Birthday Presents

By: TheMusicMistress

A/N: Ah! I'm alive. Sorry. Been busy. Here's the fourth installment of BP!

OOOO

Wednesday Evening

"Vincent, do you enjoy Valentine's Day?"

Vincent blinked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because," I said, fingering the piece of complementary bread that the restaurant gave us. It was brown and crunchy. "Your last name is Valentine."

Vincent stared at me for a long while like he usually does, and then finally said, "Just because the name's the same doesn't mean that I enjoy it."

"So that's a no, then."

Vincent didn't grace me with an answer.

"I like Valentine's Day," I pressed. "I get chocolate. And sometimes if I'm lucky I'll get those special shiny boxes from the candy store on the corner by Tifa's bar and you know how they have the varieties chocolates…oh, and there's the lollipops and laffy taffy and stuff too…"

Vincent slowly put down his wine cup. "I figured as much," he said softly. Vincent always had a way of making his voice carry across the room even though I was sure he spoke softer than anyone else I knew.

"Figured what?"

"That the one thing that would make a holiday worthwhile for you would be that you received sweets."

I clapped my hands. "Oh, good boy! Long sentence!" I gave him a cheeky smile when he smirked at me. "So, what's wrong with that?" I finally said. "The only good thing about Valentine's Day is the candy."

Vincent's expression grew—excuse me, always was—somber. "You're too young to say that. "

I frowned at him like I would frown at my father when he'd try to lecture me for an hour. "I'm not young. And who are you to say that? You hate it too. Don't tell me that there's something more about Valentine's Day beside the food."

We both knew what he should say but we also both knew he'd probably never say it.

"Anyway," I said, clapping my hands free of crumbs, a signal that I wanted a subject change. Vincent, I'd have to face, would never explicitly say the things I wanted him to say. "Where's that waitress? You know, I think my calamari is poisoned. I feel like I have a shitload of ga—"

"Do you hate Valentine's Day because you have been rejected in the past? "

I stiffened. Why did he have to interrupt me like that? I mean sure, I'd probably do that to myself to stop myself from talking about my constipation, but hey, he didn't have to be so brusque.

"Have you?" I countered.

And Vincent actually gave me a half glower, half are-you-retarded look. "You could say that," he said coolly.

I bit my lip. "Sorry."

"It's fine, Yuffie."

"It's not that I hate Valentine's Day," I backtracked. "It's just that…well, OK fine I hate it. I just don't like seeing everybody get all lovey dovey. Yeck. Even Cid becomes a regular Casanova and we both know what nasty things that could lead to. You know a reindeer dies every time that man is naked, right? "

"He would probably say that about you. "

"No, I've got dibs on groundhogs."

"…"

The waitress came by and asked how we were doing.

"I think the calamari is bad," I said to her. The waitress, a young blonde with gray eyes, glanced down at the calamari and back to my face.

"Are you sure?"

I blinked at her a few times. "What? Of course I'm sure. I'm telling you, because of the calamari I have to let out the biggest fa—"

"She's mad about Valentine's Day and insists on taking it out on innocent waitresses and the delicious food."

"Oh…" The waitress nodded knowingly at Valentine, who was getting comfy in his booth and looking too smug for a man who was supposed to have no emotions. I, on the other hand, was pretty sure that I looked like how somebody would look if they were slapped in the face with a dragon's left testicle.

She left without taking my calamari back, the damn brainwashed harpie.

"How could you, Valentine?" I sputtered. "Cat eater! Gnome kicker! Cat dookie eater!"

"So who rejected you?"

"Nosy drunk!"

"Yuffie, that's enough."

"Gay thumb-twiddler!"

"Thumb-twiddler?"

I sank back into my seat once I realized I'd been inching toward his face like I was berserk. "The calamari is bad," I repeated for lack of better things to say. It really was bad—too salty. I had a way of blowing things out of proportion though. Maybe that's why Vincent had a hard time imagining being more than friends with me. I sure was a drama queen.

"Anyway," I sputtered, not liking how Vincent had contented himself with staring me into a nerveless amoeba until he got his answer. "I was never rejected. I've always been too busy stealing stuff…fighting stuff…stealing stuff…"

"Was it Cloud?"

