I.
She was humming this morning, which was somewhat out of the ordinary. It echoed through the metal lined chamber and drew him away from his own systems check. Cid had known Shera for a little over a year and a half now. When she clocked on, she was a pretty hushed worker bee. He could only assume that his last minute kiss during their departure last night had gone over well. He pressed his gloved hands into his jacket pockets, and took a few steps over a working platform to patronize her.
What was she doing anyway? All he could see was a wriggling spotlight and her held-high backside poking out from the split in her lab coat. Which, wasn't a bad sight.
"Hey, Shera!" Cid winced when he heard the distinctive thump of her back smacking into a pipe above. She hissed, shimmed out of the crawl space she'd wedged herself into, and curiously blinked behind a now crooked set of glasses. Boy, he knew how to scope em' out, didn't he?
"Sorry, Captain," despite being spooked, Shera offered him a very welcoming smile "I didn't hear you. Do you need something?" She dusted off the front of her lab coat, snapped off a pocket flashlight, and then pulled herself to her feet. The clip board she usually toted around with her had an endless chart of scribbled testing numbers.
"Not really." Cid crinkled his nose; debating a proper road to take in the conversation he'd initiated. He really wanted to ask her questions of a more personal nature; the status quo of their so called relationship, but he'd probably have to kick himself in the ass for it later. Better play it safe.
"I don't really need anythin', but Palmer says they're hookin' up a teleconference with the President sometime after lunch. Get the feelin' he wants you to take a seat."
Her head cocked back in slight disbelief. Diligently, Shera righted her glasses and blinked a few more times in bewilderment. "Me? I assumed it would be a little more exclusive, if they're going to be speaking with the president directly. I mean, I don't really know what I could offer in conversation." She nibbled on the cap of a pen. "There isn't anything you can't just say for me, or that you don't know."
"Hey, look, Shera, I don't call those shots." Cid shrugged his shoulders and pressed his hip into the safety rail. "I'm just gonna tell ya' what he told me:" He pressed the back of his tongue up against the roof of his mouth, making his tone congested. "Tell Ms. Lady she should come, too!"
Shera snorted; clicking her tongue at Cid's bad impression of the head of their department. "You think he knows my name at all?"
"Doubt it." Cid idly scratched his chin and narrowed his eyes. "Puttin' you in some big seats these days, huh. Wouldn't put it past me to say Palmer's sorta sweet on you."
Shera in no way, was able to control her gag. It contorted her entire face with pure disgust. It was Cid's turn to snort. In fact, his snort turned into an ugly, un-expecting laugh that echoed down to the rocket chamber below. He placed his hand over his mouth to muffle himself, and ease the assault on his sinuses. If he'd be drinking something, Cid was sure he would have spat it out. Could he rewind and get a fuckin' picture of that?
Guess he wouldn't have any competition with Palmer…
II.
The cushioned seat, one of many that lined the long conference table, hugged Shera's back and sides. She waited patiently, almost nervously for them to commence the conference call that would link the Rocket Division up with distant Midgar. She drummed anxious fingernails against the armrest and discreetly gazed from distracted face, to face.
She felt so out of place. There were a few people she recognized; department leaders a chair or two below Palmer, and maybe two or three above her. And then there was Captain Highwind, seated at the other side of the table directly across from her. He looked absolutely bored and ready for the conference to end before it even started. Maybe he was used to this sort of thing?
"Alright, dialed out!" Palmer clasped and then rubbed his hands. Eyes eager, he pressed the speaker call button and fiddled with the volume. Everyone was silent while the red, glaring light of the dingy office phone stopped blinking and became fully lit.
"Hello~!" A voice chirped through the static of the shotty connection.
Shera wasn't expecting a voice so high pitched. Um, she was expecting a man, obviously. Whoever the speaker was, they were a woman. A secretary maybe? She lifted her eyes, meaning to communicate her confusion to Cid ahead of her, but he was too preoccupied with glowering at the phone. That confused her a bit more.
"Uh, uh? S-scarlet, hey-hey!" Palmer huffed "We're supposed to be speaking with President ShinRa!"
"I know that." The chipper tone in the speaker's voice vanished. "He's busy. You're just going to have to listen to little ol' me. Make it quick." She snapped.
