IV. Introducing the Trespasser

Click. Yuffie's brow furrowed, but she did not move. Click. Click. Her eyelids snapped open, pupils dilating like spots of oil over earth. Her breaths accelerated to match pace with her animated heartbeat. Darkness dominated the bedroom, only persuaded from the windows by a penetrating beam of moonlight. Yuffie noiselessly brought her prone body into an upright position, casting her wary eyes around the room. Nothing was disturbed, but years of ingrained suspicion compelled her to feet to find the floor. She emigrated from the room, keeping her tiny form pressed against the walls and shadows.

The hallway was different in the dead of night. It was narrower, swallowing her up like Nero's darkness had. She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she emerged from the hallway and spotted Vincent's decumbent form against the outline of the couch. The rise and fall of his chest signaled undisturbed slumber. She straightened, feeling somewhat silly. She was acting paranoid. If Vincent's vampire senses weren't tingling, then they were fine. Yuffie froze on her heel. In the periphery, she saw it clearly: a shadow, but not just any shadow. A moving, breathing shadow framed against the glass side door by moonlight. Yuffie's heart thudded wildly against her ribs. She dropped low to the floor, inching closer into the kitchen where she could get a better view. She risked a glance back at the couch, but bit down on her lip to keep from calling him. Would he even respond to "Marc"? Where they being robbed? Yuki was not suited for self-defense. What could she do without blowing her cover? Her thoughts flashed to the frying pan, but it was all the way across the kitchen, closer to the door than she was. Maybe if she got the element of surprise she could—

The door swung inward soundlessly. Yuffie felt her fingers clench by her side. Vinnie, please wake up, wake up, wake—

The shadow crouched low to the floor on spindly arms and legs, like her. He wasn't an amateur, then. She was in trouble. He swung his head in her direction without warning. Yuffie felt her blood go cold. He bolted forward, large hands coming down as if to assault her. Against all instincts, she shot up, scrambling back with her arms raised protectively over her head. Her hands slammed back against the refrigerator, pinned beneath a pair of hairy, hot hands. Yuffie grit her teeth, cursing her cover to hell and back. His head leaned forward in the dark, his fetid breath brushing against her cheeks. There was a thump behind him. Glancing over the shadow, she saw fluid form of Vincent roll off the couch. Her attacker followed her gaze. A mistake. She managed to wrench a hand free, dipping it into the elastic of her panties. Her fingers fumbled for the knife tucked there. Her assailant's attention returned to her. She almost had a grip on it! If only—Yuffie stilled. The lights flashed on, blinding her. Something wet trailed down her face, and her now-freed hand went to her cheek, coming away with something that resembled—she squinted, forcing herself to focus—saliva. Sick bastard had licked her!

"Yuffie, drop the knife." It was Vincent's voice. She brought her saliva-slickened hand up against her eyes. He was lowering his gun, his expression trained non-threateningly on the trespasser. Like hell she was dropping the knife. He said her name already; there was no point in keeping the helpless act up.

"Yes, Yuffie, drop the knife," came a familiar voice, full of merriment. Yuffie blinked repeatedly, dazedly. Mortified, she retracted her hand out of the band of her pajama shorts in a single jerky movement. It was like being caught with her pants down. Worse, because Vincent Valentine had basically just witnessed her taking her hand out of her freaking panties.

The trespasser made a gruff sound. A chuckle. The color rose high on her cheeks. "What the hell, Nanaki? Don't you know how to knock? I almost sliced open your throat!"

Nanaki circled her once, golden eye twinkling in amusement, before moving to Vincent's side. "Fine words coming from you, little thief."

Yuffie resisted the urge to sink to her knees in relief. She rested her forearms heavily against the kitchen counter. "What are you doing here?" she sighed shakily. "Your breath stinks, by the way. And why do you look," her face twisted as she gestured to the feline, "like that?"

Nanaki frowned and sat on his rump. "I assure you, I am not pleased with my current appearance, but it was a necessary transformation in order to be a part of this operation." Yuffie could tell. He looked clean and groomed, for one thing. He was black, for another. He resembled a panther, or some kind of fancy black dog. Yuffie's eyes flicked from Nanaki to Vincent, who stood barefoot, clad in forgettable black pajamas. If they seemed to match back then, they definitely seemed to match now.

