Warnings: Some angst, that's about it. Zack doesn't even swear much.

Chapter 6 : It Don't Come Easy

In the other truck, Vincent kept a wary eye on the medical personnel. His time with Hojo had taught him not to trust people in white lab coats. It would have been so much easier to stay in his coffin where he had been safe and the world had been safe from him, but it didn't seem like any of the medical staff would bother him. Only one was even looking at him. It had been so long since he'd been with humans that he couldn't read her expression. It was definitely hungry though. If she approached, he would be hard-pressed not to snarl at the woman.

In the end it wasn't the medic that approached him, but the young lady who'd planted the explosives in the tunnel. She wore a form of loose army pants combined with layered tank-tops. Her fingerless gloves had large studs across the knuckles. Her hair was loosely tied back. There was a light coating of dried blood and gore on parts of her. She was obviously more aggressive than she looked.

He prepared himself for intrusive questions that he wouldn't answer.

"The gun you used in the mansion, it's pretty old isn't it?"

He blinked. That wasn't the question he was expecting, "It is familiar."

"When we get back to base, I'll take you to the armoury. We'll see if there's any ammo you can use in it, and you can go through the weapons we've recovered and see if there's any that you'd like."

He nodded in acquiescence. It was a logical suggestion. She didn't go away however, so he waited for whatever else she would ask.

"Your boots and that gauntlet..." he braced himself, "Do they mean you know hand-to-hand combat?" Again, that wasn't the question he'd been expecting. She continued, "I've met a couple Turks, they're pretty good at unarmed, although one fights like a drunken monkey."

"I've been trained," he responded cautiously.

"Then could you spar with me? Nobody in camp can give me a decent fight except for maybe the SOLDIERs and they're always busy. Plus, even when they have the time, they always think that grappling is a synonym for groping."

He considered what she'd said. He could spar with her; it would be a good opportunity to refresh skills left unused for too long. However, he could damage her quite badly. There was also her assumption that he wouldn't 'grope' her. Why would she assume that? It was true, of course, too many memories of Lucrecia... I'm so sorry... but why would she assume that he wouldn't paw at her? He was male, she was female. He'd been in a coffin for years, and she was very attractive.

Perhaps she was innocent? He looked at her more closely, peering into her eyes from behind his fringe of hair. She allowed him to do it, too. She didn't flinch from his rare-coloured eyes as most did. She didn't fidget or try to hide. She merely waited until he'd made whatever decision he was going to make.

"I'm stronger than I look," he warned.

"So am I," she responded with a smile. "And it takes a lot to hurt me."

From her tone she knew what her limits were, and she was willing to accept the risks. "Very well. I will spar with you tomorrow."

She held out her hand, "Tifa Lockhart, formerly of Nibelheim," she introduced herself.

"Vincent Valentine, the same," he took her hand, squeezing it gently, trying to gauge the strength required to be just firm enough.

"Vincent? Or Vince? Vinny?"

"Vincent," he said firmly. She nodded acceptance.

"The mess will still be running when we get back to camp. We can swing by there before hitting the armoury and then we'll find you a place to rack out." She noticed his puzzled blink, "To sleep. The soldiers call their cots 'racks', so to sleep is to 'hit the rack' or to 'rack out'."

"Understood," he nodded, "However, I don't need to sleep."

"Thirty years is enough?" Her lips quirked oddly as she asked the question, and there was a look to her eyes that Vincent didn't understand. "You still eat?"

"It's not necessary," he replied. From the corner of his eye he could see the medical team's attention shift to him.

"It may not be necessary, but it can taste good. Still," she mused, leaning her head back, "if you haven't eaten much for nearly thirty years, you should maybe start slow—a broth-type soup rather than a steak. We'll see what the mess has then you can decide whether or not you want to try it."

"That sounds logical."

"Good, good," she closed her eyes. "Now, unlike some people, I do need sleep. Unless you have any questions," she opened one eye to ask. When he shook his head, she closed her eyes and settled herself more comfortably.

He didn't know if she was actually sleeping; her heartbeat stayed even, although her breathing deepened, but he had nothing really to compare it to. He breathed when he wanted to talk. The medical staff were talking almost non-stop so they followed no regular pattern.

Still, not talking was better than talking as most of their voices struck him as loud and grating. He could ignore the low-voiced discussions of the medics, the few soldiers in the truck were dozing as was Tifa. The dark-haired swordsman, who had awoken him from his rest, seemed to be an extreme example.

At least he wasn't in the same transport as Commander Fair. He wasn't if sure his ears could've survived another of the warrior's endless verbal assaults.

Sephiroth ignored the covert looks of the soldiers in the truck with him. He continued to pet Cloud's hair and arm, although he avoided the back area, not wanting to trigger Cloud's arousal without having the privacy to bring him to completion. He doubted Cloud would appreciate having his orgasm made the subject of locker room gossip.

