Chapter Six

"Good morning, Mr. Valentine." Lucrecia greeted as she hunched over a microscope. Vincent took his normal place just to the side of where the scientist's worked. He merely sat down and scanned the lab. Professor Gast sat in the far end where his library of text and records were stored in a series of soaring shelves that eventually circled around him like rampart walls.

Vincent's eyes finally rest on Lucrecia as she analyzed several slides, occasionally jotting a few notes down on a pad of paper. Gast left his desk and approached Lucrecia curious to see what she had found so far. Stepping aside, Lucrecia allowed the professor access to the microscope.

Vincent fought a yawn as he sat and watched. Saying little, Gast walked away and returned to his desk. Lucrecia tilted her head as she looked at Vincent who looked less then thrilled.

"I was thinking of getting some coffee. Could you use something, Mr. Valentine? Maybe some tea, hard liquor?"

'Isn't it a little early for that?'

"Why?" Feeling a little confused about what she was alluding to.

Lucrecia shook her head. "It just seems that you did not sleep well."

Vincent raised a brow. "What do you mean, doctor?"

She gestured to his hair. "It looks a little bedraggled, like you slept in on a couch two sizes too small."

He ran his fingers through his hair and then offered a slight smile. 'Better? I suppose I could have used a comb…'

Lucrecia walked over to a small table where a coffee peculator sat with several mugs. She filled two of them and offered one to the man. He received the cup quietly while she kept the other.

"This must be a rather dull assignment for you, Mr. Valentine. Having to sit through sample after sample, listening to us ramble about DNA sequences, broken genes, and gene patterns..." She opened a small cup container of coffee creamer and poured it into the coffee. "Honestly, I personally would find it kind of drab if I hadn't a clue what was going on." Lucrecia picked up a red stir straw and placed it into her drink and swirled the creamer around.

Vincent looked at his mug and then at the surrounding laboratory.

"It's not too bad, Doctor."

This time she raised an eyebrow. "You're not just humoring me, are you?"

He looked at her with a dead expression. Setting her coffee down, she went back to her microscope and continued to write down notes. Vincent sat back and sipped at the warm drinking, finding a little comfort in it. The lab door swung open as Hojo marched in with a several file folders tucked under one arm. The scientist made his way and sat down at the larger of the two desks in the lab and sat down. Gast came out and met briefly with Hojo before he returned to his desk back in the book stacks.

The Turk watched Hojo for a while before setting his mug down. 'What do we have today, Hojo?' Vincent walked over and peered down at the notes and frowned. They were notes about Mako weapons. 'Now, sir, what does weapons have to do with cells of a frozen woman?' Vincent glanced up and saw a book on DNA sequences. Picking it up, he pushed the weapon notes away with the book.

Hojo set his pen down and touched the tips of fingers together in a moment of silence. "DNA sequences are certainly a complicated study, Mr…." Hojo paused and removed the book and closed the notebook with his notes. "I'm sorry, it seems I have forgotten you name."

Vincent slipped his hands into his pockets and turned away. "Mr. Valentine, sir."

'Would you also like to meet my friend, Mr. .45 caliber? I certainly could make arrangements.' Having briefly seen Hojo's notes, Vincent was now fully aware that Hojo did have his own agenda and it did not correspond with Gast's initially intentions.

Absent-mindedly, Lucrecia poked at her fried fish, seeming to lack the interest in eating.

"I have had the strangest craving for a restaurant back in Midgar. It's this little Wutai take-out place. I would often order from there. I liked their pork thing with rice. Just don't eat their fried rice. I heard they recycle it."

Vincent tore off a piece of bread and dipped it slowly into the stew. "I ate their food once, if it is Wong Way's Wutai you speak of." He shook his head slowly.

Lucrecia's fork stopped briefly catching the general vibe of displeasure. "I would think a man like you could handle a little heartburn." She broke off a piece of fish and ate it.

