Co-written with calvi_sama on LJ. For this part, she wrote Vincent, Tseng, Reno, Rude, Shalua -give the girl some credit! I wrote Cid, charming man he is, and a couple other lines for various characters. You can see who does the majority of the work *holds up a "fans this way" sign; points to Cal*

Standing in the lobby of the modest hotel, The Seventh Heaven, and dressed in a tuxedo that was proving to be rather itchy about the neck and wrists, Vincent awaited his 'date' for the evening. When 7:40 hit, he bit the inside of his cheek as he gradually lost the desire to pace. He was about to go upstairs to Shalua's room when Tseng stopped his action with a hand placed on his shoulder. Glancing sharply at his second with an irritated order to release him on his tongue, his words caught in his throat as he followed Tseng's gaze to the stairs leading up to the first floor. He blinked and cleared his throat as Tseng released him, watching Shalua slowly descend the steps. She was stunning, having apparently taken seriously his request for an off-the-shoulder red gown that did indeed hug her shapely body. He couldn't stop himself as he appraised her, running his equally red eyes over her pale, bare shoulders, down her chest and the hint of cleavage that was revealed, to her flat stomach and curvy hips where the gown relaxed its hold to fall in satiny waves to the floor. Her hair was up in an elaborate coif that left gentle curls framing her face and brushing her slender neck.

As she walked up to them, Vincent could see the lovely face behind the wire-rimmed glasses flushed lightly. A tiny string of diamonds upon a thin golden chain rested upon her chest, and delicate diamond drops adorned her ears, no doubt a touch from Tseng. He noticed also that she wore very little makeup, just enough to highlight her features, and he approved. Very much so. He never liked a woman who hid herself behind any kind of cosmetic, and he found that he could not tear his eyes off of Shalua. She reminded him so very much of her. When she stopped in front of them, Vincent reached down and took her delicate hand in his and raised it to his mouth, brushing a kiss across the back of it. "You're breathtaking, Ms. Rui."

Shalua cleared her throat, averting her eyes. "Yes, well…thank you, Mr. Valentine. And I thought we had agreed to call each other by our first names? Or have you rescinded that request?"

Vincent chuckled. Tonight was going to be a very interesting night. "No. No I have not, Shalua. Come," he offered her his arm, which she took, "let us to the ball."

Shalua snorted, but ginned widely. "Do not confuse this convenience with a fairy tale, Vincent."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Shalua." Vincent said, face mirroring hers as he lead her to the waiting car, Tseng following silently behind them.

When they arrived at the gala, Vincent helped Shalua out of the car and began walking her up the carpet to the waiting doorman, who was none other than Cid Highwind. Vincent only just caught himself from reacting to that, and managed to keep his face straight and impassive. But in the back of his mind he hoped that the cop's job wasn't just watching the door.

Cid had accepted the job with gritted teeth. He should have known, of course, that the arrest was going to draw attention to him. That was, after all, the ultimate goal. He had just overlooked the fact that he would have to work for that attention. Vincent had warned him of that, and he had thought he understood, but now he was truly beginning to. His comfortable, if boring, days as courier and office joke were at risk. Well, he would always be a joke, but his workload was in danger of increasing exponentially.

And really, bouncing at the gala? Nothing of any interest ever happened at those. The Presidential Committee was just trying to save money by hiring people it already paid…and then refusing to pay them extra for the job. Scarlet had given him the list of guests three days beforehand, warned him not to lose it, and advised that he begin learning the names and faces on it.

He arrived at the building an hour before the event was due to start, dressed to match the guests and accompanied by a clipboard and dark glasses. The list was still around and only minimally damaged- it now bore several fingerprints and one large tea stain. However, Cid knew every name on it and had a mental picture of the face that matched each. Details of a face were his specialty, perhaps because he delighted in people as much as he rued them. The slightest differences between two people were likely to fail to escape his notice, and he supposed that was why he had been given this job.

