Midgar Burning - Chapter 42
Hello all! Has anyone else noticed how quickly time can get away from you, or is it just me? Another chapter, and way late in its posting, so my deepest apologies for those tiny few still reading it. I'd plead Real Life, but every time I do that now I feel like I'm reaching for excuses... but the truth is the truth regardless of how contrived and/or redundant it might sound. But this time, instead of my cat, it's my horse eating away at what time I have left after work before exhaustion drops me in my tracks. So for the few of you still with us: We love you, and we're so grateful for your patientce and wonderful words of encouragement and support through it all! <3 Cal
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*, and where they are not then they belong to their respective writers, producers, directors, or other individuals/companies listed under that sneaky little thing called a "copyright".
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! Icon art provided by silk_weaver.
A/N Addendum from Cal: Also, this fic is going to show Vincent's extreme emotional instability brought about by his past, his trauma experienced with Rufus and the life that he currently leads. And while the 'plot' is, and shall remain, near and dear to us, and we shall attempt to continue doing it justice, it's primarily a story about how Cid fights to save Vincent's soul, and their struggles trying to initiate and maintain a relationship in their hellish world. So be prepared for what canon buffs would call "OOC" behavior on Vincent's part, and probably on Cid's as well at times. I strove to remain as completely loyal to Vincent's core character as I could, while exercising creative rights to expound and develop said character. He's going to be all over the place folks, and confused as hell on top of that, as one would expect from a character suffering from posttraumatic stress, so get ready for it.
Chapter 42
Cid left the room, only to find that the others had gone without him, even Aerith. He felt distinctly alone, the knowledge that Vincent would have waited for him heavy in his mind. With a sigh, he tucked the stuffed bandersnatch under his arm and began walking home. It was a fairly long walk, but it helped to clear his mind. There was guilt to spare in said mind; he had hogged Vincent to himself when the rest of his men should have been allowed the chance to see him, he had given up hope for a while, and now, worst of all, he found that he was not worried. He should be worrying, should be nearly panicking, but he had somehow settled for a sense of calm.
Twenty-five minutes later, he trudged up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. Upon arriving at his floor, Cid was shocked to see someone standing outside his apartment. Someone familiar. It hit him then that this was probably not a social call, and that he probably wanted nothing to do with it and definitely had no choice in the matter. “What?” he asked irritably, hoping hopelessly that it had nothing to do with Vincent.
Lieutenant Zack Fair of the Midgar Police Department pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on next to Cid’s ‘new’ front door with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “Evenin’ Cid,” he said with a jerk of his chin. “How are ya?”
“Exhausted,” Cid said shortly, and dug for the key. He found it, unlocked the door, pushed it open, and sighed. “C’mon in. Make yerself at home.”
“Thanks buddy,” Zack said, following Cid into his apartment. Looking around he gave a low whistle. “Nice digs, man, unemployment must be payin’ pretty well, huh?” He walked over to the kitchen table after taking an indulgent, intrusive moment to open a couple of cabinets to examine the contents, hooked a foot behind a chair leg and pulled it underneath him so he could sit in it backwards. Propping his crossed arms on the back of the chair he eyed Cid Highwind, formerly of the Midgar Police Department. “Why might that be, I wonder. Not out chasing ambulances are ya?”
Cid thought quickly about how to explain the apartment. He had nothing, so he made a feeble attempt at evading the question. “Hey, I know how t’save, that’s all. Somethin’ t’drink?” he asked grudgingly, noting with glee that Zack was sitting in a chair that neither he nor Vincent had ever used. “What brings y’out here, anyway? Scarlet want me dragged back so she c’n get off watchin’ Wallace break th’rest o’ my ribs?”
Zack narrowed his startlingly brilliant blue eyes before shaking his head. “Wouldn’t know anything about that; no thanks, you mind if I smoke?” he asked, reaching into his jacket pocket for his cigarettes and propping one in between his lips and holding the pack out to Cid in offer.
