Midgar Burning - Chapter 16
Title: Midgar Burning
Authors: silence_laughs and calvi_sama
Pairing: Cid x Vincent
Rating: NC-17 (eventually), most certainly R
Disclaimer: We do not in any way own, nor profit from, the characters and/or locations of FFVII, that would all be SquareEnix. Also any other references to persons or products mentioned herein are purely coincidental *coughs*.
Warnings: Adult themes, blood, some violence, language, kidnapping, torture, mentions of abuse, murder, and above all else...yaoi, the 'inappropriate to minors' kind, the 'makes us sit up past our bedtimes reading' kind, 'cause lets face it folks, it just wouldn't be the same without it! >:3
Summary: Even as Cid fights to show Vincent it’s okay to love again, Vincent’s enemies are moving in. Can Cid secure a place in Vincent’s heart before their world falls apart?
A/N: Two things folks: 1) This is an RP and 2) This fic is AU. The usual players here: silence = Cid, and all in Cid's world, and yours truly = Vincent, and all in Vin's world. Easiest way to say it. ^^ This fic is a 'novel'-form piece (ie multi-chapter) that is darker than what we normally write, and out of our comfort zone in the fact that we normally prefer to stick to canon-type stuff. But I got the idea from ani_mama's artwork (more specifically this picture), persuaded silence to "go along with it", and it's been going 'full steam ahead' since then, and quite grown on us. We hope you all like it!
Chapter 16
“You’re losing sight of the goal, Vincent.”
“What? No, I’m not!” he replied, shivering as the misty, freezing fog enveloped his once again naked body.
“Then what are you doing?” purred the deceptively velvety voice. “Besides seeking pleasures of the flesh and turning your back on your duty to me. Did I not sacrifice for you?”
“But I have been getting you the mako, on schedule, just as you have asked of me!” Vincent felt the old familiar fear turn his limbs to lead as just out of sight, a tall, powerful shadow coalesced into being. He squinted to try to make out detail, but as always he could not.
“You have,” hissed that voice. “And that has been your only saving grace. You are becoming dangerously distracted, and our empire is beginning to crumble. I will not be denied this, Vincent.”
“I have it under control,” Vincent said, and was surprised at how confident he managed to sound.
“You had better.” And suddenly there was a blinding slash of pain that brought him to knees and caused him to cry out. “Or I shall take from you all that is left of those you care for.”
Bowed under the heavy weight of that pain and scrutiny, Vincent could only whimper.
“You know I speak the truth, and you know I have the power. They move against you even now, and you will be powerless to stop them.”
“I’ll fight you,” Vincent gasped, digging his fingers into the frozen ground. “I’ll not go down without a fight.”
”And I shall look forward to it,” the voice growled. “But until then, fulfill your duty to me.”
“Yes.” And then there was nothing.
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Sleep had again quickly chosen to abandon Cid as he stood on its brink. This time, Vincent had begun some mild thrashing in his sleep, enough to disturb Cid but not to worry him. The worry came when he heard a small, defeated sound that told Cid that Vincent was having some kind of intense dream, most likely a nightmare by the sound of it. All Cid could do was hold him tighter, and he did. Vincent had, by some combination of Cid’s squirming and his own, turned to face Cid, and that made it all the easier for Cid to hold him close and drape one of his legs over Vincent’s hip. “You just be still an’ calm down,” he said soothingly to the sleeping (and now already quite calm) man. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere an’ ain’t nobody after you. ‘Cept me, but that ain’t no reason t’be afraid. M’a good man, Vincent, when it comes t’you. Dunno why th’hell that is, but I am.” He fell asleep like that, cradling Vincent with his body, and had never been more comfortable in his life.
