The Flame of You

by Kittie Darkhart

Yuffie begins a relentless journey to find Reno. Along the way, she meets up with a former Avalanche member ahem, Vincent. Can she be true to her infatuation with Reno or does she love someone else?

20. And Then I Realized

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, characters, places, etc. All rights belong to Square and their respected owners.

The Flame of You

Chapter 20

Minute flecks of light darted across the darkened atmosphere, showing a wonderful contrast between neutral shades. Silence fell to deaf ears as more illumination penetrated the darkness like some heroic victor within a fairytale. Nothing within the ethereal-like surroundings held a comforting aura, it was more like a gradual dissipation of a foreboding presence yet to appear within the scattered sphere.

Shadows fell, shielding themselves within the corners of the room like frightened children. The harsh rays of light beat against the opposing shade, as if it were nothing more than a useless, tattered rug. The damning touch burned away dark flesh, ceasing its strive for existence.

Alleged sanctity echoed throughout the empty space as the final remnants of ebony burned away within the stale air. Light was the only occupant within the room. Its cruel dominance radiated throughout, seeking all to bend to its callous will. The effort---was not too hard to accomplish.

And within this enclosed sphere, materialized two shadows that contrasted all else within the soundless void. White fury cascaded against the opposition, as if refusing to lose against something so insignificant. With pallid hands fiery ire, the illuminate sent another barrage of white fire. Alas, the shadows remained.

Perseverance fully remained with the lighter side. Offense was executed incessantly with the aspiration of absolute victory. The lonely barricade between the conflicting beings lingered until the final obstruction was broken.

Light seemed…personified as it gained an expression of defeat. Aquatic orbs gazed impassively at the two shadows, silently cursing their damnable victory. This was not supposed to happen.

No, light---true righteousness---was always the conqueror in the end---not the irrelevant enemy. Darkness was always the weaker of the two. How could it prevail when the final chapter was written? No, it could not. It could never find itself the true holder of balance, when light held that title since the primordial beginning of time.

But, the shaded element conquered its embodied foe. Impossible, yes, but damn well desirable. Truly, the tables had turned, and for the greater good. If only it were to last… Peace between two conflicting beings was always hard to obtain.

If only…

Cerulean-eyes opened with apprehensive appeal. The burning orbs registered the slant of light entering the temperate room. A lavender scent lingered within the cool air, resting its lush fragrance under its occupants nose. Something felt…out of place, awkward.

And yet, nothing was amiss. Except…

The cold sheets next to her proved as much. Vincent. Where was he? She could not recall him leaving her side during her conflicted slumber. Even now, her arcane dream seemed to fade from her sharp memory. The strange meaning of her subtle reverie somewhat addled her. What exactly did it mean? Was there an underlying meaning behind the clouded vision? Or, was it merely a simple hallucination?

Prophetic dreams were a little hard to comprehend when the world explained the existence of humans. Really, the idea of a living, thinking, breathing human being evolving from particles within a primordial soup, and into what he was today was easier to believe than in an invisible god.

Science was indeed the highlight of man's simple existence.

Yuffie cast aside the thought. One her age did not consider boring topics such as the existence of man, and the breakthroughs in the scientific field---they merely accepted it as fact. And that was where many took everything they encountered for granted. Even she believed in the alleged truths that had all been but uttered. How foolish and naïve she still was…

Echoing footsteps within the hall interrupted the brief interlude of self-examination. The immense corridor, although built for complacent space, still had the unnerving affect of unnecessary sounds. Luxurious hotels were built for comfort, not for constant disturbances. Oh well, nothing was perfect.

She focused her sight upon the vacant bedside. Where was he? Did he have some early business to attend to? Surely not since he did not have any holdings in Icicle Village. Or, did he? Even though he had shared some painful secrets of his past, it did not constitute the others he might have. Were there other things he was hiding from her? Never. Vincent was too honest, too respectful to hide something.

Besides, there were other things one could occupy their morning with, like getting ready for… Oh God!

Vincent's aloof expression quickly faded when he watched his beloved clamour out of the mass of tangled sheets and stumble to the wardrobe. Oaken doors were forced aside as a pair of ivory hands invaded the idle garbs. Neatly pressed clothes were tossed aside, wrinkling into a massive heap upon the wooden floor. The small pile abruptly melded into an enormous mound of sweaters, skirts, and other, various feminine attire.

The gunman forced himself to stifle his humour from the frantic sight. Really, one would believe the great heiress of Wutai would not trouble herself over such feminine attributes. Yuffie was not another chit that favoured herself with luxurious outfits and intoxicating perfumes. However, it was still entertaining to see her excavate through her wardrobe. Women.

"Did you need any help?" He asked, barely containing his laughter.

Yuffie looked into his amused-eyes, pulling a discarded blouse from her ruffled hair. "Would you?"

Vincent gently exhaled as he pulled the disheveled princess from the angered mass of garments. "What were you searching for anyway?"

The light quickly faded from her bright-eyes. Sooner or later she would have to confess her lack of a gown. Really, one did not think of brining formal attire when dragging someone home. Giving in, she muttered, "I was looking for…a dress. I thought I had one to fit the occasion, but…I don't."

Reality dimmed within his claret orbs. Of course, that was why she was turning their room into a twisted remake of Dante's Inferno. Vincent silently shook his ebon mane. Silly princess.

"Then, perhaps we should look for a suitable dress?" A sable brow rose in question.

Traceable hope died within her placid gaze. Shaking her unruly mop of russet, she murmured, "No, it's probably too late to purchase one…" Her mind trailed back to the lovely gown in Icicle Village. Most likely, it was already taken for the very purpose. "Besides, alterations and fitting take time, it cannot be done within a moment's notice."

"Very perceptive of you, Yuffie. However, do not always assume something is definite. Who knows something may already be in your horizon."

The young heiress was not even going to ponder upon his strange analogy. Taking it as granted, she continued with, "And I suppose my 'horizon' is clear and vacant of storms?"

A curt nod answered her sardonic query. "Come." He uttered, his hand grasping hers. "Let us hence!"

"Vincent!" She tried to shout before being literally lugged out of the chaotic room. Alas, her protests were unheard by her oblivious captor as he hauled her down the tiled halls. In that prospect, Vincent appeared to be almost infantile, childlike.

His blissful ignorance was a wonderful evasion from the harsh reality that had been her life. This elated prevarication would hopefully refrain from ending. Really, a sarcastic ex-assassin was certainly better than…

Yuffie refused to dampen her mood with the thought. Besides, she had to focus upon what, or actually, where he was taking her. What was he planning now? Last night's escapade was certainly surprising. Vincent's idea of a romantic evening surely leveled itself upon old-fashioned, but romantic nonetheless. Last night was… She could not even find the correct word for it.

Gods, if only she could turn back the hands of time and relive each torturing, tantalizing moment persistently, until time ceased to exist. Reviving each possible outcome was far too tempting. However, the vexing question that resided within the back of her mind troubled her. Would this last? Would everything she felt and experienced with Vincent endure after the ball?

She was straying from her mission to retrieve Reno and bring him home. Actually, she secretly ended her daunting task on the Eastern Continent. Not telling Vincent her considerations was somewhat dishonest, but in a subtle way, it appeared he knew her intentions.

The demonic gunman never mentioned, Reno, actually, he dispersed from the subject. The cold, malicious glare when the fiery Turk was mentioned never emerged. Vincent's palled features remained calm and jubilant, except when people stared at them in mockery.

It didn't matter, though. People could mock and ridicule their company with interminable pleasure. Time stood still when they were together. Nothing within their sphere seemed to matter when their eyes locked and spoke silent, unending volumes of love and desire. Hearts palpitated rapidly as soundless words were exchanged. She knew he loved her. Even without it being uttered within earshot, she knew his feelings were mutual.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle caress against her smooth cheek. Looking up, she noticed a slight glimmer of mischief within his bloody-eyes. Cocking a russet brow, she asked, "Vincent, what is going on in that disturbed mind of yours?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing, love." He whispered innocently, pecking the back of her hand with his leathery-lips.

"And for some reason, I must doubt your word."

Vincent's cavalier smile faded as a mock frown took its place. "I'm hurt, truly." He replicated a sob before wiping a false tear from a crimson eye. "Your viperous words sting with fatal poison, my dear. Be sure to know what you're trying to destroy."

The subtle omen did not faze her. Instead, she locked her eyes with his, undaunted. "Don't profess to lecture me with your morose advice, Valentine. I can settle for tragic bards that hold more appeal."

"Really?" An unbelieving eyebrow lifted in apparent amusement. "Then why don't we read a few of those ancient excerpts? Surely, you can handle another display of tragedy on stage. Or, we could always… Yes, that seems to be more enticing, contrary to what I had in mind…"

His demonic-eyes retained a more malevolent gleam, opposed to the mischievous impression minute's prior. Yuffie's heart pounded against her chest as she gazed into the darkening orbs. Something akin to anticipation filled her, teased her, as his brazen claw wound itself around her bare arm. "Vincent?" She questioned before he guided her into an alien corridor.

Excitement coursed through his dead veins as he led her down another set of stairs. The winding case felt like an endless decent into an unknown void below its steel steps. Light clinging echoed within the enclosed area, when darkness enveloped the couple's plunge within its ebony embrace.

Yuffie's desperate gaze into the obscure void failed when the last trace of light left her sight. Utter darkness. Temporary blindness clouded her daunted vision; the feeling was certainly unnerving. Even as a child, she was trained not to fear the darkness, but welcome it as a friend.

Ninjas trained endless hours blindfolded--she was not an exception. However, the loss of sight was merely temporary when one pulled the obscurity from their aching-eyes. The very thought of losing her sight permanently was inconceivable. Without sight, she could---would---never fully enjoy the pleasures of life. She would be reverted to a useless pile of flesh and sinew without the natural sense.

And yet, it did not feel so terrible when she felt Vincent's fingers entwine around hers. Perhaps she could survive without it if she could still sense him around her. Besides, this little venture within total darkness was provisional---he would not shut her in the deepening void permanently.

Her thoughts ended, albeit briefly when she noticed a slant of light ahead. The white beam increased with each of passing step. Darkness receded from their side as Vincent ushered her onward. The young heiress did not need a second invitation.

Proceeding toward the blinding shaft of light, she tightened her grip around Vincent's enclosed hand. Her sudden gesture caused him to glance at her with apparent bemusement. Shaking her head, she revealed a wry grin. "What do you have planned, Vincent?"

She received not answer.

Instead, he turned his attention toward their perceptible destination and nodded his dark head in obvious consent. "We'll be there shortly. Remember my admiration of your undaunted patience? I do hope it lingers for a moment longer."

Biting back her comment, she conceded to his eccentric whim. What else could she do when his mute manner surfaced? Really, one would believe his austere personality would be obsolete when he smiled. Flawless features and smooth skin be damned. Before the end, she would destroy the last barrier of indifference with sheer pleasure.

