A/N: Alright, chapter one! YAY! Fight scene? Kinda. Please note- it's been a while since I've written any action scenes, so bear with me if I'm the tiniest bit rusty. I've been thinking about doing some art for this story, because I have some scenes planned in my head that are just too much fun to pass up. If I get any done, I'd love to share it with y'all on my own website. However, since I suck majorly with html coding and stuff, (mmm… stuff…) I might just open up a Side7 account. I'll tell y'all if I do. Oh dear lord… I'm saying "y'all" again… Oh well. Read on and enjoy!!!

Disclaimer: Square-Enix owns FFVII. There! I said it! But just so ya' know, I own this particular story. I also own Governor, his wife, Lyri, Endin, and anyone else I throw in there, so NYAH! XP. If, for some strange reason, you want to borrow them, go on and be my guest. But I would like it if you e-mailed me, just so I could read your story.

My Funny Valentine

By hoheehum

Chapter 1: Martyrs, Not Heroes

Cloud eyed the podium in apprehension, waiting for the man speaking before him to finish. The words of the report he had received earlier ran almost comically through his head. "We have reason to believe there may be several assassination attempts…"

There may be? I'm damned certain that's exactly what's gonna happen. And what's with "several"? Several my foot! More than "several" people walked in here armed with long-range weapons openly brandished… As if daring us to do something! No, thanks. Really. I'd love to bash your head in right now, but I think I'm gonna wait and take care of this as tactfully as possible, thanks, he thought spitefully, but, please, by all means, do continue trying to goad us on. I mean, how could the people who defeated Sephiroth possibly survive against a bunch of angry civilians with rifles?

mayexactlyseveralSeveralseveraldaringlovehe thought spitefullydopossibly

He sighed. Oh… I can't be angry with them… He thought about his one sided conversation with Vincent, and immediately Cloud's shoulders sagged.

Of course they're trying to kill me- I'm taking away their lives

Across the makeshift stage, previously a platform used for the loading and unloading of energy cells within the reactor, several members of the otherwise disbanded AVALANCHE were gathered.

Reeve was missing, gone as the President of the Converged Nations to cities and towns across the globe, hoping to help them prepare for the "Great Darkening," (as the media called it). The inactive Cait Sith rested bunched into a corner of the stage, just in case the President found a spare moment and decided to make an appearance.

Cid, along with Shera and the crew of the Highwind, was on said airship, bussing Reeve to and fro, and taking in those who had a desperate need for the small supply of stored energy the Highwind had to offer. What seemed to be whole hospitals were now clamoring about the vessel, testing the limits of Cid's patience, as the man attempted to do a good deed.

Barret was in Corel, trying to quiet the riots there with his massive presence, and Marlene was with Aeris' adoptive mother on the Highwind. Elmira said her third eye would allow her to tend for the ill and mind the little girl at the same time. No one doubted it.

Forcing his mind back to his body (with some difficulty), Cloud peered around. Despite the assurances of Tifa, Red XIII and Yuffie, as well as his own "tough guy" boastings (and the fact that, while no one was certain of his intentions, Vincent's presence seemed to suggest that he would help if called upon), he couldn't keep from worrying that one of the shots fired might hit its target.

Yuffie had her Shuriken drawn, and Tifa a large chunk of mastered "Barrier" materia. Red XIII, Cloud observed, had a new headdress, one of slender but sturdy strips of metal sashed together by thin wire threading, in a manner akin to the weaving in chain mail. The separate pieces were allowed to dangle freely so that their sharp edges could bewhipped effortlessly at an enemy, while at the same time it was clear the great cat had naught but to twirl his head and the device would form something like a metal halo about him.

Neat, Cloud thought absently, before his attention was brought at last to Vincent.

He stood in the corner opposite the seemingly comatose Cait Sith with an unreadable (par usual) glint in his eyes. He was armed, twice over, with the sinister-looking Death Penalty at his left in the metal prosthesis, and arevolver in the hand at his right.

Despite his relief that the acutely perceptive enigma was looking out for him, Cloud couldn't help worrying that the ex-Turk would take to shooting people out of the audience, which would be bad. And, of course, it was very unlikely good ol' Vincent would suddenly open up on cue and give Cloud another possible use for a gun. Which, of course, he did not.

Cloud heard a noise behind him, and, turning, saw Tifa, widening her eyes at him expectantly. The other speaker was finished.

Oh. Right. Podium. Great. He nodded understanding and looked back to his destination. Forcing his shoulders back and his chin up, Cloud trudged forwards with falsely confident steps and took his place behind the dais…

… And then came the rolling patter of gunfire; it almost drowned out the ambiguous roar of the crowd that greeted him. Seemingly thousands of tiny explosions leapt from the depths of the audience. All Cloud had time to do was draw his sword as a makeshift shield.

A faint glimmer appeared around the stage, and an entire wave of bullets dropped out of midair, before the barrier blinked and faded from existence, and Cloud knew it would be a moment before Tifa could will up another one.

