6. Title: Conduction
Timeframe: Three days after "Hemotoxin"Rating: K+
Spoilers: N/A

Notes: You love the shameless fluff. Don't deny it. Part of this will only make sense if you've read Serendipity.
Haha! Surprise! This chapter wrote itself a hell of a lot faster than I thought it would!

Conduction: a type of temperature regulation; heat escapes from your body e.g. when you sit on a cold rock.

Some nights, there is no way to get warm. Blankets, a fire, and hastily prepared food help, but nothing can truly chase the chill from the air.

This was one of those nights.

No matter how many blankets Yuffie swathed herself in, no matter how many cups of watered-down tea she drank, no matter how close to the fire she curled, the tense feeling of chill still lingered in her bones. She wasn't shivering, or even unduly chilled. The edge of cold simply seeped into her, sending an ache through barely-healed wounds. Not that the lumpy ground beneath her helped those aches any. What she would give for a simple cot, tucked away somewhere in a nice, warm inn.

But, it was to no avail. They had a job to do. And while she was all for saying, just for one night, "Screw it," and heading for the nearest town, her partner was another matter altogether. Knowing him, he wouldn't be up for leaving the swamps until he was absolutely sure that every last scaly menace had been obliterated. That could mean weeks of camping in the desolate marshes. Neither of them were strangers to traveling by any means, however, the thought of days on end, of his awkward attempts into the realm of conversation, of trying to find a relatively dry place to make camp, worried at her nerves.

It wasn't the thought of him that annoyed her. Far from it. Vincent was the one thing making this whole venture bearable. Alone, the silence amidst the sounds of nature would have been unbearable. With him near, the silence changed from cloying to companionable, shifting between him and her like real words never did. She liked to think she could read his silences. One meant, "No," another "All right," and still another was reserved for "Yuffie, you're going to break your neck, get out of that tree". The latter was always accompanied by the shake of his dark head, and a muffled groan. It made her laugh. His silences ran the gamut from patient, to frustrated, to brooding and back. They spoke more than she did, on occasion--she was glad to listen to them.

However, right now, in place of his silence, she would have preferred the quiet creaks of an inn settling for the night.

"Why's it so cold anyway?" she grumbled, sitting up. "It's not like it's winter yet or anything. Stupid seasons. They're doing this just to bug me, I know it."

The red and black bundle on the other side of the fire stirred from its position, reclined against a convenient tree trunk, a sleepy "Hm?" drifting from his direction.

"Were you seriously asleep?"

Red eyes focused on her, brighter in the orange firelight. "Thinking," he answered.

She threw her hand to her mouth in mock horror, drawing the blankets tighter about her in the same motion. "I thought you were keeping watch!" she scolded, on the verge of laughter. "You're neglecting your duty! We could be eaten by something big and scaley in the middle of the night!" Scooting a touch closer to the warmth of the fire, she forged on. "If you're so tired, why don't you turn in? I can keep watch, no problem."

"You need the rest," he pointed out, lifting his head from the nest of his cloak.

"I'm not the one falling asleep on watch," she replied neatly. Pulling a blanket about her head like a hood, she peered critically at him. Her brow furrowed as she noted the hollowness etched around his eyes, too familiar for comfort. "Y'know, you're lookin' a little off. You're not sick... are you?"

He shook his head. "You'd be the first to know otherwise," he told her.

Preening at the words, Yuffie grinned. "Heh, true! Since I'm so observant and all." Another silence fell. She shifted in place, too awake now to fall asleep, too cold to sit still. For lack of a better option, she discreetly watched him, dark eyes playing over the deepening shadows about his eyes, noting each tear still lingering in black leather--the last of his scars from their battle. When his head drifted down toward his chest, she stifled a snigger. "Hah! I knew it!"

Vincent's head jerked back up, arching an eyebrow in her direction. His expression only clouded further as she pointed an accusing finger in his direction, mimicking the look on his face.

"I bet you haven't slept in days, huh Vince?" she said. "Even you need a nap every now and then." Her arms folded, once again drawing the blankets tighter.

