Look look look! It's almost on-schedule! 8D

~~ Back at the Shinra Tower ~~

Two days left, well one-and-a-half, really, until the end of ShinRa as they knew it. In a day and a half, a new king would take the throne. And the best part of this coup? No blood would be spilled, and it would be completely legal. That was the part that blew Reno away and simply re-affirmed to him his boss's genius. Valentine had amassed so much dirt on Shinra that there was absolutely no way the man's two-bit hack of a lawyer could get him clean. It was as if Vincent had been digging and collecting intelligence on the Shinra since day one when Rufus had had him sign his soul away on the dotted line, which of course he probably had. And then there were the few nice finishing touches that Reno, himself, had found. Those little discoveries had been what cemented his place in Vincent's ranks. That and unflinching loyalty… and working his skinny ass off. But to know that Vincent didn't question him and trusted him as completely as a man in Vincent's position could trust, had made it all worth it.

This was what Reno was thinking as he disassembled his new creation, what he called an EMR –because he didn't particularly enjoy using guns, preferring a more "hands on" approach- as he sat at a table in The Squat –so named because he kept saying he was going to 'cop a squat' in the lounge so often that everyone finally gave up and just called the lounge 'The Squat'. But there was something that he just couldn't figure out though as he switched his LED penlight to his mouth in order to free his hand to reach a pair of long, delicate forceps down into the tube of the EMR. During their little bang session about taking Shinra down, Vincent had been extremely vague with his instructions, and it wasn't until after that session that Vincent had sought them out one-on-one with more specific assignments.

Why had he done that when before they had all been included? They worked together as a more cohesive and lethal unit when they were all informed of the plan. So why the secrecy all of a sudden? It was almost as if Vincent didn't trust them, which just didn't make any sense to Reno, especially when Vincent had told them otherwise! Hell, he only knew this because he had gotten Rude to admit to Vincent having come to see him, but as far as his partner's "job", the man had stayed infuriatingly silent. His own job was simple: push a button when Vincent gave him the signal. That button would then anonymously send a zipped file of previously encoded and encrypted data to every newspaper in Midgar. It was Vincent's "insurance policy" against immediate retribution from Shinra, and once the press got wind of it, Rufus wouldn't even be able to take a shit without it being on the 6:00 news.

Still, considering his curious nature, it drove him nuts to know what the others had to do but have that curiosity denied. Repeated attempts to talk to Rude were like talking to a shy rock. He didn't dare open his cake-hole around Tseng, as the broody bastard told Vincent everything, and if he was going to have Vincent find out that he was pokin' his nose where it didn't belong he would prefer it came from his own mouth. And Verdot…? He shuddered. He didn't care to have his EMR shoved up his ass, spank you very much. The guy was about as cuddly as a tonberry and had the same affinity/obsession for sharp objects. Creepy little bastards… creepy big bastard…

"I don't like it," said the rock to the tonberry. They both knew better than to interrupt him when he was working on one of his toys.

"No one said you had to like it," said the tonberry back to the rock. Reno snickered. It was like the beginning of a bad joke, but he kept his ears wide open.

"He's changed, distracted, and it's putting us all in danger. It's putting the business in danger," Rude growled.

"Vincent doesn't get distracted," Verdot replied without even looking up from the weapons magazine he was reading. "It's all part of the plan."

"You have an awful lot of faith in him," Rude said, narrowing his eyes behind his shades. "Some might even call it a blind faith, and that kind of faith only gets the pious killed."

"Perhaps," Verdot answered, idly flipping a glossy page.

"It doesn't concern you that he might be getting a little too close to this cop?" Rude's voice was little more than a sneer.

"He's not," Verdot said firmly. "He's too smart for that. He knows what that would do to the business."

"So you say," Rude replied smugly.

"Who cares?" Reno said, not looking up from the circuitry of his EMR. Verdot looked up at him and Rude raised an eyebrow. Reno didn't care what the other two thought. They hadn't seen Vincent's eyes that one day. He shivered. He would never forget those dead, red eyes that seemed to stare right through him. He never wanted to see Vincent's eyes look like that again. "So what if he screws the cop, or plays cards with him, or they do each other's nails? If it makes the boss happy, what's the problem?"