"Don't tell me. The Conlins own a pet."

Nanaki's hackles rose visibly at the term. "Unfortunately for me, yes."

"Why weren't you already here when we first got here?"

"I will not be a constant presence. I have taken this form in order to be an inconspicuous visitor every once in a while."

"You mean you're leaving again? Why are you here in first place?"

"Yuffie, Nanaki is our handler," Vincent interjected.

Yuffie stared at them both as if they had just announced their intentions to marry. "Right, and we have hot, passionate sex every Monday."

Nanaki made that same gruff sound again, his infuriating chuckle. "Vincent speaks the truth. I am your handler."

Yuffie wordlessly opened the refrigerator and stared directly at the bulb for ten seconds, letting the simultaneous feed of light and chill stimulate her. When she was finished, she turned around. Panther Nanaki still sat on his bum next to a pajama-clad Vincent. Okay, so she wasn't dreaming.

"I have brought your cellphones," Nanaki informed them, lifting his head to expose the silver chain that connected a black bag around his neck. Yuffie snapped out of her stiff stand-still and strode over, undoing the string that kept the bag shut. She reached in and pulled out two stylish silver phones. She tested the weight in her palm and nodded approvingly. They were light and wouldn't get in the way. She reached inside the bag again and pulled out a small envelope. Shaking it experimentally yielded a sliding that signaled more than one item. She tore the package open and a handful of shiny credit cards splattered all over her feet.

"Money!" Yuffie bent down and examined the gleaming, new credit cards, excitement bubbling from her every motion. "Nanaki, I love you!" She gave the feline a crushing hug, but at his fitful shifting, released him with doting pat on the head. "Any updates from the Beard-Man?" she asked briskly, nimbly collecting the cards from the floor and sticking them in the band of her shorts for temporary safe-keeping.

"Nothing more than what has been provided." Nanaki absently rubbed his side against her bare leg as he passed her to the living room. She followed him onto the couch and plopped down, crossing her legs and letting Nanaki's furry head rest against her thigh.

"Here," interrupted Vincent, holding out a folded pack of papers that she had clearly overlooked from the envelope. Frowning, she took it, her other hand petting Nanaki's sleek mane. It was an updated set of data from the companies that had been targeted by Lexing Corp in the past, profiling all the people involved in the negotiations. It didn't take long to notice who stood out: Byran Lexing, the head of Lexing Corp, and former proponent of the Shinra Electric Power Company, their mark. She was glad for the report, though the timing could have been better. Forcing down an ill-placed yawn, she returned the file to Vincent; he did not hesitate to take a closer look at the finer details. Yuffie figured she would get more out of it by reading it in the morning.

Plucking curiously Nanaki's ebony fur, she asked, "Did you dye it?"

Nanaki snorted his disdain at the very thought. "It was not my choice. I was forced to undergo a coloring treatment. It is temporary."

She leaned down and laughed. "You smell like dog shampoo!"

"Another unfortunate result of my transformation," growled Nanaki.

Yuffie affectionately buried her face in his fur and took a deep breath. She felt starved for friendly attention. Vincent was wonderful eye-candy, but he radiated an aura of strict no-touching. Nanaki smelled faintly of Cosmo Canyon beneath the synthetic shampoo. She detected another scent: slightly musky, like wild grass and tree bark. Gunpowder. Her eyes flared open. Vincent raised an eyebrow from where he sat on the opposite side of the room. "We're sitting on your bed, aren't we?" muttered Yuffie.

Nanaki raised his head at the question. "You sleep here?"

Vincent nodded, but did not seem otherwise affected by the inquiry.

"That's right. I was going to ask you for a favor when you got here," murmured Yuffie into Nanaki's ear, hoping it escaped Vincent's notice. He noticed, alright, but he wasn't within earshot.

Nanaki hummed, his throat vibrating slightly against her leg. "Go on."

"You think you could get him an air mattress or something?"

"Why not convince him to sleep in the bed?"

