Chapter Eight

Some one night stands ended quietly. Others badly. A few actually turn out okay – as in both the guy and the girl go their separate ways, well-sated, pleased, and enjoying the memory. Claire figured that if she and Vincent had had a one night stand it would have been the last kind. The kind that made for good memories.

But of course, in order to be a one-night stand a few things had to happen. One, it had to be at night. They'd had their fling mid-morning. Two it had to be, well one. After it was over, both were supposed to go their separate ways. Instead, she was rudely awakened by Vincent sometime after dark.

He silently handed her a bag. "Clothes."

"Heh?" She blinked sleep encrusted eyes at him, noting from the faint lighting that he was completely dressed. She rubbed her face. Blinked some more.

Vincent proceeded to take a slip of red out of the bag, followed by a pair of billowy pants. "For you to wear," he said.

Claire eyed the clothes suspiciously. "Really?"

He nodded, turning away. "We have to keep moving. We've wasted enough time."

Claire picked up the top. It looked like a red bra with an off the shoulder look. "Yeah, and we hate wasting time," she said, tossing a barb of sarcasm into the statement. She put the top on, half-expecting it to slip and fall off. But it didn't. Somehow the thing clung to her breasts, giving them support without a real bra, and somehow not falling in spite of the fact that the straps were on her arms rather than her shoulders.

She glanced at Vincent, and noted that he was standing on the balcony.

"Quiet bugger," she muttered. She found a pair of plain red underwear at the bottom of the bag. She pulled them on, half expecting them to fit like granny panties. Instead they were a silky-cotton and hugged her buns rather well. She sighed and proceeded to pull on the pants. They were almost sheer, tight at the waist and cinched at her ankles. She checked herself out in the mirror, expecting to see a fashion disaster. Instead, she sort of looked like a red-haired Jasmine.

Before Umbrella, she would have appreciated out the outfit more. "I'm not going to like fighting in this," she said.

Vincent glanced back, ducking his head so his mouth was hidden by his cape. "Sorry. It's all that was available." He strolled up to her. Paused.

Claire knew what was going to happen next. He was going to walk by her. But she wasn't in the mood to be left, so she started out the door.

After a second, Vincent followed.

Outside the Lifestream festival was in full swing. Claire hopped onto Cloud's bike.

"Driving?" Vincent asked.

She shot him a smile. "I can't handle this beast alone for about as long as absolutely necessary. And I could probably handle it with you riding shotgun if the need came up. But I would never volunteer." She patted the side of the bike. "It's a good bike, but it isn't for girls."

A panel popped open in agreement.

Claire grinned. She was expecting that from the bike by now. "What's in these compartments anyway?" She ran her hand over a variety of handles. "Do they make the bike go faster or something? Maybe turn into an airplane?"

Vincent laughed. "No. Nothing like that." He grabbed one of the handles, and pulled, and it came free. "Just a sword."

Claire's eyes widened. "A sword?"

"Seven, actually," a soft voice said from somewhere in the darkness. Claire spun around on the bike, and spotted Cloud in his purple get-up walking toward them. He pulled a sword from a holster on his back, and slipped it into a slot on the bike. The compartment closed.

"Cloud," Vincent said. He handed the sword to the blond ex-SOLDIER.

"Vincent." Cloud stuck the sword into the ground, half leaning on it. "So. I caught up at last." He stole a brief glance at Claire. "You're in some trouble, you know."

Claire shrugged. "It had to be done."

"Then you'll understand if I have to bring you in."

"We're actually going somewhere," Vincent said. "I called Reeve –"

"Not like that," Cloud said. "If you say she's fine, I'll believe you. We're more concerned with what she can tell us. We're having outbreaks all over the Planet."

"The J-virus?"

"Jenova," Cloud said. "And we have reason to believe that you've been infected."

Claire took a deep breath. "So quarantine."

"Yeah."

She slipped off his bike, walking toward him.

"Dr. Shaului will take a look at you. See if we can't fix the problem."

Vincent snorted. "Cloud, she isn't going to be an experiment and she doesn't need to be in no damn quarantine."

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Then where does she need to be?"

"With me."

Claire figured she was more surprised than Cloud by the statement, but it was close. Of course, when Vincent swung onto the bike, pulling Claire after him and leaving Cloud in a, well, cloud of dust, Cloud was more shocked.

She wrapped her arms around Vincent. "Floor it," she whispered. "Get us the hell out of here."

They drove all night, and as morning neared, they neared another small town. This one had some massive apparatus jutting into the sky. "Rocket Town," Vincent explained. "Let me do the talking."

"Since you're so good at it," Claire said. They roared the bike up to a small cottage with a fenced in yard.

"No one's ever accused me of that before."

"I doubt that they would," she said. She got off the biked, dusting herself. Surprisingly the outfit traveled well and still looked vibrant in spite of the dirt and wind. Vincent looked a bit worse for wear though. His hair, probably a perpetual mess, was in a greater tangle than normal.

He pushed open the gate, sweeping through. Claire, looking around the town, spotted a familiar duo entering what looked like a bar. When she looked back, Vincent was holding the gate for her.

"Is there some reason I shouldn't be talking?"

He coughed. "I don't want Cid to get the wrong idea about you."

Cid the Cigarette. He'd been at the bar. "Maybe I should just wait out here."

