They reached Kalm just as the sun was beginning to set over the old fashioned town. Vincent had made his home here temporarily, though he'd chosen to relocate to Edge after the Omega incident. It helped to know his friends were nearby, even if he chose not to partake of their company. That was around the time he'd decided to reapply to the Turks. It hadn't been a sudden decision; in fact, he had let the idea simmer for over a month before finally penning his resume.

Upon handing it in, he'd been given a thick test booklet to fill out. The tests had been simple enough for him – mostly multiple choice questions on what to do in various situations. It covered everything from weapon maintenance to taking a bullet for the president. He was certain his score must have been above average… which is why it came as such a shock to him when he'd received his resume back in the mail with a large red stamp across the front page which red, simply, 'DECLINED.'

There had, of course, been a pre-printed letter attached, thanking him for his interest and wishing him the best in all his future endeavors – the same letter they sent all non-qualified applicants. Not the kind of letter Vincent Valentine would expect to receive. He'd waited two weeks before calling Reeve about his denial. The rest was history.

Vincent stared up at the window of what had been his room at the inn for nearly a year. It had been a wasted year, he now realized. It had been a year he could have spent with friends, with Yuffie. Instead, he had occupied that time dwelling on the past and reveling in self-hate.

As Yuffie's hand slid gently into his, he was pulled out of the dark thoughts. He looked down and smiled at her then.

"You were doing it again," she said.

Vincent shrugged. "It may be something you'll have to excuse from time to time. I am trying, but it's… difficult to change."

Yuffie squeezed his hand comfortingly. "It doesn't bother me," she said more quietly. "I'm only worried about you. I don't want you to feel sad…"

For a moment, he couldn't find his voice. A smile forced its way into view. How had he gone so long without her?

"You needn't worry, Yuffie. I'm happier than I've been in a very long time."

Yuffie's face fell slightly. So slightly, nobody else would have noticed. Vincent shook the thought away, storing it for later.

A moment later, Reno approached. "Well, there's a boat leaving for the Northern Continent in an hour. I say we grab some drinks and kick back while we wait."

Yuffie jumped into the air excitedly. "Woohoo! Par-tay!"

Vincent chuckled in his throat and nodded. "Just remember we're on a job," he said as they headed toward the bar. Yuffie and Reno turned to him innocently. "I'm just saying, we should drink… conservatively."

Reno laughed and slapped Vincent on the back, a little too hard. "Relax, Gramps. We'll have a good time."

There was something in his tone Vincent didn't like, but Yuffie seemed oblivious as she threw open the double doors and headed into the bar. Inside, it was dimly lit. Most of the tables were occupied by locals and travelers, and a low hum of intermingling conversations filled the place.

"You guys grab a table," Reno said cheerfully. "I'll get the first round."

"First round?" Vincent asked. But Reno was already gone. Yuffie pointed to the nearest table.

"This one's empty."

Vincent sighed. "Very well."

The new couple sat close together at the circular table awaiting their drinks. Reno was back in a few moments, balancing three glasses.

For himself, he'd ordered something strong on the rocks. For Yuffie, something pink and fruity. Before Vincent, he placed an average sized glass of pale beer.

"How's that for conservative?" he muttered with a gleam in his eyes. Vincent tasted the beer without answering. It was bitter, and not his taste, but there was no point in being rude.

Yuffie took a couple long pulls off her straw, then clapped her hands together. "Wow!" she squealed. "That's a stiff drink."

Reno sipped at his, and shrugged. "Oh, is it? I told them to take it easy with the alcohol. Oh well." Again, his gaze met Vincent's, and suddenly his motives were clear. He glared back at the Turk and took a long swig of the sour beer to spite him.

"So, Yuffie. How do you like your drink?" Reno slid his chair a few inches closer to Yuffie, ignoring Vincent's hard stare.

"It's good. Maybe a little strong."

Reno flashed a million dollar smile. "Ah, don't worry. You deserve to let loose a little, don't you think?"

Yuffie giggled. "Yeah, I guess. It's been a while." Again her lips went around the straw and another inch of the pink liquid disappeared from her glass.

Suddenly the lights went down and a dance song came over the speakers.