And that would be the end of the coldhearted ex-assassin she had once feared. In his place, would be the true owner of the body in front of her. And his cocky elegance; would be all the sweeter.

Her gratifying thoughts were interrupted by a gentle squeeze. "We're here." Her companion gently murmured.

The young Shinobi blindly followed the dark gunman like a sightless disciple in hope of an illicit miracle. Their footsteps echoed within the vast corridor, the darkness biting at their heels. With a gentle shove, Vincent ushered Yuffie to a set of slender, metal steps. Taking her hand, he gently guided her up the vertical ladder.

Yuffie ascended without question, feeling his firm hand grasp the side of her lithe waist, the claw clutching the metal bar before it. She silently questioned his sense of balance, but immediately cast it aside. This was Vincent. Explanation past that would be useless---it was better to take his abnormal agility for granted.

Her head came in contact with something firm, wooden, and hard. "Ouch! I swear to Odin! What in Materia's name was that?"

A quiet chuckle quickly ended when she elbowed her amused lover. "It's not that funny! You did this on purpose, didn't you? You wanted me to bump my head!" She accused with malicious intent.

"Actually, I didn't, Yuffie. I thought you would notice the closed trapdoor and open it. I didn't think you would have your eyes elsewhere, love."

She snorted with mock disdain. "Yeah, I was keeping my eyes on the next step so I wouldn't fall."

"You know that I would have caught you if you did, my hand was on your waist."

"All the more reason I keep my eyes on the steps! If I fell, then your heroic save would have ended with a very heavy princess on top of you! I'm certain you could endure my weight and kiss concrete at the same time."

"First off, you're not that heavy, and secondly, the fall would be worth it. Besides, kissing concrete is nothing, when you can endure sudden collisions. Being a demon has its advantages, I suppose…"

Yuffie read the sudden lament within his fiery orbs. Not again. Vincent would not berate himself again with this inner-conflict of good and evil. Not today. Not ever.

Shaking her head in subtle defiance, she met his hypnotic gaze. "And I'm glad of it, Vincent. How else could you protect a clumsy idiot such as myself? It's good to know someone you care for has the ability to protect you."

Vincent silently expressed gratitude with a simple kiss on her palm. Her loving emendation was certainly appreciated. Without her persistent loyalty and understanding, he would not be able to survive, or rather, accept who he was. Even now, he struggled with the fact of sharing his body with mindless demons. And without her welcoming light, he would indulge himself once more in mindful, attempts of selfish oblivion.

"Open the latch, Yuffie." He murmured within her ear.

Blindly, she obeyed, pushing the wooden access forward. Violet light crashed against her bare flesh as she pulled herself upon the upper level. Holding out a slender arm, she helped her compatriot from the claustrophobic shaft.

Her eyes squinted briefly from the harsh, florescent beams of lilac, until finally adjusting to the semi-familiar surroundings. Her cerulean gaze focused upon the myriad of vacant seats, the vast space within the immense room, and finally, the wooden dais. Good God, it was the theatre.

How did he know the layout of something so newly constructed? He couldn't possibly, could he?

A moment of doubt filled her as she turned to meet his opulent gaze, seeing a light trace of contentment within the bloody orbs. "How did you…" was the only statement that escaped her bemused voice. She refused to speak her thoughts, knowing he depended upon more than mere intuition.

He quietly took her into his arms, embracing her like the tragic Odin before setting off to his inevitable demise. "You know how I did it, Yuffie. Say it…"

"Your inhuman senses…"

With a hesitant nod, he silently commended her. A brief smile broached his pallid-lips as he raked his human hand through sepia strands of locks. "Yes…" He whispered with ensured restraint. "I depended upon my animalistic sagacity to navigate through that darkened maze, considering it was my first time venturing through it."

She accredited him a curt smile. "Congratulations. You had me believing that you've been here before. You don't cease to surprise me, Vincent."

Bemusement masked his pallid features from her offhand acceptance of his abnormality. "And it does not hinder you that I used it?"

He received a sharp sigh and a pair of rolling eyes. "I have the sudden sensation of déjà vu! Vincent, I don't care about you using them! I only care about you knowing where we are going! Getting lost in a dark labyrinth with rats crawling over my feet is not my idea of fun. I'd rather have the instinctual knowledge, thank you very much!"

Vincent considered her semi-humourous charm and indulged her. "You're crazy. You do realize that, right?"

"Not as crazy as someone who talks in their sleep?"

"What? I don't talk in my sleep!"

Yuffie smirked with obvious delight. "How do you know? You're asleep! It's just like Cloud and his 'cuddle bunny', but worse!"

"I'm not that bad!" He amended.

"So you admit it! Vincent and his sleep talking! Maybe, I should tell Tifa? Yes, that would be interesting. I can find out if Cloud still lingers with the sleep-bunnies!"

"No, you're not!" He stated with palpable authority. "I refuse for you to tattle on me and also pry into another man's life."

Yuffie read in-between the lines of his statement. This was not a joke. Something akin to jealousy---grave jealousy---haboured within his dark proclamation. Was he actually that protective of her? Was his possessiveness to the point of violence? It couldn't be, they barely knew each other. On the other hand, she knew more about him than she did herself, and vice versa.

However, it was still unnerving to have someone become so serious over a simple joke. She did not mean to upset him with simple humour. Truly, she believed he would have laughed at the offhand comment. Jealous of Cloud? God, was he crazy? The blonde, former leader was nothing more than a mere crush and she was certain no one knew about it. Unless Vincent read minds, he wouldn't know about it either. Ever.

"I was only joking, Vincent. You don't talk in your sleep; I was making that up… And Cloud…" She cast eyes from his quizzical glance, afraid to see what lay within them.

A warm hand gently tilted her chin, forcing her to look into his burning-eyes once more. Stormy-blue met crimson in silent confirmation. "You must believe I'm crazed with jealousy." He muttered under his breath. Catching her inquisitive gaze, he continued. "The truth is, I am. I cannot stand another man looking at you with lust, and not harbour the thought of ripping him to shreds. I cannot hold back the anger I feel when people scorn us, and I cannot let go of the belief that I will be left because of it…" He cupped her chin in a loving manner. "You must think I'm asinine over such trivial things…"

"No. I don't." An integral smile traced her lips. Laying her head against his chest, she quietly murmured, "Actually, I'm glad to know that I'm cared for that much. It's nice to know someone would be so dedicated to me, and truly want me in that respect." She gazed into his perplexed-eyes. "Vincent, thank you for being honest with me, my feelings are truly mutual." And they were, they truly were.

A gentle laugh escaped him when he tightened his embrace. "You know most women loathe men that are a little too overprotective when it concerns them?"

"I noticed." She grinned, remembering when her friend clobbered her future husband over the head for threatening a waiter. Really, one would not consider a maître d'hôtel being more than courteous to his guests. Cloud certainly needed to restrain that abrupt temper, before it caused serious damage.

Shaking her head, she countered his fiery gaze once more, her left brow lifting in apparent question. "With all joking aside, why did you bring me here?"

His jovial expression melted to one of mock remorse. "It was more a spur-of-the-moment thing. You mentioned you'd rather read ancient bards than here my, what was it? A lecture?"

"So, you drug me through Erebus and back just to intimidate me?" Her tone harboured sardonic irony, "I should have realized this was a ploy to get the better of me."

Vincent silently applauded her accurate conclusion. "Indeed, my dear. You are correct in that prospect. However, I also wanted to have the chance to view the stage from an actor's prospective."

Yuffie quirked a russet brow in question. "Are you interested in being a thespian, then? By Odin, I never would have believed it!"

"I meant that metaphorically, Yuffie." He corrected with hidden amusement. "And, no, I do not desire to be an actor---I would destroy the art."

Disbelief masked her features. "For some remote reason, I doubt that. I mean you're dark, tall, and handsome. I believe that fits in the drama category. Not to mention, you can very well deal without a stunt-devil. Of course, you would have to smile for the public eye…"

"And that's partly the reason I do not desire fame, dear. Besides, I've noticed Cloud and Tifa's reaction toward admiration, and I do not want people disturbing me every moment of my life for a simple autograph."

"Gives you the chills thinking about it, doesn't it?" She nodded in agreement. "Personally, I wouldn't want either. I'd rather just be noticed as one of the members, and not the star of the team. However, many have forgotten that I was part of the group…"

Vincent noticed her sudden change of mood. Ah yes, he knew exactly how it felt to be cast aside like a broken puppet. Of course, it would be best to be forgotten, than leave a notorious legend in the midst of your altruistic deed. If she only knew that he…

Never mind. He would not confess something that was not relevant to their relationship. Acknowledging his crime would only taint the tiny hope he had for true happiness. Yes. After their union as husband and wife, he would dare tell her the gory truth. Besides, there was nothing he could do about it now---the damage was done, and it was time to move on from it. The others had, and he would as well.

Shoving the imposing thought aside, Vincent carefully placed his arm around her sweet, supple waist, and quietly guided to the center portion of the stage. Eyeing her carefully, he nodded for her to look out into the imperceptible crowd. Dead applause commended them for their impromptu entry, the catcalls ringing inaudibly.

"I think you have their undivided attention, my dear." He murmured barely above a whisper.

She elbowed his side. "You think so?" She asked, revealing a wry smirk. "I thought I had them gripping their seats in sweet anticipation!"

"Oh, how could I not notice?" Vincent glanced to his right. "And the gentlemen over there," he pointed to a vacant chair, "looks as if he's about to piss his pants for your wonderful oration."

"Vincent!" She nudged his side rock-hard side more intensely this time.

The conniving marksman gave her a slight smile, before turning his attention to a door on the right side of the stage. Curiousity filled him, the feeble wonder with what lay behind the ebony-coloured door, most likely, the wardrobe room. Interesting.   

Without a word, he steered her toward the closed door. He knew she was silently questioning his sudden interest with a simple door--or rather, what was behind it, but decided to not ask. The future Kisaragi ruler was certainly learning.

Vincent gave her a hesitant expression before opening the ominous door. Yuffie bit the lower portion of her lip when she felt a slight breeze from the door's opening hit her bare skin. Glaring into the nebulous void, she smelt a light scent of faded roses, or something close to the floral fragrance. Before she could decipher the scent, Vincent pushed her into the darkness.

Her dark companion shut the door, closing out the remaining light from the stage. The young heiress stifled a gasp from the sudden confrontation with the darkness, and bit back an angry shriek intended for the furtive gunman. What in God's name was he planning now?

As if reading her unnerved thoughts, a seductive chuckle echoed throughout the enclosed space. Setting her jaw, Yuffie bit back a threat to his apparent amusement. This despondent initiative of trying to antagonize her was beginning to wear upon her thinning nerves. Maybe the cold Vincent was the better of the two…

"This isn't funny, Vincent." She muttered under steely breath.

