Chapter 32

Distracted

"My apologies for the apparent intrusion, Mr. Valentine," Tseng politely began. "When I did not hear back, I assumed the appointment aligned with your schedule."

Indeed, they'd planned this meeting the previous week, marked on their calendar ahead of the WRO's Rocket Town trip.

"Did you receive my message?" Tseng asked.

Vincent appeared preoccupied and had even shown surprise at their arrival. Elena cleared her throat when he didn't answer, earning her a sharp glance from Tseng.

"Message?" Vincent finally said.

"Yes, sir. I sent a reminder to you last evening—of our meeting today."

"I must've missed it. My phone lost power, and I don't have it with me," Vincent replied, indifferent to the significant security risks inherent to misplaced electronic devices. As a former Turk, Vincent should understand the breach. Still, his demeanor was thoroughly distracted, as though other matters were at the forefront of his mind.

"Should we reschedule?" Tseng asked, staring at the steaming tea on Vincent's desk.

"No, it's fine," Vincent answered in a low, rather unfriendly tone and finally appeared to focus on the present as his eyes darted between them. "The mission to the consulate. You should've informed me your operative was pregnant. A SOLDIER pregnancy, no less. You put her, and all of us, at greater risk by not revealing that information ahead of launch."

Tseng masked his alarm at Vincent's reprimand with a professional, thin-lipped smile. "I assure you; we did not know her condition had worsened to that extent."

"Is that right?" If Tseng had been a lesser man, he would have withered under Vincent's scrutiny. "It's clear now why you needed my help."

"We wanted to ensure the best possible outcome, Mr. Valentine. If additional information would—"

"If we're going to be working together, you'll have to be more honest with me in the future. Full disclosure on every operation."

Elena shifted her feet, her nerves visibly on display at Vincent's irritation. But there was only so much Tseng could divulge. Vincent was no longer a Turk. He worked for the WRO, not ShinRa. The two entities were not always aligned in their endeavors, and Tseng's foremost priority was to his employer. Outsiders, even one as clever as Vincent Valentine, increased the dangers of exposure to their methods. The more people that know, the more likely classified information would fall into enemy hands.

But offering tidbits was an acceptable form of collaboration without complete disclosure.

"We're tracking credible threats to the president, Mr. Valentine. Cissnei had been pursuing several former employees, SOLDIERs, who are disgruntled with the current state of things. They have expressed a desire to exact revenge upon the company and established a base of operations on the western continent," Tseng offered, the smile working to lace his words with a respectful resonance. "We endeavor to stop their operations before they commence terrorist activities."

Everything he shared was factual, though Vincent's seething gaze revealed the former Turk knew Tseng wasn't completely candid. Perhaps it would only be a matter of time before he did figure it all out, but for now, Tseng wasn't convinced the entire situation needed to be in WRO hands. Not yet. ShinRa should solve this. WRO involvement would mean public awareness and therefore cause a significant reputational risk to ShinRa's already embattled image.

When Vincent didn't respond, Tseng continued, "Elena will be traveling there in a few days to scope out their base. We'd like for you to accompany her. This would offer you an opportunity to visit Dr. Curie."

"You found her?"

"Yes, sir." Elena placed a file on his desk. "The number Dr. Berry provided was disconnected two years ago. However, she wasn't hard to find. She remained in Wutai after her sister's death and moved in with a niece, who is looking after her along with two boys. Dr. Curie has no other kin."

"And how will we arrive? Godo sealed the borders against ShinRa and the WRO."

"I've booked a commercial flight for two from New Harbor to Fort Tamblin in three days. We will travel as a couple. Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Dan and Donna. We'll be visiting my sister on the continent, and from there, we'll have access to secure lodging and transportation."

Tseng steeled himself for Vincent's negative response. He could handle these things independently and completely undetected, but ShinRa had their own investigations to consider.

"And what is it you need me to do for you?"

Tseng's mouth curved up to one side. "Elena is a capable Turk, as are Reno and Rude. However, several factors necessitated we seek additional—trained—assistance. The SOLDIERs are enhanced, Mr. Valentine and they may pose a significant danger. However, we do not want to disturb their operations just yet. We want to learn their numbers and their leader. The president doesn't want to use our more familiar members since Godo has become less than enamored with eastern continent endeavors of late. We are trying to rebuild the company's standing—"

Vincent stood and looked out of the window. Elena opened her mouth to speak, but Tseng silenced her with a slight shake of his head.

"I'll go," Vincent said without turning. "But I want the files on your investigation. A SOLDIER uprising wouldn't only target ShinRa interests. They'd be a more formidable opponent than what you dealt with when AVALANCHE opposed you."