The Captain squared his jaw and clenched his teeth on the inside of his mouth. Shera could hear them clicking as he began to respond before Palmer could form a word. "He's s'posed to be busy speakin' with us. Put em on the line." His nostrils flared. Shera was more than sure now that she had missed something.
"Ew? Do I know you?" Scarlet smacked her lips. The phone line crackled. "As I was saying. I haven't got all day. What does the Space Department have to officially report? Time is money. I'm sure you've wasted enough of both."
There was a brief, tense pause. Captain Highwind had abruptly stood up from his seat; red in the face. Palmer flailed his arms in trying to prevent his prime employee from ripping the phone from the hook and 'speaking' with Scarlet more personally.
"We are on the record," Shera began. There was another short silence. Everyone including the Captain, directed their attention to her. "ready to begin a launch containing human life." Her throat began to dry. "Rocket modifications should be complete within this year. The president can expect the launch this coming late fall. "
"Hm…go on."
"We'll…ah, we'll fax the official budgeting for fuel, custom machinery, and labor. Once we're sure of survival and effects pertaining to space flight, we'll move forward with exploration of lucrative resources." Shera licked her lips. "With the President's permission, of course."
"Well, well. That's all you had to say. So, I guess that's that." Scarlet snickered. There was a sharp, metallic screech in the background of her end of the already struggling call, that made everyone flinch in their seats.
"Like I said, very important things happening here. Ciao."
And just like that. The call was over.
III.
"Captain…" Shera crossed, and then re-crossed her legs over the cushion she'd placed for herself on the floor.
The air was luke-warm and humming with the sound of the working air conditioning of Captain Highwind's living quarters. She had long placed her paper work aside, and secluded herself to the make shift 'living room'. Back propped against the couch, she stabbed a spoon through long cold, half-baked cookie dough, and listened to the Captain muttering to himself at the working table in the kitchen area.
"What." He grunted.
"Who is Scarlet?"
"You mean to tell me," something clattered to the table like he threw it down "that you work for ShinRa, and don't know who that she-monster is?" He sounded clearly frustrated, or irritated. Probably both.
"Well, I was hired straight here, Captain. I haven't worked under any other departments." She pushed herself up and took her cup with her into the kitchen. Shera ate the rest of the dough at the bottom, licked sugar from her upper lip, and began to wash the mug at the sink.
"She's head of Weapons. I worked there as one of her flyin' monkeys." The Captain spat. "She's…fuckin' awful. Can summon Lucifer by lookin' in a mirror. I can't even tell you half of the stuff she's wanted us to do, or half the stuff she's done. And y'know what?!" He barked. "I bet she ain't gonna mention a DAMN THING to the President."
"Are you sure you can't? What was so bad about her?" She was curious now. Shera slowed her scrubbing and turned the water down to listen.
"Well, for one, she wanted us dropping custom ground splitters on civilians. I have to draw lines, y'know? Didn't see much point in being a military pilot just so she could test out her big guns on folks who ain't got nothin' to do with nothin'. Not a goddamn drop of honor or worth in that."
Captain Highwind's shoulders sank and he deeply sighed. "I let her know she was fucking crazy, and the Stone Cold Bitch kicked me out. Took my beaut', my darlin' with her."
"Your…?" Shera frowned.
"My ship, dammit! She fuckin' took my airship and rubbed her little imp fingers all over it!"
Imp? Shera gave him a questioning expression, and he shot her a responding look that let her know he wasn't going to delve into the topic. "I didn't even know you had a ship, Captain. That's terrible."
"Hey, The Highwind and my last name ain't a coincidence. I designed that ship. It's what she hired me for, schematics, and then she waved her wand and turned me into one of her drones. Well, for as long as I could bear anyway. I'm pretty damn lucky Palmer was digging through the trash, otherwise I wouldn't be a damn treasure in this department. How lucky am I?"
"Well," Shera pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek "maybe once you gain a little fame, you'll be able to snatch it back from her?"
"Joules, in my wildest dreams." The Captain expelled one last sigh, and then collected his tools from the table top. "But I'm likin' the idea. Least I got to keep my Bronco."
Shera placed her mug on the kitchen rack to dry. She pivoted on her heel to face him. "And what might that be? "
"The Bronco, Tiny Bronco, that's my water landing plane. Flew it here when I got transferred. It's locked up in the garage across the ways now, but, I'll take you on a ride when everythin's said n' done, and we're headed to Midgar to get our pat on the backs."