Cid sighed and declined with a shake of his head. He tried to keep the cigarettes outside, but this was a special occasion. “Yeah, I don’t care,” he said resignedly, and he didn’t, not about anything but whether Vincent would survive the night.
Zack shrugged and lit up, blowing a thin stream of blue smoke towards the ceiling. “Where’s yer friend?” he asked, putting the pack back into his pocket.
“Don’t have any,” Cid shot back, internally wincing at how true that might become tomorrow.
Zack nodded thoughtfully. “Then who’s that black-haired fella I’ve been seein’ you hanging around with? The real pretty one?” he asked, grinning wolfishly through a faint haze of smoke.
Cid snorted as he sat in Vincent’s chair, as if to make sure Zack didn’t change his mind and decide to claim it after all. “Don’t flatter yerself. Y’ain’t that pretty. An’ it’s been months since I been around you, anyway.”
Zack laughed. “That’s funny, Highwind! But you know as well as me that I’m not exactly your ‘type’. My hair’s too short. So why don’t you answer my question.”
“Which one? Y’already done asked more’n I c’n keep up with.” He took a deep breath, inhaling a great deal of Zack’s smoke and choking on it. “Wave that th’other way, would ya? Better yet, wave yerself on out with it an’ let me sleep,” Cid all but pouted.
“Whoa easy, Highwind! Sheesh, you’re acting as though you have somethin’ to hide.” He eyed Cid suspiciously. “I only asked ya one simple, little question, no need to get all defensive.”
Cid fixed him with an expressionless stare and made no comment.
“So you do have something to hide.” Zack said, getting a little excited. He always loved interrogating people. “What are you cookin’ up, Highwind? You and your little friend.”
“I can’t cook,” Cid deadpanned. But he can.
Narrowing his eyes, Zack stared at Cid flatly, but his tone remained light. “Not what I heard.”
“An’ what is it you heard?” Cid asked, sighing as he accidentally re-broke his glasses in his attempt to massage away his oncoming headache.
“Last time I checked I was the one askin’ questions here.” Zack grinned, propping his chin on his crossed arms after blowing a stream of smoke in Cid’s direction. “Tell ya what,” he said wriggling in his chair like an excited puppy. “Let’s play a game. I ask you a question, and if I like the answer then you can ask me one in return.”
“Not so good at games,” Cid admitted, suspicious…and suddenly very nervous. Of course his apartment was bugged. Why would he think otherwise? They should have continued going to Vincent’s place; that at least was a bit safer. But this was no time to panic, so he didn’t, and instead did his best to remain calm and collected. “M’the surest loser I ever did meet. But if that’s how y’wanna play, let’s go.” Fair, at least, would probably not get physical unless someone else got physical with him, in which case he would probably sympathize with Cid and then it wouldn’t be so bad anyway, because maybe Fair was faster and everything, but he didn’t pack as much of a punch as Wallace. Probably. But then, chances were that it wouldn’t come to that. Even if it did, it wouldn’t matter. He had to protect Vincent, especially right now. Everything else came second to that.
Zack’s grin widened as he stared intently at Cid. “Who have you been seeing?”
Cid closed his eyes and pretended to think really hard. “Lessee…the neighbors, Aerith, you…” he said, ticking off each one on his fingers, “oh! An’ that one Honeybee boy. Me an’ Corneo, we patched up that misunderstandin’ of ours, see? He reckoned he owed me a favor.”
Zack laughed again. “Y’know, I’m really gonna miss you around the station, Highwind! I’ll bet you really pissed that bitch Scarlet right off! But ya see, here’s the thing: I’m not tired, I don’t have anywhere else to be tonight and this is official business. So I’m gonna keep my happy ass sat right here in this chair until you start telling me what I want to hear. And I ain’t lettin’ you go until you do either. We can do this here, in your nice, comfy new apartment, or we can do it down at the station where I'll bet lots of other people are gonna love seeing you again, including your friend Wallace, I'm sure. Now, let’s try again, shall we?”
