Part 2: Palmer, Heidegger, Hojo, Tseng

The next day Cid came into the lunch room with a swollen nose stuffed with cotton pads. Cranky, he sat down opposite Kunsel.

"What happened to you?" the Second Class Soldier stared.

Cid sighed.

"We went ta the theater, he wanted ta see some play. Loveless, I think it was. Boring as hell. I fell asleep and woke up by him punching me in the face and walking out on me, all prissy."

"Huh. So I guess there will not be a second date, then."

"No! This time it will have ta be someone who shares my interests."

"Hmm…well, there's Palmer…"

"I'd rather jest be straight! Not him, not Heidegger and not that creepy scientist who looks at people like they're bloody guinea pigs."

"How about Tseng? You'd share work commitment."

Cid stroke his jaw.

"The wutai Turk, right? Well, he sure is pretty. And I like dark haired guys. Might be my kind of guy."

"I'll fix you up."

"Really?" Cid eyed him. "And how come a Second Class Soldier know the Turks so well, eh?"

"No need to be paranoid, captain." Kunsel smiled. "I'm not wearing a suit, am I?"

Two weeks later, Kunsel visited Cid at the hospital, brining him some cigs.

"How come I ain't surprised ya found out I was in here?" Cid muttered from the hospital bed, scratching his bandages but accepting the cigs.

"Rumors get around, captain. You don't need to be a Turk to hear them, at least not if you know where to listen. So what did you do this time?" He sighed as he sat down on the bed next to the irate pilot.

"Me! I didn't do anythin'! I went to visit him when he was working – bodyguard mission for some ShinRa hotshot."

"And?"

"And there was a gods-damned assassination attempt. Some freaking lunatic tried to shoot the director and…" Cid swore and fumbled with the lighter until Kunsel helped him. "…and Tseng fucking *pushes* me in front of the bullet!"

Kunsel winced.

"Ouch. I guess that kind of killed the romance."

"Screw the romance, it almost killed me! Pure luck the bullet only graced my ribs." Fuming and smoking, Cid added. "I draw the gods-damned line for work commitment when it bloody kills someone. No more Turks!"

"Right. There's this new guy in Urban City Developments. Reeve Tuetsi. A mechanic like you, only he specializes in fine, magical mechanics. And he's a dark haired one, like you prefer. Once you get out…"

"Fine, fine. Can't get much worse than this."

TBC

A/N: This is it. I almost quit last time because of the lack of response I get here. If these three new fics/updates recieve as poorly I'll just withdraw to my normal hunting grounds.