to follow Captain Highwind around. All of her other tasks were always rattling around in the back of her mind, but the Captain happened to be very hard to get away from. If she excused herself to work on other things, he'd always seemed to be able to find her, and have her conduct his bidding. Which was annoying, and familiar, and even more annoying that it was familiar. If she wanted to continue to be an errand runner, she would have remained at home with her mother. The bright side of course, was that he was very, very cute. And that if he was bickering, at least the bass in his voice was appealing.

"Hey, Kid, be a doll n' put on a pot of water fer' me." The Captain grunted. He lifted a fresh cigarette to his lips and lit it. Shera waved her hand at the table of the small living quarters to dissipate some of the smoke. She ignored that that bothered her, and pretended he hadn't asked her to boil some water for him.

"Hey…" Captain Highwind barked. "I know ya heard me. Pull the knot out your panties. It's just a pot of water. I ain't askin' ya to draw me a damn bath." He smelled like chlorine from the submerged suit testing they'd had him perform earlier today. The Captain expected she was bitter because had to stay and watch, but it was quite the opposite.

"Water for what, Captain?" Shera sighed and removed her hands from the keyboard of her company issued computer. He was very cute, and he was also very demanding. He was lucky she had a reservoir of patience.

"Got some brew and stuck it up in the kitchen cupboard. I want some of it before I turn in for the night." He pulled the mentioned box out of the storage and chucked it onto the table. The Captain was scarfing down something he'd snagged from the new district bar and diner, and plopped down at the opposite side of the table from where she'd stationed her work.

"Tea?" Shera supposed not everyone drank loose leaf. They were some generic packets in flavors she had never heard of before.

"Uh, huh. Don't care if you have any." He exhaled through his nostrils, closed his eyes, and sat back in his hard wooden seat. Shera gazed at him from the corner of the kitchen counter. She placed an overused kettle on the stove top after filling it in the sink. She could see his mouth moving. Was he talking to himself?

"They're um," Shera paused to press some of her hair behind her ear "they're preparing to launch twenty four tonight. I received an email stating that they would like for you to be present for count down."

"Present?!" Cid stiffened and he sat right on up in his seat. "Just present? Why the fuck ain't I on that one?!" By his tone of voice, he was deeply offended.

"We want to insure we can manufacture a rocket that can maintain orbit." Shera began to explain. She reclaimed her seat at the table, saved her work, and then closed her device.

"Fuck, what? What about twenty one? Ain't that one work? What's the hold up?" Captain Highwind scowled. He was beginning to think some of the others in charge were being a little lackadaisical. Wasting time on more models, when they had perfectly good ones to satisfy the higher ups. Perfectly good ones that would satisfy his own anxiousness to haul ass off the lithosphere.

Shera could somewhat understand his hostility. The anticipation ate away at her heart sometimes, too. She wanted to see all of the hard work really pay off…but she knew better. Good things, no great things took a little time. Nurturing. Perfecting. "You're an engineer, Captain, right?" Of course he was. "You know they have to refine. Rocket twenty one had made orbit before we encountered some malfunctions. It needed to be reworked."

"Alright, so, what about twenty two?" His scowl hardened.

"Pressurization inside specific chambers were less than satisfactory. Some of the initial materials eroded or burned off leaving the atmosphere. We um, had to request different exteriors in light of re-entry."

"Twenty three? What the hell was wrong with that, then?!"

"It worked, but—"

"Alright, fuckin' save it." He gnashed his teeth. "They gonna trash this one?"

"I'm not sure. If this has more promise, we'll send the next one up with something living."

The fire in the Captain's eyes reignited. He got the inkling it wouldn't be him just yet, but he could hope. "Fuckin' fantastic." He dug his elbows into the table and ruddied his already disheveled hair with his hands. He ashed his cigarette in a tray. "When's count down?"

"It's scheduled for twenty one hundred hours, Sir. I plan to attend as well."

V.

"Colder than the devil's heart out here." Cid muttered to himself. He suddenly wished his jacket had longer sleeves. His breath left him in plumes; leaving the underside of his nose damp and runny. He was sore, and tired, and all he could think of was having someone pour him a stiff one. Maybe he would. Some aspects of his training didn't agree with him, but for his sake, they better in time. G-force, weightlessness, egress, and on and on and on. That would be considered the fun stuff. What did he have next? Safety precautions, cases of emergencies, yadda yadda yadda.

Yellow street lamps of the research plot illuminated the frozen puddles that dotted dirt paths. It had been snowing on and off; halting much of the continued preparations. He really needed things to get a move on. Palmer was breathing down his neck trying to urge him to rally things along, which only meant that their investor, the big red diamond, was breathing down the porky guy's neck in turn. He didn't want a little more time either. Cid could almost taste the stars. He was feeling a little weightless right now. Or, at least he really, really wanted to. He'd been dreaming of absolute altitude since he was a snot nosed runt. Ever since his momma threw his ass in one of her jet planes and told him the sky was never the limit. Shit.

"Shit!" Cid hissed. He'd nearly fallen on his ass not paying attention to where he was letting his feet fall. He sobered his thoughts and dug around in his pocket for his phone. He'd very slyly bagged Shera's number, some bullshit he made up about needed to contact her in case of emergencies, and currently debated asking her if she wanted to grab something to drink with him. He liked her, a little more than he allowed himself to dwell on.

