Chapter 2:
The rain continued to beat down on the Gunslinger's crimson-caped shoulders, the lightning casting his wraithlike shadow over the ground far below in the church courtyard. The clouds, more ominous than ever, swirled around above Edge, water falling from them like tears from the heavens themselves, coating everything below with a slick, soaking sheen.
Head raised, eyes closed, Vincent Valentine continued his ethereal conversation with Lucrecia in his mind, still fearing that this recent development was actually a figment of his imagination rather than reality. So long ago he had laid Cerberus and the Death Penalty at Lucrecia's shrine, swearing to never again to raise them in combat, swearing to end his silent self-punishment
All of Vincent's companions had known that the vampiric Gunslinger would never be able to stop torturing himself over his 'sins'; even Cloud had shown his quiet, almost unnoticeable skepticism when Shelke had told them all. True enough, now, only a year after the fall of Weiss and the Tsviets, Vincent found himself unable to push Lucrecia from his mind.
I'm just that special, huh?
The crimson eyes opened.
"Lucrecia…"
I'm sorry… where were we..?
"How we first met." He could hear her sigh.
So long ago…
"Indeed it was…"
Vincent..?
"Hmm?"
Do you ever… think back? Over everything that happened..?
Vincent sighed softly, his cloak flapping behind him as the wind toyed with the velvet, crimson material. His claw clenched and unclenched slowly, rhythmically, as if he was engaged in a silent battle of wills to regain control, his crimson eyes suddenly seeming tired and mourning. The Gunslinger's shoulders were slumped, as if the world itself was weighed upon his shoulders.
"Every day…" he whispered.
Vincent Valentine leaned against a wall as he watched the high-class Shinra employees and people intermingling and dancing in their luxurious dresses and tuxedos, always careful to keep one eye focused on that familiar honey-brown shade of hair, a glass of crimson wine in his hand. His other hand was at his side, hidden behind his body, resting on the handgrip of Quicksilver.
Lucrecia looked positively radiant. Dressed in an elegant black gown that had no trouble displaying her perfect form at all, she caught the eye of many of the ensemble, both male and female. Indeed, the crimson-eyed Turk had trouble keeping his own eye off her, but was contented with assuring himself that he watched her due to his job, and his job only. Vincent was brought out of his reverie with a pang of jealousy as he watched Lucrecia dance with another male Shinra employee; the Head of Bio-scientific Research, Hojo.
Mentally, Vincent rebuked himself for such thoughts. Jealousy had no abode within the Turk's heart; it was an emotion as foreign to him as the notion of possession. Indeed, Hojo himself was one of Valentine's superiors, who had requested a bodyguard for Dr. Crescent. For Vincent to put his own desires above his latest assignment, even if it was for a moment, was nothing short of inviting folly.
He forced his eyes away from his charge, albeit reluctantly, and stared out through the balcony opening at the stars, oblivious to the noise and movements of the hall's inhabitants, forcing himself to relax, ever uncomfortable in the smothering presence of so many people.
Vincent was a simple person; he didn't fuss over materialistic items, appearance, or any other sort of thing that many others did. He lived by his own code of morals, and lived a simple, standard life, or as standard a life as any hired assassin, mostly keeping to himself. He found it oddly amusing that his appearance and attitude scared off any would-be admirers or agitators, but cared little for it; he had no need for intruders, and even less for a relationship.
'Until now,' he muttered softly.
A timid, forced cough startled him out of his reverie to find Lucrecia peering at him with a hesitant smile.
"Are you alright? You haven't said anything to anyone all night."
Vincent gave a disgruntled sound as he sipped his wine.
"I've never had a thing for parties…" Lucrecia gave a sly grin. Vincent instantly focused all his attention on the woman in font of him; he didn't like that look at all. She grabbed his arm playfully, giving him a gentle tug.
"Dance with me, Vincent?"
The Turk stared.
"D-dance?"
"Yes, dance! I like this song." Lucrecia canted her head sideways, meeting his crimson eyes questioningly.
The Turk gave a strangled choke as he warily eyed the already-swaying couples before clearing his throat and trying to retain his cold, indifferent image. Lucrecia giggled; she had seen through the mask he had displayed soon after she had met him, and it was simply hilarious to watch the crimson-eyed man stutter for once.
"I don-I can't dance." His charge gave the same grin, and the Turk found himself blushing, to his dismay and shock.
"Liar. Hojo told me that all Turks have to learn how to dance formally as a part of their training, just in case they're put in a situation that demands such a skill to remain unnoticed." Vincent instantly cursed the male scientist with renewed vigor, shooting a vengeful glance at his target before returning his eyes to Lucrecia, who was looking at him triumphantly.
Crimson eyes glared.
Brown eyes defiantly stared straight back.
Before Vincent could even open his mouth to fire off a response, he found himself being dragged across the dance floor, his hand grasped firmly in Lucrecia's, who seemed to not pay attention to stares they were receiving. At the very center of the floor, she halted, and gently released his hand, looking imploringly into his eyes.
"Please, Vincent? Just one song."
The Turk looked positively murderous.
