I'm not completely sure what this is, or what's going on here.

I.
Shera's fingers flowed over the different materials, textures, and patterns. Something sheer, lacy, black, and accented in an electric blue caught her eye. She timidly tugged at the shimmer of the ribbon that outlined the overly expensive item. It was a baby-doll. She'd never worn one before or anything like it for that matter. Actually, this was her first time in an intimate store. How she wound up slipping inside from the street was by a mysterious urge; tangoed with a bit of curiosity. Shera was flexing the bit of autonomy she had as an adult. In honestly, it was something she had been meaning to do, but her personal time was consumed and bitten out in chunks by a looming obligation to her housemate.

There was nothing wrong with wanting to...treat herself, right? This was probably cutting into the time the Captain allotted her to run by the warehouse, but she hoped he wouldn't mind her being a smidgen late home. Cid didn't have to know all of what she was up to.

Every so often, Shera would turn her head to the store front to make sure no one was paying any particular attention to her browsing. Just browsing. That's all. Browsing, and bashfully tempted to take something home. Checking over her shoulder, Shera found some of the other customers combing through the racks, and thankfully minding their own business. She dipped her head a bit, unhooked a hanger, and re-hooked the probable purchase over her forearm. Shera had her eyes set on the small collection of fitting rooms, but paused when something else drew her attention. Her eyes darted to a neatly organized aisle of toys juxtaposed to the fitting room doors.

Shera pulled the edge of her bottom lip between her teeth, and diverged from her path to the fitting partitions to the almost overwhelming section of displays. "For couples." She mouthed the segment labeling. Unfortunately no, not for her, but she looked through it anyway. Interesting items, thoughtful 'inventions', and things she wouldn't have even assumed existed. Some toys were ridiculous, unreasonably sized, shaped, and colored.

Tactless product names made her snort. Shera shook her head with an amused smirk and placed the boxed, phallic object she had picked up back where she found it. The next package she selected, however, upturned her curiosity again. It was hot pink, had an aesthetically pleasing, somewhat realistic appearance, and was made from some sort of grade of body safe silicone. It was almost one hundred gil and came with a complementary kit of additional items. "Soft, comfortable, designer bunny for beginners..." Shera pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She finished reading the label carefully and tucked it under arm. She'd kick herself for her unorthodox splurging later. Maybe…

Now, what was she doing? Taking her pathetic hide to the "Fitting room…" Right, right.

II.

She was acting funny. Now, that wasn't saying much, considering that this was Shera, but Cid had a pretty good hunch that she was hiding something. For one, she came home late, and two, she came in through the back door. What the hell was up with her?

"Took you long enough! Where the fuck have you been? It don't take that long to run down to the warehouse, Shera!" Cid barked and smothered his whittled cigarette in a nearby ash tray. He had been waiting for her to come home, not because he was deeply concerned with what she was doing, but because he was so damn hungry, and the way she could fry up some rice was calling his name.

"I'm sorry, Sir." She was up the stairs and in her room before Cid could grumble out anything else. Now he was certain Shera was hiding something. Question was: was he in the mood to prod at it or not?

"I stopped at the corner store for some more food." She was back again a short moment later with a few less bags under her arms. "It's for my sweet tooth. You'll have to forgive me. You can have some if you'd like." Shera smiled a bit to alleviate the awkwardness she felt from the look Cid was giving her. Perceptive as always, she did stop by the corner store so she'd have some sort of probable excuse for being late. She placed her usual sweet tooth relievers away in the back of the raggedy kitchen fridge after taking them out of paper bags.

"I don't want none of yer' honey combs, or cherries, and you can keep the bears to yerself. You gonna cook?" The actual question was: what were you cooking? Because Cid already knew she was going to. Just another one of her tasks as his honorary slave.

"Yes, Sir. Did you have a taste for something specific?" Shera cleared her throat and moved to the sink to wash her hands.

"Yah, some fried rice with whatever else you make with it. " Cid's eyes burned holes into her back, but she was cooking and he really didn't feel like asking her what her problem was.

III.

The light from the television lit up the soft contours of Shera's face. She perched herself on the other end of the couch and contently watched whatever was on ahead of her. Her empty bowl from dinner was wedged between her thick thighs, and a crumpled wrapper was clutched in her left palm.

Cid wasn't paying too much attention to the news. He plopped down after removing his scarf and jacket; taking up much of the space left on the patchy furniture. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, and cracked open a tall can of cold beer after settling. On any other night, he would have attempted to ignore Shera, but she was just so…weird. After bringing in all those damn sweets, she dug out the ice cream they already had in the fridge for dessert.

He side eyed her and debated prodding at what his assistant's deal was again. Not noticing the Captain's squint, Shera contently sucked on the colorful top of a Popsicle Rocket. She pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, and absently wagged her bare foot. The cold treat gently glided. She popped it from her mouth, and licked the dye and flavoring from the corners of her full lips with the tip of a soft tongue. Cid's eyes zipped away when he realized what he was thinking.

