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Empress & Concubine, Part II	By : tinkerheck Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female Views: 1723 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII from the Final Fantasy Universe, or any of its forms or related media. I do not own these characters. I spent money to learn about this series, and I make no money in borrowing it.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
++++++++ Please see disclaimer & story notes in chapter one ++++++++
My thanks to mihoyonagi. I’m not sure I used the canon stuff with complete accuracy, but oh well. I think it’s close enough.
Lots of dialogue & sex, and a bit of a fright scene that’s not canon, just made up by me.
Mind the rating, and enjoy! :)
I fly beta-less. Please forgive the typos.

+

Empress & Concubine II
Chapter Three

Honeymoon

+

Yuffie Kisaragi knew she was out of practice, but she never expected that kind, caring Reeve Tuesti would be the one to help make that fact more obvious.
Their loving but whacky puppet-boy friend was truly a man of mirth, having left a heavy antique lock on the front door of their destination. His intentions had been nothing but good; all he wanted to do was give the Empress a warm fuzzy by having to break into Shinra mansion.
But Vincent felt ripe after their long journey, and his immediate concerns included showering, shaving and changing into a fresh pair of silks. Food, sex and sleep – in precisely that order – were beginning to invade his thoughts as well, but right then he’d settle for freshening up.
He was just about ready to push Yuffie aside and destroy the lock with one swipe of his gauntlet, cute farce be damned, when a satisfying click announced her success, and he sighed in relief.
“Finally.”
Yuffie removed the lock and cracked the door open, but looked back at him before opening it any further. “Vincent… are you, uh, sure… um, you know…”
“What I am is hungry and I want a bath, Yuffie.” She gave him a very concerned look. He frowned, staring down at her. “Oh, for the love… Am I what?”
“Well, I mean… are you gonna be all right, you know, staying here? With all the… scary history and painful memories… and all that… crap…”
Her question faded off when she glanced up at his face. He looked like he was about to send her to her room without dinner.
“Yuffie…” he sighed, growing impatient. He kept his voice deliberately deadpan. “I'm a grown-ass man, this shit doesn't bother me.”
She let go of the heavy brass handle and turned to face him fully, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes lighting up happily.
“Oh my gawd, Vincent! Did you totally just say grown-ass ma–”
Vincent grabbed Yuffie’s upper arm and pulled her aside. He slammed his gauntlet against the massive wooden door and it flung open, then he shoved her through the doorway. Hard.
Yuffie stumbled into the foyer of Shinra mansion laughing hysterically. Vincent curled his lip, stomping past her with their gear in hand, and headed straight for the dining room. When she began snorting from laughing so hard, he looked back at her with a sneer.
“Shut up, Yuffie.”
She covered her mouth and followed him into the dining room, but they both stopped in their tracks when they saw a gigantic fresh flower arrangement in the middle – watered, plump and beautiful, and obviously put there quite recently. Vincent dropped their bags on the ancient rug beneath his feet when he saw a hand-written note on the corner of the antique table.
Yuffie was already distracted learning the fragrances of the different varieties of flowers, so Vincent read the lengthy note over. When done, he huffed quietly to himself, then handed it to Yuffie.
“Looks like Reeve is not above teasing us for becoming romantically involved,” he sighed, making a beeline for the swinging door to the kitchen.
“Oh great. Now what?”

My Dearest Yuffie & Vincent,
Welcome to your secret getaway! I was thrilled when Madam Chekov called and asked for my confidence in helping her with this little bit of deception. How intriguing. She and I are the only people aware that you are here. The rest of your associates in Wutai, as well as our mutual friends, are aware that you’re on holiday and safe, but they do not know the particulars.
I suggest that while in Nibelheim you not advertise your presence and simply stay in. There is no TV, no landlines, and the small generators I had installed are being used for the appliances and some lighting.
Sorry about that. You’ll simply to find other ways to entertain yourselves. ;)
There is plenty of fresh feed and hay in the paddock for your chocobos, and a full cord of wood has been stacked at the back entrance, though I doubt you will need it in this heat.
The mansion has been cleaned – or, at least, the rooms you are likely to be using have been cleaned. And when I say cleaned I mean updated to a degree and sanitized. For instance, there is a brand new bed in the master suite upstairs, because the one that was in there was… well, simply put, it was disgusting.
Vincent, how on Gaia did you manage to live in this place all those years? Ah well, the past is the past.
A new hot water heater and bathtub has been installed in the master bath as well, which I am sure you will make use of.

Yuffie snickered happily. Poor Old Vincent Valentine was just going to have to cope with her preferred method of getting clean, and soak in a tub. Hopefully it was big enough for two.

The fridge is stocked sufficient for two weeks, and I acquired half a case of that wonderfully ridiculous pink champagne that they serve at the Gold Saucer for you as well. They should be well-chilled by now! I expect it all – food & drink – to be gone before you leave.
We were saddened by the need for the recent summit, and felt for your distress, and we missed you both at this year’s Gathering. But, at least I know you are having a bit of fun now.
Be well & have a nice stay. Your friend,
Reeve
P.S. Yuffie, by the way, I thought I saw a few Dorky Faces flitting about in the basement. I’ve no doubt you brought your conformer with you. Be a dear and dispatch them for me, would you? Thanks, ever so.

“Oh, Reeve! That was so sweet of him!” Yuffie squealed. “Hey Vince,” she yelled, “He says I get to kill shit–”
When she looked up from the note, Vincent was standing in the doorway with a sweating bottle of pink champagne in his gauntlet, two glasses in his right hand, and an evil little smile on his face.
“Bathtub. Now.”
Niiice, she thought, as she latched onto the train of his cape and followed him upstairs. Great minds do think alike!
+
“You’re in your silks again already? Here I thought you’d be thrilled to be wearing your badass duds.”
“I still like my leather. But I like these better.”
“Me too,” she said under her breath, admiring the way the fabric clung to his perfectly sculpted backside when he moved past her. When he turned and caught her ogling, she simply shrugged, saying, “Vincent Valentine, you put the fun in fundoshi.”
“Hn. Elegant, as ever.”
She curtsied clumsily and he shook his head.
Yuffie leaned on the kitchen counter as he pointed at the fridge. “Did you happen to find anything already made up in there while I shaved? I’m famished.”
“Sure! There’s some mako-green gelatin.”
Vincent grimaced when he opened the door and was faced with the bilious dessert.
“Reeve and his humor. I might have guessed.”
“I’m not eating it, no matter how hungry I get. I already scarfed the cold pizza, sorry. But there’s a few pieces of fried chicken on the top shelf.”
“I doubt it will taste as good as Nadja’s.”
“Well, her father’s chickens are the best in Wutai.” Yuffie’s arm snaked past him to grab a carrot. Not bothering to peel it, she bit the end off and hopped up on the counter. “Listen, eat up, cuz I wanna go find those Dorky Faces.”
Vincent stood back up to his full height as he removed the container with the chicken. He was still a good deal taller than Yuffie, even while she was sitting on a counter.
He cocked an eyebrow at her, speaking critically. “Eager to kill something, are we?”
“I just wanna see if I still can.”
“That ought to be entertaining.”
She pursed her lips and stared at him. “Nyuck. Nyuck. Nyuck,” she said flatly.
“I’ll be sure to bring Cerberus. No sense in both of us getting cursed.”
+
“Widen your stance, Yuffie.”
She growled, or at least she attempted to. She was frustrated with his criticism, no matter – or perhaps because of – how right he was. When another Dorky Face descended, she attempted a round-house kick, but there was not enough height in it to make contact, and she ended up slamming her foot into the stone wall of the tunnel they found the monsters in.
“Ow, shit, ow,” she mumbled, ducking just in time as the thing tried to cast Silence on her.
Vincent rolled his eyes. “Your aim is all over the place. This is pathetic.”
There had been eight of them initially, and while Dorky Faces always traveled in packs, that was a few more than normal. It made Vincent even more suspicious that Reeve had somehow managed to plant them there solely for Yuffie’s pleasure.
She wasn’t having much fun, though, as she had been at it for twenty-seven minutes and only managed to kill one and subdue two others. By accident.
He, on the other hand, was enjoying the show immensely.
She looked back at him was just about to tell him to go fuck himself, when one of the monsters spat a curse at her back. She gasped, then reached up to clasp a hand around her throat. Her eyes bugged out when she realized that the thing threw another Silence at her, and this time it stuck.
“Good Gods you’ve been rendered speechless,” Vincent said, without a trace of sympathy in his voice. “Whatever shall you do?”
The Dorky-face that’d hit her with the curse was one of the ones she had subdued, and it was hovering low in the tunnel, weakened and slightly disoriented. Unfortunately, as long as the thing was still intact, so was the curse, so she would not be speaking anytime soon. Yuffie exhaled, threatening Vincent with a tiny fist, which only made him chuckle.