He breathed Zack's scent in deep because it was there and smelled so familiar and beloved, even with the harsh mako overtone. His office used to be filled with his scent as his SiC lounged in one of the uncomfortable guest chairs to give reports, ask questions or hide from his paperwork. The General hadn't realized how pervasive it had been until it was gone. Now it was back and he wasn't alone anymore.

There was Genesis, of course, returned from the dead, cured and mostly sane, but experience had proven that the two experiments interacted much better over the telephone than they did in person. So the red-haired general led the forces on the Eastern Continent while Sephiroth did the same in the west. He would have to remember to warn Zack that Rhapsodis was an ally once again.

His PHS rang, its harsh sound breaking into his idle contemplations. "Sephiroth," he answered it. He never felt the need to say anything more.

"Lieutenant Hinz here, General," as if Sephiroth wouldn't recognize the voice of his aide, "Mr. Tuesti just contacted the base commander to inform him that they would be stopping here before going to Midgar."

It was hardly unexpected news. The Vice-President had informed them of the possibility when it had originally came up in the negotiations nearly three months ago. It was bad timing however, since he wanted to spend time with his returned friends, help them reacclimatize to the outside. Still, there was no reason for his keeper-spy to sound outraged.

"He also said they would be pleased to share a meal with you." Ah, Sephiroth thought. Here was the source of the outrage.

"I invited them," he confirmed.

"General Sephiroth, we have discussed this. By agreeing to see the delegates from Wutai prior to the signing of the treaty, especially by dining with them, you undercut the authority of President Shinra. Not just to Wutai but to the rest of the world."

"We didn't discuss it. If I remember you told me that Rufus didn't like the idea and assumed that was all it would take to make me agree not to meet with them. However, Mr. Tuesti presented much more compelling arguments, such as 'they won't sign the treaty without it'," he kept his voice soft, not wanting to disturb the men sleeping all over him. Besides, he didn't have to shout, the Wutai wouldn't sign the treaty without meeting with him and Hinz knew it. Sephiroth knew he knew it and the unhappy, exasperated sigh that his aide released admitted it.

"Very well, then I'll arrange a small meal—"

"The kitchen already has my orders. It will be a full Wutaian repast as befits their status."

"But, sir that accords them far too much respect," Hinz argued.

"They earned my respect during the War," he said flatly, "Their assistance will greatly aid our fight against Hojo and Deepground. A meeting with proper refreshments is a small thing, compared to that." Hinz started to spit out another protest, "It is done, Lieutenant. We will be arriving shortly. I will need a clean, dress uniform. I will also need a large meal, enough for—" he remembered Cloud's wings and upped his estimate, "three SOLDIERs First Class delivered to my room." He proceeded to give his increasingly flustered and incoherent Aide-slash-babysitter a series of orders that had the man sputtering in outrage.

"Do you realize, General, what kind of scandal that will generate?" the lieutenant asked, scornfully. "What do you think people will say when they hear of it?" Meaning what the ShinRa board would say. Sephiroth knew exactly to whom the officer reported.

"Realize that I don't care, Lieutenant Hinz, and life will be much simpler for you. Have it done or I will be most displeased." He didn't bother listening to anymore but snapped his phone shut and put it away.

"So we're going to be bunking together," Zack asked, "Like in Nibelheim?"

Sephiroth hadn't even realized the dark-haired SOLDIER was awake. "If you don't mind."

"Nah," Zack replied. He was secretly relieved that they would be nest—, sleeping together. "Spent so long in a test-tube, the human contact will be good—"

"For all of us," the General murmured agreement.

"But don't you want some alone time with Cloud? I mean, I can always stretch out someplace else. It took a lot for Zack to make the offer but these were his friends, they'd just become lovers before being separated. It was only right to offer them privacy.

"I believe we had this discussion once in Nibelheim," Sephiroth cut him off. "Neither Cloud nor myself would be able to sleep properly without you close. Besides, it is probably far too early for either of you to be separated from each other. It has been only the two of you for a long time; that habit can't be changed overnight."

"But—"

"I don't want to be separated from either of you." It was the same tone he'd used to order Zack to call Aerith. The conversation was over. Zack let out what he hoped was a silent sigh of relief. Just because he'd felt he had to offer, didn't mean that he'd actually wanted to do it.

"When we get to base, you and Cloud will need to go to the field hospital. We need to have a baseline to use if either of you gets injured or sick. We need to know the level of Jenova cells in your system so we know how vulnerable you are to her call." He could feel Zack tensing. "It won't be intrusive. They've altered some Libra materia into what they call 'Sense'. It allows them to detect these things without taking samples. They'll check for damage to your bones and your organs. They've managed to find ways to reverse some of the things Hojo liked to inflict on his... specimens."

"Cloud won't lose his wings?" Cloud actually liked his wings. Well why wouldn't he? Zack thought, he had nice, white, feathered ones.

"No," the Silver General reassured his friend, "Everything we know says those changes are irreversible. Zack, I need to tell you—" The truck jerked to a stop and the troops began to organize themselves, standing up, moving around and making lots of noise, and the moment for even semi-private talk was done.

