Warnings: Talking, hinting, imagining and yearning but not much else
AN: There are some references made to events that took place in 'Making It Work'. It's not necessary to read that one (it's not a straight up prequel) but, if you're feeling a bit confused, that may be why.
Chapter 31 : I Want
"That went pretty smoothly," Tifa said, waving 'good-night' at Zack and Cloud. "Cloud was absolutely freaked at being given materia, wasn't he? It was kind of funny."
"He took it seriously which is good in someone we'll be fighting with," Vincent rebuked her gently, "I, for one, would rather not be burned by a badly aimed Fire attack."
*Tsk, tsk, my host, that's hardly a concern for us, but it does keep the feisty one by your side.* Vincent ignored the comment.
She smiled at him, unrepentant, "True."
"Commander Fair explained that they didn't teach regular troops how to use materia before they were captured."
"Also true," she agreed. Her smile wobbled, "You know he looks almost exactly the same as when he left Nibelheim. That's not right. It was nearly seven years ago yet, sometimes, he still looks like that kid."
"You loved him?" There was no emotion in his question. Putting emotion into the question would be too revealing. It would be hopeful. Hope was for the man without sin.
*Pfffft!*
"I thought I loved him but I think I just wanted to have his courage." She looked up at the stars, remembering. "He was only fourteen when he left. He's been through so much yet, when I look at him, it feels like I've aged and he hasn't—like he could be my younger brother."
*Hmm,* his guest mused gleefully, *If she thinks of him like a brother, it's unlikely that she wants to bed him. You might have a chance, my immortalis. Why not kiss her and find out?* Vincent ignored that too.
"If by that you mean that you look mature, confident and capable, then I would agree."
*That was a horrible complement, my host. I despair of you,* Chaos sneered. Vincent gritted his teeth.
Tifa looked at him; her cheeks dimpled happily, "Why thank you, Vincent. From you that's high praise indeed." Vincent was gratified when Chaos was stunned into silence. It wouldn't last long but he'd enjoy it while it did.
They reached a tent, exactly like its neighbours except for the number painted on the door. "This is your tent," she told the ex-Turk. "Don't worry you're not sharing it with anyone."
"Did they run away?" he deadpanned then wondered if she'd understand the joke.
She did. Her smile widened, "Your humour's exactly like the General's—dryer than the Corel Desert."
*You could kiss her now, my host, my own. Take those luscious lips in yours and finally forget that weakling female you mooned over for so long.* Vincent looked down into dark eyes and could almost admit to being tempted. She was so alive, so human—soft yet strong. He had to agree with his unwanted 'guest' on one thing: Tifa Lockhart would fight to the death to defend those she claimed as loved ones. He looked into dark eyes...
...and lost the moment.
Tifa looked away, over to the airfield where they could both hear machinery still busy repairing the landing strip. Her hands were clasped behind her. "Well, it'll be an early start and it's been a long day. I'll see you tomorrow, Vincent." She gave him one last, easy smile and walked away.
The gunman watched her retreat. Her body moved in an enticingly feminine motion, smooth and powerful. Her long hair swayed with every stride pulling his attention down her strong back to her bottom. Its movement was just hinted at in the army-style pants, but it was enough to hypnotise him. He wanted to touch it, touch her. He lifted a hand to call her back and dim moonlight glinted on brass. The gauntlet he wore as a weapon looked almost exactly liked Chaos' normal hand. He'd forgotten. He wasn't human. He was a beast or maybe an amalgam of beasts. He couldn't touch someone as pure and generous as the young fighter.
He couldn't touch her, but he could be close to her.
Unnoticed in the shadows, Vincent used his beasts' knowledge of the darkness to follow the small warrior. He took up position outside her tent.
*This isn't going to get us laid,* Chaos pouted. Vincent didn't care. Perched on the pole, he guarded his lady's rest. Seeing, but unseen in the busy camp, he waited for dawn and his thoughts drifted…
Zack didn't bother to look up from sorting the box of letters. He recognized the soft pad of bare feet entering the General's office. His friend was fresh from a shower and smelling clean and shiny. "Hey, Cloud," he said in greeting.
"Hey, Zack," the blond returned, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to him. They were both wearing thin, standard-issue sleep pants but, because of their mako-altered metabolisms, neither felt chilled. Actually, in Zack's case, it made him feel human because he'd chosen to take the shower and he'd chosen what to wear afterwards. No white-coated lab hag with orders and a schedule had been involved in the process.