“Hn.”
Exasperated with his standard response, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him.
“You want I should fix it?” She tilted her head and rolled her eyes. “Well… I don’t know, Yuffie. Think of me in this situation… of how much I’d enjoy the quiet during our holiday here.”
The Empress raised her delicate royal hand, went through the motions of clearing her throat, and rewarded him with an indecent Wutai hand gesture.
“Do you see what I mean? How lovely not to hear the foul language that normally accompanies such a greeting,” he drawled.
He waited a beat, then removed Cerberus from its holster and took aim. Yuffie raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“What?” he asked. “I’m not using magic. They’ve already cast Confuse on you three times. Any defense I toss at them now will end up on you.” She pursed her lips. He was right. Again.
“Unless… you mean for me to have that much fun?”
Yuffie marched right up to him and tried to remove Cerberus from his hand.
“Don’t. You. Dare,” he whispered threateningly.
She tried to whine, unable to form any actual sound, and pointed at the Dorky Faces wildly. She made shooting-gun gestures with her hands. He chuckled, then quickly shoved her out of harm’s way.
Seventeen seconds and six shots later, the only Dorky Face left was the one that had taken Yuffie’s power of speech. The tunnel fell deathly quiet and her ears were ringing from the hail of bullets. Vincent gave his beloved gun a tricky spin and re-holstered it. “That was fun. Let’s go visit the library next and read Hojo’s personal journals,” he said nonchalantly.
When he turned and walked out of the tunnel, Yuffie grabbed his arm and yanked hard. She looked up at him, pleading with her pretty eyes, and pointed frantically at the last Dorky Face.
Vincent looked at her, then at the monster, then back to her again, and shrugged. “Don’t worry. It will wear off.” Yuffie gaped at him, and he had the nerve to smile at her before adding, “Eventually.”
In general Vincent made very little noise when they had sex, save the expected grunts and whispers and the occasional uttering of her name. So with Yuffie’s ability to speak still on hold, they didn’t necessarily go to bed angry that night, but a very pissed-off Empress showed her bodyguard no mercy whatsoever as she fucked him blind in near-complete silence.
Unfortunately, her plan backfired. Vincent had clearly loved every second of his ‘punishment’. Heavy breathing and the delicious sounds of two bodies coming into contact was their only soundtrack, making it intense and memorable, if not a little strange.
Now Yuffie lay awake next to him, further incensed that he had the nerve to go and fall asleep afterwards. But when she felt her voice coming back at two in the morning, she left him there and snuck downstairs to get the most boring medical text she could find. Then she stood at the end of their bed and read it aloud at the top of her lungs until he was forced to get up and chase her out of the room.
+
When they woke up the following morning – well, afternoon – Vincent mentioned that this was probably the closest thing to a honeymoon they were ever going to have, so any thoughts of Wutai or Shinshuro or Avalanche should be put on hold. Surprisingly, he was the first one to set their troubles aside, and he found he had to coax Yuffie a little further to do the same.
“Okay, okay. I’m trying. So, whaddya wanna do first?”
“Do?” he asked, making an effort not to sound indignant. Watching her naked body as she moved around the room, thoughts of sex began to take over his mind again. “I believe the customary activities for a honeymoon include bathing, sleeping, eating, drinking, and having sex. A lot of sex. Oh, and lounging about in between activities in order to recover. From the sex.”
She froze in the middle of sliding on a pair of shorts and blinked at him, grinning. For once, she was the one out of bed and getting dressed first. Vincent was still lying around, being funny and looking all… delicious.
“Vincent Valentine… have you always had a sense of humor?”
He ignored her and sat up slightly, grabbing all the pillows and shoving them behind his back and head. She watched shamelessly as the muscles in his carved abdomen flexed.
Damn, she thought, licking her lips. I could do laundry on that thing.
Vincent settled against the pillows and exhaled deeply. He had every intention of staying put; he only wished his lazy brain could come up with a legitimate reason to get her back in bed without it being too obvious that all he wanted to do was make love to her again.
“I have always had a sense of humor, I just tend to kept things to myself. For instance, when I first leapt from the coffin and got a good look at you all, I thought Cloud’s hair was the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen.”
“Oh, Vinnie! Burn!”
Her voice was a little too gleeful for him not to take it further. “That was, until I saw your outfit… then I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.”
She cleared her throat as she began looking for her shoes. “Gee, Vincent… I could make a reference to vampirism right about now.”
She paused, waiting, but he had no comeback. He frowned. It was not the first verbal battle of wits she’d won during their getaway, and it annoyed him even further that he’d already begun keeping count.
Noticing his mood, she laughed, “Now now, Vinnie… don’t get fouled. I can’t help it I’m so darn quick on the uptake!” She bat her eyelashes at him.
Finding her shoes, Yuffie opened the top drawer of an elaborate dresser. She pulled out a fresh fundoushi and tossed it at Vincent’s head, snickering at his irritated expression when the winding silk fell away and draped itself all over his chest and lap as though he’d been toilet papered.
“Get dressed, baby.”
Disgruntled that she was forcing him out of bed, he rolled his eyes. He gave up on the idea of more sex… at least for the moment.
+
For the most part they decided to stay inside the mansion, and occasionally went outside for some fresh air – but never where they could be seen from the front gates, and they certainly didn’t venture into the village. They’d go for a walk in the over-grown backyard gardens or tend to the chocobos. Sometimes they took a nap under a tree. But the weather was still hot in Nibelheim, and for some reason the mansion was always cool.
Cold, even.
One morning, Vincent treated her to omelets for breakfast. As he started frying some bacon and chopping up other tasty ingredients, Yuffie became bored and decided to explore some of the rooms on the third floor that she’d never been in before. Unfortunately, she didn’t tell him where she’d gone, and after a while he grew worried and started looking for her.
Following her scent, his superior nose led him to the foot of a staircase on the second floor, tucked far off in a corner. You had to go out of your way to find it, and of course, Yuffie had found it.
His eyes drifted up to the top of the stairwell, and he felt a familiar sense of dread. It was dark and dismal, even in August, and any light at the top was sparse. His chest tightened as he cursed himself for being so careless – he’d forgotten to tell her to stay away from the upper floors.
There was nothing for it, however, she was definitely up there. He ran back to their room, grabbing both Cerberus and his Thunder materia, the very last orb in his possession. It wasn’t much, and he didn’t know how effective it would be if at all, but it would have to do.
Loading the orb into the materia slot, he ran back and mounted the stairs three at a time, hoping she had not yet stumbled upon the… oddity? He still didn’t know what it was, or even what had caused it; all he knew is that it wasn’t corporeal and it had managed to give even him the chills.
He found her in one of the back bedrooms – the one with that thing in it.
“Dammit, woman,” he cursed. Still, he couldn’t fault her too much. It had probably drawn her into the room by using her curiosity against her, just as it had him, many years ago.
He’d never figured out what it was, but it was like a living shadow – not pitch black like Nero’s oblivion, but still quite dark. The first time he encountered it, it had come out of a corner and moved towards him, trying to envelop his entire body. It was cold, but not terribly so, and it had moved slowly. He walked out of it over and over again easily enough, dark things being no stranger to him, but it moved with him every time until he finally just stepped out of the room. It hesitated at the door, then it sunk back into the corner it originally emanated from, and was gone.
Vincent had never been one to entertain the idea of spirits and hauntings, but this was once someone’s room, a child’s, and there wasn’t much else he could have called it.
This situation was a bit different, though, as Yuffie had fallen victim to… whatever it was. She was standing still, unmoving and completely inside the thing. Her mouth was slightly agape and her eyes were open. She didn’t look frightened, but she was frowning as though caught in the middle of a very strange thought.
“Yuffie?”
She didn’t respond. He reached into the shadow and grabbed her upper arm and tried to pull her to him, but she was glued to the spot like a marble statue. He tried to disrupt the shadow by stepping on the tail end of it where it emanated, from the same corner as years previous in fact, but it had no effect.
Yuffie didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, but as he didn’t know what was really happening to her, he had no intention of taking his time. He cocked Cerberus and fired away from Yuffie onto the back end of shadow using his thunder materia.
The magic crackled along the surface of the shadow, blue and vibrant at first, then it was simply absorbed.
His head snapped back to Yuffie’s face when she suddenly spoke. “No really it’s okay,” she said, her voice monotone. He was pretty sure she was speaking to it, not him.
“Like hell it is,” he spat.
An idea struck. He kept his face on Yuffie, and fired a shot into the thing’s ‘corner’. Magic thundered in the room, just as the materia’s name implied, but it did no damage to the structure and simply dissipated.
