CHAPTER THREE

Vincent sighed and lowered the gun. "Cid... what are you doing here?"

"Hunting for you, Val."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to." The blond man got to his feet and walked over to him, taking the gun out of his hand and laying it on the cot. "You're not all that easy to find, you know that? 'Course, we all thought you were back in that coffin."

"I don't want to sleep," was all Vincent offered in reply, not moving away from the door.

"Don't blame you. That coffin gives me the creeps, anyway."

Vincent's ruby eyes narrowed slightly. "When did you see it?"

"When I went looking for you, of course."

"Why were you looking for me?"

"Because I was bored." Cid reached out and gently tugged Vincent's long hair, getting an astonished look from the red eyes in return. "Come and sit down and talk to me."

Oh, no, he was not sitting next to Cid on that cot. For the first time he regretted the lack of chairs in his little house; he had no desire to get close to anyone and Cid had never made any secret of the fact that he had no real preference as to the gender of his sexual partner.

Then again, there was no way Cid would be interested in him; he had yet to scrape up the courage to look in a mirror, but the memories of Hojo's lab, with chemicals burning in his veins and acid dripping on his skin assured him that the reflection he saw would be less than attractive. All that pain and torture had to have left him horrendously scarred. He still remembered the scalpel biting into the flesh of his face as Hojo tested how long it took his body to heal small cuts...

Still, he didn't want to be so close to the man. Cid wasn't exactly unattractive and the sparkle of life in his blue eyes appealed to him strongly.

There was no way he was going to suffer through unrequited love again.

He pulled away from Cid's tugging hand. "We can sit outside."

"All right, Val, whatever you want."

"And stop calling me that."

"Why? I like it, it's cute."

Vincent sighed.

*

Cloud ducked into an alley, and pressed tight to the grimy wall. He counted to three, slowly, then took a quick peek.

"Damn!" he hissed, shrinking back before his pursuers could spot him.

What was Tifa doing here? And with Shera in tow - there was no mistaking Cid's little stalker, with her ponytail and glasses.

So what did he do, now? He had given up on trying to find Vincent on his own, and started following Cid, instead. The man had resources that weren't available to him - an entire network of information and friends that Cloud could only imagine. He was sure to find Vincent; Cloud had planned on just following along until he did.

Now it was getting complicated.

He'd seen the empty coffin. At first, he'd wondered if Cid had found Vincent in it and just carried him out, but then he'd noticed the spiderwebs still in the coffin's depths, and the fact that the lid was laying exactly as he'd left it when he'd freed Vincent the first time.

Vincent had never come back to that coffin.

Therefore, Tifa had lied to him.

Why?

Well, he wasn't going to wait around and ask. The girl had been driving him crazy over the last few days; for years she had rejected an attempt he made to gain her affections. Then Aeris had appeared in his life and he'd found someone who might someday be willing to stay with him.

But she had died...

And now suddenly Tifa was all over him, talking love and marriage and children while he blinked at her in stunned surprise. She'd always acted like he had a childish crush on her - which in retrospect he had realized that was exactly what it was - and told him to 'get over it.'

Now he had gotten over it, and she had done a complete about-face and acted like he was the love of her life.

Cloud just didn't understand women.

And he wasn't real sure he wanted to.

He needed to talk to Vincent. He had to talk to Vincent.

But first, he had to get out of this alley without those two seeing him.

*

Vincent had sat, rather stiffly, on the edge of the step and waited for Cid to start talking.

He waited...

...and waited.

Finally, "I thought you wanted to talk?"

Cid yawned from where he sat, sprawled all over the step, legs stretched out in front of him and one shoulder almost touching Vincent's side. "Nah, this is good. Kinda sleepy, ya know? Been hunting ya for a while."

"Why?"

"Toldja. Bored." Cid yawned again and stretched, deliberately brushing his hand against Vincent's thigh. The gunman started slightly and shifted away, so he'd definitely noticed the slight touch.

Cid grinned.

Vincent was a lot more fun than Shera.

"So..." Cid wasn't able to keep from talking, even as sleepy as he was getting. "Took a job watching over screwball tourists, huh? Good money?"