"Oh, hell ya!" Reno shouted. "Hey, guys, let's hit the floor!"

Yuffie turned excitedly to Vincent. "What do you say?" she asked. He could smell the booze on her breath already.

"I don't dance," he replied stiffly.

"Too bad," Reno whined. "Mind if I fill in for a while?"

Vincent grit hit teeth together so tightly he thought they might crack under the stress. Then he looked at Yuffie.

She leaned toward him. "Only if it's okay with you," she whispered.

Like a charm, Vincent felt his shoulders relax. He trusted Yuffie, didn't he?

"Have fun," he replied, trying to sound up beat.

"Thanks," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Just one song. I haven't danced in for-ever!"

With that, Reno whisked Yuffie off to the dance floor, leaving Vincent to stew in his jealousy. Out of curiosity, he reached for Yuffie's drink and sniffed the fruity concoction. Fruit was the last thing he smelled. It was clearly loaded with alcohol, masked by sweet mixers – and even then, its potency was obvious.

"Damn you, Reno," he muttered under his breath as he set the glass down again. Everything made sense now. Reno hadn't made a big deal when he'd found out they were together. It had been a shock then, but now it was clearly just a ruse. Now he was buying stiff drinks for Yuffie, inviting her to dance, and Gaia knew what he might try next.

With a throaty growl that could not be heard over the pounding beats of the dance music, Vincent threw back his chair and left the table. Like a shadow, he slipped through the crowd surrounding the dance floor, rainbow colored lights spinning and strobing overhead in time with the music.

The floor was packed with young couples, but Vincent's sharpened senses located Yuffie immediately. Reno was already making himself at home, resting one hand on Yuffie's hip and holding her a little too closely.

It's all part of the dance, Vincent tried to assure himself. Yuffie is having a good time. I can't spoil it for her.

The song ended and Yuffie immediately stepped away from Reno. Vincent let a breath of relief escape him, but the feeling was short lived. Even as Yuffie tried to leave the floor as she'd promised, another song began playing. Reno's hand went around Yuffie's wrist, pulling her back. She stumbled and fell against the Turk who was quick to take advantage of the accident.

Reno smiled handsomely down at Yuffie as his arms fell around her. He found the rhythm of the new song and coaxed her body to comply. Yuffie shook her head, trying to pull away, but Reno only held her closer. Over the music, even Vincent couldn't hear what was being said, but Yuffie's face expressed great upset. Reno said something back to her then, and she smiled. With a nod, she held up a finger, as if to say, "Okay, just one more dance."

Vincent could practically feel his heart breaking. Although he told himself it was a minor offense, he could not help feeling betrayed. Without thinking, he pushed his way back through the crowd. Scooping his beer off the table as he passed it, he stormed through the doors.

The cool night air was something of a relief. He glanced over his shoulder before sitting down on the cold stone steps and taking a long drink. He could hear passersby commenting about him. "Is that the Vincent Valentine?" they asked. "I wonder what's wrong." "Maybe we should go talk to him."

Vincent could feel the heat of his inner demons welling within him, and knew his eyes would betray the rage. There were too many people. If he caused a scene of any kind, word would surely spread back to Edge – and to the powers that be, to whom he must prove himself worthy of rejoining the Turks.

His eyes scanned the area, looking for a less conspicuous place to brood. In the end, the roof of the bar seemed the best option. He made his way up the side of the old building and crouched lithely on the blue tiled roof.

The breeze, stronger at this height, pulled at his hair and cape. Slowly he closed his eyes and practiced the breathing exercises he'd learned all those years ago when training to become a Turk. He could almost hear his instructor's voice guiding him now.

"You've got a lot of passion, Valentine, but when you're in the field, you have to stay cool. In a fight, only one thing matters. Concentrate on your objective. Everything else is a distraction."

Datsun had lost an eye and two fingers during his service to ShinRa. But he'd also been the most highly decorated and most honored member the Turks had ever employed. It had been a dream come true for Vincent to train under the old master. Even the memory of his voice helped guide him to his center now. He focused on the old memories, letting them soothe him.

As his master instructed, he pushed the distractions from his mind. Only they wouldn't go… Not entirely.