Fortunately for Yuffie, Tifa's trip to the Wutai Clan got extended which meant she did not have to deal with Tifa's impending scolding that was sure to come. The timing could not have been better since there were some police who still lurked around the area, and Tifa despised the police. The good news was that they were slowly dispersing as the days progressed as their criminal was nowhere to be found. So all in all, it was good for everyone. Except Vincent.

Yuffie had happened to overhear them complaining about the pointlessness of the search when she had to go pick up some more groceries. After all, if a blind, severely injured man hasn't turned up by now, it was safe to say he probably miraculously escaped or was dead in a ditch somewhere. What they were looking for now was probably his dead body; that way his death would be confirmed at least.

The rain had been a godsend, perhaps a sign of good fortune for Vincent, as it had washed away any potential scents that may have lingered on the streets of their little shanty town. The police had underestimated this search. They had been so confident in finding him due to his condition. It wasn't long before they began to realize just how wrong they had been. When they had finally brought out the search dogs, the rain had already fallen for a day and what had begun first as a light shower rapidly intensified into a heavy shower. Whatever trace of Vincent had been left on the street was now literally down the drain.

Yuffie had been giving him little updates of what was happening in the streets. She had not been quite sure if he appreciated it or not, but she had figured he would at least be interested in it considering he was the target of their judicial affection. Regardless of what she had informed him, he would always reply with a soft 'nn' or nothing, with nothing being the usual answer.

Oddly enough, she didn't mind his quiet responses. She first did mind them, thinking it was completely rude of him to ignore her like that. If he heard her, he could have at least nodded or answered vocally. After observing him, she realized his "no response" was actually a response.

His silent responses actually had the most miniscule changes in his demeanor. It was more of a change in the air around him than an actual physical one. She had however begun to wonder if she had been basically making excuses for a man who was indeed very selfish.

Today, she was hidden away in the laundry room. She wasn't doing anything in particularly out of the ordinary, only folding the laundry that had piled up along with Vincent's things. The one downside to the rain was that she couldn't hang her sheets up outside. She loved the way they smelled and the way they felt against her skin when they were dried in the sun. They became a physical embodiment of the sun's rays and the ocean breeze, smelling like the sunlight while each thread captured the ocean breeze, creating a softness and warmth no dryer could ever mimic.

But then, this was nice too. There was a peacefulness permeating in this room, though it had nothing to do with actually doing the laundry. Yuffie knew there were people who felt peace while doing the laundry or even doing the dishes, almost like a self-care mantra. Unfortunately, she was not one of those people. The peacefulness that embraced her was more from the privacy and the scent of fresh laundry.

With the washing machine churning away in the background, she could stand still and be absorbed in her thoughts without feeling like she was being too quiet or suspicious, especially from Vincent's perspective. Due to his condition, she couldn't help but feel suspicious of her own self when she was being too quiet, nevertheless this thought could be entirely one sided. Yuffie stifled a yawn as she reached inside the basket to grab her next article of clothing.

This one was heavy and nearly stretched above her head. The length and color immediately told her it was Vincent's. With a grunt, she dumped it onto ironing board she was using as a makeshift folding table. Her fingers curiously smoothed over the coat as they took in course and thick texture. The ends were tattered like the edges of a grunge teenager's overly long jeans, though she doubted the long tatters from the deliberate consequences of puberty-induced teenage angst.

Yuffie had thought the dark rusty red color of the trench coat was from the amount of blood it had soaked. Seeing it after a thorough wash, she realized this was the original color of the coat. The color was surprisingly rich even though the texture of the fabric informed her the coat was probably as old as it's master. She wondered just how much of the vibrancy of the coat was from the actual coat itself and not the stains of blood it had absorbed over the course of its long years.