The guests began arriving not much later. Cid found it particularly easy to tell true guests from impostors –and one or two impostors did try to get past him. In response to Cid's very loud inquiry as to why anyone would bother trying to sneak into a thing like this, the second attempted sneak answered that he had been paid by the real Mr. Andrews to appear at the gala in his place. Cid agreed that Mr. Andrews had been very wise indeed to wish to avoid this mess of an event, but regretted that he could not allow the stand-in to proceed without authorization from the Presidential Committee. The Committee, of course, would be hurt that Andrews had even tried this, and another political mess would begin, and, well, frankly, no one wanted to be the cause of that. The double, dejected about the loss of the money and all the time wasted learning Andrews' relationships with other guests, left with no more trouble.

One name on the list stuck out especially for Cid, naturally: that of one Vincent Valentine. Surely Vincent would not be attending such an event?

The question was answered nearly an hour into the admittance period. Vincent, accompanied by a rather pretty young woman, approached Cid and waited for access to the building to be granted. Trying not to react favorably to Vincent was difficult for Cid. He wanted so badly to greet him, talk to him, offer to buy him a drink later, or otherwise interact with this man he still barely knew, but that would be a stupid decision on his part, and he made quite enough of those. Still, he had to show recognition in some way. He winked behind his glasses, knowing Vincent would see, and began teasing Shalua.

"Name?"

"Shalua Rui."

"Not on the list," Cid said gravely. "No access."

Her mouth dropped open as she spluttered for a moment, looking accusingly at Vincent. "But I'm his date. He invited me here-"

"Not on the list."

A voice from the back called, "Highwind! What's the holdup?"

"Nothin' at all," Cid yelled back, and said to the waiting pair, "Y'all go on in. Sorry fer the wait."

Vincent, looking only slightly peeved, escorted Shalua into the building.

Cute, Highwind, Vincent thought irritably as he placed a comforting hand at the base of Shalua's back. He would have dwelled on Highwinds's childish behavior more but they were descended upon by a nearly continuous stream of well-wishers, a loose and more flattering term for 'brownnosers'.

When they got a moment to breathe, Shalua tugged on Vincent's arm subtly and said, "Perhaps you'd like to dance? I don't think I can take much more of this disgusting, fake, vacuous, unending parade of lies…and I swear if that fat pig what's-his-face…Palmer grabs my ass one more time, I swear I'm going to scratch his eyes out!"

Vincent was so startled that he laughed out loud and tightened his hold around Shalua's waist, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "My dear, I knew I liked you." Shalua chuckled in response and allowed Vincent to lead her out onto the dance floor where they spent the next half an hour dancing together.

Thirty more minutes later, admission was closed to everyone. Cid was relieved of his duty and invited to join the rest of the guests inside, an offer he accepted quite happily.

He decided to seek out Vincent and watch him from a distance, the most he could do in his situation. He certainly couldn't be seen casually conversing with him; he was content to mix with the crowd and sneak an occasional peek at Vincent and his date. He did note that the pants Vincent was wearing made his ass look absolutely great, and elected to bring up that comment during their next meeting. Yes, everything was fine- until, that is, he saw them kiss.

It wasn't really so much a kiss as it was a peck on the cheek not dissimilar to Cid's kiss for Vincent a few days prior –except, of course, that it was on the cheek- and Shalua squawked and flailed appropriately at the unexpected gesture. Cid felt a strong, unreasonable surge of envy at that, and even more at Vincent's laugh following the incident.

Valentine was not his, Cid knew that, and he knew that things would always be so. Even so, he stared longer than he should have, feeling put out and even a bit hurt. Though he should not have let his eyes rest on them for so long, he would be glad for allowing it later.

Finally, by mutual consent, they headed toward one of the enclosed courtyards. Vincent snagged two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter as they walked. By sheer luck, they had the courtyard to themselves. Shalua headed over to the fountain in the center and took a seat on one of the stone benches beside it, while Vincent stood and watched the water, lost in thought. They enjoyed a moment of silence, each sipping the champagne before Shalua asked softly, cocking her head, "So, is there a Mrs. Valentine?"

Vincent chuckled quietly, but it was a sad sound. "No. Are you volunteering, Ms. Rui?"

"You know, I've noticed that whenever you get uncomfortable, you revert to calling me 'Ms. Rui'," Shalua said.