A fist to his jaw was what first jarred Vincent toward the world of wakefulness, but it was the knee quite firmly planted in his groin that banished any sleepy haze from his brain. He sat up with a pained hiss, both hands going down to protectively cradle what felt like very bruised testicles. Blinking dazedly, it took him a minute to realize that he was very much not in his own bed…nor was he alone in the borrowed one either. He looked next to him and saw the cop, belly down and drooling on his pillow even while he snored quite loudly, and wedged in between them was Marlene, who even now was reaching for his hair again. It had been cute before…and then she had kneed him in the balls. Redirecting the imp so that she latched on to Highwind’s arm and shirt instead of any of his now quite sensitive appendages, he slid out of bed and tried to stand up.
“Owie!” he muttered softly as his jewels throbbed in time to his heartbeat. “May your husband be a eunuch so that he may never feel the wrath of your knee.” He directed at the sleeping Marlene and stumbled out toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. He distinctly remembered going to bed alone, and the fact that he woke up with not one, but two people in bed with him…and one a grown man, no less…unsettled him somewhat, so he figured if Highwind could sleep on the couch then so the hell could he. After all, he had been forced to sleep on much worse in the past. He didn’t even want to know what his suit looked like, but he figured it was pretty much a lost cause. Finishing off a small glass of water, he limped over to lie down on the couch, grabbing his coat as he did so, and glancing at the clock over the television. It had only been four hours! He groaned and turned to face into the cushions that would normally have been at his back, punching the lumpy pillow under his head and using his coat as a blanket. His last thought before falling once again into slumber was that his neck was going to hurt like hell when he woke up again.
Cid had not woken when Vincent had left the bed, nor had he woken when Marlene had snuggled against him. Clearly she was a much more docile sleeper after the first hour; she calmed almost immediately after Cid turned in his sleep away from hands that were much too small to be any comfort. In fact, he did not wake until well into morning, and that was only because a teary Marlene announced very loudly that she wanted her mommy now and didn’t want to stay with the smelly man and the story man anymore, even if they were nice. He lifted her sobbing form into his arms and carried her into the living room. After setting her in the big chair, he knelt down and did his best to console her, assuring her that Elena would be back soon and they could go home. Denzel was nowhere to be seen, and that quickly became Marlene’s next topic of worry. Upon inspection of the guest room, the boy was found to be sleeping soundly, and Cid did not wake him yet. Instead, he fixed some breakfast for Marlene and went in search of Vincent. He was not in either of the beds or on the couch, and the only sign that he had not left was the fact that his shoes were still near the coat rack. Finally thinking to check the guest bathroom, Cid noted that water was running and steam was coming from under the door. Just to check, he knocked and called, “Vincent? That you in there?”
“No, it’s the water deciding to come on by itself. Yes, it’s me.” Vincent called irritably, rubbing the back of his neck. He was right. His neck hurt, his back hurt, his head hurt…hell, everything hurt. He stood under the hot water and tried to relax muscles that were wound so tightly that he was surprised that he could even still move them. Vincent groaned and leaned his pounding head against the cooler tiles of the wall, eyelid twitching in time with his pulse. They seriously needed to revise their terms of this arrangement before it crippled him. It had actually been the headache that had woken him and made him go on a quest for painkillers. He had finally found them in the bathroom. While he was there, he had decided to take a shower and see if the hot water would help his back. It did, but only to an extent. When the water finally began to run cool, he turned it off and stepped out of shower, feeling only a little bit better. At least his headache was beginning to fade.
He had been panicked at first when he woke up, and it occurred to him that he hadn’t called Tseng to let him know where he was, but his intelligence had put a screeching halt to that train of thought when he realized that his second had not come breaking down the door to find him, which meant that Cid must have called him. As it was, it was more than time for him to leave now. He thoroughly dried off and slowly began to redress himself, wincing in pain as he saw the rumpled condition of his suit. Once done, he exited the bathroom and made his way to the kitchen in search of coffee and Cid. However, he froze in the doorway when he saw the cop’s face. “What is it?” he asked suspiciously.
