3.
Zack was
the only one of them who'd been born to a tropical climate; the other three
were accustomed to seasons that changed, to leaves that turned colors and fell
to be buried by snow and ice that would make way for new flowers. Sometimes
they remembered to change the day-calendar Aeris had brought, but not always;
Cloud surreptitiously checked the walls for dates when he went to trade in
Gongaga, and corrected their calendar if it was more than a week off.
Really,
the most reliable way to notice the passage of time was to watch Aeris'
waistline enlarging. She moved more slowly and carefully, and smiled even more
often than usual, and appreciated their hands when she needed to lift herself
from the ground or from a too-deep hammock; and she loved floating in the
cove's warm water, because it carried her weight for her. Either Zack or
Sephiroth stayed with her whenever she was in the water, because the tropical
sea held poisonous fish that could sting if startled -- but somehow the sea
life realized that although Aeris was a living enchantment, Zack and Sephiroth
were much larger predators, and so they didn't come too close.
The
vine-flowers were getting really pushy about Aeris' laundry, though, and had
ventured into capturing used dishes and untended sandals.
Despite
Zack's unflagging enthusiasm for the nudist colony solution ("really! It'd
save us all kinds of time and effort to just let the weeds win!"),
Cloud and Sephiroth sat down and calculated how much wire screen it would take
to fence in all the sides of the temple gate rows and save their housewares
from the daily encroachments.
The
answer was "a lot."
Sephiroth
had become lethally proficient at bringing in large fish even without the
poisons and paralytics he could inject; a good Ice spell or two kept them fresh
enough for Cloud to run them to inland cities, where the prices for fresh fish
were better than they were on the coasts. So he took several extra fish in to
Cosmo Canyon to sell for gil, then headed back to the Gongaga port to shop for
whatever supplies wouldn't fit on some overeager shipper's leaking boat.
He was
surprised to find Gongaga almost entirely boarded up, and the bookseller with
boxes on the doorstep labeled 'ten gil a crate'.
When he
asked why, the bookseller gave him an incredulous look and explained about
monsoon season, humidity, mildew, and paper stored in high density with no air
circulation. Cloud asked how soon the monsoon season was going to start, and
the bookseller looked at his watch pointedly.
It had
started drizzling in Gongaga by the time Cloud found a way to pack tarp-covered
book crates alongside the wire rolls on the chocobos. When he arrived back at
the island, it had already been pouring there for three days, and Cloud brought
the birds into the shrine to get them as dry as possible in air that had to be
well over a hundred percent humidity.
Apparently,
there were several species of plants that only came out in the monsoon season.
Apparently,
they grew really, really fast.
And
apparently, they all really liked Aeris.
Sephiroth
had been patrolling at the main gate, gripping several dozen machetes, knives,
broken bottles, and sharp rocks in his tentacles in addition to the Masamune in
his hands, and his grim assessment was that he was barely keeping the weed
situation at a draw. (That was alarming, considering how really, really lethal-looking his cat-of-nine-dozen-tails impression had been from a
respectful distance.)
He and
Cloud made quick work of tacking up the screening, and then came back inside to
dry off and regroup.
Zack had
tried to help with the plant-vanquishing during the first couple days of
Cloud's absence, but he'd always been horrendously allergic to the
monsoon-flora pollen; he had devolved into a curled-up oozing mess of snot,
goo, and slime huddled under a blanket in his hammock.
"No
wonder he left Gongaga," Aeris said, biting her lip to keep herself from
giggling at how woeful he looked as she coaxed another cup of juice into him.
"All right, the slime's got to be new, but the dripping nose must have
come with the original model. Poor Zack..."
"I
didn't know a living being could excrete that many semi-liquid substances from
that many orifices and not become a dessicated husk," Sephiroth said, in
an oddly revolted fascination.
Zack
mumbled something sour and pulled the blanket further over his head with a
goo-sticky tentacle.
"He
says to be grateful for your designer-gene sinuses," Aeris translated, and
peeled up a corner of the blanket to offer the tip of the straw from his juice.
A
tentacle-tip curled around it and pulled it further into the shadows, and then
there were some slurping-and-gulping-and-snuffling noises.
It was
possibly the most pathetic thing Cloud had ever seen.
"Can't
we cast Cure or Heal on him or something?" he asked, patting the huddle of
what was either a shoulder or tentacles through the blanket.
"That's
the trouble with allergies," Aeris said. "You don't need to boost
your healing abilities into high gear -- your immune system is already in high gear and is overreacting. About the best we can do is keep him hydrated
and hope whatever it is has a really short pollination season."