Shera smiled at the thought, and then crossed her arms over her stomach. "Do you think she really won't say anything to President ShinRa, though?"
"Palmer's sweet on you."
"Please…do not remind me."
"And Scarlet ain't sweet on nothin'. Not everyone sees the point in what we're doing here."
"…Understood."
IV.
It felt a lot like graduation all over again.
Cid turned his head from side to side and gazed at himself in the mirror provided by the facility. Prior to arriving, he'd had his hair neatly cut, and shaved his chin for good measure. He felt official, like a real hero, with his shoulders squared. Looked like one, too. He grinned to the technician behind him in the reflection, who had been drilling him on how to take the layers of his suit on and off. He memorized every bit and piece. Cid knew what went where, when, and how.
"You coulda turned around a long time ago." Cid clutched his shiny, Celestialnaut helmet under his arm, and placed his free hand on his hip.
"Nobody gave me the cue." Shera swiveled around in her chair. She took a moment to get a good look at him almost fully suited in his Cabin Gear. She playfully whistled. "Well, look at you. I do like a man in uniform."
"Shit, I'll keep that in mind, Joules."
The aiding technician rolled his eyes and excused himself to the other room. "You have ten minutes before they're ready for the photos, Captain."
"Rodger, I'll haul myself there in a sec." Cid flashed Shera a very excited grin. He wasn't able to contain it; he was just so damn happy. There wasn't any other way to say it.
"You look… you look really good." Shera laughed, the silvery one he really liked, with the same amount of excitement and stood to sample the material covering his arm. She was very cautious of what she touched, which was understandable. His suit was probably worth more than either of them would ever make in two lifetimes. "It'll be a good photo, Captain."
"I've got all of my certificates squared away, and I concluded training last month. I mean, get a fuckin' load of these patches, huh? Boy Scouts ain't got a damn thing on me. Guess these are my first reward." He arched his brows. Cid's smile remained just as proud and toothy.
"I hope you don't mind if I give you a second. I figured I'd wait until launch a few months from now, but maybe summer just has me in a good mood." Shera boldly motioned for him to lean down with her hand.
Cid's tongue swept across his bottom lip in anticipation. He tried to keep himself grounded, but man, the whole day had him on the highest bird. Nothing could get any better than this.
V.
"Hey, wait!" Cid held up his hand to pause the photographer. They had just finished setting the miniature model of the rocket behind him, and poising the company flag.
"I ain't takin' the picture if I can't have my assistant in it with me."
"Uh, Captain…we're really pressed for time here we've got to—"
"Hey, y'heard me! C'mon Joules, come in here and put your hands on my shoulders!"
VI.
It felt so odd to receive a day off. She figured maybe the hired out mechanics were trying to shoo her away, so they could have some breathing room on her vacation days. Shera didn't mean to hover in every nook and cranky of the massive project, but she was growing more anxious with each passing day. She had marked the date on her calendar.
3-2-1, lift off…
If only it were sooner. Patience, Patience, Patience.
Shera ripped her eyes away from the marked date on her pin board, and then sank down in bed. She figured on a day off, she'd spend her time sleeping in till the late afternoon, but it was only nine, and her mind, and busy bee body refused to allow her to lie in the comfort of her cot any longer.
So… what to do? She'd reviewed the schedule over and over and over again. Printed spare copies, even. There wasn't an event she wasn't aware of, so no point in pretending to 'catch up'. Shera sighed and began to wonder if they'd allow her to tour the launch pad if it was for pure leisure, but she supposed, her co-workers knew her better by now.
"Nothing like a bored day off…" Shera muttered and groped her nightstand for her glasses. She placed the frames on her face, flicked off her bedside light, and traded the light source for a now uncovered window. There was a slight breeze past the warming glass. Mellow morning sunlight kissed and shimmered over the vines and ferns that grew over her patio. Clouds brushed the high tops of the distant mountains. The sky was a vibrant, reborn blue, like the ocean back at home. A beautiful day with nothing to do. But, that wasn't her style now, was it? Shera Alani Joules was born to be kept busy.
Letting out a rather unattractive grunt, Shera peeled herself from the top of her comforter, slipped on a pair of shorts, then a set of wedged flip flops, and then unlocked the other apartment door. The breeze carried through the strands of her hair. She could always waste her time gardening and people watching and neglecting to call her mother and thinking about her 'supervisor' romantically and actually really really really hoping she could just get back to work.
