Alright, so. ForTheLoveOfTigerLilies wanted to know what Yuffie's been doin', and I hadn't really thought of giving her some POV time, up until-well, right about now. So here it is, kinda short..but, you'll get the picture.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, Advent Children, or Dirge of Cerberus. I'm just a fangirl, really. So pleasepleaseplease, don't sue me for things I've never claimed to own.**

Rated M for the usual: swearing, suggestive-ness, Vince's unbelievable good-looks..

Love, supercookies, and an update if I get enough reviews!

She ripped the door open, let it bounce off her hip as a rush of cold nearly sent her back inside. But staying inside would mean staying with him.

And there was no way she could do that, not here, not now. Not ever, she thought at the same time his lyrical voice floated through the hazy air, told her that she'd fucked up his life. All the emphasis was on "fucked", like she'd always known it would be. And in a twisted sort of way, she always had known that that was what she'd do to him, in the end.

As she stormed out of Starbucks or whatever trendy coffeshop-bar she'd been in, she realized she didn't really have a clue as to where she was going. But the door, closed now, didn't put much distance between her and his voice, murmuring low into the microphone. It didn't put any distance between her and their memory, threatening to spill out of every corner she turned, every block she walked.

"Not enough distance on this godforsaken earth," She muttered darkly, dirt kicking up in her wake. Running felt good, numbed the midnight cityscape around her til she could almost forget where she was, why she was running away from it. But he danced in her mind's eye as she took sharp turns around empty corners, as she sprinted down a shady alleyway. His hair was still wicked long, the way she'd liked it. He'd tossed his head once or twice while he was singing, meaning to hypnotize the crowd with wine eyes. Quite literally, they were the color of wine, red, his favorite. She'd watched the dull house lights dance over his face, his skin. The dull blue glow made it look like he was a victim of hypothermia, or a drowning accident. But she knew that wasn't why he'd been shaking slightly, nearly undetected by normal eyes, by normal minds. It was all kind of dazzling, in a morbid way. It was all kind of morbid, in a dazzling way…

It's all 'cause a me, she thought as her own hands started shaking. They itched for chords, for the touch of calloused fingers running over her own as he taught her-

"Nothing," She said aloud. The trance had slipped a little now that there was more distance between them. So she screamed it in an attempt to prove that he had, in fact, taught her nothing. Which, was a lie. But she was rather good at that, it'd always been so easy to tell people what they wanted to hear.

"So I shouldn't believe a thing you say," He'd murmured with crossed arms, tight lips and closed eyes.

"You should," She insisted, moving to rest her forehead against his own. He knew she'd do it, moved back not a moment before she'd stepped forward.

"Vince," Her voice had dropped a couple octaves like it did when she wanted her way, when she was trying to convince him of something.

"You're ridiculous," He muttered to darkness, but even then, she could see him struggling to keep his eyes closed. Struggling to keep his hands off her.

"Vincent-"He couldn't help taking a deep breath at his name, one she so rarely used. It was always some absurd nickname that rolled off her tongue, but lately she'd used other words, meant to hurt.

The girl had managed to back him up against the kitchen counter, where he couldn't get away. She knew his anger would melt away in a second, knew it'd disappear as soon as she got close enough.

"You've gotta believe me," She breathed over his lips, hovering. He could feel her gaze lingering, there, could feel the heat between them and wondered if it'd screw up the thermostat again.

"But I don't," He said it as low as he could, lacing it with a bitter twinge of anger he didn't really feel anymore. She took him by the shoulders, smirked when she felt him shiver beneath her hands. This was gonna get interesting…in a sec.

"That's what you're saying but you don't really mean it," He could practically hear the smile as it spread across her face, ached to reach out and touch it, taste it-

"I do," He assured her from tight lips, trying to resist the urge to kiss her senseless, trying to resist the urge to slam her into the kitchen counter and do all the things she was doing to him.

"Then show me," She murmured in his ear as she danced away from the hand that'd reached out to touch her.

His eyes flickered open, settled on the angel in front of him. "Let's play hide and seek."

"And if I win?" Her lips pulled up in a smirk and his smile lit up the whole room, like the sun had finally broke through the clouds.

"You get whatever you want."

"And if you win, Vince?"

"Well, I get-"

"Me," She whispered through a sudden haze of tears. She couldn't tell the difference between that and the rain, as though the heavens cried when she did. It almost made her laugh.

Almost.

"I can't stand it," A voice in front of her made her jerk her head up, searching. It wasn't the one she wanted to hear, she knew that. It never was.

Cloud looked at her with sleepy eyes, the color of storm clouds, of cotton candy. He was drenched from head to toe and she couldn't help but think that he looked pretty good like that, leaning up against his bike.

