~**~
A Rose by Any Other Name
© 2003 By Nona Mae King
Inspired by Vincent Valentine,
and other characters from
Final Fantasy VII © SquareEnix
Cover design by Nona Mae King
Fantasy:
To Save A Soul
Romance:
My Fair Princess
Searching for Sara
Fan-Fiction:
Bookworms and Booya (series)
Few Words
The Reluctant Knight
In Theory
Terra (series)
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~**~
Glossary of Characters:
Natalie Long--a socially awkward professor who studied under the famous Professor Gast and considered Lucrecia her mentor. A romantic who has long fantasized of curing Vincent Valentine from the unethical experimentations performed by Professor Hojo.
Vincent Valentine-- a dark, brooding, and sardonic man whose heart was numbed by a tragic love. Approximately thirty years before, whilst working as a Turk, Vincent fell in love with the scientist Lucrecia Crescent, who saved him after he had been shot.
Tifa Lockhart-- a childhood friend of Cloud and a skilled martial artist. one of the lead members of AVALANCHE and it is she who initially convinces Cloud to join them in their rebellion against Shinra.
Cloud Strife-- a mercenary employed by the eco-terrorist organization AVALANCHE, who claimed to be a former SOLDIER 1st Class.
Red XIII, aka Nanaki-- a powerful, intelligent member of an unnamed feline-esque species with the ability to speak.
Cid Highwind-- an airship pilot and the most uncouth of the group, constantly swearing, losing his temper and smoking cigarettes. He was part of Shinra's space program and was set to be the first man in outer space.
Yuffie Kisaragi-- the daughter of the leader of Wutai, who feels her country has lost its former glory and has become a resort town. She is prone to motion sickness and obsessively steals and collects Materia.
Barret Wallace-- the former leader of the eco-terrorist group AVALANCHE, opposed to Shinra's use of Mako technology. He is also the adoptive father of Marlene, the daughter of his dead friend, Dyne.
Sephiroth-- Recognized as the most powerful SOLDIER of all time, he rose to a prominent rank in the organization at an early age. After a traumatic incident in which he learned of what he assumed to be his true origins, he left SOLDIER and civilization altogether with plans to become a god-like entity by wounding Gaia with Meteor and absorbing the entirety of the Lifestream into himself.
Professor Hojo-- the head of Shinra's "Department of Science and Research" until he resigned. a scientist specializing in experimental genetics and frequently tested his work on sentient subjects without any regard for ethics. He led the project that created Sephiroth, injecting him with Jenova cells while he was still in Lucrecia Crescent's womb. When Vincent Valentine protested the experiments, Hojo shot and mortally wounded him.
Lucrecia Crescent-- a scientist for Shinra, and Sephiroth's mother. Whilst pregnant, she allowed both herself and the fetus to be injected with Jenova cells. Vincent was later assigned as a bodyguard to her scientific team, and he subsequently fell in love with her. Lucrecia went on to conceive Hojo's child for experimental purposes
Author's Note: The following is a work of Fan-Fiction based on the world and characters from the video game Final Fantasy VII by Square-Enix. Additional information about the game and characters can be found at Wikipedia.
A Rose by Any Other Name
I
A PLEA FOR SLEEP
"Let me sleep."
Natalie sat back from the coffin with a gasp--she set her rose lips into a thin line, pushing back the shoulder-length auburn curls as her green eyes sparkled. "I don't think so, Mr. Valentine. I've been looking for you too long to turn away now."
Natalie leaned forward to give the lid a tug, startling backward when the cover flew off to smash against the bedrock wall. It dropped onto one of the other crypts. She cringed and the sharp crack of splintering wood. A man clothed in black with a red cape rose from the coffin to perform a graceful back-flip midair before remaining suspended.
"Who are you?" He stared down at her, amber eyes aglow.
Natalie gulped, again brushing tousled curls from her face as her gaze swept over his raven black hair and partially hidden but handsome face. "I'm-- My name is Natalie Long." She sat up, stomach and soul leaping with the possibility . . . "Vincent? Vincent Valentine?"
An eyebrow twitched. "Why did you wake me?"
"I . . ." Natalie cleared her throat to fight back a giddy chuckle. "I have wanted to meet you a long time." She found herself hoping she didn’t sound like a dull-witted fan-girl.
Vincent's expression didn't shift from still--almost haunted--disinterest. "Let me sleep. I must atone." With that, he completed a full somersault and disappeared into the black lacquered coffin. The lid clattered into place.
"Wait! Can we talk? I have questions!" Natalie scurried forward, clawing and tugging until the lid worked loose yet again. Again, it smacked against the wall with ferocity, though this time she jumped a bit less. When he rose from the coffin, his face belied strained irritation. "I don't mean to bother you, really, it's just . . . well . . . I wanted to ask some questions--"
"Your questions have no meaning for me. Go." Vincent withdrew.
Natalie scowled, long-fingered hands resting on slender hips. "For goodness sake." She stood and dusted off her jeans and pale-yellow, long-sleeved tee. "You could have the courtesy to allow a little more time to impress." But who was she to make a demand like that on a living legend? "Ah well. I suppose I will control my normal tenacity and irritating persistence and let you have your way. For now. However, I will introduce myself. As I said before, my name is Natalie Long. I'm a scientist. An archeologist, in practice. A lover of mysteries and challenges alike.
"As a child I loved hearing stories of buried treasure. It thrilled me to imagine I might actually solve a mystery and find a treasure, or something similar. That love grew to a fascination with histories of lost and unknown civilizations. In fact, I worked with the team that excavated Bone Village. I also participated in the cataloguing and stenciling of the Temple of the Ancients near Gongaga. Fascinating people. I truly enjoyed myself."
You do realize you are prattling like an agitated squirrel? Natalie pressed her lips into a thin line and stepped forward, as if she could distance herself from her own critical nature. She sat cross-legged in the center of the room, staring at the chipped and scarred lacquer of his coffin. "My reports and articles written on the project were popular. Selling thousands of copies, in fact."--Even if you do say so yourself?--"Maybe you have read one? In any case, they caught the eye of Shinra Corporation."
Natalie drew her knees to her chest. "That is the reason I'm here now--and no, I am not on their payroll. I never cared for fitting the corporate mold. Too stifling, and usually too many regulations to suit me. You might understand that." Wistful thinking, Nat. Aren’t you done singing your own praises in hopes he’ll take a peek? Natalie’s smile wavered.
She shook the negative aura free, her entire form shifting with the force of that action. "Sorry. Tangent. Where was I? Oh. Why I am here bothering you. Right. I am here at what people call 'Shinra Mansion' because of som
ething I discovered about a scientist who used to work for that sprawling corporation. Gene splicing, interspecies breeding, DNA alteration, and forced experimentation to name but a few. True, much of it is unprecedented and what I would label bizarre, but I didn't want to simply dismiss what I heard. I am a scientist. Research is what we do."
Silence pressed at her, smothering her usual persistence and making her shift her position to ward off the uncertainty. She cleared her throat. Why did you do this Research? the silence seemed to ask. What pulled and tugged and consumed your interest, dragging you here? What desire forces you to spend more time with the dead than the living?
Natalie cleared her throat again, standing to yet again brush the dirt and dust from her pants and hands. "Research. Yes. I guess you could say that brought me here. That's why I wanted to talk to you. To ask questions. To find answers which Shinra seemed content to hide. To do my best to find the one answer I want."
The stark, silent coffin drew her gaze, and she barely withstood the urge to pry open that lid. "It took a lot of time and effort to find where they hid you. Their files have only just been declassified, which is how I discovered Shinra had--" Natalie pressed her lips together, dragging her gaze to the grimed and scratched toes of her hardy boots. "Shinra tossed you aside as if you had no importance at all. I suppose they never did see the worth of a person. They cared only for Mako and the money made from controlling its supply.
"Now that Shinra is no longer an issue, life is more bearable, at least in part. People have rediscovered their self-respect, and that attitude is spreading like wildfire. I suppose a helping factor is Mako production being outlawed, Materia hoarding taboo." A small smile relaxed her strained countenance. "Sorry. Tangent. I have a tendency toward running after those, headlong. Horrid habit. Where was I? Ah. Questions.