He gave the headshake-sigh combination that usually earned a chuckle from her direction. This time, however, it only served to irk her. "I've been keeping watch," he said simply. "We haven't finished yet. There's more out there."

"Yeah, and if they show up, I'll fry 'em before they eat you." Yuffie blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Quit being stubborn. You're seriously worse than I am. Loosen up." He opened his mouth to protest and she cut him off. "And don't you say anything about me and being hurt," she warned. "I'm fine." Now she threw a wink in his direction. The quirk of surprise in his otherwise wearied face was well worth it. "I had you around to save me, after all. I mean, not that I really needed saving. I could've taken 'em. Swear I had a summon on me somewhere. If I'd found it, man would those guys have been in for a surprise..."

Now it was her turn to be cut off. "How are you going to stay awake?" he asked. There was a note of smugness in his voice, as if he expected a simple question to defeat her.

It almost did. Then, her gaze returned to the much-abused clothing he wore, even as her mind drifted back to another time. An idea crystallized. "I'll show you," she snickered. "Take off your shirt."

The look he shot her was priceless--albeit it was not much more than a raising of slim, black brows. But, for him, it was akin to the dropping of a jaw. Her own face split into a devilish grin. She had to resist the urge to run with his train of thought, just to see how scandalized an expression he was capable of making. Part of her lived for this, for the times when even imposing, stoic Vincent Valentine could be caught off-guard, disarmed by words alone. "Oh calm down," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's full of holes is all. Don't you have any spares? Anyway, I'm gonna fix it up for you. I'll stay awake, you take a nap, and your shirt gets better."

One of his eyebrows returned to its normal position, though the other remained in a skeptical quirk. "It's fine," he said.

"Is not."

"Yuffie..."

"I can do this all night, y'know? I've had lots of practice."

He sighed, shaking his head. It was as good as a "yes", to her. Mindful of the blankets, she prowled over to her pack, rummaging through until the needed items were found--a sparse repair kit and a faded, familiar dark-blue sweater. She tossed the latter to him, and silently congratulated herself as a faint smile twitched onto his lips. "You kept this?" he asked, studying the heap of material in his hand.

"Uh, kinda. I figured the guy who had it last wouldn't want your germs all over it," she said. In a few paces she was beside him. She flopped down where she stood, looking up at him expectantly. "Well? Hurry up and change. I don't have all night to wait on you."

After regarding her for a moment, he stood, slowly. There was no arguing with her in this mood, he knew from experience.

The cloak fell to the ground, pooling between them. Once again, she found herself struck by how the loss of the garment changed him. He was smaller, more slender, while wearing only the black. Now that there was no shell, no blood-colored outer skin, to hide behind, she found herself unable to look away, even as he began peeling off the leather shirt, carefully undoing unseen zippers clustered about the left arm and easing them over the claw. He looked so much more vulnerable, standing over her, bare-chested, the fire painting warm shadows over too-pale skin. She was both disappointed, and relieved when he slid the sweater on, returning to his original position. Neither spoke, she simply took the tattered shirt, while he wrapped himself back into his cloak, settling back against the tree.

Companionable silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft oaths she uttered when the needle unexpectedly pricked her skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him begin to drowse again, dark curtain of hair sliding forward to hide his face from view. Idly, Yuffie wondered why he always had to be reminded to fix his clothes. Didn't he notice the holes? It couldn't be lack of cold. From the way he was bundled up, he preferred being warm just as much as she did.

Speaking of which…

Sewing required free hands, which meant she was forced to part the blankets, thus sacrificing some of her precious warmth. She glanced at him. His head drooped all the way to his chest, a sure sign of at least a half-doze. Her eyes flicked back to her sewing. Already, she imagined she could feel the cold freezing her hands in place, even as she tried to keep stitching. A chuckle bubbled in her throat. Yes, it was an excellent excuse. There would be nothing he could say to contradict her. And, after all, he did owe her for risking her fingers on his shirt's behalf.