If I had telekinetic powers like I always wanted I would make Vincent's wine explode in his face. Unfortunately though I was not gifted with such awesome power, so all I could do was throw the remains of my bread at him—at his chest, not at his face, because I had bad aim.

"Avoiding problems isn't healthy," Vincent commented as a bread crumb sailed lazily down into his lap. At his words I upped my firing rate, until it seemed it was snowing over his plate and lap.

"Isn't healthy?" I demanded, lobbing a huge chunk toward his wine. He caught it deftly between his pale fingers and calmly placed it on his plate. He smoldered me with his eyes.

"What's the matter, Kisaragi?"

"You said it's not healthy, and yet you do it all the time."

He leaned back into his seat, his eyes monotonous but a lean eyebrow arched up in curiosity.

"Like when?"

What should I say? Like now, stupid face? Like when you look at me and I know you want to say something, or when you chase away other guys and you think I don't notice but I do, or when you let yourself get hung up over a girl who turned you into a vampire and left you for a guy with a harelip? Like when, you ask!?

Stupid stupid stupid!

"I can't think of any," I said dully. I had run out of ammunition, the table was a mess, and I was angry at myself for not being able to tell it to Vincent straight.

"I see," was all he said, per usual.

We had a staring contest after that for a while.

"How're you all—oh sweet junipers, what happened?" the waitress exclaimed as she pulled up and surveyed my war zone. She seemed pretty shocked, with her pink manicured nails covering her shiny, glossed lips. Hey, did she just put on some makeup? Anyway, I thought my work was, well, a work of art, but apparently she thought it was a colossal and inappropriate mess.

"BMD," I said calmly to her.

"What was that?"

"Bread of mass destruction."

"I can see that," she told me.

"I'll clean it up," I told her.

"Let's hope so." She angled her body to Vincent, who was frowning quite deeply after having realized there was a stray crumb floating in his wine. "Sir, here's your food." She smiled coyly at him but he didn't seem to notice. Disappointed, she sulked away.

"It's a good thing you didn't order the escargot," I commented. "Because that's gross. It's cannibalism."

Vincent slowly dragged his eyes away from his what-he-now-considered-a-ruined drink.

"I'm sure—"

"Cannibalism."

"Cannibalism means eating another human, Yuffie."

I sighed and waited for my food that wasn't going to come. That waitress was probably withholding it so she could mix in some spit with it. "So? Snails are supposed to be our closest relatives, second only to gorillas and fairies."

"Fairies aren't real. And snails don't even have vertebra."

"What? Did you say you like bras?"

"…nevermind."

The waitress came back a few minutes later, surprisingly with a new plate of calamari along with my spaghetti. After slipping her an under-the-table tip and feeling extremely sophisticated for doing so, Vincent and I ate in silence.

After a while my stomach started to turn nervously. I slowly glanced up from eating.

"Hey Vince, there's this guy staring at you," I said in an offhanded manner after swallowing down some bread. "Two tables behind you. He has sunglasses on inside the restaurant. What a weirdo."

Vincent slowly shrugged his shoulders. "Are you sure it's not you he's looking at?"

"Valentine, if it was me he'd be all over me by now because I'm that hot."

Sigh. "…just eat, Yuffie."

I slipped back into subdued silence. That guy was creepy and I didn't like him. Or maybe that was my inner jealous Yuffie that didn't like some nasty other guy staring at Vincent like he was a piece of prime rib.

Hey, why did he keep grabbing at his shirt? Was he sweaty or something? I know Vincent was attractive, but he wasn't so much that it would actually make you sweat profusely. Besides, the restaurant is perfectly air conditioned. I should know, I can't feel my legs right now. (Which, by the way, is not a very good feeling when you're sitting across from a guy snuggled in a long, warm cape).

"Vincent, he keeps touching himself."

"…I'd appreciate if you didn't tell me such things while I'm eating, Yuffie."

I leaned forward so that I was practically talking to the table cover. "No, seriously, he keeps touching his collar."

