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When Vincent came to, it was very late. He rolled onto his knees and put his shirt on slowly- he was freezing, but too dizzy to move quickly. He felt like he'd been hit by a bus.

You were, Chaos drawled. A six foot three inch bus named Sephiroth. And you survived. Lucky you.

"How long was I out?"

Four hours. It's after midnight.

Vincent got unsteadily to his feet and headed for the door. He couldn't remember the last time he had honestly felt this bad. There had been times when he should have but something about what Hojo had done to him had kept him from feeling it. And there had been times when it had been close. But it had never been like this. There wasn't an external injury on him to account for it- only two small puncture wounds in his neck. That, and the way he couldn't get warm, a terrible feeling of weakness, and the fact that he was miserably thirsty. All classic signs of severe blood loss.

Are you really going to try and get back to Seventh Heaven?

"Where else can I go? I'm not spending the night on the floor of the church."

You can hardly walk.

"I have to."

Let me," Chaos sighed. I can put enough umph into you to get us both back safely. I'll let go as soon as you're back in your room. Deal?

"Deal," Vincent agreed, too tired to argue. He let go, falling back into his mind as Chaos surged forward, taking control but not taking shape.

"Sleep," he urged. "You need it."

Vincent mumbled a reply and did.

Chaos pulled Vincent's cloak tightly around his body and stepped out into the night. By now, the city was quiet- it was the middle of the week, and anyone with an ounce of sense would be asleep. There was no one to stop him as he headed for the bar.

-------------------------------------------

"There you are," Tifa murmured when Chaos stepped into the bar. "I was starting to worry, Vincent."

"Got caught up in something," Chaos said simply. Tifa finished drying the glass in her hand and went down to the end of the bar to intercept Chaos when he tried to get to the stairs.

"Are you alright?"

"I-"

"Cloud's still acting strange, says he's feeling sick, and now you walk in here in the middle of the night, looking like death warmed over…is something wrong?"

"It's just a bug going around," Chaos said quickly. "I fell asleep watching the water at the church, which is why I'm late."

Tifa nodded faintly, apparently satisfied with the answer. She reached out and touched Chaos' forehead, then pulled back.

"No fever," she said finally. "But you're almost as cold as Cloud. You should get to bed."

"I plan on it." Chaos moved past her and was on the stairs before Tifa spoke again.

"Did…did Aerith have anything to say? Did she help him?"

"There is little she can do at this point, but she promises to do what she can. Cloud will be alright."

"And you?"

"I'll be fine. Cloud…he has it worse than I do."

"Okay. Thank you, Vincent."

"Any time."

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Upstairs, Chaos collected Vincent's pajamas and went to the bathroom. Stripped, he examined the bruises on his back. Thankfully, they weren't shaped, so they could have been from anything. His chest needed to be cleaned and bandaged again- and that hurt, dammit- and the bite needed to be cleaned and covered. Satisfied that he was presentable, Chaos drank a couple of glasses of water to make up for the loss of fluids and went to bed.

"Hey," he whispered, prodding Vincent. "Wake up. You need to take over."

Hmmm?

"We're back. I cleaned us up and got us to bed. All you need to do is take over so I don't have to worry about it in the morning."

Vincent mumbled an affirmative and slipped past Chaos into his body again, settling into a comfortable position under the blankets with a sigh.

"Did Tifa catch us?" he asked.

Yes. I told her that Aerith is doing what she can, that we were late because we fell asleep watching the water at the church, and that we have the same bug as Cloud- though not as badly- which is why we looked so terrible when we came in. She's concerned, but not as panicked as she was earlier. For now, I think she'll be happy with just caring for Cloud and possibly us.

"Thank you."

Anything to save our skin.

"Even letting a vampire bite me."

Yes. Even that.

"He mentioned feeding off me again."

Like hell. Once was more than enough. If he tries it again, I'll forcefully take over and kill him.

"Can you?"

The only thing I can't kill is you. Go to sleep.

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"I take back what I said," Vincent groaned, sitting up slowly. "Now I feel like I've been hit by a bus. Or perhaps an airship."

