:O What's this? A double post? Consider it sucking up for missing so many post dates in the recent past. ^^

They rested there together longer than Cid bothered to note, occasionally kissing, always touching. Whatever unhappy feelings they had created earlier in the day seemed to have gone, and for that, Cid was very grateful. His body was sore; Vincent's weight, slight though it was compared to what it should have been, did not help in the healing of his ribs or the fading of the bruises. He could never complain about this, though, so he was content to remain as he was until his stomach rumbled. "Guess that means dinner oughta happen sometime soon," he offered quietly, knowing there was little food in the house. "I think I'mma go take a shower 'r somethin', an' then I c'n go run somewhere an' get us food. There ain't nothin' in the house."

Vincent frowned as he looked up and around from where his head had rested on Cid's bare chest. The cheek that had lain on Cid was warm and pink and his hair was fuzzed out a little. He looked around for a clock but didn't see one so he looked at the slightly parted curtains instead and noticed that the light coming into the room from between them was the golden red of sunset. He blinked in surprise. "Have we really been laying on the couch all day?" He asked in disbelief. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so completely and utterly unproductive in his life. No, he could. He and Lucrecia had spent more than one day just lazing around and doing nothing but talking and cuddling. He frowned at the realization. So what did it mean that he could do this with Cid? Nothing. It meant nothing. Didn't it? Slowly and carefully he sat up and tried to run a hand through his hair but winced when he encountered a snarl. Giving that up as a lost cause without a proper brush he settled for rubbing his face with both hands instead. Now that Cid mentioned it, it had been a long time since that sandwich he had eaten and popcorn wasn't going to cut it. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled suggestively. "I think that might be a good idea," he conceded. "What do you have in mind?"

Cid shrugged, easing the last pieces of himself from under Vincent as the other man sat up. "I dunno. I don't really do much fancy eatin'," he pointed out. "And, uh, y'll hafta pay this time, prob'ly. Consider it a date." He grinned and pulled Vincent's hands away from his face so he could press a kiss to the cheek that hadn't been squashed against Cid for the past…several hours. Had they really spent several hours together that way? The thought of it warmed Cid's heart. "I got a comb you c'n use if y'wet it, but I ain't got no use fer a brush," he offered, having noticed Vincent's hair woes. "Could always shower with me," he added, tossing a suggestive glance in Vincent's direction as he stood. "Take care o' yer hair as well as the boredom y'll no doubt face without me in th'room."

Vincent smiled wryly. "While your offer is tempting, I only just got my hair dry from the last shower. You go on ahead and I'll get some money. As for what…" he fell silent as he thought about his options. "How do you feel about Wutainese? If I remember correctly, there is a small authentic restaurant not too far from here that does carryout, and it's within easy walking distance."

"Temptin', is it? Huh." That was nice to hear. Nice enough, in fact, to inflate Cid's ego to the point that the smile on his face immediately stretched from ear to ear, only to shrink again as the action pulled at the split in his lip. "Guess I'll hafta make it again sometime, once I've figured out how t'sweeten it so's y'can't refuse." He thought for a moment and could find nothing wrong with Vincent's suggestion on dinner, so he nodded and said, "Sounds good t'me. You find me directions an' call in the order an' I'll go pick it up once I'm done in there."

Cid's smile was probably one of the most beautiful things Vincent had ever seen in his life and he found himself grinning back at Cid. "I look forward to that challenge, Mr. Highwind, but…" he cocked his head and blinked at the man. "… what do you want me to order?" He chuckled and his grin turned impish. "If you don't give me an idea I might order you sea slug. It's a delicacy you know."

Cid made a face. "Uh…m'sure it's a real treat an' all, but I'm gonna hafta pass on the slug. I don't do…y'know, seafood. Or things that sound like stuff yer better off steppin' on than eatin'." Actually, his aversion to several different foods left him a rather limited menu. "I dunno. Somethin' with chicken? Not spicy 'r sweet 'r undercooked. That'll work fer me." Essentially, something he could have cooked himself had he access to the ingredients. "If y'want me t'try somethin' else, just order it an' lie to me 'bout what it is," he advised, turning around. "I'll be right back."

