Quick warning: The "M" starts meaning something here. There will be sexual content coming up here soon.
8
He's there, still awake, when an indistinct bad dream wakes me up near dawn. All I know is that I'm suddenly awake, and sweating. "Tera?" Vincent says, gently. "Are you all right?"
"Bad dream," I mutter. I see Hojo's face flash in front of my eyes, and gasp in spite of fifteen years of training in control.
Vincent reaches out for me. "You're awake now," he says. "I'm here, and I won't let anything that's not a dream get you." He touches my hair with his gauntlet, which he draws back slightly in surprise.
"Thank you, Vincent," I say softly, "for everything." To myself, I think, Especially for finishing Hojo. I go back to sleep, knowing he's there to look after me.
When I really wake up, he's asleep in the chair, and it's ten in the morning. I can usually just tell, somehow, what time it is. Damien is poking his head in. "Oh, sorry, Captain," he says. "Did I wake you up?"
"No," I yawn. "I was waking up anyway." I eye Vincent. "If my back didn't hurt, I'd demand you help me toss him into bed, but I doubt you could lift him without waking him." Damien smiles.
"You're feeling better, then." He sounds more than relieved.
"Oh, lord. What's happening?"
Damien winces, and says, "Owen had to be tied to a chair to prevent him doing anything stupid. He didn't think Yuffie was actually going to hurt you."
"She might not have been meaning to," I admit. "When I saw my knives in her hands, I sort of lost it. I really hurt myself. You know how my back is."
"Yeah, Tifa told him that, but he's not hearing sense right now."
"Damn. I'll go talk to him. Hang on." I touch Vincent's face gently. "Wake up, Vincent."
His eyes open immediately. "How long was I out?"
"Not sure. Damien tells me Owen's being suicidal, so I really need to get down there, but I didn't want to go and have you wake up with me gone."
He blinks at me, then smiles slightly. "Thank you." He stands up and stretches. "Here, I'll help you."
We make our tottery way downstairs, and I grimace at Vincent's black eye, in full sunlight. "You didn't ice that, did you."
"No. I was worried about you."
"Can you see out of that eye?" I ask tartly.
He squints for a minute, then says sheepishly, "Not really."
"Twit." Tifa, overhearing me, chuckles and heals the black eye.
"As a favor to Tera," she says to him. I thank her, and follow her down to my second. "I don't know if he'll even listen to you, now," she warns me, "and letting Yuffie near him would be insanity."
"I imagine," I reply. "She somehow talked him into violating a vow he made to me fifteen years ago. Even if Damien hadn't told me, I would have known he was like this." I step toward the door, then turn to Vincent. "Tifa will help me," I tell him gently. "I'm not sure him seeing you won't make things worse."
"Okay."
"Go get something to eat, and tell Reeve to make Owen some breakfast. He'll eat if I have to force-feed him." I walk into the room where they have Owen confined, and wince. He's definitely done more damage to himself than Vincent could have. His veins are standing out as he tries to get free of the ropes. "Owen," I say, softly.
His head jerks up, and he sees me walking upright. "Oh, Tera," and to Tifa's shock, he stops fighting the bonds and just cries helplessly. I cut him loose and hold him, with a sigh. "I'm so, so sorry," he whispers to me. "I didn't know what she was going to do, and I was so angry. . ."
"Owen, you idiot," I scold gently. "I'm fine. I hurt myself. I'm not sure what she was going to do, but I flipped her over my head when I saw that she'd taken my knives. You know how I get when people mess with my stuff." He looks up at me, and I smile. "I strained my silly back again, that's all, I promise. I got a good talk with Tifa, a hot bath, and a lovely new robe out of it, so I'll call it a draw."
"Are you sure?" he asks, sounding hopeful.
"I've strained it enough times to know by now, goose," I reply. "I believe you when you say you didn't know, Owen, and I know you would have been the first person to me if Vincent hadn't hit you over the head."
"Did I hurt him?" I blinked at the question, and Owen lowered his voice. "I can tell you like him, and I was being flat nasty."
I chuckle. "A black eye, and a cracked rib, if I'm any judge." Tifa gasps, and I laugh. "Ask this lad here; it's fairly hard to hide injuries from me." Owen nods, ruefully. "Thank you for healing it without embarrassing him," I add. "Boys are so silly that way. He'd rather hurt like hell than let me be mad at Owen for hurting him."
Owen said, "Really?"
"Yeah. He was furious with Yuffie, and clearly the whole thing is her fault. What did she tell you, Owen?" Tifa asks.
