Once again, thank you so much to everyone who read, reviewed, fav'd and alerted! And thanks to lirica for being the hundredth reviewer. :) The 'action' really starts next chapter. Haha... oh, poor Cloud. Enjoy chapter three, though! ;D

And ah...yes. Helga and Olga have a torrid, totally interesting story, but... eh, that's for another time.

Zack leant back with a sigh, resting his head on the back of the couch. It had been a long, bitter conversation, but they had come to an agreement, finally. Genesis had been for a more drastic, flashy course of action immediately, while Angeal had been slightly reluctant to follow through with Genesis's plans, giving them one of his famous 'honor' speeches. They all knew that Angeal was itching to do something completely awful, but they also knew that he wanted to keep doing something like that as a last resort. But they were in a tough situation, and tough situations called for tough solutions; maybe they would end up doing something drastic in the very near future.

That blond upstairs was in for some rough treatment. He didn't care. It was his job to protect them; he was more than ready and willing to do whatever it took. They all wanted to do this—to finally experience a little bit of satisfaction after all those years of pain.

"Ready?" he asked, patting his thighs and standing up. There had been a minute or two of silence after they had finished their plans.

Zack took Angeal's hand and tugged—the older man stood and grunted, "Easy, Pup." He didn't look all that annoyed, though, and his eyes glinted with mischief.

Genesis had started trying to braid Sephiroth's hair halfway through their debate, as a distraction of some sort, and he pulled gently on the silver mass in his hands to get the ex-General to follow them.

"So… we're gonna freak him out a little, first?"

Sephiroth smirked at Zack, batting Genesis's hands away and running his fingers through the massive braid, returning his hair to its normal state. "That is the plan. The real fun starts tomorrow."

The frantic buzzing in his pocket jolted Cloud from sleep. He fished his phone out with clumsy fingers and pressed a few buttons, holding it to his ear and groggily standing. He hadn't meant to fall asleep… but it had been a long ride up.

"…Hello?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Cloud!"

Cloud woke right on up.

"Aerith!" he said joyfully.

"Tell me everything about the new house! You left me out of the loop!"She sounded excited, and maybe a little bit pouty.

"Um," he began, smiling widely, "It's really nice. I'll send you pictures."

"How big?"

"Huge! I almost got lost earlier." His voice dropped to a whisper as he said, "But… it's sort of weird— I keep getting a weird feeling…like I'm…y'know." He chuckled nervously. "…Not alone in here."

Aerith was silent, and then she gave a musical little laugh. Cloud could picture her back in Midgar, tending to her flowers with a smile on her face, thinking he was crazy. She stopped giggling when he was silent. "You're serious?" she asked, sounding surprised. "Oh, Cloud—relax. I'm sure if I was all alone in a huge mansion I'd feel the same way."

Cloud pouted, turning and starting to unpack. He stuffed his underwear and socks into the top drawer, not saying anything.

Another giggle escaped the flower girl. "Cloud—"

"Don't 'Cloud' me," Cloud interrupted, pretending to be annoyed with her. He reached for an embarrassing pair of boxers he had gotten from Yuffie; there were the outlines of several naked women all over them. He smiled fondly at them and continued, "and I know it's not haunted or anything. It's just a creepy place, kind of."

"'Cloud?' That's in interesting name," Zack said at that fantastic SOLDIER volume, actually only a few inches away from the blond. He had been trying to eavesdrop on Cloud's conversation, mostly because he could. His fingers itched to hit, strike, do something, but he refrained. They were all going to enjoy this. As much as he wanted to hear that first loud crack of cartilage and bone as he smashed his fist into the other's face, he could wait. Cloud was lucky he had good patience, for a puppy.

"Mmm," Aerith hummed. "I'll bet."

Cloud giggled to himself, unable to help it. He was feeling giddy again—a whole mansion! Even Aerith seemed excited!

He reached for a pair of socks, only to touch the comforter. He blinked, tilted his head and looked around for them.

"Uh… hold on a sec," he muttered absently to Aerith, doing an about-face and scanning the ground.

After a few unsuccessful seconds, he spotted them on the dresser. Confused, he put them in their proper spot, inwardly chastising himself for having such a faulty memory.

"Okay," he said, returning to the conversation, "I'm back."

There was the rustling of flowers on the other end, and Aerith said, "You're unpacking, right? …I'll let you go."

His friend was a busy woman; Cloud said, understanding, "Okay. I'll talk to you later, Aer."

