Chapter 44

Read a Manual


εγλ September 0014

They fell into a comfortable rhythm over the next week. Nights that she worked the bar, he'd meet her there, and she'd cook him dinner. When her staff closed, Tifa would make the commute to West Village. Eventually, her things accumulated in his bathroom and his closet began to fill with her clothes.

Vincent didn't mind. If anything, he liked seeing her toothbrush next to his very much. He had more to look forward to than he'd ever dreamed. Tifa had taken over his closet, adorning hangers with her blouses and skirts she wore on nights they went dancing.

This was the life he wanted. But he still needed to be more part of it. Part of its circle of life. Like Tifa.

Despite Vincent's frustration over the blizzard in Modeoheim thwarting his search efforts, Vincent dared to feel a contentment and happiness with Tifa. He scratched at his sternum, at the slight buzz he felt when he recalled their disagreement the previous week. The topic of Cloud was one they both avoided, and Vincent wasn't sure how disagreements were supposed to work themselves out. But regardless of the worries at home, he needed to turn his attention north once and for all. Brukho had eluded them long enough. Vincent resolved to leave by the next night, blizzard or no.


The WRIPer office space still appeared woefully empty. Reeve still hadn't hired any additional WRIPer agents. She and Vincent were it!

And Yuri.

Yuffie eyed her husband as she twirled the cord to her desk phone and listened to the pharmacy manager argue about everything. 'That's not our current procedure. Authority lies with the WRO's licensed doctors, which you are not.'

"Uh, huh," Yuffie said and rolled her eyes. "I understand. I'm not a doctor, Amy. Agreed! But Commissioner Tuesti appointed myself and Yuri as final approvers on all shipments of Mako-based serum meds to third parties."

'The commissioner's email says you are to receive a copy of each order—not that it requires your approval, Ms. Kisaragi.'

"Heh…well, yeah…but just make sure you send it to me before the shipment goes out." She hung up the phone and tapped Yuri on the shoulder.

"I've been thinking," he said, looking up from his book. "Shouldn't I get my own office?"

"What for?" Yuffie's eyes opened wide, innocent, her husband's request striking her as the dumbest idea since mako energy. She couldn't understand his thought process. How can she communicate effectively with him if he's not sitting at the corner of her desk? "Anyway, why don't you go run the perp so we can get this investigation moving again?"

"He's not a perp. He's a witness."

"Whatever. Just get going. I'm gonna let Vincent know what we've uncovered. He's gonna shit materia!"


Rarely does Vincent ever feel exhausted. But seeing the ninja lazing in his chair, feet propped on the desk, he suddenly felt his true age.

"What is it?" he asked, not making eye contact as he checked his phone.

"Ooooh, whatcha looking at? Are you sexting with Tifa?"

He enlarged the image on the screen and showed her a weather map. "Just checking the weather near Modeoheim. This blizzard has lasted longer than any on record."

"Really? I didn't think we could monitor the weather there."

"We don't. That's why I said near there." He motioned for her to get out of his office, knowing well she wouldn't until she said something ridiculous.

"Whatever. You need to come with me," she said, raising her feet high in the air before she plopped them down in front of her.

"And why would I do that?"

"Don't ask dumb questions!" Yuffie had the nerve to pull on his cape. When he didn't follow, she actually leaned back, tugging. "Ugh! Come—on!"

"Yuffie," he said, the breath coming out of his nose sounded impatient even to him.

"Just—ugh—trust—me." She pulled and pulled. How is this young woman royalty?

A button popped off his cape, and she tumbled onto the floor, sprawled out on her backside, which Vincent considered sweet justice indeed. She growled at her predicament as she gnashed her teeth and beat the tiles with her fists.

"Use your words."

"Fine!" she huffed, planting her feet beneath her and springing up in a single leap. She glared, hands on her hips. "I have more intel on Pilpub."

At his single nod, she continued. "Well! Yuri was asking around at the café—don't look at me like that! We know what we're doing. I gave him a manual. Remember? On how to ask questions without asking questions so he wouldn't appear suspicious? Anyway, the barista told him one of their couriers delivers coffee and scones to a warehouse these old SOLDIERs hang out at sometimes, like every Thursday. Guess what today is!"

"Can I get a hint?"