Not surprising. You did have quite a bit of blood drained last night. And you lay out on a wood floor for a few hours, getting thoroughly chilled in the process. Which reminds me…there's something in here.

"Meaning?" Vincent asked, too tired to be worried.

I think you may have picked up a cold.

"Oh, that's just perfect. The last thing I need right now is a cold. Are you sure? I'm not feeling ill, just battered."

Trust me. You picked something up; it's just not showing yet.

"Nothing you can do about it, is there?"

No.

Muttering to himself, Vincent got up and went to shower. His chest was beginning to heal over, and the bite on his neck was healing nicely. The bruises…well, they were going to take awhile. That was normal. His bruises never healed at a decent rate.

Thoroughly scrubbed, he stepped out of the shower. Almost at once, he noted that the headache he'd attributed to blood loss and lack of sleep had not gone away with the shower, as he'd been expecting. It was still present and hurting.

I told you.

"Don't remind me."

Cloud ought to be safe today- I'm sure Tifa is keeping him home to take care of him. Since you'll both be in the house, you should take the time to rest. Life will be hard if you have to try and fend him off when you're not at your best.

"I hate it when you're right."

I'm on a roll, aren't I?

"Don't let it get to your head."

No worries. I don't have one.

Vincent shook his head and rummaged in the vanity, looking for painkillers. When he found them- at the back of the drawer, naturally- he took two and headed downstairs. Sick or not, he wanted to verify what Chaos had told Tifa the night before.

---------------------------------------------

"Oh, Vincent. I didn't expect to see you up so early!"

"You know I rarely sleep in, Tifa," Vincent said, taking a banana from the basket on the counter and peeling it absently.

"Yes, but I thought you weren't feeling well. Cloud's still out."

"That doesn't keep me from waking- it just keeps me from wanting to get up."

Tifa laughed.

"True. So…how are you feeling, anyway?"

"Functional. Warmer than last night." That was the constant in everything he remembered from the night before- cold.

"Good, good. Sit down, I'll have coffee ready in a minute."

"Thank you."

Tifa handed him a steaming mug and sat down across from Vincent, cupping her own mug in both hands.

"Did Aerith really say she can help?"

"She is unsure," Vincent said carefully. "But she promised to do what she can. In the very least, she can get information for us."

"It's not…dangerous, is it?"

"No. More of a nuisance than anything. And it is not contagious. One would have to go to great lengths to pick it up- you and the children are safe."

Tifa nodded faintly, sipping her coffee.

"You look worse than Cloud did last night. Are you sure you should be up and wandering around?"

Vincent winced. Of course a woman who was raising two children would know how to recognize signs of illness in people. She'd have to, to get around Denzel's faking.

"I have a cold," he admitted. "But I'm fine."

"Right. Not planning on going out today, were you?"

"Hmmm? No, not-why?"

"Because if you were, you should cancel your plans. You're staying here. Whatever is wrong with Cloud may not be a problem, like you said, but a cold is. The last thing I need is you getting worse, or giving it to the kids."

"Tifa, you-"

"Are the decision maker in this house."

She's got you whipped, Chaos snickered.

You be quiet.

"Alright. I'll stay here."

"Good."

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The first chance he got, Vincent retreated upstairs to have a look at Cloud. The blonde was, as Tifa had put it, out. He was sprawled across his bed, face buried in his pillow, not moving.

He'll sleep as late as he can. Vampires aren't nocturnal- not really anyway- but they like later times of day. Won't surprise me if he sleeps until this afternoon.

"That will worry Tifa."

Everything is going to worry her. How often is it that you or Cloud get sick? Hardly ever. And now you've both got something she doesn't understand, and you have a cold on top of it.

"Yes, but Cloud staying asleep all day is really going to bother her."

Nothing we can do about it. Go hide in your room before she comes looking for you.

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Vincent did just that, emerging only to get another cup of coffee, and managed to avoid detection until ten or so. Then Tifa came upstairs. He heard her go to Cloud first, then move quietly to his door.

