I don't know what inspired this. Probably I was tired of all the nice-guy Vincent fics, and that he was always the one being chased after. This is an angle not often explored, because we like we see our heroes as such, heroes. I have no clue if this will ever be continued.
Title: Viable Shadows
Summary: Vincent loves Yuffie. Now all he has to do is convince her of it. Dark Yuffentine. Vincent is not a nice man. He made into the Department of Administrative Research on his own.
There comes to a point when even he can't deny it.
"I love you." Vincent confesses to her one day.
And Yuffie does the most confusing, bewildering thing.
She laughs.
"You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you?" she asks, wiping tears from her eyes.
He blinks at the stunning reply and she is gone before he can recover, grabbing hold of her Conformer and disappearing in a flash of blue, grey, and beige.
"Why didn't you believe me?" He finally asks the next time, when he gathers the courage, which is hours after their four-day mission was completed.
She looks at him shrewdly, but she doesn't pretend not to know what he is referring to.
"Because you're you," she says, "and you don't fall in love that easily. And even if you are, you wouldn't admit it. Not to anyone. Not without severe prompting and heavy pressure."
He stares at her.
She sighs almost exasperated. "The thing about you Vinnie," she tells him, "is that you've got a guilt complex. And you don't believe you deserve to be happy. So if you loved someone, other-than and-after Lucrecia, you wouldn't admit it. Especially not to the person in question."
She is down the hall and entering Reeve's office before he can formulate a reply.
"Can't sin be forgiven?" He says weeks later.
"Why are you asking me?" she questions, "I'm a ninja, remember? I don't have your moral dilemmas."
"But ninjas do have their own type of honor." He murmurs.
Her eyes are sharp, intrigued and cautious at his knowledge, but she only smirks. "We leave the honor to the swordsmen."
"You love me." He tells her, "Tifa told me."
She blinks, "Yeah."
He has no response for that.
She laughs at his blank faced speechlessness. "What, did you expect me to deny it?"
"…Yes."
"Well, too bad." She shrugs, "I'm past that outward denial phase."
"And now you're what?"
She rolls her eyes. "I'm in love with you."
He stares. "Yet you won't believe me."
She sighs. "If you have to project your guilty non-love complex on someone, can't you do it to Shelke or something? She's the one who's the walking, talking memory of Lucrecia."
He knows, Shelke is one of the reasons why he realized that memory was no longer enough. The reasons and his love for Lucrecia is all wrapped up in his past and past circumstances, they are longer the same as the present. He finds that instead of calm and sophistication, he needs exuberance and vigor, and she stands right in front of him, the beam of energy that burst into his life and wouldn't leave him in peace in the dark.
"It's not self-projection." He denies.
"Uh, hello Vinnie," she jumps up on a rock for leverage and knocks him on the head, "in case you're wondering, you've got the wrong girl. You're confessing to the wrong person, Shelke won't return your love, you know."
"…she's a walking, talking memory of Lucrecia." He reminds her.
Yuffie thinks. "Tifa then."
He sighs, because she is being frustrating.
"Why won't you believe me?"
She sends him an annoyed glance, they are in the middle of hiking through the wilderness, wild fiends lurking around them. "Haven't we went though that 'don't-believe-I-deserve-happiness' complex of yours already?"
"That's not the reason." He says forcefully.
"Can't we like," she gestures to the deepening shadows, "have this conversation when we're not in mortal danger of being killed by monsters?"
Crimson eyes stare at her. "We are not at the level where a few fiends would give us trouble."
She kicks the dirt and mutters under her breath. She doesn't deny his statement, knowing it is futile, but neither does she deign to converse on the other subject either.
"Let's find a place for camp." She says and sprints off to the distance.
"Yuffie."
"Vinnie."
"Yuffie." He repeats firmly in the night, sitting by the fire, knowing she is still awake.
She turns around in her sleeping bag, facing him with stern eyes. "Vincent."
"Yuffie," he says again, a bit mollified that at least she isn't pretending to be asleep anymore.
"I'm not having this conversation now."
"Why not?"