For a supposed secret assassin, the trench coat was not very inconspicuous at all, most likely exposing its wearer to its enemies rather than concealing him unless he happened to be fighting in a field of red tulips. But then again, AVALANCHE was not a very inconspicuous organization when it came to their actions. Wherever they went, they happened to make a very big and angry statement, all the while somehow being very elusive from the authorities.

Yuffie folded the coat as evenly as she could and placed it in the pile designated as 'Vincent's', which was comprised of a worn out black button up shirt with a tear in the lower middle and some long black slacks. She had reluctantly given Vincent her favorite pair of grey sweatpants, a pair she had stolen from her ex-boyfriend some time ago back when she used to live in the city. He had been pretty tall too, she remembered, but even his height was no match for Vincent's, with the pants coming short of his ankles. Yuffie had snickered when she saw him in it, which had prompted a glare from Vincent.

It had only been a couple of days but she could feel herself getting drawn to Vincent. Was this what they referred to as Stockholm Syndrome? Not that she or Vincent was a hostage by any means. It was more likely due to them being around each other 24/7. One thing was obvious, she was very curious about him.

She wondered how he felt, not physically of course but emotionally. From a glance, he seemed cold to her but that was far from the truth. He was just very indifferent, not to others but to himself which did not equate to being emotionless per say. He just seemed like the type of person who did not exhibit his emotions outwardly; he was a man who was very much in control of his emotions.

Yuffie stepped out with his folded items in her arms and set them beside him. "The top one is your shirt but it has a large rip. I didn't know if you wanted to throw it away or not, so I kept it for you. I can try and repair it if you'd like. The second one from the top are your slacks and the bottom is your trench coat."

He merely nodded and she took that as a thank you.

"Also," she started carefully, "I found this in the pocket of your trench coat." Yuffie placed the slim black cell phone in his palm. "I'm sorry but I checked your phone, I didn't see anything since it was locked. I saw that it had a 1% battery life left and I figured I should tell you since you can't see. You may be able to get a text through, maybe if you're lucky you could manage a call."

The silence was unbearable. He stared at the phone with such an intensity that she nearly forgot he couldn't actually see it. Yuffie wondered if she shouldn't have mentioned the phone and stuck it below his pillow as if it had dropped from his trench coat. Or maybe, she shouldn't have washed his clothes but they were beginning to stink especially with all the blood. She wondered if he would kill her now or threaten her with his gun since she saw too much, but it was just a phone! And it was locked!

Yuffie yelped when he thrusted the cell phone into her chest. At least his arm was healing, she thought and looked at the phone and then at him in confusion.

"Can I trust you?" he asked. He was looking at her now. The question was not really a question for his validation as his unwavering eyes indicated he had already made the decision. It was more for her and letting her decide, if she was willing to accept his trust of her.

"Yes," she said firmly.

He didn't waste another second. "Password is 33216281217482. Quickly go into messages and find the name CS and send a text to that person."

"What do I say?"

"Dogwood."

She took a deep breath before opening the phone quickly. One percent battery life was always a gamble. You never knew how much of the one percent was actually there; you might have the entire one or perhaps just half of that. It meant there was no time to fumble with the phone. Any delayed action or pointless pressing meant a waste of that one percent battery life. She flipped opened the phone and after typing in the long passcode, she saw that there was a shortcut to the messages and pressed the button. Then she scrolled down to CS and typed it in. As she keyed in the last letter, the screen darkened and without a second to lose she pressed SEND.

Sending…

Sending…

SENT!

The second the SENT screen appeared, the screen blacked out completely.

"I think it went through, it said SENT before the phone died." Yuffie handed the phone back to him. "By the way, what does dogwood mean?"

"It means safe."

She stared at him and swallowed back the lump in her throat.

She was reminded time and time again that being blind didn't mean your eyes were dead. He stared with such vigor and power, she felt like the gravity from his eyes dragged her towards him. It reminded her of the night they laid eyes on each other.

"I trust you, Yuffie," he said quietly.

