A/N: Well, sorry for the delay on the chapter. I had some computer problems, and when I got back from holiday break, we all found out midterm exams are next week. So expect more delays in the next chapters. I'm a senior, so exams are really important this year. I'll probably be back to edit this chapter when I've been able to snag more sleep and coherency. My apologies if it's not up to scratch.

Thanks so much, Jill, for finally reading this. Now at least, you finally know what I'm babbling about at three AM. And to my new reader, Cendrillo, thanks for the very useful review. I like your stories too! /Smile/

Here's where the medi-babble starts, so hold onto your chocobos. My source is Campbell/Reece Biology: Sixth Edition, the one I use for school. It's an AP text and brand new this year. Another is Sam Rhine's Genetics Update Conference 2004, held at Seaholm High School in Birmingham, Michigan. If my in-story definitions confuse you, refer to the next section. It's the medical definitions in layman's terms. Just open it up in a new window and it goes (mostly) in order as you read.

I'll accept intelligent debate, but flames, backless arguments ("Oh, that can't possibly happen!), and the like will be mocked, belittled, and otherwise taunted. Also, to the higher educated than me, feel free to correct me on medical details I bungled. With that said, on with the story! Oh, I still own nothing. Durr.

Chapter 5

The Start of it all Again

At last, the new laboratory was set up to Diane's satisfaction. No longer was it gloomy and filthy, but in the main room, where Hojo's 'clues' had once been, actually quite sunny now that the windows were washed. Diane's lab didn't look like a bastard child between an old Frankenstein movie and a high-tech research facility, but rather like a doctor's office. It was a place light, though also clutter. Notes, some bound in journals, others on sheets of loose paper, were piled where it was convenient, next to microscopes, centrifuges, and a computer. The discs for the computer were stacked haphazardly next to the drive, their contents written on their spines in permanent marker. Books were there too, though most were off to one side, next to loose-leaf paper, waiting for notes to be taken on their material.

The creator of all this chaos was sitting happily in the midst of it all, red hair like fire in the early morning sunshine. She was testing some of her equipment, calibrating it in preparation of what was to come. Here, she would work her miracle, if all went well.

"Vincent?" she called, knowing the dark man wouldn't be far. "I'm ready for you."

He looked like a man going to his own execution. That condemned man couldn't be as edgy, ready to bolt, as Vincent was at that moment. Red eyes that didn't quite hide his nervousness darted to the pan of sterilized instruments, then to Diane, not quite afraid, but not trusting.

"It's all my work right now," she told him. "I just need a blood sample from you to find out what I need to do. It's a small one, so don't worry at all. I'm not a phlebotomist, but I've done enough bloodwork to know what I'm doing."

While Diane chatted, looking entirely at ease, Vincent looked increasingly edgy, especially at the syringe and rubber tourniquet. She eyed him askance, giving him a very good reproduction of his own look of doom. "If you don't relax, I'm going to have to do something rash. I'm not going to sit here for a half an hour and poke you until I can find a vein."

Nonplussed, he raised an eyebrow. "And what would be rash?" he asked in a would-be calm voice.

"I don't know just yet, but it'll be something along the lines of mad tickling, or Mozart."

He almost smiled at the thought. He didn't even know if he was still ticklish or not, but there were more pressing matters at hand, and he didn't think Diane would take kindly to a tussle in the midst of her lab equipment. "You listen to Mozart?" he asked, curious.

"Yes, when I used to live in Midgar, I always attended the symphony when I could get tickets. Eine kleine Nachtmusik was one of my favorite pieces."

"A Little Night Music?" He hadn't had to use his vague knowledge of other languages in many long years.

"Yes. It's so lively and energetic, but so relaxing."

"Do you play?"

She laughed. "Hardly. I couldn't carry a tune in a bushel basket if I tried. I enjoy the music, but it wouldn't do for someone like me to butcher it." To her careful eye, Vincent was finally starting to relax, even in the presence of the medical paraphernalia that was lying around the area. Smiling, she asked, "Do you?"

He looked startled for a moment, not expecting to be questioned so abruptly. "No."

"Just 'no'?" He has to be Wutaian to be so modest… I heard him tinkering with that old piano, and it was as good as anything I'd heard at the Midgar Symphony Orchestra.

"Just no," he answered, though not seeming so foreboding now.

"Alright, we'll have to listen to some of the music I have, see if Cid can appreciate anything that doesn't have an engine. And how about that blood sample?"

She asked so abruptly that out of sheer habit, he stuck out his arm. Everyone follows orders of someone they trust after a time, and apparently, she had gained Vincent's trust. Before she lost the opportunity, she had undone the sleeve to his black dress shirt, pushed it up to his elbow, and was in the process of prepping him before he even seemed to realize what was going on.

If he pulled away now, he thought, he'd look like a fool. He disliked looking like a fool almost more than anything else. In his life, he'd worked too hard to be a leader, and then a left-hand man—the man who appears to be passive and of no consequence, but was in truth the one contributing the most to a decision or conversation. So it had been with the Turks, and then with Avalanche. His entire thought process to bare seconds, and he decided to just let her get it over with.

Diane almost smirked at her victory. Before he could change his mind, she raised his radial vein with her thumb, pressing just above his elbow, making the blue vein stand out from the rest of his pale skin. Glancing at the sterile pan next to her, she selected a syringe that was known as a 'butterfly' for its fine needle, and slipped it into the vein. Smoothly, she drew the plunger back, drawing about ten CCs of his blood. "There, we're all done. Or at least you are. Now I have to do all the hard work," she teased. "Keep an ear open, alright? I'm likely to yell for you to come answer questions as they occur to me. From here on out, we're playing everything by ear. There's no schedule, until I know what's going on in there," she explained, pointing to the blood in the syringe.

