Disclaimer: Still don't own Final Fantasy VII.

A/N: Sorry that this chapter is so short. The next one will be a little longer AND more interesting.

\/\/\/

Stand By Me

Chapter Three

A Quaint Chat

\/\/\/

Zack was appreciative of her help and she made tea for the both of them while he worked on something light for her.

"Uh…Spaghetti?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That's fine," she replied.

He turned back to the stove.

After Aeris' walked away, she had left everything. He wasn't sure why. From the look of things, no one would ever know the house had been abandoned or that someone had died. It merely appeared as though someone were on vacation, or had stepped out for a quick walk. The flowers had been wilting when Zack stepped in, but he continuously changed them in and out to brighten the garden.

Where's that flower wagon when you need it? He chuckled to himself.

He dusted, kept up with the housework, and gardening. It was quite a joke. Mister Mom, he began to call himself. With a lifestyle like this, you'd never know I was in SOLDER.

A fire was going on the other side of the room, warming the house, and Shera had only slightly taken the time to admire the housekeeping before seating herself down at the table.

"That was all Aeris and her mother," Zack credited. "I only clean what time changes around here. Flowers, bedding, dust, ya know."

"I see. Were you…related to her?"

"Like…family?"

"You know, a brother? A cousin?"

"Her old boyfriend."

There was a disturbing silence that fed through the room after that. He tried not to notice it, but the two had suddenly grown uncomfortable. Zack knew why. It wasn't easy bringing up old memories. Things like that were meant to stay dead. Along with the dead.

"Her…old boyfriend?"

"Yes. There was an accident and she thought I had died. So," he forced a smile, but she couldn't see it with his back turned to her, "I don't exactly qualify as an EX."

There was another bout of silence, but it did not nettle him like it would someone else. In fact, he did not mind at all.

"I'm sorry," he heard her whisper. "I…I didn't know…"

"Most don't," he replied. "It's something that just comes with time. History, I meant. An individual's history. Heh, maybe it's the territory instead. It comes with the territory." He turned, "Anyway, it's nothing you need to worry about." Zack went to join her at the table while he waited for the noodles to boil and the sauce to heat up.

She quirked an eyebrow in an odd sort of way. "To…worry about?"

"That's right. I haven't been in the company of others for a while. So it's not really their fault for not remembering me. So," he set his hands upon the table, fiddling his thumbs, "can I ask you something?"

"As long as it's not too personal," she replied, suddenly folding her hands in her lap.

"That depends on if you consider it personal." He cocked his head to one side. "Can I ask what you were doing in a place like that? You don't seem like the kind of woman who would associate herself with someone like Don Corneo."

She frowned. "He's been around for a while. No, no it's not like that. I, uh…I was worried about someone, so I followed him here."

"I see."

"Well, while I was searching, I was abruptly hoisted upon someone's shoulders and thrown into a carriage. I really didn't know what was going on."

"Sounds reasonable enough. The wrong place at the wrong time."

"Yes," she concurred. "I'm sorry if you were hoping it was going to be an interesting story."

Her words prompted a smile from him. "No, no, I'm just glad you're safe from him."

"And I have you to thank for that," she mirrored a smile, but it was much more sheepish. "Now, may I ask you something?"

"As long as it's not too personal." Then he laughed. Shera did, too.

"Why did you come?" she asked after she had sobered up.

His eyes turned to the pot on the stove. "I don't know."

"What?"

"That's the weird part," he explained, "I don't know what motivated me to go after the carriage. One minute I'm outside on my Daytona, and the next, I'm beating the pulp out of two punks." He leaned back in his chair, raising it onto two legs. "See, that's always been the thing that messes me up. I mean, I'm not a psychic, but I get this little voice sometimes," he knocked at his head, chuckling. "Human conscience, perhaps?"

"That's too much of a coincidence," she argued softly.

"I know. There was no reason for me to follow it. But, see, a lot of weird things have been happening to me since I came back. Sometimes I think I know why, but other times…" he trailed off, hoping that she would understand where he was getting at.

"Well…I'm happy you did." She offered another smile. It was different from the others she had shared, he noted. There was a hint of light glowing at her lips and a bright radiance flickering in her eyes. For a moment, her soul seemed pure and flawless.

I shouldn't have lied. But if I hadn't, I don't think she'd be smiling now.

A physical weight exhausted him into the chair even further, and he had to force his gaze from hers. "Spaghetti's almost done," he muttered, a change of topic doing him better.

"I'll get the plates."

"Don't trouble yourself," he waved her away. "After all, you've already gone to the trouble of making the tea. You're supposed to be my guest." He shared a weak nod with her and defied the law of gravity as he pulled himself from the chair. "I insist you stay the night. I insist that you eat the food. And…" reaching up to the cabinet, he withdrew two plates and then leaned over to the silverware drawer, "I insist that you accept the hospitality without feeling indebted. I insist."

His eyes were drawn from her. He focused on the food and preparing dinner. He took the kettle from the stove and poured tea into two cups.

"How do you like your tea?"

"Oh," he could hear her rise from the chair, followed by soft footsteps moving across the cobblestone floor. "I'll take care of that."

"What?"

"I insist."

Zack shot her a look, but he couldn't keep a straight face for long, and soon, both were laughing at the other.

"All right," he sobered after a moment and brushed past her, holding the large pan with both hands. He set it upon the surface of the table and walked back to get the two plates and forks. He repeated the process another time. "Hope you enjoy it."

"I probably will," Shera replied.