And here I am again. Not a lot of reviews on chapter one, but infinite thanks to those of you who did review. I adore you. Here we see a bit of the Yuffentine thread of this story, which I can feel is going to be much fun. I did end this on a sort of cliffhanger, but I don't think it's too bad. Hm, I don't really have much more to say for this chapter, so enjoy.

As always, tremendous love and thanks to Elise for reading over this and swooning with me at the sound of Gen's voice.

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"C'mon, Vince, where's your holiday spirit?" Yuffie whines, prodding him in the ribs. They have been in the department store for almost three hours and have so far only acquired a wreath and two boxes of fat multicolored lights.

"Back in my coffin," Vincent replies drily.

Yuffie frowns. "But you remembered to bring your sense of humor?"

An elegant shrug is her only response. She huffs and stalks off to the nearest aisle, which displays tree ornaments and festive dishware. A little ballerina ornament catches her eye. Yuffie has never been partial to dancing, but she acknowledges the skill and grace with which the dancers move. The painted girl also reminds her of Marlene, who is in her ninth year of ballet in Coral. Yuffie drops the ornament into the shopping cart.

Yuffie does manage to wheedle Vincent into selecting a few decorations: a wire-frame snowman for the lawn, a holly garland, and even the tree topper. He chooses a star, silver and encrusted with red and blue jewels. They are also shopping for gifts; Christmas is close and they have nothing to give to Tifa and Denzel. Yuffie considers a necklace, and they stop by the jewelry section. As she peruses the selections, her bright eyes catch onto a ring. It it slim and silver, etched with delicate patterns and set with the smallest ruby she has ever seen, flanked on either side by pearls.

An engagement ring.

She stills, her heart skipping a beat. She feels ridiculous, like some thirteen-year-old schoolgirl, but she can't help it. The sight of the ring and the knowledge of its purpose sets her spine to tingling. She and Vincent have been together for several years. She loves him, and he loves her just as fiercely, if not in a more outwardly mild way. But over the last few months, Yuffie has been thinking. This usually does not bode well for anyone, including Yuffie herself, but it is different this time. She thinks that she wants their relationship to grow.

She thinks she wants to marry him.

"Do you wish to buy her this ring?" Vincent asks, looking at her with his rich eyes. Her cheeks darken slightly when she realizes she has admired the ring for too long. She smiles awkwardly, deferring.

"No, I just thought it was pretty. You know how I am with shiny things." She shrugs it off, moves along to the next display case. Vincent is no fool, though, and knows that she is hiding something. He will not pry, however, being as private a man as he is. He knows from experience that to try to extract an answer from Yuffie will result in the irreparable mutilation of his person. All he has to do is wait; when she is ready, Yuffie will tell him whatever it is that she is keeping hidden.

While Yuffie talks to the sales associate, settling on a pair of pearl earrings, Vincent retreats into his own mind. Chaos being long gone, the other demons are quieter, little more than a murmur on the edge of his thoughts. He thinks about his years spent with Yuffie, both as friends and as lovers. She is a woman of extraordinary measure, and though he knows her inside and out, she never fails to surprise him.

There is something about the way she had admired the ring that he finds peculiar. Yuffie likes things that shine, yes, but never has she been so drawn to a specific object that was not materia. Then he recalls that the ring is an engagement ring. It floors him momentarily, and he wonders at the idea that Yuffie may be considering marriage. With him. Marriage with him. It leaves him breathless and starstruck and he is so relieved that he has had years to perfect his poker face.

Yuffie wants to marry me?

The idea that Yuffie wanted to get married at all was astounding, let alone that she wanted him to be the groom. Then, suddenly, it isn't so astounding. They are in love, Yuffie and he, and when people loved one another they bound themselves in matrimony. True, they weren't any ordinary couple, but the basic principles remained the same. Love changes people, even Yuffie, and she is no longer the impetuous teenager she once was. She is a woman, and she has nearly made up her mind.

But what about himself? Vincent knows exactly how he feels about her – she is the sun around which his universe revolves. She sharpens him, brings his qualities and quirks into near-painful clarity. She breathes life into him, keeps his blood hot and his heart racing. Without her, there is nothing to him. Without her, there is no Vincent Valentine. He would go to the End of the World for her, a trillion times over, if he thought it would make her so much as smile. He would lay down and die without a second's hesitation if he thought it would spare her life. There is no question, no shadowy doubt that he is devoted to her, wholly.

He has always intended to spend the rest of his life with her, but he suddenly wants to make that official. He knows that ceremonies like this are mostly for the family and friends, but surely there is something in it for the two who are in love. Something that displays their love to the world and sets it in stone for eternity. Vincent now desperately wants that something, and knowing that Yuffie wants it as well makes his jaded heart contract.

When Yuffie has gotten everything she wants from this store, she drags him through the checkout and out into the parking lot where their car waits. She is chattering two miles a minute as they load their bags into the trunk, her earlier discomfort forgotten for the moment. She slides into the passenger seat, still talking, and Vincent buttons up his coat before climbing into the driver's seat.

