2. A New Acquaintance

Disclaimer: I do not , nor do I claim, to own any of FF7's characters, plot, and settings. And I'm definitely not making money off of it either.

"What is it?" Vincent demanded.

Yuffie's lips stiffened in a grim smile. "I dunno, but it looks pretty bad." There was something foreboding in her eyes that sent shivers up my spine.

"So, what's up?" I asked cheerfully, hoping to break some of the ice that was accumulating in the room.

No such luck...

"There are two guys dead on the outskirts of the village. The third one is all dazed and just sitting there. Don't know what's up with him, but he doesn't react to anything. It's like he's petrified, but it's not any kind of petrifacation spell I've seen before. None of them are familiar, and they're obviously not from around here from the looks of 'em." She explained. "You probably should take a look, you know."

Vincent's eyes narrowed darkly. "Very well, let's go."

"This way." Yuffie called over her shoulder as she vanished into the night.

I hastily snatched a jacket from the coat rack and followed after her with Vincent right behind me. The night air was chilly and seeped through the thing fabric of the jacket, tickling my skin. It was fresh to breath though and helped to cleanse my sinuses.

Up ahead I could see the glowing of torches at the entrance. It seemed that Yuffie had not alerted anyone else yet for all was quiet as we approached the scene. On the ground lay two bodies in a pool of mingling blood, each a victim to the fatal wound of a blade.

I coughed into my sleeve and looked away as my stomach churned uncomfortably. Normally I wouldn't be so strongly affected by the smell, but my head was stuffy enough as it was. Breathing such foul air only made it worse.

Vincent continued passed me to where the younger looking of the two dead men lay, and knelt down beside him. His claw gauntlet gently grasped the man's jaw and tilted the head from side to side whilst he inspected. He stood up abruptly, eyes downcast on the pale face. "I know this man."

"You do?" Yuffie asked in surprise and skipped up beside him to take a look herself. "Who is he?"

"He was one of Marcus' men." Vincent replied.. "No doubt sent to ensure my death and maintain the secrecy of his operation."

"This just keeps getting more complicated by the minute." I exasperated loudly.

Vincent remained expressionless, but his mind was restlessly mulling. "It seems so." His keen eyes landed sharply on an upright figure just beyond where we stood. Until now I'd not noticed the stranger. I followed behind, sneaking a peek around Vincent's shoulder as we neared him.

The man rested on his knees garbed in forest green robes and cloak, and appeared to be in some sort of trance. His hood was pulled back, exposing his sharp facial features and bronze colored skin. Shoulder length, dark brown hair escaped the folds of his crookedly wrapped green bandana, and fell unkemptly about his high cheekbone face, several locks obscuring his forehead. On each ear there were three golden earrings, the bottom one being the largest and shrinking in size up to the third, and he had a small, pointed goatee. The torchlight reflectedan eerie emptiness in his light brown eyes.

Had it not been for the rise and fall of his chest, one may have mistaken him for an eloquently carved statue.

Yuffie sprang up beside him and waved her hand frantically before his unmoving eyes. She looked up at us from where she was leaning over him. "See?" She gestured. "He's awake looking and he's breathing, but he's comatose or something."

I walked out from behind Vincent's shadow and stooped down beside the unresponsive stranger. "That's odd." I remarked. "I guess all we can do is wait for him to come to."

"Is he carrying a sword?" Vincent asked.

I cautiously lifted his cloak and indeed, there gleaming at his waist was the hilt of a saber. "Yes."

"Is there blood on it?" Vincent inquired.

"How should I know?" I replied, shrugging. "It's in its scabbard."

Vincent nudged me aside and wrenched the sword out. It was spotless. A well-made sword from the looks of it too, and very beautiful. There were letters carved onto the elegantly curved blade.

I stood up to get a closer look. "Do you know what it says?"

"I've never seen writing like this." Vincent muttered quietly, absorbed in thought.

Meanwhile Yuffie occupied herself with attempting to wake the stranger up. "Yoohoo, snap out of it!" She shouted.

"Yuffie, I don't think that's going to-" As I turned at her, I froze in mid speech. The man's head had risen without warning and life had flooded back to his eyes.

