A/N: Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Novocain, and to all of you who read the prologue of this story and reviewed.

Chapter 1

i. spin

ii. fall

It was a bright and dandy night.

No, let me rephrase that.

It was an exceptionally dark - since there was almost no moon - yet dandy night. I had recently celebrated my nineteenth birthday, Cid had married Shera, Vincent was short one demon, Cloud had finally told Tifa that he was masturbating with a Photoshop picture of her in bikini briefs (in slightly different wording, but that was the underlying message, nyuk nyuk nyuk), and Marlene had mastered the courage to ask Barret what that boy in her class meant by playing 'hide the sausage'.

Come to think about it, I never found out what happened to that kid.

Anyway, we had all experienced a pleasant change in our lives. There was no visible threat that the sky would fall on our faces anytime soon, I had persuaded the Hairdressers' Union to declare that silver would be totally out that season, and most of us glanced at the future with hope in their eyes - or eye, in Nanaki's case.

We, and by that I surprisingly mean all of us, had decided that we were due to celebrate this massive turn of page somehow.

That is how I found myself on the beach of Costa Del Sol one moonless, cold night. Cue a bunch of toads croaking their larynxes out in the middle of nowhere and the whoosh whoosh of the waves as my soundtrack.

No wonder. It was genius Spike who had proposed that place for our special reunion slash party. He had said matter-of-factly that the place was secluded during winter and we'd have the entire beach to ourselves.

In the years that followed, I tried not to hate him for that. It could have happened anywhere.

"Oh, baby, yeah, just like that...for the life of fucking Gaia, Shera, don't ya dare stop dancing! Ooooh, woo hoo! Didn't know you could dance like that, sugar, you never do those tricks at home. Beer, anyone? ... Beer? ... I said does anybody want any FUCKING beer?" Plop. "Suckers, I'll drink it myself. Damn it, doesn't it taste good. You - don't you stop shaking that-"

I didn't hear the next part, although I can very well imagine it. Marlene had just wrapped her arms around my shoulders from behind, temporarily shutting off my respiration system. She was shouting in my ear in her lovely, girly voice that made you want to buy her tons of Barbies, but I couldn't hear her for the life of me. I shook her arms away and offered her a goofy smile as consolation. Reeve had brought along a super ass kicking portable stereo which I had had the pleasure of turning on about an hour and a half after we had gathered. I don't want to sound cocky or anything but it really gave a whole new dimension to our party. I don't think I've ever seen Tifa or Shera dance so much. Or drink so much. The point of this is that with the upbeat tone so loud and so close to my poor ears - I like to always sit in the front row, thank you very much, and if you think that's unhealthy, then you can go screw a trout for all I care - the chances of hearing the little girl had gone out shopping but gotten kidnapped and shipped over to Midgar as potential porn stars.

I coaxed myself into rising from the Buddha position I was in. My feet hit the ground once more, and ninety four gongs rang in my mind at the same time. I winced and cursed beer for being such a must at giant parties where adults lose control and sing the carols by the fire.

Cid must be tone deaf, by the way.

I tiptoed past Tifa, who was doing a wild dance for Cloud. To his credit, he didn't seem to be afraid at the savage-like shaking of the brunette's waist and legs. Or maybe he was in the state of semi-euphoria that alcohol brings you before you reacquaint yourself with the day's lunch and dinner. I, for one, left before she caught me and sacrificed my pure, virgin blood to an ale deity.

My nostrils flared open twice as I took in the multitude of smells around me. It smelled like roasted chicken - well, burnt roasted chicken, actually, because you can never trust Barret to cook - but also of salt and wet wood. It smelled of alcohol and sweat. Candy, too. My mind immediately issued an order to my body.

'Find Denzel. Steal candy.'

Ignoring my mind's protest when my body failed to comply, I dragged my feet near the bonfire. I found myself then in the company of none other than Vinnie the Pooh and Nanaki, guest starring in Thundercats.

I giggled dizzily and threw myself on a sprawled position on the hard ground again.

"Ow!" I wailed for no apparent - to everyone else - reason.

Vincent kept doodling on the chibi dunes around his rusty golden boots with a thin, wooden stick, totally ignoring me. I was so justified to make indecent thoughts about that stick and his butt, wasn't I?

I know.

At least my favorite furry friend seemed rather curious.

"What is it?" Nanaki asked me.

Finally, someone was worrying about my welfare!

"Nothing too serious," I replied, looking at the naughty bonfire pleasantly. "I just got sand all over my underwear and right now it's getting in really uncomfortable places."

Vincent sighed in silent indignation. He spared me the look that was reserved for when he thought I was being scandalously immature. Namely, it was the only look I had managed to get until then from my spooky, tall companion.

Then something happened. No, despair not, it had nothing to do with alien heads. An urge took over me. In my blissful haze and while motivated by the change of music to something very much alive and quirky, I decided to show them all exactly how grown-up I was with a dance that shall hold a special place in history.

Somewhere in the 'missing' section.

I straightened the rough denim shorts and the yellow T-shirt I had worn just for the occasion and put on my best 'show-off' face. I let my body sway lightly in the rhythm of the song as I put my hands in the air above my head, moving them slowly to the right and to the left. I enjoyed everyone's vacant expressions, and then, all of a sudden, I pushed myself right into the eye of the typhoon. I danced – fast-like and vividly and in all my klutzy grace. I moved like crazy, sozzled close to oblivion, in circles and squares around Vincent and on Reeve's lap. My thin lips were frozen in a content smile, and as I had a run-in with Tifa's watermelons in my lunatic display of energy, the roars of laughter, snickers, giggles and the faint smile from Vincent that ensued all absorbed me even deeper in the feast of swirling colors I was participating.