“She still ain’t back, Vincent. I dunno what t’think anymore, an’ Marlene…she needs ‘er momma, Vincent, an’ I don’t know what t’do for ‘er.” He glanced back Marlene, who was idly playing with her dolls in the living room while not so inconspicuously listening to the men talking. Cid pitched his voice lower and continued, “I think we oughta go look for ‘er. Would you help me with that? I know it ain’t really your problem, but…those kids, Vincent, they look up to ya fer no good reason. Give ‘em a reason.”
Vincent sighed, just shy of exasperated. “Mr. Highwind, that is not my job, so do not take the noble route with me. I could care less about domestic disturbances. She is probably with some boyfriend, and just forgot to come home. It happens. Besides isn’t that what you people are supposed to do?” He walked past the cop to lean against the countertop, cross his arms over his chest and pin Cid with a flat, less-than-amused stare.
Cid crossed his arms right back and gave an equally determined stare. “She wouldn’t do that, Vincent. She just wouldn’t. She’s a good girl, an’ I think you know that. Somethin’s wrong, that much is fer sure. And ‘us people,’ unfortunately, don’t respond t’kids callin’, an’ they sure as hell ain’t gonna listen t’me. No, I’d hafta do this m’self, an’ you know how hopeless I am.” He paused for a moment, stuck as to how to convince Vincent that Elena was in trouble and, more importantly, that Vincent should help Cid help her. “You’ll agree with me, even in your line o’ work, that there ain’t no excuse fer a man t’beat up on a woman, ‘specially when she ain’t done ‘im no wrong. Ain’t right, either, for ‘im t’raise a hand to ‘is kids. That’s what Miss Elena got ‘em out of on ‘er own two feet, an’ she ain’t stupid. She ain’t gonna leave those kids now, an’ she ain’t gonna walk ‘erself right back into a bad situation. She’s a respectable woman with a strong mind, an’ I ain’t gonna let you say otherwise.” Eyes locked with Vincent’s and hands coming to rest protectively on the shoulders of Marlene, who had come running as soon as “Elena” and “look for her” had been said, Cid waited for a response and prayed, for the children’s sake, that it would be a favorable one.
Vincent clenched his jaw, as a tic began. He did not enjoy being manipulated, and this was the worst kind. He was trapped into helping Cid find this woman. If he refused, which a man in his position would do if he were of a sane mind towards his better interests, he would come off as being a truly rank bastard. But dammit, Highwind knew how to play him, and fortunately for the cop that was precisely how he felt. There was absolutely no excuse for treating a woman in such a fashion, let alone innocents, and very few things pissed him off more than bullies. With a lethal stare and nearly silent snarl, he pushed his way past Highwind and over to his coat, which he had draped back over the kitchen chair. This was the worst idea possible, opening him up to not only recognition from the underbelly, but exposure of his teaming up with the authorities. He could ruin a lot of carefully constructed and tended business relationships with this incredibly stupid move on his part. He could have one of his men stand in for him, but the results would be the same, and at least this way he could control what was said and what was done, thereby minimizing the collateral damage.
Fishing out his phone, he angrily punched in Tseng’s number and hit ‘send’. Before Tseng could answer in his usual flat tone, he snapped, “I need you at Highwind’s residence, now.”
“Is everything all right, sir?” was the predicted reply.
“No, it is not. Something has come up that requires my…attention.” He spat the word, and began pacing restlessly. By this time Denzel had appeared, and was looking at them worriedly out of frightened blue eyes. With a wince, Vincent forced himself to relax, and take several deep, steadying breaths. “I need you to bring me my street clothes, do you remember them? From when we were first starting out?”
“Y-es,” came Tseng’s hesitant and wary reply.
“And a weapon. Not Cerberus; that would draw too much attention. Quicksilver, I believe, should suffice.” He hesitated. “And my gauntlet.”
“And that wouldn’t draw too much attention, sir?” Tseng asked shrewdly.
Vincent sighed. “It would, but fortunately not many people have seen it and those who have are either dead or I shall not run into them, unlike with Cerberus. And any additional protection would be beneficial.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll be there shortly.” Tseng replied, and hung up.
Turning back to Cid he said flatly, “Happy now?”