"I've tried," Yuffie said, on the verge of whining. "I've tried everything, but he won't listen. He treats me a like a disease." Last night—closer to several hours ago, now that she thought about it—Vincent had offered to sleep on the couch, which was just his way of saying he didn't want to sleep with her. Um. Sleep in the same bed with her, not sleep with her. She had tried to change his mind, but he was immovable on the subject. Who didn't want to sleep with the White Rose of Wutai? It wasn't like she even took up a lot of space or drooled all that much. It was kind of insulting, really. Vincent was such a stubborn prude. Nanaki threw back his head and barked his laughter. "Shut up!" hissed Yuffie, eyeing Vincent in a self-conscious panic. She honestly didn't know why she was trying to be clandestine about it. It his problem, not hers. It was his loss, not hers. But she couldn't help feeling guilty when she saw him stuffed on a couch that barely held up his tall, lean frame, all whilst she slept on that huge, comfy bed.

"This matter sounds easily resolvable, Yuffie. How is this any different than sharing a tent with him? Do you not recall our travels together? He will see reason."

"It's different. Trust me." Nanaki grunted noncommittally. "Promise me," pleaded Yuffie quietly, "pretty please, Nanaki? I'll be your best friend—please? Vinnie deserves better than a couch, don't you think?"

Nanaki's entertained expression did not fade, but he appeared to acquiesce. "I will see what I can do."

"Ooo, really?" She threw her arms around Nanaki. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"I will never understand humans."

"You must be hungry, huh?" spouted Yuffie beyond acceptable audio range, darting a quick glance at Vincent who had long lost interest in her murmurings. "Let's see what we can fix up for you!"

Nanaki clambered off the couch and trotted to the kitchen expectantly. Yuffie opened up the refrigerator door and began the normal routine of making a sandwich. "Is that all you can make?" asked Nanaki before she could slap bread on a dish.

"What? My sandwiches are to die for!" Yuffie drew herself up proudly. "Isn't that right, Vince?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. Before they could make the same mistake again, he averted his eyes. "They are," a pause, "decent."

Was he making fun of her? Was Vincent No-Cook Valentine trying to imply something? Yuffie glared at him. "I haven't seen you give it a go," she muttered under her breath as she put away everything but the ham. She tipped the pack of ham onto the plate and stuck it out at the ungrateful creature. "Here, just eat this."

Nanaki eyed it disparagingly. "Perhaps, I should order a housekeeper for you as well." Yuffie bristled. Why wasn't anyone appreciating her sandwiches? "You will soon be too steeped in your work to waste time cooking and cleaning up after yourself," he added.

"Really?" Yuffie replied skeptically, pondering over whether this was still about her culinary skills or not. The latter won out. "Well, okay, that sounds great! It won't complicate things, will it?"

"Not at all. I will arrange for the housekeeper to be here only when you and Vincent are absent. Although, I would advise against leaving things carelessly where one might find them."

"We'll stay diligent," Yuffie assured him. "Thanks, Nanaki!" Because, really, even Yuffie didn't want to be stuck eating sandwiches every night for the next few months.

The next morning, Nanaki was gone. She wondered if it was all a dream until Vincent handed her the silver cellphone that she had seen the night before. "Where did he go?" she asked, scanning the penthouse for black fur.

"Back." Wow, informative.

"How are we supposed to get a hold of him?"

"He is on speed dial. Number two."

"He is?" She flipped open the phone. Sure enough, there was a number already programmed in labeled "Dog Keeper." If Nanaki was number two, then who was number one? The WRO? Reeve? She pressed the appropriate buttons and pressed the phone to her ear. It rang once before she removed the device from her ear to look at the contact name: "My Man." Seconds later, Vincent's butt began vibrating. Brown eyes blinked wide at him. He pulled a matching phone out of his back pocket and flipped it open to a caller named "Honey." Her mouth dropped open into an "O."

To be continued.

A/N: How many of you guessed that it was Nanaki? I was always under the impression that Nanaki was particularly fond of Vincent and Yuffie. In case you do not already know, Chapters 1-3 have been revised as of 08/03/11 in an attempt to provide a smoother story and a more consistent narrator (i.e. Yuffie). Some things have been added, some things have been cut, but nothing major has been messed with. I hope the pieces have improved, even if only a little bit. I spent the time between updates to revise and also to brainstorm the rest of the story, thus the small lag. I apologize if it seems a little slow, but I promise we'll get there. Thank you for reading. Comments are welcome; critique is encouraged.