The blond put a delicate finger on one of the piles. "You haven't started reading them yet?"
"Nah," he didn't look over, "sorting them by date. Should maybe start at the beginning, right?" Cloud didn't say anything just grabbed a handful of letters out of the box and began shifting through them.
"So why aren't you in the shower with Seph?" Zack asked absently. His attention was on the letters so he didn't notice as Cloud stiffened. "If I remember rightly, you both enjoyed that last time." It was only when his friend squirmed like a kid needing to go to the bathroom that Zack looked up from the task that had his heart pounding and his stomach churning in both anticipation and dread. Cloud was blushing and looking anguished. "What? What is it?" the dark-haired SOLDIER asked.
"He says we have to wait at least another twelve hours for my system to be settled before he'll—he'll, y'know, touch me."
"Fuck me. He's being a gentleman?" Zack laughed, "No wonder you look like a slum kid staring through a candy store window."
Cloud's blush deepened. "Fuck you too, Zack," he said without heat. The small-town mountain-boy didn't swear much but there was something about being around Zack that encouraged more 'colourful' language. "Asshole."
Zack chuckled as Cloud squirmed even more, but he decided to take pity on him, "He's doing the right thing, you know." Big blue eyes looked up hopefully. "You know how you told me you felt like you could taste things through your skin?" Cloud nodded. "Still feel that way?"
Again Cloud nodded, "It's not as bad though."
"Doesn't matter," Zack brushed that aside. "Sex, when done with someone you truly care about, is supposed to overwhelm your senses. If Sephiroth does it right, and I can't imagine him not, then, with your hyper-sensitivity, he could orgasm you right into a coma." He stopped, an evil grin lit his face, "I wonder if he's in the shower jacking off right now so that he can be all noble and shit when you're in bed together." Zack snickered thinking that all of old ShinRa's media machine had always downplayed the sexual side of their star fighter. Hojo had tried to drug it out of him. If only they could see him now…
Cloud, however, didn't see any humour in it. He had an image of Sephiroth naked in the shower, water running down that chiselled body, long fingers wrapped around his hard penis, head tipped back in ecstasy... His own penis twitched in response. He dropped his head on his arms. "Shit" he moaned softly, "this sucks."
"It'll pass faster than you think, Spike." Cloud didn't even raise his head he just gave his tormentor a hard hit to the arm, a silent command to shut up. Zack just laughed.
The SOLDIER had sorted all the letters into years so now he started to sort them by week. Aerith, being a smart girl, had put the date on the outside of the envelope. Soon he'd run out of ways to delay reading them. He looked at the rough hand-writing, so unlike his delicate Aerith but typical of kids with the patchy education common under the plate. He lifted it to his nose but smelled only paper dust.
"Should I start at the beginning or read the most recent ones first?" he asked nervously.
Cloud turned his head to look at the dark-haired SOLDIER. "I dunno. The beginning is logical, isn't it?"
"Yeah but... what if she thought I died or abandoned her or something. Those letters would be a bitch to read, don't you think?"
A small smile played around the blond's mouth, "Want me to read them to you. I promise to edit out all the weepy bits. Maybe we could find you a plushie to squeeze… for comfort." Zack was glad his darker skin hid his own blush. He'd hate for Cloud to know he was tempted. He twitched a glance at the blond. He knew. That smile, that glint in the eyes... Cloud knew.
"Asshole," Zack said.
Cloud sat up and grabbed a stack of letters to sort. "Pussy," he said, not looking at his friend.
"Perv," the First responded.
"Rodent."
Zack turned in shock, "What?"
Cloud didn't look at him too busy squinting at the scraggly, indecipherable date, "Y'know... the bat thing."
"Oh," the SOLDIER said, enlightened. They sorted in silence for a bit until Zack said "Bats aren't actually rod–"
"–aren't rodents," Cloud finished. "Yeah I know, but calling you a mammal isn't much of an insult."
They shuffled letters into order.
"Calling you a puppy just feels wrong," Zack complained.
"Good." Cloud responded firmly.
"Chocobo?"
"Bastard."
It was a companionable silence between them. So many times, in the lab, talking had been dangerous or impossible. They'd learned how to just be with each other; presence alone offering the support and companionship they couldn't express. Into this quiet they heard the water shutting off in the General's shower. Cloud knew Zack would be wondering if he should stay out here, in the office, despite Sephiroth's prohibition to intimacy.
"I'm supposed to tell you to come join us whenever you're finished out here," he said. "It's not like the General and I are going to be busy, after all." He couldn't keep all the disappointment out his voice.