Shera screwed her face up at no one but herself and trotted around the bend in the patio to the front corner holding the main door to her shared apartment. After filling a yellow watering container up, she began walking from pot to pot. She only missed home sometimes, and her mother's garden was probably a big reason why.
Mother…Mom…Mama…Maku…hm….
She really needed to call her. It'd been uh, a month? Or two, possibly four since she'd actually called and not sent her something interesting in the mail in hopes of assuring her she was still alive. It was just so hard. She loved her mother, but not being obligated to talk to her every day due to proximity was just too much of a luxury. Shera thought herself horrible for thinking so.
"Flowers stressing you out that much, ma'am?"
Shera snapped up from her bench pot of lavender. A bit of water escaped the top opening of her can in her haste to find the source of the sudden voice. It trickled down her legs and seeped into the concrete beneath her feet.
"Um, no. I stress myself out." She spotted her unexpected visitor some short ways down on the rail. He made a partial ascent up; keeping a polite distance at the last step to the top.
"May I come up?" He asked. The man's dark eyes were neutral. It was hard to see him speak beneath the scruff of his beard.
"Depends." Shera placed her can down. She remembered him now. He was the fellow from forever ago at the diner. "What's your business, Mr. Stranger?"
Mr. Stranger chuckled. "It's Robin. You're Ms. Joules, right?" She didn't tell him he could come up yet, but he took the liberty of fully stepping up to the terrace anyway. "I was asked to give you this."
Shera cautiously crossed the patio space and took a manila parcel from his outstretched hand. "What is this?"
"Don't know. I was just told to give it to you." The look in his eyes shifted. Shera could feel him fleetingly examining her. "You work with Cid, don't you? You're his assistant?"
She wasn't in the mood to hold a conversation. Shera nodded her head. "Yes." She curtly answered. "But I work with a lot of people. I really need to get back to work here. Lots to do." She lied.
"Alright, alright. I can see when I'm getting the boot. Tell Cid, Robin says 'congrats'." Something about the way he said it didn't sound all that genuine. Robin's smile wasn't all the way there either while tipping an invisible hat in departure. His eyes, with that look she couldn't place her finger on, swiftly traveled her before he was out of sight down the stairs.
VIII.
After being made uneasy, Shera tossed the parcel down on her bed, and continued meandering through her day. After being out on the patio tending to plants, and taking a short break to acquire some sweets from the nearby corner store, she retired again to her bed and checked her phone for messages. It was hardy three in the afternoon. So much for keeping busy.
Two texts from Miso saying she'd be home late. A phone call from her mother (cringe). Three texts from Palmer because he'd forgotten she was off. And one from Captain Highwind. She read the Captain's first:
Call me when you can! I got the picture this morning. They're putting the jumbo one up in the hall. Damn, I look good. You do, too, Jolts.
"Picture?" Shera placed her phone down to take up the parcel on her bed. She ripped back the bubble wrapped tab and slid something heavy out from the inside.
OH!
The official photography of ShinRa's first Celestialnaut (if you didn't count Jupiter) …and his assistant standing behind him with her hands on his suited shoulders. Shera bit her cheek and clutched the expensive frame against her chest.
Okay, NOW, she had to call her mother.
IX.
"Sheraton, are you only going to call me to squeal now?!"
X.
"You get to see all the real action. I'm stuck in the communication center. Did I tell you human resources sucks?"
"Yes, Miso. You tell me almost every day." She blew over the steam that wafted her nose. It was rice and lightly fried chicken for dinner. Shera didn't have anything else better to do, so she'd cooked before her roommate made it home. Now they were both moping in front of the television. The news was relatively uneventful.
"Almost? Almost every day? Looks like I've got to step my game up. You're about to hear it every day of the week. If I was any good at math, I think I'd like your pay." Miso spoke over her stuffed mouth. She plopped her bottom down on the coffee table, partially blocking the view to the television.
Shera nudged Miso in the back with her foot. "You don't want my job. All they do is ask you to do things they could be doing themselves.
"And then your semi-boss barks up your tree on job, and then tries to make out with you after hours?" Her roommate's silky black hair rolled over her shoulder. Miso's soft almond eyes crinkled with the crane of her neck to look Shera in her face and snicker.
