Chapter 1: Friction

A moment of tangible silence passed in which she tried to process the information currently whizzing around in her already battered head.

Vincent was here?

But it wasn't the Vincent she knew, that was for sure. He appeared much more youthful, absolved of all the troubles the present Vincent carried with him. Were it not for those unmistakable eyes and that deep, soft voice, she wouldn't have linked the man stood before her to the Vincent she knew. Or knew little about at least.

"I said how did you know my name?" He repeated his question, taking on a more defensive stance.

"I…" She opened her mouth and then closed it again, unable to process a sentence that could put across all that she felt right at that moment. "I know you."

He looked around cautiously, before striding purposely forward and gripping her elbow, steering her firmly into an unoccupied room. He kicked the door closed, before crossing his arms across his navy suit. "We've never had the pleasure of meeting before, I am saddened to inform you. Perhaps you have me mistaken, Miss…"

"I'm Tifa! I know you!- you're Vincent Valentine, Ex-Turk, and a mean shot."

"Two of those things are true, though I'm not sure you have your information correct. I am still a Turk."

"But…" She paused, rubbing at the sore spot at the back of her cranium, as though it perhaps would solve her predicament. "What year is it?"

"Excuse me?"

"What fucking year is it, Vincent!" She grabbed him roughly by the front of his blazer. Perhaps his confusion at the question prevented a more adverse reaction, for he simply answered;

"It is 1961. May the 5th."

"Holy fuck…" Her knees seemed to turn to jelly for a moment, and her ability to stay upright became somewhat compromised. With a vacant expression, she slid to her knees, allowing her mussed curtain of hair to fall around her. "How can this be real?"

"I don't understand, um…. Tifa." His lips caught on the syllables of her name, clearly not familiar with its use.

"I think… I think I have travelled back in time," She stated somewhat vacantly, resisting the urge to giggle at the ludicrousness of it all.

"Perhaps we should take you to the Doctor. He might be able to help."

"Doctor?"

"I'm assuming he might have some idea as to what's wrong with you; Dr Hojo is very well respected in his field."

She was up and on her feet in an instant, her turbulent emotions finally broiling to the surface. "FOr one, there is nothing wrong with me!- and I will not be examined by that…. monster of a man!"

He stepped back defensively. "I'm not sure I follow you."

"This is… this is all wrong. I was just meant to be having some time to think… some time with myself…" She started to mumble, rubbing at her arms as though caught by a sudden chill. Unable to remain static, she crossed to the windows and gazed out over Nibelheim; still perfect, the real Nibelheim. She could see her house, though if the year was indeed correct, her parents were not yet living there. "This wasn't meant to happen…"

Vincent's former self approached her somewhat tentatively, perfect brows furrowed with concern and curiosity. "Perhaps a walk outside would… help? I can accompany you. You would get in trouble if you were discovered in here without an escort."

She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. "I suppose you're right."

Resigning herself for the moment, she allowed him to lead her to the front door of the mansion, which opened onto the then perfectly tended garden, with a neatly winding path. She chose to say nothing more until their seemingly random perambulations took them away from the mansion and the town-proper, and out into the outskirts. He finally stopped walking when underneath the shade of a beautiful blossom tree, not quite yet in bloom.

She threw herself down onto the grass, heaving a sigh that did little to alleviate the tension that was fixed within her muscles.

"What exactly do you have against Hojo, Tifa?"

Her head snapped up, amber eyes wrought with perplexion. Her mouth formed a thin line as she considered him, young and considerably naïve, in comparison to the Vincent of Avalanche. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Your future- What is going to happen to you, if you stay here in Nibelheim."

Dark lashes blinked before the ruby irises she had identified him by, though they lacked their mako glow. Slowly, he seated himself a considerate distance away beside her, his attention fully fixated upon her.

"My future?" He couldn't prevent the small cough of indignation.

"You… You haven't met Lucrecia yet?" She massaged her throat, which seemed to be threatening to close up in her distress. It felt strange saying her name aloud to him; she knew little about the woman, save only that Vincent had called her a beautiful lady, and that something had gone on between them. Exactly what their relationship entailed, she did not know. She knew very little about Vincent, now that she came to consider his past self before her.

"I… Dr Crescent is in the field I believe, collecting samples. She is due to arrive in town within the next few days. Why do you ask?"

No pained expression at the mention of her name; in fact nothing at all.

Vincent had not yet met Lucrecia.

He was not aware of the danger he was in.

"You have to get out of Nibelheim."

"Excuse me?" He blinked several times, coughing incredulously. "I have only just arrived to begin my assignment here. I cannot simply leave upon the request of a- a quick frankly- crazy woman who thinks she has time travelled!"

"Vincent, please." She sat up on her heels, clasping her hands before her. "I know it sounds crazy, and that you don't believe a word I'm saying. I wouldn't in your position, but… You have to trust me, for your sake, and for Lucrecia's."

He scoffed again, shaking his head as he got to his feet, dusting down his suit of grass. "I don't have time for this." He started to walk away from her, back toward town, and the mansion that would eventually become his self-inflicted prison.

"No! You don't understand! There's so much more to it, I- " She halted, suddenly staring down the barrel of Vincent's sleek ebony pistol.

"That's quite enough, Madam. I have a job to do, and I have been kind enough, considering the circumstances in which I found you." His dark hair partly obscured one side of his face, though she did not doubt that he would miss at this range.

"But-"

"If I see you near the mansion, I'm afraid I will have to report you to security, and they may use force to remove you."