Yet it wasn't like the night she had met him. No, this time there was a warmth she never experienced with him before other than that time when he waited through her panic attack with him holding her wrist. She knew they had established a small amount of trust by revealing their names back then, but this couldn't compare to that. Whatever led him to decide to trust her to this extent, she wasn't even sure as well, but she was eternally grateful for it since it meant he was letting himself be exposed, and this was definitely not a man who would do that so easily given his profession.

Something swelled inside her and made her chest feel full, leaving her strangely breathless and a little dizzy. "I…uh...I'll go make some lunch! I managed to get some bread the other day so we can have a little something different than rice and soup like we usually have!" She chattered on as she escaped towards the kitchen though not without stubbing her toe against one of the beams with a painful thump.

Yuffie hissed with another colorful word as she hopped into the kitchen with a stubbed toe. "I'm okay," she groaned through her teeth.

Once again, her home was now filled with her chatter and the usual sounds of the kitchen. These were the sounds Vincent had gotten used to the past five days. The sounds of her inability to close the cabinets gently and instead letting them slam through their momentum, or the almost customary sounds of her rummaging through her disorganized drawers. Of course, then after a couple minutes, he would hear her taste something and if it was good, a happy hum and then another taste to validate the deliciousness once more. If it was bad, she'd stay quiet or a small frustrated puff of air would follow after the taste test.

Yuffie was too busy to notice Vincent's relaxed sigh as he leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes while the corners of his lips turned up in the faintest way.

With the police now finally gone, Yuffie had the door to the deck slid all the way opened. He seemed to like the ocean breeze, and she did too. She sensed that the air probably got too stuffy and stale especially with him being inside all the time. Before she would have it opened just a smidge but now it was fully open with the ocean in view.

He slowly regained his strength over the next couple of days and she continued to change his bandages diligently. The worst of his injuries were all that remained now. His abdomen and his temple were particular areas Yuffie continued to keep a close eye on and kept cleaned. She was amazed and relieved that he didn't suffer from any infections especially considering the wound on his stomach when he had first showed up and was covered in debris and concrete dust. Truly, the gods were on his side.

Yuffie caught him often standing and walking around with a hand against the wall when she would watch TV. She didn't help him physically and instead watched him. Whenever he would get too close to something like a side table or standing lamp, she would warn him a couple of steps ahead. There was a mutual understanding between them. He needed to do this for himself, and she knew he was the type to learn more efficiently and effectively if he did it alone as he learned at his own pace. Granted, it was also a perfect chance for her to really take a look at him in his entirety.

She truly grasped just how big and tall he was when he stood. He loomed over nearly everything she owned except the fridge, though he was close. The house felt full when he stood.

When he stood, the visual of her sweatpants on him was less funny now. The fact that the length was so short on him was still very humorous, but the humor dwindled when she observed with wide eyes how the waistband snaked around his toned waist and the soft fabric went smoothly over his surprisingly thick thighs and calves as the pants closed around just above his ankles. He definitely, definitely should have been a model.

Yuffie would catch herself gazing almost hungrily after him, a blaring self-evidence of her painfully single life. After all, she was a woman too, a woman with needs. Even though those needs may not always had been forefront, they had their moments when they reminded her that they existed inside her. Like today, for example.

It wasn't that Vincent was this special sexual beam of masculinity that only she was attracted to. She just had a thing for tall guys. Tall guys with abs. Just like her last boyfriend, who was a big mistake. Well, not a completely huge mistake. He was a good boyfriend when it came to her needs. He was definitely there for her sexual needs though he was a little rusty when it came to her emotional needs, but back then, she didn't mind it all that much. She figured they could always work on that together. After all, they loved each other, right?

Christ, that had been five years ago.

When she needed him the most, he wasn't there. When she needed reassurance, love, security, he gave her a confused look and "can you stop acting so crazy?"