"Ya filthy bastard!" He yelped and bolted to his feet.

Yuffie recoiled in surprise, incidentally catching her foot on a traitorous rock and somersaulting into the bushes.

The stranger paid no notice to her and seemed more intent on finding who ever it was that'd been so labeled 'Ya filthy bastard'. Eventually he came to the realization that whoever it was he sought was no longer here. He rubbed his head tiredly and eyed each of us with a befuddled raised brow. "Who in Hade's hell are you?" His gaze halted on the sword in Vincent's hand, eyes narrowing. "And what are you doing with my sword?"

Vincent remained poised and calm. "Checking it for blood."

"Blood?" The man appeared completely baffled. He glanced passed us then and spotted the two dead on the ground. Realization hit and his hands flew up in defense. "Now wait just one second, that's not my handiwork." He insisted sternly.

"It doesn't appear so." Vincent agreed stoically and handed over the man's sword. "What is your name?"

"Marsellis." He snatched the weapon from Vincent's hand, keeping a suspicious eye on him. "'Course I didn't do it. She's the one who did it, and then she had the audacity to steal away with my Goddamn map."

Vincent and I exchanged looks of worry. Yuffie just looked between us in confusion, having not been present when Vincent mentioned the missing map.

This sounded all too familiar. I had the sinking feeling that it was my map he was ranting about.

"A women you say?" Vincent pressed.

"What did she look like?" I queried anxiously.

Marsellis stuffed his saber in its rightful place and proceeded to check the rest of his belongings for anything that may be missing. "Long braid of dark, ash blonde hair, wore lots of black…pretty." He added with a mischievous grin. "Good with a sword too." He blinked, flushing suddenly. "Err, not as good as me of course, heh."

That has to be her, I thought. So what made her kill these men? It wasn't that I minded particularly that they were dead since they were most likely after Vincent, but I was curious as to what business she had with them. Something tells me this is all tied in together somehow.

"So, what happened?" Yuffie asked. "I mean, she didn't just freak out and kill them for kicks, did she?"

He shrugged. "I doubt it. She didn't appear to be after them, and they weren't after her. At least, not until they saw her face anyway. That's when they got all excited and attacked."

I wonder what sort of accent that is? It was faint, as Marsellis spoke english very well, but obviously there.

Vincent crossed his arms and turned his head away, taking another glimpse at the deceased. "Most likely they recognized her as a potential danger and attempted to get rid of her."

"That'd be my guess." The other man agreed.

"And where do you fit into all this?" I questioned cautiously.

"Pardon?" Marsellis echoed. He frowned slightly. "I seem to recall going over this once already. She's got my map and what little is left of my pride, both of which I'd like to have back. I came onto the scene after these poor bastards met their end."

My eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you sure it was your map?"

He recoiled nervously, as if to put more distance between us. "Hey now, no need to get violent." He maintained calmly. "What do ya mean?

"I mean someone, a women who happens to match the description you gave us, came into my shop and stole a page from an ancient book. It was a map." I answered. "Would that be the same map you're after?"

He grinned quirkily. "Could be."

Yuffie was looking back and forth between us, her face twisting in confusion. "Wait a second, what map? Did I miss somethin'?"

"And why do you want it?" Vincent inquired coldly, ignoring Yuffie for the time being.

Marsellis seem to stair at him with an utterly disbelieving look. "To get what's at the end of it of course. Why the hell else would I want it?" He huffed impatiently.

Vincent scowled at the insult, but chose to disregard it. "You are not one of Marcus' men then?"

Marsellis' expression changed, turning dark and grim. A solemn twitch of his eye implied that he at least knew the name, and didn't seem all that happy about it. "I'm on my own, mate."

"Hello!" Yuffie shouted, waving her arms frantically to grab some attention. "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?"

Again Vincent dismissed her insistent pestering and proceeded to study the man before him with interest, while I mouthed a silent 'shut up' inYuffie's direction and she retaliated with a furious glare.

"Very well." Vincent paused for a moment. "We're also after the map. A friend of ours is lost in the desert, searching for the Spear, and we must find him before Marcus does." He paused, adding ominously, "if he hasn't already."

