-1Vincent couldn't believe he was actually doing this. The door in front of him was a familiar door. It was a gunmetal gray door, not much unlike the other WRO HQ doors found to the side of the HQ's central control room labeled "Reeve Tuesti--Office" (and in rudely scribbled graffiti beneath it, "Cait Sith too!"). He could definitely believe that he was standing in front of it. Vincent often visited his friend's office for briefings, updates on information, and occasionally, when Reeve wanted some tactical advice from the former Turk. However, this time was different. Vincent took a deep breath, looked around the control center to make sure a certain brown-haired girl was not in her SND chair in the control room's corner, and then knocked on the cold steel of the door.
"Yes? Come in." Came the immediate response from within.
Vincent hit the button next to the door, causing it to slide into the wall to its left, and stepped into the office. The place was a familiarly messy-looking place, belying Reeve's actually well-planned system of organization. The place was also rather well-furnished and decorated with various , another subtle hint at the existence of the "inner Reeve", that is, Cait Sith, the smart-alecky, fast-talking, Scottish accent speaking, robot cat whose personality Vincent had long suspected was what Reeve was actually like underneath the façade of calm, careful politician and businessman that the former Director of City Development had built for himself while working for the Shin-ra corporation. It was understandable that Mr. Tuesti would want to hide his zany side and appear more business-like while holding high positions in Shin-ra Power Company or, later, the World Regenesis Organization, letting it out only when he operated his robotic alter ego, the Jenova War Hero Cait Sith.
It was that side that greeted Vincent, in fact, in the form of a bouncing, star-producing robotic cat doll (number…Vincent was pretty sure this was Number 8) which vaulted out from behind a group of papers on the floor (probably set to automatically sort the papers until Reeve had activated its remote a few seconds ago, one of several interesting functions Cait Sith had that allowed the Commissioner of the WRO to operate without the aid of a secretary) and landed about four feet in front of Vincent, welcoming Vincent with a hearty "Ah! Vinnie lad! How are ye?" in that ridiculous Scotch accent of his (Reeve would have made a decent actor or ventriloquist, really, Vincent thought…he'd yet to catch the businessman either drop the accent or move his lips while speaking as Cait Sith).
Vincent ignored the feline and turned to its operator. One of the things about Reeve that made him such a good leader was the amount of respect he showed everyone else, even those who worked for him. This extended even to Vincent, who no one was really sure if he worked for the WRO officially or not. Even now, despite the fact that he had Cait Sith talking to Vincent, he still looked up from his work (looked like a map of some kind) to make eye contact with Vincent. This suited Vincent just fine.
"Reeve. I need to speak with you."
Apparently Reeve was in a silly mood, for Cait Sith opened his mouth to speak.
"I would prefer to speak with you. Without the cat."
There was a slight pause. "I see." And Reeve was serious again. "What did you need to talk to me about?"
And once again, for the second time this day, Vincent found himself at a loss for words. He'd thought about this for the past five hours since lunch, and STILL he had a hard time bringing himself to talk about it. A part of Vincent's mind (a part that apparently liked making the other parts miserable) wondered if love would forever be Vincent Valentine's bane, forever to cause him grief and confusion. Another part (one that apparently was a lot nicer than the aforementioned part) retorted that if all went well, he'd have a shot at fixing said problem right now.
Vincent swallowed hard (something he didn't usually do) and spoke.
"I need to ask you a question." He stated as calmly as he could manage.
"Yes?"
"...How does one...go about...asking another person on a...date?"
As was to be expected from an off-the-wall question, there was a long silence in which Reeve first appeared surprised, then skeptical, then confused, and finally thoughtful. Out of the corner of Vincent's eye, he saw Cait Sith return to sorting papers as Reeve's attention wandered away from the doll.
"Vincent...you're a grown man. Why would you need to ask..."
"Reeve. Considering how my last relationship turned out, I thought it would be prudent to ask for advice."
It was painful to say, but Vincent thought it had to be said... Reeve briefly winced, furrowing his black eyebrows in sympathy for how difficult it must have been to squeeze out that particular remark. Another silence followed as Vincent tried very hard to push aside painful memories, and as Reeve began to process what was going on.
"Why...are you asking me?" He queried. "Why not someone else...say...Cloud?"
"Reeve, Cloud has probably never been on a date in his life."
"Well...Cid then. He's married, so obviously..."
"Cid...says many things. I prefer not to have to sift through his advice for useful information."