Yuffie sighed. She remembered feeling so betrayed by his reaction that she left him too along with everything else in her life. They all belonged to the city after all. Biting her lower lip, Yuffie slapped herself when she noticed herself being greedy with the staring which the sound regrettably caused Vincent to look in her direction with a somewhat confused expression.

"Mosquito," she mumbled hastily, pretending to catch another one in the air. That was so smooth.

Yuffie focused back to his walking. She knew he was smart. After all, he was an assassin. If all those spy movies had taught her anything, it's that assassins were very smart. They were intuitive about their body and their surroundings; they also had very good memory and she assumed he did too.

He proved her theory right when she noticed his footsteps. They were much more confident in their weight and placement as time progressed, and she could see the anticipation in his body language when he got closer to the obstacles in front of him. She wondered if being able to at least faintly see the colors of his environment aided him through this process but she found her answer when she realized he walked with his eyes closed.

Being able to see the colors might not actually be very helpful considering he could not make out the exact outline of each object. In fact, they could be more distracting. Without a definite outline of his settings he must have felt like being in a room completely hand painted by children. It would be dizzying at best, which is probably why he closed his eyes. Or that's at least what she speculated.

He now sat on the couch as she aired out all the sheets from his makeshift bed. As always, he had the news on today. And as usual from the news, there was more politics, more deceit. She tuned it out of course. It was the same old same old.

She was now again alone with her thoughts.

It's been almost a week since Vincent came into her life, and she was bewildered at how fast he fit into her daily life. He let her talk or ramble on about something insignificant like how ridiculous the price of milk bread was and he would just plainly listen. Of course, she wasn't quite sure if he was just too polite to tell her to shut up or he actually enjoyed listening to her trying to comprehend the economics behind food pricing. She chuckled to herself at the thought. A polite assassin was quite humorous, but an assassin listening to someone's conspiracy theory about food pricing? Hilarious.

Nevertheless, Vincent was a nice change for her. The house was habitually lethally quiet, often luring her to sink deep into her own thoughts which she often tried to avoid. It would be so quiet she could taste the staleness in the air.

Now, Yuffie just talked and talked. She felt like herself again, her old self, to a certain extent. She had wondered if this was why Tifa had asked her if she had wanted to come live with her after Yuffie had moved out of the city following THAT incident. By living with her, there would have been someone who could distract her from becoming too absorbed with her depressing thoughts, or someone who could actively encourage her or force her to go do this or that, to create healthy habits to imitate a normal life. The feeling that someone would be there for her in a moment's notice should she ever need them. That sort of comfort when you realize you're not completely alone. The kind of comfort she sought from her ex-boyfriend but didn't get.

Yuffie shook her head. She knew at the time she needed that space, to think about what happened and to come to acceptance of what happened. She couldn't help wonder nonetheless if she could have retained much of her old self had she taken up Tifa's offer back then. Probably. But in the end she didn't and that was the important part, regardless of how many what if's. Furthermore, she had an obligation to remind herself that she did not need to look for that emotional comfort in Vincent. The ending to that story was predictable. She would be once again be stuck with an unsatisfying tall guy with abs.

Still, Yuffie figured it couldn't hurt to rely on him a little bit, just sort of as a friend who was passing by, who also had happened to kill a lot of politicians and was trying to upset the government. She sighed. It was obvious this wasn't going to work. The best thing to do, she thought, was to treat him like he was a visitor who was just happening to stay at the guesthouse she was running. After all, she still had Tifa as busy as she was.

It was around 3pm when she got the call from Tifa, saying she was back in town. The call was brief, both of them knowing they had much to talk about in person. Yuffie quickly changed out of her usual leggings and slipped into a pair of faded jeans and slipped on a thick knitted cardigan. The wind had picked up some cold air and it was a bit chilly outside.

"Hey Vincent, I have to go pick up a package from my friend. It's the friend I told you about, the one you can trust."

He nodded, though he didn't look quite happy. Not that he ever looked happy but you could tell his face was a little different than his usual stoic expression.