"I'm planning an article on the progress the planet has made since Materia was put back into the Lifestream. I would like to interview various people in order to gather that information. Not my favorite activity, but it's for a good cause. At least it will be over soon and I can venture to the fossilized remains they discovered outside Mt. Nibel. Maybe then I can concentrate more fully on my work? I already sent word to your friends, asking they come here to Nibelheim. I wanted to check up on their plans, see what and how they're doing, and see if I could help. I also hoped I could ask . . . well . . . I hoped I could ask some questions about you, and Hojo, and the experiments."
She cleared her throat, brushing at her arms which prickled and tingled with the rising oppression of the silence. "I know. A decidedly touchy subject, and I am sorry about that. I understand if you would rather not. I simply thought you should know why I was traipsing here and there, stomping around and bothering coffins and asking annoying questions." She willed an easy smile, determination causing an internal spark. "Thank you for listening, Mr. Valentine. I do appreciate that at the very least."
Natalie made her way to the door, opening it as quietly as possible--as if to preserve his slumber--and stepping through to close it as softly behind her. Before the last inch vanished, she whispered, "I will be back, Vincent. Sleep well."
II
PICNICS FOR THE SOUL
Natalie lay in bed, arms crossed when she wasn’t picking at her pinkie fingernail. She had stared at the same pattern in the wooden roof for at least an hour in an attempt to convince herself not to venture to Shinra Mansion that morning. You were only just there, she reasoned. Do you want him to shape-shift and eat you? Which of course was ridiculous--not the shape-shift portion, but the threat of being eaten.
She squeezed her eyes tight and draped a bare arm across her face. The chill of her arm upon her flushed cheeks help rouse her. But, on the other hand, it cleared her mind for more dangerous admittances--her time in the basement relaxed her. No people. No noises, except for the calming drip of a leaky wall or the occasional creak of the roof. Even the sporadic scratching of the rats scurrying across the stone floor soothed her nerves. Natalie couldn't bear to stay away.
She rolled to her side, drawing her knees to her chest as she clutched the blankets. When she read about Vincent Valentine--Turk and glorified bully of Shinra Corporation--his misery and self-inflicted suffering mesmerized her. Well, as much as any young woman with dreams of romantic interludes. That, of course, stood as the reason for her vow of finding him. The only romantic fantasy she allowed. Everything else was school and work. The fact Vincent’s lover--Lucrecia--was the best friend of Natalie's high school science-teacher's sister served to feed the fantasy.
"And now you're on the closer side of 30 than 25," she mumbled. "You have no family, no adventure--except the one at present--and no beau waiting for your eventual return home." Wherever that might be.
Natalie tossed off the blankets and sat up, kicking her feet over the side of the bed to stare at her toes. "Nat, you are a silly woman." She released a quick breath. "Ah well. Might as well be off." She slid from the bed and navigated the piles of papers and books to the bathroom, towel in hand. Once out of the shower, she dressed in a fresh t-shirt and jeans while scolding herself for surrendering to her silly little fantasy.
"Leave me alone," she muttered.
She slipped into her jeans, struggled with her wool socks and hiking boots--scolded herself for not putting the socks on before her jeans--and then fought to restrain her damp curls into a ponytail. "Nat, think about this. Take a walk over to the excavation site past Mt. Nibel first. You have put it off, and you know you need to get yourself organized. Simply go to the basement for lunch, if you must go."
Natalie sighed and left the room. While she did allow a pause at the Shinra Mansion gate, she forced herself to continue down the trail toward Mt. Nibel. She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders as she stuffed her hands into her jean pockets.
She had always dreamed some dashing and rich history enthusiast would snatch her away to his castle, island, or wherever he called home. Other years she dreamed of marrying a love-starved soldier, convinced she could heal his heart if given the proper chance. Then, as with any hopeless romantic, there was the overwhelming desire to be swept off her feet by a super-hero type of man. The kind who chose a simple life with her instead of fame and fortune. She moaned and smacked her forehead.
There were so many fantasies . . . but the dream held closest was always that of finding Vincent. No one else seemed to care. If they had, would he still be hidden in the basement of a building no one wanted?
"And now I've found him!" Yes, but how would she persuade him from the box? Rose lips disappeared into a thin line. "I don't want to drive him further distant by visiting each day." Her chin tilted upward. "And I certainly don't want him believing I will run along as a good little girl each time he orders 'Go.' Turks respect tenacity over fluttering lashes."
She groaned, but continued doggedly toward her excavation site at Mt. Nibel. She finished a basic outline of the area, and then wrestled enough presence of mind to organize a pair of dig sites. But only an hour after leaving her room, she once again found herself at the gate of Shinra Mansion with a picnic basket in one hand and a thermos in the other.
"A picnic with a coffin?" Natalie rolled her eyes as she pushed through the gate.
She navigated her way down the cobbled walkway, through the empty entryway, up the stairs to the second story, through the room on the right wing, and into the chamber with the 'secret entrance' to the spiral staircase. She pressed on the appropriate switch to open the door, carefully descended the rickety wooden stairs, and then proceeded down the earthy hallway to the sturdy wooden door of the room where Vincent Valentine had been hidden away.
Natalie took in a deep breath as she reached out to open the door. The rusted, rotten, and rickety door which represented Shinra's disdain for the value of a human life. It creaked open. She slipped inside and pressed the door closed, leaning against the rough surface before pushing herself forward. His coffin remained tightly aloof, and Natalie decided to leave it that way. At l
east until he is more familiar with me, she reasoned. Then I will try again.
"I needed to get away from people"--What people?--"so . . . I brought tuna-fish for lunch." Natalie set the basket on the ground a few feet from the scarred coffin and knelt, trembling fingers retrieving a sandwich. "I have extra."
She grimaced, giving an immediate shiver at a return of the oppressive silence. A shrug of her shoulders sloughed it aside, freeing her to peruse the musty bleakness of the crypt while nibbling on her sandwich. She washed it down with grape juice from the inn's kitchen--she glared down at the lid-cup with a wrinkle of her nose. "Not as tart as I like, but I suppose it is better than water."
Setting aside her sandwich remains, she dusted crumbs from her hands and gestured behind her. "People say this basement should be closed off as a danger." She shrugged. "I like it. Of course, old houses and tombs are where I feel most comfortable." Natalie sipped again from the cup, casting his coffin a sidelong glance. "You would tell me I was being an annoyance before eating me, wouldn't you?"
Silence.
"No one has accused me of talking too much but, then again, the social aspect of society has never been my reason for being near people. They were team members helping uncover a mystery. That was always the extent of the relationship." She tapped the lip of the cup and then set it aside. "I catalogued. I deciphered and translated. I researched recent discoveries of Professor Gast regarding the Ancients and the Promised Land, or Hojo's latest breakthrough in the realm of genetic engineering. Then there were articles prepared for publication in the local scientific digest--Shinra-owned, of course. Where was I to find the time for socialization, fraternization, or anything even remotely similar." Natalie shrugged. "None of my colleagues ever offered to meet after hours or on weekends for coffee or drinks, so I suppose my lack of a clique of acquaintances cannot be entirely my fault."
Excuses, Nat? Really? She cleared her throat. "Of course, I don't believe I would have taken the opportunity even if they extended an invitation. People and I generally don't do well together. Whether it's my tendency towards tactlessness, or a dislike of speaking in front of strangers, I don't know. Writing articles, essays, or the like is much easier for me. I usually don't know what to say to an actual person. Unless I have notes there in front of me, of course." Or a scarred black coffin showing no signs of life nor interest. She released a deep breath. "I am sorry, Vincent. All the way here I kept telling myself it wasn't the brightest idea I had today, but the voice of reason seldom sways my mind in anything. So, here I am, annoying you with my rambling while not allowing you a moment's peace."
Natalie packed up her picnic with agonized deliberation. If she could have persuaded her mouth to stop moving, she would have felt better about simply lingering in the crypt with notes and books. But the moment she stepped into the room she couldn't stop blathering.