The shadow, however, shivered violently in reaction.
“We understand each other. Good. Now, let her go,” Vincent growled, and fired Cerberus again, twice more in the same spot.
The thing got the point and quickly skittered off of Yuffie with a high-pitched wail like nothing his ears had ever heard before. It appeared to get sucked into the corner, and then it completely disappeared.
Yuffie wavered on her feet and Vincent lunged for her, pulling her against his chest and wrapping his left arm around her protectively. She muttered his name and blinked up at him until she finally focused on his face.
“What was…”
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He sounded relieved, like he was trying to convince himself rather than her. “We should leave.”
She gasped suddenly, then looked over at the corner. “Oh, man! I’m sorry,” she yelped at it, sounding truly upset.
Vincent glanced at it as well, wary the thing might retaliate. He noticed a dark spot where it had retreated, looking remarkably like a large bloodstain, and his mind worked furiously trying to remember whether or not it had always been there.
“He was just worried you might be hurting me, honest!” Yuffie pleaded with it.
Vincent huffed and pulled her out of the room and back downstairs before she could coax the thing back out and become best friends with it.
+
“Reeve would want to know what happened.”
“I’ll tell him, but you should know it’s not the first time. I’m sorry, Yuffie. It completely slipped my mind to tell you to stay away from that part of the mansion.”
“No harm done.”
She slipped out of her hoodie and tossed it on the back of a dining room chair. When she said the bacon smelled really good, he remembered breakfast and went back into the kitchen to resume making their omelets. When Yuffie bolted hers down in record time, he just laughed and made her another one. After breakfast, they were sitting at the table and relaxing with some tea, chatting about the phenomena.
“That room belonged to a kid, did you notice?”
“Years before, yes. That’s always been a bother to me.”
“It’s happened to you before, then?”
“Yes, but I’m not susceptible to whatever power it has. I find it chilling, but it cannot hold me captive like it did you.”
“Let me guess – you’re just too dark already?” she asked quietly.
“Probably.” He glanced at her. “Some things remain, after all.”
She nodded. “I don’t think it would have actually hurt me. It felt like it was lonely. Like it just wanted to keep me with it.”
“You’re taken.”
Yuffie glanced up from her teacup to find he was staring at her, a sharp look in his eyes. She smiled before continuing. “I gotta know now, though. Maybe we could try to figure out what it was?”
“You are not going back up there. We have no idea what it did to you. What if there are long-term effects from it… as with Nero?” He added the last part quietly.
“Oh, Vinnie… no,” she said quickly, taking his hand. “I’m positive it didn’t do anything like that. But yeah, I don’t want to take a second ride, ‘cuz it was kinda creepy. I was thinking more like… maybe the lab has something?”
He shrugged. “Could be. But that room is a disaster right now. All the research and books are scattered on the floors and tables.” She eyed him critically. “I threw a tantrum a few years back. Now everything’s hopelessly out of order.”
“Nothing is ever hopeless,” she grinned, pulling on his hand. “Let’s go look!”
+
“Is that table where…” Her voice drifted off, as she pointed at it.
“It’s one of them.”
He wasn’t upset that she’d asked, but he didn’t offer her any other information
They both gathered up a pile of notebooks and attempted to find something relevant to the upstairs bedroom in the research. After awhile they realized it was going to take more time than they were willing to put in, but since they had already gotten a good start they finished cleaning up and cataloging everything, putting the notes and books into some sort of order onto the shelves. At least Reeve would appreciate it.
They worked in comfortable silence, the occasional question punctuating the white noise of the lab’s old, harsh lighting system. Yuffie looked over at Vincent when he fell quiet for too long, and noticed he was staring at the shelf in front of him as though he was looking through it.
“Hey… You okay?”
He blinked, eventually looking over at her. Shaking his head, he simply shrugged off whatever it was that had clouded his thoughts.
“Yes. It was just a memory – well, not even that. More like an echo of a memory. I don’t have them nearly as often as I used to… and when I do they go away quickly.” Vincent shelved another book. “Faster and faster, these days.”
She turned back to her own shelf, and whispered damn straight under her breath, very smugly, thinking he hadn’t heard her. He just smiled, tiny and satisfied.
“Hey Vinnie, how many times have you cheated death?”
His eyebrow quirked. “That’s a good question. I’d really have to think about it, but I’m afraid I’d never be able to remember every incident. I can tell you the big ones, obviously, but you already know about those.”
“Hojo, Sephiroth–”
“That wasn’t really my fight. Either time.”
“Okay, yeah, you’re right. Wasn’t mine, either,” she muttered, clearing her throat. “So… Hojo, Rosso the Crimson, Weiss the Immaculate,” her voice was filled with derision on the last one. “Gawd, who can refer to themselves like that without giggling?! That’s like naming yourself Vincent the Stoic, or…”
“Yuffie the Embraceable?” he offered, face completely blank. Except for his eyes - his eyes gave it all way.
She stared at him, blushing and trying to hide a grin. “I thought you were gonna say theif or brat… this is a much nicer name.”
“I won’t use it in public.”
“That’d probably be best,” she sighed. “Okay, so all those guys, plus Omega. Those’r all the big ones, right?”
“Yes. Other than that, there have been some small battles over the years, with monsters or men. A few of those became close calls.”
“Like my recent assassination attempt.”
“…Yes.”
She put away the last book in her stack, then turned to face him. “Where did that scar on your hip come from?”
His hand halted in mid-air for a moment. “Why?” he asked, and resumed shelving a book.
“Look, Vinnie. I know you don’t heal like you used to anymore. Any scars you have now can only have happened after Chaos was released. I know about the ones on your chest, arm and gut, from my would-be assassin. I was there, remember? The only other big one is on your hip, so it must’ve happened after Chaos but before you came to Wutai.”
He didn’t reply, other than a slow nod.
“I been there too, mister. At very close range. Close enough that I’ve found all three freckles!” Her voice grew flirtatious and she gave him a challenging look. Vincent blushed, just faintly. “I can tell it was a pretty nasty wound. So spill it, gunslinger.”
“Before I tell you,” he began, “You have to promise me that you won’t… freak out.”
She frowned thoughtfully. “Ooooh, this sounds interesting.”
He stopped, glaring at her. “Promise me.”
“Vincent. I promise.” She crossed her heart and held up her palm. “Totally.”
“Yeah… Right.” He shook his head and picked up another stack of books. “I do not know why we are doing this. I admit that the manor was probably the safest place to send us for some privacy, but look at what happened to you this morning. This entire structure ought to be condemned and razed.”
She counted off on her fingers. “Cataloging the research in here was your idea, you got upstairs and took care of it, I’m none the worse for wear, stop changing the subject, tell me where that awesome scar came from.”
Yuffie crossed her arms defiantly.
Sighing, he gave in. “The other night… when we were talking in front of the fire back home, I’d told you that I’d grown despondent after our fight on Tifa’s porch.”
“You said you took all those tough jobs from Reeve to distract– Oh man, Vincent! What did you do?!”
“There was to be no freaking out,” he reminded her sternly.
She winced. “Sorry. Do continue, Mister Valentine.” Yuffie bowed lavishly at him, and Vincent shook his head.
“Cloud, Tseng and I were sent to deal with a group of mercenaries hiding out in Fort Condor. They’d pilfered a loading dock in Junon and had gotten away with a large amount of Shinra medical supplies - supplies that were destined for charities. Rufus was beside himself with anger. We were told to reacquire the goods, and… get rid of the men who had stolen them.”
“Ew,” she said, curling her lip.
“Yes. But trust me when I tell you that these men had a long and loathsome history. They were not good people.”
“So what happened?”
“We were not patient enough. Unanimously, the three of us decided to forgo Reeve’s plan of disguising ourselves and pretending to be buyers from the black market, and we simply began taking them out quietly. But there were more of them than was anticipated in the intel, and the fighting quickly became heavy. While engaged with one of them hand-to-hand, I was jumped by two others. I would have defeated all three of them easily enough, but a fourth man recognized me. While I was busy fighting, he shot me in the hip… with a rather large gun.” She gaped. “He took out one of his own comrades in the process. As I said, not good men.”
“Oh, please tell me he didn’t get away. You guys killed them all, right?”
“Oh yes. Cloud became a bit erratic when he saw me bleeding to death on the floor. This ended the fight.” He cleared his throat. “Tseng did what he could to help me, as we were trying not to use magic. But whatever healing factor I do have left just wasn’t cutting it. The damage was extensive, and I passed out. Cloud had to cast Cure 2 several times just to get the gaping hole in my body to stop gushing enough so that I could be carried onto the Shinra helicopter that finally arrived. I was in an induced coma in a WRO lab for eight days, while they fixed my broken body – artificial hip, removal of shredded sections in both intestine, adhering of cloned muscle tissues and temporary artificial skin bandages… there was blood loss as well, but that part I had to overcome on my own, as there is no longer a match for me anywhere on the Planet. In fact, I was lucky everything else took.”
