Author's Notes: I think I'm enjoying this story too much. I know what I want to have happen, and some of the scenes plague me all day in my attempts to get them right, but I don't know what order they are going in, or just how I'm getting from point A to point B. I'm still not sure how it's going to go from Cid and Nida wanting to smack each other to how they are in the prologue. I just know they are. The one thing I'm certain of is one of the final twists in the story. Not the FINAL twist of course, but one of them. Penultimate maybe? It's going to be interesting. In fact, when we get to that twist we pretty much catch up to the point where the prologue is written by Nida and come to understand why he is writing his memoirs. And I'm pretty much set on the idea of making a story opposite this. Not sure what it's going to be named, but it's the same story from Cid's side. Just because I want to, so there.

Chapter 3

While he hadn't remembered feeling sleepy, much less actually falling asleep, who ever did? He did remember waking up of course, as it had happened only moments before. At least this time he hadn't woken up in a place he didn't know. Of course it wasn't his bed at Garden, or between the cool sheets in Esthar, but at least it wasn't yet another new place. He wasn't quite sure how many more he could handle after all.

Through the windows in the small room he could see just enough light to hazard a guess that it was either early in the morning or late at night. Other than that he was quite clueless. His hand moved to his forehead, and finding no temperature he could almost feel the tension melting from him. At least there were the small things that could make life easier, were there not?

Alas, the kind woman that had been there earlier to tend to him was not present, and even that Captain person wasn't around from the hush that had settled over the place. Even after so little contact Nida could tell that this Cid was not the sort that enjoyed things being too quiet for too long if he could help it. And he could obviously help it a good deal. Despite their lack of presence though, Nida didn't really feel like dragging himself from the bed. It was, surprisingly, quite comfortable. The mattress was firm, the sheets cool and soft despite being cotton, and it was up against a wall on two sides. Most people might find that an unimportant fact, but caution was trained into a mercenary, and leaving your back unprotected was a big no-no.

After a moment his eyes cast about, restless for something, anything, to do. True, he didn't want to leave the bed, but he needed to stretch his legs, and his stomach was growling something fierce. And he wasn't even considering the fact that he was parched and that he really needed a bathroom. Finally he noticed it, a single sheet of paper resting upon the seat Shera had been using earlier. Fingers, itching for something to do, darted out to scoop it up. It was something after all.

There wasn't much written, just a short note from Shera along the lines of 'in case you wake up while we're out', directing him towards the bathroom, where he could find some clothes, and telling him about a container of soup in the fridge that could be heated up upon the stove. The sort of note a mother would leave for a sick teen before heading out to work, or so Nida assumed. He had never known his own mother after all. It had just been him and his father for a while, and then all he remembered was Garden.

With the note to guide him Nida abandoned the comfort of the bed. It was a shock though when bare feet hit cold wooden floor and in an instant he was sitting with his feet crossed under his body, glaring at the evil wood. This, he noted to himself, was exactly why he'd insisted upon an apartment with carpeted bedrooms, and why there was always a set of warm and fuzzy white bunny slippers beside his bed at Garden. Those tiled floors could be pure evil if one was summoned to see Squall at four in the morning in the middle of winter, which happened often enough.

After a moment of quick thought the sheets were pulled from the edges of the bed and gathered up around his nearly naked body. His feet could handle the floor until he found some socks, but he disliked looking at his unclothed body. There were far too many scars for him to actually look upon them in pride. Yes, some he earned through hard training with Squall. But others were earned during the war, had memories of good kids dying for things they couldn't understand. There was too much pain in too many of them for him to want to remember, so he tried to stay covered. And somewhere, amid that mixture of modesty and bad memories, there was a small voice wondering if Shera or Cid had been the one to undress him. And that small voice wasn't sure which option it hated more.

Following the instructions on the note Nida hop-skipped his way over to the dresser and started rummaging through drawers. Shera had indicated that he and Cid were about the same size (at least in waist and foot) and that the Captain was willing to part with a set of clothes, socks included, for now. Once socks were retrieved and pulled on in a very hurried manner a set of pants that were a few inches too short for him followed them. What could he expect from a man that wasn't even his six foot? Of course, three years prior and Nida would have fit in them and still had a few inches around his ankles all loose. He wasn't a kid anymore, and he wasn't small either. There were few people in Garden that could look down on him these days… Sadly Seifer was still one of them…

After that Nida found himself pulling on a blue shirt almost identical to the one Cid had been wearing earlier, and felt a little let down that he couldn't quite fill it the same way Cid did. In truth it looked rather bad next to his dark hair and eyes, and worse next to his light skin, but what could be expected? The whole thing smelled a lot like homemade cigarettes, alcohol, motor oil, and some other scent that he just couldn't place. Some kind of bird or another. Chocobo maybe? Could this place have chocobos?