Her hand clutched the insulated jug of grape juice as she set it in the basket. "Have you . . . have you thought over the possibility of allowing an interview?" The coffin drew her gaze, but there was no movement. "If you rather a private interview before the others arrive, I can arrange that. If not, I can be in my room at the inn most of the day, although I do need to go to the ruins by Mt. Nibel. Organizing and planning, you understand. You are more than welcome to stop by whenever you have a free moment--at either Mt. Nibel or my room at the inn, of course. That way I could at least let you know when everyone plans on arriving."
Natalie forced a grasp of her basket and pushed herself to her feet. "I might not return until day after tomorrow, preparing for the interview you see, but I will try to drop in now and again to at least say 'hi'. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I like it here. Must, dust, gloom and all."
She cast the box a wistful look, immediately giving herself a mental shake. Come along, Nat. Walk away without a flare of the melodramatic. So she did, closing the door carefully behind her while whispering, "I will be back, Vincent. Rest well."
Out of the basement, up the staircase, and out of the Mansion she shuffled, all the while nagged by a dusting of gloom. Being away from the crypt for a few days would be good for her. Impatience had always been her virtue, and that would never mesh well with Vincent Valentine. Natalie worried her lower lip--pinching it between two fingers as was her habit--while pausing at the gate to glance back toward the Mansion. Then she let fly a fast breath and trudged toward the inn.
She didn't notice the careful observance of the shadow at the second-story window.
III
ROMANTIC INTERLUDES
Too early the next morning, Natalie found herself staring at the same stretch of wooden ceiling above her bed. The few questions she scratched onto a somewhat trail-worn piece of paper the previous night were last on her mind, now forgotten on the table across the room. Instead, her mind worked relentlessly at designing the best way to persuade Vincent Valentine from his coffin.
"All these years . . . I can't simply let him slip away. Can I?" Natalie covered her flushed face with cool hands. It was his life and, therefore, his choice. The choice had been offered up, and now Natalie could only wait. It was the waiting she most despised, especially when she had no control over the end result.
Natalie dropped her arms to her sides. "Bother." She pushed herself from the bed and dressed, exiting her room without even casting a disparaging glance at the list of questions scratched out for the requested interview. She retraced her steps from inn to Mansion to basement without a thought. Then she opened the door of Vincent's sanctuary, pressing it slowly and softly closed. She rested her forehead against the rough wood. She didn't notice a slight shift of the coffin lid.
She fisted her hands, releasing a calming breath before forcing herself to turn. But she couldn't persuade a forward step. Another invasion, Nat? This was his sanctuary, and yet she continued to thrust herself into the silence. She slumped against the door, staring at the black box. "I cannot believe I am having a romantic interlude with a coffin," she mumbled. People had often accused her of being on the odd side, but a coffin? She chuckled in spite of herself.
"Good morning, Vincent. I know it is too early to encroach on you, and I am sorry about that." She stepped forward, clenching her hands behind her back. "But the quiet of your sanctuary draws me. It reminds me of those places excavated. Places where I felt comfortable. Where I truly felt safe enough to be myself." A smile smoothed away the creases of her forehead. She knelt at the foot of the coffin. "I suppose your coffin is why I feel comfortable enough to talk to you." Although she would rather speak with him rather than at him.
"I . . . I really am sorry, Vincent. It isn't my intention to bother you. I just needed some quiet this morning before the bustle began in town. That and I'm fretting about an interview I coordinated with your traveling companions. It will help that they consider you a friend, but it will still involve conversations with live people. Not my strong suit." Natalie cleared her throat, guilt for the continued interruptions to his privacy began to rankle at her. But the silence which settled over her was no longer the suffocating stillness of previous visits. It felt simple, and the fact settled Natalie's nerves.
Her retreated to the crease of coffin and ground, watching with disinterest as a beetle trudged from one side to the other. "I did this all the time when at top-secret archeological digs, snuck away to a remote portion of the project and relished the isolation." She nudged the beetle away from her knee with a single finger as memories resurfaced. "The Cetra burial rooms were so simple yet full of intricate detail. Lovely. A person could tell great care had gone to the arrangement and design of every facet of the tomb. They were so very gifted. They knew where they were destined once they passed from this existence, and they chose to celebrate the going."
Natalie flushed, pressing cool hands against her cheeks. "There I go again, my mouth running like a waterfall. Talking about archaeology always opens the floodgates. I suppose one could say it's a passion I don't share with anyone. I mean, to others it's odd to be so
enthralled with an extinct race. Telling someone I find myself at tombs and crypts several times a day sounds more insane than professional. At least, that's what I assume from the looks I get. But I can't help simply gazing at the creativity within those Cetra tombs and temples. It inspires me to stretch out, beyond myself, and delve deeper into what interests me. Their passion seems to influence those in direct contact with them."
The scarred box once more drew her focus. "They were such an interesting people. You could tell by the work they left behind--gorgeous--and so . . . calming. I felt safe in those tombs, so I would talk for hours on whatever bothered me that day. Is it silly to feel they helped me make decisions I otherwise wouldn't have considered? Their presence soothed, so, I suppose that is why I find myself here now."
The fact you doubt he will ever step out doesn't come into play? She shoved the thought aside.
"Now, I miss those days of talking on whatever came to mind. Lately I have been so pre-occupied researching Hojo's experiments, things have bottled up. I . . . thank you for letting me prattle. I know you haven't exactly had much of a choice in the matter, but I thought I should thank you regardless."
She flicked a pebble. "I suppose I should go. There is a lot more prep-work for the interviews." Natalie stood and shuffled to the door, casting another glance toward the coffin before pulling the door closed with a slow, deep breath and a whispered, "I'll see you later."
She navigated her way out of the Mansion and meandered toward the inn on the far side of Nibelheim.
"Excuse me? Are you Natalie Long?" A tall woman with a tone physique and long brunette hair approached. The woman's buxom figure made Natalie self-conscious about her own lack of curves. She shoved it aside. It was pointless to regret something she could never change.
Natalie accepted the woman's outstretched hand. "I am. What can I do for you?"
"I'm Tifa Lockhart. I got a message you wanted to do some sort of interview."
"Ah! Yes. Come with me. I have a room at the inn. Have you eaten?"
"Yes. Thanks." Tifa fell into step beside Natalie. "What kind of interview?"
"Regarding the planet. You and the others have done some incredible work, and I wanted to start marking the progress."
"That would be more Red or Barret's department. Have you gotten an interview set up with them?"
"Barret, yes. Last evening, in fact. But Red?" Natalie frowned. “I don't know. The name doesn't sound familiar.”
"He's a . . . err . . . Well, he looks a lot like a . . . um . . . . His grandfather was one of the Elders in Cosmo Canyon. Bugenhagen."
"Oh! Nanaki." Natalie opened the door of the inn to usher Tifa inside. "Yes. He's coming tomorrow afternoon. So are Barret and Cid."
"You've got the whole gang coming."
"Well, I couldn't reach Yuffie or Reeve. I haven't heard anything from Cloud, either."
Tifa flushed. "Cloud's coming to Nibelheim later this week, if you don't mind waiting. He needed to pack up some of his stuff at Aeris's. I don't know where Yuffie went. I suppose you already checked Wutai?"
Natalie led Tifa upstairs to her room. "Yes. No one seems to know where she is. That's fine, though. The others will likely provide enough information." She motioned to the table set up in the middle of the room. "Make yourself comfortable." She retrieved her pen and paper--computers being banned until an environmentally safe power source could be found--and scrawled a few notes. "I appreciate this, Ms. Lockhart."
She laughed. "Please. It's Tifa."
Natalie smiled. "Tifa." And the ease of the conversation amazed her. Tifa Lockhart was an utter stranger, and a hero besides! I wonder if Vincent felt the same? The possibility intrigued her, and she had to fight the urge to inquire. Natalie cleared her throat and tapped her pen on the paper. Nat, focus or the interview will be a disaster!
"All right. Now, could you maybe outline exactly what you and the others have planned to bring the planet back to normal?"
Tifa leaned her forearms on the table. "Like I said before, Red's the big planner. We just do what he and Barret tell us to."