When he realized she was not talking, he looked over at her. He found her horrified expression painful to look at, so he decided to skip anymore of those kinds of details.
“Reno was piloting the chopper, by the way.”
“I never heard a word about it… not from any of those guys.” She looked appalled.
“That’s because I made them promise to keep it quiet where our mutual friends were concerned… so that you wouldn’t find out.”
“Vincent! How could you?!”
“I thought our friendship was in serious trouble, remember? And you had far too much to think about already, with Wutai, and the upcoming coronation… and Godo’s health. I didn’t want to compound your problems any further with worry over me and what had happened between us.”
“That’s… Oh, I’m kinda pissed now. You bastard,” she said, but her heart wasn’t in it.
“It’s over with. It doesn’t matter now.”
“I’m gonna kick their asses the next time I see them. All of ‘em.”
“Well, Reno did warn me that if you ever did find out about it, I’d be on my own dealing with Fury à la Yuffie. So maybe you can forgive them and just focus all that rage on me.” He had a suggestive look on his face, but she chose to ignore it.
“Still. I would’ve come to you. You know that.”
“I know, and that’s why I did it.”
“Vincent.”
He laughed quietly. “I thought the idea is for me to take care of you, not the other way around.” His hands were empty again and he leaned on the shelf and crossed his arms. The movement caused his t-shirt to ride up slightly and she stared at the trail of crisp black hairs below his belly button.
Treasure Trail, she thought saucily. Her mind flashed back to the night she got a clear view of it when she was trying to sneak into Reno’s room. I should have stayed where I was and jumped him.
“All right. How many times have you cheated death?”
He stilled, waiting for something along the lines of ‘oh two, maybe three’ to come out of her mouth. She shrugged and hopped up on the table, grabbing an errant notebook and flipping through its yellowed pages.
“Thirty-seven.”
“What?!”
She glanced up to see he was literally gaping at her, and snickered.
“You’re lying.”
She shook her head, looking back down at the notebook.
“You’re exaggerating at the least.”
“Nope.” She flipped the pages even though she wasn’t really reading anything. He growled as he ripped the notebook from her hands and tossed it across the room.
“Sheesh! I wouldn’ta told you if I knew you were gonna get mad!”
“I’m not–” He closed his eyes and mentally told himself to lower his voice. “I am not angry.”
“Then what is this? Are you jealous?” There was a twinkle in her eyes.
He exhaled, long and slow, and stepped forward to push her knees apart. He placed his human hand on her face, searching her eyes.
“You’re serious.”
“Yeah. I’ve counted them. Mind you, it was never anything as drastic as this,” she said, reaching a hand down between them to stroke the scar on his hip through his sweat pants. “A little blood… bites and scrapes and stings,” she grinned, continuing to rub his scar and watching his face with interest. “A lot of stitches. Many sprained ankles. A broken wrist… A fake hymen.” She grinned. Her hand moved inward past his scar, a little too close to other things. “My body has never been harmed to the point of imminent death, no - but in thirty-seven separate situations I have cheated death.”
He closed his eyes, trying to keep his body under his own control.
“Name one.”
“The evening after my coronation, when I was dangling outside of your window and you pulled me back into your room.” Her hand drifted further. “Come to think of it… you were wearing this same pair of sweats, weren’t you?”
He frowned, eyes still closed. That one was, technically, his fault. “Don’t remind me. A different one, if you please.”
“All right. I almost got swallowed whole by a huge water monster in the forbidden lake that’s half a day’s walk from the pagoda.”
His eyes snapped open. “How old were…”
“Hmm… nine, I think.” She looked up casually, thinking and touching at the same time.
Oh Gaia… her hand…
“Daddy had taken me swimming. No one in Wutai had any idea the thing was in there. It rose up behind me as I was swimming back to shore, and I didn’t even know it,” she said, as she shifted her hand to a spot with more obvious intent. “Daddy came charging in after me while the ninja on duty threw kunai and shot arrows at it, with no effect. Godo carried me to shore just in time. Whatever it was, it just sunk back in and it’s never been seen since. That’s why that particular lake is off-limits.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he grunted, “Another.”
“Um, Bahamut SIN was aiming to spit a big ball of pain at me. Cid landed on his back and speared him in the back, just in time. Bahamut reared up and it flew right past my head. Barret almost bought it, but hell… I was fine.”
“I remember that.” He closed his eyes again when she pressed her palm against him through the soft fabric of his pants and squeezed, just slightly.
“Another.”
“What is this, pillow-talk?” she giggled. He opened his eyes and stared down at her, his thoughts written all over his face. “Okay then, whatever works,” she quipped.
“WRO mission. Me an’ Elena got into a girl fight on the roof of a ten-story building and I was knocked off the side.” Yuffie’s other hand joined in on the fun, and very slowly she started pulling on the drawstrings of his sweat pants. “I was hanging on by a thread and slipping fast, and she managed to pull me back up by my shirt, which was almost completely over my head by the time I rolled back onto the roof, it was that close.”
He let out a shaky breath. He needed to get them back up to the bedroom. Or at least to the rug in the parlor.
“We hugged and cried and have been buddies ever since.”
“Another one,” he frowned, breathing hot against her ear. She loosened the sweat pants and they dropped to the floor, pooling around his bare feet.
“Look at that, I guessed right,” she whispered, glancing down. “Commando, huh?” She gazed into his eyes, their faces so close, and his hips were drawn forward a little when she tugged on the front of his t-shirt.
“Reeve and me got chased by a pack of wild dogs in a junkyard once.” She kissed his throat. “I gave him a leg up the side of a fence and got bit thanks to my protective, sacrificial nature. If he hadn’t pulled me up they would have eaten me alive.”
“All right, I believe you.” He bit out the words, pulling her hands away from their destination. The barrier that was his sweatpants was now gone. If she started touching him there, he’d never make it upstairs.
“Oh, c’mon! You haven’t even heard which one was my all-time favorite save yet,” she whined.
“And that would be…?”
She stared at his lips, then his eyes.
“That was you. From Nero. Hands down.”
She was totally serious how. He couldn’t take much more of her penetrating eyes, and he pulled her to him for a hard kiss. She inhaled sharply, feeling his gauntlet at her back, pressing her closer to him. He released her mouth, and his lips trailed kisses across her jaw line until he got to her ear.
“No more foolish risks. You are not allowed to die on me.”
He’d whispered it with a little more force than he’d intended, but all that did was encourage her. Yuffie launched herself off the table and Vincent stepped back in tandem. He thought to drag her out of the lab but she was just too fast for him, as most of the blood in his brain had flown south.
She grabbed his gauntlet and pulled, twisting them both until he backed into the lab table she’d just been sitting on. She pushed against his chest with both hands until he was forced to sit down. He hissed when the bare flesh of his rump made contact with the cold metal.
“Lay back,” she barked, stepping on the pile that was his sweat pants and sliding them across the floor behind her. She pushed his knees apart and put a hand on his chest, pressing hard. Vincent pushed in return and gave her a questioning look, but she would not remove her hand.
Yuffie was breathing just as fast as he was, but her head was much clearer. She kept her eyes on his as she slid her hand down his chest and past the bottom edge of his shirt, then boldly ventured lower. She wrapped a firm hand around his sex, and her knowing smirk intensified as she stroked him until he was completely hard.
Between the warm caress of her hand and the cold bite of the table, Vincent thought his brain might just fry for good this time. Some part of him still remained the gentleman, however, and he continued to refuse her demands to lay back.
She frowned, frustrated.
“Let me give you a good experience on this table. Just one good memory, then you can rip this entire room to shreds if that’s what you want to do. I’ll even help you.”
If what she meant by a ‘good experience’ hadn’t been clear to him before, it was now.
He gave in, and leaned all the way back until the cold table was under his shoulder blades. Her mouth was on him before he had another thought, and he closed his eyes and let himself drift with the amazing sensations she was creating with her mouth.
He thought maybe she was just being generous, getting him good and ready and they’d switch positions, so that they could both walk out of there happy, but he was wrong about that as well.
She made it very clear that he was to stay exactly where he was until she was finished with him. Her free hand pushed against his belly, holding him in place, and he hissed as she gripped the base of his erection with her other hand. She sucked very gently, her mouth moving up to encircle the head, then back down again, and again.
Vincent sat up slightly, knowing he couldn’t hold out much longer.