"Can't stand what?" She asked with a laugh that sounded forced, even to her. She rubbed her shoulders to bring back the warmth in them but the rain wouldn't let up, wanted her cold.

"Seeing you like this," He said, running a hand through soaked blonde locks. And if she wanted, she could pretend they were black. And if she wanted, she could imagine that his eyes were that of wine, dark yet light at the same time. She knew it wasn't right to play that game, but it'd been going on for so long, now…

"Sorry," The lie slipped out between her teeth, came too easily. And if really was him, the him that haunted her dreams, her thoughts, her life, she wouldn't have said it so carelessly. She would've meant it. The men she brought back to her apartment were never the right one, could never compare to the nights she'd spent with why she let Cloud take her home, she didn't really know. Instinct, maybe.

Sudden, silent submission, she thought as they sped off through the streets, hushed with the drum of rain on asphalt. Numbing, calming.

She could fall for Cloud, if she wanted to. She could forget him, if she wanted to. If she tried. It'd almost be easy, getting lost in a new sound, different voice, lighter eyes, easier past. She could get used to the idea, but the thought of the fall was what scared her. No, scratch that, it was the thought of having no one there to pick up her shattered pieces.

"I will try to fix you..." His whisper was nearly lost in the rain. She had to lean forward to hear it, blink to clear her head of things that shouldn't have been there. Vincent.

"Coldplay," She knew it only because they'd played it at one of his first shows, one of their first dates.

"Very good, very good."

"You are," The words escaped her without any real conscious decision. It was easy. He was leaning against the building, now, sky-blue eyes staring intensely into her own. Why was it so easy?

"I-I mean, well, y'know," She was rambling, trying to rationalize why in the world everything was spinning, trying to rationalize why in the world nothing would stay still. But then Cloud was leaning closer to her and she was leaning closer to him and it made the spinning stop for just a second, just before they-

A soft shadow danced among the trees, distracted her just before their breathing became just a breath, something shared. She swore it looked like him, but everything did. She swore the shadow was shuddering, as though alive, rippling in pain.

But then they were kissing and there wasn't anything else. There weren't any shadows, any anything. It was gentle, asking for more but never taking too much, sweet but asking for nothing in return. They melted into it, and, as promised, he was trying to fix her. He would fix her.

"You deserve this much," He murmured, breaking away only when necessary, a hand still caught in her hair. "I'd give you everything, anything."

"One more kiss, then," Her voice was soo delicious...

...

"You were right, Vince," He said to the sleeping form on the couch. "She tastes like cherries with a hint of vanilla, maybe some champagne."

"But, y'know what's funny?"

What was funny was that Vincent wasn't sleeping at all; he'd been kept awake by the phantom's pain he'd finally let himself feel.

"She didn't even say your name last night, Valentine," The smirk in Cloud's voice was clear. Vincent's resolve was clearer.

He lunged for the blonde, clocking him in the face with a hundred times more force than when he'd hit the wall last night. The guy didn't even see it coming and Vince almost felt a twinge of remorse. Almost. But he reminded himself that this was the same guy who kissed his girl, the same guy who'd probably been doing so ever since she'd left. So he didn't stop swinging 'til Cloud's blood ran down his hands, til it coated his knuckles. The splash of crimson jolted him out of his rage-fueled-haze and he let his bassist fall away from bloodied hands. Fall he did, and Vincent watched with mute fascination, as the body didn't even make a sound.

And if he wasn't breathing, so be it. If his heart had stopped beating, there'd be nothing else to it. There'd be no ambulance, no paramedics. Because no one had called 911 for Valentine when he'd tried to drown himself in the wine, the drugs, the thought of leaving her behind.

A plan was unfurling before him, now, though. His eyes were empty, glassy to all who looked within. But he saw everything the way it was, the way people were. And he'd make it the way it should be, soon. He'd find a way to make her pay for the damage she'd done to his heart, soon.

But not soon enough, he thought darkly as he closed the door, left his best friend lying on the floor. Because hospital gauge, fix-it kits and all the band-aids in the world just weren't good enough, anymore. He wanted her.

And he'd get his way.

Yuffie: ...Why'd he do that?

Me: Why d'you think, Yuffie?

Yuffie: Cause he has anger management issues he still hasn't sorted out?

Me: Well...yeah, that's one way of looking at it.

Yuffie: So what's he gonna do now? Go to a friggin' shrink or somethin'?

Me: Oh, you'll see. *evil laugh* You'llll see...

Before I forget, the lame little line Cloud used on Yuffie isn't mine. **I don't own "Fix You" cause I'm not a part of Coldplay in any way. It's their song, not mine.**

If you want me to continue this story, you've gotta review or it's goin' right to the story-time graveyard: the Recycle Bin on my computer. (Oh no!)