Marsellis nodded solemnly. "I'll help you find the map and your friend, if you help me get the spear."

I stole a skeptical sidelong glance at Vincent. Was he really going to trust this man? It wasn't like Vincent to do that, but surprisingly enough it did seem as if he was seriously considering accepting the offer. In fact, watching the two men as each held the other's gaze without blinking, it was almost as if they were some how communicating through mind alone.

Vincent came to a temporary decision. "I will have to talk it over with my comrades." He signaled to Yuffie and myself to step aside for a moment, and so we did, leaving Marsellis alone with two corpses for company.

Yuffie was on the verge of imploding when we vanished behind some crates. "Well it's about time. Are you crazy!" She whispered sharply. "And what's this map everyone's talking about?"

Vincent held up his hand, indicating that she should shut it or face the consequences, and she abided. "The map is the original that Cloud copied to use on his search for the Spear. It was supposed to have been in the book I showed to you earlier. However, it seems someone has taken it."

"Oh." Yuffie frowned. "And what about this Marsellis guy? Ya don't really intend to let him come along, do you?"

Vincent looked at me. "What is your opinion?"

My lips parted in surprise, fumbling for an answer that was not there. "I-I don't know." I stammered, frustrated. "It certainly wouldn't hurt to have another person helping us out though. After all, there is only the three of us against a legion of men. We could use the help."

Yuffie crossed her arms defiantly and looked away. "He's too squirrelly. I don't trust him."

"And we didn't trust you either." Vincent reminded her coolly.

She whirled around angrily and prepared to make a fiery retort, but not a word came out. After a few deep breaths she loosened up. "Point taken." She muttered and turned away from us, head tilted slightly to the side so as to still be apart of the debate. "But why is it you're so quick to trust him, Vinny? It's not like you."

Vincent was struggling in search for the right words to express his inner thoughts while holding back the urge to throttle herfor the ridiculous nickname she insisted on using. "There is something about this man," He began, "that makes me believe we should have him on our side. That's all I can say."

Strangely enough, I had that same feeling too, though it was only vague. Marsellis had an aura about him…it was strong, determined, and a bit mysterious, but not necessarily in a bad way. Vincent saw it too, no doubt more than I did, and while Yuffie was taking the cautious approach I knew that she must have had that same feeling.

"Maybe you're right." Yuffie admitted.

"Then it's settled." Vincent affirmed.

We immerged from our shadowy abode to confront Marsellis, who was currently fiddling with a pouch at his waist. He looked up expectedly. "Come to a decision?"

"We accept." Vincent replied curtly.

Marsellis broke into a wide grin. "Excellent. Names?"

"Tifa Lockheart."

"The great ninja, Yuffie Kisaragi." Yuffie boasted proudly.

"Vincent Valentine."

Marsellis held out a courteous hand to Vincent to seal the partnership, only it was his left.

Vincent wavered, eyeing the gesture with particular dislike. Gradually he lifted the metallic claw and grasped the man's hand in a firm shake.

Marsellis didn't even flinch at the pain in being crushed by a metal claw. He did seem to be relieved to have his hand back though. "That's an interesting set up you got." He commented hesitantly. "Wasn't deliberate though, was it?"

"It wasn't."

"You know, it might be a good idea to get rid of these bodies." Yuffei pointed out idly. "This really isn't Wutai's problem anyway, so we might as well get 'em out of dad's hair before he finds out."

Vincent gave a nod of approval.

"If you don't mind, " I spoke up, muffling a cough. "I'd like to go inside."

"Go ahead." Vincent replied. "We'll meet back at your house."

Marsellis' eyes shifted nervously and he rubbed his stomach. "I'm a bit hungry. I don't suppose you could direct me to some food, could you?"

"Follow me." I ordered and headed back for home. He came up beside me, head bowed towards the ground and partially hidden behind the folds of his cloak, as he had apparently put his hood up.

He was the first to break the awkward silence. "What do you want it for?"

"Want what?" I asked, momentarily confused.

"The spear." He continued. "You do want it, don't you?"