She rolled her eyes at him before they narrowed. "Come on. You know we've done well. Let's go get more information on where it's at. We'll need to flex some muscle," she said, posing her arms and straining her biceps.

Yuri already waited for them in the café, high on caffeine, and shirt covered in pastry crumbs.

The café manager intercepted Yuffie as she crossed the floor to her husband. "Is there something else we can help you with, miss?" The woman was already annoyed—she'd dealt with Yuffie before.

"Like I promised, I'm following up on our interview," Yuffie replied. "We need to talk to the delivery guy again."

"This is a coffee shop, not a cartel. We're not doing anything illegal," the woman said and seemed to shrink a little as she looked at Vincent. "The WRO can't stop deliveries to the ruins just because there's no registered addresses. Not everyone has a mailbox in Edge, you know!"

Yuffie softened her expression. "Hey, I gotcha. No one's judging and your café is providing a valuable service. We just need to find out where those boxes were going."

"Why now?" she retorted angrily. "We've been receiving deliveries from the pharmacy for months and no one cared until yesterday! You showing up here is bad for business!"

Yuffie snickered. "Pfft! Whatever, lady. Without the WRO, this is no business." She sauntered past the seething manager and leaned in close to her husband. "Anything new?"

Yuri pointed at the 'Employees Only' sign. "My informant is in there."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Informant?"

The young Wutaiin jutted out his chin. "Yeah, informant." He whipped a small book out of his back pocket. "Yuffie told me to read a manual on interrogation techniques. So, I did."

At Vincent's dubious expression, he continued. "It's basically a former spy's secret interrogation techniques explaining how to ask questions without asking questions. You know—a manual."

Yuri thrust the book under Vincent's nose. "A Former Spy's Secret Interrogation Techniques: How to Ask Questions Without Asking Questions—A Manual."

Vincent wanted to facepalm. Are these kids serious?

He didn't have to wonder. Yuffie marched past the barista, pretending to be oblivious to shouts of 'you can't go in there' and kicked at the swinging door to the storage room. "Yo! Delivery boy!"

The kid jumped from a crouch over his boxes when he saw her. "I told you guys already—you know everything!"

"Is that so?" Yuffie's favorite pose had to be the hands on her hips with a signature glare. Vincent would laugh, but the situation was far more serious than that.

The delivery boy turned white when Vincent entered the room, a visible quiver on his lips. Before he could run, Yuffie grabbed him by the ear.

"Ow! Ow! Ow."

She dragged him in front of Vincent, ignoring the squeal. "Are you sure we know everything? See this scary guy with the cape?" Yuffie asked, then continued in a whisper, "I'm not so sure he doesn't have vampire fangs. You feel me, SOLDIER mule?"

The boy paled and nodded frantically.

"Well, he wants to know what you know. Got it?" Again, more nodding at her question. "Now, you said this warehouse was hidden past the south of Edge at an unknown address. Where is that?"

Vincent bore down on the boy with the stare he knew would terrify a coven of devils. The boy whimpered before he could find his voice. "The…the…there's n-no str…street number. Id…id…It's in n—n the ruins."

Yuffie grabbed him by the shirt. "Get walking! You're leading this field trip."

Vincent would never tell her, but Yuffie would've made one helluva Turk.


But still—he wasn't sure this kind of thing sat well with him anymore. Though it wasn't the first time Vincent turned a blind eye, and this instance lacked the same guilt, seeing the tiny woman bully the delivery boy into marching through the alleys like a prisoner of war reminded him of some filthy tactics he'd once employed as a Turk.

The young man grumbled under his breath, eyes never leaving Vincent as Yuffie kept a firm hand at his back. But he finally stopped stuttering when he spoke, seeming to lose fear he would suffer permanent damage. Vincent understood too well how innocent Yuffie seemed from an outsider's perspective.

"They wouldn't even use the cafe if the WRO would deliver packages to the ruins! But no!" he said, ducking his shoulder away from Yuffie's hand as she attempted to shove him forward. "The ruins don't get addresses! And they don't mail stuff without an address!"

"Mm-hm." Yuri nodded, earning him a glare from his wife. "What? He's not wrong. Maybe this is something we can bring up to the commissioner."

"Pfft! Yeah, right! Most people clinging to the ruins don't wanna be part of civilization. Have you considered that?! They like living outside the law and outside of our reach."

