Chapter 19

Time Together

Tifa suppressed a sneeze as she pulled two tomes from the highest shelf and let them drop to the floor. Her skin crawled with the microscopic bugs and earthy spiders her rummaging exposed.

Everyone appeared tired, not only from the long day but also from the archive's content. Tifa swallowed a retch or two as she thumbed through photos tucked between page creases. She couldn't have been the only one finding the more graphic records.

Cloud frequently excused himself of their task and combed the corridors for lurking phantoms and tunnel-dwelling specters. The sound of his sword clanging against some unknown fiend occasionally echoed through the air. He dealt with his lingering trauma his own way.

Tifa hadn't spoken to him since their argument the night before. His denigrating comments about their mutual friend was too much to fathom. Cloud had suffered Hojo's cruel ministrations, same as Vincent. How could he insinuate Vincent was less than human? Had Cloud always felt this way about the former Turk? Or was it a recent development arising from Tifa's flowering relationship?

She knew she would have to confront Cloud eventually. They lived together. Their disagreement couldn't go unaddressed. Cloud hadn't yet returned from his killing spree in the passageway, but now wasn't the time anyway. They needed to get out of here, then she would force him to talk about it—calmly.

Hardly anyone spoke all day. Vincent had returned to the library last night—alone and poured through hundreds of texts. It probably cut their trip by a day, but she fretted over the toll it would take on him. His hollow, glassy-eyed stare demonstrated the extent of his strain.

The progress was a relief, she admitted. She wanted to thank Vincent, maybe suggest a break and let the Turks and scientists go through the remaining tomes. Tifa carefully climbed down the ladder, thinking it time to seek him out. See for herself that he was doing fine.

In the furthest most nook of the library, Vincent tugged book after book from its position, scanning it briefly before replacing it. Tifa watched him a moment, enthralled at the speed at which he completed the task. No wonder they were finishing up a day early.

"Hey, Vincent," she called to him softly.

"Tifa," he responded, mild surprise inflected his tone. Curiously, he hadn't heard her approach. How odd.

He laid a small notebook atop a set of archives and faced her. "How are you holding up?"

She chuckled, shaking her head downward at his thoughtful question. "Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing." Tifa rubbed his elbow with friendly concern. "You need a break?"

"Just finished here." Vincent lifted several books into his hands and walked toward the main library, setting them onto the stacks ready for transport.

"Carlos," he called out to the young doctor, who sprinted to them as fast as his feet would allow.

Carlos still wouldn't get too close to Vincent. Just needs to get to know him a little.

"This room is ready to be cataloged. That should be it, right?" Vincent pointed into the small nook as he waited for the doctor to answer.

"Yes, Mr. Valentine." Carlos nodded vigorously at Vincent. "Sybil—I mean, Dr. Shelly is boxing up the records on the desk, and this will be the last room."

Tifa bit her cheek, stifling the laugh that nearly erupted from her lips. Carlos was eager to please Vincent, even if he didn't hide his apparent fright.

"We can finish the rest in the morning. Start removing everything after you log this room." The doctor moved quickly at his instruction, jogging away to inform his colleague.

Tifa helped Vincent situate the books they would be taking to Edge as they walked through the library. He shot a glance at Rude, who took the cue to call it a night and tapped his partner's shoulder. The Turks escorted the scientists out of the library, not one uttering a sound as they entered the corridor. Vincent seemed to visibly sigh in relief to be done with the task.

"So, how about we get a bite to eat?" Tifa smiled at Vincent as he turned toward her. She canted her head at him, drawing her lips into a mock frown. "I bet you haven't eaten today, huh?"

When he met her gaze this time, his stress and a hint of anxiety were apparent in his furrowed brows, an odd display for Vincent. He scrutinized the library, sulking in contemplation. "Somehow can't think of food down here."

"I couldn't agree more. The smell alone kills the appetite." She hugged herself and turned to leave, keeping an eye on him.

"That's not it," he said but didn't elaborate on his meaning. He faced Tifa with a small smile. "A bite to eat might be good. There's a small café at the town's entrance. Let's go there."

She led the way, their trek through the basement thankfully uneventful as no ghouls threatened their departure. Once they walked outside, Rude nodded at them as though he had been waiting for them to exit the house like a protective parent. He moseyed toward town on his own while Cloud stood at the fence, refusing to acknowledge their presence as they descended the porch.