She swallowed, her fear for her own life totally overridden by her concern for Vincent's fate. "You're making a huge mistake…"

"I'll say this only once; stay away. Consider yourself warned." He cocked his weapon, satisfied at seeing her flinch before reholstering it. He turned away from her once more, striding across the grass. She only then noted how the birds were singing, and how beautiful the day was. Whatever happened to pathetic fallacy?

She had to try again. There was no way she could let this happen! In order for him to even listen she had to do one thing. "How could I prove it to you?" She called after him, not moving from beneath the shade of the blossom tree. He half-pivoted on his heel, shielding his eyes from the sun, directly in his line of vision.

"You can't. Because it's not true."

He was probably right, in the first instance; for what did she know about Vincent that she could use to help him believe her? Nothing. Not a scrap of definitive information that could prove to him that she really did know him, or at least, a shadow of what he once was, the shadow that he would no doubt become, if she were to fail.

"I… I promise you, if you stay here, it will be the end of you. Or at least, your humanity."

He had started to walk away again, seeing himself victorious in their battle of logic. He only stalled briefly before muttering something to himself, and continuing on back toward the mansion.

Defeated and frustrated, Tifa was at loss. What was she to do? Surely this could not be real; she had been transported to the exact same spot in space, but 35 years into the past? How could this be possible.

The time materia; it had smashed into a thousand tiny glass shards, and the strange dust that remained had engulfed her. It had somehow caused this strange hiccup in the time-space continuum.

Her burst of spasmodic laughter was probably audible to Vincent, now already at the mansion gates, serving most likely to confirm her suspected madness. What the hell was she even thinking? Time-space continuum? She knew what Cid would have to say about that, and it was three words, two of which were 'what the'. Yet, it was the only explanation.

There was no way this was a dream.

The Vincent she had encountered had been real; A Vincent before the cape, and the triple-barrel shotgun. The Vincent who had not yet locked himself away for thirty years as a means of punishment for his self-proclaimed sins. A Vincent who had not yet even met the woman who would ultimately lead to his downfall, and his loss of humanity, by implanting his body with the being, Chaos.

A Vincent who hadn't fallen in love with someone else's girl, and tried to stop her from using her baby in an experiment which would eventually doom the planet.

Gods, her head was starting to hurt.

Setting off in no particular direction, she tried to make sense of it all. What was she going to do? Was she stuck here forever? Or was it just a temporary glitch? Would she be able to return back to her present?

Her wanderings brought her to the foyer of the old inn. Perhaps she could rent a room here for a couple of nights with the small wad of gil she had discovered in her pocket. She could use that time to think things over; perhaps find a way to make some more gil for the unforeseeable future. The future which was taking place in the past….

The female desk attendant gave her a warm smile, and inquired as to whether she would require a room.

"Um, yes. I only have this much gil though, so…" She unfurled the crumpled notes, tossing them down haphazardly on the counter. Surprisingly, the young clerk's eyes went wide.

"Certainly ma'am. How long would you be requiring room and board for?"

"Well, as long as I can get." She replied cautiously, unsure as to the origin of the attendants accommodating behaviour.

"We can only reserve a room for a maximum of two months, Ma'am. That's just 300gil." Tifa raised an eyebrow. She'd placed 1,200gil down on the counter.

"A room and board, you say?"

"Yes," The young girl replied, giving a polite bow of the head.

"That will be fine." She placed down 400. "Keep the change."

The clerk's mouth opened and closed several times, before she could eventually pass her the room key and articulate, "Thank you very much. The last room on the right, Ma'am."

She took the stairs two at a time, her mind racing ahead of her. The room was very comfortable, with the décor that might once have been considered outdated being new and luxurious. Locking the door behind her, she seated herself on the large bed of what must have been the best room in the hotel.

So it seems the economy isn't quite as prosperous as it would no doubt become. ShinRa involvement in any town seemed to send priced rocketing sooner or later. She let herself fall back against the sheets, staring up at the fancy ceiling, huffing out a slow, deliberate breath.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

And how on earth was she going to get Vincent to listen to her? And even if she ever did manage to get him out of this, he would never fully understand that hell she had saved him from.

Then there was the not-so-unimportant issue of Sephiroth, yet to be conceived, and the experiments that would alter him permanently, and lead to his mother's untimely death, and Vincent's final involvement in the whole affair.

With two months in town, she'd no doubt have a long time to think about it.

She felt that perhaps she would have to pay a certain Dr Crescent a visit in the near future. Shiva knows, she had to try and make someone believe her. She only hoped she would be able to deter the scientists' curiosity away from herself. She didn't quite fancy the idea of being a subject herself, even if it were in Vincent's best interests.

And from what she knew about Chaos, she might just succeed in getting Lucrecia's attention… and diverting it from her other projects.

Hell, that could work!

Maybe she could try her damndest to focus Vincent's attentions upon herself, by all means necessary should her other plan fail. Gods, if only he knew what sort of crap she was considering putting herself through, just for him. In the five years that she had known him, they had barely even held a conversation, with the most recent of those being the longest. She knew so little about him, she found herself wishing she had endeavoured to find out before now, when so much depended upon it.

All of this worry had placed extra tension on her already battered body. Thankfully though, she had her full-cure handy to take care of it; the plethora of cuts caused by the shattered materia were already starting to heal, courtesy of her enhanced healing efficiency. Stints in the life stream had to have their benefits, she supposed. Raising her arm above her, she readied herself to cast full-cure, the green glow starting to swirl about her and illuminate the shade of the room.

Then she noted the ringing in her ears again.

"Holy shit!" Then her vision began to blur once more, the colours and shapes in the room amalgamating into one, before everything turned black.

…. to be continued.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Shorter, snappier chapters will help the story flow better, I hope. Please leave me a review, it's been great hearing how excited time travel has made you lot. I hope it does not dissappoint.