"Oh."
Cloud chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. "Distractions would be good, then?"
"Distractions
and juice," Aeris agreed, looking through his boxes of books with raised
brows. "Weapons Maintenance and Repair I can see, but Geological
Surveys of the Midgarian Floodplain, 1930-1975? I didn't know you were
interested in rocks."
"I'm
not," Cloud mumbled, unfastening the ropes at his ankles. "They were
just ...there." He started wriggling out of his pants and underwear next,
and Aeris' eyes widened even more.
"Cloud?"
"Um."
He suspected he was blushing, but didn't want to look around to check as he
tugged at a soggy blanket-corner and dangled his underwear as though Zack were
a cat to be coaxed out from under the furniture. "Distractions," he
said, "right?"
Aeris put
both hands over her mouth, but the muffled squeaks that escaped had clearly
started life as giggles.
A few
drippy tentacles wriggled their way out; one delicately plucked the underwear
out of his hand and discarded it, and the others fumbled around his hip and
thigh and tugged. Cloud obediently stepped closer, and a small swarm of
tentacles poked out from under the blanket just long enough to scoop him up and
drag him into the hammock.
A
bleary-eyed Zack peeked out from under the blanket, then tried and failed to
give him what was intended for a smoldering look. It was beyond even Zack's
powers of lust to smolder appropriately when excreting mucus from every
available orifice; but Cloud felt so sorry for him, he had to offer anyway.
"Look,
Zack," he said, trying what he hoped could be mistaken for a provocative
wriggle, fiercely embarrassed about it. "Molestable."
"Hnngh."
A couple of tentacles tugged him lower in the hammock, and Zack nuzzled his
cheek against Cloud's thigh, eyes drifting closed -- and then he fell asleep.
"How
ill is he?" Sephiroth asked, startled for the first time since Zack
had oozed his way into the hammock to convalesce.
Aeris
couldn't help herself; she burst out laughing, which made Cloud blush harder,
even as he stroked both hands through Zack's humidity-and-drool-damp hair.
Once
they'd mostly convinced Sephiroth that Zack passing out before molesting Cloud
was not a sign he was on his deathbed, they decided Cloud's crates of
random books might be a better distraction after all. Certainly a less
energetic one, in any event.
"Not
Your Mama's Crochet?" Sephiroth asked, and Cloud decided he might as
well set his own ears on fire and be done with it.
"They
were just books," he said, miserable. "The bookseller said to
take a couple crates or they'd mildew. I didn't actually look at
them."
"Give
me that one," Aeris said. "I can't even read the title of this
one."
"Dai
shih da xao. Classical Wutain philosophies of war," Sephiroth said
after a glance at the cover when he exchanged books with her.
"Really?
That could be interesting," Aeris said.
"I
had memorized it by the time I was seven," Sephiroth replied. "It's
rather dull and method-bound, and the tactics they actually employed in the war
were far more ...inelegant, inventive, and effective. They should have updated
it years ago in any fairness to their commanders, let alone their
opponents."
"It's
probably a classic, then," Cloud said gloomily. "Nobody ever updates
things once they get called classics."
"Hmm."
Sephiroth looped tentacles around a dozen more of the books scattered across
the floor, and looked over the spines and covers for anything of potential
interest. "Obstetrics and Gynecology, fifth edition. It doesn't
look too badly out of date."
"Seph!" Cloud protested, half laughing and half embarrassed. "Isn't that more
Zack's type of book?"
"Too
clinical," Aeris said with an indulgent look. "Zack's more the New
Joy of Sex, Fully Illustrated type. --But given the rest of this batch as
his porn-stash alternatives, maybe we should hide it from him anyway."
Sephiroth
shook his head, already paging through the book. "I believe we should all
study the obstetrics section as much as time allows," he murmured,
"for your sake."
"Oh."
Aeris leaned against his shoulder, smiling down at the tentacles he curved
about her waist to steady and support her. "That's sweet of you, but I
won't have any problems."
"How
certain are you?"
"I'm positive," she said, and reached up to tweak his nose; the sight of
those luminous green cat-eyes going crossed was always peculiar, which was
probably why she did it. "But thank you for the thought."
Sephiroth
inclined his head slightly, but didn't put the book aside.
"Seph?"
Cloud asked.