IV.

Shera ran a comb through her dampened strands of auburn hair. She folded her legs under her and the springs in her warn out twin bed protested under her movements. Her room, cramped and tiny, was gently filled with the soft crunch of her working out the tangles in her ends. The dimming of the evening raided her personal space of light, and Shera paused her grooming to click on a rusted, yellowed lamp.

Placing her comb down, she tossed the towel she had used after her bath into a hamper, and retrieved her glasses from the top of a low cabinet. She could faintly hear Cid passing her room after climbing up the stairs, and getting ready to retire in his bedroom down the hall. Like most nights, he'd probably smoke a cigarette, finish up his last calls, and his snoring would be heard not too long later. Shera sighed at the thought of their routine, and then sighed again while glancing around her small bedroom. Hazel eyes stopped to stare at the plain, non-informative black bags in her trashcan. Her sight slowly crept from there, to her closet.

Very quietly, Shera slunk from where she sat and crossed the scraggy floor rug to the partially open storage door. It was silly of her to check on something she knew hadn't moved since she put it there. Maybe, she had the urge to try it on again (surprisingly, the nightwear suited her quite well), even though she had earlier. Another sigh. Her new baby doll was so very pretty. But what in the world was she thinking? "It's not like I have anyone to show this to." Shera mused while grazing the pads of her fingers over the smooth texture of the bright blue lace.

No boyfriend. No lover. She wasn't bold enough (or crazy) to wear it around the house and Shera was far too mindful of any probable predicaments to even put it on now. Yes, Cid was asleep and she was alone in her room, but what about later? The Captain went to bed early, and woke up earlier. Meaning, he'd be up and banging on her door for breakfast at the crack o' dawn. And banging on her door wasn't an actual thing that Cid did. Normally, he just walked right in without warning, and expected her to hop up and head down the stairs to do his bidding. Shera cringed at the hypothetical embarrassment. No, no, no. Let's not take any risks.

Contemplating the lingerie one last time, she pushed it further back in the corner of her closet, re-arranged some of the black shorts she had purchased with it, and closed the storage door. Shera checked the time on her bedside clock and figured it was probably time she got to bed. Drawing back the covers, she nudged the box containing her toy kit deeper under the box spring, and turned out the light.

V.

Flushed cheeks were puffed out in fatigue. Shera grunted into yanking an eroded tire from an axle. She rolled it off to the side with the others, and dusted rust and grime from her palms. The junk car in Cid's 'engineering room' (the garage) was there before she'd ever set foot in the Captain's home. What he dragged it in for initially, she'd never know. Out of a very curt list of things Cid didn't mind her messing with, this was one of them. On her days off, aside from fiddling with her small garden, tinkering over it kept her busy.

"That's enough for today." Shera decided and wiped sweat from her brow with her forearm. She'd been removing old parts since she got up this morning, and the garage wasn't the most well ventilated room in the house. The air that rushed in from the living room when she opened the door was refreshing, and the cold air that seeped out of the refrigerator when she opened it for something to drink was delicious. Shera was so narrowed on retrieving something water, that she didn't notice Cid at the table. She'd been scatterbrained lately.

His assistant was being a busy-body again. From today's conduct, she seemed to have snapped out of whatever odd behavior she was displaying last night. The Captain's keen, blue eyes followed the movement of her legs and waist around to the cabinet holding all the cups. Shera reached behind her to pull on one end of her spandex house shorts. They loudly snapped back in place over the round of her full ass. One of Cid's eyebrows arched high on his forehead; almost lodging behind the plastic frame of his working goggles. He suppressed the normal grunt he would have given Shera to notify her of his presence. Uncharacteristically, he didn't say a word.

VI.

"Oh!" Shera froze; doe eyed and self-conscious after noticing him there for the first time. "Captain…?" She had no idea he could manage to be unnoticeable.

"Since when'd you start wearin' shorts?"

"I just..." She paused to collect a non-suspicious answer "I got them. The other day. At...at the store." Shera clumsily rubbed the side of her neck. "I figured since it was going to be warm today. Do you not like them?"

That was an odd question to ask. Did he not like them? Cid wasn't actually sure how to answer that without bein' just a little creepy. He had to limit himself. He was being pretty damn disturbing to his assistant last night. Besides, if he said what he really thought, Shera would know he found her attractive. "What the fuck kinda question is that?"

VII.

A full day had passed in Rocket Town without much disturbance. Cid ventured out earlier in the evening to provide paid transportation, but returned later to food already on the table. He tossed his coat on the hook, yanked off his scarf, and nudged off his working boots on the matt before the front door. "Shera!" Cid called and she trotted down the stairs. She had just finished taking a shower; comb sticking out the side of her head.

