Only An Aimless Traveller

By: RoGuE MiStReSs

Disclaimer: Do I LoOk LiKe SoMeOnE wHo cOuLd OwN tHeSe ChArAcTeRs!? OOC, I apologize, but it explains why! I promise! Note: I "obtained" Yuffie and Vincent right before the Temple of the Ancients, meaning that I had everyone else before Yuffs, so that would explain any questions that you might have! So, READ AND REVIEW!

Chapter One: Aimlessly Wondering Traveller With A Bitchy Attitude

Storms rolled toward the beach of Costa del Sol. The waves crashed against the rocks that jutted out on either side of the public beach. No one was out that evening, too busy getting drunk in the taverns, finding something to do away from the storm, staying indoors at all costs. Save for one, pehaps. An aimlessly wondering traveller with more mud on their clothes than most mud puddles. Straight leg jeans, combat boots, and a cloak that concealed the rather short person's lower face and torso, a hood hid the travller's hair.

The black cloak whipped around the traveller ferociously, but they seemed not to notice. A man, running quickly toward the tavern in the middle of town, called out a quick warning of the approaching storm. The traveller, however, did not heed the man's advice of running to the inn. Instead, the proud, ebony-haired traveller walked in his or her slow pace toward the beach. Grey storms clouds reflected the color of the person's eyes perfectly, as they raised toward the heavens.

As the first drop of rain landed on the traveller's face, its brethern soon joined it in its high-speed march toward the ground below and the heavens seemed to cry. Ebony hair was soon slicked back and clung to their face, long strands obscurring the view until an elegant hand with long nails brushed the soaked hair back into the hood. Grey eyes scanned the desolate town, until laughter rang in their ears. With a simplt sigh and a resolute nod, the traveller walked toward the tavern where the laughter was coming from. Perhaps a drink would soothe the burning in his or her throat. Perhaps they would run into an old comrade.

The lights of the tavern were dim, reflecting the traveller's hopes of meeting an old friend, or perhaps making a new one. The bar keep smiled merrily to the soaked traveller. "Come! What will you have?"

Grey eyes focused on the large, balding bar keep, then fell to the counter. "A beer," a feminine voice flowed melodically from the depths of the black cloak, nearly startling the middle-aged man. The traveller was a woman? What a surprise, to have a woman in his bar once again. Most women were too high and mighty to come to his lowly establishment. Unless they were in business, of course.

His wide brown eyes flickered over to a few of the local girls, clad in their normal ensemble of knee-high boots with three-inch spike heels, leather mini skirts, fishnet tights, and low cut, very revealing tops. Her grey eyes also looked over, a discreet smirk creeping across her features, hidden by her cloak. "I am not in business, Keep. I am tired and need a good dose of alchol after my long journey." Their eyes met in an understanding manner.

He nodded. "I'm sorry, ma'am, it's just that-" he cut hismelf off, catching the look of impatience in her storm shrouded eyes, and went to get her beer.

"No glass, I can drink it like a man," she said in her ever soft, ever melodic alto voice. He nodded again and handed her the brown bottle full of bitter yellow liquid. Taking the bottle and placing a shiny coin on the counter, she walked over to an empty table in the far corner.

The bar keep shook his head and let out a breath. "Freaky," he muttered. "And probably deadly." He picked up the coin and shit brown orbs widened. "And bloody rich..." He looked over at two men standing off to the side, who grinned wolfishly and nodded.

Grey eyes took in the scene. Idiots drank, hookers flirting with them, two large men stood beside the counter. Wait - Two men, standing around, not bouncers, and not drinking. "Jackpot," she said in a low whisper.

Feeling someone watching her, she looked across the room and storm clouds met the sky so blue. The bald man flashed her a quick smirk, then turned back to the three also sitting at his table. A woman with nearly yellow blonde hair and true hazel eyes chatted away merrily with the dark-skinned, but quiet bald man. A man with red-tinted dark brown hair and matching goatee watched his red-head friend with concern in his nearly black eyes. The red-haired, zircon-eyed man was drinking an awful lot, but holding his own.

"Well, well." she muttered softly to herself. "The Turks and Reeve. Isn't this. . . Unique?"

The bald man, whom she knew as Rude, glanced over again, and a smile lit her face, mischievousness in her grey eyes. Shedding the black cloak and setting it on the back of the chair next to her, she knew that Rude would tell Elena and Reeve who she was. Her long coal black hair fell nearly waist length and needed cut badly, though she doubted anyone would care in such a miserable joint. Her top was merely a forest green tank top, revealing her flat, ivory midriff.