Vincent huffed softly as Cid walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. That had not been very helpful. He fished his phone out of his pocket and thought a moment about what Cid might like, tapping the closed phone against his chin. Finally he decided to go with gai-zhi chicken, a lightly breaded meat best served with white rice and a sauce that was almost more like a light gravy. It was mild in spice, but rich in flavor. He flipped open his phone but froze when a voice spoke from directly behind him:

"Why do you keep fighting me, Vincent?"

What was this? Vincent's mouth worked soundlessly as the room suddenly grew cold and his vision darkened. Shaking, he sat down at the table and buried his face in his hands. Not now! He was awake, for the love of Holy!

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you," Sephiroth hissed, and Vincent shuddered as he felt a cold breath on his neck.

With a shuddering breath, he looked up and saw his tormentor for the first time in nearly four years. The man was wraith-like and transparent, but the power Sephiroth exuded was a tangible thing, overwhelming and awe-inspiring. He looked just as he had the last time Vincent had seen him; dressed in black, his long silver hair drifting around him as though caught in some breeze that only he could feel. Even so ghost-like, his skin was luminous and pearlescent, and his acid-green eyes with their twisted, abnormal pupils seemed to glow and pinned him in place causing him to shiver with dread. So much had changed since the truth was uncovered. No longer allies in a common cause, they had become adversaries… no, Sephiroth had become the master, and he the puppet. Only now, the doll was fighting its master.

"I don't." Vincent whispered, groaning softly as the familiar bone-chilling cold invaded his body once again despite the warmth of the apartment.

"Oh, but you do," Sephiroth said dangerously leaning over the table towards him, and Vincent jumped when the other man touched the table as a jolt of static-like electricity shot up his arms almost painfully.

"I don't understand-" Vincent tried, but was silenced by Sephiroth's growl.

"Do you expect me to believe that? You are weak Vincent! Gullible, selfish, too easily manipulated. Don't forget your promise to me. Did I not warn you what would happen if you defied me?"

"Yes," Vincent gasped, shivering as he averted his gaze, and Sephiroth snorted in disgust.

"What must I do to make my point, Father?"

"Don't call me that!" Vincent cried softly, eyes snapping back up to meet Sephiroth's in horror.

"Why not? You did not complain in the Pens." Sephiroth purred, stepping up close so that he invaded Vincent's personal space.

"That was a long time ago. We were different then." Vincent was shaking now from the chill, his jaw chattering. He was so cold that his teeth hurt! Sephiroth's presence was positively glacial.

"Were we," Sephiroth sneered, stepping back. He slowly began to fade. "I warned you, Vincent, and you did not listen. Now it is too late. You shall reap what you sow, and then you will belong to me completely. Say goodbye to all that you love."

"What do you mean?" Vincent whispered, staring at Sephiroth with rising panic. "Wait! Sephiroth, come back! Tell me what you meant!" But the man was gone, leaving behind only his silky, echoing laughter. Breathing shakily, Vincent's eyes darted around the room frantically as he tried to understand what Sephiroth meant. If the man could appear in the waking world, what other abilities did he have? Just how strong was he now? And what threat did he pose to Cid? The fear gripped him in an iron claw that threatened to choke him. The sound of water cutting off in the bathroom made him start violently and he opened his phone, quickly placing the call for food. After he closed the phone, he resumed his brooding. He must be on his guard if he was going to protect Cid. He shivered again with the cold of realization that the future just became even more uncertain.

Cid darted from the bathroom into his room with a towel wrapped around his waist- he'd forgotten to bring in clothes and didn't think Vincent would much appreciate him walking outside in a towel again after what had happened before. He dressed quickly in the first presentable things he found—so what if the jeans had a hole in the left knee? They still looked fine- and headed back toward the living room, shuddering at the chill he was sure hadn't been there when he'd left. "Got it called in?" he asked cheerfully, walking over to stand next to the other man.

"Mm," Vincent grunted in assent, frown still on his face. After a few more seconds of thought-chasing, he looked up at Cid. He blinked, momentarily speechless as he took in Cid's open face and happy expression. If he lost Cid… the unfinished thought scared him to death as his mind took him back to that day in the warehouse when Cid had been shot and that possibility had been very real. He stood, phone in his fist. "Just give me a moment to get dressed and we can go," he said, beginning to head for the bedroom in which he had discarded his clothes. He couldn't let Cid go alone. Sephiroth had just proved that he could appear in this world, and the power the man had worn like a second skin had backed up that threat.

