an: A part of the Fighting for a Chance stories, something that will be mentioned in Not Just Passing Time. Cid never wanted to be a part of ShinRa.

Accompaniment: A Case of the Spooked

Cid Highwind was having a good day. More job offers than a young man could handle were littering his feet. Chances to make a difference, to become something of legend, to help people and to see SPACE were spread out before him. It was like some red carpet of hope, or something poetic, but Cid was an engineer, not a poet, though he'd known a few in flight school.

He'd managed to narrow down the places that he wanted to work for, though. ShinRa was easy to take off his list, not that he considered himself to be a "tree hugger" or anything of the sort, but there was simply something wrong with that entire corporation.

Now Junon Space Institute? All they needed was a man with a vision and drive and the brains to pull it off. Cid felt that he was that man. He was going to go to the bar, have himself his last drink as a jobless college grad, then call Junon and tell them he accepted.

Smiling to himself, Cid was so lost in his thoughts that he barely heard his PHS ring. He flipped it open without reading the caller ID, thinking that it would be one of his grandparents. While they were still sharp as tacks, sometimes they forgot things, like when Cid said he'd be over to fix a faucet.

"Ah said I'd be roun-"

"At seven, yes, I'm aware." The voice that responded was most assuredly NOT the voice of either of his grandparents. It was too young, too smooth and far too cold to be either of the people that raised him.

Feeling the hair lift up on the back of his neck, Cid growled. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Someone you wouldn't wish to make angry, Cid." The man's voice continued. "I was rather surprised to have been notified to call you, not many people turn down that sort of funding and … benefits."

There was a pause where Cid grit his teeth. "Ah ain't no whore sellin out fer money, ShinRa." He snapped into the phone.

This was rewarded with a short, humorless laugh from the tenor voice. "I'm not exactly a ShinRa, I'm just a friend."

"Well then, what's yer NAME friend?" Oh he hated mind games.

"Nothing of consequence." The voice assured. "I was just calling to tell you that the lock on your grandparents back door is loose. You may want to fix that when you swing by there tonight. It would be a real shame for something to … occur."

"Is that a threat, asshole?" No one, and that was NO ONE threatened Cid's family.

"Oh, most certainly not! I'm simply saying that ShinRa offers some amount of … assurance against occurrences."

A cigarette found its way into Cid's mouth and he stopped, glaring around the country road. Usually he liked walks out of the way of people; it let him talk to himself a bit. He thought better that way. Suddenly, however, the idea of not being around his grandparents worried him. "I don't know who you think you are, asshole, or how fuckin slick you may ASSUME ta be, but you touch them and I'll rip yer head off." He fumbled for his lighter.

"Your lighter is in your other pocket." The voice offered.

The cigarette fell from Cid's mouth as his hand checked the other pocket and closed over the zippo. "Where th-"

The smooth voice overtook his then. "Be seeing you…" And then the caller hung up.