"You're young, kid. You can't possibly understand the ramifications of that kind of relationship in the business we're in," Verdot said with alarming patience. So alarming in fact that Reno looked up at the scarred man sharply.

"Yeah, I'm young, but I ain't stupid, yo." Reno said, voice slipping into his street dialect in his agitation. "Th' boss knows what he has t'do, he knows his responsibilities, and he's smarter than th' lot of us put together, man." He looked at his partner. "I think he's more than earned a little bit of blind faith from us, don't'cha think, partner?"

"Huh," Rude snorted, crossing his arms.

Verdot took a moment to eye Reno then said quietly, "The bastard knows. Or at least he suspects, and if Vincent is as smart as you're convinced he is, then he must realize how foolish any kind of continued association with the cop is. Or did you not see what Rufus did to him last time."

Reno paled and swallowed hard. "I saw. But I still think it's worth the risk if it makes 'im happy."

"Kid, you got some hard lessons comin' your way if you keep thinkin' shit like that," Verdot said dangerously.

"Leave him alone," Rude growled again, taking a threatening step toward Verdot.

Verdot turned his cold eyes on Rude. "Y'know, you've been acting kinda squirrely ever since Vincent made the decision to part ways."

Rude narrowed his eyes and opened to mouth to reply when a soft voice from the doorway said, "You would do well to watch what you say, Verdot."

Three heads turned in unison to see Tseng standing just inside the door, half of his unreadable face hidden by shadows and his arms crossed over his chest. "Regardless of your own personal feelings on Vincent's private affairs, the last thing he needs right now is the three of you at each others' throats."

The hostility coming off of Verdot made Reno twitch as the scarred man calmly closed his magazine and replaced it on the end table. He stood, straightened his jacket, and walked to the door without a word. Before Verdot could exit, Tseng stopped him with a murmured, "You said you'd die for him." He didn't look at Verdot and Verdot didn't look at Tseng, although the taller man practically vibrated with aggression. "I'm going to see that you remember you said that."

"You're welcome to try, Wutainese," Verdot hissed and crashed his shoulder against Tseng's on his way out.

Tseng absorbed the blow and still refrained from looking at Verdot, a little smile on his face. Next he looked up and over at Reno. "Can I see you a minute, Reno? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Reno glanced at Rude, who stared blankly back at him, and then nodded and stood. He approached Tseng. "Sure, what's it about?"

"Come with me, please. This needs to be said in private." He leveled a long stare at Rude, then turned and followed Reno out, shutting the door behind him.

Rude sat alone in the The Squat for several minutes before he took out his cell phone and dialed a number.

~~ Back in Cid's Apartment ~~

"—and then he says, 'What th'hell're you talkin' about, Highwind? My wife's the one with the mustache!' an' then 'is wife –he didn't notice she w's standin' there, o' course- she turns aroun' an' fixes 'im w'this look, an' 'is mouth drops open when 'e sees, an' then 'e- hell, Vincent, 'e fuckin' bolts 'cause 'e knows 'e's in for it!" Cid finished, laughing and tipping back a little to relax against the couch. "That w's prob'ly one of our finest moments," he said fondly, sighing a little. "Lazard never was much of a prankster, but I c'd talk 'im inta things now an' again."

Leaning forward again to sip more of his wine, Cid sighed. "Not that I do much o' that anymore. Hell, s'been years since I tried t'pull a joke on anybody. They go wrong too damned often when y're old enough t'notice." He turned his head in Vincent's direction. "Reckon you were always too much of a good boy t'try anything like that, huh?"

Vincent had finally relaxed and was sitting nestled well into the cushions of the old couch, silently sipping his wine as he listened to Cid's stories of his younger years. When Cid had mentioned Lazard, his ears had perked up and he had watched Cid intently as the man spoke, but when he realized that Cid was only recounting past –slightly embarrassing- escapades, he slowly relaxed and let his eyes droop a little. It was nice hearing Cid talk about himself so openly for once, and he was quite content to just sit and listen. Cid, despite the unfair and sadistic little twists life had thrown at him, had managed to live and find some good times. Oh, how different their early lives had been! Cid had been forced to grow up too fast in order to survive while he, Vincent, had lived an early life of privilege by comparison. His respect for Cid rose.