“I’ll be happy when we find ‘er.” Truly, though, Cid was happy, though his aim had been not to manipulate Vincent but to sort of direct him onto the appropriate path. Given any degree of thought, those concepts came out to be the same thing, but Cid figured that in this case, the end justified the means. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of guilt at Vincent’s attitude. “M’sorry, Vincent,” he said quietly, drawing Denzel closer to them as well and squatting to be on the kids’ level. Still looking up at Vincent, he continued, “It’s just that I know ya hate what y’ve become, y’said so yerself. The choice you gotta make now is whether y’wanna sit back an’ let it get deeper or if y’wanna counter it by doin’ things like this even if they pose a risk to ya. I wanna help ya make th’right choice.”
To the children, he said, “I’m gonna call a friend o’ mine who’ll come sit with ya. Her name’s Miss Shera, an’ she’ll take good care o’ y’all, but y’gotta be real quiet an’ behave real nice ‘cause she’s gonna have a baby soon an’ she don’t need no stress. Me an’ Vincent’re gonna go look fer yer momma, ‘cause we know she wouldn’t up an’ leave y’all, seein’ as she loves ya both so much.” He met the tear-glazed eyes of each of the children and hugged them to him before standing again, hearing his knees crack as he did. “Gettin’ too old,” he said, grinning at Vincent. “I’mma make thirty in a couple weeks. How’s that fer not agin’ well, eh?”
Vincent flexed his fists so hard that his knuckles cracked. He wanted to hit Cid. He really, really wanted to hit Cid. The man had no idea what his life was like, and now he was giving him “sage” advice? He let his breath out in a huff, and walked over to the window to stare down onto the street until Tseng arrived, leaving the questioning of the children to the cop. After all, the gods forbid, he made a ‘wrong choice’ in front of the children. I want out, he thought darkly. I want away from you, from all of your whining, and self-deprecating…and why can’t you leave me alone!? What are you trying to do, Highwind, save me? Change me? If I let you fuck me, will you leave me alone? Vincent rubbed his temples agitatedly. The pain in his body only added to his foul mood, and the need to move was becoming difficult to ignore. He knew he was scaring the children, he could sense it, and the scent of their fear was tangy and cloying in his nose. Suddenly he felt dizzy, and without further word of any of them, he walked into the guest room, and shut the door behind him.
“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Cid said haltingly to the children. “He’ll calm down; he’s just a little upset. S’cause yer momma’s missin’,” he lied, “an’ he don’t know what t’do about it.” It was clear that they knew he was not telling the truth, but as he didn’t know what the problem really was, he could not do much better if he tried to be honest. Brisk knocking on the door alarmed Cid somewhat, and he went to it, only to find that both Tseng and Aerith, whom he had called a few minutes prior after learning that Shera would be unable to make it, were there, each clearly wondering what the other was doing there. “Hey there. Y’all c’mon in. Vincent’s in th’guest room. You, uh, might wanna give ‘im some space -well, I reckon y’re used to it, really. I dunno how I keep upsettin’ ‘im, it just happens, y’know? Aer, c’mon in. This’s Denzel, an’ this’s Marlene. I wish I could tell ya how long we’ll be gone, but I just ain’t got a clue.”
“All right,” Aerith said cheerily, smoothing her skirt as she sat down in Cid’s chair and picked up Marlene’s copy of the compilation of Nanaki’s adventures. Marlene tried very hard to ignore her, but as Aerith began reading aloud, she could not resist the call of a lap she could tell would feel almost like her mother’s if she sat in it. Denzel, too, was calmed somewhat by the gentle, feminine voice that was not unlike Elena’s, and he sat on the ground near the foot of the chair and listened to Aerith reading the tales from the storybook as Marlene clambered clumsily into their “babysitter’s” lap.
Cid stood awkwardly by and watched the scene, seeing that here, too, he failed where others succeeded. As of yet, the only role he had ever filled successfully was that of the fool, and he was tired of playing it.