Kunsel and Barret hadn't yet returned from the reactor when Sephiroth climbed out of the transport, but radio communications said they were in good shape and moving steadily. They'd already had a copter pick up the worst of their wounded and take them to Cosmo Canyon which had a more extensive treatment facility. There hadn't been many seriously injured because there hadn't been as many DGS forces protecting the pass as Sephiroth had been led to believe from their source within Hojo's operation.

However, since there was no one person responsible for organizing their defensive strategy it was hardly surprising that it wasn't logical.

Hojo wouldn't be bothered as he considered most things military to be idiotic and brutish, unless they could be experimented on—then he was interested. Jenova's known purpose was the destruction of Gaia, not controlling it or defending the territory they did have, The Tsviets apparently obeyed only the one called Weiss. However, their source said that nobody but the elite warriors or Hojo ever got to see the mysterious leader.

They'd conquered half the world, stripped it of people and resources and were now abandoning it like yesterday's breakfast. Either it had served their purpose, they were completely stupid or they were planning something else. There wasn't enough information for the allied forces to decide which it was.

No matter what he thought of their leaders, Sephiroth was grateful for Deepground's carelessness.

They had recovered a great many of the weapons and supplies used by the DGS and they had proven to be very interesting. Obviously someone in Hojo's forces thought the military useful as they'd developed powerful variants to the power systems of both weapons and body armour. Scarlet's techs loved to reverse-engineer them and ShinRa was gradually arming their forces with the improved equipment.

They'd do the same with the research notes. Send them to the Science Department, now headed by someone not associated with Hojo in anyway. They'd examine them for any possible way to reverse the effects of the SOLDIER First Class injections, for ways to defeat the Tsviets, for hints on what Jenova had planned in order to bring about her objective.

First priority, however, would be cataloguing the materia. ShinRa no longer made mako stones or practiced materia fusion, and naturally occurring materia had always been rare, so every bit of it was inventoried and handed-out with great pomposity and lots of paperwork. The largest diamond in the world wouldn't be fussed over or protected as much as the smallest piece of materia was in this post-Collapse world.

Sephiroth was only glad that the bulk of that work would fall on someone else. Yes, he'd have to read and sign the reports, and respond to countless messages from ShinRa HQ in Neo-Midgar, but he wouldn't be the one cleaning the gore off the gun sights.

Of course, he had his own agenda for the rest of the day and very little of it concerned taking care of his companions. 'Why couldn't Tuesti be travelling tomorrow?' he wondered in a burst of uncharacteristic petulance. He didn't want to spend hours talking about nothing over tea and delicate foods. He wanted to be with Zack and Cloud in the Field Hospital, learning everything he could about what had happened to the pair and what they could do to return the corporal to cogency.

On the other hand, the treaty with the Wutai meant hastening the moment he finally caught up with Hojo and could kill him. The forces currently stationed in Wutai were experienced, battle-hardened troops. If they could be withdrawn from Wutai and used to invade the Northern Continent it would significantly increase their chances of success, so dinner with the Vice-President and the Wutaian representatives would have to take precedence over his personal desires.

Damn it.

Despite his decision on what was immediately important, duty warred with desire when an orderly reached for the blond to set him on a waiting stretcher. The General knew he had to let go of Cloud but he couldn't. Instead he growled and turned his body as if to guard his lover from a threat.

"General, I can take him," Zack offered, using his rank in this very public setting, protecting Sephiroth's dignity as he had always done. Not that there was much dignity in having the General cuddle and protect the slim, young man currently clinging like an extra limb to his side. Zack could hear the whispers spreading. "I won't let anything happen to him, I promise."

Sephiroth swallowed the temptation to snarl at his SiC. "It'll be okay," Zack reassured him.

A nod, jerky and quick, and then the General passed his young lover over. It was unsettling but, as much as Cloud had clung to him in his unconscious state, it seemed natural to see him curled up under the chin of the tanned SOLDIER; although the lack of wings seemed odd. He hadn't brought them out even though he was awake, or as awake as he ever got.

Zack had theorized that Cloud didn't want to bring them out in such a large crowd of strangers. It would fit what Sephiroth remembered of his young lover.

He watched them until they turned a corner, out of sight but still in mind. His friends, alive but not really well. He gave himself a mental shake. He had other duties to attend to. "Mr. Valentine, do you need an escort?" he forced himself to ask.

"It's okay, General. I'll show him around," Tifa responded.

"Very well," he turned to the group that had finished disembarking, "You did good work today. Thank you." With that short acknowledgement the General turned and made his way to his tent, already counting the minutes until he would see his friends again.

AN: Updates might get slower as we get closer to the holidays. Decorating and wrapping are sloooooooow worrrrrrrrrrrk. I'll try to update at least once a week though as it's going much smoother now that Vincent is no longer just standing in the corner, arms crossed, blinking at me.