It was Cid’s turn to laugh, though his was humorless. Well, they won’t kill me so long as they think I know somethin’, an’ I been beat up b’fore. I’ll live, he thought, an’ somethin’ tells me he won’t really bring me down there anyway. “You might be waitin’ a while, then, ‘cause I am tired, I ain’t on official business, an’ I do have somewhere else t’be- my bed. I’m gonna give you another…” he paused and pretended to check his watch for the time, “fifteen minutes, an’ then I’m goin’ t’bed. You c’n follow me there if y’like,” he finished, waggling his eyebrows.
Zack nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, you do kinda look like warmed-over shit. I tell ya what. How ‘bout we skip the game and lemme tell ya what I think went down.” He reached over and ashed onto the empty plate that sat on the table. He took a long drag, held it then let it drift slowly from his mouth and nose. “I think my Valentine was fuckin’ ol’ Shinra, that’s what I think, ‘cause ya know he was way too friggin pretty t’ be straight, right? A fast little back-office fuck or two when Shinra wasn’t sending him out on little gopher runs.” He accentuated it with a couple of hip thrusts. “But then, see, Princess gets tired of Rufus, and he finds himself another little boy-toy to play sit ‘n’ spin with on the side, maybe this new pet’s doing something for him, gettin’ him something or being his mule, I haven’t quite figured that one out yet.” Zack resituated himself on the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him with a grunt, ashing on the plate again and taking another drag. “But then the wife finds out his lover’s been cheatin’ on him, I’m thinkin’ maybe one of his little lap-dogs squealed, and gets it into head that if he can’t have Princess then nobody can, and…” he leveled his fingers in the shape of a gun at Cid, sighted down the “barrel”, and made a little “pghuuu” sound. “…puts a bullet into his pretty bastard’s heart.” Zack cocked his head at Cid thoughtfully. “Now the part that’s been givin’ me the shits is this: if Rufus popped Valentine, and he did a real number from what I heard, and ol’ Val didn’t have a weapon…who killed the wife?” he wondered aloud, holding his arms out theatrically. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back smugly, blue eyes narrowed as he regarded Cid’s pale face. “I think boy-toy followed Princess home, shot the wife and scrammed outta there before the dogs came running, that’s what I think. Wanna know how I came to this conclusion?” Zack paused for a heartbeat before continuing without letting Cid answer. “I thought so: now, unlike you, I do have friends and several of ‘em are lab-geeks. Those lab-geeks are really, really good at their job. Now the body couldn’t be examined, but his clothes could be and guess what they found in Princess’s panties? Yep, you guessed it: semen, and we’re not talking sailors either here partner, we’re talking the real stuff here: jizz, cum, squirt, whatever th’ hell you wanna call it. But you wanna know what makes it really cherry? They found some blond hairs, short blond hairs and they didn’t match the wife’s. I’m bettin’ the semen won’t either. Which leads me to this: you wanna tell me what you were doin’ last night, Chief? And I’m gonna need you to give us some samples. Probable cause and whatnot, y’know.” Zack finished a little snidely.
Cid just nodded. He hadn’t even considered that he might be suspected for having killed Rufus. Actually, he hadn’t even heard -or maybe he had heard, and just hadn’t processed- that Shinra was dead at all. “I’ll be c’mpletely honest with ya, then. Last night, I was here, alone, and no, I don’t reckon I c’n prove that. But I gave up my gun the last time I left th’station, an’ that’s the only gun I’ve ever held outside o’ designated trainin’ areas. Hell, I don’t even know how t’get t’the damned ShinRa tower. Y’think they wouldn’t’a noticed if they’d been followed? They’re trained fer that shit.” Never mind that Vincent hadn’t noticed Raven that one time. “An’ you know personally I’m too much a clutz t’pull that off. Not t’mention I wouldn’t’ve killed ‘im if ‘e’d begged me. That ain’t my place.” Cid paused a moment and then said, “You saw me at th’Wutai place. That was th’last time I left here until a couple hours ago.” He sighed and placed his head on the table. “What do I hafta do t’get you off m’back?”