The thought was shaken from his mind, and with sheet still wrapped around him, the man shuffled out of the bedroom and into the hall. He wasn't sure which was more important just yet, food or bathroom. Of course his body made the decisions his mind failed to and socked feet pointed themselves towards the light Shera had said she'd leave on in the bathroom. Apparently several days was a bit of a strain. What a surprise! Odd… Sarcasm actually sounded worse in his head than it did when he would say it out loud. Oh well, little he could do about that.

When he was through with the more demanding bodily function, and washed his hands of course (Nida was a very clean person after all), he made his way to what could pass as a kitchen. The table, stove, and sink were piled with dishes. Apparently in the concern he had generated the household chores had gone neglected. With a sigh Nida set about clearing an area for himself to prepare the soup. Pots and pans, and a battered teapot(?) were set aside for a small pot that he quickly washed in the bathroom sink. The soup from the fridge was scooped in and set to heat up slowly as Nida stacked dishes and set himself about the task of cleaning up. It was the least he could do to repay Shera's kindness at any rate.

One of the things people didn't expect of Garden students was an ability to do the menial tasks needed to run a house on a day to day basis. Most people just assumed that they had their uniforms washed by the cleaning crew and that they ate only at places in Balamb or in the cafeteria. There were, in fact, practical classes for younger students, things one took before they went into the SeeD training regimen, and advanced classes designed to keep the female population happy, as well as help those who would eventually go into long term field work. Students learned everything from replacing buttons to making their own clothes (Nida had failed that final as he had managed to somehow cut his finger open on a single needle), and from boiling water to disguising the scent and taste of powerful poisons using certain dishes or herbs that wouldn't detract from potency (Seifer had learned that sleeping powder was just as effective when baked and fed to unsuspecting underclassmen). While the extent of Nida's skills in most of the lessons had been minimal, he could patch his clothes, prepare simple meals, and clean the giant messes he made in the process like a pro. Though he still did favor take out these days…

Soon enough the dishes had been tamed (and put away as best he could considering the fact that he didn't know the place and every dish seemed dirty) and a hot bowl of soup was resting upon the kitchen table beside a steaming cup of tea. Nida couldn't help but feel the mug had been a nice touch of course. It proclaimed: 'Captain's Cup: Touch and Die' in large block letters, a cute little 'or else' scribbled near the bottom in red. The mug was obviously Cid's, and so it only made Nida want to use it more, mainly because it would manage to upset the annoying man if he returned.

Of course the moment he sat down the front door was banged open and the Captain himself stormed in, oblivious to the guest seated in his chair with his mug and curled up quite happily in his clothes. One of the voices in the back of Nida's head said that the worst possible thing that could happen would happen, and attached a name like Morgan's Law to it. Or maybe it was Megan's Law… Murphy's? … Naw, had to be Morgan's. Knowledge of silly things like that aside, Nida knew that things were going to get very interesting very fast.

Luckily, though for who one could not be sure, Shera noticed Nida before Cid did, and quickly moved between the two men so that she could turn the words on the mug away from Cid. The look on her face was enough for Nida to understand what she wouldn't say, that now was a very bad time to provoke the smaller man. Not that he was trying to provoke Cid, no, not Nida, not at all. Okay, so maybe he was just the littlest bit. It was probably just revenge for the man casting sleep on him previously. At least, he was pretty sure it had been the man. Shera seemed a bit too nice for such an underhanded tactic.

"Good morning Captain, or is it good evening? There don't seem to be many clocks here," he said, keeping his tone conversational before taking a sip of the hot tea. Inside he could do nothing more than smile at the victory he earned when Cid practically jumped out of his boots and spun to face him.