Vincent looked over at her and shook his head, grinning lopsidedly. "And you keep impressing me. If you ever find yourself out of job, please do not hesitate to call. I would love to have someone of your sharp wit and keen sense of observation in my circle."

"And you keep avoiding my question," Shalua said wryly, moving over to pat the bench beside her.

Vincent sighed and walked over to sit down. "I was married once, Shalua. But…not anymore."

Shalua nodded and took his hand. "I see. You split up?"

"Why do you want to know?"

She shrugged. "I just don't see how a woman could let a man like you go. You're very special, Vincent. Infuriating, frustrating, a bit manipulative, but also noble, honorable and gentle."

Vincent snorted. "Oh do not start that with me, Shalua. You know what I do for a living. You've heard the stories…"

Shalua silenced him with fingers pressed to his lips. "Yes, I have. But I've also seen the man and looked into his eyes. And I know that that is not who you really are. It's a job, Vincent, and you do what you must. Sometimes that job can consume you, and you have to work to remember who you are. Do you think that my position is any easier? I come home at night and wonder if I'll ever be clean again after all of the lies that I've had to tell."

Vincent just stared at Shalua, gazing into her calm blue eyes until he couldn't any more, looking away as he pulled his hand from her grasp and leaned forward onto his knees. He toyed with the stem of his champagne flute. "She died," he murmured. "She died before all of this," he gestured around them absently, "swallowed me whole. So for that I am grateful."

Shalua, understanding what he meant, asked, "How did she die, Vincent?"

Vincent didn't look up, and made a fist with one hand. When he spoke his voice was broken and resigned. "She died giving birth to my son."

Shalua gasped, her hand going to her throat. "Oh, Vincent. I'm so sorry, I…" She looked around a moment, grasping. "Well, at least you still have your son?"

Vincent snorted again, and looked over Shalua. "He died a month later. I had one month to hold my son, to love him. He looked like her and he had my eyes. He was so very perfect." He looked back down at the ground.

Shalua tentatively placed her hand on Vincent's shoulder, and when the man didn't pull away she asked, "What were their names?"

"Lucrecia." Vincent's voice was hollow. "We fought over what we would name our child. She loved the name Aiden, and I wanted to name him after my father, Grimoire. She never liked that name." He laughed sadly, but when he looked up at Shalua his eyes were dry. "My son's name was Aiden."

"It's a good name, Vincent." Shalua said, rubbing his back slowly.

"Yes, it was…is." He sighed and stood up, draining his champagne and set the glass on the edge of the fountain. "But they are my past. A lot has changed since then. What about you, Shalua? Is there a 'Mr. Rui'? Sister? Brother? Mother? Father? I bored you with a little of my past, now it's your turn."

It was Shalua's turn to snort as she too rose to her feet. "You did no such thing, you jerk." She huffed. "I have a fiancé, back in Junon. My mother and father are both dead, but I have younger sister, Shelke. She'll be of age next year and is applying to the Academy here in Midgar. She has her heart set on it, but I'm afraid she won't make it."

Vincent frowned. "Why wouldn't she? If she's anything like you they'll fall all over themselves to admit her."

"She has no sponsor, and it's too expensive. We can't afford it." Shalua said sadly. "But she's still going to try. There is a slim hope that she could make it on grades alone, but…" she shook her head. "I'm not holding out hope, and I don't have the heart to tell her that."

Vincent stepped over to stand in front of Shalua. Looking down at her, he was struck once again at just how much she reminded him of Lucrecia. "I shall sponsor her, and think nothing more of expenses. If going to the Academy is what she desires then how can I not help?"

Shalua gasped and took a step back as her hand once again flew to her throat. She shook her head furiously. "No! Vincent, we cannot accept that. We couldn't possibly pay that back, and the sponsor had to have gone to the Academy and…"

Vincent reached out and placed a hand gently over Shalua's mouth to silence her. "You talk too much, Ms. Rui." Vincent said wryly, and when Shalua's eyes narrowed in a glare he laughed softly and lowered his hand. "Ah-ah!" he said when she took in a deep breath to continue speaking. "That's better. This isn't a loan. This my wedding gift to you and your betrothed, the lucky bastard. And I did go to the Academy, graduated top of my class actually. Besides, if they don't give me what I want I'll just threaten to kill their families." He began to snicker when Shalua's face paled, and when her mouth fell open he began to laugh. "Oh do relax, Shalua! I'm only jesting! I may be a beast, but I'm not trivial or stupid!"