The dark-haired First smiled, "You'll have plenty of time in the future."
"We both will." Cloud stood up and placed his hand on Zack's shoulder. The First had tucked his wings away when getting his uniform and hadn't brought them back out. It was just him under the fabric. "Thanks."
Zack blinked quickly and kept his eyes on his task. Once Cloud was through the door he grabbed a tissue and blew his noise. He knew Cloud would hear it, but he was in a different room so it wasn't the same thing at all.
They'd finished sorting the letters. They were in three neat stacks: year one, year two and year three. One for each year they'd been imprisoned. She'd never believed he was dead; she'd told him that when he'd called her on the way out of Nibelheim, so there shouldn't be any emotional grenades waiting for him in any of her letters, right? It was highly unlikely that he'd find a 'Dear Cid' letter buried in the stack yet he couldn't bring himself to open the first one.
He pulled out his PHS, flipping it open to check the time. A quick calculation, one that that getting very familiar, let him know it was too early for anyone to be up in Junon—even one with a garden. He wondered if she went out selling flowers along the sea shore, encouraging the scruffy businesses to plant them in front of the worn out façades. He knew if he owned any of them, he'd be so completely suckered in by her he'd buy out her whole stock. And all this was just an excuse to delay opening her letters.
He stood up, walked around, did some squats; thinking about it, trying to figure it out. What the hells was he so afraid of? He'd talked to her on the phone and already knew that she still loved him. Then he realized… it wasn't what she might have said that had him so upset, it was the fact that he'd missed three years with her; three years he could've been holding her, kissing her... loving her.
Fucking Hojo! Fucking ShinRa! Fuck the lot of them. He was glad they were dead. Then he sighed. Aerith wouldn't approve of that attitude. Aerith believed people could change, and would change, given the right circumstances. People called him an optimist. He was a fucking shamateur compared to her.
He plopped his ass down in the chair and, with a mulish cast to his jaw, opened the first letter.
Dear Zack; she began. This is letter #1. It seems so odd to be writing you a letter when you're supposed to be back in only a couple weeks but a promise is a promise...
He smiled because the picture of her saying that was so clear in his mind. He rested his cheek on his arm and continued reading, hearing her voice across the years.
General Sephiroth, as enhanced as he was, hardly needed any light to see. That was the reason there was only one lamp, turned low, in his private area. That it created a soft, romantic atmosphere was completely coincidental. Cloud knew that, but it didn't stop him from sighing plaintively at the sight of the big bed that would only be used for sleeping tonight.
Sephiroth entered in time to catch the tail end of Cloud's sad little sigh. "Cloud?" he moved forward anxiously, eyes scanning for damage.
Cloud turned to plead for leniency on the whole wait-twelve-hours thing but his mouth went dry when he saw Sephiroth. The General was wearing the same boring sleep pants he was but they somehow looked different on him, clinging and draping over the lean muscles of his legs and hips... and groin. Then there was the man's chest! Sephiroth had always had broad shoulders but now they were even wider, and the muscles over his ribs and belly were tight, strong and clearly defined even on his pale, pale skin.
'Oh. My. Fucking. Gods!' he thought.
"Cloud, are you okay?" Now the General was touching him, running trembling hands over whatever body part he could reach. Considering his arm length, this meant he managed to touch most of Cloud without trying and, everywhere he touched it felt like Bolt materia being fed directly into the smaller man's system: muscles, nerves, veins, even bones lit up with a buzz that was just barely on the near side of pain and just short of orgasmic. And Sephiroth wasn't even trying to turn him on.
"Stop, stop," the blond gasped, the force of it pulling him up onto his toes. "I'm fine just, just stop... please."
The General stepped back and Cloud, released from the sensation, crumpled to the floor. He lay panting, eyes closed, feeling both light and heavy and very, very weak. He felt, more than heard, the General move a step closer. "Cloud?" the General's voice was almost timid.
The voice came from right above him so the blond opened his eyes, lids barely making it half-way. It was enough to see Sephiroth's acid green eyes wide in concern. His long, silver hair was swaying just inches from Cloud's body. The blond reached up a lazy hand to grab a tendril and wrap it around his fingers. He was amazed that he could manage the complicated movement. "'m-'kay," he promised with a soft smile. Now that the danger was past he actually felt pretty good; lazy and sated. "I unnerstan' why we 'aveta wait twelve hours. Hmm," he undulated slightly, enjoying the lazy stretch. With his eyes closed he looked like a satisfied cat. "I couldna take much more of that."