Vincent hesitated, then nodded. "I won't be too long." He opened the door to the house without knocking and walked in. Claire caught an earful of cussing and swearing about people just barging into a man's home. Then something about why Vincent hadn't announced himself sooner. Then the door was closed.

She lingered for a moment or two, wondering what Vincent would say about her. Then she hurried to the bar.

Inside it didn't take long to spot Reno and Rude. They were at the bar, a couple of pints in front of each. Reno was hollering about some assignment up north and how he was going to freeze his dick off if he had to piss . . .

Claire made a face. Then approached. "Hey."

"Scam," Reno said without looking. "I ain't the type that picks up ditzy girls in bars."

"Cool. Cuz' I ain't a ditz and I don't want to get picked up by you. I just thought I'd report in briefly and explain why I'm not in Kalm anymore."

Reno spun on his chair, grin spreading across his face. "Claire."

Rude adjusted his glasses, and continued drowning himself in cheap beer.

"What brings you here?"

"Cloud's bike."

"Cloud's . . . bike?" Reno repeated.

"Yeah, I stole it."

"You . . . stole it?"

"Yeah. But I'm traveling with Vincent Valentine right now –"

"With . . . Vincent?"

"Yeah. We ditched Cloud at some small town Lifestream Festival."

"You . . . ditched Cloud?"

"Yeah. We had to. Vincent and I are going to Umbrella's headquarters."

"You're . . . going with Vincent?"

"Yes," Claire said, starting to get exasperated. "Umbrella is turning people into zombies."

"Zombies?"

"Yeah, zombies." She stuck her hands into the air and moaned. "You know, walking dead."

"I know what a zombie is," Reno snapped, pushing her hands down. "But what do you know about them? And who's Umbrella?"

"New health company with a red and white logo . . ."

"Bella Health – we'll make you feel better? Those guys?"

"Yep. Their product turns you into a zombie."

Rude spit his beer out. "What? I use their head polish."

Claire and Reno stared at him for a moment. "No comment," they said at the same time. Then turned back to each other. Claire briefly sketched what she knew, and ended with, "I thought the Turks might want to know. You said your goals are to make the Planet a better place, and it would definitely be better without Umbrella."

"Yeah," Reno agreed. He nudged Rude who was cleaning his head with beer. "Dude, if you haven't turned into a zombie yet, you're probably not going to."

"Right," Claire stood up, thinking about her own infection. Maybe it was just slow-acting.

Reno stood at the same time.

"I got to get back to Vincent before he notices I'm gone."

"Too late," Reno said, pointing to the door. "Don't tell him about us."

Claire seen Vincent coming through the door, followed by Cid. She glanced back, about to ask Reno exactly what she should say, but both had scuttled away with record speed.

"There you are," Vincent said. "I thought you were going to wait."

"I thought I'd get a drink," she said.

"No time," Cid said. "Cloud will probably be here any minute."

"How? He's got no car? Or bike . . ."

"He's probably borrowing one," Cid said. "And anyway, you'll want to travel during the daylight hours. It's easier to navigate."

"Navigate?"

"Yep," Cid said. He motioned her out of the bar. She followed him back to his home, and noticed that a rusty blue truck was parked by Cloud's bike. And the bike looked like it had been locked down to prevent sudden escapes. There weren't any keys in the truck either.

"Gosh, he's fast," Claire muttered. "He must have been at our heels the whole time."

"Probably," Vincent muttered. "Will you distract him?"

Cid grumbled. "Why do I have to #(*&*^ talk to him?"

Vincent put an arm around Claire, drawing her close. "I'll fight him if I have to."

Cid grinned crookedly. "Why didn't'cha say so?" He threw his shoulders back. "She's by the water. But you better hurry. I won't be able to stall him long."

Vincent nodded. "Thanks."

Cid proceeded to the front door. Arriving he threw it out, and let out a long string of curses about people coming to visit while he was away and not getting any tea . . . The door closed.

Vincent proceeded to use his claw to slice the tires on the truck. As for Cloud's bike, he dropped something into the gas tank. Then grabbed Claire. "Run."

Run.

That was the last thing she expected, but they made a mad dash for the sea. Along the way, monsters popped out of nowhere. Sometimes they stayed and fought. Most times they kept running. The land was flat and visibility was great. After a while, she could see Cloud in the distance, either rushing after them or making mince meat out of the monster that gave up chasing them.

Then they were at the beach. Her breath was escaping her chest in thin gasps. She pushed harder, seeing at last their goal. A small bi-plane resting in the water. Vincent launched himself at it, shoving it into the water with inhuman strength. Claire added her human strength, pushing with all her might.

The plane entered deeper water. Vincent hopped in effortlessly and pulled her after him. He slipped into the pilot's seat, turning a key. The engine roared to life. The rotors started thrumming. Claire expected them to taxi forward and take off into the sky. Instead they broke away from the coast.

She glanced back, seeing Cloud shaking his head at the shore. They'd been very close to getting caught. She gave him a jaunty wave. He saluted her in return. "Will he follow us?"

"Maybe," Vincent said. He pulled himself out of the cockpit and onto the opposite wing. "This is the Tiny Bronco. It used to be a plane, but now it's a boat."

"That explains why we're not flying."

Vincent didn't answer, just stretched out, yawning. "I'm going to get some sleep. I programmed a course to the Temple of the Ancients. It should take a couple of days to get there."

"Fun," Claire said. She stretched out on her wing, staring up at the blue sky. "Until we get there."

"Agreed," Vincent said.