“Yu.. Yuffie. If you don’t stop, I’m going to–”
He gasped, as the hand on his stomach reached up to press against his chest, forcing him back down on the cold table.
She continued sliding her mouth over his length, maintaining a steady and gentle pull, until the perfect rhythm drove him over the edge. He cried out her name again, over and over, only this time it was not in protest.
Vincent didn’t know how much time passed before he got his breathing under control again. He tried to focus. His eyes were still closed but he could sense that Yuffie was still standing on her feet. She was bent at the waist, but her upper body was now draped across his hips. She was holding on to his hips as though embracing him, but she had long since released the rest of him. He felt cooling drops of liquid as they slid down the inside of his leg where her cheek was resting on his thigh.
There will be some cleaning up, then.
Vincent knew that where decorum was concerned, he was being far too indulgent. He hadn’t done enough to stop her, and now he couldn’t hide the cheesy grin that crossed his face, even if it only lasted for three seconds. He ran his human hand through Yuffie’s hair, caressing her cheek and the edge of her ear, before getting up on his elbows to tell her how wonderful what she’d done had felt.
The words died on his tongue.
Yuffie wasn’t just holding him, she looked like she was trying to trap him there. The liquid he’d felt were her tears – not at all what he’d imagined it to be – and she was still crying.
“Are you…” He swallowed hard. “Yuffie, are you all right?”
She sniffed, then reached a hand over to run her fingertips along the jagged scar on his hip. Tapping it lightly, she took in a shuddering breath before speaking.
“You’re not allowed to die on me, either.”
+
“Ah… Ow. Dammit.”
Vincent looked up from where he was replenishing the water in one of the gold chocobo’s stalls and turned towards Yuffie’s voice. She’d been raking the soiled hay out from the other one’s stall, but she was standing still now.
“Yuffie? What’s the matter?”
The Empress walked out from the stall and leaned the rake against the wall. “I think I pulled my damn shoulder.” She pushed at her collarbone with the fingertips of her opposite hand and winced.
Vincent put down the water bucket and walked over to her. He rotated her arm gingerly, and she gasped when it was at an angle pointing up.
Vincent shook his head and frowned. “I don’t think it’s sprained, but you should stop working for now. I told you not to lift that bale of hay by yourself.”
“I know… m’sorry, Vince.”
“It’s all right,” he sighed gently, kissing her forehead. “Your eyes have always been bigger than your stomach.” She scoffed, slightly embarrassed. “I can finish up here. Go back inside and get that peppermint muscle ointment out of my bag. I’ll rub your shoulder out when I come back in.”
She met him in the library on the first floor. Swallowing the pain medication he’d brought her, Yuffie watched while Vincent set some pillows down in front of the hearth. He lit a fire, knowing the heat would help her muscles relax further. Smiling at his attentiveness, she stripped off her top and lay down on the pillows on her stomach, comfortable in nothing but a pair of old canvas shorts.
As Yuffie’s bare, smooth skin beckoned, Vincent rubbed the fragrant oil into her back, upper arm and neck – perhaps a little overkill for a pulled shoulder, but he couldn’t resist and didn’t care to. Absently, he noted that she was still hanging onto the tan from the chocobo ride to Nibelheim. He began working out the kinks in her neck and shoulder, his hands gentle and sure of themselves despite the metal appendage. She hissed in pain a few times at first, but that quickly turned into quiet groans until she was sighing in relief.
“You are really fucking good at this,” she muttered, the side of her face mashed into a pillow.
When he was satisfied that he’d done all he could, Vincent left to wash his hands. He grabbed a book as he came back into the living room. Yuffie hadn’t moved an inch from where he’d left her resting in front of the small fire. He sat behind her on the floor, leaning his back against the edge of the couch. She was sleepy, and he didn’t want to move her, so he decided to just read next to her in front of the fire.
After a few moments she yawned, then flipped her head to face him. He smiled down at her as she began playing with the golden sections of gauntlet that covered the fingers on his left hand.
“Vincent, can I ask you something about your claw?”
“It’s a gauntlet, if you please, and you can ask me anything you’d like about anything you’d like.”
She smiled again, hearing all the unspoken words. “I just wondered… you never seem to have to hold back with it,” she said, stroking the tips of the finger sections. “I know it’s permanently fused to you, and you must be totally used to it by now, but… I’ve seen you slice through everything from trees and vines to monster hide and metal like it was butter. So how come I’ve never gotten cut? Like on my bare skin?”
“Here,” he said quietly, pulling the gauntlet away from her hands. He splayed the fingers of his left hand out before her, the tips shining bright near her face. “Touch the points again,” he said, and she did so without hesitation. “Smooth, correct? Perhaps even dull to the touch?”
“Yes,” she said, drawing the delicate tips of her fingers over the points of the metal, feeling no sharp edges anywhere, jagged or otherwise.
“Now take your hand away. Don’t move, and watch closely.”
After she did as she was told, he flexed his fingers as though to grab something fiercely, and the edges of the metal changed before her eyes.
The light coming from the fireplace in the room was reflected off the edges of each section, now appearing sharp and dangerous. The tips had grown just a fraction longer, coming to a deadly point less than three inches in front of her nose. She eyed the metal, amazed and frozen in place at the same time.
“Apologies,” he said quietly, and in less than a second the gauntlet shifted to where she could see the edges were relatively harmless again. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen you use it. Up close, you know.” Worried she might have offended him, she reached out immediately and took the metal in her hand again. “So you have control over it?”
“Only in the sense that it’s somewhat organic, so I have control over it the same way I have control over my other hand. It responds to my needs the same way any part of your body responds to yours.”
“So when we’re… um…”
“Yes, when we’re ‘um’… obviously, I have no desire to hurt you. But if I had to keep my left hand in a box when doing any delicate task, let alone you, it would be an enormous burden. I am sure it was designed with that in mind. There is little about having a metal appendage that I can consider fortunate, other than it has helped me save lives, but it is fortunate that it does change as I need it to.” He nuzzled her ear. “I probably won’t take up knitting anytime soon, but how else could I hold you close with both hands without damaging you?”
She smirked. “Is that why it’s… well, it’s not warm like your skin, but it’s never really been cold. I mean, like metal-cold.”
“There is a current of some sort that connects the metal to my nervous system. Not nerves, obviously, but… something else. I have no idea, actually. Yet another experiment Reeve wants to conduct on me, but I refuse. I’ve had enough of that, thank you.”
She snorted her displeasure. “Reeve needs a new hobby.”
“I thought that was Rufus.”
She looked up at him briefly, grinning. “Good one… So you feel everything the metal touches, and everything that touches it?”
“Yes. As if it were my skin.”
“Cool,” she said, tracing the gauntlet’s knuckles without a trace of fear.
He stared down at her brave, sweet face, and wondered where he would be and what he would be doing at that moment if he hadn’t come to Wutai.
Nothing good whatsoever came to mind.
I’m a waste of flesh without her.
Exhaling, he took his hand back and encouraged her to lit still. “Get some rest, Yuffie. I’ll wake you up when dinner is done.”
+
“Yuffie?”
“In here!” she called. When he pushed the swinging door to the kitchen open, he found her reheating the leftovers from the meal that he’d made the night before.
“Fettuccine Alfredo. At nine a.m.?”
“My stomach says otherwise. It’s lunchtime, Vinnie,” she quipped, then added quietly, “You have made me extra hungry this week.”
“Hn.”
He leaned against the counter and watched her moving about the kitchen with ease. She was wearing one of his black t-shirts and a pair of lime green panties with a chocobo printed on the seat. Her feet were bare, her toenails were painted green, she had a nice tan going, and her hair was down. He hadn’t seen her look so relaxed in months, and it made him feel good.
When she pulled an ornate bowl out of the cupboard, she held it up and gave him a questioning look.
“I could eat.”
“Oh my, Fettuccine Alfredo at nine in the morning?” she teased. When he didn’t respond save to give her tiny smile, she said, “Uh-huh. That’s what I thought. Now what were you calling me for?”
“I broke my hair band. I need another one.” Vincent held up the tattered remains of the band he’d removed from Yuffie’s cut hair back on the Shera when he was starting his new assignment as her bodyguard.
So much had happened since then, and it seemed so very long ago now.
Her eyebrows shot up and she set the bowls down on the counter. Yuffie took the broken hairband from his fingertips and smiled.
“You know, I thought that was one of mine. How on Gaia did you make it last so long?
He smiled slyly. “Like all the things I cherish, I took good care of it.”
“Plate the food when the timer goes off. I’ll go get you another one.” Yuffie moved to pass him, but thought better of it and stopped when she was in front of him. “Although your hair looks awfully nice all loose like that,” she said, leaning into his frame and hugging him around the waist. “You sure you want to pull it back today?”