"Oh that." I smiled briefly. "I do collect artifacts, and I admit it would be a nice addition to my collection, but I'm more worried about my friend's safety now. He was the one who decided to embark on this ridiculous adventure, and without telling me. Now he's gotten himself into a mess and we've got to get him out of it."

Marsellis glimpsed at me from behind the shadows of his cloak, a tiny sparkle in his eye. "It's dangerous business meddling with the Gods." He warned. "But only if your intentions are wicked, which I gather yours are not."

I peered up at him curiously. "Why do you want it?"

He chuckled lightly. "Oh, I don't know. I'm in it for the adventure I guess."

"Yeah right." I retorted.

"What? You don't believe me?" He winked playfully.

It wasn't my intention, but I blushed just the same, and from then on avoided looking at his annoyingly attractive face at all costs. He was too much of a charmer for his own good.

Relief came when I finally reached home and was greeted by a gust of warm air as I pushed open the door. "Come on in."

Marsellis stepped inside and scanned the walls intently. "By Zeus' beard!" He gasped. "This is amazing." He removed his cloak and set it on the counter, his gaze literally glued to the rows of display cases.

I noticed then that he was wearing a monk's robe of some kind, to be more specific. It seemed designed for battle.The bottom edge came down no lower than his knees and rather than a woven cord he wore a black leather belt which carried his possessions - a sword, dagger, water flask, and several pouches. His boots were black, knee high and laced up the front. They looked to be made of black suede leather.

"Oh, it's not that spectacular really." I ascertained humbly. "I'm hoping that someday I might be able to build it into a museum." As I turned passed the counter, something caught my attention and I stopped. I glanced back over my shoulder and there sat a lonely glass bottle on the counter, no more than 3 inches high. I knew it had not been there before.

I wondered back to the counter and picked the item up to investigate. Then I noticed the note sitting beside it. My brow furrowed in puzzlement. Lifting the delicate parchment from the table, I read its contents carefully.

'Take this. It's my last bottle, but it'll do you more good than it will me. You'll need to be in top condition for what lies ahead.'

Centuries seemed to pass in a window of time that was really only a minute long. The paper slipped from my fingers and fluttered to the floor, but I was no longer paying any attention to it. Again I looked at the bottle. There was no label.

"What's this?"

I whirled around, and let out a cry of surprise, having not realized that during my brief reverie Marsellis had come up beside me. A sigh of respite escaped my lips. "Don't do that!"

His eyes widened momentarily. "A thousand pardons lass, I didn't realize my presence was unknown. It was starting to weird me out though, with the silence and all. I said your name three times at least and you gave no response."

"You called me?" I asked, startled. I had no recollection of hearing anything.

"Several times." He corrected.

After a moments pause I replied, "Oh. I must've been in a daze. Sorry."

"What's the bottle?" He asked curiously, dismissing my apology.

That's what I'm wondering. "I'm not sure. Someone left it. I think it might even have been our map thief."

"Ah-ha, she sneaks in while you're away, but why?" He reflected in a mock tone of mystery, taking on the detective approach, though he lacked any real seriousness.

"Supposedly it's for my cold, though I'm a bit suspicious." I uttered. "Why would she go to the trouble to sneak in here just to give me this?"

Marsellis gestured to the bottle. "CanI have a look?"

"Knock yourself out." I answered and handed it to him.

He unscrewed the cap and took a cautious sniff of the innards, then another less timid one. A grunt of approval followed. "I'd know a scentless poison if I smelt it, and this isn't one. That's a good, safe herbal brew." He grinned, obviously aware of the contradiction in his statement.

Well, it's nice to half a second opinion, but I wasn't so sure I could trust him either. I studied his eyes, searching for any hint of deception. "You'd swear it?" If I could get cured, I'd be grateful, but I wasn't about to chug some foreign liquid down just because a man I'd known for no more than 10 minutes said it was ok.

"On my life I would." He said and without hesitation dribbled some of its contents into his own mouth. His face contorted in disgust, but he managed to swallow it down. A long breath of alleviation drew out from his lips and he shuddered. "Only medicine could taste that bad."