Zack regarded Cid’s weary form. He shook his head sadly. “You are honest, but not entirely truthful. I know you’re having sex with Valentine, and you’d better hope I’m the only one who knows that part. I’ve seen you shoot in the training area, Chief, when you thought no one was watchin’ ya. You can pull something like that off, and who’s to say that they didn’t give you a ride back to the Tower, or let themselves be ‘followed’. You have probable cause to want Rufus dead, and you have absolutely no alibi that can be confirmed.” He snuffed his cigarette out and leaned forward. “Ballistics tested your issued sidearm as soon as the lab results on the hair came back and it didn’t have any gunpowder residue, which means it wasn’t the weapon that was used to kill ShinRa, so that corroborates that part of your story. But, Chief, look at the men you’re hangin’ out with, they sleep, eat and shit with guns, you could have used one of theirs.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, puffing his cheeks out as he exhaled. “Believe it or not, I’m not your enemy here. You were a crappy cop, but you were a straight crappy cop and that’s workin’ in your favor. I’ll need you to come into the station so our docs can take those samples, just…just don’t leave town until then, all right?”
Lifting his head from the table, Cid sighed and responded, “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. The ones who run are the ones what got somethin’ t’hide, an’ besides, I ain’t got nowhere to go. Nope, I’ll be right here, mindin’ my own business an’ waitin’ fer y’all t’decide t’leave me th’hell alone.” He was sure his eyes showed everything he was feeling; he was far too tired to try to keep his emotions in check, and the weariness and sadness and worry were too strong to hold back even at the best of times.
Zack felt like beating his head against a nice brick wall. Didn’t Cid realize that his very lack of reaction was damning? That he was just pinning a huge bulls-eye in the middle of his back for the nearest green attorney to target practice with and land the career of a lifetime? He looked at Cid in exasperation, “Don’t you care? You’re the number one suspect in a murder investigation! The hottest murder investigation in this city in fifteen years!”
“Should I care? Should I make myself out t’be a victim, wrongly accused and harassed until th’real killer’s found? Or should I try t’run an’ get caught, make m’self look guilty so I get more attention? No, I don’t think that’s the answer. I don’t like this, an’ I’m gonna stay as far away from it as I can. That includes gettin’ all worked up about it. B’sides,” he said, sighing, “there’s only one thing I care about t’night, an’ you know full well what that is. The rest c’n fuck itself fer all I care. I don’t give a shit ‘whodunit.’ It’s done, ain’t it? This is why I sucked as a cop, see?” Cid said, smile as empty and dry as his words. “I just don’t see th’point sometimes.”
Zack snickered. “Man you do have some fucked up logic, but strangely I can follow it.” He stood and resituated his coat. “I’ve said my piece, Chief. Just stick around and come in t’ give those samples. And if I were you? Even with the fucked up logic, I’d start carin’, because if the right DA gets hold of this case, not even your fancy, rich Princess can bail you out and you’ll be separated. If you care about him as much as I think you do? I’d be gettin’ on that.” He walked to the door, opened it and paused, looking back at Cid still at the table. “Cid? Lock your door, there’re monsters out here.” With a little two-fingered salute, he let himself out.
Cid tried to find it in him to take Zack’s words a little more seriously, but now that the distraction was gone, Vincent was the only thing on his mind. Everything in this place, it seemed, had some connection to Vincent now. After taking at least the practical part of the advice and locking his door, Cid moved to the recliner and closed his eyes. It had all been less than three days ago! If he tried hard enough, he thought he could still smell the way Vincent had smelled after getting out of the shower, still hear him laughing and feel his hands….these were things, Cid reminded himself, that he would smell and hear and feel again. Vincent would be all right. It would take time, but he would be.
