A/N: No, I'm not done with DW but, people need distractions and I need motivation so I asked Tumblr and the general consensus was that I should post what I have, as I have it. SO! Here we are, back with updates. There are, at this time, three more chapters done so you'll have that, minimum. Hopefully more. Do enjoy.

They talked.

It should be prefaced that Veld was not a talker, and neither was Elfé, but for once, the motivation was there. They were both desperate to bridge the gap between them, reaching blindly and letting themselves dare to hope they could meet in the middle.

Veld was not especially good at hope, either. He dealt in facts, and the facts here were not promising. But, how could he do anything but try?

So they talked. Halting, at first. Careful. Cautious. They didn't know each other, and with every moment it was clearer to Veld that she was most definitely not Felicia anymore. Felicia had always reminded him of Jess, sweet as pie with an impish streak a mile wide.

Elfé, though… Elfé reminded him of him, him at his most iron willed, bullheaded, digging-my-heels-in stubborn. If she hadn't wanted this so bad, he didn't doubt he wouldn't have gotten anywhere with her. She had his stubbornness, his stoicness, his sternness, and by the gods he was the most conflicted combination of proud and exasperated right then. He'd said more than once, when Vincent had joked about being glad there was only one of him, that he'd probably have shot any duplicate; he didn't want to deal with himself, and the irony was crushing.

Especially because it made things… difficult, when it came to going forward.

He caught her flexing her hand stiffly, and took the only opening he was likely to get. "What do you know about that materia?"

It was clear she was caught off guard, and immediately on the defensive. "…not as much as I'd like."

A safe answer that told him very little indeed. "I did some digging, when we found your files. It's a fraction of the summon Zirconiade, and Hojo has somehow managed to fuse it so it ties directly into your magic stores."

"Which gives me my strength?" She nodded slightly at his hum of confirmation. "I suppose that makes sense."

"But it comes at a price," Veld said, watching. "I've been consulting with several mages and physicians about the effects of long sustained magic use. Familiar with any of that?"

"I'm not a fan of magic," she said, lips quirking in a wry smile. "Ironic, I realize."

"…you come by it honest," Veld said dryly. "But fair enough. Suffice to say, there are dangerous long-term effects of magic use, and the more powerful the magic, the more dangerous. It starts simple, mental and physical fatigue, but it can lead to addiction, and put you at higher risk of heart problems. And in your case, since the materia is constantly attempting to cast without your conscious effort… it would bleed you dry of energy, and eventually, your life."

Elfé stared at him a long moment in silence, flexing her hand. From her grim expression, she believed him, which was a tremendous relief; it would save them trouble. "It sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."

"My daughter's life is on the line," Veld said mildly. "I've never taken anything more seriously in my life."

She smiled faintly, but there was something guarded in her gaze. It immediately put a low feeling of dread in Veld's stomach. "I'm not Felicia."

"No, you're not," Veld said. "Talking to you has made that clear. But you're still my daughter."

"I think you're a little late to take care of me," she said, dark eyes watching him closely. "I'm a grown woman, Father. And we walk very different paths."

It hurt, all the more knowing she was right. "That doesn't stop me from caring. And if you didn't care, you wouldn't have sought me out."

"Can't a woman be curious?" she asked.

"You've got too much on the line to meet me over a little curiosity," Veld said.

She hummed softly, leaning back casually in her chair. "You're awfully sure of yourself."

"You think I got in my position without a background in psychology?" It was one of the few classes he hadn't minded early on, actually.

She mirrored the gesture. "Oh, so you're analyzing me. That's so much better."

Veld snorted. Gods, it was like looking at himself, but half his age and twice as cocky. "I don't need to analyze you. It's like looking into a slightly distorted mirror."

"I am nothing like you," she snarled.

"Hyper competent? Loyal to your people, even at risk to yourself? Willing to sacrifice, kill, and die for what you believe in?" Veld stared her down. "Or did you mean intelligent, a little too serious, and a lot too stubborn?"