"Confidence
is well and good," Sephiroth said, "but her confidence may be based
upon the condition that we will all have studied, and will therefore be
prepared when her time comes. I would hate to cause her certainty of well-being
to become shaken through inadequate preparation upon our parts, when we will
bear responsibility for her care."
"...um.
What?"
"He's
saying providence helps those who helps themselves," Aeris said, rueful,
and then looked up at Sephiroth again. "You know, the more hesitant you
feel, the more complicated your language gets. It's like you've been
preconditioned to bury any uncertainty in bureaucrat-ese."
"That's
not surprising," Cloud said, eyes lowered. "Nobody in the Shinra
higher-ups were very big on people coming out and saying things like 'I'm not
sure about that.'"
"That,"
Aeris said softly, "is probably the source of most of their
problems."
"We'll
have to correct that, then," Sephiroth said.
"What?"
Cloud asked, blinking. "We're going to go back to Midgar and teach
remedial classes in how to waffle?"
Sephiroth
looked up from the book at that, and the glitter in his eyes wasn't at all
reassuring. "Not at all," he murmured. "I intend to be the
source of Hojo's problems, and Hojo's problems cause Shinra's problems. And I
don't intend to let that position slip from my grasp."
"You're
such an overachiever!" Aeris told him lightly, leaning her head against
his shoulder. "We're living in a tropical paradise. Most people would
consider that a vacation. And being on vacation means not being responsible for anything, even the downfall of an evil planetwide megacorporation."
"We
are refugees, not tourists," Sephiroth said, sharp-voiced. "We
did not discard our ranks, careers, and lives in flight from Shinra's grip upon
the civilized world simply to take in the dubious charms of Wutain
monsoons."
"...We've
still got to work on that whole 'teasing' idea too, don't we," Aeris said,
gently stroking a hand over a tentacle that had tightened itself about her
forearm and hip in his agitation.
Sephiroth
looked away, and his voice was too tightly controlled when he spoke again.
"They must be stopped," he said to the shadows beyond the reach of
the firelight. "Before the President's megalomania and Hojo's mad quest
for genetically mutated 'new creations' exact a price the world cannot afford
to pay. I know that I was merely his prototype."
"You're
right, of course," Aeris said. "But... we don't have a way to stop
them by ourselves, just the four of us, right now. You and Zack could make
quite a difference in the odds, of course, but you're also ...vulnerable in
ways others might not be. And I'm just not in fighting shape at the moment. So
in the meantime, is it so terrible to pretend to be tourists?"
Cloud
squeaked.
Aeris and
Sephiroth both looked over.
Under
their scrutiny, he began to turn an interesting series of colors, ending up in
a charming pink. He was biting his bottom lip hard to keep himself still, eyes
shut tight, making tiny gasps for air when he dared, but another squeak escaped
despite his best efforts.
The
blanket was wriggling in a suspiciously slow, languorous manner, and when they
were all very quiet, they could hear ...licking.
"Oh,
Zack must have woken up!" Aeris said brightly. "It sounds like he's
feeling more energetic."
Cloud
blushed even brighter.
"No,
that’s good," Aeris assured him. "Distractions, remember?
Making him feel better? You're doing wonderfully. Say, do you think you could
coax some more juice into him while he's up to sucking on--"
Sephiroth
somehow managed to get a hand over her mouth before she finished the sentence.
He picked her up in a careful twine of tentacles, gave Cloud a gravely
sympathetic nod, and carried both of them out with a bit more haste than
dignity.
3b.
"I'b
sheerioush," Zack said, congestedly. "I doe dis baadenda wif dis
'mazin' rack, an' I'b nod dawkin 'boud de wine cellar if you doe wad I
bean--"
"No,
actually, I'm not sure I do," Sephiroth said, brows furrowed.
"Bad-ender?"
"Bartender?"
Cloud offered, and Zack nodded and pointed emphatically.
"Yeah, dad. Baa-denda."
"Of course you know bartenders," Sephiroth said, wearily. "What besides her wine
cellar makes this one unique?"
"Nod
de wine cellar, de rack -- deber bind." He snuffled and gulped
unpleasant substances, then tried harder to enunciate, with limited success.
"Sheez a derrorisd doo."
"...A
what?"
Zack
rolled his eyes and flailed with both hands: "Derrorisd. Blowz shtuff ub.
--KABOOM."
Sephiroth
looked to Cloud for translation, brows quirked into an exquisitely skeptical
arch.
"Don’t
ask me, sir," Cloud said uncomfortably.
"Your
bartender friend makes Molotov cocktails too?" Aeris asked.