For a moment Cid seemed torn between shouting at him and grumbling, so plain were those choices written on the face of the blond man. Instead he settled on retrieving the pack of cigarettes from his goggles and lighting a new one off of a barely surviving one in his mouth. A serious chain-smoker indeed. There was something tense about the action, as if the man was either very worried, or very annoyed, and holding it back. Then again, with Nida wrapped up in the man's sheets and wearing his clothes, it was quite likely that he was the cause.

"It's evening," Cid mumbled around his new smoke. "Almost sundown."

Shera quickly moved to Cid to calm anger that the man was obviously holding back with some skill. "Don't worry Captain. I'm sure she's fine. You know Miss Yuffie, she gets side tracked rather easily, but she can handle anything there is out here."

Cid nodded, and Nida watched the pair for a few more moments before deciding to cut into the conversation.

"Would this Miss Yuffie be the one you mentioned before?" This was followed by a sip at the hot broth which did so much more to warm him than clothes, sheets and tea combined. Chicken noodle just like mom used to make it, or so he assumed.

Again the blond nodded. "Yeah, that'd be her. Damn pest if ya asked me, but she's one of us, and she's likely to be helpful dealin' with…"

All three of them knew what Cid had trailed off from saying. 'Helpful dealing with you' was that Cid was going to say. But the fight that had been there earlier seemed to have faded with the sun and the man looked very tired. Well, weary was more of the word. Something in that weariness seemed familiar to Nida, something like what they had all felt after the war. It was the weariness that came with having trouble sleeping because you were sure that if you closed your eyes for longer than a minute the world was going to go to shit all over again. Maybe that explained why the man had obviously given up his own bed for Nida. Could he possibly be having trouble sleeping?

So Nida just nodded and sipped at the soup again. It was at this point that Shera, intent on paying attention to something other than the men in the room came to notice that the place wasn't in the state that she'd left it in but two hours before. Trained to handle reading Squall, a man who seemed to lack the facial muscles needed for expressions most of the time, he easily read the emotions flashing through her eyes. There was shock, wonder, and then disapproval. Why was obvious, he was her little patient, someone she could nurse, something Cid obviously wouldn't allow if he was ill, and he was cleaning up after her! He wanted to chuckle and assure her it was alright, that it had given him time to think, but before he could she had placed her fists to her hips and frowned.

"And just what do you think you'd accomplish other than wearing yourself out with this Nidus? You're supposed to be resting. I said that you should just microwave the soup and go back to bed."

"No offense was meant Miss Shera," Nida said easily, smiling up at her with what Kiros had referred to as the 'trust me' smile. "I was feeling rather restless. Needed to keep my hands busy and such. And soup is always better when heated upon an oven."

She nodded in agreement before sighing and setting about cleaning what dishes he had dirtied while preparing his meal, a single spoon, a pot, and a ladle. Cid, on the other hand, just sat down across from him and stole the mug of tea. Nida decided against protest and resumed eating until Cid chose to break the silence.

"She might be annoyin', but she's right," Cid said after a while, switching cup of tea for his cigarette for what had been the third time since sitting. "You could get all sick again, and then how the fuck am I supposed to get to the bottom of all this shit?"

"With a shovel I suppose," was the response as the youth finished his soup. Apparently even he could get in good bits of sarcasm once in a while.

For a moment Cid stared at him, and Nida was afraid he had overstepped some unspoken line, when Cid burst out laughing. A hand slapped the table as the blond shook with mirth. Well, less mirth and more exaggerated amusement. He needed it though, and that was obvious, so Nida didn't take it from him. When the laughter finally stopped Cid looked at the mug and frowned.

"You've got some balls usin' my cup kiddo."

"Didn't know I was being forbidden use it. Next time write that down." There was no hostility behind it. Nida knew there would be no real joy in gaining the upper hand in a verbal battle with this man when he was in such a state. It would be like challenging Zell to a silence contest when Seifer was in the room, or asking Selphie to sit still. There was no real purpose served in it.

"I will," Cid responded, but they were only words with nothing at all behind them. Shera stopped the whistling of the teapot and soon had a hot cup set before Cid.

"I have to be heading home now Cid," Shera said, breaking the silence for a moment. "Can you handle yourself tonight?"

The blond nodded and waved her away. "Yeah, I can do it woman. Get your lazy ass out of here."

