Flirting with Death, Chapter 15:

Security Cloak

By Darknightdestiny

Vincent walked up to the counter at the Icicle Inn, Tifa following quietly behind him. She was still in a mild state of shock, and she hadn't even said anything to him about it yet. His eyes wandered about the workspace behind the counter; there was no one attending the position. He turned around and leaned against the counter, his elbows propped up on the surface.

Tifa watched him from her vantage point beside his still form. She could now see the way his bangs fell over his face and framed it just so. They were much longer than they were in his youth…she felt strange thinking of it that way…but they stole her attention either way. She decided she had to stop this. Any moment he would catch her, and then she'd want to apologize for doing the same thing she was just doing less than half an hour ago.

As she was thinking this, a short and pudgy man came out of the back room and settled himself at the counter. Vincent righted himself slowly and turned around to face the man. He cleared his throat and spoke rather softly but with a purpose.

"We will need two rooms…"

"Sure, I can do that for- hey….never seen eyes like that before! Where're you from, son?"

Tifa looked up at Vincent, unsure of what she should be doing. She'd never heard anybody actually comment about Vincent's unusual appearance to his face, much less start asking questions. She wondered what he would do…

"…with showers…" he continued, ignoring the man's questions.

The man just scratched his head. "Uh…okay!" he wasn't going to push the matter, "How long'll that be for?"

Vincent glanced over at Tifa, who looked like she was not quite ready to answer that question. He then turned his gaze back to the man.

"…We will return." He walked away.

Tifa, unsure of what just happened, followed him to the fireplace where he stood in front of the mantle. After watching the flames for a bit, he turned to her, expectantly.

"I guess you're wondering how long we're staying?" she asked, a bit nervously.

He nodded.

"Do we have to decide that right now?"

He shrugged.

Tifa couldn't help noticing the way he was standing, rigid as ever with his arms folded against his chest. He turned back to the fire and they immediately relaxed by his side.

"Vincent?" she asked.

"…" He did not turn.

"Hey there. Do you think I could get a look at you when I have something to say?" she asked lightheartedly as she walked around to his side.

He could have said 'No,' or 'You have already had plenty of chances to look, it would seem,' or anything else along those lines, but he didn't. Instead he turned to her like he was before, his arms folded across his chest again, like he was putting up another wall to keep her out.

"…I have…been thinking about many things."

"A gil for your thoughts," she offered.

"It is nothing you should worry about."

"Vincent, if something's bothering you, I'd be happy to listen…" her voice was soft and sympathetic now, even though she didn't know the thoughts that plagued his mind.

"…You will need something warmer to wear," he said finally.

"Oh. Yes, I guess I will…if that was it, you could have just said so. Alright, well I'll go and find something…will you take care of the rooms?"

"Yes."

"Alright, so I'll meet you back here then. I'll see you in a bit."

"…You will need money."

She smiled up at him. "I have money." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't worry, I won't keep you waiting too long." Tifa walked away towards the ski shop.

Vincent walked over to the counter and cleared his throat again to get the attention of the man working. "…We will be staying for three days. If we decide to extend our stay, I will be sure to let you know. You can move us to another location, if you wish…"

"Well, alrighty! That'll work just fine…I can put you in…rooms thirty-four and thirty-five." He handed Vincent two keys. Just tell me if there're any problems…"

Vincent nodded his head and walked away. He already liked this man much better than the one at Rocket Town. Not that it mattered to him anyway; it was more like he was the least irritated by this one, given that he didn't make any rude insinuations about him and Tifa.

Just as he was thinking this, he spotted the woman in question in the shop window, still looking at the coat rack. He walked inside the store, trying to attract as little attention as possible- he'd already received several glances from the various guests because of his golden claw-hand. He stood near the doorway to the shop, watching her for a minute as she ran her hand along the fabrics, looking for the perfect match.