Elfé pursed her lips. "You work for ShinRa."

"And you're an ecoterrorist," he said. "Not the most likely of pairs, I admit. But we're more alike than you want to admit, and not admitting it changes nothing. Felicia was a daddy's girl and just like her mama. You're more like me, by far, and clearly hate the fact. But it's still true."

She glowered at him. "I don't have to listen to this. Whatever game you're playing, it's not going to work."

He wanted to snap back, to rise to the tone and give as good as he'd gotten, but he realized that wasn't going to get him anywhere he wanted to be. If he drove a wedge between them now, the damages might be irreparable; he wouldn't - couldn't - take the risk.

A deep breath, and he held a hand up. "We're not here to argue. It doesn't help either of us."

Elfé was still glaring, but inclined her head, conceding his point. All wasn't lost, then.

"I care," Veld said softly. "Whether you do or not. Whether you want me to or not. I don't want you to die, and I can't help but think you're too much of a survivor to want to die either."

There, finally a smile, even if it was little more than a crook in the corner of her mouth. "I have no intention of dying any time soon."

"Then you need help," Veld said. "It doesn't have to come from me, but I do have better resources."

"Resources that would help the head of AVALANCHE?" she asked skeptically. "Or resources that would help the daughter of a Turk? I don't think I need to tell you which I identify as."

"Resources that have taken an oath to help people, regardless of who they are," Veld said.

"Uh huh." She arched a brow. "You can't think I plan to just walk into the ShinRa building. There's more relevant threats to my life there than this materia."

"It's your best chance," he said. "You have to admit, if ShinRa knows anything it's mako and materia."

"And how to murder the opposition," she said smoothly. "You want me there on what, faith? That you'll suddenly be able to keep me safe?"

And she had his talent for hitting unerringly at her opponent's sore spots, too. He let her see it hit, and saw a mix of surprise and grim satisfaction. "I know 'I'm sorry' is too little, too late. I let you down, in the worst way possible. I failed you as a father. No one knows that better than me. No one has thought about it more than me."

"And you want a second chance," she said.

"Who doesn't?" Veld shook his head. "Maybe you don't need or want a father. Fine, I can respect that. Maybe you don't want me in your life at all. Fine. It's enough to know you're alive. Let me help keep you that way."

"And what will you do, I wonder, when the men holding your leash send different attack dogs after me?" She asked softly. "What would you do if you had to choose between me, and one of your Turks?"

"Because of course it'll come to that, won't it?" Veld said, turning it back on her. "You're in too deep and can't admit that there's even a chance of change on the wind. That there could be a difference with someone else in charge."

"Can there?" she asked. "Can one person change an entire company - an entire empire - on a cultural level?"

"It's more than one person," Veld admitted. "And no, I'm not giving you classified details. Not yet. Not just to maybe win you over. But suffice to say this has been a long time in coming, and there are a lot of big players aligned to change. It won't happen instantly. It can't happen instantly. But it can happen. And it will."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," she said mildly.

"I guess you'd know," Veld said.

"And yet you want to 'save' me," she said.

"Of course I do," Veld said.

Elfé shook her head. "There was a little girl who desperately needed her father, Veld, and you were right. She died. I don't need you, and I don't need your help."

"Elfé -" He paused, hearing the distinct, subtle click of a gun being readied, and swore. He'd let his guard down.

Shears came in from an attached room, gun trained on Veld and far too close to miss. "We done here, Elfé?"

From her expression, she hadn't expected him to be there; cold comfort, to think that maybe he hadn't been set up, when he was still staring down the barrel of a gun.

Then it closed off entirely and she nodded briskly. "We are."

"Elfé, wait -" He couldn't help but try, not with the sinking feeling that if she left, he'd never get this chance again.

"If you loved her, let me go," she said softly, heading for the door, Shears trailing behind her with his gun fixed on Veld like he thought that after all this he'd actually do something to her.

Her hand closed around the doorknob and turned, and they both promptly collapsed.