Author's notes: Hello again! I'm sorry for the long wait. I'm currently nursing a massive writers block, so that the reason for my delay. I'm trying my best to work through it, but its a slow process. Feedback and reviews are always much appreciated, and it helps me more than one might think.
So I would like to encourage those, who read my work, but don't review if they could sometime drop me some feedback from time to time. It's really helpful to me, and that way, I know what you guys think. It doesn't really take long to write a guest review, nor is it difficult :)
As for those who do review, Thank you! Cormag especially :)
Cucco:
Thanks for following my stories, and for reviewing!
I'm grateful for you pointing out errors, I will try to better myself. I however would like to request that, if you want to help with grammar, could you write more of an explanation, as to why or how I'm supposed to do instead of just saying what's wrong, and correcting it. I'd love to learn how to think correctly :)
Since I'm having writers block, I get more confused by seeing, to me, random grammar term names.
If you don't want, or have time, then I'd like you to focus on leaving feedback on the story, instead of grammar.
A race against time had begun. Every minute that went by, brought Tifa closer to deaths door: the poison slowly draining her of life.
Lazulis sewers were a complex maze of corridors which run beneath the whole city. Would Dagran be able to get out in time and save her, or would Zoran stand in his way?
Chapter 5: Mending Bridges.
''Please wake up...'' Dagran gently urged the woman in his arms, ''Fight this, Tifa.''
''She needs a doctor...'' Horace expertly pointed out and carefully laid his hand against her forehead. ''and soon before she develops a fever.''
''Duh, for stating the obvious...'' Zoran remarked with a click of his tongue. ''Figured that one out all by yourself, did you?''
Dagran who had momentarily forgotten about the other man now sent him a seethed glare. Which had the desired effect of making said man looking more cautious. ''You'd better learn to hold your tongue, or you might lose it. I'm still tempted to kill you, not bothering to listen to the reason you suddenly changed sides...''
''All right, all right! Point taken...'' Zoran answered in defeat, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. ''I'm not part of their gang. I'm a honest merchant nowadays, even own a store and everything.'' he paused and noticed the unconvinced look Dagran was giving him. ''Let me explain before giving me your judgement look!'' He snapped irritatedly before continuing with his story. ''I did however, know them from before, and that is a fact they are using against me. In exchange for them staying silent about my past ''indiscretions'' I agreed to help them with one last job.''
''Indiscretions is not a word I'd use for your past...'' Dagran commented spitefully while readjusting his hold on the unconscious fist fighter. He glanced over at Horace, who had been inspecting the map on the table. Their eyes met and he could easily see that Zoran's presence was making the archaeologist uneasy. He kept casting quick glances at the merchant every now and then. ''Is there a escape route on there, perhaps?''
''Sadly no. It seems to be a map of tunnels leading down to hidden sea coves.'' Horace explained calmly while pointing at certain spots on the wrinkled map. ''A professional guess would be that they use them for smuggling...''
''I could do without your professional guesses right now.'' Dagran snapped irritatedly. His temper starting to get the better of him. ''What the fuck is a map of the sewers good for if it doesn't have an exit!''
Horace paid no mind to the angry outburst. He knew that Dagran was only concerned for the young lady. He snatched up the map and stuffed it inside his satchel and nodded his head at the two men, ''We better brave the sewers rather than standing around here bickering, right gentlemen?''
''Glad to see you have some spunk in ya! Though considering you didn't brave the tunnels very well during your escape I recommend we skip that.'' Zoran replied with a bark of laughter. His gaze went from Horace to the beautiful woman in his former friend's arms. ''I wouldn't want pretty boy's beautiful lass to die on him. I know my way out so I'll guide you out as a way of saying sorry about dragging you into my mess.''
''Fine, now get us the hell out of here and with no mistakes!'' Dagran immediately answered and received a nod from Zoran in return. Then three men briskly walked through the archway, leading out into the maze like corridors.
The magically lit torches made their shadows dance eerily along the damp walls. Water covered most of the slippery stone floors. The splashing noises from their footsteps was the only sound one could hear. Aside from the running water and crackling from the torches.
Twenty minutes had already gone by since they left the bandit's hideout and Dagran's patience was already running thin. With a woman getting sicker by the minute, it felt like they had been walking forever. He could feel how her temperature had risen and a thin layer of perspiration glistered against her pale skin. A pained moan escaped her lips, the sound spoke volumes about the condition she was in.
