A year had passed. Vincent stood by Cid's side as he steered the ship.
Cid had a secret plan.
They had spent a few days in the ship, delivering airship parts and supplies. Vincent never asked questions, never complained about their travels. It was simple, really; wherever Cid went, Vincent followed. He'd go wherever Cid took him.
Cid happened to be taking them to Costa del Sol.
Vincent didn't notice until he stepped onto soft sand. On the beach, where the sea met the shore, stood a man in black.
"Let's get married," was all that Cid said.
Vincent followed.