He looked up at her and then glanced away sheepishly. "It made my ass hurt."

Lucrecia's face dropped, her forked paused in mid-motion unsure what he meant by his comment. Then it suddenly became clear about his allusion. "Oh." She looked back down at her fish; unsure she wanted to know that type of detail about anyone.

"Was it the peppered chicken stuff? I heard they don't actually use chicken. I had a lab attendant get pretty sick off it once, but I think it was because he was coming down with influenza."

He dunked another piece of bread into the juice. "Not the chicken dish. It was deep fried and swimming in grease. Slid down easy enough and it was about the same coming out.' "I went to a nice little place in Sector five." Vincent recalled that evening being the time he had just completed a lengthy assignment, and had stopped a small restaurant for dinner. About the time he received his meal, several medical vehicles and a patrol car raced past the front of the restaurant and down the street. "The food was excellent, service was good. The night I was there, there was some sort of opera performer and a cello."

Lucrecia picked at the cooked root vegetables. "Sounds nice."

Vincent smiled briefly. "It was." 'Especially after five drinks…'

'This bed is too short.' Vincent thought as he tried to keep his feet from hanging off the edge. He rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. He watched the shadows of the trees make their dance as the light of the early summer moon setting in the sky. Vincent realized that sleep would be evasive, so he allowed himself to be content with laying in the silence.

He had to admit that this was one of his hardest assignments. Grant it, the study of an ancient body was interesting itself, but it was not like that it was going to suddenly regain the ability to walk away. Vincent amused himself with the thought briefly. 'Entertaining as it may seem, definitely not possible.'

Despite the appearance, there was a great deal at stake with all who were involved, as he had learned. Professor Gast had studied the Cetra and their culture, hoping to unlock their mysterious past and their disappearance. Having the opportunity to actually study a Cetra body was certainly a once in a life-time experience, but what would happened if it was not a Cetra? Vincent assumed it would not bode well if that were the case. 'Dr. Hojo would certainly be inclined to point the finger at someone, and it would be certain it would not be himself whether it was his fault or no.'

Being the head of the Science department, Hojo seemed to have an ego that was twice the size of his head and still growing. Though, Hojo still had something lose in this project if it went bunk. Vincent hazard to guess part of it was his reputation, the very thing that he seemed to value the most. However, the Turk sensed it would not necessarily break the twitchy man. Irony would have it the sole reason he involved was because of Hojo. He was a brilliant man, but had a habit of taking over projects and completely destroying them while trying to accomplish his own purposes.

And then there was the assistant, it seemed she would have the most to lose or gain. From what he gathered from her conversations and mannerisms, her career rode solely on the outcome of the Jenova project. 'A gamble she is willing to make, it seems.' It was no worse then one who chose to be a military soldier or a fisherman. Fate has it's own mind and it does seem to matter whether was one agreed with it or not.

'She certainly knows how to play a good game of poker.' He mused recalling their game from several days ago. That event told him the most about the young scientist. She knew when she could drop her poker face and when to wear it. And when she did, none would know the better. Vincent sat up and swung his feet to the floor. Vincent reached up and rubbed at his face and brushed his hair back. His dark eyes rolled over to the small ticking clock on the wall. The hands rested on the four and the six respectively. 'Damn… It will be dawn soon.' He rested his face against his hand and closed his eyes. Even though he had retired to his bed after the scientists had retired, it felt like he it was only moments ago.

The Turk sighed and forced himself to lie back on the bed hoping that he would sleep. However he knew that he would have to get back up in about hour for the first ground checks. Growling, he put the pillow over his face. A scratching sound came suddenly to his attention. Peering from underneath the pillow, he watched to see what was causing the sound. 'Rat or mouse?' He pondered. For a brief second, a mouse ran across the floor to the other side of the small servant's quarters. ' That things has to die…' The scratching began again with in the thin, plastered walls. Vincent pulled the pillow hard over his ears, trying to block the sound.