She felt a little guilty but she knew they had no choice. She needed the clothes and going to the city, well that was a little bit impossible for her.

This wasn't his first time being alone. He was home alone for an hour when she went to buy some groceries. Or that day when she finally went to her job where she helped out the local clinic, which confirmed his suspicions that she had a medical background. Luckily, the clinic wasn't too terribly busy due to the small and dispersed population out here so she was allowed to call in sick.

Yuffie made it a habit to tell him exactly where she was going to go and how long each outing would take. It was painfully obvious how much trust she wanted to establish with him, which is one of the reasons why he had given her the cell phone to text to Cloud. Her intent didn't come to him as conniving or desperate. She wasn't trying to establish the trust for herself, but it was so that he could feel at ease and feel safe, to reassure him that he had nothing to worry; it was a very unselfish thing to do.

It was also the way she was considerate to his blindness, the efforts she made to tell him every single thing that was around him, the way she let him listen to the news when it was apparent that she didn't like the news as she couldn't sit still when he listened to it or how he could feel her tense up when the news came on. The way she had helped him even though he pointed a gun to her and fully had every means to shoot her if he deemed it appropriate. The way she seemed to go out of her way to be so considerate to him, a stranger. He figured that warranted a thank you of some sorts though he at first wasn't sure how to illustrate that. It wasn't as if he had access to his money or he could help her out physically. He definitely wasn't the type to make a handmade thank you card.

That's when he realized what he could give her was an ease of mind. An answer to how desperately she wanted for him to trust her so he did not have to worry about being betrayed. He was wondering how to display this when at that moment she had given him his cell phone. It was highly amusing when he saw just how happy it made her as she scrambled away from him to hide her enthusiasm.

Per usual, Yuffie made sure all the doors and windows were locked. The curtains and blinds were shut tight to evade any outsiders from trying to take a peek inside her home. And per usual, she left a bowl of snacks and a glass of water beside him, which frankly started to make him feel like a dog. That part was a bit bothersome to him even though she didn't have that intention. He could only hope that his wounds would heal enough quickly so he could build up his stamina and find a way to reach Cloud and get out of here. After all, the faster he got out of here, the safer it was for everyone, especially this girl, who seemed to give too much of herself for others.

Yuffie snuggled closer to her cardigan as she climbed up the rocky hill. The breeze was cool on her face and she was glad she brought it. The last thing they needed was for her to get sick. The road beneath her was uneven and overrun with stone fragments and shallow angry holes that seemed to be bashed by someone who went overzealous with a hammer. The state of the pavement wasn't something new to her since she walked these broken roads hundreds of times yet the somberness of it all never left. If only they had cared a little bit more about the people out here…

As she reached the top of the hill, she could see Tifa's bar peering out in the distance. A large heavy duty truck, resembling a military grade camper more than a truck, was parked to the side as Tifa's staff hurried to unload the boxes and crates.

"Hey, Yuffie! Long time no see!" A large burly man with dark hair waved at her with one hand as the other held a large crate on his shoulder. He was the tallest out of Tifa's staff and the biggest too with muscles that resembled boulders on a mountain. His wide toothy grin revealed his pearly whites, a stark contrast to his bronzed skin.

"It's only been a week, Barrett," Yuffie yelled back with a teasing tone as she approached him. "Miss me that much?"

"You know it!" The man named Barrett laughed heartily and set the large crate down with care. "Tifa's gone to do some inventory out in the back room. I'll let her know you're here."

"Thanks," Yuffie said with a nod, and returned his smile.

Barrett stared at her, just a little too long that Yuffie tilted her head curiously. He placed his large hand on her shoulder, giving her a waft of his familiar aroma of pinewood and cigars. "Is everything all right with you? Tifa was pretty pissed after that phone call."

"You heard?" Yuffie squeaked in surprise. It would be very, very bad if Barrett knew about Vincent.