He stepped forward and held the key out for her at eye level by the numbered card-chain, so that the golden key dangled down in front of her. Finally she caught sight of it and saw whose arm was attached to it. Stepping away from the rack, she reached out and took it from his hand, smiling softly at him. She had decided the best thing to try to do around him would be to act natural.

"Thanks," she said. "I've found the one I want…you can have this back now," she offered as she began to remove the cloak. "This thing is heavy…and I felt a little lopsided in it."

'I cannot believe I let that slip my mind…' he thought- the book, of course. He took the bundle of satin and metal from her and discretely slipped his hand inside to make sure the book was still there, held by one of the metal straps under the folds. He wasn't quite ready to tell her that he knew yet, and he didn't want to embarrass her. It was there, as he'd hoped.

She gave it up, a bit sad to let go of the warmth they'd both left behind and the scent it carried, pine and gun smoke.

"…I will be upstairs in my room."

"Uh…where is it?"

"Room thirty-five. It is right next to your own."

"Oh, okay. I'll just finish up here and then I'll be up."

Tifa turned over and over again on the bed. She looked over at the radio-clock, which still flashed the time of late afternoon. She couldn't think of anything to do, and she didn't have any idea of where to start when it came to figuring herself out. She'd already found herself some warm clothes and taken a shower, and she'd already sat by the window and watched the snow fall sporadically for about half an hour.

'What to do, what to do…'

Vincent heard a knock at his door. He hadn't been expecting anybody's company, but he naturally assumed it would be Tifa, so he got up from the bed and went to answer it. When he opened the door, he found himself facing some strange kid with scruffy hair.

"Good evening, sir. Would you like some extra towels?"

Vincent shook his head and closed the door. Then he went back to bed.

Five minutes later, he heard another knock on the door. He hadn't asked for anything, and so he again assumed it would be Tifa. He got up from bed and went to answer the door.

It was the same kid with the scruffy hair.

"Sir, a complementary bottle of wine for yourself and the lady you came with?"

"…No thank you," Vincent said, and reached for the door. The kid stuck his foot inside to stop him.

"It's on the house."

Vincent sighed and took the wine. The kid held out his hand, expecting to get a tip.

Vincent shut the door.

Tifa lay there in her bed for about forty more minutes, not even thinking about Vincent this time. She had one leg propped up, and the other was stretched out before her as she played with the leather of her new black pants. After that became boring enough, she started to play with her long hair. Try as she might, she just didn't know what she had left to find. She didn't know what she was searching for, or why she wasn't satisfied with life in Midgar. Wanting to get some fresh air, she hopped down from the bed and pulled her new white, fleece hoodie over her head and then pulled on her boots. Her gloves, she kept equipped to fend off the cold.

Tifa walked over to the door and pulled it open, letting the cooler air drifting down the hallway refresh her skin. It felt so nice that she decided she would go for a walk. Looking at the door across from her, she wondered if she should ask Vincent to join her. It might be good for him, and maybe she would get to ask him some questions, although…he might not be too receptive to that idea…

Throwing caution to the wind, Tifa went over and knocked on his door.

Vincent sat up in bed. He would try once more, just one more time. If it was that kid at the door again, he would stop right then and there and go to sleep. But…he had a feeling that Tifa might want someone to talk to. He probably wouldn't have much to say, but he was willing to lend an ear. Reluctantly, he lowered his feet to the floor and walked over to the door…

And was relieved to find Tifa standing in front of him.

"Vincent…I was just going to go out for a walk, and I was wondering if maybe you would like to come?"

"…" Vincent thought about this for a while. Maybe he could help Tifa out with the sorrows she wouldn't admit to having, and on the plus side, he wouldn't have to deal with that kid, should he come around again. Then again, if he did, he could just go ahead and tip him…with his claw-hand…

"You don't have to come if you don't want to. I was just thinking, since I don't usually get to spend time with you…I mean, until a few days ago, I hadn't even seen you in five months, but…I don't know. Maybe you'd like to just…walk? Talk?"

"…I will walk with you."