Nida was surprised at the affection in the tone, but he knew he shouldn't have been. Seifer mumbled such things to Zell, but it was obvious that the two didn't actually hate each other anymore. Of course they had loathed each other once, but after saving each other multiple times, camaraderie had sprung up. They teased each other for no real reasons anymore, must like Cid was doing with this Shera.

Soon the woman was gone and Nida was left alone with Cid. Hours ago he wouldn't have wanted such a thing, but at this point Nida wasn't quite sure why he shouldn't deal with the blond himself. Sure, the man was like an older Seifer, though without the obvious talent to back it up, but Seifer proved to be a good enough person if you knew him for long enough. And that look about him, that weariness, it was something he could relate to.

Because of that weariness he saw, Nida finally chose to speak up as he stood with the now empty bowl to place it in the sink.

"You know, Captain, the world isn't going to suddenly stop if you give yourself the chance to rest. I'll see to that."

And once the words were said the SeeD didn't wait around. He moved straight towards the bathroom. A good hot shower was what he needed right now, and he did not intend to miss it in the slightest. His whole body ached, half from the illness he had over come, half from the injuries he had sustained. The door was closed, and locked, behind him and water adjusted before Nida shed the clothes he wore. There was a moment, though, when he held the shirt close and just inhaled the scent that was the Captain. He couldn't explain the all the odd feelings it dredged up, but he had to admit that the feelings were there. There was some comfort in that smell, a sense of security. It was like the smell of his machines back home in some way.

When he realized what he was doing, Nida quickly tossed the shirt aside and climbed into the shower. It was wonderful to feel the water washing over his skin. The water was so hot that his skin turned red, but he didn't much care. All that mattered was that it was hot, and that he felt clean, really clean, for the first time since waking up under whatever tree that had been.

Thoughts turned to areas that they'd refused to go while he'd been washing dishes. Sure, he'd thought all about how he could get home, just where he might be, when he might be, what all might have gone wrong with Odine's work, but he hadn't let himself think of home or the people he'd left there. It wasn't quite like he missed them, but there was a guilty pang in his thought that came whenever his thoughts turned to Squall, or Seifer, or Kiros. If as much time as his calculations suggested had passed, he'd been away from anywhere between five days and a week. Squall would have reported him AWOL, Seifer would be making some kind of remarks about him getting nabbed again, and Kiros… He'd promised Kiros he'd only be a few hours.

Part of him wondered if he was in a coma and this was all just some dream his mind was playing for him. Another part suggested it was death that he was buried in, and that his spirit was so restless that it made up things to entertain himself. There was even suggestions that maybe this was all just in his mind. Maybe he was just some mental patient who had escaped from somewhere and all the memories he had were just delusions. None of the options were pretty really, and just thinking about them left him rather weak in the knee.

After a while Nida lowered himself to crouch in the tub, letting the water from the showerhead trickle over him. He wanted to go home, so much. But he refused to let that get to him. Above all other things, Nida was a SeeD. He could handle any situation the world threw at him, even if it meant he might never get to go home. A good SeeD controlled themselves, their emotions, and the situation, and he was a good SeeD. He wouldn't let himself be anything less.

Under the scalding water he waited, waited until he was in control enough to do what must be done. Then everything was business. Hair was washed, a body cleaned, tension as relaxed away as he could get it with all of this frustration. When he was done a large fluffy towel quickly dried him off and he looked over the injuries he had sustained. Apparently while the people had sleep spells, they hadn't though him worthy of curative ones. With a sigh he reached out to the sweet voice of Siren and the spells she protected for him. Slowly skin knitted itself back together and some of the ache relaxed, but it did take a bit out of him. Curing always did that. It was more strain on the body than offensive spells, as one had to speed up their own natural healing. It was all rather complex…

Soon new, soft pink skin covered what had been injured, and Nida carefully pulled on the clothes. Even though he was having trouble standing he kept going. Falling over would not be accepted until he was in bed. Until then he had to keep going because if he didn't he would break down, and that he couldn't handle, not just yet.

When he opened the door he wasn't expecting to be faced with the rough looking blond, but there was Cid, waiting. He looked utterly serious and very impatient. Apparently he had not liked the fact that Nida had walked off without answering whatever question he had wanted to ask. Maybe what he'd said had not been a good place to leave whatever conversation they hadn't been having.