The trek ended at Midgar's border. Destruction and rubble covered the streets amid the few remaining buildings that hadn't yet collapsed. Yuffie grabbed the boy's scruff. "This is it?"

He nodded again with frantic urgency. "Yeah, I guess. But they haven't ordered anything in a while. Not sent to the cafe, at least. I haven't seen anyone here in weeks."

"Alright, listen up. You get any more of these delivery requests—I want you to call me." Yuffie handed him a business card. When did she have those made?

Vincent glanced at the wording: WRIPer Agent Kisaragi.

And included a hotline for anonymous tips.

Yuri offered to walk him back to the cafe as Vincent and Yuffie quietly approached. The warehouse peeked out of the ruins as the lone structure with a fully intact roof and walls and appeared free of scavengers coming to pilfer its remains.

They crouched behind a group of haphazardly stacked barrels, empty of the contents they once held. No one emerged from the rusting building, and Vincent heard no trace of activity.

"Anything?" Yuffie asked.

"Nothing."

She stood with a sigh. "What do ya think? They already cut and run?"

"Hm." He couldn't be sure. From the outside, the place looked as abandoned as everything else. "Let's get a closer look. Holler if you get scared."

Vincent leapt into the air at her scoff. He circled the warehouse atop nearby, collapsing rooftops, checking through the top windows before he swept inside via an access door by the turbine. He descended onto a loft littered with discarded food and bedding. A few someone's had been sleeping in this hovel.

Yuffie entered through an unsecure door and covered her mouth with a slight hand. "Eww! Smells like the underside of a behemoth in here." Vincent looked down at her from his perch when she shined a flashlight his way. "Anything interesting up there?"

He shook his head and swept down to meet her. The lower level was more interesting. Old lab equipment and empty canisters were piled into a corner. No evidence of their use, though they did find empty syringes. He motioned for Yuffie to put a few in a small box. "We'll have Reeve send a team to gather this. Wouldn't want it in the wrong hands."

"What about those nasty syringes?" she asked, crinkling her nose. "Don't tell me those are reusable."

Vincent leaned down, scrutinizing the remnants clinging to the inside of the syringes as Yuffie shined her flashlight at him. He plucked one from the pile before securing it among his own autoinjectors hidden inside his cape pocket. Yuffie watched him but said nothing. He had no idea what she suspected about his keeping his own needles close to his chest. But she was a smart young lady.

"Rayleigh's team can find out what was in them," he replied. "If I had to guess…they used this warehouse for logistics only. Wait for their shipments, get supplies and gear in Edge before fleeing to their true hideouts."

"Yeah, but we still don't know where the SOLDIERs are…just one more clue where they aren't. What's that look for?"

He tossed an old canteen on the dusty floor. "We do know they're near."

"But they're not here."

He gave her a hard stare. "We know they're in Midgar. Or at least some of them are. Call Reeve. Have him send Rayleigh's crews to seize this stuff."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Enlist the help of our SOLDIERs."


An enlarged map, showing Midgar's ruins, lit up the computer screen. Pete highlighted an alleyway in old Sector One. "We exited here from a manhole. No active labs under this section."

"What about the surface?" Vincent asked. Perhaps what they sought moved into the open air instead. A good strategy, considering no one would suspect labs to operate out in the open.

"WRO's regular security teams patrol often to keep fiends from entering Edge," Pete said. "But as far as humans, we only found small-time criminals, vagabonds and homeless who've somehow managed to avoid getting eaten or mangled."

"Hm." Vincent glanced at Pete's arm. Dark stripes still webbed down the arm bitten by the hybrid Heg snake. The striations looked wicked and circulated all the way to Pete's elbow.

Vincent looked back at the map. Midgar was immense. The ruins stretched for miles in every direction, and before Meteor, it was the largest city in the world. Rogue SOLDIERs, mad scientists, could easily hide in the sectors furthest from modern civilization. "Where are you going next?"

Pete circled the western area of the rubble. "We're basically working in an arch and then we sweep in toward old ShinRa HQ. That way—there're fewer places for anyone to hide. The debris gets thicker, harder to manage the closer you get to Reactor 0."

"What about here?" Vincent pointed to a warehouse in the southern ruins. It was the only location he had yet to search, the last point the Turks revealed in their efforts to appear cooperative, and Vincent's last hope that he'd find something worth his time.