Vincent palmed the top of her head with his human hand, smoothing her own dark hair back to get a better look at her face.
She was not yet twenty-five, but the very beginnings of crow’s-feet were forming at the corners of Yuffie’s eyes. Her reign as Empress was not going to be an easy one, and what little of it she’d been through had already taken a physical toll on her. It was a good thing they had taken this trip.
He stared into her eyes for a bit longer, as he found the wrinkles – like all her battle scars – to be quite attractive. He elected to keep that information to himself right then.
“I’m sure I want to pull it back today. I’m also sure you’d like me to leave it down.”
“What can I tell you, I like tugging on it.” She sighed happily and pushed off of him, heading towards the door.
“Yuffie, put a second hairband on my pack, will you? I’ve been forgetting to ask you for another one.”
“What for?”
He turned away from her and opened the silverware drawer. “I took that one off of the rest of your hair. I’ve been meaning to re-secure the braid.”
She paused, smiling at his back. “So your pack, huh? That’s the ‘someplace safe’ where you keep the rest of my hair?”
He hesitated, then replied, “No one messes with my pack. And since no one else is allowed to touch that hair, that’s the best place for it.”
She grinned, loving the way he was a bit shy about what he was actually admitting, and still wasn’t facing her. But she knew better than to push too hard with the teasing when he got like that. It was more than enough that her stoic gunslinger had let her know.
“Makes sense,” she simply said, then left him alone in the kitchen to go upstairs.
When Yuffie went to put the requested hairband on his pack, curiosity got the better of her and she opened various pockets just until she found her leftover hair. Gingerly, she took it out and winced a bit as the braid continued to unravel. Her eyes caught the corners of some folded papers, visible at the edge of the pocket, and she recognized them as the two special notes she’d written to him.
Shaking her head fondly, she took those out as well.
When she finally reappeared in the kitchen, he hid his disappoint that she’d put on a pair of pajama pants.
He was sitting at the table checking his text messages on his phone, and the bowls had plastic wrap over them. Drops of condensation had formed on the tops. “Took you long enough.”
“Sorry,” she offered, sitting down to her food.
“You poked around, didn’t you?”
“You knew I would, right?” she asked, and he simply nodded. “I re-braided the hair and put it all back, secret notes and everything. I didn’t look at anything else in the pack, I swear. Just that stuff,” she said, wincing. “I’m sorry. Old habits and all.”
“Stop apologizing. You can look at whatever you want to, Yuffie. I’ve got nothing to hide from you.”
“I’ve got no reason to look, Vince. I just wanted to see the hair, and then when I saw the notes, I wanted to read those, too.”
“It’s okay, Yuffie.”
“But… I messed with the pack. I touched the hair.”
“That’s okay, too.”
“You just said no one else can touch it.”
“Yuffie,” he said, growing impatient.
“All right, all right! I’m just sayin’… if you’ve got some kind of a ritual thing going on there, I don’t want to be the one to ruin it.”
“It’s your hair. So you touching it doesn’t affect the ritual.”
She smiled down at her food while shaking some pungent cheese on her noodles.
He has a ritual and it’s about me.
“Yes, I have rituals. And they are usually about you.”
“I was just thinking… Oh, Gaia, are we really this weird?”
“Some might say weird, I’d say comfortable. But it would appear so, yes,” he responded. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope.” She smiled at him, blushing.
Later that same day saw a cool breeze come in to Nibelheim from the East. The temperature dropped until it was actually pleasant for August, so they went outside.
Yuffie was reading a book, sitting up against the trunk of a tree in the garden next to the chocobo paddock, with Vincent’s head resting in her lap. His eyes were closed and his hairband had been removed. She was playing with the dark, silky strands, but when she set the book down and stopped tugging on his hair, he opened his eyes and looked up at her.
“What is it?”
She bit her lip. “This morning…”
He sighed. “Yuffie, I told you, it’s fine. For Leviathan’s sake… I’m getting better and you’re getting worse. Let it go–”
“No, not that.”
“What, then?”
“When I was alone in the bedroom, braiding that hair… it got me thinking. Remember when I told you not to cut yours?”
“I know I nodded off rather quickly, but… I’ll never forget anything about that night. Why?”
“I had no right, really. It’s your hair, Vince.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Say something. Please?”
“Well… to be completely honest, yes, it gets on my nerves. Sometimes it does. But… more than that…”
She waited, not speaking.
“I want to change it.”
“You… wanna cut it off?”
He sat up, facing her.
“Yes. Will you mind terribly?”
“Oh, I’d miss it. But I bet you’d look fantastic with short hair.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“Maybe not for you, no,” she said, grunting as she stood up. She held out her hand. “C’mon, I’ll tie it back and cut it off.”
“What if you don’t like it?” he replied, taking her hand and standing up.
“A better question is what if you don’t like it. Look, it’s just hair, Vinnie. It grows back.” She looked back at him from behind the safety of her own brunette curtain, winking playfully. “Trust me, I know.”
Within moments, he was sitting down at a chair in the kitchen and she’d braided his hair, just like Tifa had done with hers. When the braid was secured at either end, she took the scissors she’d found in a drawer and opened the blades, hovering just next to the base of the braid.
“Vincent?”
“Do it,” he said emphatically.
Vincent’s hair was thick and wavy and healthy, and removing it didn’t go as smoothly as either of them thought it would. Several ragged, difficult chops later Yuffie finally separated the thick braid from his head, and his hair fell forward. It hung to just below his ears, and the uneven ends were in serious need of a clean up. Yuffie clutched the severed braid to her chest and stared at the back of his head, wild-eyed.
“Can’t fucking believe I just did that.”
He nodded, then finally spoke. “I can’t believe I told you to.”
Yuffie rounded the chair to get a look at him from the front, and promptly gaped. “Uh, no. The grunge look is not going to work on you. You need to go into town and get it cut for real. Like, by a barber.”
Vincent nodded quickly. “Agreed. Before I seriously regret this.” He went upstairs to put on some very plain clothing as neither ninja silks nor his badass leather was going to be discrete enough for venturing out.
He could move unrecognized through the village well enough without the long flowing locks and odd clothing, but thanks to GaiaNet and ShinraTV, the Empress of Wutai’s face was too recognizable now, so there was no way she could go with him. “Stay here,” he told her as he headed for the back door. “And lock this door behind me.”
“I will,” she said, still clutching his braid to her chest.
“Stay here,” he repeated himself. When he got to the door, he turned, and grabbed her to him for a kiss. He only meant for it to be a peck, but after tangling his tongue with hers for over a minute, he took a breath. “Stay here,” he whispered against her mouth.
He straightened and she nodded, then she pulled him back down to her for another kiss.
She stood in the door as she watched him go, about ready to cry that she’d butchered his beautiful hair, when he turned and looked back at her.
“Yuffie?”
“…Yes?”
“Stay the fuck here. Understand?”
“Leviathan’s dick, Vincent. I’m not an idiot.”
“That’s debatable. Lock the door. And stay here,” he barked, disappearing on the side path to the front gate.
+
“What did you do?”
“…Nothing.”
He crossed his arms and stood his ground. Her behavior was off. She was avoiding – which meant she had done something while he was gone and was trying to hide it.
“You’re lying.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
She blinked and looked to the side for just a moment.
“Yuffie Kisaragi.”
“I didn’t!” she tried again, looking him in the eyes. “Honest. Really.”
But his interrogation didn’t last long when she licked her lips and jumped on him, forcing him to grab onto her as she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him fiercely.
She clutched the back of his head, marveling at the unfamiliar feeling of kissing someone with freshly cut hair, short and slick–
Ohhhh… this is really nice too!
She moaned as it slipped through her fingers like a shiny pelt, and kissed him deeply. Coming up for air, she gasped. “My Gods, Vinnie… You are so fucking hot.”
Vincent was torn. On one hand, she was obviously trying to distract him, and he hated to admit it but was working beautifully. On the other hand… she was clearly aroused.
What was I trying to do here…?
He gave up.
Several hours later, the sun was down and they were lying by the fire, naked, again, sore, again, and he had no remembrance of her sneaky little diversion – well he did, but he didn’t give a damn. She was stretched out on top of him, blatantly using his body like a mattress, and his dignity didn’t give a damn about that either.
“You look like you did as a Turk,” she muttered, her fingers still playing with his new haircut. “Only it’s a bit shorter, even. You know, not all Super-Cool-Spy-Assassin-with-Hair-Hanging-in-His-Eyes like you were back then.”
He got lucky that she was not looking at his face because his mouth was hanging open. “Yuffie… how in the hell would you know that?”
“I saw some pictures. Rufus dug up your file from when you were a Turk and gave it to me to read.”
He froze underneath her.