"What did you mean?" Cid demanded. Then there was a bit of redness in the man's face. Nida followed Cid's eyes and realized he hadn't put on the shirt yet. Wonderful. His chest was far worse than his legs when it came to scars, and everything from burns to long cuts would be visible. Of course it didn't occur to Nida that Cid had likely seen him shirtless before. It probably didn't because of the way Cid was looking at him. It made him rather uncomfortable. He wouldn't be surprised if he was red in the fact himself.

"What do you mean what do I mean, kid?"

"When you said that you'd see to it? If somethin' happened…"

"I could handle it," Nida said, quickly pulling the shirt on and pushing past Cid. "I could have handled those wolves on my own as well. And stop calling me kid."

With that Nida fled to the bedroom, which wasn't very far away. He didn't much care that he was hiding out in Cid's room, or that the man had a good reason for questioning him. Nor did he care that he was almost panicking while he leaned against the door. What he did care about was how his heart was beating far too hard, far too fast, and that odd feeling in his stomach had come back. It made no sense at all, and yet his stomach was doing flip-flops. Like if he let Selphie fly the Rag because he had some other matter to attend to for a moment. Like he'd felt when he took in the scent of the shirt.

Things weren't supposed to happen like this, right? He'd utterly hated the guy how long ago? Sudden kinships didn't happen. His mind was just trying to latch on to someone that was a lot like someone he knew. Anything that was familiar for his foundering mind was vital right now. It was nothing else. Just an old attraction for Seifer conjured up by a similar blonde. Nothing else at all.

By the time he got into bed he'd actually convinced himself that it had been just that.

--------

Yet again Nida awoke in a bed that was in no way his that stood in a room that was no where near Balamb or Esthar. It was truly growing annoying at this point, but there was nothing he could do but grit his teeth and bear it. Light was slowly filtering in through the window and his body protested at the early hour it assumed it to be. Of course, his internal clock seemed to be adjusting to local time, so it might just be right in this case.

The man slowly pushed himself upright and frowned down at himself, still clad in the clothes from the night before. Not that there was much else for him to have done but to go to sleep in them, but it still didn't feel right. It was bad enough he was sleeping in another man's bed, but in another man's clothes…

His train of thought was cut short as the sound of snoring reached his ears. Nida's eyes quickly darted to a form huddled in the chair, which was now closer to the door. Sitting there, head bowed, arms crossed over his chest, was the Captain. Apparently the man had come in at some point. Understandable of course, he was the man's guest, but there was that second bedroom he had seen, had been in. Did Cid really have to watch him sleep?

It was a question Nida didn't want answered just yet, so he carefully snuck from the bed and out of the room past Cid, not bothering to fetch new clothes. The last thing he wanted was to deal with the blond just yet. There were things he had to think about first, and a world he needed to go out and see.

Luckily Nida had noticed his boots the night before, resting next to the door. They were hauled on over Cid's socks, and the legs of Cid's pants were pulled over the high tops. But when Nida's hand closed over the doorknob, he suddenly couldn't find his resolve. He had no clue what could be on the other side of that door. Sure, Cid and Shera had said they were in a place called Rocket Town, but Nida had seen areas of three houses called towns before. This could be the middle of no where for all he knew. And the last thing he wanted to do was run into even more people than he had already. Cid was a handful on his own.

So the front was abandoned and for a while the man wandered aimlessly through the small house. Near the room he had first awakened in with its sterile walls was a room with more junk in it than Nida could shake a stick at. The back wall wasn't even painted, implying that the other room had once been a part of this larger room.

He knew better than to go through the junk, really he did, but knowing better and abstaining from acting were two very different things. Curiosity got the better of him and a large photo album that was carefully perched atop a mountain of boxes was retrieved.

Most of the pages turned out to be blank actually, but the ones that weren't told a bit of a story on their own. There were images of a far younger Cid Highwind, maybe even Nida's own age, working happily on some project or other, shaking his wrench at the camera holder in a threatening manner. There were others of him standing proudly by a small plane painted in bold pink and blue. Those quickly gave way to other sorts of images though, with a rougher Cid, still grinning, standing next to a large group of people or playing with some small kids. It was the image of the group that interested Nida though. He had a picture a lot like it back home… A picture with the other heroes of the war. With all of them in 'uniform', which were just casual clothes for them, and their weapons close at hand. Just like these people…

The album was placed aside after another moment of staring. Who was he to invade the privacy of another person like that? There were a lot of answers to that in his head, among them the fact that he was a SeeD looking for information, but none of them really justified it. So he carefully set things to how they were before he'd come into the room and he let his feet guide him to yet another part of the house.