Vincent paused for a second and then laid down his fork casually and called over the waitress. I'd never seen a girl move that fast. "Another drink?" he asked politely, nodding to her. Excited for being acknowledged, the waitress nodded enthusiastically and skittered off.

"Just keep eating," he told me calmly. Easy for him to be calm; he didn't have to look straight at the guy.

"But—"

"Just trust me."

I shoved a forkful of spaghetti in my mouth because I knew I'd never shut up other wise. It had finally dawned on him that the guy watching us wasn't just some public stalker intent on learning his eating habits. Geez, I really had to protect Vincent from this sort of thing. Who knew what kind of sick mind wanted to kidnap him and use him for a sex slave?

Besides me, of course.

"Is he still looking?" Vincent had just received his second wine and was tipping the glass carefully to his lips without actually drinking anything.

"Vinnie, is the sky blue? Does Cid smoke? Are Tifa's boobs a biological anomaly? Of course he's still looking! Gah!"

"What is it?"

Gawd Vinnie, don't snap the fork in half.

"His hand is in his pocket now—oh my gawd he's grabbing at something—Vinnie I think it's a gun!"

Vincent muttered something and slid his human hand across the table. He wrapped his suddenly cool fingers around mine and looked me straight in the eye.

"We have to go," he said very seriously.

I just nodded.

Seconds later I was being dragged behind Vincent through the labyrinth of alleys that Edge consisted of. I was very aware of somebody following us, just like how you're aware when somebody is giving you an intense stare. Actually, it seems that our follower had done just that in the last few minutes of our restaurant rendezvous.

Which, by the way, was completely ruined. Now that man would have to face my ire. Did he have any idea how hard it was to get Vincent to take me out like that?

"If he catches up with us, I'm going to kill him," I told Vincent as I caught up to his side and jogged with him. He looked down at me, and I could see the curiosity in his moonlit eyes.

"Why?"

I pouted. "He messed up my date with you."

Unfortunately, Vincent is much taller than me, and from my vantage point I couldn't tell if he was frowning or smiling. I sincerely hoped it was the latter.

Suddenly Vincent grabbed my wrist, halting my jog. In one fluid movement he picked me up into his arms, holding me snug against his chest. Then he started to run.

"There's more now," he explained, his face looking serene even though he must've been running much faster than a normal human. As I watched him run I realized that he would never cease to amaze me. Vincent wasn't completely human, after all, so I was positive that every other guy I'd meet in my life would pale in comparison to Vincent Valentine.

A shot ricocheted off the gray brick of the buildings and Vincent picked up speed.

I know this is dumb to point out when I'm in a life-or-death situation, but sitting in Vincent's arms is better than sitting in the game cars at the arcade. Seriously, he goes so much faster than those suckers. Plus, you know, the seats there don't smell like cologne like Vincent does. The seats at the arcade just smell like…smelly…nerdy…butt. And I won't go into detail what exactly that is, but it's gross.

Wow, now Vincent was doing a juggling act with my body. He seemed to be trying to support my entire weight with his left arm while he reached around his pants with his right. Gawd, he'd be a great circus attraction if he just ran around and carried women on biceps or something.

"You want me to piggy front you, Vincent?" I asked when I saw he was having trouble upholstering his gun. He simply shook his head.

"Don't talk dirty to me when I'm trying to concentrate, Yuffie."

"Huh? No, Vinnie, I mean, I can hold onto you, not you hold onto me! Look!" And before he could even respond I twisted my body and clung to his front. I wrapped my legs around his trim waist and wrapped my arms around his neck. Now he had two free hands. And now I could clearly see our followers…GAH!

"Holy crapballs, there's six of them! AHH!! THEY'RE SHOOTING AT US!"

Bam! Bam! Bam! Was all I heard as Vincent returned their fire. Even though I was now clinging to his chest like a parasitic monkey, he still had his left arm wrapped firmly around my waist, like he was afraid I'd fall out of his arms. Gawd, don't ask me how he could do all that and still keep running.

"Take that pig tit!" I snarled, hurling one of my ninja stars at a man. I think I sliced him pretty good, because the man yelled out and slowly fell back.

So I had cut down their numbers to five men, but now they knew that Vincent wasn't the only one capable of attacking too. I thought they'd start weaving or something, but instead, suddenly, they ran into a side alleyway and disappeared.

