*
Cloud reigned in the gold chocobo outside a tent he recognized as Tifa's. He took off the saddle and bridle, set it off to graze with Tifa's blue one, and then ducked inside the tent. She was tucked into her sleeping bag reading a book. He set his sword and scabbard by the door and then sat on the ground beside her.
Tifa lowered the book to give him a smile. "Hey, you. What's with the face? Couldn't find Yuffie?"
He laid back to rest his head against her stomach. She immediately began playing with his spiked hair, just as she always did. "Nah. Nobody's seen her for weeks. She never disappears until someone actually needs something."
"It can't be that bad. Don't you think Shera and Cid can handle it? They've done a good job so far."
Cloud shrugged. "I guess, but this is going to be different. This time they need to come up with something that actually works."
Tifa gave him a playful knock on the head. "Give them a break, Cloud. It's hard to work under pressure with someone like Barret constantly looking over your shoulder. Don't you remember?"
"I know, I know. I guess I'm just getting a little frustrated with the slow progress. I mean, it's been a month. We should have some kind of idea for a power supply by now. The people are getting nervous."
"So are you, it sounds like." Tifa sat up, carefully adjusting Cloud's head into her lap. She smiled down at him. "You know, you don't have to be the savior all the time. Take a vacation. Let someone else worry about the planet and everyone on it."
One side of his lips tilted upward. "Sounds like a good idea, but . . . ."
Tifa smiled wider. "But you like being the good guy."
"Well, yeah."
She kissed his forehead. "That's what I like about you." She gazed down at him expectantly. "Okay, Mr. Good Guy, what's the plan? You can't find Yuffie, I can't get a definite answer from Mr. Pain-In-Everyone's-Ass, and we have a shy professor in love with a distant and close-mouthed ex-Turk. What do you suggest we do?"
Cloud was quiet for a long time before he let out a quick breath and looked away from Tifa's face. "Go on vacation?"
She chuckled. "Hey, you started it. You can't back out now."
"Why not? We've got the tent, the girl, the boy--"
Tifa flushed. "Hold it right there, Mister."
Cloud laughed. "You're too easy." He sat up before she could clobber him, rolling to a standing position. "I'm going to go get my bedroll and tent and start setting up. If you want to help . . ."
He ducked outside. Tifa put her hands on her hips with a shake of her head and a slow smile. Then she slipped free of the sleeping bag and put on her shoes. She stepped outside to help Cloud.
"So are you going back to Nibelheim to help Natalie?"
Cloud nodded. "Yeah. I've got to. I feel like a jerk for what I did before."
"I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture. I don't think she feels all that great about how she acted either."
"I deserved it."
Tifa nodded with a laugh. "Yes, you did. And she gave it to you squarely between the eyes. It was great fun to watch."
"Ha ha. Very funny."
They secured the tent, and then Cloud disappeared inside to set up his bedroll. Tifa waited outside until he emerged again. "Say, Cloud, let's go for a walk. We need to get firewood anyway."
"Sure. Let me get my sword." He slipped on the massive scabbard, adjusted the sword on his back, and then grabbed her hand. "Just don't ask me what I'm going to do about Natalie and the whole Vincent thing. I haven't any idea, and I don't want to think about it either."
Tifa tightened her grip on his hand with a smile. "Okay."
IX
EXPERIMENTS OF FRUSTRATION
"Yes. That makes sense," Natalie muttered, "but this? No. I must have read wrong. Where was that page?"
Vincent adjusted his position against the tree as he watched her. One of her curls had strayed the fetters of her no-nonsense ponytail to continuously tickle her forehead. This, of course, encouraged the occasional action of blowing air through her lips to chase it away, or the ever-effective swipe of the back-of-hand or wrist. Apparently, Natalie wasn't too worried about preventing grease or oil spots with the action. She already had quite a collection on her forehead and nose, as well as on her jeans and sweatshirt.
Of course, the quad had been working on the project for nearly 10 hours.
Yuffie and Red, who had been found exploring the fossil ruins on the other side of Mt. Nibel, were now en route to Wutai to procure a waterwheel. Natalie, on the other hand, was double-checking connections and modifications as she readied the contraption for its first test. She hadn't taken a break since the two emerged from the basement lab of Shinra Mansion.
At times it was a bittersweet duty Vincent had chosen, watching her. She reminded him of Lucrecia in so many ways. Her intelligence. Her tenacity. Her determination. There the similarities ceased. A softer and more humorous side overlaid all of Natalie's aggressive traits. Vincent couldn't remember whether or not Lucrecia had shown the same. It had been too long.
"Ouch!" Natalie dropped whatever tool she had been using and rubbed at an unknown body part with a frown.
"What happened?" he found himself asking.
She absently nodded, and then her head once again disappeared out of his field of vision. One of Vincent's eyebrows twitched. Yes. She is tenacious and persistent.
"Blast!" Natalie exclaimed.
Vincent straightened and made his way toward her. Natalie sat back on her heels with a grease and grime covered hand to her forehead as the other rested on her hip.
He crouched beside her. "Blast what?"
Natalie released an annoyed breath. "Of all the--It's so simple," she muttered, again wiping away the curl with the back of her hand. "Why am I having such an issue?"
"Perhaps you need a break?" Vincent offered as he watched her face.
Natalie wrinkled her nose and leaned toward the would-be generator again. "What is wrong with you?" she asked the machine. "Quit fighting and just do it. Sheesh." Her head ducked inside.
Vincent smirked. "Professor."
"Not now please," she said in an absent tone, muffled from the innards of the machine. "Busy."
His smile widened. "Yes, I know. However, dinner calls."
"Tell them I'll be there in a minute," came the muffled response. A hand reached out for a tool, grabbed it, and disappeared inside.
A chuckle fought back the inner cold as he straightened. "Very well."
Vincent stepped toward Nibelheim and the Item Shop to get something for her to eat. How he would persuade her to step away from the project would be the interesting challenge. He didn't believe she would be completely uncooperative. He simply needed to find the best way to attract--or distract--her attention. Memories of Lucrecia's own type of one-track persistence made him believe such would be a challenge but not impossible. She would either respond with irritation or with . . . patience?
Vincent's eyebrow twitched. He didn't know enough about her to expect a reaction either way. In fact, their current relationship was nothing but a . . . fascination? Yes. Natalie was lovely, with her shoulder-length auburn curls, sparkling green eyes, and slight build containing such passion and intensity. But there burned something deeper which fascinated him. Her persona.
The green eyes which glimmered with concern and empathy, though her own life could not possibly equate to his own tortures. The lips which easily spoke encouragement when she remained silent. The simple loveliness of her face which brightened . . . when he was seen. Yes. She fascinated him. Her acceptance. Her tenacity. All for him. Yet shouldn't I still be considered a stranger to her? A stranger? To the one who understood him better than anyone had? A stranger to the one who had studied him and his history for nearly half their lifetime? A stranger? Vincent shook his head. No, she has never been that. A concept that was hard to grasp.
Vincent released a slow breath as he paused on the threshold of the Item Shop. He looked down at his han
ds: claw and human. Monster and man. Then he shifted that stare once more toward Mt. Nibel. She didn't flinch. At each touch, she did not cringe or retract. And that was harder to grasp. The understanding or reasoning wouldn't be held or understood.
Vincent's gaze returned to his hands. "I don't know."
All he had come to believe began to crumble. To her I am neither monster, nor heartless Turk, nor destroyer of families. I am not a robber of hope. I am . . . Vincent blinked as he slowly lowered his arms to his side and stepped inside the Item Shop.
A Rose By Any Other Name Page 7