"Yesh!"
Zack nodded hard, then clutched at his aching head. "Yeah. Like dad. Boom.
Lodz ob boom."
Cloud and
Sephiroth traded another look. "You want her to blow up your sinuses with
something alcoholic that will let you breathe again?" Cloud hazarded.
"Doe,"
Zack said. "Shin-ra."
"...You
want Shin-ra to blow up your sinuses so you can... wait. Huh?"
Zack
buried his face in both hands. "Lader," he mumbled. "Jus'...
lader."
Cloud
looked over at Sephiroth for help -- but Sephiroth was looking thoughtful, in a way that somehow made Cloud very, very nervous.
"Molotov
cocktails," he said, "for Shin-ra."
Zack
looked up again at that, and his grin showed a lot of teeth. "Yeah,"
he said. "Sheez a good baadenda. --Wif a gread rack doo!"
"I
believe I can approve of this particular cocktail party." Sephiroth's
smile was even less reassuring.
4.
The
tentacles came out of nowhere and snaked about her waist -- well, what remained
of it -- with no warning at all; Aeris sighed, because once she caught her
breath the only real surprise was that these tentacles were green-striped.
"Don't
tell me Zack's gotten to you too," Aeris said, trying to stretch just a
little further up the ladder in order to reach that last annoying cobweb in the
rafters.
"You
shouldn't be doing such things," Sephiroth said, and then there was a
tentacle trying to take away her duster; she hung on tight, and glared
fiercely.
"My duster! If you want a featherduster so badly, go get your own." Then
her lips quirked despite her best intentions: "Cloud doesn't wriggle as
much once you get a good grip on him, and Zack's hair scares me some days. I'd
use Cloud if I were you."
Sephiroth
simply blinked at her, brows faintly furrowed in perplexity; she sighed, and
gently stroked the tentacles that had wrapped themselves about her belly and
hips in order to steady her balance on the ladder.
"We
really do need to work on this teasing thing, you know."
"No,
I understood the concept," Sephiroth assured her, far too gravely for her
liking. "I'd simply hoped..."
"Hoped
what?" Deciding she wasn't about to fall with such an overprotective
anchor, Aeris took another step up on the ladder -- and then found herself
lifted off the step entirely, with more tentacles twinng about her to support
her weight, and a more insistent tug on the duster.
"I
had hoped that you might be more sensible than Zack is, not to mention more
sensible than he'd suggested you would be," Sephiroth said, vexed.
"You are the last of your race, carrying your last hope for the future,
and yet you would risk all that for the sake of cobwebs?"
"I'm not made of glass," Aeris said. "I'm tired of being coddled,
I'm tired of being hovered at -- I'm tired of Cloud flinching every time I
sneeze-- I'm tired of being useless. You all treat me like I'm about to break.
I'm fine. I need something I can do, and you won't let me hunt and you
won't let me clean and if it weren't for the fact that you all burn anything
you put over a fire you probably wouldn't even let me cook, and I'm just...
tired of this." Digging a hand through her hair and trying to fight back
tears of pure frustration, she said, "The only surprise is that it's not
all three of you here hovering at me..."
"I
suggested that we should take turns," Sephiroth said.
She'd
meant to laugh, but it came out more than half a sob anyway. "Of course
you did." She scrubbed a hand across her face, and said, "And I
assume you assigned eight-hour shifts, too, General? Just to make sure the
illogical, brainless pregnant woman never has the chance to do something
dangerous like lifting a teacup on her own?"
"Teacups
are hardly as dangerous as unsupported, unsteady ladders," Sephiroth told
her, with the little perplexity-crease showing up between his brows again.
"Is this hyperbole or hysteria? Zack wasn't clear about the
difference."
Bursting
into tears was really, really the worst thing she could have done for
her side of the argument, Aeris thought with the last dimly rational corner of
her mind, even as the rest of her was hurt and furious and shamed and resentful
of their attitudes and their strength and their man-ness and sometimes their
squid-ness, and Zack's thoughtless insistence that everything that went wrong
was all just her mood swings, and the way Cloud took everything so damned
personally, and Sephiroth's terrible frigid logic and everything.