"I was just there for the aftermath," Barrett assured, getting the hint that there was something about that conversation she wanted to keep secret. "She was not in the best mood that day after that phone call."

Instinctively, she bit her lower lip, feeling a little guilty. "I'm okay, I just … it was …"

He cut her off swiftly with another pat on her back. "Whatever it is, just make sure you take care of yourself. That's all that matters to Tifa, and me, and everyone else here, Yuffie."

She swallowed hard. She didn't regret her decision in helping out Vincent, but she was starting to regret involving everyone into her mess. She held back the sigh that lingered on her tongue and instead nodded firmly with a solid smile. "I promise. I'm really sorry to worry you!"

Barrett nodded in return and didn't press further. "Go ahead and wait inside, I'll go get Tifa now."

As big as he was, he easily maneuvered between the busy staff members and their stack of boxes like a cat. Yuffie watched for a few moments, her eyes lingering on all the items they managed to acquire. Most of these crates didn't hold just the variations of alcohol that a typical bar needed. Some of these were fresh produce, others were hygiene products, medicine herbs, and the like. Anything the people needed, Tifa made sure she got them. Of course, she didn't charge much. Yuffie always forgot if there was even a set price sometimes with the way Tifa handled things, though she supposed all the business calculations made sense in Tifa's mind. The bar was still here after all. Still, other factors played an important role for Tifa. She traveled far to vendors outside of the city who would offer her many of the items for a cheaper price. The long distance was an issue but she took advantage of that by having a delivery company on the side, often working for different clans or independent towns and groups outside of the city's jurisdiction as she transported goods and often heavy machinery. Lucky for Tifa, she had a great staff who were loyal and skilled to help her alleviate the stress of running three different businesses.

The bell jingled when she pushed through the door and saw Red, another equally rough looking fellow. His hair matched his name, a bright red Mohawk that resembled flames. He wasn't quite as dark as Barrett nor did he match his size; Red was much leaner and slightly shorter with an earthy skin tone. His eyes stood out the most for what would have been a pair of amber orbs had it not for the gruesome gash that struck through his right eye, an old battle scar.

"Run and Coke, Yuffie?" Red asked, already reaching for a glass.

"Yes please," Yuffie replied and laid her head against the wooden counter. She finally released the sigh that she held back in front of Barrett.

Red chuckled softly, his low voice almost like a deep purr. She had always liked his voice. "Sounds like you're in trouble with Tifa."

"Is it that obvious?"

He did that chuckle again. "To everyone but you." He handed her the drink and she graciously downed half of it. "I happened to overhear her conversation on the phone while we were with the Wutai. I have good hearing, you know."

Yuffie raised her brows in agreement. Good was an understatement. He could probably hear what Vincent was doing at her house.

"Before you start arguing with Tifa about why you made the decision you made, listen to her side of the situation, all right?"

"Yes dad," she answered sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"I already have two kids, I don't need a third idiot to lecture," Red said with a grin.

"But they love me as their big sister," Yuffie pouted with the biggest innocent eyes she could muster.

"Well, don't look now big sister, but here comes your bigger sister." Red led Yuffie with his eyes though she didn't have to follow where he was looking to know who was behind her. Instinctively, Yuffie straightened her back and lowered her elbows on the table.

"Hey Red, can you take over the rest of the inventory?"

"Will do, boss," he answered and patted Yuffie's shoulder, telling her to stay strong.

Tifa slid into the seat next to Yuffie with a large bag in her hand.

"So how was the trip?" Yuffie asked. It was a good start.

Tifa smiled brightly, causing Yuffie to be even more suspicious of her. "It was good. Supplies were in check, and the Wutai clan is doing fine. Your dad says hi."

"He's doing good?"

"Better than you," Tifa answered with a look.

"Better than me?"

"Better than someone who let a complete stranger with a gun bleeding all over her floor in her apartment, wouldn't you say?" Tifa now stared at her with full force, her toned arms crossed against her chest.