With Yuffie's voice as music in the background, Vincent thinks about the engagement ring. He thinks about that something, about the eternity set in stone. He imagines Yuffie in white, or maybe purple because she hates to be traditional. He thinks about so much and imagines so many things that he gets distracted and barely manages to avoid driving into the opposite lane. (Fortunately, Yuffie does not notice this).

Vincent's mind is made up. He will buy the ring and he will marry her. Their love will be set in stone for the world to see, and they will have that something.

They will have eternity.

Sitting in Angeal's homely apartment across town, Genesis lets his tea grow cold on the table in front of him. He is thinking too much to drink it.

"Are you just going to waste that tea?" Sephiroth asks, watching him with mild curiosity.

"I can't drink it right now."

Sephiroth nods, accepting the answer. But Angeal, who has been trying to get Genesis to talk for the last quarter of an hour, frowns. "Are you going to tell us what's wrong, then?"

Genesis sighs. He can't hold it in any longer. "I have come to an important realization, and I do not know what to do."

"Genesis Rhapsodos, admitting uncertainty?" Sephiroth's eyebrows raise in mock astonishment. Genesis prepares a sharp retort, but Angeal interferes. "Don't antagonize him, Seph. Now, Gen, what is this realization?"

Here, Genesis grows so uncomfortable that even Sephiroth withholds his next teasing remark. "I... I am in love with Tifa."

There is a moment of silence, broken by Sephiroth. "I could have told you that, friend."

Genesis scoffs. "Well, you might have mentioned this to me earlier. It would have made things so much easier."

Angeal smiles. "It's more like, we had speculations. We didn't know for sure if you were in love, but to hear that you are is wonderful. Congratulations."

Genesis's lips quirk some. "Thank you. Don't congratulate me yet, though."

"Yes, he hasn't actually got the lady," Sephiroth says. "Though, from what I gather by observing the two of you, I'd say you have an excellent chance of doing so."

"What do you mean?"

"There is an unusual way the two of you behave around one another. If one of you moves a certain way, the other moves accordingly. It's almost like the two of you have your own solar system, but only orbit each other. It's quite a thing to see."

Genesis absorbs this. "You have tea with her on Sundays. Does she mention me at all?"

Sephiroth smirks. "All the time. She complains that you never come to visit her, and when you do, you eat all of her food." Genesis pouts, but the General adds, "But there is an undeniable fondness in her voice when she speaks your name."

Thinking of his name on Tifa's lips, in light of the discovery of his feelings for her, sends a delicious chill up his spine. "It is heartening to know that my odds are fair."

"To say the least," Angeal chuckles, taking a sip of his own tea. "What do you need our help with?"

"I'm not sure." Genesis rakes a hand through his already mussed hair. "I need advice. I've never felt this way about someone else. I've been attracted to women, of course, but with Tifa it isn't just an attraction. What do I do?"

Angeal scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Though it has always been a desire of mine, I have never fallen truly in love with another person. I am as inexperienced as you."

"I would say to be honest," Sephiroth interjects, eying him coolly. "Tell her how you feel. After that, it will be up to her."

"But how would I tell her? Should I set up a romantic dinner and woo her by candlelight? Or just blurt it out when we happen to see each other next?" If he keeps frowning like this he'll likely get a permanent crease between his brows, he thinks.

"I suppose you could try one or the other." Sephiroth is back to dry humor.

"Or maybe a bit of both." Angeal leans forward, suddenly intent. His eyes gleam with an idea. "Nothing so elaborate as a candlelit dinner, but perhaps a gift. You still need a Christmas gift for her, yes? Well, get her alone and give her the present, then tell her you love her."

"Do you really think that would work?" Genesis hates this uncertainty that has taken hold of him. He feels like a lesser man.

Angeal nods sagely. "I think it will work, because I know that you are sincere in your feelings. Tifa will see that sincerity."

"Besides," Sephiroth murmurs, more than a trace of sarcasm in his deep voice. "you are the Genesis Rhapsodos. Or have you forgotten? When has there ever been an obstacle you have not overcome? This one you face now is no different."

"It is worlds different, my friend." Genesis takes a breath. At Sephiroth's remark, the uncertainty has melted, shed away like the stray feathers from his wing. "But you are not wrong. I have never met an obstacle I could not best. I will confess, and, Goddess willing, she will accept."

"Now, there's the Genesis I know," Angeal laughs boisterously. "Would you care to finish that tea now?"

"Yes, I would, thanks." His spirits considerably heightened, tea sounds like just the ticket. Angeal pours him a fresh cup, he relishes the taste of ginseng on his tongue. "Thank you, my friends. I do not tell you often, but I would be lost without you."

"You'd be in purgatory, more like." Sephiroth snorts inelegantly.

"What he means to say it that we appreciate you as well." Angeal smiles into his tea. "So, what will you get Tifa for Christmas?"

"Oh, I have just the thing for her. Profession of my undying love aside, she'll go mad." Genesis grins. But his confidence dims some when he remembers what acquiring the gift will entail. "There is a problem, however."

Sephiroth quirks a slim brow. Angeal frowns slightly. "What is that?"

"To get the gift, I'll have to face my parents."

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