ilcuoreardendo: (consumation HxC)
[personal profile] ilcuoreardendo
Trial Run!

I've never written this pairing before. I was thinking of a short series with some erotic tid bits...


This is the dead land
This is the cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star


“The Hollow Men” ~ T. S. Elliot


She came to him the night before they entered the Crater.

He’d sensed her presence as he sat before the fire checking and cleaning his weapons. She’d stood watching him for a moment, the steady movements of his hands as he oiled the Quicksilver and wiped it down with a soft cloth, before she came out of the darkness, a quilt from the barracks of the Highwind wrapped around her body, doing little to keep out the chill. Shivering, she sat on the ground near him, eyes focused on the fire, but occasionally flickering to watch him.

Vincent could see her eyes taking in the angles of his face as he concentrated on his weapons. She was always watching him, stealing quick glances when she could. Glances she thought he didn’t notice. She’d been observing him since he joined the party in Nibelheim. It didn’t surprise him. The others watched him too, though not nearly as close as she.

And he’d be lying if he said some part of him didn’t enjoy her eyes on him… There was a certain satisfaction in her observations, as though his most miniscule movements were of the greatest importance whether he was seeing to his weapons or refastening the clasps on his cloak after a transformation…



She was, in point of fact, the only one who saw him transform in the midst of battle. The others, he noted, made very sure to keep their eyes turned away when those low growls began escaping his body, right before he would throw off his cloak, right before the wings split his skin.

She’d seen it all before. And hadn’t shied away…

He paused for the breath of a moment before sitting aside the Quicksilver and picking up the Death Penalty. The firelight glinted off the gun barrel. He began again the process of cleaning. “Can you not sleep?”

Tifa jumped at the sound of his voice, low as it was.

“No, I…I think I’ve gotten all that I can…”

“It’s early still. You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.” He picked up the cloth and stroked it across the body of the gun.

“Aren’t you tired?” Tifa asked.

“I don’t sleep much.”

She heard the unspoken “anymore” at the end of that sentence and turned her body, leaning her arms against the length of stone on which Vincent sat.

“And you’re not afraid either, are you?”

Vincent flicked open the chamber, flicked it closed, passed the cloth once more over the gun and holstered it.

“Why would you think that?”

“You’re so calm.”

“Would you rather I paced? Indulged in hysterics?”

She tried to imagine such an outburst from Vincent and felt a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “I’m terrified,” she said, “Afraid of losing someone, everyone. More than I’m afraid of failing. That’s kind of stupid isn’t it? If we fail…we’re all lost anyway.”

She shivered again, the tremors traveling throughout her body. There was a quick breeze and a new layer of warmth enveloped her. She glanced at Vincent to see him now black against the blacker night, the only color gracing him his golden arm and bandana. His cloak lay wrapped around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

He gave a single almost imperceptible nod of his head. “It won’t help to dwell on what hasn’t yet happened.”

“I know…” Her fingers moved over the buckles on the collar of the cloak. “Vincent…”

She always said his name like that. Half a whisper. As though she were afraid to speak too loudly. He could practically see the way the word formed inside her mouth, the roll of vowel and consonants over her tongue. He wondered briefly how his name tasted to her.

“Yes?”

“What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

“You mean, do I think we’ll ‘win?’” Tifa lowered her head. “I am not given to the notion that good,” the word sounded strange to him, “always triumphs over evil.”

Tifa nodded.

“But," he continued, "neither do I underestimate the value of strength and talent in numbers. We have,” he lifted a broad stick with his claw and prodded the embers, making the fire flare hotter than before, “as good a chance at defeating him as he does us. Perhaps a little more.”

“You’re refreshing, you know.”

He turned to her now, quirking an eyebrow.

“Cloud…would have given me some big motivational speech. He would have tried to make me feel better.” She laughed softly. “You tell me like it is. As you think it is. Not how you hope it will be. I like that….”

“There are a few hours left until sunrise….”

“I’m fine where I am.”

Vincent turned his attention back to the fire, feeling her eyes linger on him.

Some time later he heard Tifa’s breathing even out in an easy sleep rhythm. Her head lay pillowed on her hands and she had snuggled even further into his cloak; only the upper portion of her face was visible to him. She murmured something in her sleep. Something that sounded like a name.

He stiffened and watched her but she didn’t speak again.

Raising his eyes to the sky he could just pick out the telltale signs of dawn coming in the blue hues that were appearing over the mountaintop. The end of the journey was drawing near, whatever end that might be.

30 years… Lucrecia…

Would tomorrow prove enough?

He glanced at the sleeping girl next to him then back to the fire’s center.

It would have to be enough.


~*~

The sights and sounds of a world fighting back is not something one easily forgets.

When Holy disintegrated throughout the sky, Vincent felt the planet shake, felt the sigh of earth, and wind, and water, and watched as those tiny particles of life he’d glimpsed in the observatory at Cosmo Canyon began to worm their way through the soil, slithering over the lips of the great Northern Crater and trickling down from the distant trees like so much water.

All but Cid stood on the deck of the Highwind watching the streams swell against the night, against the dark tide of the ocean far below them, moving quickly toward that cankerous metropolis on the opposite shore.

Tifa stood next to him, hands clinging to the side of the air ship, knuckles white with the pressure of her grip.

They watched as Meteor descended in a flaming ball toward the city of Midgar and the life stream rose up to meet it.

As the two met a burst of energy shook the airship and her knees, weak from anticipation and the battle, gave out, pitching her forward; unable to stop herself she could already imagine her body falling to the ground below.

But before she could topple over the railing a firm arm wrapped around her mid section. Turning, she saw the sharp metal fingers of Vincent’s left hand dig into the wall, creating an anchor, as he wrapped his other arm around her and lifted her on his hip away from the edge; he held her tight against him, cradling her body in the shelter of his own as the air currents pummeled the ship.

Together they watched the world across the sea crumble.

(no subject)

Date: 2006-09-04 07:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nineshadows.livejournal.com
Whoa. I was very surprised to come across this on a random LJ tour. I particularly enjoyed the last line... And now I'm hooked! (then again, I am a shameless Vincent+Tifa addict.) You will continue, of course?

May I friend you?

(no subject)

Date: 2006-09-05 01:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sanguineroses.livejournal.com
^^ Thank you. Yes, I will continue. I already have a few more drafted pieces...I'm just not sure when I'll get the bulk of this out and up.

May I friend you?

By all means. (And I just realized I'm commenting with my regular journal...so don't mind the name switching. ^^)

(no subject)

Date: 2010-05-07 08:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kotoko-skoal.livejournal.com
Ooh, this has me interested! Friend me please?

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