Tifa pursed her lips at his discourteous behavior. They would need to clear the air. Better to get it done now than let it fester. Tifa approached him, willing to forgive and be first with an offer of goodwill, an anticipated gesture from her. Typical of her to give him the benefit of the doubt, another chance, same as always.

"Hey, we're gonna get some dinner. Want to go?" She gave him a warm smile, waiting for his reply.

Tifa knew he would decline the offer, but his bitter scoff wasn't expected. "Tch! No thanks on the third wheel." He wouldn't even meet her gaze, only stared into the distance toward the inn.

"Then eat by yourself!" She snapped and returned to Vincent's side a short distance on the path toward town.

"Everything alright?" He studied Cloud and then fell into step beside her when she slowed her trot next to him.

"Yeah, no worries." She tossed her hair behind her with a thin smile and cleared her throat. "So, about this café."

Their walk to the restaurant was silent, if not a little awkward after the short, public quarrel with Cloud. Tifa cringed in mortification that Vincent witnessed the display. She and Cloud usually kept their arguments between themselves ever since Marlene tattled on them a couple of years before. She recalled the uncomfortable conversation with Barret. He hadn't wanted to pry but told her maybe they should "keep it where the kids can't see." But that doesn't matter anymore; the kids live with Barret now.

The café was appreciatively empty as most folks in town preferred the bar's livelier atmosphere. It didn't matter to Tifa, personally. The village was as soulless to her as it had been six years prior when they'd traveled to the town during the hunt for Sephiroth. The people that had moved in following the town's genocide meant nothing to her. They were strangers.

They eased into a table near a window offering a scenic view of the valley stretching below. Neither spoke until a server stopped to take their order. Even then, finding the words to talk to him seemed more complicated than it had before they arrived.

Tifa watched Vincent, mesmerized by the darkened shades of his eyes as he observed the eerie glow cast by the moon. He slipped away in his thoughts; the arrival of their food unnoticed by him. She exhaled heavily as sadness reappeared, an expression she hadn't seen from him in a long time.

"Well, I'm famished," she said loudly before slurping a spoonful of her soup.

Vincent finally looked at her in confusion. "What was that?"

She smiled as she swallowed the steamy liquid. "Mmm, excuse me." Tifa cleared her throat as she wiped her mouth. "Food's here. Aren't you hungry?" She pointed down at his untouched sandwich.

Vincent peered at his food then glanced at her with a sheepish grin. "Can't let this go to waste, I guess." He lifted the sandwich and took a large bite, rolling his eyes as if in ecstasy.

Tifa giggled at his antics, loving to see a playful side to him. Especially when all the joy they shared the more time they had spent together had dissipated upon their arrival to the phony town.

The moment didn't last long, and the serious mask quickly returned as he slowly chewed his food. Tifa frowned, disappointed that his good mood was a momentary façade. She wanted nothing more than to cheer him up—and herself.

A small crumb clung to the bottom of his chin. Taking a chance, she reached her hand across the table and gently rubbed it away, hoping to encourage him to glance at her with longing. Or at this point—just any emotion other than the angst-filled ruminating.

Vincent didn't reward her with a response, only wiped at his mouth and chin as her hand dropped to her side. She gave up on any other flirtatious attempts, assuming they would be overlooked. Or perhaps unwanted. As if the night of the gala—Yuffie's party—never happened. At that moment, Vincent felt as distant to her as Cid.

She ate quietly as he did the same. It's moments like these she missed Aerith the most. Her friend could lighten the mood, no matter how glum or dour the atmosphere.

He paid for their meal, and they left the café, strolling slowly through the town. Tifa allowed a small smile to form. Anywhere else, and this would be romantic. But he wasn't giving off that kind of vibe.

She let her hand hang at her side, hoping he would take it into his. But it swayed on its own. Vincent either wasn't catching the hint or was avoiding it.

Tifa puckered her lips and tried a different path. Maybe it was better to poke the dragon in the room. Let it roar, make its presence known.

"I was wondering," she started, a little nervous with this unchartered territory. "How did you and Lucrecia start your love affair?"

His eyes snapped up to hers, shocked that she broached the subject.

Vincent quickly masked his astonishment. No one had ever asked him that. In fact, the few people he knew avoided bringing Lucrecia up altogether.

"It was work—I was assigned to her, to them." His answer was almost curt, and he instantly regretted speaking before thinking. Hurt flashed in her eyes, and she looked down at her boots.

He knew she didn't mean any harm but was perhaps trying to expose any feelings of despair clinging to him since their arrival. Tifa would've recognized that Lucrecia had been in his thoughts, almost debilitating him from everyday social interactions.