"Yes, Sir?"

"You eat yet?!"

"No, Sir. I've been waiting for you."

"Bring yer thick ass in here, and fix me somethin', then." He was tired and irritated. More than usual.

Shera came into the kitchen as he directed, though her brows were furrowed. Cid's never called her that before.

VIII.

The Captain's blood was boiling. He seethed; butt of a cigarette clutched tightly between his grinding molars. Who the hell told this fat fuck he could just jiggle right on into his house like he owned the fucking place, and tell his assistant what to fucking do?

"Yeah yeah! You guys can fix it right on up, and get it moving can't you? I mean, I'd hire some certified mechanics to fix my car, but I figured why not get a good price from my pals here in Rocket! Hey, if you do a good job, I'll be sure to throw in a good word to the President." Palmer stuffed a cookie (he asked Shera if she would bake some…this morning?) from the stove top in his mouth and gazed out through the kitchen window to the rocket that loomed over the small town. It had tilted a bit more this year and Palmer was taking an entertained note of it.

Ah…" Shera wiped her glasses with a dampened napkin and lopsidedly smiled at Cid's porky…associate "Of course, I would be happy to if the Captain is unavailable. I'm sure we both have some automotive experience, but I've been previously certified to work with luxury brand vehicles." She explained while stepping around her red-faced housemate to remove her electric kettle's cord from a socket.

"Great, great, great! Say, how fast can you fix it?" Palmer took one, two, six more cookies. Crumbs fell to his tie.

"Depends on what's wrong with your car, but I would be happy to work on it at a decent price." Shera glanced to Cid. If he had horns, a nose ring, and if Palmer was wearing red, she was sure he'd be preparing to charge and butt him right out the house.

"Ah geeze, what a sweet, sweet lady you are! Say, got any milk for these cookies, Ms. Joules?" Palmer slyly chortled.

"Yes…One moment." Shera squinted. She turned in the direction of the fridge and bent over to reach for a pitcher of whole milk in the very back.

LOOK AT THIS ASSHOLE. Cid was fighting every urge in him to squeeze the air out of all five of his chins. He knew exactly what he was doing; taking a good gander at Shera's backside while she was distracted. It was hypocritical of him, yes, Cid knew, but not Palmer. Anyone but Palmer. Actually, fuck! No one.

He bit his tongue and kept himself from saying anything stupid. Palmer was their only hopeful connection back to ShinRa to refund the Space Program, and as much as Cid held things over her head, he did not own Shera's body. His current jealously meant a few, simple things he was in no way prepared to admit. Palmer wouldn't understand a damn thing, but he knew Shera to be very observant.

"Hey, Palmer." The Captain's nostrils were flared. Shera was reaching for a proper cup, and the fatass was still staring.

"Huh?" His previous boss mumbled over a full mouth.

"You like yer' eyes?"

"Wah?"

"I said, do you like your eyes?"

"I guess so? What'dya mean?"

"I mean you better train em' elsewhere if you wanna keep em' in your fucking head."

IX.

"Hey there, Cap'n." The scent of a different brand of cigarettes invaded Cid's nostrils. He squinted in the direction of who had called him. Oh no, it was this bitch again.

"What the fuck do you want?" Cid pushed his goggles higher up on his forehead and stuffed his gloved hands in his jacket pockets. He was waiting for Shera to come out of the corner store with the part she needed to fix Palmer's dumb car with.

The woman who had approached from the tavern across from the Rocket Town Inn took a drag off of her unnecessarily long cigarette holder and tapped to get rid of some of the ash she had created. "Just wanna chit-chat. You out with Ms. Joules?" Her voice was like sand paper on the side of a Cosmo Canyon cactus; gently shaved with the side of a rusted cheese grater.

"You wanna come over here and gossip to me, you old hag." Cid's brow twitched. "M' waitin on her to get out the store. Get lost."

"Chit-chat. Gossip. Same thing. Just a little interview for old time's sake? Sabrina down the lane was saying you must have got real lucky this week."

"What the fuck is that suppos'd to mean?" The people in this little shit hole had absolutely nothing to do with their time.

"Y'know," The town 'reporter' suggestively nudged Cid with her elbow "she saw Ms. Joules down at Sticky Strawberry with something cute on her arm. Thought she might have been cooking up a surprise for her dear old captain. We all know you two are pretty snug down near the launch pad. Want to tell me about it. I won't tell a soul."

"You'n I both know you're a liar." He had no idea what she was talking about. At all.

X.