He loves me, he thought proudly, still dimly amazed that someone like Vincent would so much as look at him twice. He didn’t go to bed, but instead slept in the chair. At least he wouldn’t get too comfortable there.
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*, and where they are not then they belong to their respective writers, producers, directors, or other individuals/companies listed under that sneaky little thing called a "copyright".
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! Icon art provided by silk_weaver.
A/N Addendum from Cal: Also, this fic is going to show Vincent's extreme emotional instability brought about by his past, his trauma experienced with Rufus and the life that he currently leads. And while the 'plot' is, and shall remain, near and dear to us, and we shall attempt to continue doing it justice, it's primarily a story about how Cid fights to save Vincent's soul, and their struggles trying to initiate and maintain a relationship in their hellish world. So be prepared for what canon buffs would call "OOC" behavior on Vincent's part, and probably on Cid's as well at times. I strove to remain as completely loyal to Vincent's core character as I could, while exercising creative rights to expound and develop said character. He's going to be all over the place folks, and confused as hell on top of that, as one would expect from a character suffering from posttraumatic stress, so get ready for it.
Chapter 42
Cid left the room, only to find that the others had gone without him, even Aerith. He felt distinctly alone, the knowledge that Vincent would have waited for him heavy in his mind. With a sigh, he tucked the stuffed bandersnatch under his arm and began walking home. It was a fairly long walk, but it helped to clear his mind. There was guilt to spare in said mind; he had hogged Vincent to himself when the rest of his men should have been allowed the chance to see him, he had given up hope for a while, and now, worst of all, he found that he was not worried. He should be worrying, should be nearly panicking, but he had somehow settled for a sense of calm.
Twenty-five minutes later, he trudged up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. Upon arriving at his floor, Cid was shocked to see someone standing outside his apartment. Someone familiar. It hit him then that this was probably not a social call, and that he probably wanted nothing to do with it and definitely had no choice in the matter. “What?” he asked irritably, hoping hopelessly that it had nothing to do with Vincent.
Lieutenant Zack Fair of the Midgar Police Department pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on next to Cid’s ‘new’ front door with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “Evenin’ Cid,” he said with a jerk of his chin. “How are ya?”
“Exhausted,” Cid said shortly, and dug for the key. He found it, unlocked the door, pushed it open, and sighed. “C’mon in. Make yerself at home.”
“Thanks buddy,” Zack said, following Cid into his apartment. Looking around he gave a low whistle. “Nice digs, man, unemployment must be payin’ pretty well, huh?” He walked over to the kitchen table after taking an indulgent, intrusive moment to open a couple of cabinets to examine the contents, hooked a foot behind a chair leg and pulled it underneath him so he could sit in it backwards. Propping his crossed arms on the back of the chair he eyed Cid Highwind, formerly of the Midgar Police Department. “Why might that be, I wonder. Not out chasing ambulances are ya?”
Cid thought quickly about how to explain the apartment. He had nothing, so he made a feeble attempt at evading the question. “Hey, I know how t’save, that’s all. Somethin’ t’drink?” he asked grudgingly, noting with glee that Zack was sitting in a chair that neither he nor Vincent had ever used. “What brings y’out here, anyway? Scarlet want me dragged back so she c’n get off watchin’ Wallace break th’rest o’ my ribs?”
Zack narrowed his startlingly brilliant blue eyes before shaking his head. “Wouldn’t know anything about that; no thanks, you mind if I smoke?” he asked, reaching into his jacket pocket for his cigarettes and propping one in between his lips and holding the pack out to Cid in offer.
Cid sighed and declined with a shake of his head. He tried to keep the cigarettes outside, but this was a special occasion. “Yeah, I don’t care,” he said resignedly, and he didn’t, not about anything but whether Vincent would survive the night.
