Silencing the Chaos

Chapter 2

Yuffie tugged at her clothes. She had refused to wear long pants. Hated them; couldn't stand them. That meant she wore a skirt.

That decision was no better.

Vincent stood beside her as she fidgeted. He still did not like the plan. Too much could go wrong. Yuffie wasn't even properly armed.

"How are you feeling?" Vincent knew Yuffie spent most of the boat ride asleep in attempts to ward off her seasickness.

"Alright. Is my ass even covered in this skirt?" Yuffie twisted in order to see for herself. What she saw was the other passengers and sailors openly staring at her. "Only barely, huh?"

"It would seem so."

"Can't you check for me? It's not like you're checking me out, boss. It's inspection."

"It fits the way it was made."

Rolling her eyes, Yuffie left it alone and shaded her eyes as they docked. Their new home was a young, bustling town with an even livelier night life: Ebony. Yuffie, playing her role, instructed for their baggage to be loaded onto their car. She opened the back and allowed Vincent to step in.

Closing the door solidly, she glanced around before sliding into the driver seat. When Vincent inquired about driving, Yuffie had replied that carsickness was the one thing that didn't bother her if she was behind the wheel. The drive to their house did not take long. Reeve had given them funds to purchase the largest house on the hill. It was high up and looked down on the coastal city like a castle.

News spread like wildfire and there were scouts outside the house. And, of course, there were spies already inside their household.

Yuffie pulled up to the door and put the car into park. The entire staff came out to greet their new master.

"Master Lucian, your new household staff," Yuffie slid into her role, using the pseudonym chosen for the wealthy arms dealer, Lucian Travers.

"No names, Rose, I do not care," Vincent knew all of them, having read up on their files. He knew each name, birthday, blood type and, most importantly, who they were selling information to.

"Maids, servers, head chef, steward," Yuffie was a step behind Vincent, rattling off positions. They stopped at the top of the stairs.

"Sir," the steward spoke up. "I am Fitzroy, I am pleased—"

"Stop," Vincent held up a hand, silencing the older gentleman. He addressed the staff, "I am Lucian Travers. Do your work well, and we will never speak. Do not, and wish that you had. This is Rose Aoyama, respect her as you do me or suffer the consequences. Understand?"

"Yes, Master Lucian."

With that, Vincent swept into the house. Yuffie snapped her fingers and pointed to the car. Servants jumped to unload it.

"Tour, Fitzroy," Yuffie told the steward and they followed Vincent inside.

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Yuffie collapsed on Vincent's bed well after midnight. The rest of the staff left and Yuffie had finished sweeping the house for all kinds of listening devices. Thankfully, there were no video cameras, only microphones in the most discreet places. The only place clear of bugs was the broom closet on the first floor. There were twenty one bugs in total, one for each room for the three different underworld lords currently trying to feel out the strange newcomer.

"Master Luc, I have completed the task you asked of me," there was no way anyone would know that she was lying on her back, kicking her legs tiredly as Vincent stood by the window. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thank you," Vincent nodded to the folder on the table. Additional info from Reeve.

"Good night, Master Luc. Sleep well," Yuffie picked up the folder and left for her room downstairs.

Taking out the bugs from her room, Yuffie placed them in a lead lined box and locked it. She might be a thief and a nag, but she believed in eavesdropping with your own ears. Using bugs was too intrusive and lazy.

Peeling off her outfit, Yuffie left "Rose" and became herself again. She read the folder's contents after a quick shower. Their work was cut out for them. Reading it over again carefully, Yuffie lit it on fire and dumped the debris into an ash tray to flush away in the morning.

Checking her knives below her pillow, Yuffie fell asleep.

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"Master Luc," Yuffie entered Vincent's study the next night. "The car is ready."

"Everyone go home when you are done, Fitzroy," Vincent said as he stood to follow Yuffie. They were going to town.

People turned as the pair strolled down the streets. They drove partway into town, then went on foot to see the night life.

There was reason to stare, Vincent was the exact description of tall, dark and handsome. Yuffie tagged two dozen women's thoughts that went straight to the bedroom. Though, the ninja smiled when she thought of how many would have the same reaction if they saw Vincent Valentine, not the posh, polished Lucian Travers. With his hair brushed and pulled back into a low ponytail and a sharp suit, Vincent looked like he fit right in with the night life of Ebony.

As they strolled, Vincent felt eyes, not only on him, but a fair share on Yuffie as well. It was simple enough. She was young, beautiful and exotic, even in the ocean city, and she walked with a confidence that was a beacon of light. But, of course she was confident. She was Yuffie Kisaragi on a mission; equally, she was Rose Aoyama, right hand man to Lucian Travers.

They went into a restaurant. Yuffie went up and spoke with the hostess. They were seated right away. While Vincent picked their meal, Yuffie surveyed the area. Reports pegged the restaurant a favorite of James Rothsburg, one of the Overlords of the underworld. There was a high chance they would see him.

Vincent rumbled their order to a waiter and order their finest red wine.

"Master Luc, your doctor said to go easy on the beef, remember?" Yuffie chided the man across the table lightly. They had built a complete history of their characters. Vincent taught her what he learned as a Turk when creating a false identity. Details mattered.

"That is why I ordered the wine, Rose," Vincent squared a look at her. His character was mostly the same as Vincent, but less trigger happy.

The look of disgruntlement was nothing new for Vincent. They allowed for some similarities to stay between their characters, like Yuffie's defiance to his stoic ways and his general lack of retaliation to her. Yuffie was strained enough with her role. She actually had to act older, an idea she repulsed, since most of her life she strove to act immature. A counterbalance to her weight as heir to Wutai and all the related problems.