Cid's brow furrowed as he took in Vincent's expression, and then he shook his head at the words. "Uh-uh. You can't go. I mean, they already know y're here, but if we go off to a restaurant t'gether, y'think that won't make shit worse? Nope, you'd better stay here on th'off-chance that they think y'already left, if anybody worth notin' is still watchin'." Besides, they couldn't just waltz around Midgar hand-in-hand. Tseng would have a panic attack if he found out, and so would Vincent when he realized what they'd done. "You stay here 'n'set th'table 'r somethin'," he suggested, and his eyes brightened. "An' Laz left me with some stuff that might strike yer fancy a little more'n my dollar-store wine, f'ya wanna dig that out. Should go pretty nice w'dinner." He started to head for the door, but remembered that he needed money if he planned to buy food, so he turned around again. "Uh…I promise I'll bring back yer change, an' I'll pay ya back when I get a job, but…"

Vincent paused in his progress to the bedroom to turn around and look at Cid. "But what?" He asked, and then shook his head. "It doesn't matter Cid. I'll be careful and hang back, no one will even notice me. Believe it or not, especially given my rather… unique appearance, I've gotten good at being invisible." He hesitated a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. He didn't know just how much he could tell Cid, but… "Besides, I believe I'm the only one who can adequately protect you anyway." And it was the truth. If Sephiroth decided to come after Cid, then he was the only one who was equipped to anticipate and counter those moves.

"But y'll hafta pay this time, s'all. And no, y're not goin' out there." He paused in his tracks, frowning again. "Whaddaya mean, 'protect me'? I'm only goin' down th'street, Vincent." Cid started to laugh, but then noticed how serious the other man looked. "Protect me from what? An' whaddaya mean y're the only one? I'd say I c'n take care o' myself, but fer one, I ain't been doin' too good a job o' that, an' fer another…what th'hell do I need protectin' from?" he asked again, almost alarmed now by how seriously Vincent seemed to be taking this supposed threat, whatever it was.

Vincent looked down at his phone, still clenched in his closed fist. "I'm a powerful man, Cid, and powerful men have powerful enemies," he said softly before looking back up at Cid. "I wanted to try and keep you from their attention for as long as I could, but it would seem that at least one of them knows of you now." He neglected to mention that Sephiroth had known about Cid for quite a while, no need to worry the man any more than he already was after all. "And it's the worst one." He turned to face Cid fully and leveled his red stare on his lover. "I'm the only one who can protect you from him, so do not question me. His power is frightening, and I'll sacrifice my life to keep you safe." He turned back towards the bedroom. "Now, just give me a moment and I'll be right out."

Cid sighed. "No. I'm not lettin' you put yerself at risk fer me. Y'do that enough durin' yer every day. Please, Vincent, stay here." It would be easier just to let the other man accompany him, but Cid didn't like the idea of them being seen together, especially in such a clearly casual way. It wouldn't do either of them any good, but could harm them both immensely. "Think of it this way. I'm bein' watched from here t'ShinRa Tower. Anybody comes after me, th'people watchin'll be jumpin' on them b'fore I c'n s'much as bat an eye." It wasn't really much of a reassurance, but it was probably the best chance he had. "Look. This…enemy o' yers c'n only speculate as of now, right? Th'hell d'ya think he'll do if he sees us waltzin' around Midgar t'gether like a pair o', well, lovers?"

Vincent had stopped in the doorway of the bedroom when Cid spoke again. He calmly heard the man out before saying. "They can't protect you, Cid. Not my men or yours." He looked down and reached his free hand up trace the scars crisscrossing his chest. "Only I'm strong enough," he murmured, then spoke again more loudly, "I know it's dangerous to be seen together, an enormous risk for us both, but no one who can see us that short distance to the restaurant can even come close to this man…" he looked over his shoulder at Cid, "… who already knows about us."

