1-5. Potential Devotion
Many times, Lucrecia had silently thanked whomever it was who had installed a greenhouse in the Mansion. Tucked in an upstairs hallway, almost as far away as possible from the lab, it became a refuge on her infrequent days off. Almost no one visited there anymore, except for one of the Mansion's caretakers--and he was quite willing to turn the care of the greenhouse over to Lucrecia. She enjoyed spending time here, warmed by the sunlight that slanted through the glass, breathing in the smell of healthy green growing things, soothed by the silence, away from exhaust fans and traffic. It was peaceful, almost meditative.
Lucrecia filled a watering can at the faucet, mulling over her time in Nibelheim so far. She'd been there almost a month. The Project was going well, especially after her find yesterday--next week she'd start to culture more of the successful Project/human mutant cells and analyze them more fully. It was a good start to the week... but for now, she was content to spend a quiet Saturday alone, free from cell culturing and alien lifeforms and irritating supervisors.
She carried the full watering can to one side of the greenhouse and started to water the plants, one by one. The repetitive task led her mind to wander again.
What else was there to think about in Nibelheim, though? She could try hiking in the hills, if she could get the right equipment in town. She reminded herself to ask at the general store this week. But then again, it wasn't really safe to go into the hills alone. Maybe she could take one of the Turks... Lucrecia laughed quietly to herself, thinking of one of their perfectly suited bodyguards scaling the side of a mountain. But then again, it might be worth it...
Of course, her thoughts had returned--again--to this. After the non-incident in the pub last night, she had thought of him the whole way back to the inn...had dreamed about him... Dreamed about him! A stranger! And she, a sensible woman, a scientist, as rational as they come...
A soft knock on the door shattered her train of thought, and she wheeled around in surprise. For a moment she thought she was dreaming. Standing in the open door was the dark-haired Turk.
He said nothing for a moment, so she had time to take it all in and realize she wasn't dreaming. Maybe I'm being summoned to the lab, maybe there's something wrong...? she thought, but realized this could not be true. He was dressed in regular clothes, a white shirt and khaki pants--a sharp contrast to the dark Turk uniform. Lucrecia felt shabby, suddenly, in her gardening overalls, her hair left loose down her back. She felt a light flush creep up into her cheeks. Probably doesn't matter anyway, she thought. Just reporting some security breach...or maybe I'm finally being fired. But...he was off duty, by the looks of it. So why on earth was he here?
"Is there...something wrong, sir?" she managed to say, though her gaze dropped to the shelves of plants beside him.
The Turk frowned slightly, then shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I'm not on duty today." He slowly stepped forward, looking around at the plants. Lucrecia turned back to watering, self-consciously. She heard him say from behind her, quietly, almost as if to himself, "I'd heard there was a greenhouse here. It's lovely." He stood in front of the shelves of plants, looking down at them silently, though his eyes seemed a little unfocused, thoughtful. Lucrecia struggled to keep her concentration on the watering; she didn't want to kill the poor plants, even if...
She had worked her way around the circle of plants to where the Turk stood, and hesitated, wondering whether to ask him to move. Well, he seemed interested in the plants... She held up the watering can. "Would you like to take a turn?"
The Turk looked up, his reverie broken. "Oh...yes, thank you." He took the watering can from her, careful, it seemed, not to brush her hands, and started to sprinkle water on some of the plants.
"By the way..." Lucrecia ventured, clasping her hands behind her now that they were not occupied, "I'm Lucrecia Gainsborough. I'm working for Dr. Gast."
A ghost of a smile slipped over his face as he looked back up at her. "We're briefed on the Project and its members, Miss Gainsborough." He paused, a bit uncomfortably. "Mrs.?..."
"Oh, no, of course not!" She wondered whether the Turk were joking with her, but he seemed serious.
He nodded. "Though I don't see why you say it like that... Too busy with your work?"
He was serious, then. "It's...safe to say that that's one of the reasons, yes." A little more at ease now, Lucrecia looked around, found a small step-stool, and sat down on it. "I'm still in school, too, of course," she went on.
"That's true," the Turk answered. He continued to water the plants, picking up where he'd left off.
A few minutes went by; the young man seemed absorbed in the task, and showed no intention of speaking again. Lucrecia watched him for a while, but curiosity eventually got the best of her. "So...we aren't fully briefed on the Turks...it seems unfair."
"Why's that? There isn't much to know."
"Well...you knew who I was before you came here, but I don't even know your name."
He put the watering can down suddenly. "You don't? I suppose you don't. Please forgive my rudeness." He held his hand out to her. "Valentine. Vincent Valentine."
His name would be something like 'Vincent Valentine', Lucrecia thought wryly. She pretended to dust potting soil from her hands, making sure her palms weren't sweating, and shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Valentine."
"Vincent," he corrected.
"Vincent, then."
He nodded. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Gainsborough... may I call you Lucrecia, please?" The 'please' seemed to have slipped out unintentionally; it sounded strange, surprisingly eager. She wasn't sure how to respond to it, so she let it pass.