"ah…."

"Mmhm. You owe me an explanation Yuffie Kisaragi. You know how worried I was about you when you hung up like that? You tell me there's a murderer on the loose and then say you need clothes for a man! Somehow I couldn't help but think perhaps maybe…. that those two situations were related. But then, I thought this is Yuffie. So naturally I knew for A FACT that they were related. Now, tell me. Everything."

Yuffie's color drained and took another sip of what was left of the rum and coke. "All right, but you have to promise not to interrupt me and also to listen with an open mind."

There was a brief moment of hesitation but thankfully Tifa nodded.

So, Yuffie began her story and told Tifa everything: everything from the fake shower to throw off the policemen to the gun to the panic attack.

Her finger nervously tapped against the glass cup she held in her hand, waiting to be bombarded with yelling and for how completely unreasonable and reckless she was.

"Are you okay? Do you need more medication for your panic attacks? I thought they had completely subsided."

She faltered a bit, not expecting her reaction to be THAT. She nervously cleared her throat as she prepared to answer. "I, I'm okay. They're mostly gone, and I have a bottle left in case the worst comes," Yuffie assured Tifa with a convincing smile. "The panic attack wasn't bad, I assure you. I didn't even need the meds! He helped me through it."

"You have to let me know if it gets worse, all right? Your dad said he has some other medicine that might work better for you." The worry never left Tifa's face and this bothered Yuffie quite a bit. Tifa was prettier when she smiled, when she laughed, when she was angry at her friends' idiotic hijinks, when she was passionate about her work. It pained Yuffie to see her best friend have that shadow looming over her face, as if she had a personal responsibility over Yuffie's mental health.

A wave of guilt washed over Yuffie in an instant. "I'm fine, I swear. It was just unexpected. But everything okay now! He hasn't tried to kill me, I haven't had a panic attack, we watch a lot of TV together, it's all good!"

Her friend didn't respond and seemed to be mulling over the details, silently judging whether or not if this Vincent Valentine was trustworthy or even safe. If he was truly from AVALANCHE, there was no need for him to harm Yuffie unless they really thought of her as a liability, so much so that it was worth killing her. But wouldn't that be against their philosophy?

Tifa sighed and stole Yuffie's drink. She never had any personal or political vendetta against AVALANCHE. She actually supported them in a way though frankly she never liked violence. But she knew, sometimes you just had to fight your way to get what you want especially when it came to people's rights and state of living.

"He trusts me." Yuffie broke Tifa's trail of thought. "He trusts me enough to let me use his phone."

"Phone?"

She nodded. "I… I know I can be foolish, but I'm not stupid. Okay, I can be stupid sometimes but I know this for a fact: Vincent's had this phone for a while. You can tell by the scratch marks and the worn off key pads. He could probably text without even having to look, I know I certainly can on my own phone. But he specifically gave the phone to me to text to his friend. He trusted me to text to him a code and his phone had only 1% battery life. I want to believe in that trust, Tifa."

Their eyes locked with each other and neither faltered, holding each other's true and steady gaze. Tifa was the one to finally break and heavily sighed. To let Yuffie text at a dire time like that, when he knew he wouldn't get another chance to contact his comrades, he must have trusted her greatly.

"If you trust him, then I'll trust him. For now," Tifa said. It was almost sweet the way the uneasiness melted away from Yuffie, and she returned to her happy loose self. "I'll always be wary of him though. You have to respect that."

"Of course! I'm really sorry Tifa for dragging you into my mess."

"You did drag me."

"Oh."

"You did drag me, but I don't mind. I like knowing about your mess, I like knowing what's going on with you. Though, that doesn't mean I can't judge whether or not your messes are caused by stupid decisions."

Here it came, and she managed to remember Red's advice and Yuffie obliged.