Tseng stood a moment, and watched Aerith sitting with the children, still somewhat startled that this young woman, with the biggest, greenest eyes he had ever seen, had ended up in the same place as he. She had been cheerful and warm when he’d held the door for her upon entering the foyer of the apartment building, and then had held the second set of doors open for him with a smile and a giggle. It had been quite a fetching giggle too, one that had shivered up and down his spine and actually made him smile. Then they had walked up the stairs together and he had listened, entranced while she had chattered away, and he had learned that she had a secret passion for botany…flowers in particular. She hadn’t asked what he did for a living, and he was grateful for that, thinking that it would have spoiled the moment if he had revealed what he did on a regular basis. It was the strangest thing; the fact that Aerith was a friend of Highwind did not bother him in the slightest, like it should have. Likewise, he found it strange that he just wanted to sit with Aerith and listen to her talk. She calmed him in a way that nothing else had before, and made him forget who he was.
Shaking his head as though snapping from a trance, Tseng hefted the large duffel in his hand, and headed for the closed door just off of the living room. He could practically feel Vincent seething behind it. He knocked once upon the door and entered, sighing as he watched Vincent pacing in front of the window, the Aerith-induced calm floating away like petals on the wind. “What has you so uptight?”
Vincent just shot him a glare.
“You know,” Tseng said, setting the duffel down onto the bed, “you really need to relax, Vincent. I know the cop is insufferable, but try to cut him some slack. He appears to genuinely care for you.”
“He is an idiot! And all he does is whine, Tseng. You know how I feel about whining.” Vincent said, coming to a stop and crossing his arms over his chest.
Tseng winced. Unfortunately, he did. “So where are you two headed off to? I don’t think I need to tell you how inappropriate this move is.”
“No, you do not,” Vincent said curtly, going over to the bed and rummaging around in the duffel. Slowly he began to strip: first his rumpled shirt, then his slacks. He took out his leather pants and held them up, wincing as he thought about cramming his silk boxers into them.
Tseng chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest to lean back against the door. “I took the liberty to include undergarments more appropriate for those pants, sir.”
“Ah,” Vincent said, as he found them. He quickly dropped his boxers and slid on the alternative, wincing at how restrictive they were, and taking a moment to situate himself more comfortably within them. Next he pulled out the dove gray shirt and put it on, loving the feel of the less elegant, but no less soft, fabric upon his skin. Following that, he slid on his soft leather pants, and was actually rather amazed that they continued to fit so well, clinging to his long legs like a second skin. It really had been too long since he’d worn them. He tucked in his shirt, then buttoned his pants and did up the belt, topping off the ensemble with a black leather vest.
“So where are you going, sir?” Tseng asked again, leveling a harsh stare upon his friend.
“Hunting,” Vincent sighed as he pulled a fingerless black glove onto his right hand and full-length one onto his left. “The children out there seem to have lost their mother, and I am going to help Mr. Highwind find her.”
“Uh, correct me if I am wrong, sir, but isn’t that what the authorities are supposed to do?” Tseng asked, a little dumbfounded.
“And when have the authorities been competent at anything lately, Tseng?” Vincent retorted, lowering his sleeve, and buttoning the cuff, before fishing out his gauntlet and sliding it over the glove and sleeve, buckling it in place. At Tseng’s snort, Vincent said, “Exactly. Apparently, this woman extracted herself and the children from an abusive relationship and now, if I understand things correctly, she’s missing.”
Tseng growled softly, low in his throat. “A man has no right treating a woman like that, or his children, the coward.”
“I feel the same way,” Vincent said softly, looking up into his second’s black eyes. “That woman is all those children have. How can I not do this? You cannot save them all, but how could I live with myself if I turned my back when there was something I could do? Even now we may be too late.”
“Do not speak that way, Vincent,” Tseng said, pushing himself from the door and walking over to place his hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “You’ll find her, and you’ll make that bastard pay. Of that, I am certain. Is there anything you wish me or the others to do in the meantime?”
“Would you watch the children?” Vincent asked carefully.