His chest filled with air as he calmed himself to keep his voice friendly. "We spent time together, and I caught feelings. Quite the normal scenario, I guess," he said with a shrug.

"Well, yeah. But—did you ask her for a date? Or did it happen by accident?" she asked with a curious tilt to her head.

He considered her question, supposing there was never any sort of conventional dating between himself and Lucrecia. They'd only ever been in each other's company in Nibelheim.

"We spent time together," he repeated with another shrug. "Mostly work-related now that I think about it. But I guess there were a lot of walks and picnics. Stuff like that." He didn't mention the dancing late at night. Or the fact that he had learned to dance to make Lucrecia happy.

"That sounds romantic to me," she replied, almost in a comforting tone. So, she had picked up on his discomfort. "Kind of like a walk on the beach in the moonlight, right?"

"Yeah, just like that," he answered with an involuntary, crooked smile. He leaned down suddenly to whisper closer to her ear. "Though I think I like the beach better." Tifa had a knack for exposing his flirtatious side and chasing awkwardness from his mind.

A shy smile flitted across her mouth, and a hint of blush colored her cheeks. An old familiar tug at Vincent's heart stopped his stroll. She peered at him; his abrupt pause chased the smile from her lips.

Their moment was suddenly interrupted by a tongue clicking in their direction. The Turks scrutinized them from their perch under the bar's awning. Rude descended, silently passing them as he marched toward the inn. Reno leered and followed his partner with a cocky saunter in his step. He had a way of grinding on Tifa's last nerve, and Vincent noticed her gnashing her teeth as she stared in their direction.

"You know, Vincent?" Worry etched into his eyebrows at her depressing tone as he waited for her to continue.

She looked up at him with sorrow before she spoke again. "Maybe we aren't in the best place to talk about this. Nibelheim—it sort of takes all the joy from life. Out of the future." Tifa noticeably shuddered, holding her arms closer to herself.

The town carried horrors for them both. But at least for Vincent, the city wasn't tied to memories of his family or friends. This was where he worked. Not his childhood hometown.

"I'm sorry," Tifa said as she grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. "I think I'll turn in for the night." She had already been forcing a cheerful guise; her real emotions were fraught, exhausted from this mission.

"Goodnight, Tifa." He said to her in a low, gentle voice. She walked with her head down and entered the inn. Vincent sighed through his nose, glad that they would be leaving this gods-forsaken town in the morning.

When he reached the inn, he had to sidestep as Carlos tore through the entrance and nearly crashed into him.

"Oh, excuse me, Mr. Valentine." His voice sounded panicked.

"What's wrong, Carlos?"

Carlos bent down, clutching his knees and panting as he tried to catch his breath. "It's Sybil. I just—" he stuttered a bit as he held up his phone for Vincent to see. "She left a mes—message. Said she—needed to check on something in the mansion."

Vincent immediately grabbed his phone and called Rude. "Meet me at the house. Dr. Shelly's gone in on her own."

"I'm sorry, sir. I would've stopped her. But she's got a problem with authority." Carlos apologized as he stood straight.

"Nevermind that. I'll find her." Vincent sprinted through the lamplit streets toward the house. He would've leaped over the building but didn't want to startle Carlos. The scientists would learn more about him soon enough when they could review the journal.

He waited motionless in the foyer, listening for any sound of the young woman before Rude and Reno raced onto the porch.

"How long?" Rude asked as he stopped behind Vincent.

"About 30 minutes ago. I can't hear where she might be."

"I'll check the kitchens," Reno said as he started to walk off.

"No," Vincent halted the Turk. "The house is rather active tonight, probably disturbed by our actions in the basement. We should stay together."

Reno stepped closer, wide eyes flitting around the house as he mouthed 'active' in response to Vincent's warning. They stilled, each listening for any sign of the woman.

"You think she went down to the cellar?" Reno's quivering whisper broke the quiet.

"Don't think so." His partner adjusted his glasses before continuing, "she was afraid of heights.

Vincent silently agreed and then sensed movement on the upper floor. He took the stairs two at a time and stepped left onto the balcony, followed closely by the Turks.

Ticking metal echoed from the small office at the end of the corridor. Vincent sneaked across the landing and eased the door open. Sybil crouched in front of a large, metal safe, spinning the dial as she tried to crack its password.

"A little late for a heist, yo." Reno's voice reverberated through the room.

Sybil jumped in her boots, whirling to face them with disbelief at being discovered.

"Oh—you—well, what are you doing here?" She stammered, eyes darting between them.