Cid could feel the weariness on his own face as he responded, a bit more bitterly than he had intended, "Well, y'can't be here always. Eventually I gotta be on my own, an' I'll hafta run fer groceries an' go fer interviews an' meet up with Aerith. If y'can't be here fer those times, then I'm just as vulnerable then as I would be if I went to get food just now without ya. But y'know what? It ain't that big a deal. You wanna go, you c'n go. I only even offered 'cause I knew y'didn't wanna be seen around here right now."

No, no he couldn't. Cid was absolutely right. The only way he could keep an eye on Cid the way he wanted to, was if he brought Cid back to the Tower, and he couldn't justify that. Not to mention the apocalyptic shit that would hit the metaphorical fan if Rufus found him. That and it would make Cid miserable having to be hidden away like some embarrassing secret. But he was here now, and he could do this. He would just have to be very, very careful. He hesitated a moment longer before closing himself in the bedroom and slowly beginning to dress himself. He didn't want to call one of his men for a ride as that would attract too much attention, so he would have to sneak out a back door, or a service entrance, or something. Perhaps Cid had an extra trench coat he could borrow. No, that wouldn't do, it wouldn't fit properly. This really was a dumb idea, but the alternative was out of the question. Briefly, he contemplated just calling it an evening and having Tseng just pick him up and take him back to Shinra… but he didn't want to leave Cid. The thought of going back to his lonely, empty apartment alone in that steel prison was the only thing that seized his heart up worse than Sephiroth's threat. Now let's examine that threat, Vincent thought as he pulled his shirt on and began buttoning it. Would Sephiroth really do something to Cid right after giving that warning? Everything he knew about the silver-haired man suggested to him that Sephiroth would wait to do something when it would inflict the most pain, the most damage. And would it really hurt to let Cid do this? He could clearly see that being cooped up in this moderately small apartment was slowly driving the poor man crazy. With a shaky sigh, Vincent reached into this trouser pocket and withdrew his wallet. Pulling out a 100-gil note, he returned the wallet to its place and exited the room to pause just past the door. "I'm sorry, Cid," he said, and it was the hardest thing he had ever had to say and his voice was wooden. "I was being unreasonable. I'm sure you'll be fine if you wish to go. Here is some money, just don't… don't take long, and don't stop moving."

Cid had gotten even more annoyed as Vincent took his time in the back. Was he really going to make Cid stay here? It was on the tip of Cid's tongue to point out that if Vincent went for food, then Cid would be just as alone here, but he was done arguing. Vincent could do whatever he wanted. The other man walked back in his direction, and Cid blinked when Vincent apologized. He didn't like that tone of voice; it was eerily similar to the way Vincent had sounded when they had first started talking regularly. Cid didn't want that back, the distant and cold Vincent he'd tried so hard to warm. Rather than commenting, though, he stepped up to Vincent, took the money, placed a kiss to his cheek, and promised, "I'll be right back. Don't you worry 'bout me, sugar."

Vincent didn't respond to Cid's kiss, didn't even watch Cid as he grabbed his coat and left the apartment; just closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer to whatever god was listening that nothing would happen to the most important man in his life. Several minutes after Cid had pocketed the gil and left the apartment, and Vincent could move again, the first thing that struck him was how…quiet everything was. The apartment felt strange and empty, devoid of life and warmth, and it startled him. This was different than before when he had felt the pervading cold and hatred. Now it was sad and lonely. Was this what it felt like to love someone and have them leave you? It was a new feeling to Vincent, different from the permanence of death. Wrapping his arms about himself, he cast around for something to occupy his mind, to distract it from his nerves and the empty-feeling apartment. He didn't want to read, the silence was too oppressive for that, his mind too active with terrifying what-if's, and he was rather burned out on television, especially since he was unaccustomed to watching it in the first place.

Finally a soft gurgling caught his attention, and he followed the sound into the kitchen where he noticed the sink was draining way to slowly…and loudly, for his preference. And so it was that Vincent found something to occupy his mind and body. Electing to save his shirt the damage, he shrugged out of it, and draped it over a dining room chair. Next he wandered around, checking closets and drawers until he found an odd assortment of tools that he took back with him to the sink where he lay down and got to work.

- Elsewhere in Midgar -

His fingers drummed against the polished surface of his desk as he switched lines to take the incoming call- he had been waiting for this one. "What news?" he asked vaguely, lips twitching into a pained smile at the other's reaction to his abruptness.