I wonder how involved Vincent is--Natalie shoved the thoughts away with an almost visible motion. "Could you give some examples?"
"Examples? You mean of what they tell us to do?"
Natalie gave a nod, still grappling with her focus. "Exactly." Would Vincent care one way or the other? Would he help because any act that countermands Shinra's involvement is a type of revenge?
"Well . . ." Tifa cupped her chin in her hand. "Let's see. They told us to gather all the Materia we'd been using and put it in the Lifestream, for one."
"Right. I have note of that." Vincent spent so much time surrounded by Materia because of his time with Shinra, he likely had some thought on that subject --Nat! She frowned and nodded, jotting short-hand notes onto the paper. "Go on."
"Then we gathered a bunch of seedlings from the church where Aeris lived and planted them in the most fertile areas around Midgar."
I wonder if Vincent helped with any of the flowers? She nearly giggled. Flowers? No, probably not--Natalie! She sighed, setting down her pen to rub her forehead.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head and leaned back in her chair, concentrating in order to focus her gaze on Tifa's concerned expression. "I am sorry. It seems I'm not ready to do this right now."
"I can come back with the others. It is kind of early." Tifa made a move to stand
"Wait. May I ask you a question about someone?"
"Sure." She returned to her seat.
"It's about Vincent."
Tifa raised an eyebrow. "Vincent? What about him?"
"You know he returned to the basement of Shinra Mansion. Right?"
"I figured that's where he went. After all, that's where we found him." When Natalie didn't respond, Tifa tilted her head. "He's all right, isn't he?"
"In all honesty, I hoped you could tell me that answer." Natalie picked at a fingernail. "Has he always hidden himself away like that? Does he never come out?"
"Well, he felt responsible for a lot of things, and sleeping in the coffin was his way of punishing himself. When we asked for his help, he only did it because it was another way to make things right. I don't understand why he still feels like he has to punish himself. Hojo was the one responsible. Of course, we never did understand Vincent. He stayed so quiet about his personal life."
Natalie lowered her gaze. "I noticed."
Tifa stood, smoothing some imaginary wrinkles from her tight jeans. "Did you want to do this tomorrow, or when Red and Cid get here?"
"I suppose we should wait until the others arrive. That would be easiest." Natalie sent Tifa a small smile. "I appreciate it."
"Don't worry about it. I'll see you later." Tifa left the room.
"Snap out of it, Nat." She shuffled to the window looking out on the well in the center of Nibelheim. "This isn't like you at all. Does life end at the gate of Shinra Mansion! Pull yourself together!" She took in a deep breath and released it slow, repeating the exercise several times. "That's better. Now, why don't you take a moment and relax." Natalie pulled a book off the shelf from the bookcase beside the window. She made her way to her bed.
"DNA Alteration and the Jenova Project, by Professor Hojo." Natalie lay back with a grimace. "This is to help me relax?" She slammed the tome closed and dropped it onto the floor. Her arm seemed a leaden weight as she brought it to cover her eyes. "You're just tired. Take a nap." She shifted to her side, wrapping her arms around herself as she let her mind fade to the dreams that would take her where she did and did not want to go . . . .
. . . . Natalie took in a deep breath before opening the door. She didn't look at his coffin as she entered the room. I can't. I know what he will say. If he does . . . how will I say 'no'? Instead, she kept her back toward the room and closed the door. Both palms pressed against the cold wood once it clicked shut. She stood still for several moments, wanting him to come closer . . . wanting him to stay in
the coffin . . . . Why couldn't this be easier? Why did it need to happen like this?
"You seem upset. What is it?" a gentle baritone voice asked.
"Nothing."
Natalie heard the satin rustle of his cape as he shifted from where he leaned against his coffin. Oh dear god. He's coming closer. I can't. Don't, Vincent. Please-- He enfolded her arm in a gentle grip and turned her to face him, lifting her chin with a single finger. She held that amber gaze and he . . . smiled? Her insides numbed, her knees weakening as a spark shot out from her very soul to each and every facet of her body.
"You look lovely today."
"Thank you." She continued to look up into those glowing eyes, her firm resolution fading. "Vincent, we need to talk."
He raised an ebony eyebrow. "About?"
"About us."
"Ah. Us." Vincent caressed her cheek. Natalie's throat tightened. "And what needs to be said that has such fear glowing in those lovely green gems?"
"I can't see you anymore."
His eyes twinkled with amusement, his lips tilted in the caress of another smile. "You've said so before, and yet you always return. Why are you afraid of me?" Vincent examined her expression with those seductive amber eyes that seemed to see everything. "Ah. I see. You are afraid of yourself."
Natalie pulled away, escaping to the area of his coffin, her arms tight around her. "It just wouldn't work, Vincent. I care about you, yes, but . . . ."
He waited a moment before prompting "But what?" as he moved closer.
"I don't know. I'm just so afraid."
Vincent caressed her neck with a solitary finger, the caress of his whisper a warmth against her ear. "It is not wrong to be afraid."
She shook her head as she attempted to turn away again, but he held her in a firm yet tender grasp. When he turned her toward him, his expression was painfully clear in meaning. He leaned in to caress her lips with his.
"I have waited for someone," he whispered, his lips a mere breath from hers. "Do not leave me to the darkness."
A soft whimper tore her throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck, the pressure of his lips deepening as she responded--
--Natalie jerked to a sitting position with a choked sob, bringing trembling hands up to ward off the imagery. The dream had come before, but never so clear. His eyes had never been so real, nor his expression so defined. She groaned. "Why did you need to find him? The fantasies would have faded if you hadn't done that!" Her determination had never before become her torturer.
She sniffed, brushing away the tears before tumbling from the bed. She staggered her way to the window and leaned against the sill, staring toward Shinra Mansion with burning eyes. How could she have let this happen?
She tossed her head of curls. "I know it's impossible. I know it's foolish, and pathetic, and god knows what else, but it happened. I let myself get emotionally entangled with a research project--" She winced. "Project, Nat?" She slumped onto the floor, her head dropping until her chin touched her chest. "He is no more a project than the Cetra tombs are simple ruins. And don't try distancing yourself from him now. It is simply too late to change the fact you care."
All he would need to do was smile her general direction and she would likely offer to have his baby. Natalie smacked her forehead and allowed a reluctant smile. She doubted she would ever be that ridiculous, but it felt better to laugh than bawl her head off.
IV
THE INTERVIEW
The next day Natalie gave herself explicit instructions to stay in her room and outline questions and allowable tangents for the interview. Considering her distraction level due to the poignant clarity of the previous day's dream, that became quite a feat. Lunch was delivered and then the door remained firmly closed, as did her mind in regards to any thoughts of Vincent Valentine.
The day of the interview, Natalie set out extra chairs, double-checked her supply of pens and paper, tracked down her list of questions for the different people scheduled to be present that day, and then sat back with a collection of science and archaeology magazines as she waited for them to arrive. Natalie found herself hoping they were all as easy to talk to as Tifa.
She heard awful things about Barret, everyone on the planet knew he had led the anti-Shinra group AVALANCHE, but she wasn't one to make harsh judgments. Considering her own challenges in the social realm, it seemed better to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. In some ways more than others. Her thoughts drifted to Vincent for the first time in nearly 36 hours--
A crash shot her from her seat, her magazine cascading to the floor as her gaze fell to a man at the entrance of her room kneeling over a broken vase. "Heavens. You scared me to death," she said, a hand still pressed to her chest.
The man with the spiked blond hair cast her a grimace. "Sorry about that. I caught it with my scabbard." He finished chucking the glass shards into the nearby waste basket and slowly straightened, offering her his hand when he stepped forward. "The name's Cloud. Strife. I heard you were looking for me."
"Nice to meet you, finally, though Tifa said you wouldn't be here for a couple more days."
Cloud smiled. "She doesn't know I'm here yet. It's a surprise."
"Oh." Natalie gestured to one of the many chairs situated around her small table. "Have a seat. We can start now if you like."
"Could we wait?"
"That's fine." It didn't matter to her one way or the other since she would continue to be isolated in her room when she would rather be in a musty old basement. She gave herself a mental shake. She couldn't sound more pathetic.