"'Kay." There was a click, and Cloud smiled with brief annoyance before putting his phone back in his pocket and continuing his unpacking.

The room gradually became eerily silent. Cloud heard the ticking from a grandfather clock somewhere. He thought it was entirely too quiet, and stuffed some jeans into a bottom drawer, crowing, "What you gonna do with all that junk? All that junk inside your trunk!" This mansion needed music! …Even music as bad as his!

He sank to his knees and placed his shoes in the area beneath the dresser. He made his voice unnaturally high and sang, "I'ma get get get get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump!"

Sephiroth stared at Cloud with a deadpan expression. Genesis's eyes showed disbelief and not a little bit of revulsion. Zack said, putting a hand on his hip, speaking over Cloud's singing voice, "…Well, we've got our proof he's a crazy fucker too."

"I drive these brothers crazy, I do it on the da—ily; they treat me really nicely, they buy me all these iiii—ces…" Cloud opened the door, haphazardly tossed his now-empty suitcase into the next room with a deafening bang and trotted back inside his bedroom, continuing one of his most hated songs all the while (he just deemed it appropriate for the occasion, whatever this occasion was, and sang it anyway).

"Karan, they be sharin', all their money got me wearin' fly—Sebastian?"

His little toy chocobo was no longer on his bed.

Cloud fell silent, instantly suspicious. He had never really believed in the 'weirder' aspects of existence, but were ghosts the cause of this? He felt ridiculous even thinking it, and felt so even more because he had jumped to the conclusion like a five year-old.

He was a little bit frightened, not that he'd admit it to anyone else.

Cloud crawled next to the bed and peered underneath it; Sebastian was beneath the mattress in a dusty heap. Cloud frowned, stuck his rump in the air so he could reach underneath and grab him, and he pulled the poor chocobo out. Cloud sat on the side of the bed and tried to brush the dust away. He supposed that the toy had just… fallen.

He sat cross-legged, hugged Sebastian to his chest and tried to think. The silence was a thick, tangible thing now that dragged him down, making him want to hide under a blanket or turn all the lights on and blare music.

A cold, powerful shiver wracked his tiny frame suddenly. It was the feeling you got when someone unexpectedly wrapped their fingers around the back of your neck.

Cloud shook hard and involuntarily let out a guttural, "Ggghh…aah—agh!" He scooted forward and shivered again, shutting his eyes. His neck had always been a really sensitive spot for him, as his stupid, annoying ex-boyfriend Reno had found out.

Deserting Sebastian, Cloud quickly hobbled out of the room, rubbing his shoulder and giving a last little tremble.

Angeal paused, watching the shaken blond teeter out of the room and down the hallway. He placed his raised hand down at his side and said to the others, "He is… extremely sensitive." He was actually surprised he hadn't lost his composure and squeezed that slender throat—how many times had he imagined doing that to Hojo? He had been poised to kill, but he had somehow resisted. He hoped that that hadn't been a grave mistake.

His eyebrows drew together, and he shot a quick glance at Zack. Mama Bear, the Puppy often called him, teasingly. He was supposed to protect his three beautiful lovers, and he vowed that he'd do so. He had his honor and his morals, but if killing one boy, no matter how young, was what he'd have to do to protect them, he'd do it.

"No kidding," Zack said, a mean glint that no one really knew how to react to in his eyes. Zack was usually so innocent, even after all they had been through, and seeing that slightly manic, bloodthirsty look in his eyes in his eyes made them pause and maybe even feel a little bit sad. "That's probably good for us—it'll be easier for us to scare the shit outta him then, eh?"

Sephiroth sent him an unreadable look and swept out of the bedroom, Genesis on his heels. Waves of discontent and anger pulsed off of the two "drama queens," as Zack good-naturedly called them.

Cloud started down one of the massive staircases, sliding his hand across the smooth, polished wood of the banister. The carpet was pleasantly soft beneath his socked feet; Cloud had toed off his sneakers earlier.

He decided that his freaky episode in his new bedroom was sort of like those weird hot flashes you got in the middle of the summer that were, for some reason, freezing.

Or maybe, the chills had been brought on… by a ghost. (Why did his thoughts keep going back to ghosts? he briefly wondered.) Wasn't that supposed to happen—a ghost goes through you or something, and you got the chills?

Cloud wasn't able to spend any more time thinking about it. His right knee buckled about ten steps from the bottom, and he lurched forward. The movement was just like back in elementary school in Midgar, when he'd chop the back of his friends' knees while they were on the balance beam out on the playground, and they'd fall off, so he could get on. He let out a tremendous shriek that echoed in the huge room as he tumbled down the stairs, arms flying up to protect his face.