"You can come in."

The door opened and Tifa leaned in around it.

"You heard me?"

"I've been waiting for you to come check on us since I left the table."

"You know me too well," Tifa chuckled.

"I watch you with the children."

"Mmhm. How are you feeling?"

There's no safe answer. You're screwed.

"Fine."

"You're talking so softly I can hardly hear you, Vincent. That isn't fine."

"It's just a sore throat. Nothing serious."

Tifa didn't reply- she was already up and heading out the door. Vincent dared to hope that she was going downstairs to attend to some chore that would keep her away from him. No such luck. She was back in minutes, carrying a bag of throat lozenges.

"Here. They'll help."

"I'll manage just f-"

"My house, my rules."

Vincent took the bag with a quiet thank you. Tifa left.

Somebody's cranky.

"Be quiet, or I'll force you out and you can sit here and feel miserable."

--------------------------------------------

"Are you sure it's just a cold?"

Yes. Why?

"Last I checked, an upset stomach is not a symptom of the common cold."

Don't ask me, I just know that there's a rhinovirus running around in here.

"I am asking you."

"Zinc, in these."

Vincent jumped and nearly fell off the windowsill. Sephiroth was sitting on the bed, reading the back of the throat lozenge bag, looking like he'd been there for some time.

"What are you doing here?" Vincent hissed, closing the window and jerking the curtains across it.

"Paying you a visit, of course. I began to wonder what had become of you when you weren't at the church this morning, waiting to see if the Cetra girl had any answers for you."

Vincent grabbed Cerberus and leveled it at Sephiroth.

"Get out of my room. Now."

"You know that won't do a thing to stop me. Put the gun down."

"You are not biting me again."

"Not yet, anyway. I took quite a bit last night, so you wouldn't be fit for dinner even if you weren't sick. I suppose sleeping in the church gave the virus a leg up?"

"Out."

"You need lessons in civilized conversation."

"From you? I doubt it."

"Ouch. Someone's cranky this afternoon."

Vincent sidled towards the door, ready to yank it open and run if he had to. Sephiroth watched him for a moment, then sighed and lay back on the bed, completely ignoring the gun that was now pointed at a rather important region of his body.

"You know, most people appreciate a well-wishing visitor when they're sick," he commented.

"I am not most people."

"No, you're not. Most people wouldn't be talking rationally at this point.I am dead, after all."

"I was too, for a time. Death makes no difference."

"It does when there's nothing you can do to me. Be reasonable. Put the gun down and have a seat. You look terrible."

"I can refuse to let you feed from me."

Sephiroth laughed at that. Laughed. Vincent scowled.

"You do that," he chuckled. "And then see if you can sleep at night, knowing that you turned me loose on a city of innocents. It's you or them, and you're so much sturdier than they are."

There was no arguing with that. Vincent lost all his fight. With a sigh, he put Cerberus on the dresser and sat down on the far corner of the bed.

"What did you say when you got here?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"I said it was the zinc in your cough drops."

"Zinc?"

"It has a bad habit of causing upset stomachs. Can have quite an impact on colds, so it's still used, but most people try to avoid it- the side effect is a common one."

"Why on earth do you know something like that?"

"It can react with Mako. I made a habit of knowing anything that could do that while I was alive. When I said sit down, I meant it. You're about to slide off the bed, Vincent. I'm not going to bite."

"Right."

"I've already told you why I won't. Besides, I just fed last night. I don't need blood every day, and certainly not twice in twenty-four hours, not when I had so much last night. Your pet demon didn't tell you that?"

"He isn't my pet," Vincent growled, scooting a bit further onto the bed. Sephiroth was right; he was in serious danger of sliding off the edge.

"You seem to have it tamed."

"We have…an agreement. Nothing more."

"Mmhm. And that's why you let it control you at times, and take its advice."

"Chaos is not an it."

"Oh, excuse me. You let him control you. You let him take over your body and walk about. Yet you can't handle me."

"I have no hold on you."