The rest of the Turk's coordinates he'd marked as abandoned, except Modeoheim. He'd still found no presence there at all. Snow continued to cause visibility problems and travel delays. He'd reconned the location of every other abandoned hideout, but felt in his gut that his focus to find the scientist should be on Modeoheim. Abandoned long ago by ShinRa and not on WRO's radar of interest, the snowy wilderness would be ideal for secret laboratories.

He looked at the coordinates in Midgar. It seemed a likely place rogue SOLDIERs could set up a base of operations, particularly if ShinRa was their priority. It had to be arrogance that led Rufus to set up an office so close to their old home. Secluded Healen would make more sense, if ShinRa could ever be accused of having any.

"We've made sectors closest to Edge our priority," Pete said. "Do you have intel on that area?"

"The Turks provided it," Vincent replied. "They have reasons, unknown to me, to believe it's where some of your old buddies are hunkered and planning a strike."

Pete whistled low and studied the map. "We'll make it our next scout, then. I'll prepare the team to move out before dawn. Will you be joining us on this one?" Pete almost sounded hopeful.

"I have an appointment in Modeoheim that's been delayed long enough. You can relay your findings to me."

"Sounds good, sir." His cargo pants buzzed, and Pete reached for his phone. He smiled as he read a message, then glanced back at Vincent. "I have nothing else to report."

Vincent nodded, catching the hint. "Same." He watched Pete gather up his laptop and gear and felt awkward at not having engaged in some sort of friendly small talk. Pete's wife was Tifa's friend, after all. And they'd shared a friendly beer tab.

"How is your family?" The question sounded awkward even to Vincent's ears.

Pete looked at Vincent in surprise as he tucked the computer under his arm. "Ah! Great!" He grinned like a schoolboy in a candy shop. "There's nothing better than being a father and having a pretty wife." He waved before hurrying from the WRIPer conference room.

Envy befriends no one—Vincent even less. But the SOLDIER seemed well-deserving of his idyllic life, and Vincent couldn't begrudge him the storybook family. It's not as though life hadn't improved for Vincent, either. Depression was no longer his constant companion, and the corruptions hummed so low Vincent could often forget they existed in his bloodstream.

He pulled out his phone, mouth curving up one cheek, and typed out a message.

VincentHope your day is nice. Can't wait to see you later.

She answered back almost immediately. Warmth spread in his chest. This is the way things should be.

Tifa:So, what are you wearing?

Tifa:Right now

A devious smile formed on his face as he typed out a reply.

Vincent:My gauntlet.

He nearly held his breath in anticipation of what she might send next as he watched the 'message being sent' alert flash above the text field. Tingling excitement welled in his belly as the cursor blinked. It stopped a moment before resuming, only mounting his anticipation for her reply to his brazen sexting attempt.

But another message popped up on his phone and Vincent's disappointment pulled his silly grin downward.

ReeveNo surprise, I think. Rayleigh confirmed syringes from warehouse contained trace amounts of a Mako-based healing agent.

ReeveLikely same formula developed by Hojo to speed recovery of seriously injured SOLDIERs.

ReeveNot the sort of drug paraphernalia we've seen since Mako-junkies roamed the slums. Someone is producing these. It's not from us or ShinRa.

ReeveI'm forwarding Rayleigh's report to you and Yuffie.

The news wasn't unexpected, necessarily. Vincent wouldn't have guessed the exact contents of the needle, but knew it had Mako. Now the question became 'who was making it for whom?'

His phone pinged again.

TifaPics or it didn't happen.

Vincent almost blushed at the thought of sending Tifa a picture of himself wearing little to nothing. Maybe just his gauntlet and cape? Would she find that appealing? Another thought came to mind that sent his blood flowing lower, and he tapped a reply quickly.

VincentYou first.


"So, who ya sexting? Or should I even guess? Ow!" Kunsel tucked his arm close to his ribs against his girlfriend's sharp fingers.

"So crude," Cissnei said before sipping her tea, and gave a wink just before Tifa's phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Tifa hugged the phone close to her chest and slid out of her booth seat. "I'll just take this in the kitchen."

"That steamy, huh?" Kunsel teased again.

Tifa gave him a fake glower and looked at the screen, a curious smile pulling at her lips. "Hmm, actually, this one is from Reeve."