He rolled once, smacking the heel of his left foot against the railing. He came to a stop on the polished marble of the floor on his back, legs up and over his head.

He wasn't too injured. Cloud was just glad that no one had seen his embarrassing trip.

Cloud let out a low squeaking noise, checking out his poor, bruised body. He even cried a little; he'd admit it. There were two tiny tears that slipped out, but he wiped them away, took in a deep breath and was fine.

"Aww… I made him cry," Genesis cooed nastily, actually on all fours directly above Cloud.

Sephiroth looked slightly nervous for Genesis, not wanting the redhead to be so close to Hojo's successor. What if the blond had a needle on him, or something? He could plunge it into Genesis's stomach long before any of them could try to save him. The fear he felt for Genesis predictably made Sephiroth beyond angry, and he took two rapid steps forward, prepared to do something ridiculous, like rip an arm off of the stupid boy like he had done to that one Wutaian warrior—

But, Genesis had that gleam in his eyes again. No one doubted that if Cloud tried anything, he'd have a face full of fireball before he could blink. Sephiroth decided that Genesis could handle it, and he stood back, even though his instincts screamed at him to move and kill before Genesis could be harmed.

All Cloud did was giggle quietly as his stomach let out a loud rumble. He patted his tummy, stood up smoothly (Genesis was careful to stand too, not touching him) and hobbled to the kitchen. He was followed.

Zack waved his hands and stuck up the middle finger in front of Cloud's face; Cloud didn't flinch. Angeal and Sephiroth intensely studied the back of Cloud's head; Cloud didn't feel the heat of the stares. Genesis smirked, because even though he had been this close to the boy earlier, he hadn't had any idea.

Being invisible had its serious advantages.

This was going to be fun.

"He was so cute!"

There wasn't much to do in Nibelheim. That is, there wasn't much to do in Nibelheim except get drunk or fuck. Usually, the two activities came hand-in-hand.

Tifa Lockhart, however, wasn't really a drinker, and nor did she sleep around. This came to the dismay of many a man in Nibelheim who had his eye on the brunette, but she didn't really care. One day she'd find a guy who she'd just know was right. She'd have that whole love-at-first-sight thing.

But when she overheard two of her neighbors talking (they were practically all neighbors in Nibelheim), she perked up. Besides drinking and fucking, the only other thing to do was gossip.

"Who's cute?" She asked, smiling and coming into the conversation. They were in the middle of the main square, though no one else really paid them any attention.

The girl who had spoken before—Helga—turned to Tifa and said, "Hey, Tifa. I dunno his name. He's new, though!"

"New?" Since when did people move to Nibelheim?

"Yeah," the other female—Olga—chimed. "He came on a motorcycle, from Midgar! We could tell from the license plate." Olga lowered her voice and whispered, "He was hot in the way city boys are hot. All lean muscles and perfect skin…"

"But he was thinner," Helga said sagely. "Not very big, but I tell you Tifa—he worked it, good."

All three females shared a short, slightly perverted laugh.

"Gimme some more detail," Tifa said, nudging Olga.

"Blond hair," the girl answered. "Blue eyes, like you'd never believe!"

Oh, she was so in. That was her favorite combination in a man—everyone in Nibelheim was too old to have a hair color other than white or was a redhead. …Herself not included.

Helga giggled. "He's so cute! Oh—but he went to the mansion."

Tifa blinked. "The mansion? Eww, who would live there?"

"I heard he's that dead Hojo's nephew," Olga said cryptically. Neither of the other girls asked her how she had obtained this information.

"That's gotta suck," Tifa sighed. Hojo had been a creeper, all right; she had stopped by to give him cookies for Christmas once, and he had accepted them, speaking to her boobs, not her face. The butler gave her the creeps, too. He was a foreigner, if she recalled correctly.

Helga and Olga nodded. Tifa glanced up at the mountain, making out the very top of a chimney way off in the distance.

"Do you think he… needs help settling in?" the brunette asked, cracking a grin.

The girls laughed. "Go on, you," Helga encouraged, accent thick as she giggled, She lightly gave her a light slap on the upper arm.

Tifa did have her morals, but it wouldn't hurt to just look. She could offer to show him around town a bit. It was a creepy mansion; no one wanted to be cooped up in there for any amount of time by themselves.

Isn't that what neighbors were for?