"Mmm…I suppose. But it bothers you, doesn't it? That you can't do a thing about me except be my food source."

Vincent didn't answer. Sephiroth shrugged and sat up, tossing the bag of lozenges onto the dresser. It skidded and nearly knocked Cerberus down.

"Watch where you're throwing things," Vincent said irritably, pulling his leg under his body.

"And here I thought you'd want to get those as far away from you as possible," Sephiroth chuckled. He moved further onto the bed. Vincent watched him warily, but he didn't seem to be up to anything, so he let it go. The instant he looked away, Sephiroth reached out, grabbed his shoulder, and yanked him down onto his back. Naturally, Vincent thrashed and fought, but Sephiroth just smiled at him and waited for him to give up.

"What now?" he asked.

"Nothing, really. I just want you fit for consumption, and all this stress isn't helping. You need to relax and rest."

"You're a doctor as well as a homicidal maniac? Let go of me."

"No. You need rest, and I need a nap."

"I am not sleeping with you," Vincent growled. He wondered if removing Sephiroth's arm with his claw would offer an opportunity to escape. It would probably heal with the same unnerving speed as the wound from the night before had, but would it be gone long enough for him to free himself?

"I never asked you to. Just sleep beside me."

"No."

"Be reasonable," Sephiroth said, rolling onto his side and giving Vincent a stern look, the kind that was usually reserved for misbehaving children and rebellious teenagers. "You're sick, and you're tired. That zinc has you feeling worse, you've got injuries that are healing, and you lost a considerable amount of blood to me last night. You need sleep. If you don't get it, I have no doubt that Cloud will be up and about long before you're fit to follow him, and who knows what trouble he might get into."

"Tifa will-"

"Tifa doesn't know what he is becoming. Sleep."

Vincent would later swear that he could feel darkness tugging at his consciousness, sleep beckoning to him invitingly. Suddenly he wanted to sleep, even if he was beside Sephiroth. He wanted it more than he could believe.

"You're in my head again," he said muzzily. "Stoppit."

"I have to put you to sleep somehow. You won't like the other option."

"Anything but you in my head."

Sephiroth's faint smile turned into a wicked grin.

"Very well, then. But remember that you gave me permission."

"Mmhm."

Still holding Vincent down with one hand, Sephiroth reached out and undid Vincent's shirt, easing it gently off his arms and tossing it out of the way. Absently, Vincent noted that Sephiroth seemed to have a thing for throwing clothes. Working quickly, Sephiroth undid Vincent's belt, removed it, and paused, hovering over him, considering tying his hands. After a moment, he tossed the belt in the same general direction as Vincent's shirt and started on the ex-Turk's pants. Getting them off took some maneuvering to keep his hand on Vincent's shoulder while the other one wrestled the tight garment off.

"Such tight clothes for lounging about the house all day," he muttered, shrugging his coat off one arm at a time. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were waiting around for someone special."

"Not really," Vincent said dreamily.

"Uh-huh." Sephiroth made quick work of his boots and gloves, let go of Vincent, straddled him, and let go of his mind. Vincent returned to full awareness with a jolt, knowing exactly what he'd gone and gotten himself into.

"If you ever do that again, you will never feed from me without getting a fight," he hissed, resisting the urge to buck Sephiroth off.

"Ooooh, such a threat," Sephiroth laughed. He bent and kissed Vincent, forcing his mouth open almost at once and giving him very little time to breathe or fight it. Vincent focused on breathing for a minute or two, then wondered if kissing back would make any difference. In the very least, he decided, it would get those fangs away from his lips for a moment. Threading his flesh hand through Sephiroth's hair, he yanked the former General against him, putting his own tongue to good use. Sephiroth went stiff with surprise, then relaxed, letting Vincent take charge for the time being.

While Vincent was preoccupied with kissing and breathing- and it was starting to feel disturbingly good again- Sephiroth's hands began roaming south, tracing the scars that turned Vincent's skin into a patchwork. Under his hands they became unfairly sensitive places, and Vincent squirmed, whining ineffectually into Sephiroth's mouth.