At Cid's question Vincent raised an eyebrow and regarded his slightly inebriated companion. "Largely, and if left to my own devices, then yes, I was. But Tseng…" he sighed and took another sip of wine. "Tseng always managed to land me in a world of trouble. I lost track of how many times I've had my backside tanned as a child." He couldn't hide the wistful little smile at the memories.

Cid's initial response, which he quickly bit back, was an indignant disapproval of the tanning of Vincent's backside. Instead, he replied, "Naw. That can't be right." Shaking his head, Cid elaborated: "Tseng ain't got a sense a humor. Y'must be thinkin' o' somebody else."

Vincent blinked slowly at Cid a moment. "Oh right, it was Tseng's brother, Fong. Yes, always getting me into trouble Fong was…" He replied with a nod.

"See?" Cid asked excitedly, tapping at Vincent's shoulder. "I knew it. S'all right, though. We all ferget things sometimes," he consoled, tapping turning into a soothing rubbing motion instead. "I won't tell 'im."

Vincent sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Really? he thought. "I think you're done tonight, Cid. Just water for you now." He was cute, though. There was a kind of boyish innocence that was endearing, which was probably why Vincent didn't bang his head into the wall.

Cid frowned. Vincent was making his exasperated face. That wasn't very nice. Neither was telling Cid what he could and couldn't have, in his own house of all places! But Vincent made up for both of those by being Vincent. Vincent was warm and sometimes even snuggly, and Cid figured that he should probably listen, because Vincent could also be a little bit scary. "'Kay," he sighed, and then quite nearly launched himself against the other man, resting his head on Vincent's shoulder. "Will y'tell me a story, then? A good one."

Cid's sudden near-assault had startled Vincent, making him raise the arm closest to Cid as though ward the man off, but as Cid appeared to snuggle down, he gradually relaxed. Re-crossing his legs the other way, he propped the arm that was behind Cid up against the back of the couch so that he could absently play with the man's soft hair with that hand. Taking a sip of wine he rested the hand holding the wine glass on his knee while he shuttered his eyes and sifted through old memories of the time when he and Tseng were young. "This is a story about two boys. One boy was quiet and shy, a bookworm who was happier studying than out doing things that other boys his age did. And the other boy was a little older, but was active and daring and was always getting into something, a bit of a known rascal, actually." He took another sip of his wine, then returned it to his knee. The other hand kept fingering Cid's hair. "One day, on their way home from school, the older boy said to the younger that he wanted to take the "long way" home from school through the market. So the younger agreed and as they wove through the market crowd the older boy disappeared for a moment only to reappear and slip something into the younger boy's pocket. He held his finger to his lips in a wordless gesture to keep quiet, which the younger agreed to do, but was horribly confused. Several moments later they were both grabbed they their ears and come to find out the older boy had stolen two rice cakes and had stuck them in the younger boy's pocket. Needless to say parents were informed."

"S'not a good story," Cid complained, closing his eyes as the fingers worked through his hair. "Stealin's bad. I did a lot o' that." Plus, Cid had a feeling that that day hadn't ended very well for those two boys. "W're they hungry?" he asked suddenly, turning his head up to Vincent and opening his eyes. "S'that why 'e did it?"

Vincent smiled wryly. "At the time, perhaps he was, and he just wanted to get himself and his friend a snack." He gave a gentle tug on Cid's hair. "If it makes you feel any better, the older boy tried to take all the blame. And it was a good story. They both learned a very valuable lesson that day."

"Mm," Cid said doubtfully by way of a reply, frowning again as Vincent tugged at his hair. He liked the petting better, so he snuggled a bit closer to Vincent, hoping that it would start again. He still didn't think it was a good story, but he didn't want to insult Vincent by saying so. Instead, he asked, "Did they die?"

Looking momentarily surprised, Vincent chuckled, making Cid bob a little with the movement. "No, but I'm sure the older boy was wishing he had. He was stuck on garbage duty helping one of the fisherman dispose of the guts and unusable parts of the fish he had cleaned and gutted from the catch that day for the next month. The younger boy didn't escape punishment either, but his involved hand copying some of his father's books for the same length of time. But both were quite miserable I can assure you. The younger boy swore his hand was cramped permanently and the older boy smelled like fish for months following his 'punishment'!" At that, he chuckled again.