Vincent smirked within the darkness. "I know."

"Then why are you trying to frighten me? I cannot stand it being so dark!" She whimpered pitifully. "Please, turn on a light, Vincent."

It was a pity she could not see the regret mold itself within his features. His teasing had caused fateful folly, and mainly because he wanted to play a joke. Guilt filled his conscience. This was not how a lover, much less, a gentleman would act. Where had his sense of integrity and morals gone? He felt just like the cruel, malevolent adolescent that caused pain among his adversaries long ago.

All guilt aside, something was not right. Why was she so frightened with the dark element? Of course, she was a child of light who basked within its iridescent splendour, while he, willingly embraced the dark god's laminate cover. But, something was still inapt about the situation. Had some past wrong been done within the darkness' shaded touch?    

It didn't matter—he would not force her for a confession. There would be ample opportunity to question her phobia when the subject was brought up on more—friendlier terms. Besides, he somewhat felt some things—secrets—were at times, best kept hidden until the right time to confront them. Oh yes, he would unravel her unnerving discomfort with the darkness. If he could cross the restricted lines between man and monster, then she could meet him halfway.

Biting back the urge to question her, he searched for a light-switch with his unnatural sight. Finding the off-white outlet to his right, Vincent mechanically turned the switch on.

Pale, lavender light flooded the room with dreary liberation—the darkness was a better comforting, opposed to this artificial security. He focused upon the female's lilac-tented skin; the poor illumination seemed to make her lifeless, like a porcelain doll. His bloody gaze elevated to meet her exhilarated one. She was unmoved by the sudden resuscitation of the synthetic illumination.

"Yuffie," he asked in true concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." The low mutter came from her dulcet voice, her chilled-eyes cast to the concrete floor.

"No, you're not." He countered, taking a step closer. "I apologize for my rude behaviour. I did not realize my harsh action would cause distress for you. I meant to simply frighten you for a moment. Forgive me."

Yuffie dared to steal a glance at his prone form. Her bewildered gaze conceded to visible regret. No, it was her fault for this sudden awkwardness between them. The simple practical joke was harmlessly negligent—Vincent was only trying to beat her at their subtle game of trickery. No, the harm came from something else, or rather, someone else. Vincent did not need to know. Not yet. Maybe not ever if the situation did not represent itself.

But, at the moment, all that was significant was to force this gauche tension aside and worry upon other things. Like… Oh God, the ball! Shit! How could that slip her mind so easily? Enough of that! She had to first assure her vexed lover that her sudden lapse in a personal chain spiral was not his fault.

"It's my fault, Vincent. It's just I'm a little frightened of the dark. You know, a sudden introduction without light sort of bothers me—I lose some of my senses when it happens."

She noticed the slight disbelief within his claret-eyes—he didn't believe her. Not fully, anyway. However, he set whatever skepticism he harboured aside, and nodded in acceptance. "I'll take your word on that, Yuffie… For now." He ended in a curt tone.

She said nothing in defense, couldn't. If it was one thing she knew about the former assassin, it was he would never give ground for interrogation. Vincent would eventually obtain the truth from her, even if she refused to provide it.

The uncomfortable silence developed like an unwanted child. Eyes of ruby watched her with unfaltering assiduity, caring even without a motive. With a stifled sigh, Vincent ended the awkward silence with an immediate smile, volatile—to say the least.

"Yuffie," he murmured without a slight trace of indignation. "Let us enjoy the rest of the evening."

"What do you have in mind?"

Eyeing the pregnant closets with semi-interest, he answered, "How about playing dress-up, then going out for ice-cream?"

Whatever was left of her fretful frown melted instantly, a questionable smile replacing the worry in her lips. "You want to play dress-up."

It was more of a tentative statement than a question.

"I will—if and only if—you will. If you don't, we'll return to the room."

"And sit just there and do what? Twiddle our thumbs? We have a certain time restriction today, in case you have forgotten—"

"I know." He cut her interrogation abruptly. "But, there's much to do in a day, my dear. It will only take mere minutes for us to dress up and dance. That is, if you're not afraid to?"

He received an unladylike snort. "I'll take you up on that! And in case you have forgotten, women take longer than men to prepare. I have much to do."

"Indeed." He merely replied and turned his attention to the lighted vanity. "You know," he muttered informatively. "You could do your make-up here."

A rich laugh echoed throughout the room. Vincent was certainly charming in this naïve state. Costume cosmetics were just a bit different from what she would have preferred. Flamboyant colours brought out by a stage-light were a far cry with normal lighting. She would be deemed a gypsy or something from a gothic-like background if she favoured the actor's guise.

"Vincent, you're charming—when you want to be." She nodded in consent. "All right, a few minutes, then I'll wipe it off!" She eyed him with icy-eyes. "You better hold your part of the bargain!"

"I wouldn't dream of breaking it." He murmured, before focusing upon the massive wardrobe for male actors. Something black and concealing would be just right. Hopefully, Yuffie would find a very short, very sensual garb to wear, even if only for a few cherishing moments.

His hands shifted through the mass of garments that were neatly hung on wire racks. His bloody gaze inspected each costume with utter dismay; most of these sizes would not correspond with his immense height. The pains of being a six-foot male were sometimes unbearable.

He paid no heed to the constant shuffling behind him, most likely his fickle love shoving aside another unfitting outfit. His wayward mind slipped into an idle daydream. He imagined the ambivalent princess wearing the perfect gown for the reception tonight. White suited her quite well. Now, if only he could keep her occupied by not asking about purchasing a gown…

His sudden idea of playing dress-up was a true stroke of genius. He could kill two birds with one stone—keep Yuffie occupied, and also, suppress his desire to ravish her on the stage. The infamous quote: 'Thespians do it on stage' rang through his coddled mind. If only they had time to see if it were true… Oh well, they could do it after the ball. Who would stop them when everyone would most likely attend that extensive social event?

However, this would most likely be their last night here. After the clock struck twelve, and the magic pumpkin reverted back to its former state, it would time to leave, albeit, with more than a mere glass slipper. Yes. Tonight he would propose… Tonight he would offer everything his soul could give, sealed with a special promise…

Vincent gently clasped the precious item in his pocket; the relieving reassurance of its existence bided his unending anticipation. Yes, Yuffie would adore it. If not, he would keep it for their future daughter, since he had a hell of a time acquiring it. Of course, inwardly, he knew she would either cry in utter joy, or keel over in complete shock. Either option was exceptionally appealing.

Choosing a dark article from the vast array of atypical fashion, Vincent made his way to the vanity opposite of Yuffie's. A sly, yet concealed smirk traced his pallid-lips in a convinced state of surprising his beloved. Inwardly, he knew she had first believed him to be something that clambered its way of the torments of Hell---he seen it in here eyes.

One of such enigmatic prestige was stereotyped to be gothic, bloodless, and brusquely clad in shades of ebony. Crack-whore would be a better fitting title. Shameful to say, not all creatures of such classification religiously followed the subtle label. His flawed, tragic angel was a prime example.

Vincent wiped the ascetic memory away as a layer of powdery, white paint was applied to his already ashen cheeks. The toneless spread made his bloodless face look more like a victim drained of its blood from a merciless vampire. However, his burning-eyes contradicted the plausible façade. Pity, he really wanted to look like a helpless casualty…

His next choice of cosmetics was simply a tube of black face-paint. The minute cylinder functioned as a lady's choice of lipstick. His human hand---artful at being precise---applied the ebon paint around his lips and finally, upon his colourless-lips.

The reformed demon stared at his reflection with indifferent apathy---certainly a crack-whore, or gothic gigolo. Two, single slits were stressed in a vertical fashion across his fiery orbs, while his prominent lips contrasted the rest of his bloodless guise.

An unspoken thought of what his future wife would think ran rampant throughout his mind.

Silently smiling, he asked if she was finished with her costume. "Just a second!" Her stuttered reply echoed throughout the claustrophobic room. 

A shuffling of material followed by staggered clicking of heels alerted his dawdling attention. Yuffie's silhouette dominated the wall adjacent to his prone form. Vincent's strategic gaze moved from the domineering shadow to the cause of its brief existence---his breath stilled within his throat.

Standing before him was not his practical princess, but an ethereal apparition derived from a lustful poet's poem. Oh Virgil, she was the muse of all beauty within the lyrical art. Bright stars and sweet morning breath could not even begin to compare their page-written efforts of beauty. Imagery was everything, but real-life was also captivating. Even a blind man could see that.

"You're…" he held his breath, the articulate comment not reaching his tongue.

"Ugly?" She finished for him. Her eyes scrutinized every inch of her gaudy form. The extravagant cascades of iridescent ribbon descending from her tight bodice made her feel like an inundated zeppelin.

"I was thinking more along the longs of captivating, but even that cannot suffice your radiance."

Half a smile breached her lips. Unconvincingly, she approached him, careful not to trip in the weighted dress. Shards of glitter fell from the illustrious fabric, landing upon the gunman's dark ensemble. The sapphire hue matched the colour of her vibrant eyes to eloquent perfection. Titania reborn. The Wutainese heiress could very well replace the hailed queen of the fairies with her prominent presence alone.

Vincent covetously encircled her bare shoulders in a lustful manner. Pulling her closer, he craned her lips to meets his. After what seemed an eternity, he freed them of their sated embrace. Yuffie gazed deeply into the bloody pools of his eyes, the face-paint making his appearance all the more enticing.

"So, if I'm a fairy princess, what are you?" She teased a wayward lock of ebon.

Vincent seized a loose tendril of russet in remote defense. "A crack-whore…"

An amused laugh echoed within the room. "That was a good one, truly! I never thought you would paint yourself up like this! You remind of this one guy who painted himself up, and killed a number of drug addicts. Did you ever hear of that story? I believe it was made into a film, although I've not seen it since Wutai receives no television signal."

"Can't say that I have." He replied honestly, however, curious of her faint recollection. Perhaps, they could watch this alleged film. It sounded interesting, anyway.              

"Well, anyway, I wanted complement your ensemble. " She gave a wink of approval. "It suites you, my gothic gunslinger."

Vincent merely chuckled from the abstract complement. "Well, am I good enough to play the part of your otherworldly male interest, princess? Do you believe I could fit Oberon's standards?"

"Very funny!" She slapped his chest jokingly. "I never realized you would take literary characters so seriously."

"I'm certain that our portrayals of them could surpass the best of actors. Even---" Vincent was cut short when a harsh chime hailed from the ormolu clock behind them---already, five in the afternoon. God, time certainly was not on their side this night. Or perhaps, it was…

"Crap!" Yuffie swore under her breath. "I completely forgot about finding a dress, damn it!"

Vincent watched her angrily scoff the floor with her loose heels. Smiling from the intriguing outburst, he seized whatever condemnation she was about to take upon the wooden floor and ushered her to the idle vanity. "Get dressed." He stated simply. "We'll return to the room and calculate what is to be done."