Cloud sat in one of the chairs, kicking it back to prop his feet on the table. "So, do you like doing these kinds of things?"
"Interviews?" Natalie grimaced as she sat in the chair opposite. "No. Definitely not." I like basements and coffins and other things forgotten.
"Then why do them?"
She shrugged, self-conscious at his continued examination. "Science sometimes demands we do what we would rather not. Besides, I hope the article sells well. I need the gil." Natalie cleared her throat. On the other hand, she entertained a sneaking suspicion she used the interview to discover information about Vincent she knew he wouldn't tell her himself.
Cloud smiled. "That's how I got involved with Barret in the first place. Gil. He had it. I needed it. He needed help. Bam! Volunteered for a job blowing up a reactor."
"It certainly sounds exciting, if a little dangerous." Vincent would have loved it.
"I didn't really care about the danger, but I'm glad it's over. The most dangerous thing I have to worry about these days is a paper cut." He smiled. "And pissing Tifa off."
Natalie's mind groaned to a halt. "You two are . . . together?"
"For now."
She arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I want to give her a choice. She's still her own person. I just don't want her to think I'm making her choose me over her own freedom. We've both gone through a lot together. It's just natural we'd end up here." He smiled. "I hoped we would."
Natalie looked down at her paper with an absent nod. "That's wonderful." Sickeningly so.
"Who else we expecting?"
"Nanaki. Barret. Tifa, obviously. Cid." Natalie perused her list, agonizing over the one name she wanted to see: Vincent.
"What about Vincent? I haven't heard from him since we won against Sephiroth."
Natalie's grip tightened on her pen. "I don't know about him or Yuffie. I couldn't get in contact with her."
"And Vincent?" Cloud asked again. "You know he's right here at Shinra Mansion, don't you?"
Natalie nodded, and she could feel the blood drain from her face. "Yes. Yes, I knew that." He didn't acknowledge her existence but yes, she knew.
"Did you send him an invite? Did you want me to do it for you? He doesn't talk much, but we got along pretty good together."
I'm sure you thought so, but did he? Natalie cast him a reluctant smile. "No. It's fine. I have enough to handle with the five of you."
I need the time away from him. You wouldn't understand, and that's fine, too.
"Just wondering."
"Hello, Cloud. It's nice to see you after such a long time."
Natalie and Cloud looked toward the door.
"Hey there, Red. How've you been?" Cloud asked, smiling.
Nanaki, the lion-like creature fondly known as Red, came to sit beside Cloud. He tucked his tail around his forepaws. "Quite well, thank you. Yourself?"
"Keeping busy." Cloud gestured to Natalie. "This is Natalie Long. Natalie, this is Red . . . err . . . Nanaki."
"Hello." Natalie had to fight the urge to scratch behind his velvety soft ears. "It's very nice to finally meet you. I've read all your articles, as well as those of your grandfather. Brilliant. Fascinating."
Red nodded his head, and he almost seemed to smile at her. "Thank you very much."
"Sorry I'm late."
Cloud stood, sending Tifa a grin. "Surprise."
"Cloud!" Tifa threw herself forward and into his arms, which quite nearly made them both topple backward. "I thought you weren't going to be here until the end of the week!"
Natalie gulped and lowered her eyes. The outline on the paper before her blurred.
"I packed faster." Cloud pulled back and urged her to take his seat, which she did. "I guess it's just Barret and Cid now."
"No, it's just Barret."
They all looked to the entrance of the quickly filling room to send the ruggedly handsome engineer a smile. He took a puff of his cigarette while he swaggered in. He collapsed into the nearest chair, beside Natalie.
She offered a hand. "Hello, Mr. Highwind. My name's Natalie Long. I'm doing the interview."
"Well I didn't think any of these damned numbskulls would be doing it," he retorted as he firmly shook it.
Natalie blinked in surprise, but the others simply laughed. She allowed a smile, somehow at ease among these strangers that were such close friends. How much more so had Vincent felt this same welcome? He spent weeks and months with them in order to save the planet.
"I really appreciate your time. All of you."
"It's no problem," Cid said gruffly.
The others repeated much the same sentiment.
"Very well. I suppose we might as well begin. There is no point making you all wait. I'm sure Mr. Barret will be here as soon as he can." And Vincent?
Cloud sat in the chair beside Tifa, kicking back and draping one of his arms along the back of her chair. Every so often he would caress her back with a solitary finger. "Don't bet on it. He's been awfully busy getting everybody situated with enough seedlings and starter plants. He could've forgotten about the whole thing."
Tifa laughed. "Cloud, come on. Barret forget a responsibility? That would be like Yuffie forgetting where a stash of Materia was in the old days."
"Hey. There's a first time for everything."
They all conceded the point with a laugh and then talked amongst themselves as they relived myriad of past adventures with "do you remember when"s and "wasn't it funny when"s. Natalie watched their interactions with a bright, keen interest. How did Vincent react such a wide variety of people? Did he feel lost? Overwhelmed? Accepted? There were so many questions to ask the lonely soul tucked away in a distant basement.
"What exactly is your plan?" Natalie finally asked. They all focused on her. She shifted in her seat and forced herself to remain seated. "For rescuing the planet," she added. "What's the plan? Anyone?"
They all exchanged glances before Red cleared his throat with a husky purr. "It's not necessarily a plan, per say, but the only course of action we see available."
"How did you reason out what to do?"
"It was kind of simple," Tifa spoke up timidly. "Mako and Materia were actually the planet's life. Once we knew that, it seemed obvious we needed to give it back. That's why we put it in the Lifestream."
"And the machinery?" Natalie asked Cid.
"Machinery before used Mako. It's my job to find out how to make them use either solar energy or something else, just as long as it doesn't detract from the planet's energy or poison the atmosphere." He grumbled under his breath a moment or two. "I tell ya, I don't have many god-damn options open to me at the moment."
Natalie restrained a smile at the outburst. I wonder what Vincent's reaction was to you, Mr. Highwind. He more than likely gave the Turk no end of amusement. "Have any of you noticed any changes in the ecosystem?"
"Yeah," Cloud said. "The sky's different. The grass is greener, too. And there seem to be more animals around then before."
"The kids look healthier," Tifa volunteered.
Natalie nodded. "Yes. I've noticed that. The people have a healthier, more positive attitude." Maybe Vincent just needed time.
"Of course," said a loud voice. "They've got damn good air to breathe!"
All of them turned, hailing Barret with an enthusiastic greeting as he stomped into the room with his adopted daughter, Marlene, perched upon his shoulders.
"I'm so glad you could make it Mister--"
"The name's Barret," he interrupted.
Natalie offered him her seat. He declined and, instead, leaned against the bookcase after depositing Marlene on the bed.
"So let's get this interview moving," he barked. "I've got a lot of work to do, and there's no stopping this train we're on."
They all laughed, and Natalie surrendered to another smile.
V
THE PROFOUND IN A SIMPLE 'HELLO'
Natalie leaned out the window as far as possible in order to catch a fuller glimpse of Shinra Mansion. Two full days passed since her last visit. She worked as fast as humanly possible to finish the bulk of the article, allowing herself the reward of visiting the Mansion as soon as she considered the article 75% complete. Thankfully, she finished the second draft that morning. All that remained was a final check of her outline, the references, and then a thorough read-through to catch any glaring--or not so glaring--errors.
Now, Natalie fled the room, a silly sense of anticipation making her heart flutter as she rushed down the stairs. She grabbed up the picnic lunch ordered that morning and hurried outdoors. The sun shone, and it must have been the loveliest day in her memory. She filled her lungs with the clear, warm air before altering her course to Shinra Mansion.
She nodded to the locals on the way, offering greetings and observations of the weather as she passed. Quite a few returned pleasantries, while others gave a blink of surprise before stammering a reply. Natalie shrugged it off, her hand gripping the welcome cold of the wrought iron gate before pushing it open further and hurrying inside.
The Mansion had grown to become a part of her daily routine. A place to unwind and gather thoughts. Natalie smiled wide, her steps instinctual from room to chamber to hidden passage and spiral stairway. She knew each creak and shudder. Every groan and tremor. When she arrived at the door to Vincent's sanctuary, she pushed it open with a smile. Everything looked blissfully old and decrepit.