"Just that he'd interfere if she did anything to, um, 'take Tera down a peg,'" he says, blushing. "I was still mad, and I thought she'd do something like I do when I'm annoyed at you." At Tifa's questioning look, he adds, "Pranking. I put an eel in her pillow case once." He grins as I shudder.
"You couldn't know how they were introduced," Vincent said, bringing in a tray. "Reeve says if you resist this, your wake is on Friday." It was a smothered omelette with fresh hash browns and cheese all over everything. He'd also included orange juice and toast.
I chuckle. "Certainly knows the way to your stomach, doesn't he, Owen?" Indeed, my friend is staring at the food like he's never seen it before.
Then he looks up at Vincent. "I'm sorry I took my temper out on you," he says. "I could have really hurt you."
Vincent shrugs and hands him the tray. "I'm durable enough, and I didn't exactly knock you out gently." He turns to Tifa. "Did I give him a concussion?" She shakes her head, and I laugh.
"He's got a very solid skull, does Owen," I say lightly. "He's been whanged over the head before, and undoubtedly will be again." Owen is plowing head first into his food. "You're getting easier to talk around," I tease. "Maybe I should take Reeve with us if we leave."
"If anything serious had happened to you," he says, looking up from his half-finished breakfast, "no one would have been able to stop me."
I blink back sudden tears and move the tray to hug him hard. "I feel the same about you, you idiot," I whisper to him. "You've been my best friend for fifteen years; don't you think I'd miss you a little? I'm sorry I gave you such short notice on the changes; I knew you wouldn't take it well, but-" Owen cuts me off.
"But nothing, Tera. You're my captain. I should follow your direct orders; you give them so seldom. I was awful, even before this." He shakes his head. "Now stop being gushy on me, woman," he orders, sounding hoarse.
"Sorry," I say. "But you looked horrible when I came in, even worse than when. . ."
"I know. You mean more to me than I would admit under any other circumstances," he says sheepishly. "I'll deny it if you tell anyone, but I love you like a sister."
I grin at him. "I'll make mention of it at your wedding; how's that?" He snorts. Owen's always maintained that all nine hells will reverse temperature before he marries anyone. Ever.
Vincent looks relieved when I stand up with little difficulty, pulling Owen up with me. "I'm glad everyone's okay," he says. Then he gives me a stern look. "You, however, still have a strained back. I will dig up any book you want, and Reeve will cook you anything, but you are going back to bed."
I pout at him. "I'm fine. Got to exercise it out." He snorts and picks me up. "Hey!"
"Owen, could you please get the door?"
"Glad to."
"This is not fair," I protest. "Owen, you know I hate being trapped in bed!"
"So? As I recall, the last time you did this, Eilen offered to sit on you if you wouldn't stay there. I can always go get him."
"I hate you all." Tifa is only laughing, quite hard. "What's so funny?"
"You. They do listen to you if it's life and death, but when you're hurting yourself, you can't get anyone to help you." She grins. "Not even me."
I sulk in Vincent's arms (not an easy feat) most of the way up to my room. When he puts me on my bed, though, I can't repress a flinch when my back moves. "See? It feels worse when you exercise it," he says ruthlessly. "Now rest, or I'll sit on you." He plops down in his chair. "I'll stay right here, so don't think of escaping."
"You didn't get much sleep," I retort. "I'll wait till you fall asleep again."
"I don't need much sleep," was his calm reply. "You'll fall back asleep before I do." He takes a book from the shelf next to him and opens it, reading.
I try to continue sulking, but the mattress feels so much better than standing did, and Vincent is obviously trying not to laugh at me. "Go ahead and laugh," I say. "I'm being silly, but I really hate being bedridden."
He smiles. "I do, too. And you are being silly, but it's kind of-" He stops suddenly and blushes.
"Kind of what?" He ducks his head and doesn't answer. "Vincent, kind of what?" I pester him. "Come on, I won't leave you alone until you tell me!"
"You'll be offended," he protests weakly.
"I very much doubt it," I reply. "Tell, tell."
"All right, all right." He's crimson, and won't look at me. "It's kind of cute, okay?" I stare at him for a minute. "Stop looking at me like that!" he says and hides behind his book.
I say, lightly, "I'll have to stop teasing Owen about his methods. Being annoying really does work." I touch his knee, and he jumps. "Why are you blushing, Vincent? You were teasing me about my hips yesterday."
He mumbles something indistinct, and I cock my head at him. "I could tease you when you were dressed," he says irritably. I look down. The robe is covering everything that needs covering. He glances at me, then turns red again.
