Chapter IV; Day 4

The Turk with the messy, crow-black hair and reddish brown eyes had a strenuous, first day at Shinra Manor. He'd awoken at six o'clock in the morning, from a nightmare, in which he'd been trapped in a coffin, shouting for help until his lungs were sore; he wasn't a fan of small spaces. From then on, he'd all but dragged himself through the day, walking the mansions perimeter and checking in and out of each room within, once an hour. He spent the rest of his time studiously, avoiding Hojo, in the safe haven that was Dr. Crescents laboratory, not entirely bored out of his mind. Morgan had taken a trip up to the mako reactor nestled amongst Mount Nibel, with the only other scientist in hiding, Professor Gast Faremis. Vincent hadn't met him yet, but apparently he seemed to be the complete opposite of Hojo. Needless to say, Vincent wasn't worried about meeting that particular scientist, though he was curious.

It was two in the afternoon now, and the Turk returned downstairs from his hourly, circuit. He took up his position once again, leaning against a wall, arms folded, watching Dr. Crescent in his peripheral vision. He found himself immediately distracted in the efficient, grace of her hands, the absent tilt to her head and the brown hair falling in waves, down her back, secured at the top by the same lemon, yellow ribbon, as always. He'd searched her face for the subtlest change throughout the day, after leaving her alone with Hojo the night before, but all he saw was fierce determination and flawless concentration; he doubted she even knew he was there. She was stood at her computer station, looking at the screen and tapping her chin in thought. Vincent hesitated only slightly, before moving to stand behind her, reading over her shoulder.

"What are you working on?" he asked, with the sudden impulse to be noticed. Dr. Crescent jumped and glanced back at him, blood rushing to her face. He was so close that his breath had stirred her hair and he backed up a step.

"Oh, it's just my thesis…" she said quickly, biting her lip and looking away from him.

"I can't understand a word of it," the black haired man attempted to joke, although it was true.

"Yes. Well, that's what I'm trying to fix," she replied, with a huff and sat down in her chair. Vincent smirked, hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his navy, suit trousers. "Have you eaten today, Mr. Valentine?" she asked rather randomly, as she eyed his slender frame.

"Have you?" he returned, raising an eyebrow. Dr. Crescent rolled her chocolate brown eyes and got back to her feet.

"I'm not the one who looks like I haven't eaten, nor slept, in the past ten days," her forehead creased as if she were actually concerned about him. "You should take better care of yourself…" she placed a hand on his arm for a moment, before continuing past, heading for a door. Vincent lingered briefly, unsure of both himself and of the scientist. She was acting like she knew him, after only one night and half a day. He couldn't work her out, though he was absolutely positive that there was something she wasn't saying. He followed her without a word, wondering how she'd become such a mystery. Perhaps a death- she had mentioned she'd had a friend who was no longer here…but whether she meant he was dead or not was debatable…Vincent stopped; he was thinking like a Turk. Dr. Crescent wasn't someone Vincent was going to pry into the private life of, he simply wanted to get to know her- he felt a connection somehow.

'…And I want her…'

A blush crept along his cheekbones then, to his embarrassment. Fortunately, the brown haired woman wasn't looking at him, but at the ground. His hair fell over his right eye, obscuring her from view.

When they reached the drawing room, the dining table was covered in several plates, piled high with food. There was also a stack of Tupperware boxes; Vincent hid a smile at the proud look on Dr. Crescent's face. Cucumber, cheese, tuna and ham sandwiches. Pork pies, sausage rolls and steak bakes. Banora white apples with their purple skin, pears, bananas and plums. Packets of crisps, chocolate bars, Kendal cakes and Nutri-grain bars…

"I hope Shinra are paying your servants well," Vincent said, as he took in the over-generous spread in front of them. Dr. Crescent gave him the first, whole-hearted smile he'd seen since he'd arrived in Nibelheim; it was a toothy smile, verging on a grin.

"You mean our servants. And I'm sure they are, Mr. Valentine," she replied happily, picking up a plastic box and placing a pear inside. Vincent did the same, only putting a Kendal cake in his. "Would you like a drink…?" the Turk followed her gaze to a trolley to the right, by the door that opened onto the back corridor. It carried two large bottles of fizzy drink- Pepsi and orange Tango- as well as two bottles of wine- red and white. Vincent shook his head; he'd barely had a chicken wrap the previous day, which Morgan had given him during the copter ride, and if he was honest, he felt a little sick at the sight of so much food. But he was a Valentine, and Valentines did not waste.

"Would you join me for a glass of wine?" he asked Dr. Crescent, who was poised, patiently by the drinks.

"Oh, I don't know…I don't drink alcohol, I mean I've never…" she began, picking at her cuticles, which Vincent had seen her do the night before. "I probably wouldn't like it," she made a face at him.

"But if you don't try it, you wont know," Vincent pointed out, coming closer to the trolley. His arm brushed once against hers; she flinched and dropped the glass she'd been holding. The Turk listened as it smashed, staring at Dr. Crescent. She flushed and turned away.

'It is me she has a problem with…'

Silently, he poured out two glasses of red wine, ignoring the broken glass at their feet. "Here,"

The brown haired woman looked back at him, face clearing when she saw the drink he was offering her. She took it and slowly, brought it to her lips, taking a dainty sip. Vincent didn't wait to hear her verdict, just set his jaw and walked out of the room, wine in hand and leaving his food on the table. If she wasn't happy about him being there, she could request a different Turk to take his place, he thought. But in the meantime, he would stay out of her way. Easily done…