Vincent nodded in understanding, putting his sleeve back into order. "Good luck, Professor."

Typically, she didn't reply, already occupied with the hard-won blood sample. Putting on a fresh pair of gloves, she was putting two CCs of blood in a plastic tube, labeling it with the date and Vincent's name. The rest she put in the centrifuge, programming it to separate the blood into white blood cells, plasma, and red blood cells with platelets. The most useful parts would be the white blood cells and plasma, she knew. The white blood cells would have his DNA and any of Hojo's alterations, comparable to the original data she had from his Turk file. President Shinra's foresight was sometimes useful, she thought. Every form of identification was catalogued, from simple blood type to eight different DNA markers.

Thinking about blood types, she drew a small sample from the whole blood, and put it into a pan that looked similar to a shallow ice cube tray, a few drops in each section, and then added drops of different kinds of clear solution to each.

"Antigen AB is showing a semi-reaction. Antigen B is showing strong coagulation. A shows no sign of coagulation or other reaction. Good, his blood type is still A. At least that much hasn't changed. DNA is going to be a different story, between the Mako and Jenova. That'll be hard to correct. Maybe a DNA gun?" she questioned the air and her instruments. "Hm. I'll just have to see what all are problems first, then figure out how to correct them."

In a very timely manner, the centrifuge dinged, signaling the end of its cycle. Prodding a few more buttons, she had the machine automatically separate the parts of the blood.

The white blood cells were sent to another machine, one that would separate the cells into their individual parts. This would let her compare the nuclear DNA to the mitochondrial DNA. Mitochondrial DNA was isolated, not used for expressing traits, so it was likely Hojo wouldn't have altered it.

Once she isolated the two types of DNA, she set up both an analysis and a karyotype. That took a great deal of time, but Diane wasn't on a schedule.

"Huh…" she muttered, looking at the karyotypes—pictures of the chromosomes, colored and organized. In the mitochondrial DNA, the karyotype showed the normal twenty-three chromosome pairs. Diane smiled, pleased. Hojo hadn't mucked around at this level, even as good as he was.

The nuclear DNA karyotype was cause for frustration. There were a few extra pairs, though not duplicates of any normal human chromosomes. For a minute, she stared at it, and then snapped her fingers. "Jenova!"

"I thought it was 'eureka'," Vincent commented, bringing in lunch. He'd had a suspicion that Diane would forget to come out to eat, and as she looked up guiltily, he knew he'd been correct.

"Ah… thank you, Vincent… I was going to…" At the knowing look in his eyes, she trailed off. "Never mind."

He gave a near smirk, though it was hidden behind his cloak's collar. Scientists are all alike once they get caught up in their work, but no worse than any other profession, I suppose.

"What about 'eureka'?" she asked, distracting herself from her embarrassing slip.

"I thought when someone discovered something, they were supposed to say 'eureka', not 'Jenova'."

"I didn't discover something. I figured something out, even though it was painfully obvious."

"Oh?" he asked curiously.

"You've got extra chromosomes in your nuclear DNA."

"In Continental, please?" he requested.

"You have Jenova DNA in with yours."

"I see. And this means…"

"Well, it means that you've got some extra traits that belong to Jenova. I'll have to eradicate them, but that shouldn't be hard, considering your mitochondrial DNA is normal."

"Eat, before you make my poor brain into mush."

Diane complied, falling on the food. It was pizza, and from the amount of grease, it had to have been Cid's choice. She also noticed that he was much more open around her when they were alone, and no medical items were lying about where they might jump up and attack him.

"So," she said lightly as she ate. "Other than the DNA and red eyes, are there any other details that only you would know about? Any funny side effects?"

Vincent paused in thought. There were the four demons, but could he tell the doctor he was possessed by four creatures? And the other… that would have to remain a secret for as long as possible.

"Red mentioned something about shape-shifting in battles."

He winced behind the concealing collar. Of course Red would tell Diane something like that, if she asked. The cat was highly intelligent, and knew that Vincent would avoid sharing certain details if he could avoid it in any way. Diane was giving him a cool look, knowing he was evading her question.

"Yes, most fighters call them 'limit breaks'."

"Hm… the partial transformations…" she muttered, digging through a pile of old looseleaf paper, and pulling out a sheaf. "'…a series of partial transformations, unpredictable at best, volatile at worst…'" she read. "In theory, the cells introduced would essentially cause absolute corruption, triggering partial transformations that were exceedingly painful. "There's nothing about total transformations, especially at a trigger."

"I don't understand what you're talking about," Vincent said calmly.

"The Chaos Theory."

The name of the theory sent a chill down his spine. Chaos, one of the banes of his existence, had been used in a theory by Diane. He wasn't sure what it meant, if anything.

"It must be the Mako. It must have given some extra resistance to the transformations, or else I just underestimated. Hm, in battle… triggered by endorphins or adrenaline?" she wondered aloud.

Vincent shook his head and took away the now cold pizza. If she didn't come out for dinner, he'd drag her out. The little professor was just too smart for her own good at times.

A/N: Well, here's the next chapter. Again, I apologize for the lack of quick updates. Midterm exams are almost over, so we'll be back to normal soon. I just had the hardest one today, before I finished this. Count yourselves lucky that I had the desire to write about science after having my Advanced Placement (college) Biology exam! There's still a few more secrets to be revealed, though I'm certainly not going to spill them just yet. Probably in the next couple of chapters, and then she'll try to fix him. /Smirk/ Just wait…

Oh, if anybody wants me to email them when I update, include your email address in your review.