The formidable gunman looked at her reassuringly. "Everything will be in its place, I promise. We will have your dress, princess. On that I can assure you."

Yuffie did not counter his optimism. Setting all objections aside, she obeyed his neutral command. Removing the gaudy gown from her flesh was even more daunting than putting it on. Shiva, how could women stand these? Especially when they had to be worn with a corset? She perished the thought.

A full five minutes transcended into Time's hungry jaws as Yuffie came fact to face with a paint-less Vincent. "How did you…"She didn't finish her sudden question of how he removed all of that make-up; hers was bad enough.    

"I'm a fast dresser." He answered and quickly escorted her out of the room. His stride was abruptly quickened, urging Yuffie to comply with his speed. His pace ensured a few collisions with guests, but there was no major injury. Vincent ushered her through a throng of people already dressed for the occasion Time was of the essence, and there was certainly none to waste. 

A stifled breath escaped her knotted throat. Impending bile threatened to choke her as Vincent opened the door. Yuffie eyed the disarray of clothes across the wooden floor. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she bent down to make a semi-feasible pile of wrinkled garments in an idle corner.

She stared at the less-than-acceptable pile in total desperation, none of these outfits would suffice. Her moment of bleakness ended when a comforted hand graced her bare shoulder. Turning with a warred frown, she noticed deep placation within his opulent spheres. "Yuffie," he murmured, the comforting tones soothing her addled being.

"Have you found a dress?"

He received a forlorn headshake. Nodding in silent consent, he turned his gaze to his idle, neatly packed luggage. "I do believe you have not searched through everything." He gestured her to open the closed trunks.

Without dispute, Yuffie trudged her sullen form toward the massive bags. She adroitly opened the smaller of the two, and found nothing but a vast amount of boxers and other masculine apparel. Her hope faded as she closed the bag and opened the other massive bag. Cerulean-eyes glanced over the garments skeptically and gently settled upon the man behind her.

"Keep searching." He encouraged with a childlike gleam in his eyes.

Yuffie obeyed and quietly sieved through the neatly folded mass of trousers and shirts. Her incredulous gaze melted to one of visible shock---it was the white gown from Kalm.

Disbelief clouded her vision as she gazed openly at the unwrinkled article. How in the world did he ever? She couldn't begin to piece together the perplexing puzzle. Ivory hands trailed over the satiny fabric, as if proving this was truly a tangible outfit.

"Vincent, how did you---"

"Shh," he whispered within her ear. "Put it on, love. I want to see you in it, not just envision you since I purchased it."

Yuffie felt brimming happiness swell within her minute soul. Kissing his lips, she retreated to the bathroom to change. Her impatient benefactor did not have to wait an eternity to see her beautiful form grace across the wooden floor. Eyes of claret held her form while gratified desired ached within his soul. She was far more beautiful in the flesh compared to his poor, mental depiction.

"By Phoenix, were the stars to fall from the crying heavens, they could not compare to such beauty." He murmured under his breath. "Oh, fair maiden, of sepia hair and alabaster skin, I bid thee,  take all of me…"

"Vincent, does it look all right?" She asked in uncertainty.

"I could not perceive a goddess exceeding you." He admitted with true pride. "And you are mine."

Yuffie did not look into the powerful claim; she only shook her head in agreement. "As you are mine, my wayward guardian." Her eyes fell upon his casual attire. "Do you have a suit?"

Vincent nodded. "Yes, I purchased one not too long, actually." Considering, that was where he went this morning… "Yes, I believe I should not make us unfashionably late, don't you?"

"Go and get changed! I'll finish getting everything together."

An elated sigh escaped him. "Yuffie, bring some bandages, because when I finish, I'm whisking you onto the dance floor."

"I can take it!" She assured him as the bathroom door closed behind him. Tonight, was going to be enchanting; she could feel it.

****

Evening cloaked itself with its infamous dark cowl, as the twilight hours approached with chilling inevitability. Blanched snow covered the landscape, however dirtying its pristine purity near alleged civilization. The imperceptible cloud that loomed over the booming town reared its ominous head with vague hostility---the premonition of something foreboding seemed to lay within the nebulous fog.

The sinister presence faded from the mind's eye and stars began to transcend through Nyx's dark veil. A cool breeze rustled through the weatherworn pines, causing a congregation of dead nettles to gracelessly fall from their place. Pity no one was there to witness their senseless fall from grace.

Nature and the elements were not important to the superficial human, other than the concern of adequate weather conditions. Even then, Demeter, herself, could not ravage this icy hell with a thousand of her devastating plagues---humanity would not allow it.

And so, gods were forgotten when frivolities of human desire and passion came into play. Religion and morality were cast aside for one evening of unending pleasure, or so a majority believed. Desire and chastity did not mix when set into a throng of mindless, intoxicated humans. It was like fusing oil and water---the effect having none.

The deep introspective was unfortunately set aside when a light kiss graced the back of the intellectual's neck. Turning, ruby-eyes captured the impish vixen in ivory. An ebon eyebrow rose in amusement. "And what do I owe the honour of such close contact?"

The brunette revealed a wry grin. "I just wanted to wake you up. You know, considering the ball is going to start in oh say…thirteen minutes and twenty-one seconds…twenty…"

Vincent chuckled. "All right, I get the picture!" He extended his arm in a chivalrous manner. "Shall we?"

Yuffie gracefully accepted his arm and nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be…" 'That is, if I don't throw-up on the way there!'

Her stomach churned on the way down the elevator, as a group of other guests crowded the tiny space. The tight area made her lose her focus and struggling breath---she was extremely nervous. But why she could not explain.

Something in Vincent's manner made her feel a tinge of anticipation. Like he had something planned for this extravagant eve. Could he? Would he? No. He would never go that far---it was too soon. Or, was it? Would a certain proposition be made that she could not refuse? By the gods, she hoped so. Wait. Did she just consider that? Ah Lord, she was crazy, but crazy in a good way.

Artificial illumination made her visible flesh seem more ethereal than its original pallid colour---she could almost compare tones with Vincent. Funny to think of when her counterpart looked even less alive. Yes, the vampire cometh… Wonderful, sexy, seductive vampire at that…

A faint smile traced her soft-lips, the warming thought teasing her contented soul. Whatever came out of this night would be the beginning of something she could only begin to perceive. Even now, the vague vision of what was to come made her inwardly anticipate it unprecedented arrival. God, give her strength to await such inevitable promise, for she could not endure it alone. 

The agile heiress' hearing honed the silent, symphonic suite the orchestra performed. The sweet, somber, yet hauntingly beautiful melodies played within her mind's eye, echoing the foreshadowing of something inopportune and inevitable within the present's midst. Perhaps, it was merely her chilled nerves…on the other hand, what if?

No, she would not let a bad case of nervous tension ruin this illustrious evening—she refused.

And within that refusal, she set her quirky sixth-sense aside and focused upon the man beside of her. Vincent. Shiva, he was beautiful. No, beautiful was not the correct term—godlike would suite his enigmatic authority.

Like the god of dreams, she affirmed he was the dark god himself; spinning dreams with the flick of his nimble hand and capturing her with undaunted assurance. The dark navy colour of his captain's coat complemented with his ebony trousers made his appearance obsolete, but still, the genteel quality of the illustrious past. Adonis incarnate with apparel.

Yuffie gazed at her own attire, the seemingly hidden grin rematerializing. Darkness and light. Ebony and Ivory. Phantom and substantial mortal. Gods, how the contrasted each other! And, other victim's of their daunting presence seen it, noted it with silent disdain.

Let them toss their opinionated cruelty. They would merely view their own horrid reflection within the indifferent mirrors of four orbs. Fire and ice gazed at the adoring populace with an unconcerned, jaded amusement. The lackluster quality of staring at individuals who merely judged by appearance alone was truly getting tedious. After this evening, it would be bordering on the lines of being archaic.

Her undivided attention brought her to a pair of familiar wooden doors. The dark oak opened automatically, beckoning them to enter. Yuffie her held sweet, breath as she felt the light breeze of the doors chill her skin. Her cerulean gaze shifted from the memories of the dimly lit room and shaded floor to the sight before her.

If only she could gasp at what she witnessed.

The massive ballroom seemed larger than its shaded appearance of last night's interlude. The alabaster floor held a remarkable luster of gold and tainted crème, the square golden designs holding an aristocratic style of size and width. Beyond the detailed pattern lay another barrage of intricate tiles, only dark navy. Her oceanic-eyes bore into the ground's floor with open awe—she could see her own reflection.

Columns made of the same yet duller alabaster stone held the massive ceiling in place. The streaked colours of grey and crème complemented the golden floor with impervious perfection. The etched statues of angels and demons were embedded at the pinnacle and base of each pillar, as if symbolizing some discreet metaphor only the perceptional could understand. Unfortunately, she was not one of them.

No matter, the Corinthian-style pillars still held a vivacious beauty to them, albeit an austere one, but beautiful nonetheless. Her interest shifted from the ascetic columns, to the magnificent sets of windows placed throughout the room. The oval ballroom held at least ten windows, thirteen to be exact—such an odd, and seemingly unlucky number. However, the room would be unbalanced without the critical integer.

From the floor's base to the magnificent ceiling, the windows stretched in silent agony. Like the condemned Atlas, the windows upheld the metaphysical Heaven and Hell of the prominent ballroom. Nothing, it seemed, could withstand such implausible weight, but she was fooled. The thick, plated glass conveyed the night's snowy landscape with pristine awe. Beyond the ardent arms of the ballroom, lay a barren wasteland of frigid emotion. The icy hell stared into deeply within her soul, as if bearing some hidden contempt for her warm mood—the profound intimidation chilled her tender heart.

She forced herself to look away from the chilling sight; something within that unfathomable hell touched her. Not as in offering a comforting proposal, but something more sinister, more malevolent. The violence charred her core with icy fire.

Her attention rested upon the beauteous rotunda. With its comforting arms of absolution, the inanimate being tore her away from the impervious grasp of the chilling wasteland. She felt her soul return to her as she focused upon the comforting images the warming rotunda offered.

She was not mistaken from last night's poor illumination; the image of the celestial heavens was there. Brilliant stained glass shimmered within the hanging chandelier's light, reflecting a myriad of brilliant colours—more dominant, the shades of reds and blues. The conflicting tones depicted the contradictory views of day and night.

On one side, the sun's resplendent brilliance radiated searing fire and immense heat, while the moon's cooling presence countered its burning combatant with chilling comfort. The consoling ease the beauteous icon emitted was truly a blessing. The intimidation melted from her being like snowflakes touching a burning flame.