"For the record, he barks up my tree after hours, too."
"OOOOOOOOO!"
"NOT IN THAT KIND OF WAY." Shera full out shoved her with her heel. Miso caught herself in the carpet; holding her bowl high to keep it from spilling.
"Oh my~! I didn't know you were that kind of girl, Shera."
"Miso, that's not even funny. It's not like that, it's—" Shera would have finished her statement if Captain Highwind's voice hadn't startled her. Hazel eyes darted to the source: ah, the television.
Wait? The television? Shera severely leaned over and turned up the sound using the remote.
"There goes your man, Sherry Berry."
The Captain was seated in some sort of burgundy mechanic's jumper with the company's logo plastered and patched in every available corner. A reporter sat on his other side, asking him several enthusiastic questions.
"So, Captain Highwind, in closing, how would you summarize your journey so far? Has it been tough at all?"
The stubble was gone, but the Captain scratched his chin out of habit, and then answered. "It's been hard as… I don't know what." Shera shook her head. There should have been a curse in there somewhere. "Takes a lot of know-how, and a lot of determination to participate in this sorta training. I'd wrap it up by sayin' we'll reap what we sow, eh? When it's all said n' done, we'll have something really spectacular to continue on with."
"Fair enough! I'm sure it'll jump start a whole world of discovery. But, I do have to ask, aren't you nervous at all?" The interviewer laughed. "You'll be the first person to ever do something like this."
"I'm Fu-%#!n' terrified." Captain Highwind's mouth slipped and they barely bleeped it out. "But it's a good sort of fear, y'know. Keeps ya in check."
"Oh my god, Shera." Miso was highly amused. She took the remote from her to turn it up more.
"I know…" Shera could only continue to shake her head.
"I…I think I like that answer." The interviewer was regaining his composure. It seems the Captain had totally missed what the man was flustered for and was still nonchalantly seated. "One final question, what do you plan to do after you make it back home? If you are coming back?"
Captain Highwind narrowed. "I'll be coming back, and stickin' around. Don't you worry. I mean, why wouldn't I come back? I've got a date soon's I get used to gravity again."
The interviewer whistled. "Oh-ho! That so?! Lucky them!"
The Celestialnaut charmingly grinned, adjusted a pair of brown goggles strapped to his forehead, and then winked. "Y'sir."
"Well that's all the time we have here. Thank you again, Captain Highwind for taking the time to answer some of our questions, and good luck to you in these coming months. Now, to our top story at eight, General Sephiroth—"
Miso swiveled around on her bottom, probably giving herself carpet burn. Her mouth was gaping while she drew in a dramatic gasp.
"AM I SPEAKING TO LADY LUCK HERSELF?"
"Miso…please don't do this."
XI.
The battery light of Shera's phone flickered beneath the cover of her bangs. She'd turned off the light hours ago, expecting to find sleep, but only found herself staring at the ceiling. Maybe she just wasn't exhausted like she normally was; tired enough to have no choice but to sleep.
"Hey, I was wonderin' when you'd call."
"Hi," Shera hushed her voice so her roommate wouldn't hear her over in the other room. She reached over to turn on her lamp light. "I got the picture, and I saw your interview earlier. Everything's happening so fast, yet so slow. I'm ready for countdown, but I'm so nervous." Shera twirled a bit of her bangs around her finger.
"You'n me both, Shera."
She shivered. Captain Highwind's voice was textured by recognizable tiredness. Shera liked the way he'd said her name. Deep and tangy. "I shouldn't say that. I'm not the one who's going to be leaving."
"S'alright. I'm ready to go. So tired of bein' on the ground. I wanna fly, higher than anyone's ever gone before. S'cuse me if I'm gettin' sappy on ya. I've just wanted this since I could talk." She could hear something creaking in the background of the speaker. Springs maybe? Was he in bed, too?
"I don't mind, Captain. I…" Shera lowered her voice just a bit more "I may not have flight in my heart, but I've always loved stars, exploration, man power. If it's one thing I appreciate, it's great minds merging with hard word. So, I apologize if I'm getting sappy, but I'm very proud of you. You're almost there."
The only reply was silence. It stretched on a good while. Shera was beginning to think she'd said something wrong.
"Shera?"
"Yes, sir…?"