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Shalua said suspiciously. "I don'tknow you. How do I know that you won't just show up on my doorstep two years from now and demand the money?"

Vincent sighed and sobered. "That's right, you don't know me. But you can ask any of my associates, and any will tell you that I am honest and when I give my word, I keep it. I wish to give this to you. Will you accept?"

Shalua eyes him a moment longer before nodding. "Yes. I will accept."

"Then you have made me a very happy man, Shalua," Vincent said, smiling warmly. "Now, shall we return inside? They're about to start the auction." He bowed slightly, once again offering his arm.

Shalua nodded again, but before she took Vincent's arm, she wrapped both of her own around the man in a fierce hug. Vincent for his part was at first startled, then he relaxed and wrapped his own around Shalua's soft, slender body, pulling her into him and relishing the feel of hers against his own. It felt so very good to be embraced. He buried his nose into her neck just behind her ear, the faint smell of her perfume tickling his nose and shivering down his spine to his crotch. If she were not promised to another, Vincent wouldn't hesitate to bed this woman. As it was, he clenched his teeth and reined in his libido to pull away from Shalua. "What was that for?" he asked softly.

Shalua smirked. "I wanted to. And I thought we could both use it." She took his arm. "Now shall we to the auction?" she asked, parroting his earlier words.

Vincent rolled his eyes, smiling broadly. "Indeed, my dear lady, let's."

Someone else, he noticed, had been following Vincent. This person also watched from a distance, hiding behind chunks of crowd and pieces of art. It didn't take him long to figure out that this other was watching Vincent for entirely different reasons.

Shit, he's out t'get 'im. Y'asshole, y'can't hurt Vincent. Vincent's my friend! Cid stopped in his train of thought to ponder that he had thought of Vincent first as a friend and not a lifeline. In that moment, he decided that his job as joke cop was far less important than Vincent's safety, and that had nothing to do with cleaning up Midgar.

For the rest of the night, he subtly stuck to Vincent like glue, taking a seat immediately behind him when the auction started, and kept both eyes on the malevolent other watcher.

Said watcher, one Raven IV, no given name listed –Cid could remember admitting him- also remained close, and Cid could tell after a while that the other could sense his presence and his awareness.

Things could get dangerous from here, and Cid could only hope that Valentine, too, realized that he was being followed. He knew he would notice Cid, and with any luck, that would have also led to his discovery of the other, but Vincent seemed quite enamored with his date.

Cid prayed that it was an act, both for his selfish jealousy and for everyone's safety.

The other watcher didn't make his move until long after the speeches, after the dance, and after Valentine had exited the building. Another cop was on duty making sure that everyone leaving had been on the initial entry list or listed as a date (Cid had made note of dates' names and passed on the list), so Cid was free to leave as he chose.

He chose to follow a few feet behind Valentine. The other watcher had preceded them by about ten minutes, but Cid was certain that he was waiting outside. Sure enough, when they were out of earshot of the cop on exit duty, Cid caught sight again of Raven, moving closer in a decidedly stealthy fashion.

"Hey, Mr. Valentine! You dropped this!" Cid called, and charged at Vincent holding a pen in his hand. "Here ya go," he said, handing over the object.

"A pen? Highwind-"

"Ssh. I was tryin'a make him leave. You got Tseng nearby? I know y'musta noticed 'im by now, but he's been followin' ya all night, an' I…well. Uh, nice t'meetcha ma'am. Cid Highwind. Sorry 'bout the trouble earlier. That was just t'give Valentine a hard time." Against all better judgment, here he was, informing some unknown about their lack of enmity. "I'd appreciate if y'd keep this all quiet, Ms. Rui?"