Vincent left out the fact that he'd also seen Cid tailing him and Yuffie when this whole mess started, making it rather awkward to talk to him about it.
"What about Red...Nanaki? He is wise beyond his years."
Vincent didn't even dignify that suggestion with a response. Reeve quickly realized how utterly ridiculous the idea of asking the last known member of an endangered species for romantic advice was, and moved to his next suggestion.
"Well...what about Bar-...Why not one of the girls then?"
"I don't feel comfortable bringing Tifa into this."
Vincent left Reeve to draw his own conclusions on why he'd ruled out Yuffie. Perhaps he would figure it out one day. Vincent honestly didn't care.
Reeve sighed, resigning himself to the task which, apparently did require his assistance.
"I'll say right now that I am not an expert in the field of romance. Is this okay with you?"
Vincent said nothing, but did not leave, so Reeve took that as a yes.
"Before I say anything, I need to ask: Who is the lucky lady?"
Vincent wondered briefly if the Commissioner's poor choice of words still merited a response before speaking.
"...Shelke."
Silence. Reeve had sincerely hoped the answer would be something other than that. He could have said something about anyone he could imagine Vincent falling for... other than her. He would even have had some advice concerning what to do if Vincent had been smitten with the princess of Wutai (Cait Sith's input being: "Have fun with that!"). But Shelke?
It was Reeve's turn to be at a loss for words. Any of the other bachelorettes in his knowledge at least behaved like women (or girls in some cases). However, Shelke had a tendency to behave more like a machine or one of the computers she was always using than a person, let alone a normal human female. She was cold, anti-social, and impossible to read. Reeve racked his mind, trying to come up with a solution. ANY solution. After a bit, he decided to fall back on one of the fundamental rules of behavior he'd developed to help himself survive in the unforgiving corporate world of the Shin-ra upper echelons. When in doubt...return to the basics. So what was the most fundamental thing about romance Reeve could think of?
Was it trust? Appearance? Compatibility? Kindness? Something else? And how would this help with Vincent's specific question on how to ask a girl out?
Reeve sighed in his mind. He hated doing this to an old friend like Vincent, but he'd been backed into a hopeless corner. He reluctantly resorted to another of his old Shin-ra survival rules. When all else fails, bullshit until it goes away. He didn't like employing this tactic here, but he'd been left no choice. Reeve thought for a second, prepared his most plausible set of fluffy principles, and began to speak.
Vincent hated when Reeve did that. He understood WHY it was necessary for Reeve to have extensive skills in bullshitting (no politician or executive can live long without said skill), but it still annoyed Vincent when Reeve did it to him. Especially when Vincent actually needed the information Reeve was...filling the holes in, like now. Reeve's technique of information simulation also had a similar result to those developed by other politicians. It resulted in long-winded lectures or speeches full of nothing but fluff. In some ways, it reminded Vincent of Yuffie's long rants about absolutely nothing. After all, their subject matter was in the end, the same. Absolutely nothing.
Both Vincent and Reeve were relieved (and in Reeve's case, a little bit guilty) when Vincent finally managed to escape from the Commissioner's office. Reeve wiped his brow of the sweat that had built up there. There was a reason that there wasn't a Mrs. Tuesti. Reeve really wasn't an expert in romance. Poor Vincent though, he was even worse off in said regard. Reeve really wished he could help him, but... He sighed and returned to planning out the upcoming survey of Mideel's dense rainforests.
Vincent walked down the hall away from the control center, his mind racing. He was seriously beginning to reconsider talking to Cid, or maybe Tifa. He'd really hoped that Reeve could help him, but through the smokescreen of bullcrap that he'd put up, Vincent could clearly see that Reeve had no advice for him. Vincent knew he needed help in this regard. He most certainly did not wish for this relationship, if it began, to have an end as catastrophic as his last one had. Well, Vincent admitted to himself. In reality, he didn't really want the relationship to HAVE an end if it were to start. So he really needed advice. There was no way with his current knowledge that he could make a relationship with someone work. Not without advice. Thus, Vincent swallowed his discomfort and decided he would head to Tifa and Cloud's bar/orphanage in Edge and...
"OOF!"
A grunt, the thump of a body hitting the floor, and the clattering of metal and plastic shattered Vincent's train of thought. In his distracted state, Vincent too lost his amazing Turk-trained balance, and soon teetered over after whoever he'd collided with.