''Look there! We made it out!'' Horace suddenly announced excitedly. Pointing to a ladder a few feet ahead – which was illuminated by light coming from above. He looked at Dagran and saw relief flash across his face. ''I'm sorry for the trouble that befell you because of me...''
''You don't need to apologise. We were running from someone so we could have stumbled onto those bandits anyhow...'' Dagran responded tiredly, but with sincerity latched into his voice. He gently readjusted Tifa so she was balanced onto his shoulder. Which would enable him to climb easier.
Zoran had observed his former friend as they had made their way through the sewers. He was a bit perplexed about the change that had occurred. There was now a calm within the mercenary, which had never been there before. Dagran used to have that strong ambition which drove him forward, but it seemed to have been sedated.
''Up that ladder lies the marketplace. This is as far as I go...I have to go back and do some cleaning.'' Zoran turned his back towards the two men. He looked over his shoulder and his gaze met with Dagran's, before disappearing behind a corner. ''Come by my shop sometime. I'll give ya a nice discount...for old times sake.''
Dagran merely answered with a nod of his head. Not being able to either accept or decline the unspoken truce his former friend was offering. His first reaction was not to trust Zoran, but his instincts told him that the other man's offer was genuine.
''I'll go first then,'' Horace said with a warm smile on his face. Jumping onto the ladder and quickly climbing up. ''Shout if you need any help!''
''You're lucky you don't weight that much...'' Dagran muttered to his unconscious companion as he carefully climbed the ladder – one handedly. His thoughts drifting back to the matter at hand. Where do I go to get help? I might be recognized at the hospital...
Rain greeted them as they climbed out of the old well. The sky was dark and the hour late. They must have been unconscious for quite some time at the bandits hideout. Dagran readjusted Tifa again, so she lay more comfortably. Her head resting against his shoulder, and her legs hanging over his arm. ''I need to hurry and get her some help. Take care of yourself and please try to keep out of trouble, Horace.'' He said while walking past him.
''I will try, master Dagran! Don't hesitate to ask if you ever need help...'' Horace smiled brightly as Dagran turned his back to him. Getting ready to leave. ''I'm more than happy to repay you for saving me from those bandits.''
''Keep my presence in the city a secret between us.'' Dagran spoke and looked over his shoulder, returning the smile. ''That's all repayment I require.''
''You have my word! I wish you luck, master Dagran.'' Horace shouted after the man who had melted into the shadows of the dark alleys. He continued in the other direction, with a happy bounce to his steps. ''I'll be home soon, my sweet Meredith...''
Mirania gently rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Trying in vain to chase away the tiredness that had crept up upon her. Several candles were burning in the quiet library, and the flickering from them created shadows upon the open book. Making the letters dance playfully before her eyes.
''It's no use!'' she complained loudly, shutting the book with a snap. ''There is nothing even remotely close in there...''
''I could have told you that already.'' Yurick interjected her complaining. Grinning when seeing her jump in her chair. ''No one has ever been able to find answers, or explain spirits and the afterlife, nor how they work. All information we have are based on speculation and observations.''
''I'm well aware of that Yurick.'' Mirania turned in her chair, her nose scrunching up with annoyance. ''I was hoping to find a book on necromancers, or better yet, a book written by one.''
''Now you're being naïve.'' Yurick signed tiredly, giving her a meaning look. ''Necromancers are evil and any knowledge they possess stays inside their cult. Chances are slim of ever learning anything from them, let alone finding a book written by one...''
''I know! But it beats doing nothing...'' she chewed on her bottom lip. Busying herself by neatly stacking the previously scattered books in a neat pile, ''At the very least, we're well informed in case we are to face yet another impossible situation.''
''Mirania...'' Yurick mumbled with a shake of his head. His bangs obscuring his view of her face. He needn't see his own pain reflected in her eyes. Nothing else needed to be said on the subject. They had all at one point felt guilt about their actions that day. Wondered if they could have prevented Dagran's death somehow. He turned towards the double doors, intend to leave her alone to continue her research. Before slipping out into the touch lit hallways, he caught her eye. ''This time will be different, we'll make sure it is.''
Dagran quickened his pace while keeping an eye out for city guards. It would not look good being discovered in the state he and Tifa were in, and he had no desire answering unwanted questions, nor risk being recognized and taken into custody.