"Us? We should be asking you that, doc!" Reno tapped his magrod on his collarbone and looked to Vincent for an order.

"What are you doing here, Sybil?" Vincent kept his voice calm but bristled at the woman's deliberate disregard of his orders. "You could've been killed."

"Yes, I understand. But—it's just that I thought we might come across Dr. Crescent's research."

Vincent concealed his astonishment at her excuse. Maybe he should hold on to the journal.

"Nevertheless," he answered coolly. "I expected you to heed my warning about the house. It's haunted."

"So, you said, but there's nothing he—" Before she could finish her thought, an apparition materialized into solid form behind her, knocking her face-first onto the floor.

Vincent cursed, immediately recognizing the rare monster deemed 'jersey' in the archives. Its head formed the lower part of its body. A short torso rose from the skull with a horizontal beam extending out, holding balance scales. Its attack would vary depending on the direction the scales leaned, although Vincent wasn't confident which way meant physical or magical.

Sybil screamed as she rolled to see what hit her. The creature bore down on her, spinning its metal beam and rotating the scales around its body. Her screech suddenly grew to a shrill piercing pitch as a hand plunged into her hair and yanked her across the floor out of harm's way. She stood quickly, massaging the top of her head as she whirled on the helpful Turk to give him a piece of her mind.

Reno wasted no time on Sybil's outrage at his lack of gentlemanly finesse. The monster had switched targets, trying to whack him instead of her. The redhead extended his magrod, attempting to strike through a vulnerable spot as the jersey continued to spin.

Sybil ungraciously punched Reno's arm in anger, diverting his focus for a moment. His momentary distraction was enough to allow the jersey to press its assault. Reno was knocked from his feet when the whirling scales finally smacked into his stomach.

The jersey's scales pivoted, and Vincent braced for its magic attack. The right-side scale lit up in a fireball that rocketed across the room and struck Sybil's forearm, exacting a yell of pain. Rude pulled her behind him, blocking the jersey's path to prevent her further injury.

The jersey bounced in agitation at the new obstacle. Vincent unleashed a barrage of bullets as Reno stood from where he'd been pummeled to the ground.

Rude timed Vincent's volley and snuck in several roundhouse kicks, causing the jersey's scales to tip to the opposite side. As Rude readied another kick, Vincent stopped him. "Wait! It's changed stances. Hit it with magic only."

"Well, I can handle that," Reno said as he wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth. He shot his magrod forward, using a sidearm swing to unleash his strongest thunder cast. The metal rod pierced the creature's ear, and it shrieked from the scorching electric heat.

The jersey's head ballooned as the current rippled, and its eyes momentarily bulged before the creature exploded. A deafening 'pop' echoed through the house, and the rafters seemed to moan in response to the booming sound.

"Let's not stick around for whatever that's awakened," Vincent said to them as he grabbed Sybil by the elbow.

"Hey," she said, straining to wrench her arm from Vincent's grasp. "I can see myself out, thank you!"

"I don't think so. Move." Vincent wasn't feeling chivalrous and escorted the struggling woman down the stairs and all the way through the front door.

Once outside, he allowed her to jerk herself free of his grasp. "The commissioner will hear about this," she said with a huff and trounced off toward the inn.

"I hope so," Vincent muttered to himself as Rude and Reno joined him.

"Man, that's one creepy chick," Reno released a breath, clutching his torso where he'd been struck.

"Should we check on her injury?" Rude asked with no hint of actual interest in her welfare.

"Nah, she's a doctor, yo. She can look after herself." The Turks stepped off the porch and glanced back at Vincent. "You comin, boss?"

Vincent suppressed a smile as Reno absentmindedly scattered the hair still tangled in his fingers.

Morning followed a sleepless night for Tifa. No one spoke as they helped the hired hands bring boxes to the small truck in exhaustion. The collection mission, the house—its secrets had done its damage.

Vincent carried on by his lonesome, not coming near anyone unless absolutely necessary. Tifa wanted to check on him again, make sure he was ok, mentally and emotionally.

Cloud walked into her field of vision, and she let out an exasperated sigh as he continued to ignore her and trotted toward the helicopter just beyond town. For a split second, she wondered if anyone would ever again offer her support when she needed it. We need to leave this town!

Carlos organized the remaining boxes onto the truck. There wasn't a significant number but too many to carry to the helicopter without using the vehicle. Tifa was surprised when Vincent pulled a worn journal from his cloak and handed it to Carlos.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir." Carlos accepted the book with eyebrows lifted in alarm. "I must have dropped this."