Intimidation was no longer a thought. Focusing her daunted attention, she eyed her perspective lover. Navy truly suited him—even if his bloodstained-eyes deeply opposed it. She could not help but wonder if his magnificent orbs were always that imposing shade. Truly, no one else within existence matched his elusive grandeur. Ruby was indeed a rarity among the myriad of jade, sapphire, obsidian, and even amber.

"What?" He asked in a teasing manner.

Yuffie shook his teasing gaze off with a wave of her gloved hand. "Nothing. I was just thinking—"

"Thinking? Pray tell about?" he quirked an ebon brow in visible delight. "Come now, you're silence is torturing, love."

"I was only thinking about the variety of eye colour among people. I know, offhand and strange."

Vincent knitted his dark brows together. "Not strange, just rather…different. It suites you, my dear."

"Suits me?"

"Yes, I like the oddity within one's thoughts. It's far better than say, talking about the weather or someone of distaste. Diversity among eye colour, very amusing!" He squeezed her hand in a refined manner. "And that, princess, is truly a compliment from the dark, ominous Valentine."

Yuffie commended him with mock ovation. "Impressive. Most impressive, my dearest rake."

"Classic of you to malign me with churlish, untrue remarks! I, madam, do not seduce young women into bed."

"And what do you call last night, or the night before, huh?" She nodded all-knowingly. "If that is not considered within the ranks of a notorious rake, I don't know what is! Come now, you can't expect that I've survived for seventeen years and not be exposed to masculine procedures?"

Vincent sighed in apparent defeat. "Guilty as charged, I suppose." He gazed at her intensely. "Now, what will you do about it?"

The confident princess set her interest toward the dance floor, noticing many couples approaching the unoccupied space, then met his gaze once more. "I want to dance, Mister Valentine." She defied his hesitant expression. "That is, if you're not afraid."

Without refrain, Vincent whisked the deeply confident heiress onto the dance floor without hesitation, knowing full-well people would witness their impromptu entrance into the lavish room. Perhaps, they would capture the attention of significant comrades he noticed moments earlier. Gods forbid they would, though.

Inside, he felt this night was far from being over. If only, they could escape so he could ask her. If only, she would accept, and then he could whisk her away from everyone and have her to himself. If only, a set of aquatic orbs did not see them…

Cloud, despondent as ever, rolled his brilliant Mako-eyes from another admirer—blind worshiper, to be exact. This was ninth prestigious male giving his condolences over Cloud's spoiled good looks and mooning over his well-endowed wife. Christ, did they not see the wedding bands or their daughter? Infidels. All of them hopeless, bloody fools blind to what lay before them. If only he had his Ultima with him… Of course, Tifa would disapprove; she highly berated violence in public.

It did not matter what his wife censured, as long as he could protect his family from these lunatics. Besides, he loathed it when another male looked at Tifa, or rather, her chest area. Didn't forbidden fruit mean anything? Of course not! Not when he also looked in that area. But, he was allowed to revel in such beauty—she was his.

Ah, such is the joy of being possessive—or rather—jealous. And he fully admitted he was. How could he not confess the innate emotion when it overcame his good judgment? How could he not when Tifa was the only being in existence that comforted his damned soul when he embellished himself within darkness? Odin, he would be a fool not to hold contempt for those who even eyed her with more than mere respect.

Clutching his gloved hand, he kindly cleared his throat the moment he noticed this new admirer dared himself to look at Tifa's restricted areas. "I believe it is time you made you leave, sir. My wife and I need to converse with a few of our friends. Please, enjoy the rest of the evening." He gave a curt, yet warring smile, and ushered his toward Cid and Shera.

Gods be praised that he did not have to lie and make a complete ass of himself. Tifa's lavish right eyebrow rose in question. Shaking his unruly blonde locks, he quickly amended her with a silent "don't ask".

The well-educated martial artist found it necessary not to argue—Cloud would certainly have a legitimate reason to rudely frighten a poor admirer off. Wait. Christ. Not again. She inwardly rolled her eyes at the senseless jealousy of men.

Silent laughter filled from the thought of Cloud being a trite over-protective. Really, one would believe they had sense to notice the difference between genuine admiration and discernible lust. Didn't her brawny husband notice Imara was in front of her chest? Men and their ideologies of restricted areas, really!

In spite of this, she would allow her pensive husband remain oblivious—for the moment. It would be all too fun when she brought up the undaunted fact that their greatest fan was eyeing his daughter and not her mother's C-sized breast size, but enough of that. Right now, she wanted to say a few words and have the chance to hold the couple's newest Highwind.

Tifa handed Imara to her impassive father as she held the tiny infant. Ashen-grey lazily stared into her holder's red orbs with faint concern. Opening her tiny mouth, she allowed a faint yawn escape her before falling back into a dreaming abyss of carefree thoughts.

"She's beautiful." Tifa murmured, carefully handing the sleeping child back to its loving mother.

Shera smiled in agreement. "She's quiet most of the time---unlike her father!"

"Hey!" The father in question grumbled before receiving a jab in the left rib. "…Sorry, honey. I forgot..." He muttered in apology.

The frail technician shook her head in dismay. "Men. They believe screaming is the only means to an end."

"Tell me about it!" A sable headed nodded vigorously before eyeing her husband's impish glare. "And they so love when we chase them with a wrought-iron frying pan! Pity, I left mine at home…"

"Thank Odin for that!" Cloud mumbled under his breath before getting a hard kick in the shin. "'Och, what was that for, Tifa? I was merely joking, luv."

Tifa only smiled coquettishly. "Nothing, darling. I'll tell you later."

The former Soldier grumbled another inaudible comment before handing his fussy daughter to her mother. Shaking his unruly mop of hair, he eyed his former employer coming to meet their small entourage. "Barret! Elmyra! Marlene! How are you guys?"

The rugged gunman gave a brief nod and slapped the lithe swordsman on the back. "Good, Spike and you?"

"Other than fighting this oppressive monkey-suit and not making a complete ass of myself, I would say I'm doing quite well."

A deep laugh erupted from the newly fledged mayor's chest. "Always like you to joke, boy." Turning his dark gaze to the others, he regarded them with the same humour. "I'm glad ta see the gang's all here!"

"Mostly." Cid corrected. "Everyone has not made it, yet."

Before the dark man could reply, a flamboyant mass of reddish-orange approached their small group. One golden-eye reputed their presence, sending comfort their way. The being took a susceptible seat on the cool navy tiles near Cloud and mouthed a "hello".

"Red, it's great to see you!" Tifa greeted with a warming smile.

The dog-like beast nodded in silent agreement. "Yes, I did not expect to come until the last minute. But, I'm glad I did. It's wonderful to see everyone again." He gazed at them with a solitary eye.

"It's been a while, cat. What have you been doin' in that desert hole of yours?" Barret inquired with slight curiousity.

"I've been working with studies my grandfather left behind before he…" he paused briefly, "Went on vacation."

All nodded in consent. No one opposed the beast's statement, holding respect for they're friend to affirm his grandfather's demise. Even after a year, it was still hard for the new leader of Cosmo Canyon to accept his grandfather's death. Perhaps, Time did not heal all wounds. However, there was hope that acceptance would still be perceivable.

Cloud interrupted the gauche silence with a gentle chuckle. "It's a pity we don't have Cait Sith here with us. The gang would not be complete without him."

"I very much doubt Reeve would allow Cait anywhere without his guidance." His wife amended. "Even though, he has his own brain now, I doubt he would leave Reeve's side for a moment."

Red shook his fluorescent mane. "If it were Cait's choice, he would be telling untrue fortunes or gambling, the former and latter both being quite disdainful, but Cait-worthy nonetheless."

"Damn cat stole my deck of cards before leaving the group."  Cid grunted with visible irritation. "It was my best deck, too."

"What? The deck with the naked ladies on them?" Cloud asked with a naughty smile.

"Cid!" Shera threatened under her breath. "What naked ladies?"

"Um…they were um…a gift, angel! Really, one of my old crew friends from our days in ShinRa gave them to me. They were the best deck of cards I ever used…" Cid said, failing in his defense.

His wife pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed something barely audible. The others glanced at the berated pilot with puckish smiles. Seeing Cid hang like a defenseless, wriggling worm on a hook was worth risking his wife's ire. Especially, when his witty excuses were faltered with stammered connotation.

The warm, stifled gathering had truly been delayed long enough. Now, if only the rest were here to join in the jovial activities. Really, Avalanche would not be the same without three of their missing comrades. Unfortunately, one was seeking solace in the greener pastures of the Lifestream. Such a pity; Aerith would be missed.

But now was not the time to mourn her abrupt passing. Right now, it was time to celebrate being alive and remembering the struggle so many fought for. In the end, they won their right to live a life without the ShinRian Empire. Life was much more simple without the constraints of people with the I-am-God theology

It was truly wonderful to watch old friends talk about their lives, and how everything seemed to fall into place after their inevitable departure. Everyone looked as if they had aged, or rather, matured from a year of normalcy, even he, changed.

Cloud merely shook his tangled spikes from his brief thoughts. Truly, one would say he was the one who had changed most, but that would be a lie. He admitted he lost a portion of his looks, but he also gained the long-lost belief within himself. Tifa had been so persistent with his inner struggle---she was the one who instigated this grand alteration.

But really, the honour of changing the most would go to his dark comrade. Who was evidently enjoying themselves at this very moment? Really, it was not all that surprising. One would see the unparalleled attraction between the Materia hunter and former Turk. Perfection within visible fault---amazing.      

The ex-Soldier watched the couple move strategically across the lighted dance floor in perfect coordination. Temporal jealousy coursed through his young veins from the sight. Why couldn't he sweep Tifa off her feet like that? Truly, Vincent was a skilled dancer. What other secrets could he possibly hide underneath that dark exterior? Perhaps, Yuffie would see to that.

Something more was going on between them. Friends? That was merely a cover-up. There was sexual attraction within their movement; he could see it all the way from his place. He briefly wondered what his dark comrade was doing on those nights alone with his petite protégé. Oh well, they could keep this father/daughter façade going before finally confessing their unpardonable sin.    

"Daddy!"

Cloud abruptly turned to meet his daughter's wide-eyed gaze. His stoic expression quickly melted when he regarded her tiny smile. A father's heart would melt when their child called for them lovingly. Well, it did for this heartless soldier.

"What is it, baby?"

Imara considered her words carefully. "Daddy, want wawa!"

"Water it is, angel!"

"I think we'll fallow on this little endeavor, dear. I need something to drink too. This heat has gotten me parched!" Tifa favoured her dehydrated throat with a free hand.

Nodding in consent, the regal blonde led the way through the throng of oblivious spectators. After a few collisions and forced apologies, they finally made it to the minute bar.

Drinks of various kinds were held in decanters on the shelf, crystal glasses hanging from tiny golden hooks. It sort reminded the couple of their beloved bar. A sudden sense of grief filled them when thinking of its closed doors. The people of Kalm were probably pissed over their absence at the moment. Oh well, they would return in a few days. Even bar owners needed a vacation.