"That would be fine."
Vincent's smile was thin and a little sardonic, but genuine. It showed mostly in his eyes. He picked the can back up, but a trace of the smile remained on his face. He didn't seem very accustomed to happiness...
It was quiet for a while, as Vincent continued the watering, and Lucrecia watched thoughtfully. To her surprise, Vincent spoke first. "Do you take care of the greenhouse all the time?"
"Mostly, yes. The Mansion caretaker used to look after it, but I took it over not long after I came here. After we came here," she corrected, remembering that the Turks had accompanied them.
"You're not a botanist, are you?" he said thoughtfully. "No, the file said cellular..." He trailed off, as if uncertain of the terminology.
"Cellular biology and genetics," Lucrecia supplied. Vincent nodded. "That is my field...I never specialized in botany. I've just always liked it. It's what I started in, I guess."
Vincent finished the last plant and set the watering can down on the end of the shelf. Lucrecia half expected him to leave, but he sat down on the floor beside her and looked across the greenhouse, into the afternoon sky beyond the glass walls. He did not speak.
"What are you doing?" Lucrecia asked, a little nervously.
"Listening," he replied calmly. "When did you start in botany?"
"Well...in a way, before I can remember." Vincent had turned to watch her as she spoke, and she realized she felt a bit less self-conscious now. She almost liked it, actually... "I was a flower girl in Midgar," she explained.
"Really? One of those women who...go around selling baskets of flowers, in the upper city?"
"Right. Though I didn't go up there very often. See, we'd always been flower sellers; it was sort of the family business. My parents had a garden around their house...which is rare in the slums, as you probably know. As soon as I was old enough to walk, my mother took me out into the garden, and as I grew up I learned how to take care of the flowers. I raised them and cut them, and my mother and my younger sister sold them." She paused, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling on about myself..."
"No, it's quite all right. I'd like to hear it."
"Really?"
"Yes," he answered simply.
"Okay... that's about all, really. That garden was always my favorite place as a child. It wasn't too much, I suppose, not by Nibelheim standards or anyone else's standards, but in Midgar it seemed like paradise. We had to work hard to get the flowers to grow, and only a few kinds would grow at all, but that made it all the more valuable to us when they did grow. It made them...rarer, I suppose. And they were also evidence of all our work and all our caring..." She trailed off into thought, remembering the gardens of her youth. It wasn't so different from her field now, she thought, in a way. You wore yourself to distraction trying to coax something from the world, but when you finally succeeded...
Vincent's question quietly interrupted her thoughts. "When did you become interested in cellular biology instead?"
"When I tried it," she shrugged. "I was always good in science and math in school, and when I went to college I realized that there were a lot of great projects on the horizon in Cell. I'd always been good at it, of course; that wasn't the difficult part. And I loved the challenge, the battle of research."
"The battle? How so?"
"In research, especially in a big company like Shinra, you have to strive to stay one step ahead of the next company, the next team. One patent, one discovery, one experiment ahead. You have to be at the top of your game. You have to be the best. And...I found that I finally had the opportunity to be among the best."
"With Dr. Gast."
"Yes. He is the head of Shinra Research, after all...and a brilliant scientist. And the company is growing as well, as you know; we suspect within thirty years it will be the only leading multinational in the world. Shinra Research will rule the field of science."
"And you would like more than anything to be a part of that?"
"Yes."
"And there were no such advancements in botany?"
Lucrecia shrugged. "A few. Nothing competitive."
The young man thought for a minute. Lucrecia found herself wishing he would speak more; she wondered what went on in his mind. Curiosity? Scorn? Confusion? Disgust? Sympathy? "Are you happy?" he asked suddenly, shocking her out of her thoughts. "You haven't given up the field you love for ambition?"
"Of...course I'm happy," she replied blankly, then regained her composure. "I love the field I chose, and I'm doing very well in it. It's a great honor to have been chosen for this project. No, I'm happy."
Vincent nodded. "I'm glad... Though there's nothing wrong with ambition inherently. In fact, I admire it; I have no ambition myself."
"Oh, surely you have to," she insisted.
"No."
Lucrecia waited for his explanation, and received none. She hesitated, wondering if it would offend him to ask about it. Of course, curiosity got the best of her. "You don't have any goals at all? Why are you working for Shinra?"
"It's a job," he shrugged. "It fits my talents well, and it pays well."
"That's all? You're not interested in..." She considered what a Turkly ambition might be. "...becoming the leader of the Turks, or something?"
"Not in the slightest." He looked up at her, a spark of cynicism in his eyes. "Why, do you have an eye on Dr. Gast's job?"
Lucrecia smirked. "Off the record?"
"Of course."
"Not Gast's. Hojo's."
"Really." Lucrecia thought he looked impressed; it was a bit hard to tell. He didn't show any emotion clearly, apparently. It all seemed muted, restrained. "Too much respect for Gast, I assume."