Something silver glinted past his nose, knocking several bullets from a lethal trajectory before returning to its owner to be thrown again. The warrior was reluctantly admitting his relief that Yuffie took his side when another unidentified "silver something," attached to a large red blur, assumed a position at his left.

The sharp edges of Red's headdress severed dozens of the small projectiles into halves with a loud "PFINK!" while at the same time billowing out to simply intercept other bullets mid-glide. The cat then leapt away as quickly as he had come.

The most notable occurrence, however, was the mysterious combustion of a large number of the tiny objects for no apparent reason. Cloud looked curiously about the stage, acquiescing to the idea of waiting out the hail of bullets for the simple reason that he was not equipped to fend off their incoming, and finally his eyes came to rest of Vincent.

Both guns were raised and obviously in use, and it seemed he pointed in no particular direction before firing. But then, as time passed, Cloud continued watching Vincent with one eye, and the pattern of bullets bursting in midair with the other, and came to a startling conclusion.

Nobody can do that, he reasoned, not even Vincent.

Well actually, his mind amended without Cloud's intending it to do so, if there was on person on the face of this planet who could pull it off, it'd be Vincent.

, his mind amended without Cloud's intending it to do so, .

He was shooting the bullets out of midair.

After what seemed like far too long for an eternity (in truth, it was only about 35 seconds) the gunfire ceased. Another barrier rose belatedly, though Cloud thought it may yet be needed, and it seemed the whole world was gasping for breath as one in that instant.

The bumbling man who had been at the podium before Cloud - an outspoken candidate for the continued use of Mako as an energy source, know simply as "Governor" - stood slowly beside the mercenary, trembling in abject terror.

He was a pleasant man, despite his sturdy opposition to AVALANCHE's cause, and the group had grown fond of him and vice-versa. He had a slight stutter, but despite his disadvantage he had continued on bravely to become known as an incredible speaker.

More often than not, behind the scenes he was engrossed in friendly debate with AVALANCHE. These debates were characterized by shouting and huffing and a bit of biting (namely Tifa taking a nip at Cloud's hand- with which he had mistakenly attempted to cover her mouth in a flurry of impatience) and the eventual resigned nods from both sides. Even Vincent seemed to mildly enjoy the boisterous, energized atmosphere these occurrences provided, and had, much to everyone's surprise, added his own comments a precious few times. To say something about Vincent, he was always polite, never interrupting, but did not wait for a break in activity that he would have to end with his voice alone. When he spoke, he was quiet but firm, and once the crew finally adjusted to the idea that Vincent does in fact have opinions, they no longer paused in shock after he spoke, instead snatching up his statement and dissecting it as they would any other, then they would add it to their pile of topics, and continued to build from there.

At the conclusion of these tussles, Governor would invite the company to his place for dinner, casting away the protests of "let one of us take it for tonight!" by assuring them his wife had a new recipe she wanted to try on them.

The meals they had there were always stupendous, thanks to his wife's knack with anything edible, and the presence of his children was always enjoyable.

Lyri, the older of the two at about twenty-five, was currently a nurse, but in a month or so she would trek to Cosmo Canyon to earn her Doctorate in medicine. She hoped someday to open a medical practice in Junon, or perhaps Rocket Town.

His youngest, Endin, had successfully made a pal out of Marlene, and it lightened everyone's spirits to see that the two were entirely smitten. It helped alleviate the many concerns over Marlene's otherwise lonely childhood.

Both Lyri and Endin were keen upon extracting as many adventure stories from AVALANCHE as possible, and the group was more than willing to cater to their curiosity.

"Oh! Oh!" Lyri would exclaim, her family's thick South-City Midgar accent tweaking her words, "Ah heard that y'all went through the Nibel Mountains!"

"But ar'n-ere dragons in theah?" Endin would immediately catch on and urge AVALANCHE to talk.

"N-now you two," their father would always say with a grin, "let the poor people eat some! You keep them talkin' this way all n-night, and they's'all starve t'theah deaths ovah mah good table. An' Ah won't be havin' that, y-y'heah?"

One memorable night he made this speech, then forked a piece of his filet and waved it at where Vincent sat to his left in mock reprimand. "'Sides," he drawled, before swallowing the steak and leaning back in his chair contentedly, "I ain't seen sk-kinny heah eat a damn thing!" He clapped a heavy paw on Vincent's back, startling the younger-looking man and earning a bout of laughter from AVALANCHE, who, prior to this, had never seen their quiet comrade caught off his guard.

"'S right time y-you lightened up, Twig - an' I don't mean yer skin, 'cause if ya lightened that anymore you'd-uh turn invisible! I mean ain't nobody heah gonna b-bite y'z fer bein' human!" With that, Governor wrapped one trunk-like arm around Vincent's neck, and fussed up the gunman's long hair in something like a noogie with his free hand.

This, of course, launched the whole of AVALANCHE (well, minus Vincent) into convulsions of laughter, to the sound of which Vincent gently pried himself free of the larger man's grip and recovered his composure. He straightened his red overcoat with an unconscious movement of his real hand, and his hair fell dutifully back into order without so much as a swipe through. The only thing even slightly askew was his hair band, which, loosened, spilled malachite strands into the man's face; but Vincent was too much a gentleman to fuss with his hair at the dinner table, so he simply brushed as many strands as he could behind his ears in one quick motion, and returned both hands to his lap.