Rude nudged Reeve and Elena, then indicated toward the mysterious woman. Reeve's mouth fell open and the ninja flashed a smirk at the man. He walked over, his drink in hand, the red-head following with his own drink. "Yuffie?" he asked in a low whisper, so no one could over-hear.

"The one and only."

The president of Jaunts, Inc. studied her pretty face. Though she was young, she looked much older. Gone was the goofy smile that she used to wear in their AVALANCHE days, while Reeve hid behind the computer screen, watching everyone from a camera on his toy, Cait Sith. Gone was the evil glimmer in her eyes. Gone was the sixteen-year-old ninja whom they had found in the woods near Junon.

"How. . . How are you here? You are supposed to be-"

"Dead?" Her pale pink lips turned down into an upside down smile. "No, I'm very alive. Godo, Chekov, Shake, Staniv, and Gorki are ignorant fools. They thought that banishing me would solve their problem, but it didn't. Then, my, er, fiancee and I split ways. They found a mutilated body, correct?" Reeve nodded once. "It was Leon's, not mine, as you can tell. We split, he couldn't defend himself, not my problem."

Reno blinked at her once. . . Twice. . . "Shit," he breathed. "You basically killed him!"

Her grey eyes looked up at him, distaste written cearly across her features. "Why did they banish you?" Reeve asked.

The look of mishief making from their AVALANCHE days appeared in her grey eyes. "I'm a prankster, Reeve. You, of all people, should know that. They pissed me off, I played a prank." She took a swig from the bottle, chugging a little better than half of it before setting the beer back down on the table.

Reno watched her intently. "Damn. I thought that 'Laney was the only chick who could do that."

"Well, you're an idiot. Excuse me," Yuffie said with an air of pure arrogance about her. She stood and fastened her cloak, flipping up the hood.

"Yuffie!" Reeve called as she reached for the door. She paused, but did not turn around. "You're welcome to help us."

She turned slowly and looked from him to Reno, then over at Elena, who nodded agreeably, and Rude. "I might take ya up on the offer. . . If the need be." With that, she walked out into the storm, the harsh winds tossing her cloak once again, the rain slapping against the already damp black cloth that was covering her.

Her eyes scanned the small town and rested on the summer house that Cloud had bought when he'd reached Costa del Sol the first time, she had not been present, but they spent an awful lot of time there before going to battle the Great Sephiroth, who turned out to be a Mommy's Boy. With an inward sigh, she walked toward the inn. The door was open, so she merely slinked inside as a cat might do.

As she slid her hood off, the young couple at the counter gasped. "Your kind isn't wanted here!" the blonde woman said with a "hick" accent.

"What do you mean, 'my kind'?" Yuffie voice was curious, but dangerous at the same time.

The man stepped forward, a shot gun in his hands. "Rogues! Wonderers! You're all trouble!"

Yuffie shook her head. "Listen, kid. I'm not going to be staying long and there's no one after me. Let me stay one night."

The couple shot her glares and shook their heads. With a growl of frustration and anger, the woman flipped her hood back up and walked out. "What is a wonderer to do without anyone to miss them while they lay dying in the streets?" Leon's voice came back to her again. She swallowed hard, not really feeling the bitter wind or the cold rain hitting her skin.

"If they are a true wonderer, they'll lay dying until their angel appears. . ." she had replied with tears in her eyes. "Please, don't do this, Squall. You know that you can't fight them like this!"

"It's Leon, not Squall, Yuffie. . ." The tall, well-built young man chuckled and kissed her forehead. His icy blue eyes, so much like her own, yet so different, sparkled with an unknown glimmer. "Be my angel, Yuffie. But don't hesitate to run if need be. I'll manage. Besides, it's only a bunch of drunk-ass bandits! What harm can they do?"

"Too damn much, Squall," she murmured into the black cloak that he had bought her when they first got kicked out of Wutai. "Way too damn much. . ." She heard their loud booted feet before she actually saw the two men from the tavern. Once they appeared, however, they spotted her as well.

"Well," the larger of the two said with glee in his eyes. "How ya doin', ma'am? Got some'm good on ye?"

Her eyes remained down cast. "What would make you think I'm even female? How do you know I'm not a gay guy?" The men looked at each other confusedly, and she dropped her cloak. "But, I suppose since you saw me in the tavern, we'd better get this over with, huh?"

The guys, whom she had dubbed Jimbo and K.C. out of lack of anything better, leered at her, nearly drooling over the gil they thought they would get from the materia hunter/thief/ninja. She pulled out a sword from a sheath at her side. On the black sheath were three things. The first was a dragon breathing fire. The second, two angel wings in pure red. The third, Y.K. S.L. in Wutain script with a wilting rose. She had added it herself after Squall Leonheart, her lover and fiancee, her reason to live, had died six years before.