"I don't like writin'," Cid commented, eyes drooping a little. "Y're not drunk," he said morosely, picking his head up again and fixing Vincent with an accusing stare. "Not s'posed'a let me drink s'much alone, y'know." That said, he was more than a little tempted to reach for the glass that was still on Vincent's knee. "Y'sure I hafta have only water?"

"Yes," Vincent laughed. "And you're not drinking alone. Besides one of us needs to have his wits about him." He didn't say, however, that the reason he had held himself back was so he could defend Cid if Sephiroth chose that moment to do something, even though he strongly doubted that would happen. If Sephiroth hadn't hit Cid while Cid was alone when he went for food then the odds of him going for Cid now were negligible. "And if you kept going, Cid Highwind, you would not be a happy camper in the morning, and an ouchy Cid means a sad Vincent, so, only water," he said mock-sternly.

Quite frankly, Cid wasn't going to be a happy camper in the morning anyway. He doubted that a hangover would make things worse. In fact, it would probably help take his mind off the fact that Vincent was gone, but the other man was probably right, overall. He made a face at the last part, though. "I ain't that far gone, Valentine," he said, a scowl in his voice even though a smile was twitching into shape. "You c'n use big boy words. M'just all warm an' don't feel s'much like thinkin', y'know?" he informed him, sitting up straight again even though he craved the warmth of Vincent's body. "C'n I have a kiss if I promise?"

Vincent rolled his eyes. He couldn't help it. "Trading for kisses again, Highwind?" He said, but his voice was warm and lightly teasing. "Very well. And I'm sorry, for lapsing from my 'big boy' words. Too many times having to deal with Reno when too much fun with booze was had."

Cid shrugged, grinning. "Well, it worked out for me last time, didn't it? I like kissin' you," he said, moving closer to nuzzle at Vincent's ear hesitantly. He made no response to the rest except to snicker a little, far too concerned with being near Vincent to care about Reno stories, though he was sure there were some very good ones, given the kid's personality. "So?" he whispered. "That a fair trade, y'think?"

This time, just like damned near every time Cid got close to him, Vincent felt a little thrill shiver up his spine and down his limbs. He turned his head toward Cid so their cheeks rested more fully together. His breath hitched in his throat a little and something fluttered in his stomach and he only just managed to keep from spilling his wine. When Cid shifted against him again, he pulled back and blinked at him. "Cid, you're giving me a rug burn."

Cid frowned and pulled away. Perhaps he was a bit further gone than he'd claimed after all. "Uh. What?" he asked, confused and curious, and also more than a little put out that Vincent had managed to make him move so far away. "Oh," he said, finally catching on and bringing a hand up to his face sheepishly. "Yeah, it's, uh…it's been a couple days since I've bothered. I don't usually let it get outta control like this. Don't like havin' hair stickin' out ev'ry which way." Thinking for a moment, he continued, "Would y'like t'get rid of it for me? I'll be damned if I let ya leave with gettin' me another kiss, an' there ain't no sense in scratchin' ya up f'I c'n avoid it."

Vincent chuckled. "It's all right, Cid. A little pain lets you know you're alive, but I think I prefer you smooth." He ended in a whisper, reaching out and running the pads of his fingers over Cid's cheek, his red eyes searching blue and travelling to Cid's lips as he envisioned another kiss. His lips twitched. "To be honest, I've never had to shave, so I'm not sure exactly how to do it." He tsked as he took Cid's chin in between forefinger and thumb and turned it a little to the side. "But you are getting furry."

Cid poked Vincent's shoulder hard. "Lucky bastard. I can't get it t'work for me either way. Never grows a decent beard, but it won't go away either. An' y'll do fine. Y'got steady hands an' good eyes. 'Sides, y'can't mess up too bad. An' if y'do, y'll kiss it better, right?"

Vincent chuckled. "How about this," he said, getting up onto his knees and leaning forward to firmly kiss Cid's lips. When he pulled away he said, "I shall kiss you now, and ban any possibility of hurting you." He then held out his hand to Cid and said, "Lead on, Mr. Highwind, and explain to me how it is done."