''No! Not my papa,'' Tifa moaned painfully, her hand grasping his shirt in a tight grip. ''Don't leave me...all...alone.''
''I'm not going to let you die. I'll get you help, just hang on a little longer...'' Dagran broke into a run, rushing through deserted streets and darkened alleys. He felt like an idiot, running back to his old friends, considering he ran from the mere hours ago. He would not blame them if they shut the door in his face, but he had to try. He knew the risks involved by making contact with them, but he did not care. Tifa had put herself in harms way to protect him, and he planned to return the favour: consequences be damned.
He rounded another house corner and finally came out onto the main street by the Coliseum. The rain having finally let up. No sound came from the large battle arena, and the streets which usually bustled with people lay empty and calm. Except for a few stray drunkards loitering near the passage to Artisan's way. Light coming from a house at the back of the round square caught his eye. His course was set and he approached the bar with determined steps.
Dagran looked through the small window on the old front door. Hoping to find a familiar face inside the empty bar. The small stack of dirty dishes resting on the bar counter told him that the bar just closed. ''It must not be as late as I first thought...'' He mumbled to himself as he walked through the creaking door.
A few lanterns lit up the bar and serving area. Dagran passed the foot of the stairs and his eyes landed on a wooden sofa beneath the staircase. He gently laid Tifa down upon it. Trying to make her as comfortable as possible, while he was going to confront his former companions. His fingers gently brushed away the bangs from her eyes, feeling how hot she was.
The sound of glass shattering startled him and hearing a surprised gasp made a chill run down his spine. Slowly he turned his head towards the source of the sound, only to barely duck a plate flying towards him. It collided with the wall behind him. Shattering into several pieces, but his focus was solely on the woman before him. He slowly raised his hands in a sign of surrender, not wanting to risk Tifa getting hit if Syrenne decided to thrown anything else.
Syrenne's forest green eyes were like a maelstrom of different emotions. She had not changed much in the last two years. The same wild strawberry blond hair, and air of confidence was still in place. She wore a pair of baggier black and grey pants, which reminded him of Lowell's favourite ones. They were held up by her usual brown leather belt. Gone was her black bra top and in its place was a v-necked dark green tunic with semi long sleeved arms. ''So, you really are back...'' She said in disbelief.
''I...um...yeah.'' He answered at a loss for words. His gaze locked onto her stomach in shock, not quite believing his own eyes. His rehearsed explanation for approaching them was blown out the window. Suddenly it felt like it made more sense to chance exposure at the hospital than to drag them into his life again. A pained moan coming behind him woke him from his shock. He shook his head and met her gaze head on. ''I'm sorry, for barging in here on you like this, after everything...but I need help, or rather my friend does...''
Syrenne calmly walked towards him, her eyes never leaving his. It was not until she stood right in front of him that her eyes narrowed slightly. Warning him about what was to come. She slapped him across the face as hard as she could, and he calmly accepted her anger. Welcoming the stinging pain from her slap – with open arms.
''You should be sorry you, damned sod! First we had to kill you, and then you're alive and bloody avoiding us!'' She barked with tears crowning at the corner of her forest green eyes. ''You should be beaten into next week for making us go through that...but-'' Syrenne exclaimed and surprised him by giving him a crushing hug, ''I'm just glad to see yer fucking face again!''
''I've missed you too...Syrenne.'' Dagran murmured half in shock as he awkwardly returned the first hug he had ever gotten from her. A smile graced his lips when breaking apart and looking down at her.
''Welcome back, mate.'' Lowell interrupted them from the doorway. Grinning from ear to ear, ''Although, I would love to solve that little question mark... as to why you ran from us mere hours ago.''
''I promise to explain in due time, but I must ask you to keep my presence here a secret from Zael and Calista.'' Dagran spoke seriously, his eyes hardening when looking over at Lowell. ''If you can't do that then I'll leave...never to return.''
''Here we bloody go again!'' Syrenne angrily spat, her voice rising to a dangerous level. ''You come here bleeding and stinking like a fucking sewer, and on top of that make one hell of a demand,'' she tried to punch him, but he easily caught her fist in the palm of his own hand. ''Why can't you just trust us!?''
''I...I-'' Dagran was at loss of words, his gaze lowered to the floor. His eyes closed as he willed his thoughts to stay coherent. ''I have some unfinished business with someone at the castle, that must be resolved before I can meet them.''