It was a door, plain and simple, at the back of the house that drew him. Would have been like any other door in the house were it not for the fact that there was a poor excuse for a lock on it and a spear leaning against it that was a lot like those in Cid's room. Another way out of the house. Nida didn't have much experience with back doors, but what he did when it came to actual houses usually resulted in a small backyard or something that was a bit separate from the rest of the city or town around it. This was a chance he was more willing to take.

As the door opened to his touch and he caught a breath of fresh, spring air, he decided this would not be something he could regret. A cool morning breeze brushed his cheek, luring him out into a fenced off area. The reason for such precautions was obvious instantly of course. In the middle of the area, pointed towards a large gate, was the horribly painted, pink and blue plane. It wasn't much compared to what he knew back home, but it was enough to almost bring tears to his eyes. This was something he knew.

The thing was, compared to the vehicles he handled, rather archaic. There were propellers on the wings, things that hadn't been used in Estharian or Galbadian designs for at least fifty years. But he'd seen enough of the old things to appreciate the thing for what it was, a classic beauty. There was a whole three seconds of hesitation before he made his way to the 'Tiny Bronco' (as the wings proclaimed in more horribly chosen colors). His fingers brushed eagerly over the cold metal of the wings, reveling in the feel so much that he just closed his eyes to give himself a chance to experience it. It wasn't the most graceful thing, nor as efficient and deadly as his Ragnarok, but it was still amazing. Just by touching it he could almost taste the skies it had soared through.

For a while he just looked over the bird, making note of the features that were practical and probably stylish enough to keep Cid's eye. While it didn't have the look of a sea bird, there were salt water stains on the lower body, whispering of a story that he so desperately wanted to know. The cockpit was farther forward than he would have liked it, and there were a few small cuts in the metal of the wings, possibly from attack by a large airborne creature?

Once an access panel to the main engine was found Nida had it open and his hands in the guts of the thing. All old parts, outdated and pointless, but charming in their old fashioned style. When he noticed a few loose wires he frowned through, and had his own tool belt been close he would have gone at the girl with such a will. But he had neither the tools nor all the knowledge he'd need for something this basic. When one dealt with Gardens and space ships that doubled as airships… well… something as basic as this could be confusing without guidance.

"She's a beaut', ain't she?" came Cid's voice from where Nida assumed the door was. He'd gotten so caught up in the plane that even his normal sense of direction had been thrown off. As had his internal clock apparently, for the sun wasn't just showing over the horizon anymore, and his stomach was demanding its breakfast. The pilot jumped and quickly whirled towards the voice, angry that he'd been caught off guard by the blond a second time already, but quite happy he was here so that he could explain the Tiny Bronco.

"Very much so," he responded, almost surprised by the awe in his own voice.

"Bet ya've never seen nothin' like her before," the Captain continued, making his way towards Nida and the plane. "Built her myself. Well, more of fixed her up. Used to take her out twice a day…"

"Used to?"

"Yeah. After she crashed into the ocean, she just didn't fly the same. Can't seem to get her in the sky again. Poor girl has been grounded for three or so years."

"Pity," Nida said, almost mourning for the plane, and Cid. Pilots always had a kinship with a plane that they put that much time into. Once or twice Selphie had accused him of exaggerating when he'd insisted that the Rag didn't fly right for her, but he knew that the old girl preferred his gentle touch to her rushed directions. You didn't just point the Rag and hope she got there in one piece. You had to coax the good flight from her. She was, after all, older than he was. One had to respect a lady of that kind of age.

"You fly?"

All Nida had to do was smirk in response. It was a universal thing, the silent language of pilots. Once you knew that another person was a pilot it was a lot easier to read them. It explained how Cid had slept so easily in such a bad position. Pilots were said to be able to sleep anywhere, any time and through any thing. Nida was pretty sure he'd proved it once or twice. He was, after all, the only one he knew actually capable of sleeping through Selphie's little jaunts out with his lady.

"I fly," he threw in anyway, turning to smile at the grounded plane. "Never flown anything like her through. Always wanted to have a chance to though…"

"I'd offer ya a ride, but… Well, she just can't handle it no more. I just can't bear the thought of putting her out to pasture though. Old girl kinda saved my life, and the world in some part."