"Uh oh." Kunsel whistled low, then covered his head with both arms as the two women jabbed him. "Ok! Ok! Just kidding! Shiva!"

Tifa laughed and walked toward the kitchen. "I'll be right back."

A mild panic set in that something happened to Vincent or Yuffie or the baby. Reeve rarely called her unless there was an emergency. She calmed herself before answering. "Hi Reeve! How's WRO life today?"

"Same as ever," came his reply. "Are you having a busy day?"

"Same as ever here, too. Is everything…ok? Did something happen?" She leaned against the counter, arm circling around her waist as she waited for his reply.

"Oh, everything is fine. Actually, I'm calling about the baby."

Tifa stood straight, stomach lurching a moment. "The baby? Is…Luxiere…did something happen?" she asked again, unable to keep the panic from her voice.

"No, nothing happened. This call is a bit formal. We need to get the child's near-term future settled. He can't live in a hospital when there are better options. I'm sure you'll agree."

Her breath came fast, and she choked up a little with excitement. "Oh! Yes! Does…this mean Luxiere is giving him up for adoption?"

"Well, not exactly. Lux still spends a lot of time with his child. However, our psychiatrist hasn't yet approved him for anything beyond parental visitation. Luxiere won't be taking the child home any time soon."

"Oh, that's too bad. So, what's the situation, then?" Tifa tried to contain any hope for herself but was sure Reeve couldn't hear her excitement through the connection.

"The WRO Child Services Division and Dr. Bernard agree that the child would be better served in a foster home."

"Really?" Tifa knew he heard the little cheer in her voice as he gave a chuckle back to her. She took a breath before continuing. "I'm going to assume you're calling me because I've been selected. Does…Luxiere know about this? That I'll be taking the baby?"

"Oddly enough, Luxiere is aware and expressed satisfaction with the arrangement. We told him this morning and let him know he would still have visitation rights to his child. Within a WRO-safe environment, of course."

"Of course!" Tifa replied, nearly squealing with glee.

"We'll work out all those details and a schedule. You'll need to come by to fill out the application and questionnaire. And a social worker will come to inspect the home, too. This is all procedure, you understand, Tifa. We can't bypass policy, but I'm told you can use me as one of your references. Just know that if you use my name, I will have to recuse myself from any decision-making committee for the child."

"All good with me, Reeve. I'll get things ready here." Tifa returned to the bar, all grins and skipping feet.

"Good news, I take it?"

Tifa threw her arms around Kunsel's neck for a friendly hug. "Yes! I'm going to be a mom again!"

The table shook as Cissnei let out a groan and Tifa felt the smaller woman's foot rocket under the table at her shins. "Speaking of becoming a mom." She rubbed her enlarged belly and leaned back into the booth cushions. "That may have been a contraction."

Kunsel's eyes widened. "Now?" He stood up, surprise and panic on his face as his hands tore at his hair. He looked around the bar like he was lost. "But…we're not at the hospital!"

Tifa laughed as Cissnei shot him a dumbfounded look. "Babies don't care about that!" She continued to rub her belly and stretched her legs across the seat Kunsel had just vacated. "Besides…I think it was a false contraction."

Kunsel sat at the edge of the booth next to Cissnei's feet. Tifa smiled at the two of them as he removed one of Cissnei's shoes and began massaging. "Like prodromal labor? You sure?"

Cissnei's eyes shuttered. "Look who found his brain. Anyway, I'm fine. Just some cramps still to work out from all that time I spent in a hospital bed."

Tifa stood up again. "I'll get us more tea? You want anything else, Cissnei?"

"Mm," she replied as she shook her head with eyes closed. "Nope, more tea sounds divine."

The bar was quiet, the dinner crowd not yet off work or out of traffic. Tifa placed a tea kettle on the table and slid into the booth. Kunsel poured a cup for his wife, then took a healthy swig of his beer. "Ah," he licked his lips. "Now, about the baby's name."

"So, what have you decided on?" Tifa asked, excited to hear their choices.

"Kunsel Junior," he said with a cocky grin.

Cissnei elbowed her husband. "We're not naming the baby Kunsel Junior!" He kissed his girlfriend's cheek, then stuck his tongue out at her. Their banter was a breath of fresh air to Tifa's stifling worry. She'd gotten used to Cissnei's frail and pale appearance. The playfulness brought a flush to the tiny woman's cheeks and eased Tifa's mind that her health was improving.