"It was a very dangerous situation Yuffie," she said softly as her hand gently clasped over her shoulder. "You really could have gotten killed…TWICE! If that man hadn't killed you, it would have been those men in black if they for a second thought you were hiding him. You know exactly how they are." Tifa didn't like mentioning that incident but in this case she needed to remind Yuffie of that fear to know this wasn't a situation to take lightly. Tifa could feel that same panic she had felt when Yuffie had first hung up on her that night, and she desperately pushed it down. Her friend had gone through so much, she just wished things would be peaceful for her. "You are really lucky things went the way it did or else you'd be dead. Please don't make such a careless mistake like that again."

"It wasn't careless to me, Tifa," Yuffie said softly, though her words were as clear as day with a strength Tifa hadn't seen before. "I made a conscious decision to help him. He was badly injured, and my duty as a nurse kicked in. Then, when I saw those men in those black suits…" She paused for a moment, fighting the sob in her throat that was waiting to come out. "I knew I couldn't let them take him. It's because I know exactly how they are that I chose to hide him."

A moment of silence passed by between them. The only source of sound was the indistinct chatter outside by Tifa's staff as they hauled the crates and boxes.

"I'm sorry for my choice of words," Tifa said quietly, not looking up.

"No I know what you meant, I just…I just needed to let you know out loud…and for myself as well," Yuffie explained with a gentle smile. "I know that you care, and it means the world to me that you're looking out for me. I know that I need a slap on the wrist sometimes."

Tifa gave Yuffie's hand a tight squeeze, causing her to look up. "I'll help you both in any way I can. He's still badly injured, right?"

"Well, thanks to my awesome nursing skills, he's actually healing quite well," Yuffie grinned proudly. Tifa laughed.

"Well, that's good to hear. The faster he heals, the faster he can get back to his buddies. Before I forget, here are his clothes." She pulled up the large bag.

"This is a lot!" Yuffie exclaimed excitedly as she inspected the clothing. Tifa was always a step ahead of her: she had gotten him the basic necessities and more. There were a couple of cotton t-shirts and long sleeves amongst the underwear and socks. There were even a couple of sweatpants and regular pants as well. What the most distinguishing feature of all of them was that they were mostly earth tones or dark greys and blacks. All of them were colors that didn't grasp attention, and if need be, blended easily in the dark.

"Let me know if you need a different size, I can ask Barrett to exchange them if they don't fit."

"I'll let you know after he tries them on. Thanks Tifa." Yuffie held her tight affectionately and Tifa returned her hug with equal affection. "Thank you so much for helping him."

"I'm helping YOU, remember that. The faster he's gone, the safer you are, Yuffie. If there is anything else going on, let me know right away."

"I definitely will! No more secrets!"

"You should head home now, he's probably worried where you are." Tifa was afraid if Yuffie was gone for too long, the man would become suspicious of her and what she might have been up to, unbeknownst to Tifa that Yuffie's already left him alone a couple of times.

With that, Yuffie left with the bag of clothes in her hand as Tifa watched her leave from her seat. She prayed this whole thing would blow over quickly. She didn't want to see Yuffie in another situation again like last time. But as always, Tifa was one step ahead of the game, and she knew this would not blow over quickly or easily. She sighed and slid off the bar stool. She needed to start getting ready for the impending storm.

A/N:

My thought of Vincent has always been that he is not cold or emotionless, but just very reserved due to his job even in the game. And of course as he makes friends and goes on his adventure, he becomes more honest and more responsive to people. I dont ever think hes the intentionally cold person (unless its towards someone evil) because of the fact that he has not much social experience and all social experiences has been with very very asshole assholes LOL like Hojo. His words can sometimes be cold but that could be due to his lack of knowledge of social cues and such

So I never tended to like portrayals of him as this cold unfeeling assassin stereotype (like how they do a lot with Battousai in Rurouni Kenshin)

So I do apologize if you don't like this type of Vincent but he's always been the Vincent I always thought he was.