“You read my file.”
It was a statement, not a question, and it was definitely laced with a bit of venom. Still, Yuffie blathered on, unperturbed by the fact that she was completely vulnerable as she was, lounging like a lazy cat on top of a trained killer with a giant beast trapped inside of him.
“Yeah, I read it… And now that I think about it I should have asked for your WRO files, too. Then I’d have already known where that hip scar came from… So, tell me, lover boy,” she said, all saccharin-sweet. Yuffie tilted her head so that she could look him in the eyes. “How many times did you fuck a target and fail to report it?”
Vincent narrowed his eyes. “That was a long time ago. And they weren’t all targets.”
“No?”
Yuffie sat up, still straddling him, and raked her fingernails downwards, from his chest to his stomach. The look on her face ran counter to the fact that she was naked and sweaty and glowing and–
She’s getting the upper hand again. I really need to concentrate more, he told himself firmly. And yet his eyes drifted from her face, down to her neck, and lower. They are just breasts, he tried again.
Beautiful, pert, kissable–
“Some of them were clients,” he blurted out.
She laughed out loud. “Oh, and that makes it sooo much better! You’re leaving out the fact that some of them were horny barflies totally unrelated to your mission,” she added, sprinkling more salt into the wounds of his illustrious past. “I mean, do they train you Turks to be sluts?”
Momentarily distracted by her glistening tummy, Vincent ran his palms up the length of her thighs and gripped her waist. Two thumbs, one metal, one human, rubbed little circles on either side her of her navel. Yuffie huffed sarcastically, and when he looked up, she was watching him with a smug expression.
Vixen.
He had to try and win at least some of the arguments on this vacation or he’d never live it down. “Sluts, you say? Well, I am no longer a Turk, but if Reno is any indication–”
“I wasn’t talking about Reno,” she barked, punctuating her words by clenching both her teeth and her knees together – hard. He had to admit that her ninja strength had not waned completely when his eyes threatened to roll back into their sockets. “So tell me, Vincent... does Shinra Corporation teach their Turk recruits sexual techniques?”
“Just the men,” he said, gasping.
Yuffie relaxed her hold on him, giggling, and shifted her hips again in a most agreeable fashion. He almost sputtered when her slick privates slid against his own and woke them up.
“And you called me promiscuous,” she whispered as she leaned down to kiss his chest, his neck, all the way to up to his lips. Vincent groaned, clearly torn between drowning in the bliss that was Yuffie’s mouth and wallowing in the discomfort that she knew such lurid details about his past life as a Turk.
It wasn’t so much that she possessed the information, because he’d had every intention to tell her those things – himself. Eventually. When he was damn good and ready.
But Rufus Fucking Shinra had beat him to it. He was going to strangle the pretty blond bitch to death.
Yuffie sat back up and gazed down on him like the cat that ate the canary. Drunk on the power she was wielding over him, she barreled on.
“I was particularly impressed with your account of how you killed that drug smuggler in, what? ‘Seventy-eight, was it? There you were… balls-deep in some waitress from that dump of a diner the perp frequented. Just a wet behind the ears recruit, jizzin’ away like a mad bull – yet you still managed to shoot the scumbag when he accidentally strolled into the alley.” She shook her head. “Impressive, Valentine. I’ll admit to a wild past, but I’ve never been fucked up against a brick wall next to a dumpster while shooting at someone. How in hades did you draw your gun without dropping her ass on the paveme–”
“Let’s go find that last Dorky Face again, shall we?” he said, interrupting her.
“Oh. Har.”
“Yuffie… as I said, that was a long, long time ago.” He gripped her cheeks tight in his hands until she squeaked happily. “And I was a fool.”
“Yeah, okay, but… Odin’s Olives, do all Turks put so much detail into their reports?”
“It’s a job requirement,” he answered casually. Then an evil thought occurred to him, one that he could not resist trying out. “My poor Empress. It must rankle, only being able to imagine what kind of sordid details Reno has revealed about you in his reports.”
“Oh,” she sighed, faking a yawn, “To tell the truth, it was a long afternoon. Me an’ Rufus read his stuff, too. I’m happy to report that Reno was instructed to be discreet. After all, I am the leader of a nation, not some drug smuggler,” she said, haughtily. Yuffie hunched over just enough to slide a hand between them. She gripped him gently, testing his firmness. “Or some waitress,” she added in a whisper.
Finding he was more than ready, she awarded him with a sarcastic smile. Vincent nodded, slightly disgusted, but only because she was winning again as well as making his vision blur.
“Ah yes, your new best friend,” he bit out, “I can see it now, you and Rufus Shinra, reading old Turk reports over tea and cookies. All chummy. What’s next? Shall you hold sleepovers and give each other pedicures?”
“Maybe,” she said lightly, shrugging. Yuffie released him, sliding her hand from between their combined heat all too slowly. He had half a mind to tell her to put her damn hand back when she spoke again. “Why? Are you jealous? Rufus knows shit, I know shit, and we’ve learned the benefits of sharing.”
Vincent’s face grew dark when he thought about the fact that most of Yuffie’s friends were men. It wasn’t even a comfort that some of them were gay, or at the very least bisexual, and most of them were taken. What ate at him was that they were all either attractive, or powerful, or both.
He was just vain enough to include himself in that list, but still… She didn’t play the jealousy card too often, and when she did she knew exactly how to use it against him. That was just way too annoying.
Okay. Time to play dirty.
“In any case… Eventually I had a reason to stop being so promiscuous. All that changed when I was assigned to Lucrecia.” He surprised himself when he realized that he was completely unfazed at the mention of his past love’s name.
Unfortunately, so was Yuffie.
“Well, duh. That’s what happens when you fall in love, dummy. Your whole world gets turned on its ear.”
“Hn.”
Enough games.
She squeaked again as he pulled her off of him roughly, and when her body hit the pillows, he turned her until she was laying on her side with her back to his front. She assumed they were just going to spoon again, but when he lifted her left leg up with his gauntlet and pivoted it back over his thigh, she gasped.
“What on Gaia are you doing?!”
Yuffied giggled when she felt first his thigh, then a few other prominent things, as he positioned himself carefully between her legs.
“Turning your world on its ear,” he whispered, and a shiver ran up her spine.
+
“Vincent, I made you some coffee, and– Fuck! Oh my gawd! Tell me that’s not your cape you’re incinerating!”
On their last morning in the mansion, Yuffie had been walking past him towards a bookshelf in the library when she glanced his way and noticed something red and burning on top of the logs in the fireplace. He was sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace by himself, smirking quietly, with a fire poker in one hand and a crystal tumbler full of whiskey in the other.
Dropping the book in her hands, Yuffie screeched and dove towards the flames, intent on removing the smoking garment. Before she got very far, however, she heard the clang of the poker as it hit the hardwood floor and Vincent’s arm shot out to snake around her waist. He yanked her back until she was straddling his thigh and facing the fire, his mouth at her ear.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I would never burn my cloak.”
He sounded downright smug.
“Then what is that,” she asked, leaning back to glare at him. She pointed at the red fabric that was busy going up in flames.
“That, Yuffie, is what was left of the red velvet lining the inside of my…”
Vincent paused, gazing at the flames as his eyes narrowed slightly. The corners of his mouth slowly quirked into a sly, almost evil little smile – what Yuffie called his ‘satisfied’ look, and she was seeing a lot of it lately. Vincent finally continued, amending what he was about to say.
“…of the red velvet lining the inside of the coffin.”
Her mouth gaped open a little bit, and he smiled more openly, closing her mouth gently with the knuckle of one metal-covered finger.
“I didn’t take you up on your offer to help destroy the lab because there is still valuable research in it. But this needed to be done.”
He shifted, sliding her off his thigh and tucking her into the circle of his arm.
“The coffin itself was made of granite, so I couldn’t burn it. Instead, I pulverized it with my gauntlet this morning while you were still asleep in bed. I was quite loud about it, yet you slept through the entire thing… I’ll have to remember that what I did to you last night is a perfectly acceptable cure for insomnia.”
Yuffie was too busy wrapping her brain around the fact that Vincent had destroyed the coffin to realize he was being witty again. He inspected the row of short, clean fingernails on his human hand causally.
“The rubble has been mixed into the gravel path that winds through the backyard garden.”
She blinked at him, and he tilted his head in the direction of the fire.
“It was time.”
+
Four mornings later saw them waking up side by side on slightly harder ground, with less than a half a day’s ride to the Palace left to go.
Vincent and Yuffie remained still, lying on their backs and staring up at the treated canvas ceiling of their tent. The birds had woken them up with their mad chirping in the tall trees that surrounded their makeshift campsite, forcibly announcing the dawn to everyone within earshot. Empress and Bodyguard did not speak for a long time.