An empty battery pack was tossed in the trash near Shera's bed. She had waited an extra hour after taking her evening shower to confirm that Cid was asleep. Ashamed at only herself, she twisted open the battery compartment of her 'bunny' and secured the power cells in their proper places. It had been almost a week since she bought the darn thing, and she had yet to try it out. Shera's tongue was pressed into the side of her cheek while reading over some of the instructions that came out of the bunny's box. It seemed simple enough; use, gently wash, repeat. Now, what did it sound like? She'd won a bullet once a few years ago at a bachelorette party. Shera didn't quite understand how something so small could be so obnoxiously loud and gave it away before she even considered using it.

Straining her ears for any changes in Cid's snoring, she bit her cheek and clicked the toy on. She could feel it steadily pulsing in her hand, but "Oh." It was almost silent. She clicked it off for the time being. Shera guessed that was a good thing. A little unsure of what she was going to feel at the toy's intended area of use, she laid back and grew comfortable. At the very least, Shera was no stranger to her own fingers and supposed she should probably warm up with that.

XI.

She dipped her head back in a soundless sigh. The soft, vibrating plastic was gingerly dragged between her lips and over a stiffened button of nerves. Shera pressed a secondary control to alternate the vibration to a vicious pattern. Her sigh turned into shallow pants, and she placed her free hand over her mouth to keep from being heard. Shera's neck and the creases of her joints grew hot; heart beat rushed. She pushed the precise curve of the toy inside and writhed at the sensation of being so pleasantly massaged. Toes curled in sweet agony, and her floor tightly clenched. Shera's panting turned into suppressed whimpers and she shuttered with the soft, unexpected gush of her orgasm.

She pinched the bridge of her nose for a long moment after. A pleasant haze faded from the corners of her glasses-less vision. Something dawned on her after cooling down to her senses. Shera might have been distracted, but she knew whose name she called when she finished. What a mess. Literally.

At any rate. She didn't regret her purchase.

XII.

"What the fuck you call me for last night?" He yawned long, loud, and wide like a king cat. The Captain lifted a hot mug of tea to his lips and sipped past the burn on his tongue. The loud scratching of the stubble that covered his chin mingled in the kitchen with the strained whirr of the fridge.

"Call you, Captain? I don't think I did?" Shera lied.

XIII.

Cid's question was straight out of the blue; completely random.

Shera was just finishing up the last repair to Palmer's car, and was washing up just in time to prepare something to eat for the evening.

"Stop movin' for a sec. Got something to ask ya." Cid blocked her from totally leaving the small bathroom in a corner downstairs. His expression was tense with suspicion. He fuckin' knew she was up to something. Cid was gonna figure out.

"Yes, Sir?" Shera dried her hands and awaited instructions. This was going to go horribly, wasn't it?

"The old, sand paper throat hag that runs the paper said you were in somethin' called the Sticky Strawberry?" It was as if the name robbed him of a bit of his masculinity. "What the fuck is she talkin' about? You got somethin' to tell me?!"

Her jaw slackened, eyebrows arched, hazel eyes widened, and a bit of color bleached from Shera's face. She had been dodging some close calls, but there was no getting out of it this time. Cid had her cornered. "Well…"

"Well, what?!"

"It's a…store."

"Don't you fuckin' beat around the bush with me, woman. What are you hidin?!"

"I," Shera stammered and broke into a cold sweat "I was just…it's very personal you probably don't want to know."

"If it involves me I wanna know. You know that broad with the cigarette holder keeps tabs on everyone." As much as Cid loved having his name at the center of attention, if the cigarette holder she-devil was going to write something he didn't want anything to do with it. Last time she said anything about Cid Highwind, she called him a fucking thief.

"Cid…I don't think she's going-"

"What the hell are you doing?! Out with it!"

"Fine!" Shera raised her voice for the first time in never. "Fine…" She was covering her face with her hands. It was to hide all the color that was rushing back to her face. "I'll show you."

XIV.

They both stood there; drenched in the viscously awkward silence between them. Shera held an occupied hanger on her forearm at the beginning of the living room, and Cid stared with a shocked expression stretching features.

"You wanted to know. So, now you know." Shera sharply exhaled through her nose and removed her glasses. She felt a little less humiliated if she couldn't properly see the look on his face.

"Why?" Would you go out and buy something like that? Was the rest of his question. Cid had no clue that Shera had the capacity to be mischievous. Wait?! Did she have a boyfriend? Please, don't let it be a secret boyfriend. "You got somebody you tryin't show it to?" He was attempting to keep the edge out of his voice, but he really had to know.

"No, Sir. I don't." Shera sighed. "I bought it on a whim."

"Sorry for botherin' you then." He gracelessly rubbed the base of his neck while eyeing the expensive orchestration of fabric. Cid wanted to suggest that she did have someone she could wear it for, but that was him being a tad too creepy again. He kept his suggestion to himself.

"Yer' shorts look nice on you."

Shera blinked. Her surprise was pleasant this time. "Thank you."

XV.

There was no way in hell that Shera was going to mention the toy. Ever.