I was still gaping at him when he placed the bottle in my hand and momentarily disappeared behind the bookcase.

"On the off chance that I do keel over, I'd recommend you not be taking a swig of it yourself." He advised as he perused the bookshelves, every once in a while pulling a one out to examine.

"I'll keep that in mind." I said dryly. I carefully slipped the bottle into my jacket pocket, and started down the hall towards the back door. "I'll be back in a minute. I better not find anything missing when I return!"

"Would I do something like that?" He asked in an all too innocent tone.

Maybe leaving him alone with all of my possessions wasn't such a good idea. Definitely not, I thought, and spun on my heel back towards the shop. "Actually, I have a much better idea. You can come with me."

"I was only joking." He protested, frowning.

"Are you hungry or not?" I asked, crossing my arms expectantly.

"Oh right, food! Lead the way." He encouraged eagerly.

It took longer than it should have to get to my house. He insisted on being intrigued by every lily pad and blade of grass that lay between here and where we were going. I was beginning to wonder if he'd been living in a hole his entire life and had never seen the outside world.

"Goldfish!" He beamed. "Haven't seen one of those in centuries."

I stopped and confronted him. "What have you seen?"

"Butterflies." He answered flatly. "Lots of them."

"Butterflies?" I echoed in bewilderment.

"Practical joke." He muttered gloomily.

My short burst of laughter tapered off into a nasty hacking noise. "You're kind of strange, you know that?"

"Well, I should be honored then. Most normal people are boring anyway." He concluded cheerfully. "But do try to bare with me here, I haven't done this sort of thing in a long time."

I pushed open the door and bid him enter. "Than what have you been doing? You only look to be 30 or 35 years old. You act as if you've been living in a cage your hole life."

He cleared his throat nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "Looks can be deceiving lass. Let's just say I've been up in the clouds." Again he winked. Such a harmless gesture, but extremely effective.

"I'm not so sure you ever left." I mumbled under my breath as the door closed behind us. There was a strong scent of lilac in the house, a most powerful and intoxicating perfume. It was also a lovely flower, and by far my favorite.

"Nice house." Marsellis commented.

"Thank you." I answered. "What would you like to eat?'

"Whatever fits your fancy." He replied as he admired a painting on the wall. "So long as it isn't sushi. Don't really want to go into what happened last time I ate sushi."

Neither do I.

The outside chill had yet to leave my bones and I was yearning for something hot, like soup. "Would chicken soup be ok? It's left over from yesterday." The Universeal cure for disease.

"Sounds good to me." He called from the hall where he'd moved onto the next picture. It was one of Marlene's drawings, and apparently far more intriguing then the professional piece he'd just been observing with an obvious lack of interest.

I followed him closely with my eyes as he explored the confines of the house, and eventually vanished around a corner. As long as I could hear his footsteps, I was content.

The there was a loud crash from the hall.

"What was that?" I cried, flinching at the distinct sound of shattering glass.

"N-nothing!" Marsellis hollered back with a definite quiver in his voice. "Everything is perfectly fine!"

"That'd didn't sound like 'Nothing' to me." I drawled.

His head poked into view the next instant, a nervous blush in his cheeks. "It wasn't a very nice looking lamp to begin with."

I groaned inwardly, placing one frustrated hand on my hip while the other was braced against the counter top. "What lamp did you break?"

Marsellis' gaze shifted uncertainly. "I'm afraid your chocobo lamp has met an untimely end." He admitted, feigning sadness.

"How!" I gasped, staring at him. "It's on the ceiling!"

He scowled, rubbing his forehead defensively. "Hit me square in the face. Kind of painful, actually. I'm lucky the glass didn't shred me into confetti."

I continued to gape at him, debating whether or not I should reprimand or pity him . At some point I recovered, though it was hard to refrain from laughing. "You ran into it?" I repeated, slightly amused.

"Uh, yes."

A giggle rose from the back of my throat. "Are you alright?"

"Well, apart from my wounded pride, yes." He answered, eyes narrowing. "Oh wait, nevermind. I lost that earlier today."

"How tall are you?" I inquired curiously.

"6'0."

