Disclaimer: I own not.

Ok, the sequel arrives, please enjoy, a longer A/N at the bottom. please excuse the ba grammar and spelling.

Vincent Valentine: lover

Chapter 1

Vincent Valentine was a man of contradictions. The first of many being that he considered himself a man, when it was clear he was one no longer. His past had been stripped from him. He had clung to the last name he had ever heard, and the situation surrounding it, and through the years he had held onto it. But that name only brought sad memories, dark thoughts and tears. There were other memories, of blonde hair, blue eyes and smiles that spoke of happiness and joy, and love. But names were lost to him now.

He wished they weren't.

He clung to his hate of Hojo, citing Lucretia as his cause, but he knew it was a lie. He hated Hojo because he had taken from him that gold and blue paradise.

It was these memories that made his red eyes track Cid Highwind. Or, if it were not, he would use them as a convenient excuse if the matter came up. Cid was alike a whirlwind, and had wormed his way past Vincent's barriers with incredible ease. It reminded him of someone else, the other person he could not put a name too.

"Yer staring Vince." Cid said, startling him from his thoughts, taking a long drag of his cigarette before settling back and meeting Vincent's eyes.

Vincent did not blush. "I apologise Highwind." He responded.

Cid rolled his eyes. "What's bothering ya?" he asked.

They were alone around the fire; everyone else had retired to bed hours ago.

"I was merely trying to recall some things from before my time in the coffin." Vincent admitted, holding the blue gaze, once again struck by how similar they were to those in his memory.

"Must suck not to know everything." Cid nodded. "Did you have family or anything?" he asked.

Vincent shrugged, his cloak shifting a little with the movement. "Not that I can recall. In truth, all I do remember clearly is Lucretia and Hojo." They were both silent for a long time, before Vincent found himself asking, much to his surprise. "What about you Highwind?"

"Me?" Cid's face twisted into a contemplative look, his hand reaching up to touch the ever present goggles. "Family? Well, there was me mum. She died about ten years back now, my Aunt May, whose still alive ad kicking to this day over in Junon."

"No father?" Vincent found himself asking.

Cid grimaced. "Did have one—right bastard. He beat mum and me p till I was two. Then we got away. Man who helped us was called Vincent too." Cid fell silent for a moment before shrugging dismissively. "Suppose that's why I don't call you Vincent too often."

"Bad memories?" Vincent asked, curious now.

Cid gave a crooked smiled and shook his head.

That was all that was said that night.

*x*

Vincent dreamed of blue and gold, and for the first time in such a long time of dreaming it, the colours became a woman and her child, smiling and looking at him. He felt warm as he looked at them, and for that night he was content.

*x*

The next time Vincent found himself watching Cid he wondered why only Cid reminded him of that Gold and blue paradise, and not cloud. After all, Cloud was blonder haired and blue eyes, perhaps even more vibrant that Cid in colour.

But not in personality.

That, Vincent eventually decided, was the difference. Cid reminded him of that time he had forgotten because he had the same energy Vincent got flashes of.

They were again the last ones up that night, and this time it was Vincent who started the conversation, curious to discover just what had made Cid into the dynamic man he was now. "Tell me about your mother." He asked.

He had surprised Cid a little, but not nearly as much as he would have surprised the others. He hated people asking about his past, because all he could remember clearly was the pain, the brief flashes of blue and gold were not enough yet to counter it.

"Me mum?" Cid asked, his mouth twisting thoughtfully around his unlit cigarette. Vincent had noticed that the man didn't actually smoke them, so much as just have one there. "Well, she was a good sort."

Vincent was surprised at the surge of disappointment that washed through him when he thought Cid was going to stop there. Cid's eyes never left his face, and Vincent guessed he could see the feeling there. The other man gave a slight huff.

"She was sorta small, blonder hair, blue eyes. Real cheerful. She never let anything get her down. She was always laughing, or dreaming. We designed the Tiny Bronco together." Cid laughed softly at the memory. The way not a single curse passed his lips told Vincent just how much he respected his mother.

"You got your love of flying from her." He surprised himself by making it a statement and not a question.

Cid nodded. "Yeah, she always wanted to fly. Damned if she wasn't surprised when I showed up home with the Bronco built and airworthy. Got a right chewing out over it." He grinned. "Seems she's wanted to build it with me." He laughed then, remembering; Vincent was struck again by that happy, content memory with no name.

"You love her very much." He noted.

To his credit Cid didn't blush or bluster as Vincent had expected, just shrugged easily, taking the cigarette from his mouth and tucking it behind his ear. "Yeah, well, she's my mum."

"How did she die?"

Vincent could have slapped himself for his lack of tact when he saw the unguarded sadness cross Cid's face before it disappeared. He was expecting Cid to make some crude comment before stalking off to bed. Vincent would have done it, (replacing the crude with something cutting), if anyone had asked about Lucretia. But Cid did nether, just looked at him thoughtfully.

"She got sick, pneumonia, one winter. It was probably good that she passed on. Her lungs were never going to recover." Cid heaved a small sigh.

Not knowing why it was important to know, but finding he had to ask anyway, Vincent said. "What about the man who helped you? Did you keep in touch? What did he think?" he had sensed that the man had been important to Cid in some way from the way he had mentioned him when they had spoken before.

Cid shrugged. "He was long gone when mum passed."

"Dead?"

"As far as I know. He used to send us letters and come visit us in Junon. Disappeared before I was six. Mum always said it was a queer thing. He'd just quit his job and was going to come back and marry her. But he just never came back."

"Maybe he could cold feet." Vincent offered as an explanation, though for some reason he new it wasn't true.

Cid snorted, an almost laugh hidden in it. "Vincent? I don't think so. He was a lot of things, but once he gave his word he kept it. And he swore to mum that he'd be back, and that he'd marry her. Hell, I can remember just how much he loved her. Think I figured it out before he did though." Cid laughed then.

Vincent could almost clearly see a little blond haired blue eyed boy with a pair of oversized goggle on his head (envisioning him without them was somewhat difficult), staring up seriously at him (he supposed he put himself in place of Cid's Vincent for some reason unknown to him), telling him in no uncertain terms that he (Vincent) was in love with his Mama, and that meant they had to get married.

Vincent was surprised by the vividness of this imagining and shook his head a little to clear it. "He just disappeared." He asked.

Cid nodded. "Yep, never heard from him again. So mum always reckoned he'd died. S'why I joined Shinra when I got old enough—well, part of it anyway."

"He worked for Shinra?" Vincent asked.

Cid nodded. "Yeah, never really found out which section. Forgot to ask." He laughed a little, but there was a little sadness there.

Vincent didn't continue the conversation, and neither did Cid.

*x*

That night Vincent dreamed of the blonde woman again and the laughing child she held. They seemed to come into sharper focus as they played, sometimes looking to him, beckoning him to join them. But he didn't, knowing it was just his mind conjuring up images based on Cid's stories, but he found himself longing for them, almost as if they were his.

When he woke, it was to a whispered name.

"Karen."

Ok, a few things. 1: Vincent was not put into the coffin until Cid was six, which means he was on there bout 26 years, the reason for this is because I keep getting mixed messages from wesites etc. that Vincent was in the coffin 23 years, 30 years etc. 2: This will be a slash story, if you don't ike that then don't read it. I did warn you that the sequel would be 'twisty'. 3: I apologise if Cid appears to be different, but hopefully he will be more like his old self in the coming chapters.

Please review, and I hope you enjoyed!