“But Aerith is…” Tseng started, dubiously, not liking the idea of being a ‘babysitter’.
“He is out there, and he may come for the children. We do not know his reason behind taking the woman, assuming it was even him. So I would feel better knowing there was someone protecting them until we know for sure.”
“Understood, sir,” Tseng said, only mildly put out. Deep down, he had to admit that he would like to spend more time with Aerith.
“Thank you.” Vincent sighed, sitting down on the bed, and putting on his heavy biker boots. That done, he stood up and faced Tseng as he checked Quicksilver’s condition, popping the clip to check the ammunition, the slapping it back into place, and tucking it into the waistband of his pants in back, under his vest. “Well?”
“It’s been a while, sir, but that look still certainly suits you.” Tseng replied in approval. “Have you calmed down now?”
“Yes.” Vincent said. “Now let us get this thing moving.” And after Vincent carefully folded his rumpled suit and placed it into the duffel, he opened the bedroom door, and he and Tseng exited it to face the cop and worried children.
Cid looked up when the door opened and swallowed at the sight of Vincent. For some reason, this look made him all the more alluring. Cid had an almost unbearable urge to tackle him and pin him to the floor in front of the kids and everyone. He also had to clear his throat before he could speak, but when he did speak, he asked Denzel, “D’you know where yer momma went, kid? She didn’t tell me ‘cept that she was goin’ t’settle somethin’ with yer daddy. Y’know ‘is name?”
Denzel nodded and answered, “We only ever knew ‘im as Spike. He lives down by my old school, the one they tore down last year, but I don’t know if that’s where she went. Aerith?” he asked, looking up at her.
“Hm?” Aerith responded, pausing in her reading and turning to regard Denzel with big green eyes.
“I’m scared.”
“Oh, honey, it’ll be okay,” she said, reaching over to ruffle his hair and smiling at his blush. “Here, we’ll go sit on the couch so you can both sit with me, and you’ll feel better then.” Lifting Marlene in surprisingly strong arms, she moved to the couch and set the girl on her left while patting the cushion on her right to indicate that Denzel should sit there. He did so eagerly, then remembered that he was supposed to be acting the dignified big brother and sobered quickly, pretending he had been cool and collected the entire time. Aerith giggled again and smiled at Tseng, whom she found to be quite handsome. He had a nice face and a nice figure, but above all his eyes and his manner captured her. She knew who he was, of course, and what he did; how long had she known? For as long as Cid had been following Vincent for work purposes, at least, and that was years. Still, he managed to be a gentleman -or at least act like one- for her, and she hadn’t been able to help returning the favor. She, too, had killed and tortured and done things similar to what she knew Tseng to be involved with. His eyes spoke of great compassion hidden within the indifference, and a wisdom she could admire, being an intellectual herself. His quiet strength was almost as subtle as her own, but she doubted he had come across his in any way but the natural. She took a moment to rue the circumstances that had made her who she was; without them, she probably would have been the woman Tseng was likely imagining her to be.
Every time he felt he’d made some progress, Vincent would find something else to be upset about, and Cid could not convince himself that it was denial that drove the other man to do that. He moved around to the couch to kiss Marlene, Aerith, and Denzel each on the cheek, ignoring their giggles and protests and “ewww, Cid, you’re gross!” statements as he said, “Y’all take care. I’ll be back.” To amuse the children, he said, “Whoops, I missed one,” and, grinning, he approached Tseng to do the same.
Looking mildly alarmed and slightly panicked, Tseng took a step back at Cid’s approach, until he caught Vincent’s raised eyebrow and amused grin. He hadn’t seen that expression on Vincent’s face for well over ten years, and it pained him at how much he had missed it. So the stoic, proud Wutaian held his ground, screwed up his face as though tasting something sour, and endured the humility for his friend, as the cop gave him a quick, dry peck on the cheek. He was rewarded by another one of Aerith’s precious giggles with the added bonus of two squeals of laughter from both children, and a rumbling chuckle from Vincent. That had made it all worth it.