Cloud carefully placed the newly filled bottle of water into his daughter's small hands. For being only a year old, Imara Strife certainly made for her tiny form with brains. Speaking and holding various objects certainly exceeded most physicians' expectations. Of course, it was not surprising for two proud parents.

Tifa gazed into her husband's clouded-eyes with true wonderment. He was certainly sweet when blissfully ignorant. "Cloud, are you going to come to Earth some time? I mean Imara and I are getting lonely!"

"Very funny, Tifa!" He countered her tease. "I was passing by the moon when I noticed a cosmic sight on my way to Uranus." He nodded toward the couple on the dance floor.

"Oh my God. Is that--"

"You bet it is!" He confirmed. "The illusive couple caught in the public's eye. Who would have imagined that?"

"I told you--"

"That I was sexy?" A slurred voice interjected.

Cool aqua considered the couple before biting back a nasty comment. "You know, I rather enjoy seeing you guys again. I mean I've Cancer-Addict, Darky, even their overgrown hairball tonight! Who would have thought I would actually bump into their brainless leader and sexy bar girl!"

"What are you doing here, Reno?" Cloud asked, his scar deeply creasing.

The sardonic Turk eyed the marred Soldier with sudden revulsion. "My God, Strife! I never believed the rumours that much! I would have thought your face wasn't that mangled! It must have been a bitch to feel those razor-sharp claws ripping your pretty-boy flesh apart! I know I'd blow the bastard to Hell for just a tiny nick!"

Cloud heeded the raging entity within his soul. No, he refused to give in to something so pointless and trivial. Especially, when dealing with this idiot. No God's wonder Yuffie wonder; he was a fucking dumbass! "Yes, well I don't waste my friends over something they could not control. Unlike some killing mercilessly." Cloud spoke icily.  

Reno's cold gaze countered Cloud's in a silent visual battle. "He made a mistake in letting you live." He muttered vehemently. The frosty-eyes regarded Tifa. "Nice boobs, Tifa. Really, if you're tired of Scar Face, you know my number!"

"I hate to disappoint you, Reno, but I'm happily married, and have a family."

The martial artist's low blow certainly hit him below the belt. Merely nodding, he mumbled, "Never mind, dear. It was you who I was looking floor anyway." Turning from them he searched the crowd for something, or rather, someone.

"You're a fool, Reno." Cloud spoke frigidly, ice freezing every word.

"And you would know, Strife! I wouldn't be proud to admit I almost killed a friend, even if I was being possessed by a demigod!"

The fuming soldier ignored the comment. "Pity, Reno. It's truly a pity not to let go, isn't it? Even Yuffie has moved on from you! May God have mercy on you for hurting her!"

"Who the fuck gives you the right to lecture me over morality? You are no better than me, or your monster friend for that matter!" He glared at him bitterly. "I bet that freak didn't even apologize for wasting your face. The cold bastard probably laughed and left you bleeding!"

Hostility coursed within his enhanced veins. Hate might have once fueled his thoughts on his redeemed friend, but no one would ever throw that condemnation in his face. No one would berate his friend without a valid reason, and Reno had none.

"You know, and to think Vincent has everything you could ever have, or had, that is."

"What do you mean?" Aqua burned a frosty hole into Cloud's coat.

"Figure it out, smartass. The answer is behind you."

No sooner did he turn around to see what the hostile blonde was babbling about when he noticed a familiar laugh fill the air. Within the middle of the dance floor, danced his angel and…fuck. What in Hell was he doing with her? What possessed that thing to dance with her, make her laugh? What ungodly notion did that demon possess in dancing with Yuffie?

By the gods, he would find out. And then, there would certainly be hell to pay…

The soothing suite and lights were a blur to her sated mind. Everything melded into a sophisticated state of euphoric delirium. The ending result; changing into an elated drug---ecstasy, true untainted ecstasy. Her evening could not delve deeper into the void of sheer exultation. Beauty and beast captivated all within their presence.

She felt Vincent's burning gaze upon her, the intense stare setting her skin ablaze. Flames scorched her crying soul in the vast stillness. Her voice held no tone of protest when he examined her lithe form. Like a hungry demon eyeing its prey, Vincent dissected every inch of her. An inaudible, predatory growl erupted from his silent vocal cords after he felt staggered breath upon his human hand.

Glancing their clasped hands, the gunman noted how she held onto the claw with sheer accuracy. Not even the cold damning metal intimated her enclosure around its plaguing touch. Her bare finger gleamed with creamy radiance within the dimmed lights, matching his metallic luster. Yes, this would work, albeit he would have to substitute his right hand to fit the criteria.

On the other hand, certain specifications could be made to play the part and be traditional. Many skilled craftsmen could easily alter their expertise on such a special engagement. Uncertainty would be cast aside when a certain amount of payment fit the bill. Yes, it would be no trouble to encrust a band of gold around the artificial finger.

However, all would be void if she did not accept. And inwardly, part of him believed she would deny his offer. And with her unavoidable rejection, his resplendent world would shatter into oblivion, leaving only a hollow soul within dead flesh. Yuffie could not deny his offer---he would not allow it.

Even now, his demonic heart beat in agony. The very notion of a life without her tore at his damned soul. A slight wave of comfort filled him when he felt her eyes upon him. With a forced smile, Vincent returned her merry expression.

Her face. Gods, how her face lit up with impish delight when he smiled! Her deep, oceanic-eyes sparkled with the luminosity of a thousand Pulsar stars. Blue diamonds replaced the carbonated flesh and gazed everlastingly into his archaic orbs. She truly put Aphrodite and Helen to shame.     

Impulsive desire filled his being with a new objective. It was now or never. Hesitating within this critical moment could possibly ensure his downfall. Then again, save him from a life of insecurity. Yes, he could do this. He had to. Otherwise, all hope would hang dangerously within a warring web of balance. One fatal tear, and all would fall to the Charybdis of deep despair.     

Vexation daunted his confidence as he nervously grasped the object within his pants pocket. His clammy hand tensely grasped the cool surface in waved poise. He had to do this. If not, the Fates might find his hesitation unworthy enough to keep them eternally separated. A deepening feeling of something vile and destructive desiring to separate them, chilled his spine.

Breathing in, Vincent closed his brilliant, bloodstained-eyes with silent irritation. Opening the bloody orbs, he looked deeply into her loving-eyes and let everything go. Concern was scattered the wind the moment he locked gazes with her. It was time.

Within a moment's absurdity, Vincent pulled a hand against his leathery-lips. Bravely, he dared to kiss the tiny, white knuckles with his dry kiss. A mental expression of happiness invaded their minds as Vincent pulled a lock of russet away from her pallid face. Eyeing her with gathered courage, he finally found the nerve to speak.

"Yuffie," he said intrepidly.

"Yes, Vincent?" Her cerulean-eyes asked, reflecting slight contentment.

The former Turk briefly bit his lower lip and exhaled. "I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest, all right?"

"All right, Vincent." She nodded earnestly. "What is it?"

He brushed her smooth knuckles against his rough-lips once more, praying this would not be the last time he done so. With a staggered breath he murmured, "Yuffie, you are the only thing in existence that matters to me. I would give you anything if it were my power, my soul is yours." He stared into her widening-eyes. "Yuffie, will you—"

"Get your fucking hands off of her!" A deep, ominous voice threatened behind them.

Vincent's claw, which was clasping her side, forcefully tore away from her delicate dress, the fragile satin ripping from its thin bindings. Vincent noticed small droplets of crimson escaping her tender side, and the anger seething within him when he noticed the masculine hand upon his claw. This male who dared to disrupt them was now doomed.

Turning, the bemused couple stared into the cold gaze of enhanced aqua. Yuffie gasped as Vincent protectively placed her behind him. Hate, rage, and true desire for murder swelled within the ex-Turk's veins. Oh, this man would suffer greatly for interrupting their happiness. His soul would be torn in twain when Vincent inflicted force upon him.

Eyeing him with true malice, Vincent asked. "What do you want, Edwards?"

Reno's thin-lips revealed a malicious grin. "It's strange of you to ask, Valentine." He nodded to Yuffie. "You have something that doesn't belong to you."

A new shade of crimson filmed the gunman's eyes when Reno alluded to Yuffie. Even now, the putrid, little bastard was eyeing her like a luscious piece of meat. Oh, he would die for this crazed audacity. "She does not belong to you." He growled.

"And you think she belongs to you, Monster?"

Monster. Oh, how that forename turned his deepening rage into true, undying hatred. This boy would die before the night was over. Blood and small fragments of tissue would line this wondrous room with a warning. Never cross a demon with blind impudence.

"Reno!" Yuffie screeched behind her dark lover. "Stop it!"

"What?" He asked cynically. "I'm only calling him what he deserves!"

Reno stopped his cruel accusation as a throng of curious eyes watched the scene. Smirking in spiteful gratitude, the fiery Turk welcomed this new audience with open arms. Yes, a crowd would be even more helpful with his cause. Turning back to the opposed couple, he stared at this with a cruel, calculating expression. "Let me tell you a story, dear."

"Reno, leave us alone!" She roared in defiance.

"Listen." He spoke coldly. "Once upon a time on a night like this, there was a happy couple. This couple had just tied the knot and was residing within a new residence. Their friends," he stopped briefly, "gave them a celebration a king would be jealous of. Almost everyone was there, save one, who went to see they're unloving father.

"The couple sadly missed their friend, but celebrated their union with an unending barrage of parties and fête. Admirers and distant family bestowed gifts and best wishes, hoping their lives would be blessed. Everything seemed perfect, until an alleged friend betrayed them.

"This was not any normal act of betrayal, but one of a more deeper, darker intent. You see this friend lied to them about being, how shall we say, in control? This person deceived them under their own roof. The late night brought about more than a peaceful slumber for the oblivious couple. Their friend attacked and tried to murder them in cold blood. The motive: to simply kill them.

"The brave soldier lost half his face, whilst his wife lost the use of her leg. Scarred face and a broken leg were minor casualties their demonic friend imparted. You see the others unfortunately stopped the man, or rather, demon. They succeeded in ending his vindictive torture, but failed to placate their altered friend. And like a bat out of Hell, the demon left without a single regret."

Reno eyed Vincent with true disdain. "Vincent, did I get that right? I cannot remember if Cid stabbed you with the Venus Gospel or not."

The man in question said nothing, as he stood like a statue, unmoving. Bloody-eyes stare impassively at the opposing man. How dare he confess that in front of everyone, most of all, Yuffie? Another wave of anger coursed through his veins, when he noticed Reno's apparent sneer. Holding hostility at bay, he muttered in dark tones, "You dare criticize me, when you are no better? You are no more a monster than I, Turk?" He spat the name out like venom.

"At least, I don't change into a monster."