"Vincent never ran into it before." I articulated lightly.

"That's because he probably know's its there." Marsellis pointed out politely. "It comes upon you rather abruptly - right around the corner. An unsuspecting victim has no chance."

"I see." I smiled, stirring the pot methodically. "Well, I guess I'll have to forgive you then."

Marsellis breathed with ease and casually walked up behind me. He then proceeded to hover over my shoulder. "Smells good." He praised. His brow raised in a speculative manner as he stole one last glance at the pot and its contents. Then he nodded his approval and left.

There was something extremely odd about that man.

I sat down on a nearby stool and busied myself with thoughts of tomorrow. Would I even be fit to go? There was still the bottle in my pocket. A possible remedy, or perhaps a deadly poison. Marsellis hadn't died yet though, so I was dimly hopeful.

A distant sound carried on the wind like a soft whistle, jostling my thoughts as it surrounded me in an eerie sort of beauty. It was not a sharp whistle like the wind usually made. The sound was airy and hollow, and almost soothing. I wandered out of the kitchen, entranced by the melody, and into living room.

Marsellis was leaning against his hands on the window sill, gazing longingly into the darkness. His head turned upon my arrival. "Do you hear it?"

"Yeah." I answered. "What is it?"

He shrugged. "Indian panpipes is my guess."

"It's very beautiful." I murmured quietly and came closer to the window. Whoever played was doing a good job of it too.

"A talented musician, that one is." Marsellis observed. "Do you know who it is?"

I shook my head. "I've never heard anyone play those here before. The pan flute really isn't apart of Wutaiin culture."

"Maybe a traveler." Marsellis suggested.

"Maybe. I better go check dinner. I'm sure it's ready by now." I concluded, and left.

The single loud ding of the grandfather clock sounded out the beginning of a new hour. It was 10 o'clock.

Just as I was about to enter the kitchen, the front door swung open and in came Yuffie, her kaki shorts stained with blood and a frown on her face. "Vincent wants to leave in 3 hours." She declared grudgingly. "And I'm sta-a-arving."

"I've warmed up some chicken soup." I told her. "It should be hot enough by now. I'm going to get ready. It should only take me half an hour or so. And don't eat all of it!"

"Sure thing." Yuffie assured me with a mischievous grin that betrayed her true intentions. I'd be lucky if there was anything left when I returned. The girl could put away food like no other.

My head was throbbing when I reached the top of the stairs, and I was starting to feel dizzy. This wouldn't do, I thought miserably. I reached in my pocket and felt out the smooth surface of the glass vial. My eyes closed in temptation and I took in a deep breath.

Was this really a good idea?

Somehow I convinced myself that this was the best course of action. I trusted the mysterious stranger, though I don't know why. It was instinctive.

I clenched my teeth in determination, twisted off the cap and poured the remaining contents into my mouth. Every bit of willpower I had was needed to force down the bitter tasting fluid. It gave one a burning sensation in their throat, as if it were aflame (must be garlic in it). I'd never tasted anything quite so vile, but it did seem to make me feel better, especially when the burning stopped.

My spirits lifted and I dove into the endless abyss that was my closet. I found my gloves first, fully equipped, having not been touched since the final battle with Sephiroth, and I had a pair of new boots that needed some breaking in. There would be no skirt this time around. I learned my lesson during Avalanche and had no intention of making the same mistake again. This time I'd go with some simple highly flexible red and black kickboxing pants.

Little more than 20 minutes passed and I was ready to tackle the wilderness. I'd need something slightly warmer for my upper body though. My black tank top just wouldn't do in the colder parts of the world, and the jacket I wore was a bit flimsy and not at all effective for maneuverability. I grabbed my black fleece pullover from the bedpost, putting the jacket there in its place, and departed, taking one final glimpse of my room before leaving it behind.

Oddly enough, I was happy to go.

I bounded down the stairs cheerfully, and found Yuffie and Marsellis submerged in conversation at the table, their bowls empty. "Hello." I greeted them brightly. "I'm ready to go. How about you?"

"Not really." Yuffie mumbled, her head propped up in her cupped hands. "I could sleep for 12 hours."