Cid got them into the bathroom, which was still a little damp from his shower, as he'd absentmindedly closed the door upon exiting. He handed Vincent the razor from beside the sink and began rummaging around for the can of cream. With a triumphant, "Gotcha!" he handed that over as well and took his seat on the closed toilet. "Be real generous with that, y'hear? Whoever said less is more's a dumbass."

Vincent palmed the can of shaving cream, doing a remarkable job at hiding an impish grin. Positioning Cid in front of him, he hopped up to sit on the counter, shook the can, and expelled an extremely generous amount of cream into his hand – way more than was necessary to do the job. He then set the can down and divided the cream between both of his hands and began to apply it to Cid's cheeks, jaw, chin and neck. He hesitated just a moment before applying cream to Cid's nose and forehead, effectively making a mask of shaving cream. He finally lost his fight with the grin and actually burst out laughing at the look on Cid's face. Finally he managed to get himself under control enough to ask, "Was I generous enough, Cid?"

"Oh, I dunno. Reckon if I give ya a big ol' sloppy kiss while m'face is like this an' I end up w'some left, y'prob'ly were." Cid couldn't pretend to scowl anymore, so he grinned widely and asked, "Should we try that? Course then y'll hafta start all over again, an' we'll just hafta keep testin'." He let himself laugh a bit longer then sobered up. He'd have to keep a straight face if he wanted it to end well. "Just don't go tryin'a shave m'nose hairs w'that thing," he warned solemnly.

Still chuckling, Vincent picked up the razor. "Oh I wouldn't worry about that, Cid. They haven't gotten long enough to warrant a good shave yet." The mechanics of shaving were not that difficult to figure out: go against the grain of the hair for a closer shave, and he was a quick learner. Very soon he was completely absorbed in his task. He began with Cid's neck, taking a careful swipe with the razor then shaking it off in the water he had put into the stopped sink next to him. When he got to the underside of the Cid's jaw, it took him a moment of craning his neck, more than once puffing his hair out of his face; before he figured out Cid was quite capable of tilting his head to accommodate him. Having figured that out, Vincent straightened his aching back and began tilting Cid's head to the angle he required. After the man's neck was done, he huffed. "This is rather tedious. I don't see how you can tolerate to do this every day."

"I usually don't let it get this bad. Not s'much a problem when I keep up with it," he said, moving as little as possible. His eyes followed every movement of Vincent's face. Really, this endeavor had been worth it just to watch Vincent's expressions. Cid figured the screwed up look and the one that showed Vincent's tongue between his teeth both represented deep concentration. The swipe of the razor against his skin felt nice, and when it pulled away the stiff, scratchy hairs, he felt clean. Vincent moved on to his chin, and Cid stilled again, noticing that he'd begun to fidget.

"You know," Vincent said as he worked on Cid's jaw after finishing the cop's chin, "I don't think I have ever felt your skin this soft or smooth. I love it." He leaned back to inspect his work before moving on to the other side. "And it makes you look younger. Less worn."

Cid huffed. "Still don't look my age, though, do I? Don't think I ever have." His heart had pounded for the few seconds he had let himself believe Vincent was going to say he loved him. Oh well; this was close enough, and he was not going to complain about it. He did, however, waggle his eyebrows and ask, "So I'm sexy like this?"

"Very much so," Vincent affirmed without hesitation. "In fact," he murmured. "I think I would very much like for you to kiss me, Mr. Highwind."

Cid chuckled. "Seein' as y'got a razor in yer hand, I reckon I ain't got much'f a choice, do I?" As far as he could tell, Vincent was mostly finished with him, so Cid stood, bringing their mouths together as he did. His hands went automatically to Vincent's waist and stayed there until he pulled away, squeezing lightly in appreciation. "An' after I wash all o' this off m'face, I'mma do it again," he promised, "so don't go nowhere."

Vincent had sighed into Cid's kiss, body becoming loose and relaxed as he set the razor down on the counter. "I'm not going anywhere." He rumbled as he leaned back against the mirror, drowsy-eyed and grinning, very much looking forward to that promised kiss as Cid bent over the sink to wash off the shaving cream. He let his eyes roam over Cid's fine strong back and the muscles that rippled just under the skin. He bit his lip as he imagined digging his nails into it. He gave no thought to where those images came from, only that they were, and that was enough.