Besides, even boney Vince has got to be more comfortable than sleeping on the ground again… At least… he was the last time I did this…

Memories of that night brought a faint blush to her cheeks, as well as a soft flutter within. The fear she'd felt back then had faded to the background, leaving only the fond memories of being able simply to sit with him, just as she simply sat with him now. Back when she'd made her promise to him…

The needle pricked her finger, hard. Biting back a yelp, she lifted it up for inspection, rolling her eyes at the tiny dot of blood that welled up. Sewing was not a good chore for wallowing in broken promises—especially now that she had such a golden opportunity to make it up to him.

He had to be cold. No one, not even Vincent the Stoic, could possibly be comfortable in this weather. Not without some other heat source. He couldn't possibly be sleeping well, therefore. Without proper rest, he'd fall terribly ill again, perhaps worse than before! Warming him up would be a favor—a part of her promise!

At least… that was the reasoning behind her next move.

Vincent jerked back into wakefulness as something warm flopped down beside him, leaning contentedly against his shoulder. His first instinct was to push away, to leave whatever cornered him. Said instinct was firmly squashed as he woke fully, taking into view a mop of dark brown hair, hunched over his shirt. Blankets hid the rest of the figure from sight, but it was enough. He sighed.

"Yuffie… what are you doing?"

"Keeping you warm, what's it look like?" she answered, not looking up from her work.

He arched an eyebrow. "I'm not cold."

"Pfft."

"What?"

She looked up at him, imitating his expression masterfully. "Yeah you are," she said. Dark eyes returned to the sewing. "Otherwise you'd be snoring by now. Not that I think you snore or anything," she added hastily. "But that's not the point. I mean, if you were all nice and comfy, you'd be out. But nope, you're wide awake! So, I'm gonna fix that for you."

His brows drew down. Either she was far more stubborn than he thought, or he was being very unclear. He opened his mouth to send her back to her space, but she cut him off, settling herself closer into his side, going so far as to lean her head against his shoulder.

"Don't even try," she warned.

He shook his head. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm cold too, y'know." Dark eyes again regarded crimson. "Body heat's the cure for it! Get used to it, I'm not moving. This way's best for both of us."

"You should've said something, then." He tugged at a corner of his cloak. "You could borrow this."

"And leave you miserable? Nuh-uh, Vinnie, I don't think so." She looked down again, and silence fell for a few beats. "You took care of me back there," Yuffie said, more quietly. "Now give me a chance, will ya?" Her fingers deftly picked out a bad stitch, setting a new one into place with uncharacteristic slowness. "We all need someone to look out for us. And we all need someone to look out for." Yet again, her head rolled up to look at him. A smirk blossomed across her face. "Besides, I promised you I'd take care of you."

His arguments died on his tongue. She was right—he had let her make that promise, hadn't he? With a sigh, he adjusted himself against the tree, to let her have more room, but she still kept close to him.

"I think you're missing the point of 'body heat' here, Vinnie," she informed him. "As in, you actually need another 'body' for the 'heat'. Not a tree and a chunk of grass where your rear used to be. Get over here. It's only for one night."

Another sigh escaped him. She took that as a good sign and promptly curled up beside him, keeping her eyes on her needlework, victorious.

He would not admit it until much later, but the warmth of the young woman beside him did add something to the comfort of his position. He would never admit that as he drifted off, he allowed his head to rest atop hers. It was just more comfortable this way. And, when she woke him for his turn at watch, he made no comment when she laid her head against his shoulder, curling into him with a contented sigh. Her hands folded under her chin, soaking in the warmth as best they could.

We all need someone to look out for us… and we all need someone to look out for.

The words flickering in his mind, Vincent carefully draped a bit of cloak over her exposed hands, noting, with some amusement, the faint smile darting across her sleeping face.

And just to wet your appetite… stay with me for Part 7: R.E.M!

"Rapid eye movement (REM) sleep is the stage of sleep characterized by rapid movements of the eyes. Most of the vividly recalled dreams occur during REM sleep. It is the lightest form of sleep, and people awakened during REM usually feel alert and refreshed. REM sleep is so physiologically different from the other phases of sleep that the others are collectively referred to as non-REM sleep."

I'll let you draw your own conclusions…