Any resentment, or, perhaps, amusement, was hidden as he nodded somberly and spoke. (For, you see, his gentlemanly nature decreed he not seem ungrateful to any whose intentions were good, thought their means of expressing them may not be the most "Vincent Compatible").

"Yes. Thank you."

Was there a hint of sarcasm in his tone?

Apparently their host thought so, as he gave a loud guffaw and smacked his knee.

At the present, however, Governor's friendly demeanor had dissolved in favor of wide eyes and trembling hands. But to his credit, he turned back to the microphone, shaking and all, his stutter more pronounced in his terror, and drew a long, choppy breath before speaking.

"Y-y'z all j-jus' wanna - wanna put -ah - putcher g-guns - ah, ah - down n-n-n-now. The-these f-fahn young-uns heah - they's all-ah m-made o' t-tougher stuff, y-y-y'heah?"

Before making a rattled departure from the stage, he gave a courteous nod to AVALANCHE, and muttered to Vincent as he passed, "Y-you's a mighty good-ah sh-shot, Skinny, m-mighty good."

Cloud would never know whether or not Vincent answered the man.

At another polite cough from Tifa, he faced the podium once more.

It seemed too soon to say anything. Too soon to open his mouth to breathless lungs filled with words too powerful to be resting on his shivering lips. Far too soon.

How can I do this?

He was almost relieved when he heard a noise behind him.

Almost.

"Cloud!" It was Tifa again. "Something was hit!" whirling around, he saw the source of the problem.

A portion of the reactor, a metal sheet forced out for some unknown purpose, had a hole in it a little larger than a bullet, and Cloud winced as a vacant rippling of the world caddy-corner that opening foretold some sort of gas leakage.

Then, startled by a flash of crimson in the corner of his eye, Cloud looked up to see Vincent, apparently trying to get a better look at the damage, standing beside him. The man's eyes inspected the perforated edges of the leak for a moment longer before he said, without looking at Cloud, "Gas main." He sounded urgent. Or, as urgent as one can with a voice entirely devoid of tone. Cloud felt something cold and wet lick his spine. "Leave." With a nod of his head, Vincent indicated the audience, and Cloud didn't hesitate to assume he meant to evacuate the entire reactor.

Resolutely, he turned back to the microphone (which he found off, though he was not sure how it had come to be that way) and spoke.

"It appears a stray bullet struck something in the reactor that could cause us trouble." Please don't panic! "We don't believe the damage is very serious, but just to err on the side of caution, I'm going to ask you all to calmly evacuate the premises." I sound like a bad flight attendant, he thought sourly. 'Excuse me, ladies and gentleman, no need to panic, the wing is not on fire, the captain would just like to know if anyone here happens to have a role of duct tape. I repeat, the wing is not on fire.'

He flicked the microphone back off, realizing it might have been Vincent who had done so, wisely, the first time.

"How bad is it?"

Vincent only lowered his chin, letting his hair hide his face.

"Cloud, we'd better make sure everyone gets out of here- including us. And fast. This… could be very serious," Tifa concluded, looking torn between frustration and terror, before returning her attention to the damage.

Red XIII examined the puncture as well, but then bowed a long, determined gaze at Cloud, who took it for the warning it was and nodded.

"Yuffie, get yourself down to the main exit as fast as you can - use every ninja "gotta-move-fast" technique known to man to get there."

"Sir yes sir!" the girl said before vanishing.

Cloud continued. "The rest of you, get to a spot where you can get out quickly yourselves, and then make sure the out flow stays fast and steady, got it? I'm gonna stay here and see if I can… postpone any… explosions, or anything. Okay?" They each exchanged serious looks before a simultaneous, business-like nod, and turned to their separate tasks.

Cloud was surprised to find Vincent in his way.

"Uh… Vincent, you should-"

"Go," the taller man interrupted.

Cloud blinked. "Yes. Uh, well, I mean, yeah, you shoul-"

But he was cut off again by a patient but intense stare from Vincent. "No - you go. I will stay," he clarified.

"Uhm, Vincent…" he paused, then mentally smacked himself when he realized he was waiting for the other man to give an explanation. And again, when Vincent, indeed, did not. "Vince, you-"

"No time. If you will, then move quickly."

"…Right." Vincent was already toying with a computer console, possibly attempting to isolate the leak and cut off the supply of gas entering the chamber, all hopefully before the system overheated.

Finally, Cloud gave only a brief moment more to hovering beside Vincent in curiosity before darting off to help while he still could.

Though many people had been successfully pulled from the reactor, there were still far, far too many left to go when Cloud heard the telltale sounds of a not-distant-enough explosion.

He had only a second to worry what had become of Vincent before fire licked down the hallway behind him, and forced a run for the rest of the way to the door - for those who did make it out.

Please pay a visit to your dear friend the "Review Button" before you depart! Thank you!

5:47 pm

Chapter posted: 1/2/2004