Marsellis stiffened and put a hand to his stomach. From his throat emitted a ghastly gurgling sound. "Damn." He wheezed. "There didn't happen to be a list of side effects with that bottle, did there?"

My skin went cold, and I paled. "No…why?"

"I feel a…disturbance."

"Will you be ok?" I drew out nervously, taking a trembling step forward.

He cringed. "More or less."

Yuffie sat up straight. "What's the matter with you? You're not going to throw up are you?"

"A wee bit of indigestion I think." He assured us painfully. "Not to worry, if anything it'll be coming out the other end."

Her face turned livid in revulsion. "Gross! Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'too much information'?"

Just so long as he wasn't dying, I thought. All medicines had side effects, right? It was nothing serious, certainly not poison. Definitely not poison.

With great effort he straitened up and forced a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine, lass. Technically you're not supposed to take medication when you're not sick anyway. That's probably all it is."

I was still unconvinced, but he hadn't died yet and, anyone who had experienced bad indigestion knew that it could be very, very painful. It was true too that taking medication when you had no ailments could cause ailments. However, I had reason to be nervous, considering I'd just devoured the last of the bottle only a few minutes ago and could very well be on the verge of death.

"Why'd ya take it if you weren't sick?" Yuffie asked.

"Short, but complicated story." He said through clenched teeth. "Rather not talk about it at the moment."

Yuffie appeared as if she might have been slightly concerned, but shrugged it off and averted her attention to me. "You probably should put your hair up, you know?"

"Yes, but how should I do it?" I wondered aloud while holding it up questioningly. I'd been thinking about it for some time now. During Avalanche I wore it in a loose ponytail, but occasionally it got in the way. "Maybe I should braid it or something."

"It's hair." Marsellis drawled, eyes rolling as he stated the obvious. "Who cares?"

We shot him two barbed glares of warning.

Marsellis reared his head skyward, an expression of sardonic defeat on his face. "Gods, forgive me for obtruding on such sacred topics of the female conversation. I don't know what I was thinking." He trailed off with a long groan.

Yuffie shook her head in disgust. "Men. I don't even wanna know what's happened to your hair."

He flinched and clamped his hand over his heart, as if having received a physical blow. "That was harsh and uncalled for."

"It would be if you actually bothered to clean it." She muttered.

"What do you know about my hair?" He retorted defensively.

She fronted him, an amused smirk on her face. "Have you looked in the mirror recently?"

"Quite it you two." I murmured, still contemplating the hair situation with deep interest. I must admit, I was feeling a lot better all of a sudden. Then realization surfaced unexpectedly. "Where's Vincent anyway?"

"Burying those two dead dudes and getting things for the journey." Yuffie answered. "You know, ammo and all that good stuff."

"Weren't you going to help?" I inquired.

"I helped drag them and dig the holes. He's doing the burying." She stated and studied her clothes. "Crap, I need to change into something else."

"Yeah, you might want to." I agreed. She was a unkempt mess of blood and dirt.

Yuffe got to her feet and yawned tiredly. "I'm gonna go sneak into my room. Hopefully I'll be back soon." She bounded off, taking a left rather than a right, no doubt to go out the window – something she loved doing simply because it drove me insane.

Marsellis let out a soft 'ahem'. "Well, as much as I like sitting here in excruciating pain, we've got roughly 3 hours before we go and I'd much rather spend those hours in a more relaxed position. You wouldn't mind if I crashed out on your delightful couch would you?"

"Just so long as you don't die on it." I admonished dryly.

He bowed. "Of course not. To die on a lady's couch would be indecent."

I smirked. This was looking to be one hell of an adventure, and it had hardly started.

Author's Notes: Geeze that took me forever. I had terrible writer's block. You've all probably given up on me by now it's taken me so long. I'm sorry! Please forgive me! I'm feeling a lot better now though, so it shouldn't take quite so long to get chapters out. Hopefully this one reaches your satisfaction. Oh, and while this chapter may seem to hint Tifa/Marsellis, I assure you that is not the case.

Good? Bad? Revolting? Not worth the dirt on your shoes? Let me know! Hopefully it was worth your time, .