"That means the world to me." Cid yawned. "Don't er, go tellin' everyone I'm a sugar cube, but I really 'preciate that. You're a pretty good gal. Bet you'd make a pretty good woman."
Her laugh came out in a short huff of air through her nose. Shera curled in on herself and tried to keep her smile from seizing her face. "You think so?"
"Don't really know. It's sorta a hunch. I think any fella'd be lucky to have you."
"Only one true way to find out, Captain."
"Know-it-all." The Captain's laugh was a husky one. "That's my girl. I'll catch you and your smart mouth later, Shera."
That's my girl.
"Catch you later, Cid."
Shera's heart got to thumping in her chest. Maybe this was what people were talking about when they mentioned falling in love.
Sappy.
XII.
Fast, but just not fast enough? Shera was starting to wish time had kept that initial pace The last three months leading up to history in the making became a whirlwind of activity and preparation. She was characteristically a hard worker, but she could admit, she had never worked this hard in her life. Two more weeks. The cameras were rolling in. The town, as they would call it now, was congested. It was down to the wire.
She was used to late nights, but she pushed through her tiredness into early mornings, and many, many cups of cold coffee. It was all a good distraction. She kept thinking about the fellow she'd been 'duct taped' to. She had hoped to be out of his hair in the beginning, but now all she wanted to do was follow him around. Every time she talked to Cid, looked in his eyes, she felt like she could do anything she wanted. His energy, as light heartedly mean as he was, was invigorating. A gust of wind that rivaled the one that quaked the Nibelheim mountains.
All the interviews, and the photos, and the conferences, and company endorsements. She wished she could a part of it all just like Cid was, but she had just as an important job to do backstage. Just like the job she had ahead of her now.
Shera felt more jittery than usual while she traveled from beam to metal beam. This rocket, this big hunk of blood, sweat, and machinery, might as well have been an adopted garden. She was off the clock, but she came down to the launch pad on her own to run a routine check. Like crawling out of bed and sliding the patio door open. Maybe it was over watering, and over pruning, but she couldn't help it. Everything had to be healthy and ripe; perfect.
"Good, good, good…bad." She mumbled to herself; using her pocket flashlight to check on one of the pressure monitors. The LOX tanks in the ENGINE ROOM were always her first cautious stop. She had sent a directive reform in to the coordinator above her, and it seemed to be spotty in carrying through. Sometimes Shera drifted down to the compartment and they were all correct in pressurization, and other times, an odd sort would be off or just completely wrong.
Honestly, who kept fucking this up? This was why she took her time and double, triple checked. She expelled a bitter sigh, and slid a compartment latter out from its space saver notch. Making sure it was firmly in place, Shera wedged her pen between her teeth and made a slow climb up the enormous container to the manual adjusters.
"If I 'ave to change this one more 'ime, I'm 'oing to scream." She grumbled through the bit in her mouth, and made a mental note to send another mandatory reform. She couldn't imagine the sort of disaster this would have created if Cid made exit. The thought made her cringe.
Hopefully the coordinator wouldn't be too busy schmoozing the higher ups at the preparatory company banquets. This wasn't something you overlook, or forget about. She shouldn't have to explain to them how crucial it was.
XIII.
Her pace was so quick, Cid almost missed her. He crunched an empty beer can in his fist and tossed it into an outdoor trashcan. Taking up a jog, he caught up to her a short block down.
"Shera! I've been lookin' for ya! Didn't see you down at the bar. Too good to slack off like the rest of us?" Her pace only slowed by a small fraction. Cid couldn't imagine what she was in such a hurry to get to.
"Oh, sorry. I've just been checking on things. I need to get this to the front desk before it closes." She paused to allow some hauling trucks to mosey by. Shera caught her breath under the light of a corner lamp post. She chuckled. In the light, she could see Cid had a bit of cake frosting on his chin.
"You been up at the launch pad?" Cid wiped the crumbs away with his forearm, and then righted his flight jacket. "It's late, and everyone's kinda just been takin' it easy. There's a lot of folks tappin' mugs down in the dining district. I doubt anyone's tending that desk."
"I just want to make sure. The sooner I get this in, the better." She was revving up her engine again, and Cid reached out to take a hold of her shoulder and stop her.
"Hey, Shera. You've been a cluckn' hen this whole damn time. I've hardly get to see ya. We're all havin' a good time. Would it hurt to come and take it easy, too?" Cid fully caught her gaze. Her hazel eyes widened behind her glasses, and then darted off to the other side of the street.