Three minutes later, I fell, exhausted and cackling like mad, on Cid.

"Cheers, you sorry excuse for a ninja."

"Cheers, you smoking bathroom mob."

"CHEERS, YOU MORONS!"

"Sit down, Marshmallow."

"Never liked ya, brat."

"See that? That's me sticking my tongue out to you. Hey, wanna sing?"

"You bet I do, yo!"

"Cid, wanna sing?"

"Damn right."

The three of us were morphed into one hideous, hugging monster. It is safe to say we were somewhat tipsy.

"Corel in March, we march, we march, we maaaaaaaaaaarch ahead-"

"Wutai, kingdom of bunnies, home of the suuuuuuuuuuuun-"

"I'm a rich man, can I grope your raaaaaaaaaaack?"

"Shuddup, old coot."

"We march AHEAAAAAAAAAAAAD-"

"Who did you call old, floorboard?"

"You. La la la laaaaaa, yay, Barret, keep it up!"

"That calls for sk- sha- spanking, kid. Hey, get your ass back over here! Arrrghh, ow, ai, STOP THAT!"

"Shovels proudly at haaaaaaaaaand..."

"Cid, I love ya, but you gotcha admit you're getting senile."

"Fuck you, brat, I'm the first astronaut on the entire planet-"

"Yes, the first senile astronaut. Now, put a carrot in your hole, either one, and come give me a hug."

"Sur- Oh, mother of fuck- bluuuuuurghughl!"

"Damn. Cid, that was my favorite T-shirt. Are you alright?"

"...Blurghuuuurg..."

"I'll take that as a no."

Barret's last note was a ridiculous falsetto. He had chunks all over his dear baby, the gun arm. In the meanwhile, I was trying to keep Cid from kissing the ground, feeling queasy at the sight of the beige mess. But Cid was in a the most worrying state of us all; disheveled, the leftovers of his semi-processed food trickling down his chin, and snickering hoarsely as he tried his best to regain balance. Questioning his future sanity after half of his braincells seemed to have been murdered, I managed to get him to stand. Throwing his arm over my shoulder and hollering at Barret to help me, because I was a tiny girl, after all, and Cid was a block of marble, we managed to distance ourselves from the noisy party. One by one, we climbed the steps. Cid's stubble was tickling my cheek and his breath smelled like dead dog, but I didn't have the heart to tell him. My breath probably smelled like drunk dog, so I guess we were even.

A few minutes later, we were at the truck. We put Mumbling Cid in the back seat, and before we had time to ponder what we should do next, Tifa appeared, jogging behind us. She looked glazed. I bet she was seeing me double.

"I'm not feeling very well..." she admitted dazedly.

"Ya'll have to go home too, girl!" piped up Barret.

I absently noted that his chocolate skin in the dark made him almost invisible, were it not for his eyes. And height. And weight. And clothes. And gun arm.

Whatever, it seemed like a fine observation at the time.

"But Barret, I'm not sure," she whined. "The others are still having fun..." A sigh escaped her lips and her pearl earrings dangled as she shook her head. "What a headache... I need a bed."

"No shit." I giggled at my own comment, hugging my skinny upper body to warm myself up. "Hey, Teefs, is that Reeve doing the salsa?" We both broke into hysterics.

"Ima gonna take you home. Get in the car!" Barret's voice thundered.

Choices. Seconds. Really, how many things can change with the flutter of a butterfly's wings?

I massaged my temples slowly. I wanted to go home too, but it wasn't fair to spoil Barret's fun.

"Naw, Big Man, you go strip tease with Cloud, Reeve, Nanaki and Shera. And Sin Man. You two'd make an awesomely scary couple, ya know? Anyway, I bet alcohol does shit for your system, and it ain't fun to go home that way. Just leave it to the ninja!" I winked at him.

Barret gave me a half-hearted look. He wasn't convinced. I spun around, smiling like an idiot.

"Ya sure you can handle it, brat?"

I made the victory sign and bounced on the heels of my leather boots.

"I'm a ninja, Marshmallow. I can handle anything!"

I was wrong in my earlier assumption. Barret must not have been unaffected by alcohol that night. He reluctantly turned his massive, broad shoulders and walked away, showering me his most fatherly look.

"Hooray!" I shouted into the air. I grabbed Tifa's hand and urged her towards the back seat as well, where she could take care of a now-very-pale Cid. Hold his head or some jazz like that. I wouldn't know, since everyone was usually looking after me and back then I wasn't on best terms with the meaning of being taken care of.

I don't remember well what was said next, from the moment when I plopped myself into the driving seat until it happened. I do remember, however, a fuzzy feeling as the world blurred around my vision and the rush of speed made me bite my lip with excitement until it was bleeding profusely.

I was in seventh heaven. I could hear a mix of things coming from the back seat, as my friends, my second family, growled and laughed and shouted and vomited at the same time.

During these few minutes I was content. There were no boundaries. There were no limits. There were endless possibilities. The world was mine.

Then came the abrupt crash that was neither a sound nor a feeling.

It was a state of being.

We were all injured in that car crash.

Cid was lucky; he broke his wrist as he tried to protect his head from being banged violently onto the back of my seat. Tifa was luckier; she lightly injured her foot - later, while trying to get through her grotesquely disfigured door.

And I, always the klutz, always the unlucky one, injured my spinal cord. At the neck.

That was eight years ago. Don't do the math - I have a thing about my age.