Cloud entered with his usual morose expression. Kunsel shot out of the booth to clap his friend's shoulder, like he was eager to remove himself from the woes of womanhood and find shelter with masculine fellowship.

"He doesn't know it yet, but we're going to head out," Cissnei said, and scooted from her seat. She groaned a bit at the end. "Ugh—I've got some messages to sort through from Elena. Just want to get it done so I can start maternity leave."

"Let me get you some food for takeout." Tifa helped her up with a supportive arm. Once in the family kitchen, Tifa stacked food boxes into a paper bag.

Cissnei covered Tifa's hands with her own. "Thank you, Tifa. For everything. I know I'm not as friendly as the others, but—it means a lot. Especially when you step in for Pete. Kunsel mentioned you help them out—with appointments and catering—"

Her face contorted, hand clutching her belly. "Mm," she groaned.

Tifa steadied her. "Cissnei—are you—"

Cissnei blew out a breath and gave Tifa a forced smile. "Fine, fine. Just some cramping, like I said earlier."

As she waved off Tifa's worried expression, Cloud entered the kitchen and stuck his head in the fridge. "We got any of that Sahagin Jerky left?"

"Hey, Cloud," Cissnei said, one hand pressed into her lower back, the other cradling her belly. "How's your ankle doing?"

"It's cool," he said. "I barely limp anymore. See?"

As Cloud demonstrated his walking ability, Tifa studied Cissnei's face, convinced she was indeed not fine.

"Cissnei?" Tifa grabbed onto her shoulders and guided Cissnei toward a chair. "You should probably sit down. Are you sure it's just cramps?"

Cloud seemed to back away in horror from them. Tifa would've pushed him out of the kitchen but felt she needed to prop Cissnei up for fear she would topple onto the floor.

The tiny redhead blew out a heavy breath through her teeth. "I think…something's happening?" She didn't need to tell Tifa twice. The pain was evident in her eyes.

"Kunsel!"

Like he was carried on wings, the man flew into the kitchen and swept Cissnei into his arms. Tifa barely kept up as she dashed behind him out to the driveway, Cloud close on her heels.

"Tifa!" Kunsel turned panicked eyes on her. "Cissnei's car keys are on the table—"

"Worry about that later. I'll drive!" She pushed him and his cargo into the passenger side of her little green truck.

Cloud blocked her path to the driver's seat. "Why don't you let me drive them and you can take their car to the hospital?"

"Or," Tifa said, shoving him aside. "I'll drive my truck and you bring their car to the hospital."

Cloud held the door open as Tifa climbed in. "I think it would be better if you let me—"

"Oh, will you shut the fuck up and come on, Cloud!"

At Cissnei's shout, Cloud slammed the door and hopped into the bed of Tifa's truck, hitting the roof twice just before Tifa started the engine. "We'll come back for your car later. Let's go, Tifa."

"Can we get a move on now?" Kunsel said, panic setting into his voice. "I want to get her checked in properly and have time to put our birthing plan into action."

"You just hold her and we'll see how fast my little green machine can go!"

Cissnei snorted through a pained breath. "Heh, heh! Green machi—hnnnngh! "

"Cissnei!" Kunsel sounded more tortured than his girlfriend.

"Not…gonna…make…it!"

Tifa thought Cissnei might be right. As soon as they drove into the main thoroughfare, they were sitting in wall-to-wall traffic. The smell of exhaust permeated the air.

Cloud peaked into the window on Tifa's side. "Might be quicker if you hang the next right and take the service road all the way to main square. From there—"

"I got it! I got it!" She took a hard right, nearly missing the turn as Kunsel braced his knees in the tiny truck to hold Cissnei in position.

"You ok, hun?" he asked.

"Oh, happy as a…ungh…kimara bug on poop!" Cissnei said through her teeth.

Then her water broke.

Kunsel actually jumped back in surprise as his clothes were suddenly drenched at his lap. "What the—isn't that supposed to happen before the contractions start?" Poor Kunsel choked when Cissnei grabbed him by the throat.

"Did you read a manual?!"