"But, I wasn't even caressing you," Sephiroth said enlightened.
Cloud's smiled deepened, grew a little predatory. If he could've, he would've been purring, "After three years, I guess I can't resist you, not even the smallest touch. Not that I'd want to… Sir."
The General flushed in embarrassment and arousal and carefully avoiding looking any lower than the Corporal's chest, "Ah," he cleared his throat. "Should I help you to your feet?"
"Probably not," Cloud said. He yawned and released the strand of silver hair to cover it with his hand.
Sephiroth, newly freed from the small binding, straightened and glanced around the room. Cloud wasn't the only one who wanted to touch. A neutral topic was required.
His eyes skittered self-consciously over the bed and latched onto the wide sword that had joined his narrow one. Weapons... metal weapons, rather than flesh, would be a safe topic. "Zack said that your new sword was made for you. What did he mean?" Except, now that he was actually looking at the sword, rather than its bearer, he could see the pattern of clouds etched into the black fuller in the middle of the blade.
"The soldiers who found it called it 'Heaven's Cloud'," the blond rolled onto his side. "I thought the supply clerk was going to have a heart attack when Zack told him my name."
The silver-haired warrior had moved closer to the heavy sword. He reached out a hand to measure the width against his spread fingers. He glanced back over his shoulder, "May I?"
"Of course," Cloud moved out the way, giving the swordsman room to swing the blade.
Sephiroth might prefer his signature two-metre Masamune but that didn't mean he didn't train with, and master, all the swords commonly used by his SOLDIERs. How could he design training programs if he didn't know a weapon's strengths and weaknesses? He shifted slowly through a couple different routines; a bastardized Wutaian kata and a free-flowing eastern exercise. "Nice balance," the swordsman commented.
He then tapped the blade along its length and width and listened intently to the resulting tone, seeking any imperfection in its forging that might cause it to break just when Cloud needed it most. It rang true. He gave a sharp nod of satisfaction. He tested the edge with his thumb creating a thin line of red that sealed almost as quickly as it appears. Then he did something so theatrical that his blond lover had to stifle a giggle behind his fist. The General pulled one of the shorter hairs from around his face and dropped it over the cutting edge. "Huh," he muttered in disappointment when the hair didn't fall in two.
Cloud didn't even try to hide his laughter. Sephiroth glanced up at him and smiled. "One of these times, it'll work," he vowed.
"Doesn't Masamune..." the blond started to ask but Sephiroth was already shaking his head.
"Masamune is the sharpest blade I've encountered but even it needs some force to cut. Gravity works on larger items—I've cut an apple by dropping it on Masamune, but there's very little gravity at work on a strand of hair. Perhaps one day," the Silver General murmured as he moved to sit on the bed, Heaven's Cloud still nestled in his hands. He examined the bright balls of materia now imbedded in the cross-guard, touching them lightly to assess their power and their strength.
Cloud had never before realized that he could envy what were essentially big marbles but, as he watched long, slender fingers rub and caress the orbs, that's exactly what he felt. Then he felt a low hum that lifted the hair on his arms. The orbs were glowing a little brighter than they had. He sat up in concern. He didn't know much about material but he knew that, when they glowed on their own, it was a bad thing. "General?"
"A very modest selection of materia," Sephiroth responded, uncaring that he'd 'awoken' the materia. They'd settle down once he stopped touching them.
Cloud deflated a little. "Zack thought I should stick with the basics until I figured out what my control's like, so I've got Restore—which is like the old Cure, the clerk said." Sephiroth nodded in confirmation. "There's an Esuna, a Barrier, and a-a Bolt, which is like Thunder, I guess. The last one is Status Strike, which sounds cool. Zack said I should try it as it doesn't really require me to do anything." Not the mix Sephiroth would've picked but acceptable. He nodded again, this time to tell the blond to continue. Cloud had, by this time, come over to sit beside him. "Tifa also showed me how to link two materia together. She put a Poison materia and an Added Effect in my bracer. She said it'll make me immune to poison attacks." He looked at Sephiroth, who hadn't been isolated in a lab for the last three years. "I've never heard of doing that with materia, have you?"
"It's a new development," Sephiroth confirmed. "Since discovering that materia is just another form of the Lifestream, we no longer practice fusion, but the added power that fusing materia provided is hard to give up. Scientists and theorists have been working on new ways of combining their powers. The linked slots in weapons and armour were the result. It can be tricky to balance the power needed with the result, however. I think Tifa's picked a good combination for you to start on." Plus anything that protected Cloud found favour with Sephiroth but that wasn't something he was going to tell the smaller warrior. It would be condescending—as if he didn't think Cloud could handle the danger.