Pilots were a special thing, and they had their own special set of beliefs. Nida knew that very well. There were men that named their cars and cried if they got scratched. There were people who treated their motorcycles with such tender loving care that the things never really got a taste of the road. There were even boaters that named their boats but didn't put their mind or heart into doing so. True pilots weren't like that though. Their planes were their ladies. If she was grounded, even if you found another bird, part of you was grounded as well. And he couldn't handle seeing another pilot grounded like that.

"She's got some lose wires here… Can you get me some needle nose, and maybe a wire cutter?"

It was almost noon before the two stopped their work on the plane, and even that was only because there had suddenly been a hyper-active blur appearing out of no where to tackle Cid to the ground and proceed to lecture him on not escorting her into town. Nida, arms still deep in the wiring of the Tiny Bronco merely stared on in wonder as the blonde slowly extracted himself from the pin of the young woman. Once more several parts of his mind were at an odds as to what to do. He could help Cid up, but that would get the man more covered with oil and grease than he already was, for Nida was almost black up to the elbow from their previous work with the engines. He could just let the man founder as he was doing. There were many things he could do, but eventually he settled for removing himself from the plane and carefully holding his arms at his sides so that he wouldn't further dirty the borrowed pants.

"Damnit Yuffie, get the hell off of me," Cid bellowed before finally giving one last heave and shoving the girl off of him. At the same time he was smiling, obviously happy to see her.

So this was the girl, Yuffie Kisaragi, that Cid had called a Princess and expected him to know. Why he was baffled as plain to Nida now though. She had an exotic look about her, not your normal Caucasian. There were some people that looked like them in Esthar, people who could trace their heritage back to the ancient people of Centra, who were all supposed to have had dark hair and eyes and all that. Nida supposed his parents could probably trace their line back to Centra, but he'd never known them to check. Cid had obviously mistaken him for being from wherever this Yuffie girl was from. In that case he could understand the confusion he had caused. If he was from the same place as her, he should have known her because she was princess. But he wasn't and he didn't. No getting around that.

"So Cid, what made you decide to get everyone together all of a sudden? You know, Reeve isn't all that happy. He's got some project or other on the side of cleaning up the mess Chaos and Omega made. Taking days out of his busy schedule is like a sin you know."

"Yeah yeah," Cid grumbled as he stood. "I know. I expect he's going to like, try docking my pay or something."

"You aren't paid," Yuffie pointed out with a cheerfulness that wasn't as helpful as she probably assumed it was.

"Yeah, well neither are you, damn pesky ninja," the grumbling continued as the blonde made his way past Nida towards Shera. "You're fuckin' late girl. Me and Shera were out there for three hours last night waitin' for ya."

"You know how it gets. I got caught up in…"

Nida expected that the pause would come at any time. It was really only a matter of moments before the girl noticed him after all. But now that he had the majority of her attention he was almost uncomfortable. He wished Cid had taken her around the other side of the plane instead of straight past him. He wasn't even sure if he should bow or introduce himself or what.

"Oooooh!" Yuffie said, rushing around him in a circle to look the SeeD over. "I've never seen you before. You're not some kid that got lost are ya? Saw Cid's plane and thought you'd come to look. He's a cruel task master you know. You should run away."

"Damnit Yuf!"

"No," Nida said quickly, very nervous and shifting from one foot to another. "That isn't really what happened…"

"What part of Wutai are you from? Or your folks?" she continued, seeming to ignore everything he was saying, and the swearing of Cid in the background.

"I'm not from Wutai."

"Well of course you are! You look a lot like one of my cousins actually…"

"Yuffie!" Cid barked. He had already come back to her side, and a large hand closed around a single slender arm. "Get your damn ass inside and leave the kid alone. He's having a rough enough time without you annoying the hell out of him."

"I'll say," she countered, pulling away, "He's putting up with you."

Nida could sense the fight brewing over his presence, and was about to try to calm the pair before a different interruption than he had intended beat him to it. His stomach chose that moment to protest, very loudly, that it had been waiting around for over six hours for food and that it wasn't going to wait any more. The young princess and the pilot both turned to look at his stomach, and Nida turned a very vibrant shade of red. This was just going to be a perfect day, wasn't it?