Zack shrugged and lit up, blowing a thin stream of blue smoke towards the ceiling. “Where’s yer friend?” he asked, putting the pack back into his pocket.
“Don’t have any,” Cid shot back, internally wincing at how true that might become tomorrow.
Zack nodded thoughtfully. “Then who’s that black-haired fella I’ve been seein’ you hanging around with? The real pretty one?” he asked, grinning wolfishly through a faint haze of smoke.
Cid snorted as he sat in Vincent’s chair, as if to make sure Zack didn’t change his mind and decide to claim it after all. “Don’t flatter yerself. Y’ain’t that pretty. An’ it’s been months since I been around you, anyway.”
Zack laughed. “That’s funny, Highwind! But you know as well as me that I’m not exactly your ‘type’. My hair’s too short. So why don’t you answer my question.”
“Which one? Y’already done asked more’n I c’n keep up with.” He took a deep breath, inhaling a great deal of Zack’s smoke and choking on it. “Wave that th’other way, would ya? Better yet, wave yerself on out with it an’ let me sleep,” Cid all but pouted.
“Whoa easy, Highwind! Sheesh, you’re acting as though you have somethin’ to hide.” He eyed Cid suspiciously. “I only asked ya one simple, little question, no need to get all defensive.”
Cid fixed him with an expressionless stare and made no comment.
“So you do have something to hide.” Zack said, getting a little excited. He always loved interrogating people. “What are you cookin’ up, Highwind? You and your little friend.”
“I can’t cook,” Cid deadpanned. But he can.
Narrowing his eyes, Zack stared at Cid flatly, but his tone remained light. “Not what I heard.”
“An’ what is it you heard?” Cid asked, sighing as he accidentally re-broke his glasses in his attempt to massage away his oncoming headache.
“Last time I checked I was the one askin’ questions here.” Zack grinned, propping his chin on his crossed arms after blowing a stream of smoke in Cid’s direction. “Tell ya what,” he said wriggling in his chair like an excited puppy. “Let’s play a game. I ask you a question, and if I like the answer then you can ask me one in return.”
“Not so good at games,” Cid admitted, suspicious…and suddenly very nervous. Of course his apartment was bugged. Why would he think otherwise? They should have continued going to Vincent’s place; that at least was a bit safer. But this was no time to panic, so he didn’t, and instead did his best to remain calm and collected. “M’the surest loser I ever did meet. But if that’s how y’wanna play, let’s go.” Fair, at least, would probably not get physical unless someone else got physical with him, in which case he would probably sympathize with Cid and then it wouldn’t be so bad anyway, because maybe Fair was faster and everything, but he didn’t pack as much of a punch as Wallace. Probably. But then, chances were that it wouldn’t come to that. Even if it did, it wouldn’t matter. He had to protect Vincent, especially right now. Everything else came second to that.
Zack’s grin widened as he stared intently at Cid. “Who have you been seeing?”
Cid closed his eyes and pretended to think really hard. “Lessee…the neighbors, Aerith, you…” he said, ticking off each one on his fingers, “oh! An’ that one Honeybee boy. Me an’ Corneo, we patched up that misunderstandin’ of ours, see? He reckoned he owed me a favor.”
Zack laughed again. “Y’know, I’m really gonna miss you around the station, Highwind! I’ll bet you really pissed that bitch Scarlet right off! But ya see, here’s the thing: I’m not tired, I don’t have anywhere else to be tonight and this is official business. So I’m gonna keep my happy ass sat right here in this chair until you start telling me what I want to hear. And I ain’t lettin’ you go until you do either. We can do this here, in your nice, comfy new apartment, or we can do it down at the station where I'll bet lots of other people are gonna love seeing you again, including your friend Wallace, I'm sure. Now, let’s try again, shall we?”