Vincent slowed to a jog, which in my world would still be close to breakneck speed.

Vincent's brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes narrowed as if he was straining to hear something. He stopped running completely. I wanted to hoot and holler that we'd won, but I knew that Vincent had some special hearing abilities, and if he was looking constipated right now, then I knew it couldn't be completely over.

Suddenly he growled.

"Hang on to me," he murmured.

I nodded dumbly, true to my moronic roots.

Then Vincent began running again like a crazed juggernaut, and it didn't take long to wonder why.

Really, bad guys are always so unfair. Jerks.

The five had reappeared again, but this time each sporting their own motorcycle. They weren't like the big ass one that Cloud likes hauling around, but small, economy-friendly ones. Cute, and small enough to weave through alleys.

Wait. That was bad.

Damn them all to guinea pig hell. Every time I tried to fling a shuriken at them now, they'd be able to swerve out of the way in time. So unfair! On the other hand though, Vincent was still running faster than them. Oh no, wait. They were catching up…hey that one guy was really close now…

"AHH! GET OFF MY FOOT, DEMON LLAMA!" I kicked the guy's hand away, and damn him ever more, my boot went with him. Excuse me, I need to emphasize that it was my favorite boot. It was like the equivalent of Vincent losing his favorite claw—and don't tell me that he only has one because that's completely unsanitary. Or like Tifa losing one of the jellyfish—bless it's soul—that's been unceremoniously shoved into her boobs for extra…boobage. Or—

Gah! Ugh guh guh ughgughuggh.

That's pretty much the only noise I made as Vincent made a sharp turn and started running up flight after flight of metal stairs. My chin kept smacking his shoulder, making my teeth clatter, and if we were not running for our lives I'd think it was kinda comical.

Did I mention that all the guys look the same? They're all wearing suits, with black sunglasses, and short, cropped black hair. Well, except for one near the back that has long, flowing blonde hair. Weirdo. I'll let Vincent take care of that one.

Crap, Vincent is running out of places to go. We're nearly to the roof of this very tall building. Geez, he's been running for forever now. I could actually feel his body heat emanating off of his body. For a man that looked like a vampire he was incredibly warm. He wasn't sweating though; sweat glands seemed to be nonexistent in his system.

"Vinnie, what're we going to do?" I demanded nervously in his ear as he shot a few more wayward rounds behind him. Vincent was good, but he just couldn't run up stairs, hold me, and shoot properly at the same time.

What a generous man, he didn't give me a frickin' answer.

Well, we're on the roof now. Stuck between the end of a roof and five scary men (excluding the blonde drama queen). Oh snap, oh snap…

Gah, they're pulling out guns. Oh my heavens, they're all getting ready to shoot.

"Yuffie?"

"You better be about to tell me you're going to go Chaos on these guys asses or something—"

"…hold on tight."

And let me tell you, right then I came as close to pissing myself as I probably ever will in my entire life.

Vincent ran backwards and jumped straight off the roof.

Easy for him to do, but since I was still piggy-fronting him, I got a front row seat of watching the ground rush up to swallow me whole.

I'm not sure what I was screaming as we fell, but I'm sure it was the most profane word in the history of human language.

And as we fell, I could hear it. Five gunshots, and five gunshots only.

They didn't follow us after that.

"Yuffie?"

Gawd, who was making a terrible noise?

"Yuffie."

Geez…somebody seriously needed to chomp down on a pacifier…

"Yuffie."

Whoops, heh he he. The noise was coming from me. See, I still haven't gotten over seeing Vincent kill people…normal people…in cold blood. I knew that he did it all the time, but it still made me want to wretch. Dead monsters I could handle. Dead people…I don't…urk…I have to…barf…

Vincent put me down and leaned me over a garbage can, where I retched miserably. What a gentleman, he even rubbed my back in slow circles while all of that damn calamari and bread made it's way back up my throat.

I couldn't really talk after that. Hey, I was embarrassed. How would YOU like your first date to turn into a motorcycle chase and end with you puking in an alleyway? Totally not how I pictured romancing Vincent Valentine…

Vincent carried me the rest of the way back to his mansion, where he leaned me against my fat chocobo and went to call Cloud. I patted the chocobo's hide as it warked at me.