"Do you use a linked set?" Cloud asked.
"Hmm," he nodded, "Final Attack and Revive. That way, if I'm fatally injured, I will be brought back to life automatically." He gave his lover a warm look from his cat-slit eyes. "Before I might not have cared if a medic could reach me with a Phoenix Down but, now especially, I don't want to risk it." Quicker than thought, the silver-haired SOLDIER bent down and gave his lover a nipping kiss. The message was unmistakeable. Cloud blushed like he had before in the tent. Sephiroth's smile deepened but he had mercy on the newly recovered soldier. He went over to the chest and bent down to carefully lay the sword down.
"It is a larger weapon than I would have picked for you but, somehow, it suits you." He straightened, pushing his long hair back over his shoulder. He turned only to see Cloud's large, expressive eyes running over his body with a yearning hunger that mirrored Sephiroth's own desire. Acid green eyes flashed—he wanted. With a resigned sigh he brought himself back under control.
"Ten hours, fourteen minutes and twenty-nine seconds," he muttered cryptically but Cloud understood him. They had to wait. The blond's shoulders slumped and he turned to crawl dejectedly across the huge make-shift bed.
"I told Zack to come join us when he's finished reading for the night," the blond said as he climbed under the light covering which was all he needed now. It was so thin it barely qualified as a sheet but it would be enough as long as the General was beside him. He plumped one of the flat, military-issue pillows and lay down facing the General. General Sephiroth. His lover...
He was sharing a bed with the great General Sephiroth who was his lover—publicly declared.
OhmyfuckingGODS!
"What is it?" Sephiroth paused, wondering what had caused Cloud's eyes to flash.
Cloud blinked, hesitating. His question was probably going to sound strange but he had to know... "Is this real?"
A rare, full smile bloomed on Sephiroth's face. It was the exact same question the Corporal had asked three years ago, and, like three years ago, his answer was the same: "Yes, Cloud. This is very, very real."
"Oh," the blond said in a small voice, burying his coloured cheeks in the covering. "Ten hours and what?"
"Ten hours, two minutes and thirty-six seconds," the General answered pulling back the sheet to lie next to his lover. He wrapped long arms around the slim form and tucked him in close. His body tightened as Cloud's warm breath caressed his chest. "Did you want your wings out?" he asked to distract himself. He felt blond hair tickling over his nipples as Cloud shook his head. He nearly growled in frustration. The question had failed as a distraction.
Cloud snorted, lifted his head to look the General in the eyes. "You do realize that in ten hours we're going to be flying over enemy territory in a crowded helicopter," he said.
"I realize," he answered shortly. Quiet fell.
"Maybe we'll be able to sneak off during the march and grab a quickie behind a tree..."
Sephiroth swallowed the growl once again. "I was trying not to think of it."
"Yes, Sir," the Corporal snickered, "Sorry, Sir."
"Go to sleep, Corporal," Sephiroth growled.
Dear Zack, this is letter #4. I know we just talked to each other yesterday (and when you get back I'm going to ask you why Tseng was using me to pass you messages!) but for some reason I'm suddenly feeling really uneasy. Something's happened, hasn't it? Usually I can tell when one of the Turks is watching me but I can't sense anyone at all. I can't help but wonder if they're gone because of whatever's happened to you. I'll send this letter like I always do but I hope—I really, really hope—that you call me before it gets to you.
I want to see you again, spend more time with you, so please, sweet Zack, be safe...
"Shit, piss and fucking hells," Zack swore viciously.
He knew the exact moment she would have felt this—when he'd been lying there on the grating, feeling the blood pumping out of his body, so shot up and damaged that he couldn't repair the wounds fast enough. He'd been hopeful that Seph would maybe survive, knowing that, even if he didn't, it was better than Seph falling back under Hojo's control. He'd felt bad for Cloud, young and in love and probably dead. Most of all, however, he'd wanted to see Aerith's face once more, hear her voice, and look into her pretty eyes as she laughed. He'd wanted—needed, to tell her that he loved her, and he'd been kicking himself for being a cowardly ass.
His fingers traced the lines she wrote, seeing where the ink had blurred. Had she cried as she wrote it?