"Fair," Vincent said slowly, trying to accustom himself to the fact that Cid was making casual conversation. Whenever he'd spoken to the pilot before, it had always been about business, about what was needed for this trip or that battle. Short and to the point. He wasn't sure he understood the sudden drastic change, and was even less sure that he liked it.

"Like it?"

"Like what?"

"The job, Val."

"Not particularly." Why should he lie? The truth was that he found the tourists annoying on the rare occasions that he had to deal with them, and the guides talked of nothing but alcohol and gambling and which of the female tourists had the most attractive bodies.

Vincent had never cared much for such inane conversation and pursuits when he'd been a Turk; his tolerance for them now was pretty much nil.

"Good." Cid purred the word more than he spoke it, and shifted until he was practically laying on the broad stone step. The rays of the late afternoon sun were warm and soothing and Vincent found himself nodding slightly, too.

"So, you interested in changing careers?" The words came after several minutes of silence, drawled in a warm, rich tone.

"Hm?" Vincent's eyes had nearly closed and he didn't particularly care to struggle them back open.

"Used to be a pilot, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Could do that again. Need a courier pilot, for Tiny Bronco."

"I haven't flown in more than thirty years. You could as well ask a chocobo to ride a motorcycle."

Cid snorted with laughter, shifting and sitting up. "Brushing up wouldn't be that hard. C'mon, it'd be better than running around babysitting tourists, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe."

"So think it over." Cid shifted yet again, bringing his shoulder in contact with Vincent's - a warm and steady pressure. "Pay you better than what you're making here."

Vincent's sleepy brain suddenly processed the fact that Cid was offering him a job. Ruby eyes opened wide and he stared at the other man. "You can't be serious."

"Why not? Watched you for a while, know what kinda man you are."

"A freak who spends most of the time obsessing over the past?" Vincent's words were brutally honest; he had no illusions about himself.

"Naw. Good man in a tight spot." A strong hand reached up to brush back the strands of hair falling over Vincent's face, and he was too surprised to dodge away from it. "And nice to look at."

"Nice to..." Vincent trailed off, speechless.

"Real nice. Don't you ever look in mirrors?" Cid's fingers drifted down to touch Vincent's cheek briefly, then he pulled back his hand and got to his feet. He stretched, flexing his entire body, and Vincent watched, helpless to pull his eyes away. Cid noticed, of course, and didn't even try to hide his smirk. "Gotta head back to town; gotta room at some crappy inn. Know where that little place is, down the street from the airstrip? Forget its name..."

"Oaks Inn?"

"That's the one. I'll be there tonight; think it over and let me know in the morning, huh?" He glared at Vincent and shook his finger in warning. "And no running away. I'll just track you down again."

Vincent blinked at him.

Cid laughed and started back for town, strolling along like he didn't have a care in the world.

Vincent sat gazing after him, still rather stunned.

Nice to look at?!

Maybe he should brave the mirror, after all... if Hojo hadn't left him scarred and deformed, he wanted to know about it!

But... if he hadn't... what were all the stares about?

*

Cid was heading down the last block before reaching the end when a hard body slammed into his, arms wrapping around his shoulders. He reacted violently, of course, twisting and trying to slam his fists against his attacker.

"Cid - Cid! Stop! It's me, Cloud!" The young voice sounded panicked and Cid did stop trying to hit him.

"Cloud?! The hell are you doing?!"

The young man didn't let go of him. "You got a place to get out of sight? Quick, man, quick!"

Cloud didn't have to ask twice; Cid nearly tucked him under his arm and ran for the inn. If Cloud Strife was this worried about something, it had to be bad. His room was on the second floor and had an outside door. Cid unlocked it and shoved the younger man inside, following close on his heels.

Cloud went straight for the window, peeking around the edge of the blind. Cid followed him, just tall enough to peer over the top of his spiky hair.

His eyes widened as two pretty brunettes came dashing down the street, obviously searching for someone. They looked very intense, faces set with determination. The taller one stopped, put her hands on her hips, and glared around. She gestured for the other to head for the bar across the street, then she dove into one of the many gambling casinos.

Tifa and Shera...

They had joined forces!

He had been right. What Cloud was worried about was very bad, indeed...