"Because I have to put up with you for another three days," she huffs, "and if I don't get enough sleep tonight, then I'm going to be very irritated and irritating for the next few days."
"You can't avoid it forever." He tells her.
"Look who's talking." She rolls back over and tucks her chin under the blanket.
"He's being impossible." Yuffie whines at Tifa, sliding her body down on the stool until her chin touches the bar. "Especially when we all know that he doesn't really love me."
Tifa continues to dry the glasses. "Maybe he does."
Yuffie looks at the other woman balefully. "Tifa, it's Vincent."
"I know that Yuffie." Tifa says amused.
"And it's me."
"I know that too."
"He used to be in love with Lucrecia."
"…" Tifa pauses.
"Still is. Have you seen and heard about that woman?"
"…Yuffie…"
The ninja girl holds up a palm. "And we have Shelke, the living memory. Do you really think he could forget about her, when we have a walking, talking reminder?"
"…" Tifa places the cup and cloth down, looking away.
"Now, do you really believe that he could be in love with me when Lucrecia is almost as good as still with us?"
"It's hard to fight with a memory of a loved one." Tifa whispers, "They never do anything wrong."
"Exactly."
Tifa glances at the younger woman. "You don't want to believe he is in love with you?"
"For what? Shelke is going to grow up and be physically and mentally mature in a few years. Do you think I can win against that?"
Tifa sighs.
"I don't know how to make her believe."
Cloud pauses in his tinkering with Fenrir. "I don't think I am the best person to talk to."
"You're the only one I can talk to." Vincent replies.
Cloud stands, wiping his oily hands with a washcloth. "Well, there's nothing I can tell you. Our circumstances aren't exactly the same now, is it?"
Vincent watches the setting sun. "No. But it's similar."
"Well, you love her. That helps." Cloud drops the cloth.
Vincent looks at him. "You don't?"
The blonde's shoulders sag slightly. "I do. But I'm not in love with her."
Vincent waits.
Cloud shrugs minutely. "My memories have come back. Most of them. And I remember…" his voice is subdued, "she gave me a reason to be strong, but he gave me a reason to live. There's no fighting that."
No there isn't. But the gendered pronoun is an unknown development. He would have thought it was another 'she'.
"Not Aeris?"
Cloud smiles crookedly, "She was his girlfriend."
Ah.
"And when you're living his life and yours…when you're living for him and you…"
"I see." Vincent replies evenly.
Cloud's smile is almost sad, "No, you don't."
He doesn't press her for a while, taking time to make his decisions. She probably thinks he has given up. Another few months later and Vincent is tired of waiting. Because she is getting older, aging, and so is he again, but too slowly. But decades had been stolen from him, her entire lifetime, and if he sleeps so again, she might be gone the next time he wakes.
"What you doing Monster Man?" She chirps mischievously, hoisting herself onto the next stool.
He, and, damn it, Galian Beast, responds. "Nothing." Vincent replies, and Galian rumbles softly at being acknowledged by her words.
"Pfft. That's so boring." She proclaims and waves at Tifa. "Coke-and-rum!"
"Should you be having that?" Tifa asks, amused.
Yuffie rolls her eyes. "I'm twenty-two! I'm old enough already!"
Tifa laughs, nostalgic of their teasing, and mixes the drink. "Here you go," and slides the glass over the counter. Cid catches her attention from the other end of the counter, where there is lighting and jovialities.
"I never tried this one before," Yuffie confides conspiratorially, "but I've had margaritas, daiquiri, beer, straight vodka," she made a face, "and martinis. The Turkeys suggested this one." She turns away to watch the drunken antics of the people in mention, and Reno sticks out his tongue, crossing his eyes when he's noticed.
Yuffie is busy shouting and giving the blue suits the finger as Vincent reaches over and drops the tablet into the dark liquid. It dissolves quickly and is undetectable by the time she turns back and grabs hold of the glass, chugging the drink in one long gulp. She slams the glass down, ice cubes chinking, blinking watery eyes.
"Whoa," she remarks, "that was a rush. Hey Tifa! Another one!"
"How many have you had?" Tifa shouts back.
"Not enough!"
Cid roars with laughter, "We taught her right!"