Vincent frowned at the cop, taking the pen. What was Highwind talking about? Then he felt the eyes. His back stiffened. No, he had not felt them at all the whole night, and that worried him. Shalua was looking up at him worriedly, and he smiled gently down at her, placing himself between her and direction of danger. Just then he spotted Tseng and jerked his head at his second. As soon as Tseng arrived he said, "Please take Ms. Rui back to her hotel, and see that she gets there safely. There appears to be someone intent on starting something this evening."

"But sir, do not be stupid, you should-" Tseng started.

Vincent held up his hand, stopping Tseng. "Do not argue with me, Tseng. Not now. Just take Ms. Rui back."

"Fine," Tseng growled, "but I'm leaving Rude and Reno here with you, and I will not argue about it."

Vincent grinned lopsidedly. "I expect nothing less."

Cid's chest still ached, a product of the intimacy he'd seen passing between Vincent and Rui, but he refused to let it get in his way. "What do…whaddaya want me t'do, Vincent? Stay outta yer way? I don't…I don't know what t'do anymore." He had remembered quite suddenly where he had heard the name "Raven" before, and the implications were intense. He couldn't worry Vincent with those potential problems now, though. "You just have to tell me, because I belong to you now."

Vincent's eyebrow rose as he turned to Cid while Shalua was being shepherded off by Tseng, and Reno and Rude made their way over to them. "What are you talking about, Highwind?"

Cid laughed humorlessly. "It's over for me, Vincent. Don't you see? They've been onta me since the beginnin', I reckon. I'll be lucky if they don't kill me too. But for now, we need t'take care o' this. We'll talk about the rest later."

"No I don't 'see', and you're absolutely right we'll 'take care of this'," Vincent said, grabbing Cid's shirt and dragging him close to his face. "Because I need to know what you screwed up. I have a lot riding on you, Mr. Highwind. More than you'll ever know." He gently pushed Cid away and turned to Rude and Reno. "There's someone here I'd like to have a little chat with. Apparently, thanks to Mr. Highwind here, I've found out that this 'someone' has been following me around all night. Be on your guard."

Rude nodded and frowned, while Reno's teal-colored eyes narrowed. "Then why didn't you go with Tseng, boss? Why did you stay behind?"

"Because I want whomever it is that is following me, and if I left, he would too. To keep the hunter in pursuit, the prey needs to remain in sight and attainable. That, and Highwind and I have some unfinished business to discuss." He turned to Rude. "Mr. Rude, you're going on your own little hunt; enjoy yourself." Rude nodded, scowling fiercely before moving off into the crowd and disappearing.

"Aw, man! How come Rude gets to have all the fun?" Reno whined, then winced as Vincent turned toward him.

"Because that is what Rude does, Reno, and does well I might add. I need you to get the surveillance tapes from tonight. I don't care how, just get them. And that is what you do well, now go."

Reno nodded and moved off in the opposite direction. Turning back to Cid he said, "Do you remember their face well enough to pick them out off of a tape, Mr. Highwind?"

"Yeah," Cid sighed. "I do. More or less know who it is an' who he's affiliated with. As fer what I screwed up, I don't see as I screwed up anything 'til I told yer sorry ass you was bein' followed. If I'd let 'im kill ya, it'd still all be just fine, but we wouldn't hardly be much use to each other, would we!" Cid was so tired of Midgar. In Midgar, everything was always his fault. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm not upset with you. I'll calm down." And, as was predictable, he always found at least one way to make everything worse.

"Never mind that," Vincent said taking Cid's elbow, and steering him in the direction of an empty hallway he'd seen upon leaving. He kept Cid in front of him, and stopped the man when he came across an unlocked door. Looking around for any prying eyes and seeing none, he gently shoved Cid in first and closed the door behind them. Turning toward the tired-looking cop he crossed his arms over his chest and said sternly. "Now I think you need to explain to me what you meant by 'they've been on to me'."

"Well, I don't know fer sure if they have been, but it's a good guess. Dunno what woulda tipped 'em off…" Cid swallowed. "I remember that guy. He, uh, he does business with Scarlet. I hate to assume, but…I think it's her sendin' 'im after ya." Cid pulled off his glasses and brought a hand up to rub his temple, unable to look at Vincent. "An' however it happened, I'm sure I'm t'blame for it."

