A.N.: A brand new VinTi from me! I'm just as shocked as you are. This concept kind of came to me one day, and it just grew from there. Yes, this IS a multi-chap! I repeat, THIS IS A MULTI-CHAP! Please, hold your applause.

Anyway, about the story. This is basically post-AC. But I'm being VERY non-specific because I know next to nothing about Dirge of Cerberus—I'm taking a LOT of liberties. Basically this is my idea of a post-AC timeline. Also, my understanding of WTF was going on in AC is also limited, so I'll be taking liberties in that department too XD But I know you won't mind. You're a good bunch. The reviews are proof of that.

This was so hard to write for me. Vincent is so damn hard to write:strangles writing gods: But I did it. It wasn't easy, but I did it. But please, I need lots of encouragement on this one. It's totally different for me and out of my idiom.

Thanks to all the usual people.

XXXXXXXXX

This was not an ordinary friendly visit. He had been spending quite a bit of time at the bar in the past months, due to her insistence that he come see her and the fact that he could no longer deny that he had grown somewhat lonely in his extended solitude. So whenever he felt a pang for affable surroundings or a pleasant conversation, he wouldn't hesitate to drop in.

But today had been different, an aberration from his normal unplanned visits. The ringing of his phone had sounded so strange echoing through the ethereal forests. His mind had jumped immediately to bad news when he answered it; so rare were his phone calls. He had been greeted by her voice, lovely in its familiarity but worrisome in its hesitant tone. She had called with what she had seemed to hope sounded like a casual request to come over, but he knew better. She had never done anything like that before. And if the sound of her voice was any indication, it was anything but an average venture. Anxiousness had formed a large knot in his stomach on his way over.

As he watched her travel about the bar with shaky movements, he decided his gut feeling was dead-on. However, his suspicion of something disastrous waned as he observed her. There was nervousness, even dread in her every step. No doubt about it—she had an ulterior motive for inviting him here. He couldn't help feeling a certain bitterness at the realization, but it was quickly replaced by sympathy. Something was eating her up inside—she quite clearly wanted to ask him something.

He had always been rather perceptive, and she was notorious for wearing her heart on her sleeve. The combination made her no less readable to him than an open book. Her hands shook slightly with trepidation as she handed him a drink, and her eyes widened in sudden insecurity. "This is what you wanted right?" she asked, unsure.

"Yes. Thank you," he said, taking a sip from the glass to prove his point. But he began to grow impatient, wishing she would cut to the chase and reveal her motivation for summoning him.

That wasn't to say he didn't enjoy her company. He loved her company, no matter how uncomfortable it made him when he finally forced himself to acknowledge that. But he had pushed any possible budding feelings aside to cater to her crushed spirit. Things had been difficult for her since Cloud left.

Cloud… the thought of the man still incited feelings of distaste. He had always disapproved of the way that man handled the delicate relationships in his life, most importantly the complicated one he had with the woman behind the counter. But how he could toss her and the life he had aside for some whim that he himself didn't even understand… Vincent's blood boiled at the thought. Cloud had said that he was still looking for the life he was destined for, and he didn't think it was there at the bar, with the children, with her. Vincent wished him luck finding it anywhere else.

"Vincent…" she murmured, not looking him in the eye.

She looked so distressed and his heart went out to her. He wanted to make this easier for her, if it were at all possible. "What is it?" he asked quietly, trying to coax her into divulging the truth.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself to meet his gaze. "You know that things have been different since… since he left."

He frowned at her omission of Cloud's name, unhappy that the memory still caused her that much pain. "You've handled the situation very well. A lesser woman would have broken down completely a long time ago."

Her eyes fell to the floor again, grabbing a dishcloth and wringing it in her hands. "Th-thank you. That means a lot. But Vincent… it's just too much sometimes."

He watched her patiently, his silence his only signal that he was listening, waiting for her to continue.

"I could handle it when he was here, but now…" She trailed off again, sighing into a small and humorless laugh. "I guess you already know that I invited you here for a reason."

"Yes." A request was imminent, but he was still uncertain of what that request would be. If she wanted money, he would help in whatever little way he could, but he couldn't see why she wouldn't go to Reeve with such a plea.

She straightened suddenly, renewed resolve detailed in her countenance. "I'm… I'm asking you to come live here with me."

He wasn't quite sure if he was surprised or not. The prospect had not occurred to him, but now that it was on the table, it made perfect sense. The poor woman had been left by the man she loved with a business that was not meant to be run by a lone person.

"Please Vincent," He tried not to tense when her hand blanketed the one he had wrapped around his glass. "I need you."

His mind raced to a million different places at her words, not to mention the way she was practically begging him. But his more rational side told him that she didn't need him, emotionally or physically, she needed assistance. But even that point was ineffective, considering he had no idea what he needed.

"With the kids," she hastily added with a trace of embarrassment in her voice, as if realizing how her words sounded. "And the bar of course. And the deliveries," she said, eyes wandering. "The orders are really piling up…" she trailed off.

He observed her carefully, taking in her desperation and the vestiges of her heartbreak. "Tifa," he muttered. She looked startled at the sound of her own name. He reasoned it was probably because he didn't say it very often. Thinking of it now, he couldn't understand why—it was a very pretty name, very fitting of the woman it belonged to. "You realize that I do not make this decision lightly," he said with severity. "I cannot answer you right away."

"O-oh," she said, slowly pulling her hand away. "Of course," she insisted. "Take as much time as you need." She returned to wringing the dishcloth in her nervous grasp.

He drained the contents of his glass before placing it on the counter with a clink that seemed to boom in the tense and silent air of the bar. "I shall think about it then," he stated, pushing away from the counter as he stood.