"Agreed, Mr. Valentine. I will send our reports via the secure network."

"There was—um—one other thing," Elena began, and Tseng raised an eyebrow to her. She looked at him and shrugged, mouthing 'What?' in innocence.

"What is it?" Vincent asked, facing her with a bored expression.

"Um—it's your clothes—um—sir."

Vincent cast his eyes downward, looking over his state of dress before glancing back up to Elena with a questioning eye. Tseng schooled his features, directing his eyes to his hands over the humiliating topic.

"My look?" Vincent finally asked.

"Yes, sir. Um—well, it's just that—" Elena stumbled over every word, unable to express her critical suggestion thoughtfully. "Maybe you can dress, I don't know—less like—"

Tseng grabbed Elena's forearm, interrupting her botched explanation. "You're too recognizable as you are dressed currently, Mr. Valentine. May we suggest more casual attire for this mission? And perhaps modified accessories in the way of a hat and wrist guard?"

Turks were trained to handle all sorts of situations, even awkward conversations. But this was one discussion he never imagined would occur. Luckily, they were talking to a former Turk who understood clandestine operations.

"Gotcha. I'll see what I can dig up," Vincent replied.

"Oh—actually—um—I already took the liberty of getting you something. I hope—that's ok. Um—I'll just send it by later."

Tseng motioned for Elena to exit, eager to remove her from the room and cease her cringe-inducing prattling. Vincent knew what to do, and Tseng didn't want to drag this out any longer than necessary. They were trying to get the man on their side, not make him feel inadequate.

"Send me those files," Vincent said as Tseng opened the door.

"First thing upon our return to the office," Tseng answered and shut the door behind them.

The ladder wobbled precariously as Cloud replaced the lightbulb. Even with the added height, his arms extended to full reach toward the fan. It was Barret's idea to leave the rafters exposed when they built the bar. He said it would improve airflow. But he wasn't the one grabbing at the sky to change the damn light.

A series of bells echoed in the bar. Beneath his perch, Cloud could see a phone atop a booth table, the notifications lighting up the screen in intermittent flickers. Probably left overnight by some drunken moron.

He descended and placed his tools and ladder back into the garage. When he returned to the bar, the phone was no longer dinging.

"Hey, Teefs. Someone left their phone here last night," he placed the device beside her as she skillfully wrote on her menu board.

"Oh!" She quickly snatched the phone from his grasp and pocketed it. If he didn't know better, she deliberately avoided eye contact.

"Vegan fare?" he asked dubiously.

"Yup," she said, writing out her price for a Dumbapple Salad. "I went to this restaurant near the college last night that didn't serve any meat. You wouldn't believe how packed it was! Some people like more options, so—I'm adding more."

Salad options didn't appeal to Cloud, but Tifa was the chef and business expert. He'd trust her judgment, though he'd pass on the greens himself.

"So, where'd you take Shalua last night? Oh! Did Shelke go, too? That had to be weird."

Cloud recoiled from the girl talk and wasn't sure how to talk about another woman with Tifa. They'd never been at this juncture.

"Um, I guess we just went to the Tonberry café."

"Yeah?" Tifa set the chalk on the counter and gave him her full attention. He'd let her corner him. "So, what is it you guys talk about? I mean, what are you helping her with exactly?"

That seemed safe enough. Cloud could explain that no problem, though he was sure Tifa knew his interest was a little more than science.

"She wants to cure her sister. So, she's using my blood since it has—you know—the more unaltered Jenova cells and S cells. Shelke had more done to her with G cells, I think. Shalua thinks my cells could serve as a control group or something. And—" He wasn't sure what Tifa would think of the next part. "She's working with Dr. Simon to figure out how to cure some types of Mako poisoning, particularly the kind that leads to—you know. Mental breakdown and the catatonic episodes."

"Cloud, that's great!" She hugged him, and he felt relieved. Broaching these subjects with Tifa was a minefield because he'd been so reluctant for years to seek the therapy she recommended. But Cloud should know by now, Tifa is quite a forgiving person. She grabbed his face on both sides and gave him an intense stare. "I'm proud of you. I want you to know that. Everything you're doing is going to help so many people. And you!"

After she let him out of the hug, he took a step back and blushed. He still didn't know what to do with her affection. Cloud didn't really want to talk about himself anyway.

"So, how did your date end?" Tifa had just gone to bed when he got home, so he didn't get the chance to ask her. He thought she would wait up for him to chat but assumed she'd had too much to drink when he saw the door shut.

"I couldn't have hoped for a better ending to the night."