"I know," I said glumly. "Sad excuse for a date, huh?"

Gawd, my hands were shaking as I held onto his reigns and tried to forget how the men's brains would've gone splat when he shot them.

Stupid thing just warked again.

"Yuffie," Vincent said as he reappeared by my side. He spoke softly and close to my face, as if he was afraid I'd break. Very kind of him, I thought, since I smelled like nasty barf. "I need to speak with Cloud. Would if be alright with you if I take you back myself?" He glanced at the chocobo that I was leaning heavily on for support. "He can stay in the stables out back for the night."

I nodded, then noticed that he was struggling to hold something behind his back.

"You OK?" I asked suddenly, when his face suddenly contorted, like he'd just been kicked in the nuts. It was pretty funny to see Vincent do that. Wait no, I was still kinda scared of him at the moment.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his wine-red eyes sincere. "I didn't think…that…ending a person's life…would still affect you in such a way." I could see he was struggling to find the right words to not offend, something that was nearly unheard of for the ever-eloquent Vincent.

I shrugged, trying to look disaffected. "I'll get over it." I glanced at the way he was doing a sort of wiggling dance with his hips. "What're you doing, Vince?"

He scrunched up his nose. "I have a…ow…birthday present for you."

"Oh."

Sorry, running from guys meaning to kill me, only to have them end up dead themselves, kinda pushes everything to the back of my mind.

"Close your eyes."

I nodded.

"Put out your hands."

I let go of the reigns of my fatty chocobo.

Suddenly the chocobo was warking up a storm, and suddenly I had something very fuzzy in my hands.

"Ah!" I yelled, when the fuzzy thing took the liberty to bite the crap out of my thumb. My eyes flew open and I looked down at the yellow ball of puppy fuzz that I was holding up by the armpits. The puppy was growling and having a field day trying to bite off my fingers.

"…no one wanted him," Vincent explained.

I felt like saying something sarcastic, but then the puppy looked up at me. He had startling green eyes, the same shade of Aeris'. He stopped gnawing at my fingers and let his soft, small tongue loll out of his mouth.

And so I fell in love with a puppy named Verde.

"Aw crap," I said, when the puppy decided to leak on Vincent's pants. Wow, he had a pretty far trajectory path. Very talented, much like me. 'Cept I didn't take the liberty of peeing on handsome men's pants.

So we were debating whether to shower before we left when Cloud called again, insistent on hearing our story. I rolled my eyes while I stood on my left leg, since I was missing a shoe on my right one. And Verde, of course, thought this was all some kind of game so was trying his hardest to jump up and gobble down my toes.

"We have to show up all stinky, don't we?"

Vincent nodded. I sighed.

"Gawd, the hell is his problem. You know, we always waited for him as he took his beauty showers. Why's is always so insistent with us? It's like he always pushes our feelings aside, you know, Valentine? Seriously, Vincent, we should have a bad ass uprising against our so-called leader…what's the matter?"

I was babbling for sure, and Vincent had been watching me with thinly veiled curiosity. Then he moved forward, like a cat, and tugged my head to his chest, resting his lips on my forehead. Verde barked happily and made a frenzied dive for Vincent's black pants.

"I'll protect you," he murmured. Huh? Why'd he say something like that? Geez, Vincent never made any sense.

Still, it made me feel better, and quieted my nervous shivers some.

So Vincent called a cab, and we freakin had to pay the man extra just for having the puppy in the car. Oh well, we were even because I coaxed Verde into pissing on the leather seat.

What was strange, though, was that Vincent had sat in the back with me. And even stranger, he held me to his side with his claw wrapped around my shoulder, like he thought I'd fall out the window or something. I dunno, I didn't know what to make of it.