She hit
him with the feather-duster, which wasn't a terribly useful weapon, but then he
set her on the floor and untwined all his tentacles and withdrew himself
entirely -- and for some reason that made her cry even harder. She knew it was Sephiroth, the one who could barely deal with the easy emotions,
the one who had no idea what to do with anyone's grief or anger, not even his
own -- maybe especially not his own. But she was sick of everything --
sick of having to be the cheerful one when they were smothering her, sick of
her back aching, sick of having to handle their emotional traumas when she felt
on the verge of falling apart herself, sick of having to keep trying to
understand all these men who either pulled back and hid or never stopped
teasing about hormonal mood swings even when it was long past the point of
being funny, and now the one who'd gone and made her cry didn't even have the
decency to hold her, and--
--and
there was something white nudging at her cheek.
A
handkerchief.
At the
end of a tentacle.
...Sephiroth
was all but hiding behind the doorframe, watching her as warily as
though she were about to stab him with the featherduster, with one tentacle
snaked across and cautiously dabbing the handkerchief at the tear-streaks on
her cheeks. She snatched the handkerchief away from him, wiped her eyes, blew
her nose, and looked at the tentacle -- and then she started to giggle despite
herself, rather soggily, still sniffling back tears that just didn't want to
stop.
"What
should I do?" he asked, wary. "Should I fetch another to comfort you,
since I was the cause of your distress? Or would you prefer to be left
alone?"
Aeris bit
her lip hard, because her first reaction was you ought to know better than
that! You ought to know I want to be held-- and then that was followed by I'm
asking Sephiroth to know what to do about emotional upheavals. Shinra's General
Sephiroth, dealing with a crying pregnant woman. Have I lost my mind?
That
thought was followed by And I don't even have the injections and the
tentacles, so he couldn't understand me through that connection. The poor man.
No wonder he looks traumatized.
But he
shouldn't have to be told that I want him to hold me, the exhausted, upset four-year-old
in the back of her mind protested. It doesn't count if I have to tell him
what I want him to do. Zack just knows when I need to be held--
But the
thought of asking Sephiroth -- or even Cloud -- to have Zack's kind of
instinctive understanding of emotional behavior was so patently ridiculous that
Aeris shook her head at herself, scrubbed at her cheeks again, and tried hard
to keep her voice from breaking in embarrassment as she said, "Come hold
me?"
He came
to her immediately, and he probably even thought the tension in his tentacles
wouldn't be noticeable. His shoulders were stiff when she wrapped her arms
around him and buried her face in the curve of his throat and the luxuriant
spill of his hair; his hands were too steady against her back, as though she
were a weapon to be held precisely lest it turn in his grasp and cut him.
"I
apologize," he said, more awkward than she'd ever heard him. "I never
intended to distress you with my ignorance. --The distinction between hyperbole
and hysteria is much more clear now."
She
thought about hitting him, but the laughter won first. "Live
demonstrations make everything clearer, right?"
"It
is quite a useful method of instruction, yes."
Aeris
choked on a laugh, and blew her nose again, and said, "You're the most
intelligent idiot I've ever met."
She could
feel him stiffen again, and the injury in his voice was clear when he said,
"I beg your pardon -- what about Zack?"
"Him?
Hardly. He's the most cheerful idiot," Aeris said, and mopped at
her eyes, and got a good grip on a tentacle to tug with. "Come on, you.
There are cobwebs in the bedroom too."
Following
along in faintly bewildered acceptance, Sephiroth said, "Cloud isn't an
idiot."
"No,"
Aeris agreed, "but as long as we're discussing our less charming traits,
he's got both of you beat in pure force of stubbornness. --Fortunately, so do
I." She looped two of his tentacles about her waist, then pointed her
featherduster up into the corner and said firmly, "Up."
Sephiroth looked at her.
Aeris
crossed her arms atop the bulge of her stomach and looked right back at
him. "You objected to the ladder. I gave up the ladder. I object to the
cobwebs. Work with me here."
"..."
"What?"
she demanded.
"You
do realize," he said, even as he lifted her gently toward the corner,
"that you could have simply given me the featherduster to begin
with?"
"I
told you, didn't I? Sheer stubbornness, Cloud and me," Aeris said, and
patted the tentacles curved so carefully about her child-rounded girth.
"I'd imagine the baby's going to be an unholy terror. Particularly around
two or three, when 'no' comes into the vocabulary."
From the
distance of tentacle-length at the far corner of the shrine's undusted reaches,
she didn't quite catch what he muttered under his breath. It might well have
been Wutain soldiers' profanity, at that.
Oddly
cheered by the knowledge that Sephiroth wasn't quite so impervious to
intimidation after all, Aeris began whistling to herself as she dusted her way
along the underside of the shrine's eaves.
Continued...