A real cutie was what she was (in a kinda nerdy sorta way), a smart ass, and sometimes a little too reserved for his liking, but a real swell piece of work. No one would rag on him for her being a little young right? I mean, at the moment, he was just kind of workin' on being her friend. She was real good company. Cid liked having her around. And he really didn't accept anyone else following some of his instructions. By now, she really was his personal assistant.

"Hn…hello?" He straightened up at the sound of her voice against his ear. Cid wriggled his fingers around in his free hand to relieve some of the numbness the temperature had gifted him. She sniffed, and he could hear the creak of an office desk in the background. Poor gal had probably fallen asleep over her work again.

"Hey, wake up." Cid continued walking as he spoke into the receiver.

"I'm awake, Captain. Are you okay?" She sounded concerned. Bless her heart.

"Yeah. Come meet me over at the diner."

VI.

He could see she was confused at first to find absolutely nothing was wrong. Cid had chuckled and patted the bar stool next to him. "Plop yer' ass on down and order up a drink. It's on me…" Cid gently rubbed the chill from his nose and watched her slowly plant herself in the stool beside him. She gazed up and over her shoulders; taking note of the interior of the still relatively new diner. He figured this was probably her first time being inside. Geeze, did she never get out, or was she really always working?

"I thought you'd only call in case of emergencies, Captain?" Shera loosened her grip on the bag she had carried in with her. Who knows what she'd brought with her. Probably a first aid kit. The thought made him snort.

"Something funny?"

"Nah, Amps." Cid knew exactly what her last name was, and took a constant delight in seeing that reserved feistiness in her eyes. She was going to finally correct him one of these days. He really just liked to fuck with her. "And I'm considern' this an emergency." He made a circular motion with his finger and whistled to the bar tender. "Make it two cold ones. Tall Mugs." Cid glanced back at Shera. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses. Uh… "You can drink, can't ya?"

"I'm not that young, Sir." She blushed and pressed those full, soft looking lips into a line. Shera looked like she wanted to laugh. "I can drink. I just don't think I'm going to be able to drink the same amount as you. Before you ask, yes, I'm a lightweight." She scooted up in place to remove her glasses and rub at her eyes. She was probably tired.

"I wasn't gonna ask." Cid lied. "And I'll down what you don't." He pulled out a red carton from his pocket and thumbed out a cigarette. "Don't mind, do ya?"

Shera shook her head. "I don't mind." She placed her glasses back on her nose and slowly pulled her freshly poured drink in her direction by the coaster. Cid watched her out of the corner of his eye while she sipped.

"So uh," Oh man…he hadn't taken a woman out in how many years? Not that this fully counted, or anything. "You know the status?"

He knew she'd be aware of what he meant by the question. Shera contained a small belch and righted the hair that fell into the collar of her sweater. She seemed to pause for just a moment to think of how she was going to phrase the information that was going to come out of her mouth. "They're refining a template. Twenty five was scheduled to launch earlier this week, but you know with all the snow and…" Shera dug around in her pocket and produced her phone to show him her lock screen. "The good news is that we found a nice cat." She reached for her drink to distract herself from Cid's reaction.

Cid almost snorted beer from his nose. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" Some of the other patron's spending the late evening in the bar zoned in on the source of the racket Cid caused. He snatched a napkin from a canister, and with a flushed face, patted droplets of liquid from his scarf. "A cat?! They're going to send a fucking cat?!"

"A pretty nice looking cat, too." The voice that responded to him was not Shera's. Cid's expression immediately soured. A man, no taller than he was and sporting a heavier, leather coat collected his things from his table. He would eventually pass them by, but paused to fucking instigate. He peered at Cid from behind his scruffy eyebrows, and stroked the dark, burly beard that engulfed his chin. "You think they wasted their damn time on both of us, Highwind?" The slow tip of his head wasn't intended to be particularly friendly. He examined Shera for a moment, before finally minding his own damn business and ringing the top bell on the way out.

"Who was that?" Shera considered him random, but Cid knew exactly who he was, and why he even bothered to comment. That wasn't any of her business, though.

"Don't worry about it." Cid raised his mug to his lips and used the cold, frothing liquid to smother his temper.

VII.

The rest of the evening rolled by until it was time for the lamp lights to go out. The woman let him talk, and talk, and talk, and she didn't stop him. He wondered if Shera had general interest in what he was rambling about, or if she was really good at pretending to listen. Either way, they were the last ones left, so Cid excused them before the diner manger had the mind to kick them out.

Past the fogged windows, the street was nearly pitch black. It had started to rain again. And soon enough, the rain had turned into more snow. Cid could see it lightly tapping against the frames and collecting in the edges of the panes. He frowned.

"Hey, let me walk ya home."

Shera kindly waved him off. "I'm not tipsy, Captain." She scooted out of her stool and yawned. She swiped away from the picture of their Meowstronaut… and checked the time in the top corner of her phone screen. "I can walk home."

"You sure? I ain't gonna get handsy. Not that kinda fella. Unless you want me to be." He threw the disclaimer out there. "It's pretty dark out. You live way out on the other side, right? Near the apartment plot?"

Shera gave him a very charmed look. She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I do. I've got my coat, and a taser. Besides, you'd have to walk all the way back to this side of town. I think you'll scare my roommate."

"A little cold ain't gonna kill me. I'll walk ya. Or, you know, you could come stay the night over at the bunk. It's not like half of your shit isn't already layin' around there."

Hmm…he had a point. "I…suppose." Part of her wondered what his intentions were, but his eyes communicated sincerity. Shera was agreeable to spending the night.

And that concludes chapter one. Thank you for reading! Until next chapter. R and R!