When all the cream was rinsed away, Cid walked around and returned to where he had been standing in front of Vincent. "Got it all?" he asked, staying teasingly out of reach while he awaited the answer.

Vincent arched a brow as he stared at Cid. Finally he simply nodded.

One of Cid's brows arched in return, though not nearly so elegantly, he was sure. "Y'd better hope so," was all he said before fulfilling his promise.

Vincent moaned softly as Cid's mouth slowly caressed his own, and when they broke apart, he rested his forehead against Cid's and goaded roughly, "Is that the best you can do?"

"You know it ain't," Cid answered, dragging Vincent's body to the edge of the counter as he kissed him again, this time allowing his teeth to graze Vincent's lips before slipping his tongue into Vincent's mouth. "But I think we'd best get somewhere more comf'table b'fore I show ya what else I c'n do, huh?"

Wrapping his arms around Cid's neck, Vincent returned the cop's kiss hungrily. "And where would you have in mind?" he asked a little absently as he pulled back, studying Cid's wet, swollen lips. He licked his own as he ran his thumb over them. Unconsciously, he reached down in between his legs and rubbed his stiffening cock through the thin material of his borrowed pants. He was fascinated by Cid's lips, and he leaned forward to crush them and his own together again, groping for Cid's big hand as he did so and bringing it down to replace his own over his groin. He moaned softly as he rested his hands on Cid hips. Past and possible future melted away in favor of the present, and he couldn't complain at all.

Cid kissed Vincent with equal fervor, and his eyes wandered to where Vincent was touching himself through his pants. A shudder ran through Cid at the prospect of replacing that hand with his own- and then Vincent was doing it for him, pressing into his palm and urging his fingers to feel what lay beneath the barrier of cloth. He groaned. "Y'keep this up an' I ain't gonna remember." They needed to move before things got too heated, so he placed both hands on Vincent's waist and tugged him off the counter, making sure his feet hit the ground gently. A quick look up and down the other man's body led Cid to decide the shirt Vincent had put on earlier, could go. "This's just gonna be a problem later," he muttered as he pulled it over Vincent's head and not even bothering with the buttons. The sight of the newly bared skin had him shuddering again and wanting to touch it, kiss it, mark it, and show Vincent how much pleasure could come from just that. His hands reached out without his permission and touched anyway, sliding over scarred sides and pulling Vincent forward to bring their lips together again. One hand found the waistband of the pants and gripped it as Cid pulled his mouth away from Vincent's and brought it to his ear instead. "That better?" he whispered.

"Uh-huh," Vincent said breathily as he leaned into Cid's touch, enjoying perhaps too much the feel of those roughened hands over his marred skin. He shivered and his nipples pebbled. He turned his head and brought it back to suck on Cid's earlobe a moment before he groaned softly as he took Cid's hand in his own and slid it over the waistband and down to rest on his hard, bare flesh. He groaned louder and pushed his hips into the contact. He gasped, taking Cid's other hand and sliding down under his pants to rest on a buttock where the man's hand squeezed roughly. Vincent gave a soft cry, his eyelids fluttering as he sealed their lips together again.

He wanted to touch, and very badly, but Cid also knew that if they stayed here and touched each other this way, he would regret letting this opportunity pass. "That's it," he breathed. "That's just it." Cid pulled Vincent roughly against him as he slid his hand out of the front of the pants. It reached around to join the other one, taking its place below the waistband and squeezing the firm flesh it found. Their erections rubbed together, and even through layers of clothing, the feeling was enough to make Cid groan. His hands moved back to Vincent's waist and turned him around, pressing his crotch up against Vincent's backside immediately after that.

Resting his chin on Vincent's shoulder, Cid said, his voice rough and somewhat strained, "M'takin' ya t'bed, Vincent." He began to slowly lick up Vincent's neck, grinning when the other man shuddered in his arms. "M'doin' it right, like I should'a done th' first time." He gave a brief, light nip, his hands coming up to rest flat against Vincent's chest. "Gonna do right by ya, Vincent."