Vincent snorted in irritation. "Unlikely." He began to pace, mind churning as he tried to come up with a reason Scarlet would want him eliminated, and coming up, frighteningly, with nothing. "Chances are she and Rufus have been corresponding for quite some time. Scarlet most likely just saw you as a possible distraction." He paused and looked over his shoulder at Highwind. "Unless of course you are working for her." He turned to face the cop, pinning the man with a hostile stare. "And all the records I have on you were an elaborate set-up. What does Scarlet want with me?" A lot was riding on just how Highwind answered this question.

"If I- what? No. Shit, Vincent, I wouldn't do that to you. I couldn't. I told you I belong to you, an' I meant that. I gave my word that I wouldn't betray you, an' I meant that too. But if she's set Raven on ya…usually how that works is that he follows ya fer a while to get you all paranoid, stays away in hopes you'll drop your guard thinkin' he forgot about you or isn't after you anymore, an' then strikes once he's been away a while. So she either wants you on edge so you'll see somethin'…but I don't know what that'd be…or she wants you dead, but I don't know why." Cid slumped against the wall and sank to the ground, staring wearily up at Vincent. "I really am nothin' but a fool. I never have been. If the records you have of me say that, then they're exactly right. If not, then I don't have a clue where th'hell you got your information."

Vincent snorted and turned away from where Cid sat against the wall, bringing his hand up to rub his temples. Finally he winced and sighed, reaching both hands up to undo his tie, then unbuttoned his coat and removed everything under it until he was dressed only in his dress shirt, pants and dress shoes. He draped the lot of it over a chair and walked over to slide down the wall and join Cid on the floor. He leaned his head back and closed his suddenly gritty eyes. "I do not know why, but against my better judgment, I am going to believe you, Highwind."

"That's 'cause I'm tellin' the truth, Valentine. It's as simple as that. Man like you c'n tell the difference, an' that's a damn good thing fer a guy like me." Cid sighed heavily and let his head fall onto his knees. "If there's as much ridin' on me as you say…help me make sure I don't screw it up for ya. This isn't fer me anymore. I couldn't care less about climbin' the ranks fer m'self anymore, but if you need me t'do that, I will." He looked up earnestly at Vincent. "All you hafta do is tell me what t'do an' keep me alive while I do it."

Vincent sighed; now was not the time to discuss such things. He needed to speak with Tseng, get the man's opinion because things just got a whole lot more complicated. But what he needed most was to get the hell out of here and to a safer place. Just then, his PHS rang. Grunting, he stood up and returned to his coat. Locating the phone he pulled it out and flipped it open. It was Rude. "What did you find?"

"Nothing, the man's gone. I looked everywhere," Rude's deep voice came back over the line.

"Dammit," he muttered. "Well, then meet us at the front of the building, Tseng should be returning soon. I'll have Reno meet me here and we'll join you."

"Understood." And the line went dead only to immediately ring again with Reno checking in.

"Where are ya boss?"

"Not entirely sure," Vincent said wryly looking around. "Ducked in here with the cop. Look, you remember that hallway just to your right as you entered?"

"Uh-huh," Reno grunted.

"We're down that, in a room off it. We'll meet you in the hallway." Vincent said and snapped the phone shut. He picked up his discarded clothing, slipped his jacket back on and turned to Highwind. "Time to go. I assume you have a ride, because it would not be a good idea for you to be seen you leaving with me." At the cop's nod, he continued. "Here's what you're going to do. Play nice, do what you're told. I cannot afford to have even more attention drawn to me. Practice your investigative skills and make discrete inquires after this 'Raven' and why Scarlet wants him tailing me." He reached for the door. "And I'll have my men do the same, but we shall be quite a bit more restricted." He cracked the door and saw Reno's concerned face. The redhead looked up and down the hallway and nodded his head. Vincent looked back over his shoulder at the cop. "Give me ten minutes, then leave." He opened the door and began to walk out only to pause. "Oh, and Highwind?" He looked back over his shoulder. "Thanks for the warning."