This fic is dedicated to all Cleris fans that want to see the way Cloud and Aerith will act like a married couple. It consists of short finished stories each deals with a new occurrences in their life. Rated for language (Cid can't be helped) and adult themes. There might be some OOCness but the second parts of the stories are written to explain why. Warning: Aerith is alive here. No resurrection. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. That was easy to say.

Materia madness or Multiple ways to extinguish a fire

Cid made his way through an empty and solitary hall to enter not very large and scanty filled with furniture room. His eyes scanned it and spotted the thing he was looking for. There was a window that faced the street and it was lighting up the room due to the fact that sun was at the peak. A path of light was going through the middle of the quarters, gradually dissolving in the room's depth and disclosing all those not numerous objects of furniture that were bought and delivered already. Cid scanned the room and spotted the thing he came for and was seeking at that moment. There, near the farthest wall and almost in the right corner, stood a newly bought and recently unpacked stove. Even some sheets of cardboard were still leaning on it. His lips curved into a wry smile, dropping fortunately unlit cigarette on the floor. He rushed at a dresser that was by the way rather empty too and opened it. His hand automatically grabbed a package of tea, though his thoughts were far away from there: with his new project that was lying on his writing-table. Maybe this agility came from frequent visits for the purpose of drinking free tea and then running away. Frankly speaking he did that very often and with a high rate of success. Immediately Cid took a tea-kettle for an unknown reason filled with water from a farther stove's ring and placed it on a closer one. Then his eyes started to look for matches but when unfortunately for the hosts he found nothing Cid put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a little slightly glowing orb. Without any doubts he extended the hand that was squeezing the orb towards the stove's ring.

"Fire!" he said quietly, turning gas closer, and watched as blue lights started to play on the smooth surface of the stove.

And, as it often happens, his triumph didn't last long enough for him to enjoy it. He heard a loud noise of something heavy hitting the floor behind his back. Cid turned round idly rolling his eyes and saw a young man standing in the doorway. The eyes of that newcomer were showing nothing but something like astonishment mixed with fright. Cid shifted his gaze from man's face to his fists that were unclenched and then down to the floor, where two bags were lying lonely. A bottle of something alcoholic rolled out of one of them causing a smirk on Cid's face.

"What the hell is that!" the newcomer finally found the right words to lower the older man from the skies. – What are you d… Nah, never mind, have you just used Fire materia in my kitchen!

Cid was wincing, while the other man who turned out to be his friend was actually screaming at him. And what is more he was rebuking him! Him, Cid, who was way too older than that twenty-three-year-old Soldier boy.

"Okay, pal, just pick up your freaking bags and calm down. I made a duplicate of your idiotic key and I wanted to make my goddamn tea!" Cid tried to explain everything using all his abilities of oratory and mother wit but his blond friend just stood there with a dead-pan.

"So these are the consequences of a contact with a mechanic," the blond spiky haired man finally sighed and grabbing the bags he'd dropped he placed them on a nearby surface which happened to be a table. "So when were you going to tell me that?"

"Let me think," Cid rubbed his chin as if he was really unsure of that. "How about tomorrow?"

The owner of at least the kitchen frowned at this unappreciated jest.

"Take your tea and get lost."

"That's what I was going to do. Heck, you kid must grab your traps, go somewhere far away from here and rest. Again. You're a beast comparing with your wife!"

"And you're a masterful blind man comparing with Shera," came a quick cold reply.

"Screw you!"

"The same here, "the blond suddenly frowned as if smelling a piece of rotten cheese. – What is that?

"What is what?" Cid shook his head staring at his friend with an uncomprehending look. The younger man was examining each meter of the kitchen. And then…

"Cid, I'll kill you!"

Cid in his turn looked like a child that was accused of something he haven't done.

"What? What? What!"

"The wallpapers are burning! Quickly, do something!"

Indeed, beige wallpapers that decorated the wall behind the stove Cid was going to boil some water on, were flaring, making quiet noises.

Cid blinked. Then he blinked once more. And then he gave himself a mental cuff on the nape to return to the urgent problem.

"Spikey, what are you waiting from me? I'm not a foreman, dammit!"

'Spikey', on the contrary, pulled something out of the bag he brought and said a calm:

"Water!"

It seemed that time had stopped and nothing happened for the first several moments. And then with waterfall's roar a whirlpool started to spin around Cid's friend as if gaining more power from this and in a second it gushed forth to extinguish the fire that even diffused at the cardboard near the stove.

"Nice job, ya smart cool headed lad," Cid chuckled as his friend jerked at his last word.

"Not very nice, you see," the other man pointed at the floor beneath them where the water was slowly flowing.