"Sheesh, do ya have to be so straightforward all the time? You'll get wrinkles if you keep goin' like that, man."

"Fair."

The man on the other end of the line sighed. "Fine, fine. Valentine's still shacked up in there –literally-" he paused to snicker, and the other interrupted to prompt him yet again to pass on the relevant information."

"Fair."

In something of a whine, Zack answered, "Come ooon, at least acknowledge the genius of that pun." When the other only huffed softly, clearly impatient, the dark-haired man just shook his head and continued. "And Scarlet took a rather lengthy trip out of her office yesterday," he offered tantalizingly.

The blond man gave another sigh and rested his forehead in his free hand. "I swear, if you turn this into a comment on her digestive health, I-"

"Geez, calm down!" Zack laughed, holding up his own free hand in supplication. "I was just gonna say –and bear with me here- that she went way farther than the john."

The blond man's eye twitched, and he opened his mouth to verbally lash the younger man, but was struck dumb by the next hurriedly uttered words.

"I tailed her to the upper plate. Willing to bet I don't have to tell you who she was meeting with."

"Rhapsodos."

"Good boy," Zack crooned over the line, pleased with himself for managing to gather what information he had.

"She should have included me in that," the blond mused. "Unless our suspicions were correct?"

"Oh, I'd say they are, sir. I would definitely say that they are." Zack pushed away from the wall with a soft grunt. "Hey, listen- Highwind's on the move," he said quietly. "Dunno where the hell he thinks he's goin', but it's my job to find out, right? When I'm somewhere I can't be overheard, I'll fill you in on that little meeting, and I'll get back to you on Highwind if it's anything good."

"I don't think our respective definitions of 'good' exactly mesh, Fair," the blond warned, hand back on the desk and fingers drumming again. This was all going somewhere, and much more quickly than he'd anticipated. If he could only figure out where it was going, and when it would come together…

Zack just chuckled. "Noted. I'll save the juicy stuff for somebody who cares." With that, he ended the call as abruptly as his companion had started it and proceeded to follow Cid to the little Wutainese restaurant. And, after purchasing his own meal to go, also proceeded to follow him back at a leisurely pace.

He found the place quite easily, and it really wasn't very far away. That was good, because he had decided to go on foot rather than bother with a cab. Maybe he would take one on the way back to keep the food warm. All the way to the restaurant, he'd felt eyes on him, and they were on him again as he waited inside it. He reminded himself that it was a necessity that Scarlet think he was being followed, and that those watching him were on his side…whichever side that was.

As he stopped in the short line of people picking up their orders, he caught the eye of Zack Fair, who winked knowingly at him. Cid was a bit surprised at that, but he thought no more of it. The man at the counter promised that Cid's order would be the next up, so the blond waited patiently and toyed with the idea of getting a cab on what was left of the money. In the Midgar traffic, though, walking would probably be faster. The food was at the counter within two minutes, according to the clock on the wall, and Cid was concerned about the accuracy –and quality- of their meals, but a quick glance at each reminded him that he hadn't even bothered to ask what Vincent had ordered for either of them. He set back toward his apartment at a brisk pace, wondering if Zack would follow him or if their meeting had been a coincidence. He seriously doubted the latter, and knew that if Zack knew where Cid was, then so did Scarlet. That was an unnerving thought, and was enough to distract him from wondering about Vincent's so-called 'powerful enemy' who apparently planned to jump out of the shadows at Cid or something equally sinister.

He was chuckling by the time he got to his door, and opened it fully intending to announce his presence loudly. He noticed that Vincent didn't seem to be nearby, so he wandered into the kitchen instead, where he stopped to blink bemusedly at the shirtless man lying on his floor.

Vincent had heard Cid come into the apartment and with one last twist of the crescent wrench around the u-joint he scooted out from under the sink and peered anxiously up at the blond. "Did you run into any trouble? See anything suspicious?" He asked as he slid the crescent wrench back into the tool bag and began to slowly clean up his mess.