They didn't get very far over the next hour. Cissnei traded off between hunching over with the pain of her contractions and leaning back into Kunsel's chest breathing slow, intermittent with low moans. Tifa was shocked at how quickly the labor was progressing. But she knew these births typically went faster than a standard pregnancy.

Cloud wasn't helping matters—at all. His actions varied between sticking his head through the window and ordering Tifa to drive his way and banging on the roof followed by shouts of his navigational demands. As she stopped at a red light, Tifa waited for his head to appear, planning jab him in the eye if he told her to drive in the median again.

As traffic started moving again, Cissnei leaned forward and braced a hand against the ceiling. "I think—" She gnashed her teeth as another wave of pain silenced her.

"Don't think, hun. Just relax," Kunsel said, thinking he was helpful.

"You relax!"

Tifa chanced a glance at the woman. Cissnei had reached between her legs. "Kuns…I think—" She contorted again.

"Breathe! Breathe!" Kunsel gathered her hair back. "What do you think, hun? Tell me."

Tifa swiveled her head like a hungry owl, searching for any opening to get them off the roadway-turned-parking-lot.

"It's the head!" Cissnei squealed with panic.

"Are you sure? The head?" Kunsel looked to Tifa. "Is that even possible this fast?" He screamed when Cissnei snatched a handful of his hair.

"I said I felt it! Don't fact check me!"

Tifa had never heard such a high-pitched shriek since they'd come across banshees in—

"How much longer?" Kunsel asked. Tifa turned her head to him like he'd gone crazy. Just how did he expect her to drive through metal?

"Maybe I should run with you the whole way," Kunsel suggested. "It's only—what? Ten miles?"

"Are you nuts?!" Cissnei suddenly sounded demonic. Tifa wasn't sure Kunsel would survive the birth. "Oh…oh—" She reached between her legs again, leaning back and spreading her feet wide on the dashboard. "I can…I swear…fuck! It's the head—it's stuck! Should I push? I wanna push—"

"We're not there yet, hun. Don't push!" Kunsel fanned her with a hand. "Are you sure you're not just too hot?"

"Stop that!" Cissnei swatted his hand away. She cried with pain, one hand between her legs, the other cradling her lower belly. "The head—"

"We're not at the hospital yet, hun. You're imagining it because it hurts," he smartly deduced. Now Tifa wanted to slap him. Suddenly the smartest SOLDIER she knew had devolved into the biggest dunderhead.

But before she could reach over and smack the back of his head, Cissnei performed a feat of acrobatics most women couldn't achieve while not in labor. She twisted her small, impregnated body and swung a leg around to grip her boyfriend's head between her thighs, forcing Kunsel into an oddly bent position.

"The fucking head is right there!" Cissnei squeezed, and it was Kunsel's turn to grunt with pain. "The baby's not waiting for the hospital, you mako-brained idiot!"

Cloud chose that moment to peak through the window. "You can get off at this ex—" His head pulled back, startled as he took in the scene inside the cabin. "What the fuck is going on?"

Cissnei continued to squeeze Kunsel's head tightly between her thighs with her back against the dashboard. "Oh, fuck! Babe! I see the head!" Kunsel shouted, though sounded muffled. "Shit!"

Shit! They really wouldn't make it!

"Shit!" Kunsel said again and Tifa would've laughed, but the SOLDIER was practically nose deep in—

"I see the head! Tifa! Pull over!"

"Ok. But they better move—cause I'm coming through!" She honked, tried steering to the right. But the assholes didn't move!

The commuters ignored Tifa's blaring horn and clear intent. One guy in particular even moved to cut her off. He made a gesture. Tifa made one back—then gunned the pedal. His smaller car took the brunt of the impact on his front bumper. She smashed her foot harder as he bellowed out of his window, using colorful language about her sexual interludes and lady parts.

Tifa heard Cissnei snicker through her pain. "That was a good one, Tifa—ugh. Fuck! One for the…books! Hngh!"

The guy's insults fueled Tifa's motivation. She revved her engine, then released the brake to slam into the prick again. Eventually, his tiny little sports car ended up on the sidewalk while Tifa lucked out and drifted into a parallel park that would impress the strictest of driving instructors.

Tifa threw the truck into park and jumped out of the drivers seat to give Cissnei more room. The other driver squeezed out of his midlife crisis mobile, fists raised and ready to fight, yelling about 'dumb bitch drivers' as he grabbed Tifa by the elbow. He didn't have time to think about his regrets before he crumpled onto the concrete with a serious nosebleed.

