Another update!

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CHAPTER 5

Volatile

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So the car idea hadn't proved to be as efficient a plan as he had originally thought. So he was left moody and bored. So the rain didn't want to let up and the Bronco sat silent and sullen in the meantime. So he had resorted to other ways of spending his time and days. So he helped Shera in the garden and in the house. His garden, his house, her love and her effort. But their intricate dance on eggshells they had been sharing through the last days of his sudden return was beginning to wane, and their old temperments, (his old temperments), where beginning to show their resiliance to change. Now it was the last day before he would take off to Midgar, and he was in the garden, and things were beginning to look as dark and dismal as the sky.

"Here, Captain."

"Aww, fuck it. I'm sick of digging out all these damn weeds when they're only gonna come back in a few days."

"Captain, if you don't pull out the weeds now, they'll only get bigger and worse than they are now. The flowers won't grow."

"Since when did we need these fuckin' flowers anyways?"

"I like them."

"Since when did we do things just because you 'like them'?"

Shera turned her gaze down to the dirt.

"Since never, I suppose."

Cid tensed. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. But he wasn't about to back down now.

"Fuck it. I'm tired of all this stupid diggin'." He ripped out his dying cigarette and threw it in the wet earth, standing and walking back inside. Maybe he could find some needed parts to his car that he hadn't been able to find before, albiet his given ten days.

"Sorry, Captain." Shera muttered, more out of habit than anything else, even though he was already gone.

She sat, looking down at the dirt, but not bothering to plant anymore. Cid tinkered with the engine. He knew it would run, but he still needed working brakes and a control board to read gas and miles and speed. Without these, driving would be almost impossible. But he wasn't about to admit to the futility of it all. He was still upset, and this helped him to relieve his mind. Tinkering was always a relaxation for him.

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"I'm takin' off now. I'll be there bright an' early 'roun dawn ta pick yah up. A'right?"

"Sure. But flying through the night?"

"Yah, why not? N'thing goin' on 'round here, so thought I'd just go ahead an' do a little night flyin'! Best sorts. 'Sides, got a load o' coffee over here."

"Well, if you're sure."

"Sure, sure, no sweat! Y'all worry too much, yah know?"

"Maybe . . ."

"'Sides, I'ma robot, 'member? Ain't nuthin' that terrible's gonna happen ta me."

"Alright, dawn then. See you then, Cait."

"Righ'. Later, Red."

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He wasted his time fixing things in his exceptionally tidy, for his, house and before long he heard the back door open. He could tell it was starting to rain, he could hear the light sound of sprinkling, and new Shera had come in out of retreat from the weather and to make dinner. His stomach had been rumbling, reminding him of the time of day. But he wasn't going to confront her about it. He wasn't in the mood to face her at this time for fear that he'd explode towards her some more. He really didn't want to anymore, but it was hard to end old wrongs and old feelings. So he continued to busy himself for a little longer, blowing smoke like an exhaust pipe, before he heard Shera's voice.

"Dinner, Captain."

Cid came out, wiping his hands on a rag he threw carelessly on the dinner table, blowing out a puff into the air. He then sat down, kicking his feet up on the table.

"Captain!" Shera snapped. "Don't dirty my clean table!"

"You're table?" Cid laughed. "Last time I checked it was my table! Like it's my whole damn house!"

Shera gave him a very disapproving look, anger glaring at him from behind her glasses as she shook her head, turning away as if she couldn't bare to look at him any longer. Cid shifted uncomfortably and lowered his feet. He hadn't liked that look.

"You got that damn food ready yet?" He asked, a little more gruff than he felt at the moment.

Shera twirled around, practically dropping the bowl of soup in front of him. She then turned, putting the lid on the large pot and stuffing it in the refrigerator. After she left the kitchen and headed to the bathroom, not turning her eyes once to the pilot who watched her through narrow eyes.

Cid muttered a string of obsenitites under his breath and rounded on the door, pounding on it with a fist.

"What the hell do you think you're on about, acting like that? You ain't got no right to be giving me attitude in my own home!" He waited for a reply but none came. "Dammit girl, you better fuckin' answer me, you hear? Who do you think you are?"

"I hate you."

He froze. What had she just said to him? It had only been a soft answer but he had caught it.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Silence.

"Fine! You hate it so fucken much here then leave! No one's makin' you stay, for fuck's sake!"

The door opened and Shera emerged, tears lacing her angry eyes, glaring out behind her round glasses. What anger there had been on Cid's face almost instantly flowed away like a receeding wave as he saw her expression. Had he done that to her? She pushed past him angrily, turning her back to him. He didn't know what to say.

"Fine. You forgave me, so I suppose that's as good as it gets."

Cid glowered at her turned back, regaining his anger. But was it towards her? He wasn't so sure . . .

"Damn right I forgave your ass! Sick of it as I am."

Shera didn't say anything, but he thought he heard a noise come from her.

"Fuck this."

He walked past her and entered his spare room where his car sat and slammed the door shut. His room, his bedroom on more than occasion, where he used the car's seats as a Cid-designed bed. A moment later he heard the bedroom door close.

She lay on the pull out sofa, crying silently under the blankets. Why did he have to be so volatile all the time? And why couldn't they just learn to get along? Was it really that difficult to replace the old with the new? She supposed it was. But she wouldn't have to worry on it for long. It seemed like she'd be finding somewhere else to contend with tomorrow.

She lay thinking like that for longer than she kept track of, silently shaking below the sheets, both afraid and eager to get away from all this. But she fell silent instantly as she heard the door slowly creak open. She tried to hold back her sobbing as she heard padding footsteps and the bed groan under sudden wait. He was there. He slid under the cover and pulled up next to her, burying his face in the back of her head, in her dark brown hair. She sighed and stayed that way, listening to the rain outside mingling with the sound of their steadying breath. He was sorry. He wanted her to stay. That was another of their silent language she had come to understand. His apologies. He hardly said them, but he gave them to her, in his own way. She closed her eyes and settled down. Alright, she'd stay.

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Cait Sith groaned as he glarred through the thin sleet of rain, his Mog sitting behind him with his omnipresent cheshire grin glowing off the control panels dull light. Moonlight was little help now and he had the helicopter's headlights blarring through the thick of the storm. Behind his robotic eyes, Reeve sipped at his hot coffee mug

"Damn storm."