"I suppose I could." She swayed in conflict.
"They'll be there tomorrow." Cid spun Shera around, and hooked her arm in his. "Tell ya what. How's about we ditch the partyin', and I'll show ya something special?"
XIV.
"He's not all that big, or anythin', but here he is. This is my Bronco!" Cid was waiting for her reaction. Shera curiously stepped up to the belly of his plane, and stepped up on one of the props to get a better look at the interior. Her head craned up to view the stilts and under-wings. There was a light, pleased smile on her pretty little face.
"He's uh, got a real kick in em, though." Cid rubbed the underside of his nose with his knuckle. His voice echoed in the hollowness of the storage house. "Whatdya think?"
"Kick in him, huh? Does he buck like a bronco, sir? It's a very nice plane." Shera hopped down; allowing Cid to unlock and peel open the company branded door to the inner seating.
"Somethin' like that." He gestured to her, letting her know she was allowed inside.
Shera sank down in one of the seats; equally pleased with the look and feel of the interior as she was with the outside. She nosily peered at the controls and dials that crowded around the steering. "You fly this all by yourself?"
"Yep, mostly. Could use a co-pilot if I had any room." Cid suggested more than he mentioned. "That's alright, though. Ever flown before?"
"Never have, sir." Plenty of boats, and ferries. But never a plane.
"We'll change that." He took her hand to guide her aside so he'd have more room to sit. Shera side saddled his seat. She was visibly flustered by their proximity. Cid had looped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side.
"I wouldn't have a reason to be nervous, right? You did say you were the best." She pressed her cheek against the firmness of his shoulder.
"Did I say best? I meant the fuckin' greatest pilot ShinRa's ever had. You won't have to worry." Cid snickered. "I'll make ya the best co-pilot first chance I get. That sound good to you?" He leaned down; beckoning Shera's lips to his. She couldn't have known what he really meant.
"Sounds good to me." Shera placed her hand on his cheek and allowed him to kiss her.
XV.
Parallel stilts of light flooded in from some of the open warehouse shutters. Shera squinted; allowing her eyes a moment or two to adjust. She hadn't forgotten where she was. How could she? Cid's breath was light against her ear. He was a snorer, apparently.
She gradually lifted her head from his chest to gaze at his sleeping face. One firm arm was draped over the small of her back. His partially bent knee acted as a guard to keep her from tipping over in the seat they'd slept on. Shera's eyes flicked up to the absence of the usual tense in his brows. When he was asleep, Cid actually looked how young she assumed he was.
God, he was so attractive. What in the world was his interest in her?
She nibbled her lips, still tender from how long they'd been kissing last night. Shera noticed the hickey she'd given him on his neck and inwardly lectured herself in her mother's tone of voice. Maybe now was not the time for that. What time was it, anyway?
"I don't mean to intrude…"
Shera bolted upright. Cid's snoring abruptly clogged with her sudden movement. She could feel his breathing shift with his chest. He grunted, smacked his lips, and sat up beneath her.
"Um, hello."
"We kinda have to make some room in the warehouse so…" Robin glared at the both of them from below. It was a steady glower; enough to make Shera uncomfortable.
"Fuck off. I'm payin' to keep my plane here like everyone else."
"That's just like you, Highwind. Very sweet." Robin rolled up the sleeves of his working jump suit. "Maybe your assistant here has some better sense, or have you zapped her brains incubus-ing around? Look, I hate to be mean, but we need to move the plane. President's son'll need to keep his private jet here."
"The president's son is coming? Why not him himself?" Cid pressed on Shera's hip, and she wriggled onto her feet.
"Maybe he doesn't care all that much. Not my business. My business is moving this plane."
"I'll move it my damn self." Cid snapped. He snagged his jacket from the back of a chair and ushered Shera out. He slammed the door closed; shooting Robin a warning glare back. The space between them crackled.
Shera silently watched the exchange. She was really starting to wonder.
In light of the events, that I'm sure you're sure is to come, I'd like to mention that I'll being switching up and recontextualizing some of the original game dialogue. Just to keep things cohesive, and I mean, who really wants to read all of that over again word for word. Kinda boring.
Until next time!
Pop me a review if you enjoy so far. I love to hear thoughts and questions.
Cause it's going to get rough…