Natalie closed the door behind her and set the picnic basket on the floor to her right. "Good afternoon, Vincent. It seems forever and a day since I made it down here last, doesn't it?" Natalie freed a rolled blanket from the top of the basket as she spoke, spreading it out at the foot of his coffin. "A couple times I thought I would crawl out of my skin if I didn't escape from the people and the article, but I muddled my way through somehow. And, you know, I am quite glad I did. The second draft is complete now, and I can breathe easier."
Natalie sat, positioning the basket in front of her. "It's the initial organization of an essay or article which pains me so. Tendency to ramble, you understand. Once I finish the rough draft, the project is so much easier to complete." She retrieved her insulated jug of juice. "And I do believe I have finally decided to buy this mansion. My article is bound to bring in enough gil to cover the down payment. The thought of this building being torn down is simply unacceptable! It shouldn't take much to repair, even if I don't perform those myself. You see, I d
on't know the first thing about construction. I am more of the destruction type. Understand how something was built by taking it apart? That way it's easier to understand the people who built it."
Natalie smiled as she reached forward to unpack her usual tuna sandwich. "The safest idea for this mansion would be to hire someone." She took a bite of her sandwich and then pointed at Vincent's coffin with it. "Don't you think the people of Nibelheim will be willing to sell it at a reasonable price? It's becoming a bit of an eyesore, unfortunately. That surprised me, too. I mean," she swallowed, "this building has such potential. It could be a school, or a clinic, or even a research facility."
Silence continued, and it didn't settle very well with Natalie's appetite. She adjusted her hold on her sandwich, staring down at it as she released a deep breath.
"The interview went well," she said after clearing her throat. "Your friends are extremely easy to speak with, which surprised me. I have never been adept at conversations and interactions." Natalie chuckled. "Yes, I know I seem to chew your ear off easily enough, but there is a clear difference. You are in that box, and I am safely outside. Ignored, or seemingly so. Besides, I would like to believe we have a few things in common. Perhaps that helps." You do realize you confessed to wishful thinking right then?
Natalie put her sandwich away. "We both knew Lucrecia. I don't think I told you that."--Are you truly this desperate for his attention? But it was only a white lie.--"I didn't know her that well, but I could tell I would have liked her. Unfortunately, we didn't have an opportunity to talk. She was usually busy with something for Shinra." Natalie frowned as she picked at the blanket. "Shinra. I am so glad Rufus and his father burned. They were asses both!" She sighed. "Although I suppose I shouldn't swear."
"Why not?"
Natalie gasped and fell back. Vincent hovered midair above the coffin, those amber eyes as cool as she remembered. "H-Hi." Wow, Nat. Real smooth.
Vincent regarded her for a long moment before gracefully descending to stand opposite her. She offered him her sandwich. He gave a single shake of his head, his long ebony hair shifting with the movement. Instead, he lowered himself onto the blanket across from her, legs and arms crossed. Natalie watched in growing horror. Her fantasy was coming true, and she handled the fact with about as much grace as an addle-brained child.
Vincent continued to examine her with those piercing eyes. "I was under the impression you did not work for Shinra."
Natalie blinked. He listened? She flushed, her gaze retreating to her sandwich as she attempted to return it to its plate. Breathe, Nat. Breathe and you will be fine. "They funded the digs."--thank god her voice didn't squeak--"They always did have their fingers in as many pies as possible." She ventured a quick glance in time to see his expression shift to a curious light of--
"Then how did you know Lucrecia?"
Natalie cleared her throat. "She was the best friend of my high-school teacher's sister." She grimaced. "I know. It sounds quite the adventurous involvement. But, in my defense, my teacher kept us up-to-date about projects Lucrecia was involved in. I think one of the highlights of my day was hearing her latest adventure. Lucrecia had the life I wanted. She was actively involved in research, and could study whatever she wished. That was what I wanted to have as soon as I was out of school." Natalie sighed. "I wish we could have talked."
Vincent said nothing, and she could almost feel the intense examination of those amber eyes.
Natalie worried her lower lip. "That was how I first heard of you."
Vincent's eyebrow twitched.
"The stories my teacher told fascinated me," she confessed, "so I did more research. That led to my discovery of Hojo and his experiments with DNA manipulation and alteration, which is what I believe he did to you. I dug up as many articles as I could on Hojo and his experiments, until I discovered the information about this Mansion and the basement . . ." Something in his expression shifted. Natalie pinched her bottom lip with guilt. "I wanted to meet you, so, I suppose I didn't consider whether or not you wished visitors. I am sorry. I never meant to invade your privacy."
"Why would you want to meet me?"
"Call me a romantic?" The ludicrousness of it invited a smile.
"Why?"
Natalie laughed. "And I thought I asked a lot of questions." He didn't comment. "You, Mr. Valentine, are a mystery. As a scientist and archaeologist, I love mysteries. That's what I do. Not only that, you are a bit of a tortured soul."
His jaw clenched.
Natalie's smile quivered and died. "I . . . . I didn't mean to plow over you. People are not my forte. Well, actually, civilizations are one of my focuses, but socializing with live persons is quite different. Speaking of which, would you be interested in seeing the new fossils discovered up Mt. Nibel? They haven't completed the equipment setup, that isn't due for another couple of days, so it should be rather quiet." Nat! You're rambling--
"How do you understand what Hojo did to me?"
Natalie blinked, switching off the vocal section of her brain in order to process the question for an intelligent reply. "In all honesty, that is a harder question to answer than you might realize, though only because I don't know quite how to explain. Whenever I didn't understand an article, I pulled the reports and articles mentioned in the notes and researched them myself. Then, if they were a matter of record, I would pull the itemized notes which followed their experiments, though that didn't happen often. Most of the time the information clicked, like a collection of puzzle pieces falling into place."
"Is it reversible?" The intensity of the question made her feel as if his very essence leaned forward for the answer.
Natalie swallowed several mouthfuls of her juice to steady her heart and nerves. "I have asked myself that same question quite a few times. Only, unfortunately, I haven't had enough experience to know one way or the other. DNA manipulation is still so experimental that I don't dare hazard a guess. My specialty was always historic, not genetic or cellular."
Put aside the fact that she figured out what Hojo did, she knew she would like never discover the way to put him back to normal. "I don't have the expertise, the research ability, or the field experience." She sighed, eyes focused sole on the dance of the grape juice with the glass. "I wish I could say 'yes' with any amount of truth or certainty, but I can't. I wouldn't want to lie to you."
"In other words, you have thought of the possibility before."
"So many times," she sighed. "As I said before, your entire history has fascinated me. The minute I discovered what Hojo had done, I toyed with the idea of reversing the effects. One problem: I don't have the facility for experimentation Hojo did. I doubt I ever shall, now that Shinra is wiped off the face of the planet. No other place has their type of advanced equipment."
"That isn't true."
Natalie met his guarded amber gaze. "What do you mean?"
"Shinra has a laboratory within the basement of this Mansion. Cloud will know where it is."
Natalie blinked. "A laboratory? Here? Really?" She smiled and pressed her hands together to keep from launching herself into an embrace. "Do you know how many years I have fantasized of my own lab?" Something akin to amusement flickered across Vincent's features for the briefest instant. Natalie flushed. "Ah. Yes. Scientists and their foolish passions, but I have toyed with an idea of something which might work for simply ages. Can you imagine my frustration when I couldn't try it out? For you to say there's a lab . . . It's so exciting!"
"An idea?"
Natalie's excitement faded, her gaze drawn to his handsome face and the slender, arched eyebrow. "I didn't mean to say that aloud." Are you sure about that? "It was just a silly notion I had once. One of my crazy romantic imaginings of grandeur and heroic rescue. It may not even be plausible . . . ." She slouched. “Now I raised your hopes.”
"Hope? Why would I believe there was hope for me?"