It was Cid’s turn to laugh, though his was humorless. Well, they won’t kill me so long as they think I know somethin’, an’ I been beat up b’fore. I’ll live, he thought, an’ somethin’ tells me he won’t really bring me down there anyway. “You might be waitin’ a while, then, ‘cause I am tired, I ain’t on official business, an’ I do have somewhere else t’be- my bed. I’m gonna give you another…” he paused and pretended to check his watch for the time, “fifteen minutes, an’ then I’m goin’ t’bed. You c’n follow me there if y’like,” he finished, waggling his eyebrows.
Zack nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, you do kinda look like warmed-over shit. I tell ya what. How ‘bout we skip the game and lemme tell ya what I think went down.” He reached over and ashed onto the empty plate that sat on the table. He took a long drag, held it then let it drift slowly from his mouth and nose. “I think my Valentine was fuckin’ ol’ Shinra, that’s what I think, ‘cause ya know he was way too friggin pretty t’ be straight, right? A fast little back-office fuck or two when Shinra wasn’t sending him out on little gopher runs.” He accentuated it with a couple of hip thrusts. “But then, see, Princess gets tired of Rufus, and he finds himself another little boy-toy to play sit ‘n’ spin with on the side, maybe this new pet’s doing something for him, gettin’ him something or being his mule, I haven’t quite figured that one out yet.” Zack resituated himself on the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him with a grunt, ashing on the plate again and taking another drag. “But then the wife finds out his lover’s been cheatin’ on him, I’m thinkin’ maybe one of his little lap-dogs squealed, and gets it into head that if he can’t have Princess then nobody can, and…” he leveled his fingers in the shape of a gun at Cid, sighted down the “barrel”, and made a little “pghuuu” sound. “…puts a bullet into his pretty bastard’s heart.” Zack cocked his head at Cid thoughtfully. “Now the part that’s been givin’ me the shits is this: if Rufus popped Valentine, and he did a real number from what I heard, and ol’ Val didn’t have a weapon…who killed the wife?” he wondered aloud, holding his arms out theatrically. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back smugly, blue eyes narrowed as he regarded Cid’s pale face. “I think boy-toy followed Princess home, shot the wife and scrammed outta there before the dogs came running, that’s what I think. Wanna know how I came to this conclusion?” Zack paused for a heartbeat before continuing without letting Cid answer. “I thought so: now, unlike you, I do have friends and several of ‘em are lab-geeks. Those lab-geeks are really, really good at their job. Now the body couldn’t be examined, but his clothes could be and guess what they found in Princess’s panties? Yep, you guessed it: semen, and we’re not talking sailors either here partner, we’re talking the real stuff here: jizz, cum, squirt, whatever th’ hell you wanna call it. But you wanna know what makes it really cherry? They found some blond hairs, short blond hairs and they didn’t match the wife’s. I’m bettin’ the semen won’t either. Which leads me to this: you wanna tell me what you were doin’ last night, Chief? And I’m gonna need you to give us some samples. Probable cause and whatnot, y’know.” Zack finished a little snidely.
Cid just nodded. He hadn’t even considered that he might be suspected for having killed Rufus. Actually, he hadn’t even heard -or maybe he had heard, and just hadn’t processed- that Shinra was dead at all. “I’ll be c’mpletely honest with ya, then. Last night, I was here, alone, and no, I don’t reckon I c’n prove that. But I gave up my gun the last time I left th’station, an’ that’s the only gun I’ve ever held outside o’ designated trainin’ areas. Hell, I don’t even know how t’get t’the damned ShinRa tower. Y’think they wouldn’t’a noticed if they’d been followed? They’re trained fer that shit.” Never mind that Vincent hadn’t noticed Raven that one time. “An’ you know personally I’m too much a clutz t’pull that off. Not t’mention I wouldn’t’ve killed ‘im if ‘e’d begged me. That ain’t my place.” Cid paused a moment and then said, “You saw me at th’Wutai place. That was th’last time I left here until a couple hours ago.” He sighed and placed his head on the table. “What do I hafta do t’get you off m’back?”