Cars pulled around them, people suddenly eager to stop and help now that an accident had occurred, and a short fight ensued. They gathered around her truck, peeking inside at a woman's howl of pain. Cloud held his arms wide in front of the passenger side window, but it did little to block the view of several people taller than him.

"You gotta—hiiingh—be—fucking—kidding me!" Cissnei screeched. Tifa joined Cloud and tried her best to shield Cissnei's body from onlookers.

"Honey, can you lean back? Lay down or something? I can't see," Kunsel requested—nicely.

"Half of Edge just saw my coochie! What didn't you see?!"

Tifa peaked over her shoulder and offered to lend her help. The truck's small cabin wasn't ideally set up as a birthing room, but Cissnei managed to hoist herself up in a crouched position, one hand behind her on the wheel, the other plunged into Kunsel's hair in a vicelike grip.

"Kunsel, I think this position is fine—here," Tifa eased around him and sat as much as she could on the floorboard. "I'll support her from this side. You just—get ready to catch."

"Catch?!" He paled.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Cloud said.

"Will you shut up and just…cover the windows or something?" Tifa shouted at him.

He whipped around toward them, trying to use his body as a shield between the open door's space. "How'm I supposed to do that?! Don't you have blankets in here? Should we use a Yuffie bag?"

Cissnei lashed out at Cloud suddenly with a quick kick to his chest, sending him stumbling backward onto the concrete. "Just shut up! I…hnngh…don't care…who…sees!"

Cloud wiped himself clean as he stood, shrugging at Tifa as she watched him with a glare. "Ok, well." He held his arms stretched out and began motioning the crowd backward. "Nothing to see folks. Just an everyday birth. Please…uh…return to your…uh…vehicles."

Tifa turned her attention back to Cissnei, doing her best to support the woman's back as she shifted between panting and pushing.

"Hngh! " Cissnei's face contorted. The contractions were close. She went silent, teeth gritting with the exertion of her push. Her slight chin shook—then she relaxed and breathed before another started. "Shiva—"

Tifa couldn't see the progress, only held Cissnei up as much as she could. Her eyes darted between them. Cissnei silently pushed, face turning red. And Kunsel had tears forming in his eyes, hands between her thighs.

"Oh god! Hun! I think—one more! One more!"

Cissnei relaxed for a few seconds, then every muscle seemed to contract. "Ggghhh! " Her voice then quieted as she pushed and pushed.

"Hun! Hun!" Suddenly he held a baby in his hands—and he started to cry in earnest. "A girl—Ciss—a girl."

Cissnei laid back into Tifa, breathing heavy, but looking over her belly to see her new daughter. She cried, Tifa cried—then the crowd behind them all cheered when the baby cried.

"Hun! The placenta—I just—" Kunsel suddenly stripped himself of his shirt and placed it over his daughter. Tifa helped Cissnei wipe the baby clean as Kunsel continued as midwife.

"Ow! Ow!" Cissnei cried out.

Kunsel tugged gently, this time releasing the placenta and placing it on Cissnei's thigh. Some of the crowd finally dispersed—not wanting to see the ugly part of the birth.

"Should we—cut it?" Cissnei said, lying back again, cradling her baby.

Kunsel chuckled. "Not necessary," he said, shaking his head. "We'll be good until we get to the hospital. It still has blood flowing in it."

Tifa wanted to laugh at his sudden re-discovery of his brain. She climbed out of the floorboard and searched for Cloud.

"Oh, shit!" She noticed him in a heap a few feet from the truck, a few bystanders trying to lift him.

"I think your friend peeked at the wrong moment. Seems he passed right out," a man wearing a suit said. "You need help with him?" He held Cloud under the arms, while another man lifted his feet. They both stared at Tifa expectantly.

"Um," she said, scratching her head. "Just…toss him in the bed. He'll wake up in a minute."

Tifa hoped this would make everyone's commute a little brighter. She stepped over the still-sleeping sports car man and eased back into the driver's seat.

"How lucky! Traffic cleared." She pulled out of the parking space and waved off the suddenly helpful commuters yielding from their path as they waved and clapped.

Kunsel gathered his family close in his arms. "God, I need a drink. Where's Pilpub when you need it?"