And his features revealed nothing more than his usual coolness, as distant as when she first saw him
. "How--Never mind. Um, if you--Never mind that either." Natalie pinched her lower lip, and then forced herself to stand. He watched her, those long-fingered hands yet resting upon the knees. Did anyone look as compelling in black and red? "Cloud and Tifa are walking around Mt. Nibel today and won't be back until later this evening. Would you help me find the lab? I want to see exactly what I am looking at in expenses for getting it up and running."
Vincent remained seated a moment more. When he stood, it was like watching a panther uncoil: languid grace. "Yes."
"Are you sure you don't mind?" Why would you give him a moment to change his mind? She was an idiot.
"Yes."
"I appreciate it." She made a move to pack up the picnic, but then shook her head. "Never mind that," she told Vincent with a smile--though he had made no move to retrieve it either. "I'll come back later hungrier than anything, more than likely. It's always a mystery that makes me hungry enough to eat a chocobo." Natalie turned for the door and stepped out, moving aside for Vincent to have room to stand beside her. "Which way?"
He gestured to the left. "It isn't far."
Vincent was about to take a step forward when Natalie stopped him with a hand on his left arm. He faced her, his eyebrows arched. "Sorry," Natalie said as she quickly removed her hand, but she continued with her train of thought. "Are you absolutely certain you don't mind? This might have been where Hojo did his experiments on you and . . . if it causes a problem for you at all, I will wait until Cloud returns. It isn't a problem. I've waited this long, so a few more hours won't hurt."
It seemed the briefest flash of emotion exploded across Vincent's face. It made Natalie wonder a little more about the past she hadn't been able to discover via the reading of experimentation reports, interviews, and assistants' journal entries. What did you go through, Vincent? What happened to make you this tortured soul? These questions had fascinated Natalie for years. The pieces she longed to uncover in order to fix something--anything--about him.
Vincent remained silent, but his gaze did not retreat. Natalie smiled. "I apologize if I sound too cautious for a scientist. I'm concerned for your feelings. I have never been experimented on, Vincent, but I would like to hope I can appreciate the tenderness of the experience."
He blinked and shifted his gaze to the path ahead. "It doesn't matter. It is in the past."
"Sometimes the past is all we have." Vincent focus returned, the intensity resuming as he scrutinized her features. Natalie flushed. "I am sorry." She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "I have a tendency of being about as subtle as a Midgar Zolom."
"I doubt that is possible."
Natalie peeked at him. "Was that sarcasm?" Vincent didn't answer. "Hm. Well, whether it was or wasn't, why would you say that? Curiosity is yet another vice of mine. You haven't . . . you haven't actually seen one, have you?"
"As a matter of fact--"
"What? Wow. I have read about them, even found pictures, but--You really have seen one?"
"I fought one."
Every picture of slaughtered animals and victims flashed through her mind. She gulped and tried not to vomit. "As you obviously survived, how in the world did you beat the creature? They're downright vicious!"
"No match for the three of us."
"The three of you?"
"Cloud and Aeris." He met her gaze, and amusement softened the amber glow. "I am not fool enough to fight one alone."
Why not? You do everything else by yourself. Natalie cleared her throat. "True. Didn't think that one through." His amused twinkle didn't retreat. She smiled. "You had me by the neck with that one. I will need to pay more attention to what you say next time. Otherwise I'm liable to take every word as fact rather than fiction." It sounded like one of the best prospects thus far. "Why did you three go against one of those?"
"We needed its skill."
"Its skill? As in what exactly?"
"The Midgar Zolom has the skill called Beta, a powerful elemental attack. We needed the skill for our battles against Sephiroth and Shinra."
"Ah. Intriguing. Did you learn it then? As in, did you learn to duplicate the attack?"
"No." Vincent paused, and then he turned to begin down the short corridor. Natalie followed beside him. "Yes. Our Materia stored the ability, allowing us to use it later."
"I see. Interesting. I wonder how it accomplished that," Natalie mumbled. "The Materia would require a type of sentience in order to retain the knowledge of the ability learned . . . I wonder. They say Materia was part of the planet, and this would definitely be proof to that effect. I wish Materia wasn't taboo. I would love the opportunity to examine some. Although, I suppose I should be able to learn all I need from Bugenhagen's research and Shinra's declassified reports. Hm. I should look into ordering those files." Natalie noticed Vincent had halted outside a huge wooden door. "Are we here? Already?"
"I didn't wish to interrupt."
"Ah." Natalie blushed and cleared her throat. "I have a tendency of reasoning things aloud, as you heard. I don't understand why, but somehow it helps me brainstorm solutions and the like. Either that or I am simply too lazy to keep my thoughts to myself. It could be both, I suppose."
Vincent continued to stare down at her with those intense amber eyes, silent, and yet not leaving her with the impression that he ignored her.
Natalie dragged her gaze away--Nat!--and reached out to open the door. "Well, I suppose we discover what hides behind door number one." The massive door creaked and groaned as it opened. She gasped "It's huge!" as she stepped inside.
Books by the hundreds were stacked on tables and bookcases, or littered the floor. Notebooks and tablets filled with handwritten journal notes obstructed desks and tables from view. Video storage equipment stood askew in a far corner. Shelves creaked under the weight of beakers containing neatly labeled liquids. Two cylindrical holding chambers linked to one of the Shinra Corporation's best computers glowed from the far side.
"Oh my . . . ." she sighed, eyes wide as they took it all in. Books, such glorious books! The purr of the computer drew her like a mouse to cheese. Unaffected by the world's sudden turn from the use of Mako. Natalie performed a quick search of the computer's surroundings, discovering a link to its own small Mako generator.
Natalie pulled out a dusty office chair to sit with a slow breath, caressing the keyboard with a slowly growing smile. "Technology . . ." she whispered. "I've missed it these few years in no man's land. But now . . . . I know Mako is outlawed, but this computer may be the difference between--" She peeked at Vincent, who now stood by those storage chambers a little way from the desk. His expression hadn't changed, but something about his attitude had. Natalie couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"Vincent?" He didn't answer. She moved to stand beside him, steps hesitant. "Are you all right?"
Vincent blinked but didn't face her. "Cloud spoke of these."
She forced her attention to the chambers. Standing more than six feet in height, they were impressively high-tech. They were also filled with a type of greenish embryonic liquid. Natalie reached out a hand to touch the cylinder. "It's still warm," she whispered. Her eyes traced all the intricate details, her fingers running along its smooth surface. "It could be an incubator of some sort, still running, apparently. As if the experiment should still be here." Natalie discovered a plaque on each cylinder. "Hm. C project. Specimen (A) code Z. This one is specimen (B) and code C. I wonder what it means." She returned to the computer again. "Well, any scientist worth their salt will have kept records. I will simply need to take a peek and see what I can find out."
"Cloud said that he and Zack, a friend from SOLDIER, were held here and injected with Jenova cells and Mako."
Natalie grimaced. "Hojo."
"Yes. He claimed Cloud was a clone. We have no proof he told the truth."
"Why did he have such a fascination with screwing up the lives of others?" Natalie pressed her lips into a thin line as she typed furiously on the keyboard, searching
and cross-checking references in order to discover anything regarding the experiments in that basement. Shinra. Cloud Strife. SOLDIER. Hojo. Jenova.
"There must be a connection," she murmured. "Some experiment Hojo repeated. He was always so sadistically persistent." She typed in the name Vincent Valentine.
PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD
Natalie blinked, and her fingers hovered over the keyboard. "Hello. What do we have here? You're using a password, Professor? I wonder if you might possibly have a secret."
"What is it?"
Vincent moved to stand behind her, his presence emanating a calming warmth. She pulled in a slow breath to wrangle her focus back to the computer screen. "I typed in your name. Now the computer is asking for a password."
"Have you tried 'Lucrecia'?"
Natalie glanced over her shoulder toward his tall, slender frame. "He wouldn't use anything so obvious, would he?" How much would she accomplish if he continued to stand so close?
"Perhaps." Vincent motioned to the monitor. "Try it."
Natalie shrugged and typed in the letters.
ACCESS DENIED – PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD
"For what it's worth," Natalie offered with another glance and a smile, "it wasn't a bad idea. Any other suggestions?"