"You look tired," Vincent commented. He knew she was running around, trying to control spies, run his business and maintain his household.

"Not at all, Master Luc," she gave him a smile. It said, "thanks for worrying, but it's gonna take more than this to bring the Great Ninja Yuffie down."

"My mistake," Vincent looked to the second floor where a set of doors looked like they were important. But the food came before he could signal Yuffie.

Throughout the meal, Yuffie talked business, commenting on Rufus's advancements on solar energy and the contracts going between science groups. Mostly, it was knowledge anyone could find if they cared for the subject, but Yuffie was laying a trap. It would do no good to waltz into the underground ring on their own. Instead, they needed to be invited. Which meant doing some advertizing on who, and more importantly, what they were.

At the end of dinner, neither Vincent nor Yuffie managed to glimpse the Overlord and they left with a generous tip and the promise to be back.

"Are you alright to drive?" Vincent made Yuffie walk closer to him, but did not touch her. People were still watching. But now, with the later hour and higher intoxication rate, men were leering at Yuffie's long legs and short skirt.

"Me? I'm fine," she looked and sounded fine. "Master Luc, you seem to have forgotten, I grew up in Wutai. I was practically bottle fed alcohol."

It wasn't a lie. As princess, she drank from a young age for all sorts of ceremonies and parties.

"How is the car?" Vincent asked as they neared the sleek automobile.

"Clean. Surprisingly," Yuffie opened the door for him. "I thought for sure…"

"No matter," Vincent settled back as Yuffie turned over the engine. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine. You'll have to do business tomorrow. I'm reinterviewing the staff. Formalities and all that. Gotta show 'em who's top dog. Cuz it ain't that slickback jackass, Fitzroy," Yuffie slid back into her usual laidback, slightly crass, vocabulary. The man behind her let her do as she pleased. He was surprised that she hadn't slipped up yet. She purposely drove slowly so she could ramble. "…and why did Reeve think miniskirts were appropriate for my job position? It's like he's purposely trying to make me look like a hooker."

"Please, do not…"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. It's just that this kind of place, shouldn't I dress more conservatively to not make people think we're… you know…"

"I do not know."

"That we're doin' the nasty together. The only reason someone of my station wears a short skirt is either the boss likes it, or she's trying to get the boss to like it. See our problem?"

"Then you should have worn the pants."

"I can't!" Yuffie wailed. She hated pants. She wore them as a disguise, one SOLDIER, one sailor, in order to sneak onto the Shin-Ra boat years ago, but never before, nor after that.

"Then, persevere."

"Fiiiine," Yuffie bemoaned for a moment. "What if people ask about it?"

"How is Lucian Travers supposed to know what Rose Aoyama thinks; why she wears short skirts?"

"Ugh, you sure we shouldn't have made you into a psychologically manipulative mastermind?"

"We did. I just happen to sell weapons."

They pulled up to the empty house.

"What is on the schedule?"

Yuffie opened her leather bound booklet and read Vincent's activities for the following day.

"At two o'clock, you will be closing a deal with the local weapons shop."

"Very well. Go to bed. You have a busy day tomorrow," Vincent walked up the stairs and left Yuffie to lock up the front door.

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They were confronted the next day as they left the weapon shop.

"So, you're the newest hot shot in town, huh?" A flock of men in shades stood around a man leaning against his car.

Instinctively, Yuffie shifted into battle mode, but Vincent laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Lucian Travers. I just moved recently, if that is what you mean."

"Travers, huh?" The man was chewing on a toothpick and it rankled Yuffie's nerves. "Call me Phil. Everyone else does."

"What is your name?" Yuffie cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I just said—"

"That people call you 'Phil.'"

"Ah…she's sharp. I can see why you keep her," Phil looked Yuffie up and down, taking in her high buttoned shirt and miniskirt, short boots and jacket.

"Yes. Was there anything else we can help you with?" Vincent never lost his composure.

"Nope, just wanted to welcome you to our humble town," he nudged his head and one of his body guards went for his pocket; Yuffie readied a blade. "My card. My businesses are on the back. As you can see, I'm in the entertainment industry… of every imaginable kind."

The dark eyes followed Yuffie as she took the card from the henchman.

"Mr. Travers, I'm sure your adorable assistant needs her own time for amusement or pleasure. And I'm sure you are curious as well. So any time you visit, I would be more than happy to show you all the services my business can offer."

"Thank you for your offer. We will be sure to patron your businesses," Vincent let nothing on to Phil's poorly veiled innuendos toward Yuffie. "Rose."

"Yes, sir," Yuffie fell into step beside Vincent and unlocked their car. She revved the engine to make the sunglass wearing men jump.

"Stop that."

"Sure thing, boss man," Yuffie drove off.

"Does it not bother you?"

"What?" Yuffie sent a look in the rearview mirror.

"Phil's words."

"Oh, about me enjoying his businesses?" She saw his nod at her words.

"You don't know about the other missions I've done at the organization of you're asking that," Yuffie laughed.

"What missions?"

"Cabaret, strip club, maid café, dungeon; I've infiltrated all of them," Yuffie might have been innocent, but that does not mean she stayed ignorant. "The world's changing, boss man. Gotta keep up."

Vincent brooded in the background, silent.

"Does it bother you?" Yuffie asked.

"Should it?"

"No reason it should."

In truth, it did. And Vincent didn't like it. Not at all.