Jimbo, the shorter of the two with long greasy black hair that she was sure would be three or more shades lighter if it was ever washed, stepped forward, a gun in his hand. "Now, Missy, come with me."

She cocked her head to the left, her grey eyes silently pleading with him to shoot her and end her misery. "And why, pray tell, would I do that?" She hardly recognized her own voice, the Wutain accent deciding to come back for an unknown reason. She shoved it to the back of her mind, blaming it on the adrenaline rush of the upcoming fight. "I neither know you or K.C. back there, so why would I, an aimlessly wondering traveller with no friends or family, go with you?" She knew that they would be intent on killing her now, especially since she was only a rogue, something that most inns, and people for that matter, despised.

He grinned, revealing that he had maybe one or two teeth left. "C'mon, Rogue Mistress, let's go!"

As he reached for her wrist, she brought the sword in a horizontal jab, impaling him on the blade. "Next," she called like a secretary. K.C. looked at his friend and ran the other way. "Thought not. . ." Without another word to the dead body at her feet, she wiped her blood-covered blade on his shirt, then sheathed it and fastened her cloak back on.

"Take it and run, Yuffs. . ."

"Squall, I can't leave you!"

A weak smile formed on his blood-stained lips. "Run now, or they'll catch up to you." He brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face. "I love you, Angel. . ." His once so heartless icy eyes were full of the love and compassion that she craved and needed.

The eighteen-year-old gazed down into her nine-year-older lover's eyes. "Please, Leon," she begged softly.

He let out a painful laugh that sent a spear straight into her heart. "You didn't. . . Call. . . Me Sq-" Cough cough. "Squall." A smile crossed his handsome face, only marred by a scar that went diagonally from above his right eye to below his left. His breathing was labored. "Run, Yuffie. . . Run. . ."

The bandits were coming closer and her lover was dead. She took the sword and sheath from her lover's corpse and ran, her black cloak fluttering madly as she did so. "I love you," hung in the air around the corpse, even the bandits knew that someone else had been there recently. Dismissing it as the legend of a wonderer's angel, they took everything from his body and proceeded to chop it up to destroy any evidence.

Yuffie collapsed several miles away from where she left her lover near Destroyed Midgar. In the distance, she could see Kalm Town, a quaint little place where two of her friends were married and living. "Leon," she murmured, then drew her legs up to her chest and sobbed. "Gawd, Squall! Why!? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MY ANGEL! MY angel, not. . . Dead. . ." Sobs racked her body and slurred her speech as she cried out her love for the deceased man, nearly chopped to bits by then.

The sound of boots on concrete knocked her out of her reminiscing and she looked up from her seat on the wet ground. "You," she said ever-so softly.

"Me," he replied, a faint smirk on his face.

- AuThOrEsS nOtEs -

Hiya! This is my first FF7 fan fic! Actually, it's my first fic that I've ever posted! Originally, my name was Hacker the Thief, but I grew bored of that simple name, so now I'm Rogue Mistress! Excuse my use of my own name in there, but I thought that it was appropriate! I'm begging you all! REVIEW! I love leaving reviews! I don't think I've ever left a flame, though. . . So, if you're going to leave a flame, make sure it's tactfully written! I know that this fic seems kinda dark right now, but it SHOULD (Memo: SHOULD!!!) lighten up somewhat. I know that Squall Leonheart (Leon's so sexy!) is from Kingdom Hearts and, before that, FFVIII, but I wanted to have him in here too, 'cuz I LOVE Squffies almost as much as Reffies! Man, I had everything indented and all pretty, but it won't let me have the indents! That's aggrivating! I'm not sure where this is going. . . But I hope I'm doing okay with the descriptions! Normally, YK2 (Yuffie Kisaragi2, my best friend!) is like "Gab, USE MORE DESCRIPTION!!!" So, THERE! YK2! You better be readin' this, or I'm gonna kick yer butt at band camp this week!

NO BAND CAMP COMMENTS! I play sax! Not flute! And Toni's a percussionist! Er. . . I mean, Paine Kisaragi's a percussionist! And YK2 plays clarinet! YAY! Okay, okay! I'll shut up so you can click that ever-so cute button that says "SUBMIT" or something like that! Click it!

NOW!

Oh, yeah.. I gotta shut up first Always forget that part!

Much amour!

!¿ - RoGuE MiStReSs - ¿!