"Oh...I...apologize for colliding with y-..." Came a soft voice from in front of where Vincent sat, still a bit dazed.
Vincent, still a bit distracted, idly checked his bottom to make sure he hadn't hurt it in his fall for half a second before he stopped. That voice had a familiar monotone quality to it.
Vincent looked up and away from his behind towards the voice.
"Shelke...I..."
"Vincent Valentine." Vincent wasn't seeing things. That was definitely Shelke lying prone on the ground no more than three feet away from him. There was only one person Vincent knew who always insisted on tacking his last name onto his first when addressing him. Vincent silently wondered what he'd done that karma had decided to play so many mean tricks on him today. Why oh why did it have to be her that he knocked over in the hallway?
"...I'm sorry for knocking you over."
"Your apology is accepted."
Vincent remembered the clattering of metal from when he'd knocked her over and quickly spotted two long rod-like objects connected by a tube lying not too far away from Shelke--her EM sabers. In apology, he got up and retrieved the weapons, handing them to the girl.
"You dropped this."
"Thank you." In return, Shelke looked over behind Vincent, where a cellular phone lay. She retrieved it, both of the two helping the other pick up his or her possessions. "Your phone seems to have fallen from your pocket when you lost your balance."
She handed it to Vincent, who promptly opened it to make sure it had not been damaged by its fall.
"Thank..."
Two small orange pieces of paper, perforated at the edges and about the size of one's thumb, formerly wedged in between the two halves of the phone, fell to the ground as Vincent opened it. Vincent nearly dropped his phone again in shock. Apparently karma wasn't finished with him today.
"What are these?" Shelke asked no one in particular as she bent over to pick them up.
Vincent rapidly discovered that his voice had decided to take a vacation. Words just failed to come out of his mouth. He parted his lips to speak, but nothing but a thin bit of air proceeded forth from them. He just stood dumbly as Shelke began to read aloud from the slips of paper.
"Admit One...Loveless...Event Square Theatre...Vincent Valentine...why are you in possession of two tickets to 'Loveless'? If my assumptions are correct, you only require one for admittance to the theatre."
More air and a tiny, pitiful squeak came from Vincent's mouth.
"Vincent Valentine, I can only assume you are holding this ticket for someone else. May I inquire to as for whom this other ticket is intended?"
Vincent Valentine, veteran of the Jenova War, hero of the Deepground Conflict, experienced former member of Shin-ra's famous Turks, made another valiant attempt at speech. He produced a valiant stammering noise.
"You are deprived of your ability of speech, your pulse seems to be quickening, your breath has become exceedingly shallow. Vincent Valentine, you are nervous. Why? Who is this ticket for?"
Vincent wanted to speak...he really did. But he thought of Lucrecia...how it felt when she'd chosen Hojo over him...did he really want to face rejection again...he couldn't speak...mustn't speak...he...
Lucrecia had regretted her choice later.
"The ticket..."
Shelke cocked her head to listen.
"The ticket...it..."
Shelke looked up at Vincent with her ice-blue eyes, waiting for a complete sentence.
"...you."
"...What?"
"The ticket...it's for you."
Totally taken aback, Shelke silently pointed at her own chest.
Suddenly emboldened after taking the first action, Vincent knelt down so that he was at eye level for the growth-stunted soldier.
"Shelke...I would like you to come see 'Loveless' with me this Friday."
In an entirely irrelevant train of thought, Vincent felt rather proud of himself. He'd actually done it. In a relevant train of thought, Vincent anxiously waited for her reply, heart pounding. Was there any actual hope that a person so subdued in her emotional response would actually return his feelings?
A whole, agonizingly long minute passed before Shelke responded.
"I...would not mind. I have no other plans. I will meet you in this building's lobby after I have finished with my duties here. Do you have plans for transportation to Golden Saucer?"
Vincent nearly fell over. Had she just...? In a daze, Vincent muttered something incoherent (and possibly entirely irrelevant), then receded into a hazy bliss he hadn't experienced since his days as a Turk.
"I see. I will see what I can do about finding us transportation then. I will consider asking Cid Highwind about one of his airships. I will see you then. Now, I have things to attend to in the control room. Please move aside."
Vincent dumbly stepped aside, still in a state not dissimilar to shock. Shelke silently stepped by him and down the hall, around a corner, and out of sight.
For the first time in over thirty years, a huge grin lit up Vincent Valentine's face.