"All right," she said gently, eyes following him as he walked towards the door. "But you don't need to lea—"

When her words caught in her throat he turned back to her, an eyebrow raised.

She shook her head. "Never mind. Just think about it, okay?"

He nodded, just once, and stepped out of the inviting bar and into the dark and confusing world of deliberation.

OoOoOoOoO

He fell into frustration as he stalked down the street. The helping of hard liquor helped his thoughts and emotions to flow a bit more freely, but they all stumbled over one another as his feet nearly did the same in his distraction. He had no idea where he was even going anyway. He could only think of one possible destination—home. But for some reason, he didn't want to call it home anymore. He couldn't imagine why he ever had.

Damn it all, he could think of hundreds of reasons why he should say yes.

First and foremost, he wanted to help her. His morals wouldn't allow him to ignore a friend in need. Tifa would do the same for him in a heartbeat, were the situation ever to arise. Perhaps it wasn't in his nature to be quite as selflessly giving as she was, but following her example couldn't be a bad thing. She was a kind and generous human being. It had only taken a short time for him to be aware of that. He'd do well to do things the way she would. He would feel like a better person, lessening that oh-so-heavy burden he always harbored, if he did her this favor.

And truth be told, maybe things were growing a little lonely in his… very humble abode. His location choice was as poignant as it was somewhat depressing, strategically situated within walking distance of both Lucrecia's cave and the City of the Ancients: Caught somewhere between the one he couldn't save and the one who had the spirit and the courage to do the whole 'selfless sacrifice' thing correctly and become a hero for it.

He hadn't the heart to actually stay in either place. He was sure if he remained in the Ancient City for too long he would run into Cloud. He did not wish to see that man, for fear he would say something foolish and hurtful in his desire to defend Tifa. And the idea of living in a cave where the ghost of Lucrecia dwelled was very unsettling.

His little cavern was a happy medium, perhaps minus the happy part. But a cave was no place for a person to live, even one who had spent thirty years in a coffin. That should have occurred to him much, much sooner. Indeed, a home with friends and human interaction was a far more appealing aspect, a large push in the right direction, an incentive to grant Tifa's request.

And of course, he was vulnerable to an ever-growing soft spot that he held for Tifa. He assumed that any man, any person who met her would become enamored with her, but he had been in her presence a rather excessive amount. Every time he came to see her he wished he'd thought to come sooner. Every time he left he wished he'd stayed longer. And every time he was with her, he wished he could do something, anything to make her forget about Cloud and the mounting encumbrance he'd left her with. Yes, he could come up with many a method for just how he would put any other man out of her mind.

But every possible scenario he would think of for acting out that whim only served as a painful reminder of the one reason he absolutely could not accept to living with her—the one very important, very serious reason that trumped all the others; the one that plagued him even now.

Temptation.

Oh, there was no getting around it. It was always there. It was worse when he was near her. And he shuddered to think how bad it would be sleeping under the same roof as she was, perhaps in the same room from what the size of her home had led him to believe.

No, he wouldn't do that to himself. And he certainly wouldn't do that to her. A man harboring possible interest in her when she was still heart-broken over Cloud was the last thing she needed to have around—no matter how badly Vincent wanted to prove that he could fill the void that she was feeling.

Even as he thought of his motives for saying yes, he found them contrived and mildly pathetic. He wanted to have a reason to say yes because he wanted to live with her and wanted to be an important part of her life and wanted the opportunity to be more than just her friend and possibly her confidant. But that was as much a lame excuse as it was a dangerous prospect. He couldn't afford to give into want anymore. Not after where it had landed him last time.

Nevertheless, some annoying little voice in the back of his head nagged at him, telling him that Tifa would be worth it. She would be worth abandoning his safe, sheltered life, worth once again putting his heart on the line because he was a sucker for a beautiful woman.

But it wasn't just about him. He thought of her words earlier. She needed him. She didn't want him. Anyone could help her out around the bar. He would even provide her with an assistant himself. It wouldn't be hard finding a man who wanted to spend a lot of time with her. His eyes narrowed even as he thought of that, but he quickly shook it off. There was no room for protectiveness and petty jealousy in his life.

So he wouldn't let them in. Those were certainly emotions he could do without.

…That was that then. He would have to stay here, in his meager but secure little existence. Of course. That was the only reasonable option… All he had to do was tell her. He eyed his cell phone briefly before deciding that it would be better, more respectful to tell her in person. His gaze swept over his residence, his shelter that was anything but a home, once more. He laughed bitterly as he turned and headed out. How could he even have considered living with her? His mind reeled with cynicism. It would be a shame to leave all this

He knocked on the door just once, surprised to find it locked, and waited for her to answer. It had been such a complicated decision to make, but the journey back to her bar had been enough time for him to confirm that he had made the right choice.

She looked a bit frightened as she opened the door. He could only imagine what kind of characters would pester her so late at night. She heaved a breathy sigh of relief when she realized who it was. "Vincent…" she said softly, letting his name hang in the air, silently asking him for an answer.

He braced himself. It wouldn't be easy to say, but he would take himself out of his comfort zone for her benefit. He looked into her desperate pleading eyes and took a deep breath.

"So," he began, a small smirk forming on his face, "Which bed will be mine?"

XXXXXXXXX

A.N.: There you have it folks. I promise I'll get back to Wild Ride after this. I think. That little 39 is still nagging me XD I'm honestly not doing it to torture you, it's just my own personal belief that once a new chapter is up, the chances of getting reviews for the older chapters goes down considerably. And so sue me, I'm enjoying having over 40 for all my chapters :P I can't help it.

But please, leave me some reviews for this one. It wasn't easy!

And I apologize for the misleading summary XD After the numbers I got for Wild Ride I can't underestimate the power of a summary.