He hadn't wanted her to be hurt and often loving a SOLDIER meant exactly that but she'd hurt anyway. His pain. Her pain. Three years alone... except for Cloud... and the hope that, one day, they'd bust out of there and she'd still be waiting–
–and she was. She was waiting for him—across a whole fucking continent and a fucking ocean!
He needed her now.
He sniffed and blinked, and denied that he was weepy over letters that couldn't change the past, but he packed them up and carefully carried the box into the General's private space. He didn't bother tip-toeing, the genetically-modified SOLDIER would be more disturbed by someone trying to sneak into his room than if he just walked normally. He needn't have worried. Green eyes glowed in the dark; Seph was awake. Silently his silver-haired friend lifted the sheet, inviting Zack to climb in next to Cloud.
"Is he sleeping?" Zack asked.
"Yes," the General replied softly, "It's been a somewhat stressful afternoon for him."
Zack managed to snicker at the understatement, "For all of us."
"Hmm." It could've been agreement. It could've been anything. Zack didn't care. At least it was human, and alive, and here. He walked over the bed and looked down at his friend, his companion, his burden, his saviour. The mountain boy looked tiny next to the General, though Zack knew he wasn't; he was just curled up like a kid, full of trust and hope. Zack remembered those emotions. Three people in the world gave him that feeling... and two of them were here.
"Are you going to make me spend the whole night with my arm raised or are you going to join us?" Sephiroth asked dryly.
"It's really okay?"
Sephiroth didn't bother hiding his sigh, "We've been over this. Don't make me repeat myself."
"Sorry," Zack grinned sheepishly and climbed into bed.
"Hmm," the General said. "At least this way I know you're not off sacrificing yourself to some immortal cosmic messenger with no morals."
Zack squirmed embarrassed. "But... Tha–that's not, I mean... Shit." He stopped, restarted, "I don't need a babysitter, Seph."
"Maybe not, but your flower girl would never forgive me if I let you get damaged so soon after rescuing you." Well, that was true, Zack conceded.
"Besides," the General continued, "I did some research. Bats are communal. They live in colonies, they sleep in groups. Until you get back to your Heart, we—Cloud and I, are your community. Never hesitate to join us."
"Oh man," Zack whispered. Sephiroth's simple statement, combined with Aerith's letters, had his chest squeezing. He was gonna cry; he knew it. He wondered how to say thank you for something like that? It was too big for words but too wonderful to ignore. A simple 'thank you' didn't seem large enough to carry all his emotions. He didn't need to worry. The silver-haired SOLDIER heard him.
"You're welcome," Sephiroth said, "Now go to sleep. We're supposed to save the planet tomorrow so we should try to look our best."
Zack snorted, "You and your sense of humour." The smile stayed on his face as he drifted off. The last thought that wandered through his mind was a hope that tonight's sleep would be a little less active than the one he'd had last night, maybe he could spend it sleeping in the garden, and then his mind was blank.
Lost in the shadows he could surround himself with when he wanted to, Vincent watched as the last of the repair crew left the airstrip. He was thinking of something Fair had said during the meeting: Chaos could ignore his destiny. He had free will.
*Considering the situation, my host, I think he exaggerated,* Chaos commented.
'But, if the moment arises, you don't have to be Omega's squire. You don't have to assist him. You have that choice,' Vincent thought back in argument. Choosing to change one's fate...
*And what choice are you tormenting yourself over, my host, my own* the demon laughed, *May I hope that it's whether you'd prefer taking the feisty one or the little bat to your bed?*
Vincent ignored the demon's leering comment; this was far too important. 'Who do I ask for forgiveness when the person I sinned against is dead?'
*Sinned against?* Chaos sneered. Its outrage made the gunman wobble on the pole. *I'm sick of your mewling... 'sinned against'. Didn't she sin against you, against me, when she forced us to be joined? I will be glad when Omega rises for that means I will be pulled out of your boring, broody soul and will finally be free to enjoy–*
'If I can choose to forgive my sins, will I then be worthy of Tifa's regard? Will I be clean enough to touch her?' Vincent asked and stopped the demon's rant cold.
*Sooo... it's the female warrior you want,* it said, now sounding intrigued, *I wonder how she will react to your courtship, my own. Watching you try to woo her, in your pathetic way, might be worth sticking around for. Will you try to wrestle her into submission—Galian would like that.*
As Chaos pictured various ways Vincent could drag Tifa off for sex it occurred to the gunman that not once did the creature imply that Vincent couldn't, or even wouldn't, be forgiven. Perhaps, Vincent thought to himself, there is something to hope for after all.