Yuffie finally moved, brushing the back of her hand against Vincent’s hip. She bent her elbow and raised her arm, barely grazing his skin until her palm came to rest on his stomach. He trapped her hand there with his gauntlet, maintaining contact as if on reflex.
“The gang will be even more surprised at how you look the next time we meet up,” she said gently.
He paused, sliding his eyes to the side to glance at her face. She was staring at the fabric of the tent, her mind clearly beginning to race again. Silently, he wished – for his own greedy wants, yes, but more so for the sake of Yuffie’s contentment – that they didn’t have to return. Not just yet, anyway.
“You think so?”
“Sure. The clothes, the hair, the coffin, all of it… for anyone who doesn’t know you the way I do, they’d think you’ve really changed, just going by your appearance and some of the things you’ve done.”
“You don’t think I’ve changed?”
She shook her head. “Last November, when things started between us…” She paused, and bit her lip.
“My dear girl,” he said, mocking her slightly in an attempt to lift her mood. “Things started before that.”
She glanced over, staring at his mouth for a few moments, then looked into his eyes, nodding.
“Yeah… I just meant that the closer we get, the more I can tell, you’re the same decent, stand up guy you’ve always been. Only now, you’re just… I don’t know, less…”
“Withdrawn?”
“Okay. That’ll work.”
Yuffie flipped onto her side to face him. She reached over his waist, taking his gauntlet by the wrist. She tugged, turning him and wrapping his golden hand around her waist. When she put her arms around his neck, Vincent pulled her close until her mouth was nestled against his ear.
“God dammit I don’t wanna go home yet,” she whispered, sounding slightly hurt.
Must I disappoint her…?
For a moment he thought she was going to cry, maybe even hoped she would – so that he could pretend to be annoyed and give in to her desires, allowing them one more day of lazing about in the privacy of the wilderness.
‘But just one day, Yuffie, and no more, because we are already late and the people we care about will begin to worry…’
He went over what he wanted to say in his head, but her tears did not come.
“I know you don’t,” he finally answered, in a voice he granted only to her, tinged with sweetness and sympathy. “Neither do I.”
Five days ago they’d left the mansion and crossed the channel to Mime without incident, and then promptly began dragging their heels, consciously stretching out their time alone together like children lagging behind after a day of fun. The final leg of their journey should have taken no more than two days by chocobo, and it was now up to four.
But both of them knew that when they got back on the trail their next stop would be the pagoda, and then their treasured seclusion would truly come to an end. This very thought was now eating away at both of them, and they suddenly found themselves making love frantically.
Vincent’s arms and torso strained as he hovered above Yuffie, his fingers clutching at the thick blanket beneath her while he balanced on his palms. Her legs were snaked around his waist, and her hands had a death grip on his biceps. She looked up into his eyes with such desire on her face that the only response he could manage was to start thrusting inside her at fever pitch. Soon, their minds were a tangled mess of want and love and need, and they drowned in the sensations of their bodies coming together yet again.
But suddenly they paused, breathing heavily and staring at one another when they recognized that they were in a state of panic.
“We should…” She swallowed hard, gasping. “We should slow down,” she said. “Cuz it won’t matter what time we get back.”
He nodded in agreement. She released his upper arms, the pads of her fingers leaving bluish marks in his already pale skin. Vincent lowered himself until he was lying halfway on top of her, and thankfully she relaxed her legs in response. He cradled the back of her head in his hands, placing small, slow kisses on the sides of her face and neck. When he began moving again it was at a much slower pace, and Yuffie’s arms slipped around his back in a loose, comfortable hold.
“Everything will be all right,” he said, quiet and confident. She smiled, whispering his name in his ear, and he felt his heart swell.
They had no regrets, but it got them off to a late start. By the time the gleaming blood-red tips of the royal pagoda’s roof was in their sights, the entire structure looked like it was baking in the late afternoon sun.
He could practically hear her heart sinking. It was clear to the both of them that their sixteen-day respite could have lasted three months and it still wouldn’t have been long enough.
+
They moved into the capital unseen by civilian eyes, but during the last few miles Vincent had sensed the ninja escort that had accompanied them home. Hiroyuki met them at the top of their hill, behaving a bit sheepish about his involvement in deceiving his beloved Empress. Yuffie hugged him fiercely and thanked him for helping to make it happen.
The quiet ninja informed them that he had stayed out of the public eye for the entire duration of their getaway, helping to further Chekov’s fiction to the public that the Empress and the prince had simply gone on a quiet vacation together. Vincent watched as Yuffie tensed up, asking Hiro if there had been any complications from the split while she was gone, but he insisted that everything was going well and she should simply relax. When Hiro glanced back at Vincent, the gunsliger silently nodded his thanks.
Yuffie and Hiro re-entered the palace as husband and wife, returning together from their trip. It was only a few minutes after they reappeared before Yuffie was deluged by royal staff members, asking questions and making requests. The Empress smiled at them cordially, not paying any mind to the stoic, silent bodyguard standing exactly three feet behind her, and she regally refused to answer any inquiries as to their recent whereabouts.
Eventually Chekov intervened and saved them. The councilwoman pulled her up to the second level and addressed them both when it was safe to do so.
“Delightful! We are hosting a group of motel owners from Costa del Sol tonight. You were not expected, so they will be absolutely thrilled when you join them.”
“Oh, Gods… Okay, what do they want?”
“They want to open up an authentic Wuatin-style restaurant for the patrons near their establishments, so they are here to make a foodstuffs contract, and perhaps lure away a ‘Real Wutai Chef’ or two. Nothing complicated. Nothing we can’t handle for you, sweetheart. I know you are tired, but all you have to do is be gracious and tell a few jokes.”
Yuffie nodded, and Chekov smiled happily. The older woman announced her satisfaction with both Yuffie’s tan and Vincent’s hair, then she shooed them upstairs to get cleaned up for dinner.
When they finally got up to the third floor, two ninja guards nodded at them, maintaining their position in the hallway as though they’d been there all along and their charges had never left in the first place.
Almost feels that way, too, Vincent thought, trying not to be bitter.
“Thanks, dude.” Yuffie sighed and pat his arm, giving him a sad smile as he locked the door behind them.
He bristled. “I was foolishly hoping you wouldn’t be attacked with their wants and needs the second we returned. But it appears I cannot fix everything.”
She looked down, biting her lip. “Maybe not. But, hey, you’re pretty damn good with what you do fix, right?”
“Hn. Nevertheless, we should have left earlier this morning, and snuck back into the palace before anyone was awake.”
“Yeah, well… We were busy, remember?” Vincent didn’t answer that, but he did blush slightly. He threw their packs to the floor as she tossed her tired body onto the bed. “Next time, we’ll be even more sneaky,” she continued, watching him. “Like the good old days.”
“Next time…?”
“Yeah, only let’s not wait another year to do it.”
“You had a good vacation, then.”
“We had a great honeymoon.” She rolled over onto her stomach and smiled up at him with her chin perched on her palms. “It was the best two weeks of my life, Vincent.”
He stepped up to her and caressed her cheek affectionately. “And just think,” he said gently, “We have our entire lives in front of us to surpass it.” She smiled, completely unabashed at the suggestion behind his words.
After she got up and declared the bathroom hers first, he turned and began to unpack their things, content in the knowledge that she’d never do it.
+
Two weeks later, a plain cardboard package, about the size of a cake box, was delivered to the pagoda, all the way from Nibelheim.
Yuffie thought she was being so wily, waiting until she had a moment all to herself to open the box. She removed the treasure nestled inside, ogled the handiwork, and then quickly hung it up on the wall.
Later that night, however, Vincent’s sharp eyes did not fail to miss another framed hairwreath on the wall above their bed, positioned right next to the first one.
“Hn.”
He smiled, noting how nicely the gold and red accents of this new one complimented the greens and yellows of the original one.
“Where is the rest of it?” he asked as he climbed into bed, reaching for her.
“Oh… Somewhere safe,” Yuffie murmured, then she kissed him.

+

tbc

+

++++++++ notes ++++++++
Vincent’s one-liner outside the door of the mansion came directly from an email to me from Miss Mihoyonagi. It made me laugh too hard not to use it, so I fully credit her here. From the eMails we’ve shared I can tell she’s probably forgotten more about FFVII than I’ll ever know.
I debated whether to make The Coffin wood or stone; personally I think it looked like wood in the game FFVII, but… when I saw the part in Crisis Core where Zack was in the mansion and he heard the snoring, as the lid slid off it made that ‘stone-on-stone’ sound, so… I’m a goin’ with granite.
Feedback would be appreciated. Thanks for reading.
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Empress & Concubine, Part II