But, after noticing the looks directed at them, he inclined his head. Lucrecia smiled softly and snaked her arm around his neck as his arms stiffly found their positions on her waist and her free hand. Lucrecia gave him a smile of encouragement as she slowly began to sway and step to the voice of the woman singing.
Her bodyguard's only response was to glare at her. Playfully, she ignored him and commented lightly.
"See? It isn't so bad, now, is it?"
Vincent could feel himself beginning to sweat, despite the cool of the air-conditioned hall. 'Keep it cool, Valentine,' he told himself, 'It's just a dance.' More alarming than the dance however, was the feel of her smooth skin against his hand, exposed by the low opening on the back of her gown. The Turk slowly shook his head, both in answer to his partner's question, and in wonder as to how he had managed to end up in this situation.
Taking his unspoken response as encouragement, Lucrecia gently disengaged her hand from his and placed it around his neck as well. The Turk jumped slightly, before fixing her with another glare and hesitantly dropping the other hand to her waist. The brown-haired woman gave a soft laugh at her bodyguard's unease, undaunted by his glares. She fixed her eyes onto his and smiled.
"You know, you really ought to ease up a little, Vincent."
The Turk grunted.
"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. What did you say?" She heard him sigh.
"I don't… I don't usually have the time nor desire to indulge in such activities."
"Why not?" Her eyes looked up at him innocently. He found it hard to look away, but eventually forced himself to focus on her beautiful hair.
"I-I'm usually on a job, or training." The female scientist sighed.
"You're so different from him…"
Vincent met her gaze again. "Different from who?" She shook her head.
The Turk looked away, ever aware of the close contact that they maintained, extremely conscious of how her hands felt clasped behind his neck. Lucrecia remained mercifully silent for a moment, lost in her thoughts. A strand of her brown hair fell softly in front of her eyes, but before she could release Vincent to brush it back into place, her bodyguard had already brushed it aside gently. Startled, she looked at him, only to see his own eyes blink in confusion at the casualness of the contact between them that bordered on intimate.
With a start, Valentine noticed that the song had finished, and that he and Lucrecia had been swaying to the singing serenade of silence for several seconds. Reluctantly, although determined not to show it, he released her gently, backing away from her and inclining his head, his raven hair falling over his crimson eyes.
Lucrecia sighed quietly as she watched him turn and return to his corner, not before appropriating another glass of wine that matched the color of his unnatural eyes. Turning, she caught sight of Professor Gast, who smiled warmly and beckoned her over to where he sat with a wave of his hand. Smiling in kind, she joined him, accepting another glass of wine from a passing waiter. In companionable silence, the two eyed Vincent, who carefully watched the crowd with a casual eye.
"He is quite the dancer," her friend remarked.
"Yes; it's just a shame he's so… reserved."
Gast laughed. "You have a way of putting things very politely, Lucrecia. The two of you seem to be getting along quite well, despite his reluctance to acquiesce to the demands of 'higher society'." His voice grew less merry. "Does he know about what happened to Grimoire?" Lucrecia gave a slow shake of her head.
"I don't think Vincent really discovered the truth about his father's death. Apart from their appearances, they couldn't be more different!"
"How so?"
"Vincent's… very awkward, I suppose. He takes everything much too seriously, and, despite his reluctance to admit it, I think he puts on a mask to shield himself with, as if he's afraid that who he really is isn't enough."
"He certainly resembles Grimoire," her companion remarked dryly.
"Yes," she said softly, "He does in a way." As she stared at her bodyguard, she didn't notice Gast's sly but kindly smile.
"And he's quite the attractive young man."
"Yes, he is."
It took a full five seconds before Lucrecia realized what she had just said. Ignoring her friend's uproarious laughter, she blushed furiously and shoved him playfully.
"You should be ashamed, taking advantage of my drunken state!" Amidst his peals of laughter, Gast patted her on the shoulder affectionately.
"Ah, Lucrecia, you've just admitted that you're attracted-"
"I'm not attracted to him!" she hissed, conscious of various inquisitive gazes directed at her. Her companion gave a sage nod before rising and heading off into the crowd.
"Of course you aren't. Now," he said, catching Lucrecia's glare, "I believe I have some business to speak to Hojo about. I'll see you later!"
Her cheeks burning crimson, Lucrecia could do nothing but narrow her eyes at her chuckling friend.
Vincent snorted. He had heard every single word of the exchange between Gast and Lucrecia with barely any difficulty, his keen, sensitive ears fit to the task, and he shook his head at the playful immaturity of the Professor.
Lucrecia turned towards him with a nervous smile and a wave, to which he inclined his head and resumed his careful scrutiny of the party, searching for veiled possibilities of threats from within the crowd, taking another sip of his wine.
Already he berated himself for his lack of control over his expressions and nervousness for the little display back there. He was a bodyguard. A Turk. An assassin. A cold blooded killer.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lucrecia chatting animatedly to a fellow colleague, her hands gesturing dramatically to add effect to her words, and he gave a soft, genuine smile, one of the first in a long time. He had forgotten what it was like to feel flustered in another's presence.
Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to open up just a little…