''Enough,'' Lowell interrupted them, his grey eyes pinned on his former leader. ''we will keep your secret, on one condition.''
Dagran cautiously lifted his gaze from the floor to glance over at his friend. He had thought to find anger in his gaze, but found instead trust. His fingers softly uncurled from around Syrenne's fist as his friend walked to stand beside his lover. He watched as they shared a look of understanding between themselves, ''What would that condition be?''
''That you allow us to help you...this time.'' Lowell held out his hand. A look of determination gracing his rugged face. It was an unspoken challenge, they asked him to lower his guard and place his trust in them.
''Do we have a deal?'' Syrenne asked seriously, her voice laced with the same determination as her partner.
''Deal.'' Dagran grabbed his hand firmly, giving it a tight squeeze. ''Thank you, guys.'' he said sincerely.
''Now let's get that friend of yours some help.'' Lowell said and strode past the other two. He spotted the unconscious woman on the wooden sofa. ''Quite the looker ain't she!'' he whistled playfully as he studied her closely. His eyes expertly roamed over her body and seeing the beauty beneath the dirty and dishevelled appearance. Out of habit his gaze lingered on her womanly assets a bit longer than one would call appropriate, but when Syrenne approached him from behind, he made sure to shift his gaze.
''It's not often this happen, but I have to agree with this lout of mine.'' Syrenne chimed in, gently laying her hand against Tifa's forehead. Immediately feeling her elevated temperature against her cool hand. She quickly checked the woman's eyes and carefully opened one of her shut eyelids. This told her that the poison which she suffered from had not yet reached a dangerous level. Just by looking the woman's skin had been enough to detect the poison coursing through her veins. Her skin which she guessed was normally porcelain, now had a greyish tint to it. ''Where did you pick up this one?''
''I see establishing how pretty she might be is much more important than helping her. I'm so glad you've got your priorities straight,'' Dagran replied grumpily while sauntering over to the trio. ''and I didn't ''pick her up'' I literally ran into her...''
''Jokes aside, we've got to act fast. I'll go and prepare an antidote while you can carry her to the bedroom upstairs. Take the room to the right, through the blue door.'' Syrenne looked over her shoulder at Dagran before walking towards the kitchen door, ''Lowell prepare a bowl with warm water and put it next to the bedside with some clean cloths. Then fill the bathtub with cold water.'' Syrenne ordered from within the kitchen.
''Consider it done, my dear!'' Lowell immediately sprang into action and bolted upstairs in a hurry. Ready to fulfil what had been requested of him.
Dagran let his eyes wander across her still form as he was bending down to lift her up. Her skin looked ghostly pale in this light, except for the fever blush across her cheeks. Her rosy lips were dry, but slightly parted and she panted helplessly between spikes of fever and pain. After carefully hoisting her into his arms, he noticed the blood marks on the sofa. It was no wonder she was pale, she had lost a lot of blood. Fresh blood mixed with dry blood, as well as dirt covered her back and arms.
The blue bedroom door was already opened and he saw Lowell place a big porcelain bowl of warm water on one of the wooden nightstand's. He took in the familiar scent of goldenrods as he entered the spacious room. It was a flower commonly used to treat wounds and infections. They usually bought it in powder form, and mixed it with hot water before cleaning a wound. The bed had been stripped of pillows and blankets, which now lay neatly in a pile on a worn armchair by the small window. He sent Lowell a grateful smile before he gently lowered her onto the soft mattress.
''What are you standing around waiting for?'' Lowell asked, his brow slightly furrowed.
''I'm waiting for Syrenne, of course.'' Dagran answered with a small shrug, not quite understanding the amused grin which took form on his friend's face.
''What ever for? Just strip her and clean her wounds.'' Lowell answered calmly as it was the most natural thing in the world.
''Me!?'' Dagran exclaimed nervously, backing away from the bed. His eyes darting back and forth between Lowell and Tifa. A look of panic taking form across his handsome face.
''I'm sure as hell not going to.'' Lowell immediately shot back and walked to stand beside the other man. Giving him a little shove, which made him stumble closer to the bed. ''You're the only person she knows and trusts here.''
''I don't think that would be appropriate...'' Dagran stubbornly replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest. ''It's best to wait for Syrenne.''
''You are seriously considering that a pregnant woman tend to her!?'' Lowell responded angrily, glaring frustratedly at his former captain. ''What if she starts to panic and thrash about, and god forbid, Syrenne gets hurt, or the baby?''