Light dawns. "I'm the leader of a bunch of boys that I've all trained in the wilderness with, Vincent," I say gently. "I've been naked in front of them dozens of times. I forgot it would make someone else uneasy. I spend too much time just with Scouts, I guess. I'm sorry. I would have been more modest last night, had I remembered."
He looks up at me. "It's not your fault," he says. "You were taking a bath."
I chuckle. "Fair enough. We'll blame Tifa for opening the door so wide, then. I don't know what her excuse is, though."
He meets my eyes. The red in his cheeks is fading, but he still looks embarrassed. "Sorry."
"Oh, hush. I don't get many people to tell me I'm cute, at any time," I say. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you." I lean over him to snag a book I see and have been meaning to read, and over balance and land in his lap. Now I'm the one who's blushing. "You can't think I planned that?" I say plaintively.
Vincent smiles and rights me, then freezes as we come eye to eye. His eyes are truly deep gold, and this is the first time I've had to get a good look at them. I am stunned, and my cobalt blue eyes are obviously having the same effect on him. "Um-" he starts. I put a finger gently over his lips, which are smooth and soft.
We stare at each other for another long moment, then he leans forward and kisses me. My arms come up around his neck, and his come up to stroke my hair. It's a very long kiss, and we're both breathless and confused when we stop. He sets me back on my bed with my book and just looks at me for a long time. "I'm sorry," he finally says. "You've been having a rough week, and I just took advantage of you, and-" I cut him off by kissing him.
When we stop again, I say, gently, "You are not taking advantage of me, Vincent. I've been taken advantage of." I blush. "It doesn't feel this good." He stares at me. "I didn't know that was going to happen any more than you did, but I'm not upset about it. Especially since you're such a good kisser," I add, turning even redder.
He laughs softly, saying in a low voice, "Am I?" This time, he comes over to the bed, and just strokes my hair, looking at me for a full minute at least before kissing me again, harder. When we part, he's on top of me, on the bed. "Oh, lord, Tera," he says, and, to my shock, buries his face in my hair and shakes. I hold him, realizing that I must be the first person he's kissed since Lucrecia.
Running my hands through his silky black hair, I murmur soothing words to him. When he looks up at me, I smile at him. "If anything, I'm taking advantage of you. I was lying here, annoying you, until you said something you didn't mean to."
Vincent laughs weakly. "That's an understatement," he says. "We shouldn't- I'm not-"
I hush him again. "We'll take it slowly," I tell him softly. "But don't tell me this isn't right, Vincent Valentine," I say, suddenly fierce. "I haven't felt anything like this in so long." Then I realize what had been in his eyes when he'd asked me about Damien last night. "Besides," I whisper to Vincent, "you're far enough gone to be jealous. You can't say it was just a passing fancy and make me believe you."
He blushes again, but doesn't pull away from my embrace. "I bought you the robe, too," he says. "I saw it when I was out wandering, and I thought you'd like it."
"I thought so," I say, with a little laugh. "It showed in Tifa's face, a little."
"I know. She's been telling me to tell you how I feel. I just met you, Tera. How can this happen so fast?" He holds me still, denying what he obviously wants.
"I don't ask, Vincent," I reply, pulling him closer. "I just know that this feels right, and that I knew when I woke up the other night and saw you at the door that something was going to happen. I didn't know it would be this, but I'm not complaining."
He laughs. "Everyone has noticed the change in me. I just thought it was because I'd found a friend."
"That, too," I say. "The best lovers are also friends." I kiss him again, forgetting my earlier promise to take it slow, seeing him looking at me with those eyes. When we part again, we hear soft laughter. Tifa is standing in the door, and she looks delighted.
"It's about damn time," she says. "I wasn't sure if I'd have to whack one of you over the head!"
I smile, and Vincent blushes again. "Oh, stop that. We're going to go out in public, eventually, and you won't hear the end of it if you don't stop going red at random." I brush his hair back from his forehead. "You have such soft hair."
"Thank you," he says softly, to me or Tifa, I can't tell. She only smiles and closes the door after her as she leaves.
I kiss him harder, reveling in the feel of his lips, the taste of him. "Oh, lord. Vincent, go back to your chair with your book," I whisper to him. "Before I throw self control completely out the door."
"Don't tempt me," he murmurs back, caressing one of my breasts, which has slid free in our enthusiastic kissing. I gasp, and he smiles, and goes back to his chair.
"Evil," I mutter to him, and he laughs.
"It's evil to make you feel good?" he asks, innocently.
"It is if you won't follow through," I say tartly.
"I told you, don't tempt me," he replies, trying to read.
Awww... I think they're cute. Anyway, that's it out of this batch. Two more to go!