Watching the interaction between Denzel and Aerith had made Vincent cringe inwardly, ashamed at his earlier behavior. Smile fading from his lips, he walked over now, and crouched down in front of Denzel after first nodding respectfully to Aerith. He lightly touched the boy’s knee, and was glad to see that Denzel did not pull back. “Look at me, son.” When frightened blue eyes met red, Vincent said softly, “We are going to find your mother. I promise. But I need you to be brave for your sister. Can you do that for me?” Denzel nodded, biting his lower lip, and Vincent reached up, first brushing the backs of fingers over Denzel’s cheek before gently pinching the boy’s chin between thumb and forefinger. He smiled. “Good,” he said approvingly.
He pulled back, but before he could get to his feet, Denzel flung himself off the couch and into Vincent’s startled arms with a tiny, nearly indiscernible sob. “Thank you, Mr. Valentine.” Vincent hesitated a moment before he wrapped his arms around the boy, as Denzel clung to his neck. Burying his face in the soft sandy hair he whispered, “Vincent. Please, call me Vincent.” He tightened his hold a moment before gently removing the boy’s thin arms and easing back. He smiled again. “And you are welcome.”
Tseng watched the whole display between child and man with sorrow. You should have been a father, my friend. Life is too cruel that he was taken from you. Leviathan knows I would trade my life for his in a heartbeat. He looked over at Aerith, and saw that her too-green eyes were suspiciously shiny. He then glanced over at the cop and saw such heartbreak upon the man’s face that Tseng knew Highwind wasn’t entirely reacting to the child’s plight, but that he actually did appear to love Vincent. “You two need to get going. Each moment you waste here is too precious to lose. I will stay with Ms. Gainsborough and the children until you both return.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Cid said, tipping an imaginary hat in Tseng’s direction and turning to face the door.
He stepped toward it, but before he could open it for Vincent, Marlene’s tiny, yet surprisingly shrill voice commanding him to: “Wait! Kiss Vincent too!”
Cid stopped and fought with his face for a moment, fighting it back into a smile before turning to face her. “But honey, Vincent’s comin’ with me, so I don’t hafta kiss ‘im.”
“But you do!” Marlene argued. “’Cause if you don’t, maybe he’ll think you don’t love him as much as you love us and he’ll feel left out. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” she asked earnestly, using her eyes to make Cid feel obligated to obey her.
He sighed and answered, “No, I sure wouldn’t want ‘im t’think that,” while looking meaningfully at Vincent. He would not, in front of an audience, kiss Vincent any more soundly than he had kissed Tseng, but Vincent would know, and the other adults likely would as well. “Guess y’re right, honey. He needs some kissin’ too, huh?” Cid grinned widely again, affecting a glee he did not feel, and walked over to Vincent. He had to fumble for composure again in order to make himself behave as he brushed hair away from Vincent’s cheek and kissed that cheek, and he could tell by the silence in the room that he held his lips there a moment too long.
Vincent stood frozen to the spot as Cid kissed him. A plethora of feelings warred for dominance in his mind: nervousness, revulsion, fear, anxiety, hopelessness, desire, rejection, yearning…and something else, something nameless, all fought each other and held him stiff and immobile. When Cid pulled pack, he helped the cop along, and put him firmly at arm’s length from him and said in a forced voice, “There, see? I do not feel left out now.” He turned to Tseng. “I need the…” and his reflexes snapped his hand up in time to catch the car keys that Tseng zinged at his head. “Thanks,” he muttered.
“You’re welcome,” Tseng replied, leveling a look at him that spoke volumes, and promised a heart-to-heart in the near future, which had Vincent visibly cringing.
“Shall we, then, Mr. Highwind?” he said, walking to the door and holding it open for the cop who quickly slid by him. He looked back at the four sitting on the couch, watching them. “This will be resolved quickly. I have my phone; I’ll call you if I need you,” he said to Tseng, and got a nod in response. Then he was out the door and following the cop down the stairs.