A new expression etched into Vincent's impassive visage. "Oh, but this monster could at least rid the world of another!" He growled, pointing the wicked claw toward Reno's chest. "You're playing with fire, boy. Don't make yourself regret ever laying eyes on me…"

"Oh! So you would murder me to keep Yuffie? Come now, surely you know you cannot win her! Christ, you are sick." He revealed a horrified expression. "Her and a thing like you? God, you're what, at least forty years older than her? I never relished the idea of you being that demented, Valentine. A pedophile and demon at the same time? I suppose that does suit your exotic tastes."

"Reno, I said to stop it!" Yuffie screamed with true conviction. "Leave us alone!"

The malicious Turk shook his head in certainty. "Oh, no, Yuffie, I cannot do that." Pointing to Vincent, he muttered, "Can you not see what he truly is? He is the one who scarred Cloud and broke Tifa's leg! He is the reason why there is such hostility wherever he goes! The others begged me not to tell you when I found out!" Turning his belligerent gaze to Vincent, he concluded. "You cannot touch something without destroying it!" He said, pointing to Yuffie's torn dress. "You are nothing but a monster!"

Yuffie shook her head in denial. This could not be. Vincent would never. And yet, what Reno was proposing seemed all too true. There was hostility within the eyes of everyone who faced Vincent. There was that edge of fear and instance of uncertainty wherever they went. But, he was so kind, so gentle, and so affectionate. He could never be a demon. Not even, if what he did was true, the others forgave him. And inwardly, she knew that.

However, she had to hear the truth from his lips. She had to know before this festering secret corroded and destroyed their relationship. What he kept from her was wrong, but so did the others. Everyone kept this secret from her. Why? Did they believe she would despise and fear him as well? Never. She would never fear the only man she truly knew---the only man she ever loved.

Turning to her guilt-ridden lover, she asked in a quiet voice, "Is it true, Vincent?"

Vincent looked away from her in shame. "It's true."

"You see, he admits it! The beast admits his crime!" Reno chimed in with subtle merriment.

"Oh, Vincent" she murmured with sadness. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her angelic voice tore his heart. Oh, fatal error. Now all was ruined. Reno would win, and he would lose the one thing that meant the most to him. And with this loss, he would fade into oblivion. But, she would at least know a black-hearted demon loved her with all of its soul. Shaking his head, he whispered, "Because, I did not want you to leave me like the others. I did not want you judge me in the respect I deserve. I wanted you to think of me as something more than a monster…"

Yuffie cast her eyes to the floor, wiping away stray saltine tears. "Vincent, you should have told me…"

"Yes, he should have." The curt remark cut through the chilling irony like a twisted knife. "But, at least you're safe." He amended, pushing Vincent aside. "Oh, Yuffie, I've missed you so much… You cannot imagine the regret I have born since I left you. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me."

Yuffie said nothing as he took her prone form into his cold arms. "I love you." He whispered viciously within her clogging ear.

"Reno I---" Yuffie stopped, tears falling from her beautiful-eyes.

He stopped her before uttering another word. Sealing her uncertain lips with a kiss, he swept back a loose tendril of russet. "Yuffie, I've wanted to say this since the moment I realized how much you truly mean to me."

Stepping back, Reno knelt before her and clasped her hand. "Yuffie Hikari Kisaragi, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" The final words fell from his ashen-lips, as a princess-cut diamond enclosed her ring finger.

"Oh Reno," Yuffie gazed into his eyes, her expression opaque. "I…I…"

Vincent watched the scene before him. It was over. She would accept his invitation within a matter of moments and then she would be his. So cruel was Fate to tangle with his tortured life. Once more, the cruel being tormented him with the dreams and aspirations of hope and love, and for what, a cruel joke? Life was truly amazing.

Unfortunately, he swiftly made his exit before hearing Yuffie's loving acceptance. Her promise to Reno was more than his demonic heart could bear. The sealing words would forever doom him, even if his enhanced hearing were not exposed to them. With one last, heartfelt look, Vincent left the ballroom in defeat. 

The throng of awed spectators did not seem to notice Vincent's departure as their gazes held the couple before them. A kneeling man professing his faults and saving her from a sinister being was truly romantic. Deepening wonderment filled many as they beheld their position. Unfortunately, none realized they're elicit dream was nothing more than a perceptive façade.

Brilliant aqua stared lovingly into chilled cerulean. Yuffie's controlled breathing beheld the doting male in front of her with growing disdain. What was he doing? Reno was never this kind, nor was he this loving. If her memory served her, he was quite the opposite. Never had he given her this much attention since their impromptu encounter. Even now, looking at him made her ill.

"Yuffie," he chuckled with remote discomfort. "You're supposed to say something."

"No."

An auburn brow rose in question. "No? What do you mean 'no'?" He asked with rising incredulity.

"No." Her voiced echoed throughout the silent corridor.

"Give me a reason, Yuffie." Reno asked with controlled malice.

Yuffie directed her gaze into his accusing-eyes. "I said, no, Reno. And I meant it! I will never you!" Shaking her head in apparent anger she growled, "I don't want to have anything to do with you!"

He rose from his weak position and forced her to look at him. "It's because of him, isn't it?" He accused with disdain. "You love that freak more than you do me!"

Yuffie violently pulled her hand from his. "Yes, I do! And, I will never leave his side! On that, I can promise you!"

"You're nothing more than his little whore, aren't you? You've fucked around with him, haven't you? I bet you're knocked-up with his demon spawn!" He grasped her arm with indictment.

Yuffie had always been a lady when it came to an argument. Curbing her anger had always been one of her greatest achievements. Regrettably, this was not one of those times to hold her resentment and turn the other cheek. Letting out a frustrated cry of annoyance, Yuffie pulled her arm free and slapped him. Pallid skin reddened as a visible handprint materialized.

She would have most likely laughed at her wonderful handy work, had it not been for the need to jump into her dark angel's arms and tell him how much he meant to her. Eyeing the crowd, her eyes failed to point her angel out.

He was gone.

Fear imbibed her tense body as she made her way through the coagulated crowd of bodies. Only one thing mattered to her at the moment, and that was getting to Vincent. Nothing else held significant importance, only the feel of Vincent's loving presence would ensure her aching heart. Nothing else could deter her from her mission, not even the sound of her former lover's protests of love and commitment.

Seething with unquenched fury, Reno began to pursue his wayward love. A firm grasp stopped his driven hunt. Eyeing his captor with unprecedented anger, he muttered, "Let…go…of…me, Rude."

"No." The bald man stated firmly.

"If you do not release me, I'll rip your fucking arm off!"

"Don't you see?" He confirmed with a stern voice. "She loves him! It's time to let her go, Reno! You cannot make her love you! And I'll be damned if I see you try!"

"Let me go!" He screeched.

"No." He muttered, holding his ground. 'Not until Yuffie has the chance to get to Valentine.'

The others rounded him with true malice, warning him to stay in place. Eyes of Avalanche and his alleged comrades watched him carefully. For the moment, he would bide his time and appease them. Then, he would return to her…   

It was in that moment, another thought of someone.

Darkness filled the room. The ceaseless of void of total dissolution beckoned all to join its macabre indulgences in selfish gratification. The deadened echoes of pain and trepidation resonated throughout the dense atmosphere, chilling all within their dismal path. And within the midst of these fettered voices, a solitary figure opposed their darkened chant.

Pianist-like fingers clenched into a rigid fist as veins rose from the pallid flesh. Betrayal, pain, and agony churned within the cold bold as the dead tissue revealed the violet veins in antipathy. The system of muscles and cells worked against their hosts desire to shove aside all care to survive. There was nothing to concern his aching heart now.

Everything was lost.                       

Everything he had hoped and dreamed of was now gone within a matter of minutes. The truth. Ah, the horrible, aching truth had viciously shattered everything he loved. The idea of a personal utopia with an angel was to no avail. He was forever damned to be tortured by the powers that be. And, within this harsh realization, he concluded its ending.

Fate truly abhors a twisted paradox. And, with doing this self-righteous blasphemy, he would laugh at the cynical being's disbelief, that he would go against its demented torture. His place in life had outlasted its usefulness. It was truly time to set things right and end this senseless masquerade one and for all.

And with that, Vincent Valentine grabbed the gun.

The Quicksilver's lustrous surface still held unparalleled beauty within its aging structure. For over thirty years, this gun had been his comrade, his guidance, and his conscience. The metal being gave life, an also, took it without a moment's notice. This archaic weapon represented the man who wielded it, cold and heartless.

And yet, it was not too long ago that it helped save a life. The selfless act of preserving a young heiress' life was possibly the only occasion it fired something that was truly the enemy. And now, it would do one last errand for its master and ends its career in bloodshed.

Vincent pulled to the edge of his firm-lips and stared at the dark barrel with an impassive expression. Cool crimson dissected the intricate metal designs on the side. His initials, written in bold, gothic letter gleamed within the moonlight. It was time to end this. This senseless torture was only making his existence a little more unbearable.

With one last look Vincent opened his lips and allowed the gun to lie dangerously upon the damp flesh. A human finger idly rested upon the trigger, waiting for the initiative to complete the final action. Moving closer to the trigger's switch, Vincent allowed a staggered breath to leave his tired lungs. It was time.

His finger moved within the moonlight.

And stopped.

At the last moment, he pulled the weapon away from his mouth and stared at the gun in growing horror. On the gun's left side was a thin streak of dirt. Heart-wrenching memories flooded his torn mind from the dirt's origin, the muddy quagmire beyond the Mythril Mine. Gods, being stopped by the very reason he wished to take his life. How ironic.

Pain seethed within his scarred chest as another memory, one more vivid and new, haunted his mind. A loving pair of sapphire orbs staring lovingly into his garnet ones besieged his mind in an endless barrage of torturing blows. Yuffie. Oh God, Yuffie. Why? Why did she have to stop him from ending his pain? Why?

Another severe convulsion throbbed within his chest. This unending pain would be the death of him if it didn't cease its attack. Letting out a cry of defeat, the torn gunslinger dropped the gun to the floor, also falling with it.

Desperation filled his eyes as salty tears fell from them. His hands seized solace within his pants pockets, hoping to alleviate some pain. It did. Something cool and comforting calmed his left hand. Mindlessly, he seized the minute comfort to see brilliant bands of sapphire stones set in a fashionable bracelet. Oh gods… It couldn't be.

In a ditch-effort, Vincent dropped the bracelet and grasped his aching ribs. Something within him stirred, as if demanding to be set free. Only one thing could hold so much power within his weakened state. Chaos. Oh blessed Osiris, the demon could not come! Not now. Not like this. He couldn't allow the demon to ruin more lives tonight.

Unfortunately, the mindless demon had other plans. With a scream of heartfelt woe, Vincent felt victim to his inner demon, allowing Chaos reign his beleaguered form. Dark, violet wings burst from his scarred back, as black blood oozed from the gaping wounds. His human hand, as the rest of his body began to turn a light shade of purple. Fangs already began to replace his normal, canine teeth. Chaos would exist within another moment.