The response was not what he expected. She'd been reluctant to go on the date, even complaining about Yuffie's meddling.

"Really?" Cloud failed at sounding nonchalant, and she turned to face him, holding back her annoyance.

"Yes. Why so surprised?"

The ground he treaded was thin. Their relationship had gone through so many ups and downs, Cloud didn't know where it currently stood. Some days she was more irritated than others. It had been that way for years now; only the reasons had changed. Their troubles morphed from distance to trauma to survival and finally rested on ambivalence and going different directions. But she was still Tifa. His Tifa. Someone more than a best friend and his only family left in this nearly forsaken world. He thought he knew her better than anyone. Blind dates, Yuffie picking out guys for her was unexpected.

And then there was the near-miss with Vincent. Cloud didn't feel bad about what he did there. It was best for everyone that never happened.

But he needed to meet this guy, too.

"Not surprised," he said with a shrug.

She didn't believe him. As if to challenge his doubts, she said, "Good—I'm going out again tonight. So, I may leave before Barret gets here."

Perhaps the date ended better than she let on. "Another date?" Cloud tried to keep the worry from his voice, but she turned to face him with an eyebrow raised. "Aren't you going a little fast? You just had one yesterday."

She blew out an exasperated breath and regarded him with a hand on her hip. "We're moving a little slow, actually," she said and turned away from him to head upstairs, ending the conversation before he could ask more questions.

Yuffie hung up the phone, exhausted from her father's ranting about ShinRa, Turks, SOLDIERs, and the WRO's incompetence. The news that Kunsel and Cissnei were no longer in his custody landed as expected. He was raving mad and wanted her to come home for good. Wutai was important; the rest of the world be damned. Her obligations were at home. Not in the ruins of greed.

The report from the shipping logs, along with images of WRO's pharmaceuticals, didn't help matters. They'd confiscated Cissnei's meds when her father's spies figured out who she was, at least what they could find. The Turk's serum differed from the treatment the WRO provided for the pregnant girl who passed recently. Yuffie's father sent the report to her personally, demanding she investigate it before heading back.

Photos of the serums meant nothing to her; she would have to show them to Rayleigh and discover what happened. It was more than a little suspicious. But there was the possibility that ShinRa developed their own treatment.

Her husband appeared in the doorway, bearing lunch and a brown bag sealed with a ShinRa logo. She immediately snatched it from his hands.

"What the hell is this?"

"I dunno," Yuri shrugged. "There was a courier outside in the hall when I got back. He asked me to sign for it and said it was for Mr. Valentine. You want me to take it to him?"

"No, I'll take care of this." Yuffie glared at the bag in her hands, tearing open the seal to look inside. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

She stomped out of her office, already in a foul mood. Just whose side was Vincent on? The Turks came and went as they pleased around headquarters. And Reeve knew damn well they should be under surveillance when anywhere near the WRO. But ShinRa sending care packages to their favorite former employee was too much.

His door was propped open along with a window, presumably to allow fresh air. In proper Vincent form, he stared outside, pondering the universe and his role in it and probably everything wrong in the cosmos that was personally his fault.

She barged in, knowing he wouldn't like the intrusion but not giving a damn. "Hey, I know they're your besties or whatever now. But those turkeys should have an escort in the building."

"What is it, Yuffie?" He didn't turn to her.

"Well, this package arrived for you—with a ShinRa logo, no less. So, they're sending you presents now? What is this? A thank you gift for all ShinRa has done for you over the last century?"

The window proved to be more fascinating. It was like she was invisible. Yuffie pressed her lips together, growing more frustrated with his lack of acknowledgment. "Why are the Turks buying you clothes? Oh, and here's a note, too. It's from Elena."

"What does it say?"

"These should fit. Let me know if gray isn't your color. Elena,"Yuffie said in singsong, then snorted. "So what? Is this your new Turk uniform?"

Vincent reached out a hand for the bag, glaring when she rudely tossed it to him. He pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a gray blazer and only gazed at the attire with a lost look in his eyes.

"Um, hello? Gaia to Vincent—"

"What"

She blinked at him. "Why are you so distracted?"

"Oh, that reminds me," he said, snapping out of his daze. "We need to talk." His tone sounded too fatherly—or older brotherly.

"O—kay." Yuffie braced herself. The way he leaned against his desk as though preparing to admonish her made her feel like a small child. "Well, what is it?"

"Tifa."

"W—what about her?"

"Don't involve yourself with her dating life." More of an order than a threat, nevertheless his tone was uncompromising.

"Why not?"

