Vincent was immediately unsettled when he woke.

He was in a bed... a narrow, stiff mattress with white sheets, and a curtain around it. He rubbed his face with his hand, and as soon as the haze cleared, he realized something was missing...

Actually, a few things were missing. Not only was he not wearing his gloves and headband, but there was no sleeve on his arm. No cloak, no shirt... he peeked under the sheets and found no clothing at all. Taught and firm torso was bandaged, and he still felt a little rough, but he was aware that he no longer had bullets in him. There was an instant of panic- a hospital... a lab? Had Hojo caught up to him? He looked around a moment, spotting a chair and some medical machinery, but not his things. He turned off his IV, pulled the needle from his arm and the leads from his chest, and prepared to rise, only to stumble a little, his head fuzzy. He grabbed the sheet to wrap around himself, but lost his balance again, bracing himself on the monitors that were now squealing their little alarms. The curtain slid back to reveal a nervous looking nurse wearing a surgical mask.

"S-sir? Doc-" She found her voice pinched off by a cold metal claw around her throat. Vincent pulled her in, placing his hand over her mouth. He sat down on the bed, more to keep from falling over.

"Please don't scream. I don't want to hurt you. If I release you, can we please just talk like people?" He received a brief nod in response, and removed his hands from her, them dashing downward to catch the sheet as it was falling off him. She turned and looked terrified for a moment, before blushing a little and turning away at his attractive nudity. He covered himself before speaking. "What is this place?"

"This is the clinic. You came tumbling out of the Sleeping Forest... gave the diggers a fright."

"Bone Village..." he said, more to himself than anyone else. "Where are my things?"

"Oh... they're in a box in the back. We were worried that you wouldn't wake."

"May I have them?"

"Sir, you don't want to go out there. It's dreadful."

"What? Why?"

"There's a terrible sickness that's come over us the last few days. It's safe in here, but the digging has all stopped. It struck us so suddenly, we just confined everyone to their homes."

"The last few- how long have I been here?"

"Sir, you came out of the forest six days ago. I must say that I'm surprised that you're alive... I didn't think anyone could survive with the wounds you had. It's a miracle." He scoffed a little.

"Well I appreciate your excellent care. I need my things. I'll pay you for your aid, and be on my way."

"Yes sir... I'll get them right away." She hurried out of his little nook, closing the curtain behind her. Six days? I was unconscious for six days? What... oh no... His thoughts turned to Tifa. He had not gone to the Forgotten Capital alone. What if Hojo had her? That would be... no. Unacceptable. He couldn't imagine her subjected to a sort of torture like his own. He would have to find her, and he would need help...

the others won't be happy about this...

Not even a whole minute outside the city, Tifa had twisted from Sephiroth's grasp, but before she could even gain her footing, she was rewarded with a blow to the back of the head, knocking her unconscious. He lifted her back up with a sigh, but at least it meant he could reach the Modeoheim mountains in peace, and thus, a cave he found suitable for rest in silence. He moved in far enough to build a fire and keep warm, but was near enough to the entrance to not be choked out with smoke. He set her down near the fire, verified that she was alive, killed something to cook for food, roasted it, and was halfway through his own meal before speaking.

"You've pretended to be unconscious long enough. I have questions." One maroon eye opened and glanced sourly in his direction, closing again when she saw that he was looking at her. She had thought to roll away, display open defiance, but thought better of it. She knew it unwise to anger him, and merely hoped that she would be ignored long enough to come up with some sort of plan. He finished his food in silence, before looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"Woman, I may be feeling generous, but my patience is not without limits. Acknowledge me, or I will end you and move on." His tone was even, calm, and very matter-of-fact. She paused a moment before sitting up at glowering at him. She wore a scowl that let him recognize her. "Lockhart, right? Mountain guide and shadow of the puppet?"

"I have nothing to say to you." Her tone was biting, full of disdain.

"You will. As I said before, I have questions."

She just scowled at him in silence.

"Who are you?" His first question elicited a bark of laughter from her, brief, and entirely without mirth.

"I thought you knew. 'Mountain guide and shadow of Cloud?' We've met, and more than once." She enunciated Cloud's name, illustrating that she didn't like it when Sephiroth called him a puppet. He took a deep breath, trying to quell the urge to just kill her and be gone, but his desire for information was honest, and more powerful than his disdain.

"Perhaps I wasn't clear." He leaned towards her, and though there was about ten feet between them, she still leaned away instinctively. "Perhaps you don't appreciate the fact that you're alive, but the strangeness of it is not lost on me. You've taken my full assault and survived the experience, even bearing my mark." She put her hand to her chest, as if feeling the scar beneath her clothing. If her expression could have grown more disdainful, it would have. His velvety baritone voice continued. "You've wielded my own sword against me twice now. You swam into the Lifestream without being consumed by it, to save the puppet from certain death. These feats are unique. No one survives them."

"Cloud did."

"No, he didn't. He never once was able to wield my blade, and was being consumed by the Lifestream until you saved him. Even I was dispersed into it. The point is, you have done things that no else can do. Who are you?"

"I am Tifa Lockhart. I am a barmaid from Nibelheim. I am a trained martial artist, and Cloud's oldest friend. Nothing more, and nothing less." She was openly defying him, against her better judgment, but his questioning did make her wonder if the answer was in fact something more. Sephiroth couldn't help but think that she had crossed his path again for a reason. A part of him marveled at the fact that he could even ponder that it might mean something, and that he did not have Jenova to bark something like Yes, she has crossed paths with you again because you haven't killed her. We should solve that problem. He imagined she would say something like that, and Tifa lived for the moment solely because he wanted to be sure his mind was his own.

"Well, my dear, I suggest you make yourself comfortable. Eat something, if you like. I'm not finished with you." He sat back, before starting to clean his sword, practically not paying any attention to her at all. She stared incredulously for a moment, before her eyes turned toward the exit. She might be able to make it before he could get up... get a head start maybe. She didn't know how fast he could run, but he did have a longer stride than she did. She shifted to put a bit more distance between them, half watching for his attention. Maybe he didn't notice. Maybe she could get up and get a full stride or two before he saw that she had moved. As soon as both her palms touched the floor, not even hoisting herself to a position that might allow flight, he spoke, again even toned, his voice startling her.

"Dismiss those thoughts right away. I said I wasn't finished with you yet."

With a twitch, she shifted to a crouched position, adrenaline pulsing through her, overriding her good sense. Before she could rise and bolt for the exit, he was upon her- fingers snaking through her dark hair, and grasping firmly close to her scalp, offering him control of head. He pulled her to her feet.

"If my blade doesn't frighten you enough..." His free hand slid around her waist and pulled her tight to him, her resistance about as futile as moth in a jar. "...I will find other ways to keep you in line." Tifa froze. He couldn't... he wouldn't! It was unthinkable! Her breath hitched in her throat, and she tensed completely in his grasp. She had already tried and failed to push away, her physical strength utterly no match for him. A shudder of sheer disgust slid through her as she found herself incapable of holding it back. He threw her aside, deeper into the cave, and went back to his seat to return to his task. Sephiroth pondered his threat to her. He hadn't bothered himself with such past times. He always had more important things to do. He was no virgin, but Jenova had done a wonderful job of suppressing his libido. The feel of her in his arms for the brief moment he held her made his pulse quicken. This could be disastrous...