"I'm busy." Tifa says from down the bar, shaking drinks for the crowded corner.
Yuffie scowls but is defected by the words, "I'll make you one, Yuffie."
The ninja turns to see Marlene standing on a box behind the counter. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be upstairs?"
Marlene grins. "It's okay; I'm not going to drink. Everyone's too busy drinking to notice me anyways." Meaning that Barret is already drunk. "And I can make a mean martini."
"Deal," Yuffie says, accepting the bribe.
Dutifully Marlene starts mixing the liquids, while Yuffie regales her stories of her missions, which is what Marlene came for. Marlene looks up to the energetic ninja as an idol, Tifa having been regulated to the motherly role.
"So then I was stuck in the small back watered town for another four days…can't trust weird foreign men, remember that Marlene…fiends jump-jumped out from everywhere…don't under-under-know why Reeve didn't like my report…then there was this huge building, totally diff-diff-hic-different then ours…"
It is around the second glass Yuffie begins slurring and losing her vocabulary, by the third she is swaying in her seat, by her fourth, which she never finishes, she is slumped against Vincent's side. Crimson eyes flicks over the amused girl and the daughter of the black man tilts her head in the direction of the stairs.
"I'll take her up." Vincent says.
Marlene nods. "I'll go back up too," she whispers and slips away quickly.
Vincent pries the alcohol from the ninja's clumsy fingers despite her protest. "I'm-I'm nosh done Vincensh."
"You've had enough." He tells her and scoops her up in his arms, all lanky limbs and soft curves.
"Whoa!" she exclaims at the sudden change in altitude and giggles. "Wow-wow. You shush a prinsh Charming." She tries to bat her eyelashes but groans and slumps against his shoulder instead. "Stop shpinning Vinnie," she mutters.
"I'm not." He tells her, clinging to the shadows and passing by the party unnoticed.
"Dizzy." She says, unable to lift her head. "Hot. It'sh hot Vinnie." She makes an aborted attempt to squirm before simply beginning to pluck at her clothes. "It's too hot."
"Wait until I get you into bed," he instructs, clenching her tighter, "then we can get those clothes off you."
"Promises?" she demands, lifting feverish eyes to his; glaring mutiny into glowing crimson, unafraid to meet his discerning gaze as always.
"Promise."
She wakes up the next morning sore, groggy, and only barely restrains the urge to scream.
"What the hell happened last night?" she hisses in the loudest whisper possible, clenching the blanket over her naked body.
He sits up, unembarrassed at his nakedness. "You don't remember?" He doesn't expect her to.
"No." She has a headache the size of METEOR banging at her temples. She can only recall hazy colors and indistinct murmurs when she tries to think about last night, and it was not helping.
He traces two fingertips down her cheek with his left hand. "Pity." The claw lays discarded in the corner, one of the many scattered items in the room.
"I'm in your room, sore, we're naked, our clothes are all over the place - I can deduce what happened." She snaps at him. "And stop speaking so loud."
He gets up from the bed, "I'll get you some painkillers."
She turns her head to follow him and sways, "and tell the room to stop spinning."
He looks at her sharply, "Lay down. It hasn't totally gone through your system yet."
She falls back onto the pillow, room twirling in defiance to her orders. "Vinnieee, make it stop."
A cool hand covers her forehead and she turns in his direction. "That feels nice."
It disappears and reappears under her neck, supporting her head as a glass with water and dissolving pills is tilted to her lips.
"Drink it all." He tells her calmly and she greedily gulps the cooling liquid. "Slowly." He warns when she looks like she might choke.
She glares at him balefully with half-glazed eyes. She knows how to take medication without him coaching her.
"You suck at being a nurse-maid." She whines when he refuses to give her a third glass, even though it is not the truth.
"Sleep." He commands. "When you wake up you can have more."
She grumbles at having to go back to sleep but a glance at the clocks tells her though the sun is up, she has only been asleep for several hours. It's too early to be moving around, especially the day after a drinking party.
"I should at least go back to my room." She moans, but at that moment the room decides to spin again. "&#$*!."
"Sleep."