''Nooo! Papa, don't die...'' Tifa suddenly cried out, effectively putting an end to the two bickering men. She tried to toss and turn in her fever delirium, but the painful wounds on her back restricted her movements. In a state of panic she arched her back like a bow, while a scream of pain left her lips.
''Don't just stand there, you dolts!'' Syrenne angrily reprimanded them as she stormed into the room. Her breathing slightly laboured. Her arms where filled with some spare clothing, which she dumped onto the armchair. ''Dagran quickly wash up and Lowell go and check the bloody bath.''
Lowell flashed his lover a wicked grin as he followed a very uncomfortable looking Dagran into the en suite. While inside the bathroom, Dagran occupied himself by quickly washing up, as Lowell dipped his hand into the round bathtub which took up almost all the space. He released a small ice spell beneath the water surface which would keep the water cool until it was needed.
Dagran walked back into the bedroom with his friend in tow. His features was carefully schooled into a mask of calmness, but his insides where anything but calm. He had treated many of his friends over the years, but never had he been forced to do anything this intimately. Certainty not with a person which he had developed a fondness towards!
''I'll avenge you father...'' Tifa mumbled faintly with tears streaming down her pale cheeks. ''You'll pay...Sephiroth.''
''You're safe now...'' Syrenne whispered soothingly from her spot on the bed. She gently brushed away the newly escaped tears. ''Sounds like she had a rough past, just like us.''
''The man Sephiroth, burned down her village when she was a teen. Killing everyone and destroying everything she held dear.'' Dagran calmly told them, as he submerged a piece of clean cloth into the bowl of water. ''She's been through a lot just like us.'
''These scars will be far more visible though, poor lass...'' Lowell mumbled. His gaze left her bloodied, still form. ''I for one, hate the sound of a woman in pain, so this is our cue, let's go Syrenne.'' he gently helped her onto her feet. ''We better check on that antidote of yours, while Dagran takes care her, eh?''
''Right you are.'' Syrenne said while following Lowell out of the room. She gave her friend a reassuring smile before closing the door. ''I'll be back with the antidote soon.''
Finally left alone, Dagran released a shaky breath which he had been holding. A small portion of tension disappeared from his limps, which was replaced with a calming determination. Without further ado, he set to work. He started by removing her black leather boots, yanking them off her feet and tossing them in a empty corner. Then followed her wet socks, revealing a set of cold feet.
Next he literally ripped the black leather chaps off her, along with the belt across her hips and belt pouch. After that he tugged off the short, fingerless gloves covering her cold hands. His normally deft fingers had a slight shake to them, as he fumbled with the buttons of the shorts. While gently removing the still moist clothing, only leaving her in her panties, he couldn't stop himself from admiring her. His hazel eyes trailed from her black cotton panties, down her bare legs. Mentally kicking himself for not resisting the temptation of studying her. Damnation! I should focus on her wounds not her curves...I'm never going to tease Lowell, ever again. I'm just as sad as he is...
Dagran decided that it would be easiest to cut the top open, to avoid causing her unnecessary pain. He grabbed a small, sharp knife from his belt and slid it underneath the black material. Quickly shredding the hunters top, and throwing it behind him. He gasped aloud, his gaze fixated on her chest. His attention was regrettably not focused on her breasts. Not that they weren't noteworthy, in their own right, but a much less pleasant detail had caught his attention. A scar ran across her upper body. Its shape was diagonal, and it went from her left shoulder, down between her breasts, finally to end by her right hip.
''Hell...you've must have been cut right open...'' He whispered sorrowfully, as he gently flipped her over. Laying her onto her stomach. He moved the nightstand closer to the side of the bed, before he settling his knees on either side of her lower body. Then he leaned down and unclasped her bra, to better access her wounds. His hand closed around the cloth resting in the warm water, and he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
He started by gently scrubbing away the dirt and blood around her wounds. Cleaning her back, before he dealt with the painful, red, and bloody whip lashes. She screamed out in agony, every time the warm water seeped into her open wounds. Her whole body tensed, and she tried with all her remaining might to throw him off her. He gritted his teeth and steeled his resolve, as he clamped his legs harder around her. Effectively pinning her into place between his legs.