Vincent stared down at the monitor, his brows furrowing. "Perhaps." Then he rested a hand on the back of her chair and reached over her shoulder to type three simple letters: G - O - D.
ACCESS GRANTED – WELCOME, PROFESSOR HOJO
"Now that's scary," Natalie said softly. The password as well as what his close proximity did to her fading shreds of composure.
"No scarier than what he bred." Vincent turned away.
Natalie's heart fell. "Where are you going?"
"Elsewhere. You need room to work."
"You aren't in the way, Vincent." He didn't respond. He simply continued toward the door. "Will you come back? I haven't had a chance to ask you any questions."
"Yes."
Natalie stared after him, desperate to try and reason out a way to--"Vincent." He halted, but didn't turn. "You don't need to leave. I could use your help."
"Perhaps later." And then he headed once more toward the exit.
Natalie watched him leave with a growing weight of helplessness. Then he closed the door behind him and her mind was left to ricochet from fantasy to real world and back again. She shook her head in a vain effort to clear her muddled thoughts. "Nat." She swiveled back to the computer, desperately attempting to refocus her attention. "This is your chance. Let's get to work."
VI
WONDERINGS OF A BAD TEMPER
Vincent stared at the door. He could hear the rhythmic tapping of the keyboard even through the solid wood. Occasionally the tapping would pause, only to resume at a faster pace, reminiscent of Barret's machine gunfire. The hope which longed to bloom within fought at the restraints of his long practiced self-control, and his expression hardened with his clenched jaw. He told her he didn't entertain hope, but do even I believe this? He and the others had battled against impossibilities too long for him not to consider this a reasonable expectation.
Vincent's eyes narrowed as he regarded that door, again seeing Natalie Long's seemingly innocent face. She knew Lucrecia--He strode back toward his sanctuary. Vincent had fought long and hard to banish the guilt of Lucrecia's death, so to be faced with yet another remembrance of her . . . . Someone who admired her courage and intelligence. Someone enthralled with what she herself found intriguing. And yet--
And yet, there was a fascinating difference about this woman who pulled him from his fitful slumber. She plunged forward, even though fear clutched at her heart and soul. His hold upon her overpowered her normal sense of self-preservation. To have such power over a stranger captured his intrigue.
Vincent approached the door of his sanctuary and halted, staring at the scarred expanse of wood with a cold, hard gaze. He turned his stare away and, instead, ascended the stairs leading to the main floor of Shinra Mansion. The nightmares which had tortured him passed at the defeat of Sephiroth. Even the memories of Lucrecia began to fade. Most hours found him staring at the cover of his self-appointed tomb wondering what would fill the unknown remaining years of his life.
Then he had heard a woman's voice exclaim, 'Oh my god! Vincent! I finally found you . . . .' Joy had colored those words.
The remembrance even now twisted his insides, setting them afire with an unexpected agony. How could anyone be so pleased to find his crypt? Hojo had made fear the only emotion ever witnessed by him. And yet--Vincent fisted his golden claw and then stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. He blinked up into the sky, filling his lungs with a deep breath of the clear, warm air. Yes. The effect of Sephiroth's evil dwindled. He could sense it. Jenova's power over their planet faded to a mere memory, easily and eagerly forgotten.
Her voice was no longer clearly spoken in his mind.
Vincent shifted his focus to the well Cloud often mentioned in his pleasant memories of home. It yet stood, almost a beacon of hope. A continued assurance that pleasant dreams were possible. He could even sense his own soul's attempt at belief--'I toyed with the idea of reversing the effects'--and that was his hope.
A hope he didn't deserve, yet she offered it with ease just the same. Why should I not take it? But his soul remained distant, testing the newfound idea with an air of feigned disdain. Hope never before partnered with him. Why should it? But no excuses against the idea surfaced.
Vincent clenched his jaw and almost retreated back for the Mansion and his sanctuary. The ring of familiar laughter halted his first step. Cloud and Tifa approached down the path leading to Mt. Nibel. When they saw him standing at the gate, they hesitated for the briefest possible moment before hurrying to his side.
"Look what the cat dragged in?" Cloud said, smiling as he clapped Vincent on the shoulder. "It's great to see you. What brings you out?"
Vincent examined Cloud's expression with a raised eyebrow. Such an emotion of happiness and laughter did not appear on the young man's face often. Before, Cloud struggled under the weight of guilt, rage, and confusion. To see him eagerly smiling with a twinkle of nauseating delight in his Mako-glowing eyes sabotaged Vincent's carefully constructed calm. In fact, he chose not to respond. Instead, he continued to examine Cloud and Tifa's expressions. They exchanged a guarded glance, and Vincent crossed his arms.
"Vincent, you haven't seen a woman with curly auburn hair have you?" Tifa asked. "Natalie Long is her name. She's a scientist writing an article on the progress the planet's made since . . . well, since Sephiroth was beaten."
Vincent remained quiet, wondering if they understood the true reason Natalie Long made Nibelheim her temporary home.
Tifa absently pulled at the hem of her short black skirt. "I was just wondering if you'd seen her. She did such a good job on the interview . . . I . . . I hoped we could get together . . . some time . . . maybe."
Cloud shook his head, smirking as he draped an arm protectively around Tifa's shoulders. "Come on, Vincent. Give us a break. Have you seen her or not? It's not like we're asking you for your personal feelings on the matter."
Vincent's eyebrow twitched before he said, "She's in the basement lab."
Cloud straightened, arm dropping from Tifa's shoulders. "What? Why in the hell did you let her go down there? It's dangerous!" He charged into the Mansion. The door slammed closed behind him.
Tifa stared after him, wide brown eyes blinking. "Now, why in the world would he say it's dangerous?"
"Perhaps due to the fact Hojo left an experiment running?"
"Those cylinders? They can't be all that dangerous."
"In regards to Hojo, one never knows."
Tifa focused again on the Mansion, leaning her hands against the gate without opening it. She released a deep breath. "Vincent, I know you don't usually talk about the stuff that happened to you, but . . . but when you did, didn't it make you feel better?"
Vincent leaned his b
ack against the gatepost as he crossed his arms. "It did," he admitted.
She continued to watch him. "I don't get it. Why have you been hiding in the basement for so long? Didn't you want to be involved in everything that's been going on out here? Didn't you want to be around your friends for the celebration of a new beginning?"
"Friends?"
"Yes, Vincent. Friends. I'd like to think that's what we are." She smiled. "After all, we've put up with your gloomy attitude with patience, for the most part. We helped you find Lucrecia's tomb, or whatever it was, so that you could put some of the guilt away. We asked you to become a part of our team . . . no, our family because we knew we could help each other." She turned to lean her back against the gate, tapping her heel on the dusty ground. "We don't ask for a lot in return. We just want you to open up a little. We're all worried about you."
"I am out. Is that not enough?"
"But for how long?" Tifa peeked over at him. "We liked having you around. You were always interesting company. On those long nights when none of us could sleep, you told some of the best stories of Shinra and the Turks. Sure, you almost never talked about yourself, but that was fine. Why is it so hard to do that now? Just because the world isn't in mortal danger?"
Vincent clenched his jaw and straightened, tossing his red cape over his shoulder as he turned for the gate. Tifa moved out of the way. "I'm doing my best." And he could sense her surprise at his response. She hurried to walk beside him. "That coffin is what I know. The nightmares are my entertainment. To give that up so quickly . . . it isn't so easy for a stubborn soul bent on his own destruction."
"So, why are you out now? May I ask?"
But such was a question even Vincent hadn't had the courage to voice. "Perhaps . . . perhaps I still search for something."
Tifa inclined her head. "I can understand that, actually. I was once there myself. I think I still am." She stopped him with a hand on his arm, holding his gaze when he shifted his focus. "Just be patient with yourself. Not all questions can be answered at once. Some take time. Some hurt. Some will make you angrier than you've ever been. Give yourself a break, though. It's not easy to do this."
"Do what?" Intrigue arched an eyebrow.
She smiled. "Do whatever it is you're doing. Trying to find whatever you've lost. Be patient. That's the best advice anyone could give you."
Vincent examined her, and then he turned away. "Yes. I believe it is."
A Rose By Any Other Name Page 1