Zack regarded Cid’s weary form. He shook his head sadly. “You are honest, but not entirely truthful. I know you’re having sex with Valentine, and you’d better hope I’m the only one who knows that part. I’ve seen you shoot in the training area, Chief, when you thought no one was watchin’ ya. You can pull something like that off, and who’s to say that they didn’t give you a ride back to the Tower, or let themselves be ‘followed’. You have probable cause to want Rufus dead, and you have absolutely no alibi that can be confirmed.” He snuffed his cigarette out and leaned forward. “Ballistics tested your issued sidearm as soon as the lab results on the hair came back and it didn’t have any gunpowder residue, which means it wasn’t the weapon that was used to kill ShinRa, so that corroborates that part of your story. But, Chief, look at the men you’re hangin’ out with, they sleep, eat and shit with guns, you could have used one of theirs.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, puffing his cheeks out as he exhaled. “Believe it or not, I’m not your enemy here. You were a crappy cop, but you were a straight crappy cop and that’s workin’ in your favor. I’ll need you to come into the station so our docs can take those samples, just…just don’t leave town until then, all right?”
Lifting his head from the table, Cid sighed and responded, “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. The ones who run are the ones what got somethin’ t’hide, an’ besides, I ain’t got nowhere to go. Nope, I’ll be right here, mindin’ my own business an’ waitin’ fer y’all t’decide t’leave me th’hell alone.” He was sure his eyes showed everything he was feeling; he was far too tired to try to keep his emotions in check, and the weariness and sadness and worry were too strong to hold back even at the best of times.
Zack felt like beating his head against a nice brick wall. Didn’t Cid realize that his very lack of reaction was damning? That he was just pinning a huge bulls-eye in the middle of his back for the nearest green attorney to target practice with and land the career of a lifetime? He looked at Cid in exasperation, “Don’t you care? You’re the number one suspect in a murder investigation! The hottest murder investigation in this city in fifteen years!”
“Should I care? Should I make myself out t’be a victim, wrongly accused and harassed until th’real killer’s found? Or should I try t’run an’ get caught, make m’self look guilty so I get more attention? No, I don’t think that’s the answer. I don’t like this, an’ I’m gonna stay as far away from it as I can. That includes gettin’ all worked up about it. B’sides,” he said, sighing, “there’s only one thing I care about t’night, an’ you know full well what that is. The rest c’n fuck itself fer all I care. I don’t give a shit ‘whodunit.’ It’s done, ain’t it? This is why I sucked as a cop, see?” Cid said, smile as empty and dry as his words. “I just don’t see th’point sometimes.”
Zack snickered. “Man you do have some fucked up logic, but strangely I can follow it.” He stood and resituated his coat. “I’ve said my piece, Chief. Just stick around and come in t’ give those samples. And if I were you? Even with the fucked up logic, I’d start carin’, because if the right DA gets hold of this case, not even your fancy, rich Princess can bail you out and you’ll be separated. If you care about him as much as I think you do? I’d be gettin’ on that.” He walked to the door, opened it and paused, looking back at Cid still at the table. “Cid? Lock your door, there’re monsters out here.” With a little two-fingered salute, he let himself out.
Cid tried to find it in him to take Zack’s words a little more seriously, but now that the distraction was gone, Vincent was the only thing on his mind. Everything in this place, it seemed, had some connection to Vincent now. After taking at least the practical part of the advice and locking his door, Cid moved to the recliner and closed his eyes. It had all been less than three days ago! If he tried hard enough, he thought he could still smell the way Vincent had smelled after getting out of the shower, still hear him laughing and feel his hands….these were things, Cid reminded himself, that he would smell and hear and feel again. Vincent would be all right. It would take time, but he would be.
He loves me, he thought proudly, still dimly amazed that someone like Vincent would so much as look at him twice. He didn’t go to bed, but instead slept in the chair. At least he wouldn’t get too comfortable there.