So many men so many questions.
(Quot Homines Tot Sententiae)

Terence

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Cid mumbled profanities underneath his breathe as he steadily drove the van back to the estate. His eyes, set in a fixed scowl, were glued to the road.

"Stupid spiky haired...inconsiderate son of a...kill him..."

Cloud and Tifa sat together in the backseat and glanced at each other, trying there best not to laugh. Cid finally calmed down and leaned back in the driver's seat.

"So that new BMW you got blew up in the street?" Cid asked. "Mighty shame...it was a picture of beauty."

"I can get another," replied Cloud. "I'm just counting my stars that it wasn't the bloody 760 LI!"

"Was it Blue Lotus?"

Cloud groaned and slumped back into the seat.

"I'll take that as a yes," Cid continued. "Did you see...did you spot the guys who tried to hit you?"

"Yes...the Bectons."

Cid looked into the backseat and stared at Cloud in absolute surprise and then whooped.

"The Becton brothers...you got tangled with those guys again...that's rich...just like the good old days!"

While Cid continued hooting, Tifa stared a Cloud, questioning.

"I got caught up with them seven years," Cloud explained. "They were delivering a virus disc to North Korea... a black op/hit job for me...a general. They hated me because I killed one of their brothers."

"Whatcha do about them?" Cid said.

"I took care of them."

"And Tifa came along for the ride?"

Cid's tone of voice cam out nervous instead of playful. Cloud's eyes widened, as if he were stunned. He glanced through the car windows and began to whistle the funeral chant, pretending that he was deaf to Cid's question.

"Cloud?" Cid stammered. "She didn't fight 'em with you did she?"

Cloud continued to whistle.

"Don't mess with me, Cloud! Tell me she saw nothing!...I need to hear those words..."

Cloud gritted his teeth and scratched his head. He faced Tifa, trying to find support.

"How much did you see?" Cloud asked Tifa.

"I ran into two guys," Tifa said. "One guy accidently shot the other, and then he changed into...a girl...er...whatever he did..."

The van skidded to the side of the road with a screech. Cid's breathe became heavy and frantic, like an Olympic runner. Cloud knew that he was in for an earful.

"And she saw you shapeshift too, didn't she?!"

"No," Tifa corrected. "He just came waltzing up... looking like a girl...he blatantly told me who he was...I don't know...I'm too tired and sick to think anymore..."

Tifa rubbed her head in agony. Cid glared daggers at Cloud, who had begun whistle again.

"You stupid..."

"I wasn't like I had time to change back!" Cloud defended. "You know as well as I do that when I change into something else, I don't have the power to change back for twenty minutes! Ever think of that?! And besides, if I didn't show myself, Miss Lockhart would be dead right now!"

"So why did you let her come with you?!" Cid shouted.

"I'm not an idiot!" Cloud retorted. "I told her not to follow me, and she decided not to listen! I just happened to find her after the fact!"

Cid covered his forehead in anguish. He looked back at Tifa, but she had uncontrollably gone to sleep.

"Ah, heck," said Cid, resigned. "I guess we'll hafta wing it from now on...what's with her?"

"She got knocked around pretty badly...Jerald did it..."

Cloud affectionately brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Cid took notice of it.

"Figures," Cid whispered. "The only guy I know who would beat a girl around like that."

The van starting moving up the road once more.

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Tifa woke up to the pleasant feel of a soft, feather stuffed pillow. She stirred and opened her eyes, only to be attacked by throbbing pain.

"Tifa? You okay?"

Yuffie held her best friend's hand securely in hers. Tifa struggled to sit up in bed. Yuffie propped up the pillows, allowing Tifa to rest her back.

"Are you hurting too much?" asked Yuffie. "When they carried you in, you had bruises all over...even a cut or two."

"I didn't feel any pain before I passed out," Tifa said. "I must've been in shock."

Tifa looked at her arms and saw black and blue blotches all over her skin. She pressed a blotch, and it oozed with pain. She winced and slid her hand away, meeting the bandaged part of her arm.

"I'd better thank the person who took care of me," Tifa mumbled. "They did a good job."

Yuffie shook her head and giggled.

"You can't now," Yuffie teased. "He went on a little errand an hour ago...I didn't know Cloud had medical skills"

"Cloud?"

Tifa's mind flashed to the previous night.

"Yeah, Cloud went and fixed you up last night," said Yuffie. "Don't worry though...the maids and I changed your clothes. Reno tried 'help'...but Cloud went and slapped him in the face before literally throwing him out of the room! I wish you were awake to see it...but it's kind of strange that Reno couldn't fight back though..."

Tifa stared at the bedspread and frowned.

"What's wrong, Tifa. Did I say something wrong?"

"Did Cloud say when he'd be back?" asked Tifa. "I need to speak to him...about last night...Blue Lotus...but most of all, about himself."

"What happened last night anyhow?" Yuffie questioned. "It's not like you to get all busted up like this."

"I'll ...tell you later," Tifa answered. "If I can, that is. I'm starving right now!"