"It's Dr. Crescent's journal. I brought it; just add it to the box marked for Professor Rayleigh, and that should be all of them." Vincent nodded at Carlos before casting an eye to Tifa. He had her journal?

An unreadable expression flashed quickly, replaced with shame, as Vincent faced the mansion, attempting to avoid Tifa's slightly incredulous expression. Instead, he scrutinized Reno as the Turk locked the mansion door.

"It's just to keep the locals out," Reno shrugged at Vincent as he walked past. "We know it won't keep out everyone." He smirked before hopping up on the truck's trailer hatch beside Carlos and then hit it twice, forcing Rude to scurry to join them. Sybil squinted out of the window and waved to them as the truck pulled away for their short journey to the helicopter.

And so, it was done. Tifa stepped into a lazy cadence with Vincent, and the two ambled to the makeshift helipad with the same fatigued hush their group had adopted since dawn.

As they caught up to the others, Sybil was refusing Reno's assistance to lift her into the cabin. The young doctor rolled her eyes at him with a huff and alternatively accepted Rude's proffered hand.

Shrugging without care, Reno cast a side-glance at Cloud as the blonde mounted onto the deck. A devilish grin spread across the redhead's face, and Tifa braced herself for whatever brawl would follow his looming taunt.

"Your girlfriend doesn't want to date you anymore, yo. Seems she's got a thing for ex-Turks." He crossed his arms and curled a finger at his chin as though in intense contemplation. "Guess your enhancements weren't enough, Mr. First Class," Reno laughed and winked at his partner.

Cloud briefly reached for the hilt of his sword. "Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Reno cackled louder, laying a hand on his heart in innocence.

Cloud visibly bristled and flopped irritably into a seat while Tifa allowed Rude to pull her aboard. Tifa turned away when the bald man stared into her face, feeling heat spread throughout her neck even in the cool mountain air.

She peeked over her shoulder to check if Vincent overheard the exchange as he was climbing into the helicopter. He didn't signal that he cared about the teasing, but she couldn't be sure. Tifa considered hog-tying Reno to one of the helicopter blades in revenge and stifled a laugh as he screamed in her mind. Smiling and feeling a little happier, she buckled herself in to await liftoff.

The hours stretched on the further they flew away from Nibelheim. Emotions drained; the group silently dozed aboard the helicopter. Even Reno had nothing to say, for which she was incredibly grateful. Tifa couldn't endure one more goading remark tossed at Cloud, asking him what he would do if he had to fight off a bunch of little baby Sephiroths in a few years. Or teasing him about his hair, short legs, and lack of vocabulary.

Tifa let her thoughts wander to all they had endured since that fateful day her home, father, and childhood had been taken from her by ShinRa and Sephiroth. She peered at her friends and smiled, thinking that they had come through it together and were now a family.

Tifa wouldn't remain angry with Cloud forever. They hit rough patches in their friendship before and always found a way to stay best friends. They could even improve their relationship now that the romantic options were removed from consideration. No longer did either feel that pressure toward the other. She was liberated from unrequited love. There was nothing more to say. She only hoped Cloud would let go of feeling like he needed to approve of any intimate relationships she would move on to. And drop his ludicrous argument about their companion.

Vincent's eyes were closed, but she doubted he slept. He'd become more introverted while they were at the mansion, a setback to all the progress he'd made to socialize more often. But she knew the mission took a severe toll on him, much the same as herself and Cloud. Tifa hoped he wasn't offended over her questions about Lucrecia. Talking things through always made Tifa feel better; she only prayed it bolstered Vincent in the same way.

She inhaled deeply and let her attention divert outside the window. The clouds floated by the aircraft as they soared over the ocean toward New Harbor and Edge. Her eyelids drooped as she thought of the reasons they went through this. For the SOLDIERs and their wives. Babies and families. For Molly and Pete, and the future.

Molly was getting closer to the end every month, and Tifa couldn't wait to greet their new baby. As her eyes started to droop in her sleepy daydream, Tifa imagined the father Pete would be, convinced the former SOLDIER would lavish the child in affection. She drifted off to sleep as the soon-to-be-born bundle cried…

The baby's wails melted her heart. Molly rested in a rocking chair, holding her little boy snuggly in her arms as she sang a sweet lullaby.

"What did you name him?" Tifa whispered to her friend.