"Thanks, Vincent."

He followed her out the door and they walked down the hallway and out the front door.

"Vincent, can I ask you something?"

They had been walking for a while, just around the town and on the outskirts, eventually wandering near where they had left the Bronco. All this time they had been in silence, and it was starting to make Tifa uncomfortable. She was used to Vincent being more silent than most people, but she was a very expressive person, and she had hoped that he would start to say more to her than just the simple replies he was used to giving. It seemed that whenever she was around Vincent, everything was simply what needed to be done- business. Not unlike the Turks…

"…You may."

"And you'll answer me? Because I want an honest answer."

"…If I answer you, it will be honest."

"Vincent, why did you come with me?"

"If I recall correctly, you did ask me to come along…"

"I know that, but what made you agree to come?"

"…You want an honest answer?"

"Yes, that's what I said."

Vincent bowed his head and watched his feet as he walked. He'd said he would be honest, but he wasn't good with choosing words; he knew what he wanted to say, he just always seemed so cold when he said it. It wasn't his fault; usually having a cynical viewpoint on life will eventually affect other aspects of a person's personality. But the whole reason he had come along wasn't because of cynicism, or at least, not towards her. He did still believe himself to be a lost cause.

After a while he was finally able to let all these thoughts sink in, and he replied with, "It was something to do."

He could have told her that he had wanted to help her find herself again, that it hurt to see someone as kind as her lose her sense of direction, or even that he was beginning to feel a care towards her as a friend- a friend he didn't feel he deserved to have. He didn't want someone like her to feel his emptiness.  But to hear that from him might have given her a heart attack.

"Oh," she said. She sounded a bit disappointed, and he could tell by the tone of her voice.

He felt that he should amend for this, and so he added, "I will…elaborate on that answer if you will answer a question for me."

"What is it?"

He hesitated. He was wondering if he could pull this from her or if she would keep it a secret from him. "…Why the sudden curiosity in my face?"

Tifa avoided the answer to that question, just as he expected her to. Instead, she tried to distract him with a compliment, as sincere as it was. "You should show it off more than you do."

"…Why do you say that?" His voice was low, like he was trying to tell her that she was wrong to think so.

"You have a nice face, Vincent. I can't understand why you hide it."

"…"

"Am I right? I think you know that I am."

"…I have never been one to judge by appearances, Tifa. Though presentation… that becomes an entirely different issue."

"But what does that mean? When I talk to you and you're wearing that thing, I feel so far away from you."

"That is the only way you have ever known me until today. How would you know the difference?"

"So you put the wall up on purpose?"

"…Presentation. Why pretend to be something I am not?"

Rather, he was denying himself of the things he could be, while Tifa didn't even really know who he was. But Vincent, who was ever the silent observer throughout all of their past days spent together, knew many things about Tifa that she probably didn't even realize herself. They had both lost their way, and each thought they were there to help the other.

Tifa sighed. "Fine. So, will you tell me why you agreed to come along with me?"

"…I do not believe that you answered the question I posed."

"Yes I did."

"That was not the answer I was looking for."

"I am never going to get a straight answer out of you, am I?"

"…Maybe if you try harder…"

"That's not very nice."

"…"

Tifa sighed again, this time in defeat. "Do you want to get something to eat?"

Vincent waited for a bit, thinking about the offer.

"You know, sometimes you just come out with what you want to say, be it as harsh as it sometimes is," Tifa said, "but sometimes it really does amaze me how much time you can spend on one trivial decision."

He smiled underneath his cloak. If he had only left it off, Tifa would have been able to see it.

"…Dinner would be nice."

By helping each other, they could help themselves. It would only be a matter of time before they began to understand this, their new purpose.

(A/N): Ahem…tell me if Vincent's character seems to be moving to quickly. Even if it is…there's going to be some backtracking as well…he's not going to move forward at a steady pace. Why? Because he is who he is. ::smirks::

Reviews are appreciated, as always. Thank you for reading my chapter!