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Reno stared suspiciously at his "charge". Vincent, however, was chuckling at Reno's recent misfortune. Imagine...a high ranking assassin like Reno getting bonked by a civilian!

Cloud leaned on a counter, a distance from Reno and Vincent, and waited patiently for his usual purchase.

"Don't be so sore about," Vincent scolded. "You shouldn't have been doing what you were doing, so you got what you deserved!"

"That's not what bothers me," Reno shot back.

A tall, Cameroonian man came from the back storage room of the store, holding two, plump containers in his hand. As Cloud fished in his wallet, he began a casual conversation with the man, in fluent French.

"Interesting guy," Vincent said. " Mr. Strife, I mean."

"But don't you see it?" Reno inquired.

"Calm down, Reno," Vincent scolded. "You've been eyeing Cloud ever since last night...and it's your own fault that you didn't fight back or at least block that slap of his."

"It wasn't that I didn't fight back. I couldn't fight back at all! I've never felt such a terrible grip in my life."

Vincent was in revered silence.

"And his hand came up so fast that I didn't know what hit me," Reno continued. "It was almost as if I was put in slow motion or something."

"Now that you mention it," Vincent finally said. "I've noticed a few things too."

Vincent began to stare at Cloud as well.

"On cement or tile, he doesn't make a sound when he walks. His hands are well formed...especially around the thumbs. I don't care what anyone says...that does not come from dancing."

Reno became nervous. He knew exactly what Vincent was talking about.

"Y-You don't think that Cloud was a..."

"Whether that's true or not is none of our business," Vincent interrupted sharply. "We do what Shrinra tells us. Got it?"

Cloud had already glanced over and noticed that Vincent and Reno were talking amongst themselves. Lip reading was another one of his specialties.

"If everyone's going to find out," Cloud thought, "Why don't I just tell the whole world?!"

"Is something not to your satisfaction, monsieur?" the store owner asked.

"No," Cloud said, "you've done very well. Thanks again."

Cloud began to walk away when the store owner called him back.

"Yes?"

"Be careful young man," he said. "Walls may have ears, but they have eyes as well. I know that they are back in town."

Cloud made his way back towards the other two men, disturbed by the advice.

"Hey," Reno greeted. "Ya get what you want?"

The only answer Reno received was a cold "Let's go". Cloud's eyes had turned to ice.

"You'd think he wasn't the same person," Reno whispered to Vincent.

----------

The bright colored parrot fluttered and fussed on her perch from hunger. Mr. Gerald caressed the bird gently with his leather covered hands and fed it some almonds.

"Thank you!" it screeched. "Thank you!"

Gerald continued to dote on the parrot and tease it, even after his young son walked into the room.

"Hello, Raymond. Is there anything that Daddy can do for you?"

Raymond shook his head and watched as his father continued to play with his pet.

"Is my brother coming back soon?" Raymond asked innocently. "You said you'd get him back."

"He will only come back when he wants to," Gerald replied softly. "Daddy is having problems convincing him to come."

Raymond crossed his arms and pouted.

"Is it because he doesn't like us?"

"If he knew us," Gerald replied, "then I could probably tell you."

Gerald beckoned his son to come closer and put a small, leather glove on his hand. Gerald coaxed the parrot onto his hand and crouched down for Raymond to pet it. The parrot fluttered its wings, and Raymond laughed with glee.

Lucy made her way into the room and bowed her head out of politeness.

"I'm glad you came," Gerald said to her. "I need to ask you a question."

"I'll do my best to answer, sir."

Gerald did not immediately ask his question. Instead, he continued to play with the parrot, along with his son. Lucy brushed her black hair out of anxiousness.

"Sir?"

"A human is born when a man and a woman come together at the right time, is that not right?"

"Yes sir."

"What's that mean?" Raymond asked.

Gerald patted his son on the head and said that he would explain it later. He handed Raymond full custody of the bird, and Raymond walked over to a couch happily.

"Think about this for a moment, Miss Lucy. Hair is taken from a man and skin cells are taken from a woman. Through a long process, these samples are used to create a humanoid, in a baby form. During processing, it is enhanced, given certain abilities, and all the like. Supposedly, perfectly clean. Yet as this humanoid grows up, it feels emotions, has common sense, eats, learns, cries, thinks, and even gives affection to others. Can a being such as this ever be called human?"

"You speak of a controversy that has stirred in the underground scientific world for years," Lucy replied. "Even Shinra and Genova Corporations, who experiment as we do, ask themselves the same question. Many arguments have resulted from it."

"I'm asking you personally," Gerald snapped. "What do you believe?"

Lucy lowered her head in embarrassment.

"I don't... really know, sir," she answered. "I've never really thought about it before."

"You may leave then. Tell me after you thought about it for a while."

Lucy quickly walked out of the room in a hurry, rubbing her head nervously. Gerald sat down with his son and began to play with the parrot again.

"What do you believe, Daddy?" Raymond asked.

Gerald looked at the little boy in astonishment and then patted his head again.

"What I believe doesn't matter," he replied. "Do you understand enough...to figure out what you believe?"

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Ah...the sweet smell of conspiracy...

If you haven't noticed yet, I'm a little strange.