"Out of the frying pan into the fire," Cid commented, making one step back to leave his boots dry. It didn't help though.

There was silence for several seconds as the younger man watched the water spilling the entire floor.

"Any ideas, cool headed?"

The owner of the kitchen shook his head standing in a pool of materia's job. And then it was Cid's turn to make any move to help his friend that was going through bad times. Without hesitating he shoved his hand into the depths of his pocket again and pulled out a new glowing orb.

"No, Cid, not another one!" his friend tried to protest but it was too late.

"Ice!"

And as if with a wave of a magic wand the room started to freeze in a kingdom of eternal coldness: the floor, the stove, even the wall itself.

"Damn you, Cid! I can't move now."

Cid dropped his gaze at the floor and spotted that his friend's feet were also trapped in the ice.

"Stand there…"

"As if I can move," the spiky-haired interrupted.

"…I'll use Fire."

"NO FIRE IN MY HOUSE ANYMORE!" the man protested again and sat down in an awkward position due to the fact his feet were trapped. He hesitated for some seconds and then lifting his clenched fist over his head the man dropped it down with all his physical force. The ice cracked and he freed his feet jumping aside almost slipping. "Now bring a bucket from the bathroom and we'll gather this ice in it."

Cid nodded and rushed upstairs guided only by his insight in finding where the bathroom was. When he returned one minute later with a bucket in his hand, his friend was already holding few splinters of ice in his hands.

"Why on earth are you standing there! I'm gonna freeze, if you haven't noticed."

The older man nodded and made the way to his friend almost running and, of course, avoiding the ice paths, and outstretched the bucket. The spiky-haired thrown the ice into it and embraced himself, teeth chatting with cold.

The next fifteen minutes were spent in gathering ice splinters and placing them in the bucket. It was filled two-three times and both mean had already been tired by the moment they freed a half of the kitchen.

"Cid, it starts to melt."

Cid rubbed his chin and decided to use Ice materia once again without any warning.

"Ice!"

And there was that cold in all meanings of that word silence again.

"Cid, you idiot! My hand was wet," the younger one stated at last through gritted teeth.

Someone coughed. That someone was certainly standing at the doorway.

"Do you mind telling me what happened here?"
There was a woman dressed in a black blouse and bell-bottomed jeans. Her hair was tied in a ponytail with two bangs freely hanging at both sides of her face. And she was very angry.

A little boy with amazingly blue, the color of clear and serene sky, eyes, uncombed hair, dressed in a simple sports shirt and a pair of shorts that bared his scrawny, black and blue knees, was standing on a threshold of a small house with grey walls, clinging to his mother's skirts. The woman sighed.

"Go already, why are you standing?" she asked her son blandly, gently pushing him slightly in his back. The boy took a firm stand completely leaning on his mother's hand therefore she almost dropped him.

"I can't…go…" finally he forced himself to speak, folding his arms and looking away gloomily.

The woman smiled and took him in her lap.

"Mom, let me go!" he set his hands against his mother's shoulders, wanting to increase a distance between them. But she didn't give up, on the contrary, the woman cuddle him tightly. When the boy's head rested on her shoulder, immediately he relaxed, stopping to resist.

"So will you tell me what's wrong?" quietly and almost in a sing-song voice, the woman asked.

The boy was silent. Maybe, he was finding an excuse. Maybe he was afraid and didn't want to tell it. And maybe he wasn't even thinking about that. He wasn't like the other kids.

"That's because of your father, right?" she asked warily, feeling as he tensed at her question.

"Why didn't he leave with us? Why didn't we take his things?" the boy asked slowly, fighting back the tears.

His mother smiled again. She often smiled when she didn't want to cry. But tears would only give the truth completely. The truth, she was going to tell him the day he would understand how cruel can the death be.

"He was just bored with us. Maybe one day he will understand what an interesting boy you are. Do you want to bring your dad back? Then go and play with other children."

"You also said that he ran out of FP. Family Points, right?"

She nodded feeling something like relief. The woman passed her hand over her son's hair, gently lulling him. Suddenly the boy straightened and looked down. His mother put her son on the ground and slapped him on the back again.

"Are you going?" she was even sure in the answer.

But he didn't waste words, just nodded deeply like a grown-up man, and then turned round and started to run. The woman was waving her hand to him even when he was nowhere in sight.

The boy turned the corner and set down leaning on their fence. There was dreaminess in his eyes, directed to the sky. He was comprehending the life according to his childish views on it. But then he made a promise to himself. A promise, that it would never be boring in his family. Well, he kept his word.

Once again: enjoy (and leave a review, of course)!