Molly softly answered her, "What do you think we should call him? I can't well decide. He's just so durn pretty—maybe we should name him after a god or somethin?" Molly cooed at her baby as the wee one gurgled and pressed a tiny fist to his mouth.

"A god's name? You really think so?" Tifa thought her friend would choose a more traditional name.

"He is the son of a SOLDIER." Pete declared with pride, wiggling a finger on the tiny boy's bottom lip. "What do you think, doctor?

"Me? Why—well—I've always liked the name Grimoire," a woman's voice said from behind Pete.

Molly stood and offered her newborn to the doctor, and Tifa dreaded that the nameless doctor would touch the baby. She reached out, thinking to stop Molly from handing her baby to the woman. However, large, powerful hands grabbed onto her, tenderly holding her still.

"It's fine, Tifa," a low, gravelly voice tried to assuage her fears. Tifa glanced down at the gold gauntlet clutching her shoulder. "She wouldn't hurt a baby."

"But Vincent," Tifa began to cry. However, the others ignored her sobs as they only clucked their tongues at the baby, and Molly placed him into the doctor's waiting arms.

"Yes, Tifa. It's fine," The doctor tried to assure her. "You might not believe me. But I never got to hold my son. They took him from me before I could even see him." The woman sniffled, and Tifa searched her face but knew it was Lucrecia. She was beautiful, the resemblance to him undeniable in her delicate features.

Lucrecia wept as she held the baby close. Glimmering, crystalline tears fell onto the tiny bundle, and Tifa gasped as radiant light emitted from within the coverings and cast the room in a peculiar glow.

"Sephiroth. You should name him Sephiroth," Lucrecia muttered as her cheeks shined in the light now emanating from the baby.

"Yes," Molly whispered, her eyes aglow as she gazed down at her son with adoration. "See, Tifa. My son will be a god."

Molly motioned for Tifa to look at the infant nestled within the blankets. An unnerving shiver tingled down her spine as she spied a small tuft of brightly shimmering silver hair poking out from the bundle. And when she peeked closer, skin-chilling goosebumps spread across her nape at the catlike, green orbs staring back at her.

Her scream pierced the room, causing the baby to squeal in fright. Vincent tightened his grip on her shoulders and shook her. "Don't fret, love. She'll watch after him." He continued to shake her as she fought to stifle the scream and get away from it. "Tifa, it's fine! We're here! We're here!"

Tifa woke with a start and clutched one hand to her throat as she swallowed a cry. She opened her eyes. Vincent knelt in front of her, his hands gently shaking her to wake her.

"We're here, Tifa. Wake up." He watched her with deep concern. "Are you ok? You were having a nightmare." Vincent let her go and stood to his full height as he retreated a step, observing her with caution.

"Oh," Tifa breathed in relief, thankful it wasn't real. "Um—yeah, I was dreaming. Sorry." She glanced around the cabin; everyone else had disembarked. Cloud waited at the edge of the deck, looking at her with a blank face.

"If you're gonna stay there and sleep, we'll need to charge ya rent." Reno's sarcasm dripped at her as he watched from the cockpit.

Tifa quickly massaged her temples, then unbuckled the seatbelt and stood up. "No, sorry. I just—drifted off." She gave him a weak smile and joined Cloud, who now observed the WRO scientists loading the boxes onto a wheeled cart.

Vincent eased her down from the deck, his hand lingering at her elbow longer than needed before he helped Carlos load their collection.

"Well, that was fun," she said to Cloud with a tired smile as he grabbed a box and wordlessly jumped down.

"Until next time," Reno saluted them, and Rude nodded to her before he slid the helicopter doors shut.

"Doesn't ShinRa want to hold onto the archives?" Tifa wondered aloud as the group proceeded into the building.

"They do," Vincent replied as they followed closely behind Carlos, who pushed the cart. "Reeve struck an agreement with Rufus. ShinRa trusts that the information will be shared."

"Wow, he must have something really good on Reeve, then. Right?" Tifa couldn't fathom ShinRa letting the WRO having anything of theirs without some sort of leverage.

"Indeed." Vincent smiled, and Tifa looked up at him curiously. "Me."

"Huh?" Tifa responded with surprise in her tone.

"I promised I would assist them from time to time—and they're going to help us." Her worried eyes met his, and he quickly followed up. "Don't worry. I reserve the right to refuse."

Tifa canted her head at that, and he chuckled at her dubious expression. "What are they going to do? Make me?"

"Well, I guess they could try," Tifa giggled, ignoring the scoff behind her.

Cloud slowly trailed them as they traversed the hospital corridors and headed to the labs.