Eyebrow raised, Cid set the plates on the table and turned his head sideways. "Not 'til I got in here, no. What th'hell are ya doin' t'my sink, Valentine?" he asked, dropping to the floor as if to inspect Vincent's work. "Oh. Heh, thanks. Been meanin' t'unclog that, but things've been…well, pretty heavy lately, if not exactly busy." He grinned and ducked his head, placing a quick kiss on Vincent's lips before standing slowly and offering his hands to Vincent. "Don't worry about that. Just clean yerself up, an' I'll get the food set up b'fore it gets cold."

Reaching out and grabbing Cid's hands, he let Cid help him to his feet. Taking a moment to straighten his trousers, he looked down at the newly fixed sink and shrugged a shoulder in an attempt to appear nonchalant. He didn't think he was successful as his shrug was more of a twitch than an actual easy lift of the shoulder. "I needed something to occupy my mind and the annoying gurgle from the sink seemed like a good idea. I'll just be a moment." He didn't look at Cid while he talked, afraid that Cid would see how worried he had been and ducked around the blond as he made his way to the bathroom to wash his hands and arms.

Cid just blinked as Vincent headed past him, shaking his head. The man was probably the most confusing Cid had ever met, but that only made him more interesting. On the other hand, though, he seemed preoccupied now, as if he were still thinking about what he had been thinking about before Cid had left, which meant- had Vincent been worrying about him the whole time? Grinning, Cid nodded slowly and vowed never to mention to Vincent that had figured that out for himself.

Instead of following the other man as he normally would have, Cid finished putting away the things Vincent had removed from under the cabinet. He washed his hands when that was done and began pulling out plates, glasses, and utensils. Cid moved those to the living room because he knew Vincent wouldn't want to eat at the table, and then he came back for the to-go plates containing their food, also digging up the wine before carting that load to the coffee table. When he got there, he noticed that Vincent had also cleaned up the popcorn; he must have found the vacuum. Cid pushed the table a few more inches away from the couch and then sat on the floor between the two objects. Eating would be easier this way than it would have been had he tried to lean over from the couch.

Having had the foresight to shut the door behind him, Vincent took a moment to lean his forehead against the cool glass of the mirror over the sink after he washed his hands, not even noticing that his breathing had quickened. During the short time Cid had been gone, Vincent had only just barely managed to keep himself occupied enough to keep his mind off of Sephiroth's little "visit", but every bang, thump and footfall he had heard in the building around him had made him jump and once he had even managed to bang his head on the squirrely plumbing. What was wrong with him? He needed to relax. Cid was safe, his theory so far was proving to be a valid one so he just needed, to, relax. After a couple of deep, steadying breaths, he checked his appearance in the mirror and, finding it satisfactory, opened the door and rejoined Cid in the living room. The smell of Wutainese cooking was already filling the small apartment and until that moment he hadn't realized just how hungry he had gotten. The fact that Cid had taken a seat on the floor and had put the food on the low coffee table instead of the kitchen table didn't go unnoticed or unappreciated. Sitting down carefully, he gave Cid a small, grateful smile and said, "Smells good."

"It does," Cid agreed, gesturing to his right side, where Vincent's drink and plate were set out. "I don't actually know which one's mine, but I guessed it was this one," he said, pointing at the box sitting in front of him. "S'that right?" he asked, opening it so that Vincent would be able to see its contents when he came close enough. The meat inside it appeared to be chicken, and the smell was mild enough that Cid figured it was probably not for Vincent. "Oh, an' yer change is on th'table," he added. "Thanks again, fer dinner an' fer fixin' the sink."

"Yes, that would be yours," Vincent said taking a seat next to Cid after first picking up his wine glass and taking a sip. It was indeed a very good vintage. It wasn't perhaps the most ideal given the cuisine, a more bitter Wutaian beverage being more appropriate, but surprisingly it didn't taste too bad. "I thought you might like the gai-zhi chicken, given that you wished for something mild." He pulled the wu-xhong beef over in front of him, picked up a fork and gathered up a forkful. He looked back over at Cid and smiled a little stiffly –stiff considering he was still wound up tighter than a bed-spring- and said, "You're welcome, Cid." He placed the forkful into his mouth, chewing appreciatively. It was just as good as he remembered, the textures rich and the flavors authentic. He took a sip of the wine. No, not bad at all. Maybe he would be able to relax after all. His smile turned into a wry grin. "I'll be sure to send Mr. Deusericus my bill."