"Yes. I mean, when he finally retires--which I hope isn't soon, he's one of the best scientists Shinra has ever had--I would like to head the department...but I wouldn't take it from him. Vice, now...I could do well as the vice-chair."
"Hojo's present position, right?" Vincent clarified.
"Right. Not only would I love the chance to work with Dr. Gast...but I don't think Hojo is fit for the position. Actually, I don't think Hojo is fit for any position...you didn't hear that," she said hurriedly.
"Of course not."
"Besides... well, Hojo is a brilliant scientist. I'll give him that. And he has great aspirations for the company, in a way. But he's..." She searched for the right word.
"...morally bankrupt," Vincent suggested.
"Yes. I was thinking something more along the lines of 'deficient', but 'bankrupt' will work."
Vincent nodded. "I've noticed his attitude toward humanity. It's hard to miss."
"I can't figure him out," mused Lucrecia, "even after almost six weeks here. It's as if...there's a part missing from him, some component of his humanity has been left out. I think he was born without the capacity to care about any living thing other than himself."
The Turk did not reply; the silence deepened, pressing around them. Just before Lucrecia meant to ask what was wrong, he spoke. "Be careful how you accuse," he said quietly. "I've been told the same thing about myself."
"You? Why would anyone say that?"
"Because, to an extent, it's true."
"But..." She trailed off, unable to express the thought: It's not true. It can't be true. I won't let it...
His voice slowly chilled as he began to speak. "With all due respect, Lucrecia, you know very little about me. I'm a Turk, first of all, and with that comes a certain necessity for...how did you put it... 'moral deficiency'. Second of all, yes, it is true: technically, there is no living thing I care about at the moment other than myself." He paused, a little painfully, as if the statement had been difficult to admit. "However, unlike Hojo, I believe that my condition is not permanent. It's not that I don't care about other people; it's that, at this point, I have no one to care about. Though that makes little sense to most people. They have no use for potential devotion, apparently." He pulled one knee up to his chest, wrapping his arms around it defensively. "So although I have the same capacity for humanity as anyone--more than some people, I daresay--I am judged as inhuman, an equal of Hojo's, because of my circumstances and my occupation."
Lucrecia was stunned for a moment, confused by the sudden outburst, unsure of how to react. She fought a score of clashing impulses--contradict him? Ask about his circumstances? How can I say that? Or should I not question him at all?... Finally, lacking any words at all, she hesitantly unfolded her hands from her lap and laid a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly--she hoped it was comforting. Vincent looked up at her sharply, but his dark eyes were hard to read; she saw only surprise and a trace of suspicion. He looked down again, not stopping her, not encouraging her.
"So you...you really have no one?"
"No," he answered quietly. "Not at present."
"Family?"
"No."
"Wife, sweetheart...?"
He held up one hand to show her that he wore no rings, then dropped it. "No."
"Friends?"
Vincent chuckled caustically. "Have you ever spoken to the average Turk?"
Lucrecia stifled a giggle. "I guess you're right."
Neither spoke for a minute or so; Lucrecia watched him thoughtfully, wishing she could help to pull him from whatever dark place he'd fallen into... "Would you consider...me?"
She felt his back stiffen a little under her hand. "For which category?" he asked cautiously, but she heard something else under it as well...curiosity? Disbelief?
Interest?
Lucrecia tried to ignore her suddenly racing heart. "To which category may I apply, sir?" she asked, hoping that the facetious tone would mask the tremble in her voice.
Vincent looked up at her, and the joking vanished. Not just interest, she realized.
Fascination? How...?
He asked quietly, "For you? I think..." He looked away. "Everything."
Lucrecia froze, her hand drawing away from him in shock. Vincent turned, and though his pained eyes met hers for a moment he must have misinterpreted the gesture. He struggled to his feet, a little clumsily, muttering apologies. "I'm sorry, Miss Gainsborough...what made me think I could--"
"No! Wait." Lucrecia leaped to her feet after him. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I was just surprised." He paused, listening. "Well...stunned is a better word for it." She sighed, running her fingers back through her hair. "Um, I'm not handling this well. Sorry."
"No, it's quite all right," Vincent replied, dusting off his clothes and appearing to regain his composure. "Thank you for showing me the greenhouse; it's very beautiful."
"Thank you... you're welcome... I mean..." She blushed a little. "It's not much, really."
"By whose standards?" he asked, and she realized that the question did not require an answer.
"Thank you," she admitted again. "So...I'm off most Saturdays, if you'd like to come again. I'll be here."
He smiled, openly this time, and Lucrecia felt her face grow warmer by a fraction. "I would be honored to visit again," he replied. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Gains... Lucrecia."
"The pleasure is mine, Vincent." She stepped forward to shake his hand again, fighting the impulse to slip her arms around him--as if he wouldn't notice! she scolded herself.
Vincent took her hand in both of his, but did not shake it; he simply clasped her hand for a moment and let go. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye," Lucrecia replied weakly, as he left the way he came.