I hate seeing her like this... Dagran thought while working as fast as he could. He flinched once again from hearing her pained cries. When he was finally done, he put the cloth back into the bowl, which was not filled with red water. He fished up his materia from his glove and held his hand above her back. The green light from Restore worked its magic, sealing her wounds. The only thing remaining from the gruesome whip lashes were white scars across her back. He repeated the process on her arm as well.
''Whoa! Where did you learn that?'' Syrenne whispered behind him, giving him quite the scare – seeing as he had failed to notice her presence. ''You could never use magic before, is the the reason for that too?''
''Yes, if you must know.'' He answered while turning towards her. ''She gave me something that enabled me to use magic.''
''Bloody nice of her.'' Syrenne replied with a grin. ''This will take care of the poison, but she still need that cold bath to help with lowering the fever faster. '' she deposited a small flask on the nightstand.
''I'll see to it, then clean myself up.'' he gave her a tired smile as he gestured to his own dishevelled and bloody self. ''Thanks for all your help. I really appreciate it.''
''Don't mention it. I hope she feels better tomorrow.'' Syrenne returned the smile and then picked up the dirty porcelain bowl. She stopped at the threshold and looked over her shoulder. ''It's bloody good to have you back.''
Dagran remained silent as she closed the door. A part of him felt glad to be back, but one part was hesitant. Pushing away those thoughts, he carefully flipped Tifa over to lay onto her back, then he picked up the antidote. By pinching her nose, he made her breath through her mouth. He carefully poured it's contents into her mouth. She tried to spit out the vile tasting concoction, but he firmly kept her mouth shut until she swallowed it all.
That done, he slid his arms under her body, effortlessly lifting her up, and walked into the bathroom. His face flushed while he discarded her underwear before lowering her into the cold water. He propped her up against the edge of the bath, and set out to free her hair from her tightly crafted bun. To simply distract himself from further taking advantage of the fact that she was completely undressed. His mouth formed an O when the last hair pin finally released her brown hair. Waves of chocolate brown tresses poured down around her pale shoulders. He had never imagined her having so long hair, and it was beautiful.
''I have you to thank for not being in that cold water...'' Dagran murmured as the coldness of the water seeped through his fingers, while he combed through her wet tresses. Just before he decided that she had been in the water long enough, he gathered her hair into a messy braid. When hoisting her back into his arms, his gaze landed once more on the large scar. What Kind of a person could slash her open like that?
His thoughts were interrupted when her shivering and wet form snuggled closer against him. Clumsily, he managed to set her down on the edge of the bath, somehow balancing her against him, while quickly drying her of with a towel Lowell had left him. Dagran then carried her back into the bedroom, immediately noticing that the bed had been made for them. While they had been in the bathroom. He grabbed the clean pair of panties and a plain cotton shirt that his friends had provided him with, and put them on her.
Dagran tucked her under the covers, and looked down into her sleeping face. He felt a rush of relief surge through him, as he noticed her skin color had returned to normal. Aside from the dark circles under her eyes. Which a good night's rest would remedy. Before he went to clean himself up, he leaned down and ran his fingers down her cheek. ''I'm sorry for putting you in danger...'' he whispered remorsefully.
Lowell and Syrenne had just finished cleaning up and getting the bar ready for tomorrow, decided to check on their guests. They silently opened the guest room's door, and took a peak inside. The two barkeepers couldn't suppress the impish grins which formed on their faces at the sight before them.
Dagran was laying on his back, sleeping soundly. His left arm securely wrapped around the sleeping woman. She had curled herself into a ball, with her face pressed into his side, and her hand had found its way onto his chest. The both of them looked very content and peaceful in their sleep.
''Looks like our fearless leader better watch out.'' Lowell chortled softly, as he closed the bedroom door again. ''I've seen him with very few women, but he has never once spend the night with them...''
''It's about bloody time, I say.'' Syrenne cheerfully responded and followed her partner downstairs. ''Think we should lend a helping hand, eh?''
''Let's see how it plays out first, love. '' Lowell sent her a knowing look, ''Though if things go poorly, I'd say it's our duty as friends to help out. With any means necessary.'' he concluded with wide grin.
Disaster had altered their plans. Though, in the end perhaps that was for the best?
Dagran had been reunited with two of his former friends, and Tifa's life had been saved as a result. Would the two mercenaries be granted a breather, or would trouble still linger in their midst?
The clock chimed 12 times, welcoming midnight, and the only sound in the darkened house came from the master bedroom. Where cackling laughter of amusement filled the first minutes of the hour of midnight.