All consciousness was already beginning to fade from his tired mind---it was time to give into the illicit demon and accept his demonic nature. With a last shred of consciousness, he felt a slight presence of something, or rather, someone else within the room.

"Vincent?"

Ah, the simple name echoed throughout the room like a thousand heralding demons screeching their sheer contempt for righteousness. And yet, that angelic voice tore through their screeching mantra like an ethereal blade. Within that moment, he gained a sense of perception and turned toward his saviour's origin.

Smooth sapphire gazed deeply into his demonic ears as tears began to fall from them. Whatever shred of his other self was gone. For within that moment, he felt her cleansing touch penetrate his skin. Her comforting embrace stripped all pain away as she tightly held onto his frail body. "Oh, Vincent," her angelic tone soothed the chilling air.

"Yuffie?" He asked, praying to the gods this was not a dream.

"Vincent," she muttered in-between staggered sobs. "Don't leave me! Please, don't leave me!"

His demonic heart felt as if it would shatter. Was she actually begging him not to leave her? Oh gods, this had to be real. Otherwise, this heaven would truly be his hell.

"Oh God, Yuffie." He cried into her hair. "Why did you come here?"

She shielded her expression within the torn shreds of his shirt and sobbed, "Because, I need you."

"Yuffie," Vincent bit his lip in mental pain. "You know what I've done, and yet, you return to me. Why would you waste your time with a monster?"

"You're not a monster, Vincent!" She said fiercely. "You'll never be something like that to me! I don't care about what the others think! I want you!" Another set of tears escaped her. "Please, don't leave me!"

"Yuffie, I could harm you, even kill you. I'm not able to control Chaos. I almost lost control just now."

"But you didn't!" Yuffie vented. "You didn't, Vincent! I don't know about the other times, but Chaos has never harmed me! And I know, he never will! In the Nibelheim Mountains, I was face-to-face with your other form and shielded me from a pack of wolves, Vincent.

"I know how you despise being more than a normal man, but you have saved me with your enhanced abilities." She wiped away a stray tear. "Even now, you cannot feel the demon within you, can you? Vincent, Chaos is a part of you, and you must accept it," she hesitated. "I do."

"How can you tie yourself to a monster, though? How can you bear the idea of me changing into something grotesque and horrid, Yuffie? Can you bear to witness me tear something to shreds before your very eyes?"

"Yes." She said meekly. "Yes, I can, Vincent. Because, I know, deep down, it's a man I…" She hesitated, but he had to know. Right here, at this very moment, he had to know the truth.

With true valor, Yuffie uttered the long-forbidden words. "Because, I love you, Vincent. I love you so much that it hurts me to know that I will be a lone without you… I know you probably don't feel the same, but I---"

"Shh," he murmured, placing a metal finger to her swollen-lips.

His heart raced the moment he heard her endless conjectures of love. In that true untainted moment, all hopes of saving her from a life of bearing his presence was selfishly cast aside. Yuffie was his now. Her confession damned to an eternity by his side. No longer would he question her feelings toward him, he held all evidence of her infinite devotion. And now, it was time to bestow his.

Pulling her against his chest, Vincent nestled her tangled hair lovingly. "Shh, my angel, don't cry. I hate to see you cry, Yuffie." He wiped a string of tears away from her reddened orbs.

"Vincent?" She asked with a hint of uncertainty.

"Oh God, help me." He muttered. "Yuffie, I cannot let you go now. I cannot allow you to leave me, because it would shatter my soul if I lost you." He paused a moment before finally giving in to his damning confession. "I love you for eternity, Yuffie. I have loved you it seems since the beginning of time. I know it's sudden, but I know I cannot spend another moment here without you. Please, promise me you'll stay by my side."    

For the first time since their embrace, Yuffie gazed into his pleading-eyes and saw the love within the bloodied orbs. What her lover said was true---he honestly loved her. Biting her lip, she silently reached a decision. "Forever," she murmured with certainty. "I will give you the rest of my life, and what is beyond it."

Tears welled within his eyes, the quick affirmation soothing his soul. "You will not regret your decision, Yuffie."

"I know I won't. I'm with you!" Her wavering smile melded into a more confident, concrete one. Her eyes held him with assured love. However, something on the floor caught her attention.

Bending down, she picked up what seemed to be an intricate bracelet. The dark, azure stones gleamed radiantly within the silvery moonlight. Her questioning gaze sought her lover's guilty expression. Caught.

A questioning grin touched her lips. "Vincent, where did you…"

"I think you know."

"The Gold Saucer. How? Why?"

Vincent smiled at her pinched, eyebrows. Truly, she was quite beautiful when perplexed. "Dio made an offer. Thirteen battles for the bracelet, I accepted because, I wanted you to have it."

Yuffie pressed the fragile bracelet against her chest. "No wonder you were tired that night. And to think I dragged you on that Gondola Ride! I feel terrible!" She shook her head in guilt. "You didn't have to do this, Vincent. I don't deserve this…"

"You probably didn't then, but I think it fits a purpose now." He nodded with visible conceit. "Yuffie, before we were interrupted, I wanted to present this to you with a small proposal…" He watched her all-knowing smile and continued. "I think you know what I'm going to ask."

"If it is what I think it is, then I want to hear it!"

Vincent shook his ebon mane in defeat. "You realize you're taking all of the hesitation out of it, don't you?"

"I know, but I've never been impractical. You, of all people know that."

"I know. Unfortunately, I won't heed them." He whispered with slight amusement. "My princess of Wutai, seventeenth descendent of the Wutainese throne of the Kisaragis," he greeted with a formal bow. "Will you marry the enemy of your family, and become my beloved wife?"

"Yes." She murmured, feeling the cool bracelet's embrace around her tiny wrist.

"I apologize for it not being an engagement ring. Once, we get to a proper jeweler we can---"

"No, I want this, Vincent. It's far better than any diamond you could possibly give me."

Vincent noticed her bare finger, which had once held Reno's gaudy band. "You got rid of it?"

Yuffie glanced carelessly at her naked finger. "I had no need of false promises, Vincent." She said holding the bracelet in his sight. "This is a true promise."

No words were said between them as he took her hand in his and kissed the tiny, milk-white knuckles. His scarlet-eyes trailed over her curved form, noticing every curve and indention. His impervious gaze noticed the torn portion of her sheer dress. Shame filled him when he noticed the slight trace of blood from four tiny lines.

He glanced at his claw with new hatred---he caused this. "Your dress is ruined." He bent his dark head in shame. "I'm sorry for damaging it."

As if a ruined dress would make her hate him! "I don't care about the damage---it can be fixed. Chekhov is skilled seamstress. I don't doubt her ability to make it look just as it did. Besides, I sort of like the gaping hole, look. I believe it suits me!"

"It does." He murmured, not trying to hide his wolfish smile. "I can see some very attractive, very tender flesh, there."

She giggled when he teased her tender side. "Stop it!" She warmed, laughter escaping her stern voice.

"No. I believe I will not stop it, dear."

"Hey, you better be nice to me, Vincent! I just agreed to spend the rest of my days putting up with you! Don't make me regret my decision!"

True, mirthful laughter escaped him. Taking her into his comforting arms, he nestled her smooth cheek with his, and whispered, "You'll never regret staying with me. I will spend each second of my life trying to make you happy."

"Us, Vincent." She corrected with a smile. "We will spend the rest of our live trying to a utopia for ourselves. That is, if you're willing to help me?"

The former Turk kissed her sweet-lips in conformation. "Yes, this is merely the beginning. On this I promise you."

Before she could answer, an ominous voice, followed by a loud pound came from the closed door. "Yuffie," the demented voice screeched. "I know you're in there with that animal! Open up!"

"Oh God…" Her voice choked the rest of her sentence.

Vincent glanced at the door and then to Yuffie. Seizing her attention, he quickly uttered, "Yuffie, do you trust me?"

"With my life." There was no hesitation within her voice.

Nodding once, he quickly halted her into his strong arms and moved toward the glass windows. Eyeing her with concrete certainty, he let out a single breath and opened the locked panes. Yuffie glanced behind his beloved captor's back and noticed the chaotic wings.

She had completely forgotten about the abnormal appendages when she dashed to embrace him. Even now, she gazed at them with sheer amazement. Vincent was truly beautiful---a sensual dark angel. Ah yes, and he was finally hers.

The strident knocking, or rather, banging came from the door once more. It would be a matter of time before the sturdy wood would give into Reno's harsh inflictions. And then, there would be hell to pay. If only, they could escape. If only, she did not have to stare into Reno's iniquitous gaze ever again. If only, Vincent could take her away…

And yet, why did she feel a slight sense of confidence from him? Looking deeply into the sanguine drops of crimson, she knew that was his intention. Escaping this cruel, manmade hell was the plan after all. Gods, great minds truly thought alike.

"Yuffie, hold on to me, and do not let go." He instructed sternly. "All right?"

She briefly nodded, before feeling a sudden wisp of cool wind slide against her warm face. Closing her eyes, she felt the warmth emitting from his chest and arms. The torn shirt would have to be replaced once they reached their destination. The question was, where were the going? Vincent would certainly have planned a place to stay, considering they only escaped with the clothing on their backs. Literally.

Yuffie's thoughts were halted when she heard the door give and a final scream emitting from the voice of her former love. The cry of anger mixed with true desolation echoed throughout the dense atmosphere. Her heart suddenly felt heavy for the man she once felt pity for. No more. Reno did not deserve to be pitied for what he done this night. No. He would receive none from her.

Someone else would have to sacrifice they're heart to placate that man---she refused. Her heart already surrendered itself to the man before her. His comforting presence brought upon a new feeling contentment and delight. Vincent was her future.

"Vincent?" She asked with undying devotion.

He glanced at her, eyes full of love. "Yes, Yuffie?"

"Where are we going?"

A smile of utter serenity reached his lips. His heart pounded when he whispered his answer. "Home, my love. Home."

Yuffie returned the smile, knowing exactly what he meant. Turning her face toward the dark horizon, she noticed the sky's canvas of stars. However, one more steadfast, more constant pointed toward their destination---and their future. Her heart beat at the same pace as his with the wondrous realization that this was forever, and their lives were only beginning, if they only seized that chance…

And they would, because they found each other. Life seemed brighter, and more promising. And it would be, it truly would be. Angel and demon had finally found their place within Fate's intricate designs. And how blissfully ironic it was.

Author's Note: Right…I don't believe I'll say anything.

Other than, don't damn me just yet! There will be an epilogue, I promise you that! Please, bear with me, until it's posted!

Oracle Thunder, you were right in your last review. You read my mind---scary! I'm glad you picked up on it! I was trying to be subtle; I suppose I didn't fail after all! ^_^

Until next post, have a wonderful day! ^_^