And there is no arguing with Vincent when he slips into monosyllables in that tone.
When he wakes up again, expecting her warmth and body in the bed with him, she and all her things are gone.
Cloud confronts him the next week.
"Marlene asked me what putting a pill in an alcoholic drink does." The blonde delivery man says, pausing in his tinkering of Fenrir. Glowing blue-green eyes are sharp.
"What did you say?" Vincent returns calmly.
"I asked her not to tell Tifa."
The gunslinger inclines his head. "The question is harmless by itself."
"She said she saw you give one to Yuffie."
Vincent has suspected as much.
Cloud gives up the pretense of fixing Fenrir. "Not all of the others would understand."
"And you do?"
Cloud's lips twist in a parody of a smile. "My dream job was, ultimately, to be a mercenary."
Vincent stares calmly.
"Some of the others might forget that anything associated with the old ShinRa wasn't morally straight. You were Turk before Turk was really the name. You were there when the height of the organization was at the highest. Department of Administrative Research, covert operation for espionage, kidnappings and assassinations."
Vincent gives no reply.
"They sent you to guard Hojo. Their prized, crazed scientist. Shinra knew what he was doing, and wanted him to continue it. There must have been something that recommended you for the job."
Vincent inwardly applauds Cloud's deductions. "I carry monsters within me because of Hojo. I got into Department of Administrative Research, Turks, on my own." He agrees.
"Espionage, kidnappings and assassinations." Cloud's lip quirks upwards. "We're not good men Vincent Valentine."
"You never actually made it into SOLDIER." Vincent reminds him.
Cloud falls silent. "Not then. Too scared. Too naive. Too soft."
"And now?"
"Now?" He asks cynically, "Rufus called me a would-be SOLDIER, First Class."
Vincent remains quiet. Cloud turns back to his bike.
"Best of the best." The leader of AVALANCHE whispers after a while. "You and me Vincent. The last of the best. The old ShinRa."
Not good men indeed.
Yuffie puts it together a week later. She is not stupid, no matter how her personality tricks some people into thinking so.
She slams into him, and slams him into the wall of a deserted corridor, her stormy eyes blazing. "It hasn't totally gone through your system yet?" She repeats his words fiercely back at him.
"Yuffie." He greets her, ignoring the awkward angle his body was at, her hands fisted into the collar of his cloak.
"The fuck, Vincent Valentine!" She says angrily. "What the fuck did you do that for? Why?"
"It took you some time." He notes.
"I was busy!" She shouts at him, "I had missions and reports and urg! Never mind that!" She pulls him down even more, standing on her tip toes to breath into his face. "Why the fuck did you drug my drink?"
A hand, not his claw, molds itself to her waist and suddenly he reverses the situation, picking her small form up bodily and turning, pressing her into the wall. Her feet dangling in the air, his thigh between her legs, his hand gripping her tightly, he leans down to breath warm air into her slightly open lips.
"I was tired of waiting." He tells her.
She snarls. "So you put a date rape drug in my drink. The hell Vincent, you couldn't wait for Shelke to grow another foot before getting some action?"
He growls, tracing tiny circles on her hip with his thumb. "I don't want her."
She frowns but her body is trembling, just the smallest bit. He knows how to make it good for her. The skin to skin contact, so rare and forbidden between them, is an aphrodisiac on its own.
She looks away sharply to the left, away from the direction the sensations originate, and he places the claw arm on the wall, blocking her view, coloring her sight in red and gold.
"Yuffie." He says guttural.
She refuses to respond, but her body is shaking.
"Yuffie." He repeats in a low tone, leaning in closer, his breath a trail of fire on the pale skin of her neck.
"Vincent." The voice is clear, sharp, and male.
Vincent straightens his back, turning to see Reeve at the end of the corridor.
The WRO executive's eyes are hard. "What are you doing?"
Yuffie stiffens at the familiar voice and pushes at him, trying to scramble away. Vincent steps back and Reeve's eyes widen at the familiar figure. Yuffie does not acknowledge either men, sprinting down the opposite direction of the hall, disappearing around the corner as fast as she could. Vincent never answers the man's question, calmly walking in the direction she took off.