Oh, I probably need to mention at this point that the whole ride over, in addition to holding me, he watched me. The.Whole.Time. Not even trying to hide it or anything! Hey, I'm not complaining, I'm just saying that…oh agh urgh. I don't even know what I'm saying. Truthfully, the whole time I was completely unintelligible. My head? A big ball of mush. And I swear, Vincent can hear the change in heartbeats because he seemed to be sporting a smirk every time my heart accelerated when the car hit a bump and our bodies moved closer. Aw crap, was he flirting with me? If so, I'm totally lame because all I did was play with Verde's ears and not look at…him…oh…can't…think…straight…anymore…

I sat in the back of the bar as Vincent, Cloud, and Tifa talked over the counter. Marlene and Denzel were fast asleep by then, since it was literally in the middle of the night by then. Even Verde was pooping out and only making slow circles around my feet.

I wandered upstairs a little later after Verde fell asleep on the floor. I tossed my dirty clothes on my floor and hopped into a shower. I needed to wash the pukey smell off of me. For the sake of letting Marlene and Denzel sleep though, I made the shower short.

When I came back down the stairs, wearing a tank top and spandex shorts, the three adults were no longer talking in hushed whispers but conversing in a more casual way. Obviously the whole matter had been sorted out in the few minutes I'd been gone.

"So, what was that about?" I asked as I slid into a counter stool next to Vincent.

Cloud snickered. "You tell me," he said.

"Huh?"

Vincent elaborated for me, bless his soul. "They were chasing after you."

"WHAT?!"

Tifa nearly slapped me. "Yuffie! The kids!"

"Whoops. Sorry," I whispered. I frowned. "Why were they chasing after me?"

"Stop whispering like that, you sound like a hag," Cloud was kind enough to tell me. "I was able to get info from their…leader, I suppose…that you stole some materia from some very important people. Can you remember who?"

I snorted, then stopped myself when I realized that Cloud didn't look happy with me at all. "The only person I haven't stolen from is…well, practically no one. So no, no face comes to mind right now."

Cloud shook his head. "Yuffie, you—"

Tifa cut him off short. "But it's OK, isn't it?" she asked Cloud with a glare. "Because all you stole was some low level materia that luckily we had in our own weapons."

"Oh. Good, I guess? Wait…they came here?"

Cloud nodded, still giving me the dirty business with his eyes.. "Right after Vincent called. We gave them the materia. They shouldn't be bothering you now."

I felt disturbed, but I kept that to myself.

"I'm going to sleep," I said, because even though Tifa said it was OK, I felt like Cloud was glaring at me too harshly. Obviously he blamed me for putting them in possible danger.

And it was my fault, wasn't it? That five guys…possibly six…were dead.

"I'm sorry," I said shortly. "I'll pay you back..in the morning." And then I slid out of the stool, feeling like a ghost. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tifa glaring murder at Cloud, who was giving her a 'What?' look in annoyance.

I quietly walked up the stairs and Vincent followed me. No one objected, not even Cloud. Verde jolted awake when he saw me leaving and whimpered as he scampered up the stairs after me.

"Valentine, what're you doing?" I asked tiredly, coming to a stop in the middle of my room. I didn't bother to turn on the light, but that was fine because my window let in a sufficient amount of moonlight.

His answer was to quietly shut the door behind him.

I sighed, trying to sound annoyed. But I wasn't. Gawd, I was nervous. Because what the hell was Vincent doing in my room? Following me, a teenager, into my room? Was he going nuts all of a sudden? What happened to Vincent and his proprieties?

"Yuffie."

His voice was soft and gentle, and it made me more nervous. I glanced at the wall, and was horrified to find that I could see the faces of the men that were dead. Oh gawd. Oh crap, I was scared now.

I sniffed, feeling like I was the root of all evil at that moment.

"…it's not your fault," Vincent said softly, but we both knew that wasn't the truth. I just shook my head sadly, not facing him, and made my way over to my bed. I had one knee propped up on my head when I felt his heat behind me.

He was leaning over me, his hair creating a curtain around our faces. I was trembling so bad that it was ridiculous.

"They're dead," was all I was able to say.

"…"

"Vinnie?"

"…yes."

Was I really going to do this?

Yes, I had to. Because I knew, if I didn't ask, that the shadows on the wall would creep over to me and strangle me in my sleep.

"Can you sleep with me tonight?"

A pause. Then he sighed.

"Yes."

OOOO