He breathed out through his nose impatiently, staring her down though knowing she wouldn't be intimidated by him. Who was he to demand—

"Wait," she gasped and pointed an accusatory finger at his chest. "What's going on? Are you two—?"

He continued to glare but said nothing. So very Vincent of him.

"Are you gonna say anything?" Her voice rose with a hint of anger. "Vincent?"

"It's our business."

He bundled the bag in his cape, then closed the window. When he looked at her, his expression was serious and a little somber. Yuffie gulped. She didn't fear him; she knew he'd never hurt her. But this look was different. There was hurt behind his eyes, personal and fresh.

"I only want her to be happy," Yuffie said softly, rueful worry shading her tone.

"Same," Vincent replied and held out a hand, politely asking her to leave his office.

When she returned to her desk, Yuri had finished his lunch. He didn't notice the sadness in her eyes and happily regaled her with an assignment he was working on with one of Reeve's security squads. She ate silently. Guilt crept into her chest and made it hard to swallow. She'd only been trying to help.

The kids were so loud Barret could hear them in the driveway. Long weekend meant excitement for an extra day off, no homework, or school to ruin their fun. He didn't blame them. He'd been a kid once too. But hell, he was looking forward to his holiday, too. He just hoped Tifa wouldn't ask too many questions about leaving the kids. He didn't intend the hotel he booked for family entertainment.

"Daddy! Cloud tried to make us some ramen, but he burned the water!" Marlene stuffed her mouth full of sandwich, satisfied with herself as she dangled her feet from her position on the counter.

"I didn't burn the water," Cloud said defensively. "And I thought we had a deal. You don't tell on me, and I let you have a piece of Tifa's dumbapple pie."

The kitchen was a disaster area. Tifa must be out shopping. She'd never let it get this bad. "When's Tifa getting back?" Barret hoped soon. He needed to shore up babysitting so he could message his lady friend about what time to meet.

"She's getting ready for her date," Marlene happily supplied.

"A date?!"

Cloud confirmed with a single nod and solemn mouth.

"Yeah, and she's wearing this really pretty green dress and those tall sandals that hurt her feet." Marlene took another bite, oblivious to Barret's shock from her revelation.

"Are we still staying the night?" Denzel asked hopefully.

Barret shrugged and looked to Cloud with the question. He wordlessly nodded again, eliciting a 'Yes!' from Denzel, who rushed upstairs.

"I'm gonna play a game in my room," Denzel called out.

Barret sighed in relief. At least his plans were intact. But that didn't help his sudden anxiety about Tifa dating.

When Cloud rose to start cleaning, Barret trailed. "So, who's this date with?"

Cloud shook his head, washing the ramen pot and running the disposal, the sound drowning their conversation from Marlene's ears.

"Someone Yuffie set her up with. They went out last night, too."

"Yuffie?!" That damn ninja couldn't possibly come up with a good match. Had he known Tifa was looking, he would've set her up with someone he could keep a close eye on.

"And what's his name?"

Cloud opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a knock at the door. A moment later, it opened, and Marlene jumped from the counter with a screech.

"Vincent!" She dove at the man and clutched at his waist.

Only this didn't look like Vincent, at least not in those clothes.

"Vince! What's with the get-up?" Barret asked, staring at the quite ordinary black leather shoes on the man's feet.

Vincent glanced down at his clothes as though seeing his attire for himself for the first time. Barret didn't recall ever seeing Vincent without a cape and certainly not in regular pants and a gray blazer.

Barret blinked, slowly closing his eyes and opening them again at the sight. Cloud was equally stunned and silently turned back to the dishes, setting his lips into a thin line.

Footsteps echoed from the stairs. "Tifa! You're so pretty!"

"Well, thank you, sweetie. So are you!" Tifa beamed a thousand-watt smile at Vincent, an appreciative glint shimmering in her eyes as she looked him over.

Slow dawning rushed over Barret. He turned away from the two rushing headlong into disaster and focused his ire on Cloud with a heated glare.

"Hey, Marlene. Want to let go of my dinner date?" Tifa pulled Marlene into a hug and kissed her cheek. "Well, you guys have fun. Come on, Vincent." As she pulled Vincent through the door, she glanced back at Cloud. "Don't wait up for me," she said and closed the door behind them.

Cloud irritably threw a dishtowel into the sink. "Let's go to a movie, Marlene."

The little girl cheered and raced up the stairs, yelling for her brother to turn off the game and put his shoes back on.

"We gonna talk about this?" Barret asked Cloud.

"There's nothing talk about," Cloud said, crossing his arms.

Maybe there was, and maybe there wasn't. Barret would have to think this through—after his own date night.