"You like it," Sephiroth teased when they broke apart for air. Or, rather, so Vincent could get air and Sephiroth could wait for him to do so.

"Do not," Vincent snapped, and yanked him back down.

A few rounds of kissing later, Sephiroth's hands slipped further south, tracing a long set of scars Vincent had given himself when he was first getting used to his clawed hand. The scars started just above his knee and stretched all the way up his thigh. Halfway down them, Sephiroth let his hand slip off the scars and between Vincent's legs. Taken by surprise, Vincent tried to throw Sephiroth off him.

"You knew this was coming," Sephiroth purred, drawing senseless spirals on the unbroken skin of Vincent's inner thigh. "The moment I said there was another option."

"Warn me," Vincent complained. "You can't just-nnh!"

"But I can 'just'. That's the beauty of power- I can do whatever I like without giving prior warning. It's a nice way to spend your death."

He fingered the band of Vincent's boxers, his nails just barely brushing the skin beneath, then tugged them down. He had to get off Vincent momentarily to get rid of the boxers completely, and took the time to take his own pants off. He wasn't wearing anything under them.

"Commando with leather?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You like pain, don't you?"

"Not in the slightest. I just like leather."

"Sadist."

"Mmm…call me something else. You turn such a nice color when you're angry."

"Bastard," Vincent spat.

"Just like that."

"Monster."

"A compliment, coming from you."

"Spoiled brat."

"Which makes you a cradle robber, doesn't it?"

Sephiroth's easy banter was distraction enough for him to prepare Vincent. A little more effort would be required to actually-

"Do you treat all your partners as if they were made of glass, or am I the exception?"

That was as good as an invitation, coming from Vincent. And it was all the encouragement Sephiroth needed.

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Vincent woke to find that his headache was back with a vengeance. He groaned and rolled onto his side, inadvertently pressing his face into what felt like skin and muscle.

Remembering what he had let Sephiroth do, he recoiled with a startled squeak, one that died halfway and turned into a painful cough.

"There's medicine on the nightstand," Sephiroth mumbled, gesturing at the other side of the bed. "Tifa brought it in."

"Tifa?" Vincent sputtered.

"Yes. Don't get so worked up, all she saw was you passed out in bed, clothes on the floor. No me, none of my clothes, and no evidence. Take the medicine and go back to sleep. I am not done with my nap."

Vincent weighed his options. A) Climb over Sephiroth and get the medicine. Go back to sleep. B) Climb over Sephiroth and get the medicine. Get his clothes and get out. C) and D) Get up, go around the bed, get the medicine, see A and B. E) Throw himself out the window and hope Sephiroth didn't anticipate it. He could handle getting caught naked outside if it meant getting away from the vampire in his bed.

"If you even think about going anywhere, I'll pin you down before I go back to sleep. Ifrit's fire, you'd think I was asking you to jump off a cliff. Take the medicine before I feed it to you."

Option A, then. Movingly slowly, Vincent climbed over Sephiroth and knelt on the mattress level with the night stand. Tifa had left a glass of water, a couple more of the throat lozenges of doom, and a bottle of multi-symptom cold medicine. Ignoring the lozenges, he poured a dose of the medicine- why on earth were they always such outlandish, unappetizing colors?- and tossed it back. Fighting the urge to gag, he followed it up with the water and dropped back onto the bed with a groan.

"Uck," he muttered. Sephiroth rolled onto his side and watched him.

"I'd have thought you would do that much more gracefully."

"Too bad." Vincent burrowed back under the blankets. In spite of his initial observation that everything about this vampire mess was cold, it was quite warm under the blankets. Much warmer than one body could make it. A casual touch confirmed it: Sephiroth was warm as any living human, almost fever hot with sleep.

"I do produce body heat when I've fed enough," Sephiroth said drowsily, throwing an arm over Vincent. "No need to be surprised about it."

"Who said I was?"

"Stubborn, aren't you?"

"Keep making noise and I'm throwing you out of the room."

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When he finally woke up for real, it was fully dark out and Sephiroth was gone.