Soldier Boy

. o .

They were two of the strangest people he had ever met, and in his line of work, Zachary Deschamps liked to think that if he hadn't seen it all, he had to be getting awfully close to that point.

He'd met the boy only a couple of months ago – wide-eyed sixteen, and damn more impressionable than any soldier had the right to be. When the ensign had showed up the morning after they had first met with his hair in tall blond spikes that looked eerily similar to his own, Zack hid his smile until the training session ended, and then had called the junior officer over. Without much more than a friendly greeting, he grabbed the kid in a headlock and tousled his carefully styled coif. No longer able to hide his amusement as the ensign spluttered in protest, Zack's cheerful laughter rang out in the training room. Stepping back to admire his work, Zack grinned. "It looks better mussed, Ensign. Trust me, the ladies'll think so." As the blond scuffed his boot and looked away, Zack's grin widened. "'Course, there could always be a certain girl you've got your eye on, huh?"

Though his blue eyes were distant, the soldier's tone was even. "I'm sure she's forgotten about me already, sir, or she will have by the time I go back. I – I promised to become a SOLDIER for her, but I haven't even passed the entrance exam yet."

"Scrawny thing like you?" Zack's expression turned speculative. "I guess I see their point. But with me as your C.O., we'll see if we can't get you ready by the next exam – how's that sound?"

"Sir?"

Zack shook his head. "Zack'll do just fine when we're training, Strife – nothing against the system, but 'sir this' and 'sir that' makes me feel like I'm fifty." He paused in thought. "You have a first name, kid?"

"Cloud, sir."

The brunet could only stare. "Strife, you're pulling my leg. Fluffy, up-in-the-sky cloud? And what'd I say about the 'sir' thing?"

"It's my name, si – Zack."

"Better. And hell, fair enough, Strife – it's not like you had any say in it, hey? Still, Cloud Strife's one hell of a name. Your parents were poets?"

"Maybe, sir."

Shrugging, Zack slid into a fighting stance. "Hmm. Either way, time's a-wasting. Fight?"

And so they did. Cloud wasn't bad – a little impulsive, Zack noted, but nothing that military training wouldn't beat out of him. What killed the SOLDIER was that between the kid's bright hair and bright hopes, Strife was so damn young. But if that was the way that Shinra liked their soldiers – and it was – Zack figured it was no business of his to criticize the job that kept a roof over his head and with enough to spare to impress the girl.

And what a girl she was. Seventeen and stunning, but in a place like Midgar, that didn't mean much. There were prettier girls, and as a first-class SOLDIER, he'd met at least half of them. He couldn't quite put his finger on what made the flower girl any more interesting, but it lay somewhere between the ageless sparkle in her green eyes or the sheer fact that she had lived in one of the rougher parts beneath the 'Plate and still looked soft; beautiful, even.

It hadn't hurt that their first meeting had been everything short of explosive.

That had been almost half a year ago; he had finished his shift for the night, and was en route to one of the lower Sector bars. If he had already been drinking or if he was a more prosaic man, Zack probably would have complimented her on how she was a flash of colour – of life - in this damnably dingy part of town as she ran towards him. Then again, if he'd been a poet or a drunkard, it was likely that he wouldn't have been quick enough to pull her behind him and into the darker alleyway as gunfire sounded from behind her, one of the projectiles hammering uncomfortably close to his head as it smashed into the brick wall to his left.

The bastard, whoever he was, had just fired at him.

Eyeing the lurid green cartridge, which he recognized as a standard-issue tranquilization dart, Zack cursed as he saw a flash of telltale red hair from across the square. He knew that hairdo – it was so garish that it was hard to forget. On the upside, it looked like Reno was acting on his own, but the Turk's choice of weaponry piqued Zack's curiosity, as for most petty crime, enforcers tended to shoot with real bullets.

As a recruit, Zack had been told that it was simpler just to shoot to kill; all the studies showed that those who committed crimes tended to increase the scope of their offense until their actions were checked. Moreover, even if Shinra used a particularly final variety of keeping the peace, it wasn't as if anyone was opposing their establishment of martial law – the corporation had annexed itself with the Midgarian government years ago, and so Shinra's grunts were what passed for policing. There had been a couple of uprisings, of course, but nothing big. All things considered, it was odd that the Company had spared a Turk and specialized weaponry for the capture of a single girl.

That point was where this situation got really funny: tranq darts weren't used often because they were Shinra's way of saying "y'know, we don't want you dead yet, but we'll stick you in a coma 'til we do." Zack thought about that for a second. Comas meant time spent in the Science Department. The Science Department meant Hojo.

All things considered, the fewer people whom that particular scientist had to play with, the better off they'd all be.

Thus, he was happy to help this stranger for as long as he could, despite the fact that he could swear she'd just ripped through half of his shin with the heel of her boot. "Oy," he grunted, pulling her further from the streetlight as more shots were fired, "hang on! I'm not working with the guy shooting at you. Ow, woman. Honest."

Not at the moment anyhow, Zack added silently, ignoring the twinge in his leg and tugging on the girl's wrist to bring her out of the Turk's scope. Pretty or not, you're damned lucky that I'm still mad at Reno for when he switched my hair gel with extra-strength epoxy last Friday. Little bastard…

Once he was convinced that Reno had given up – slacker – and moved on (oddly enough, whistling as he retreated, but Zack had long held certain ideas on Reno's grasp on sanity and this only concreted them further), Zack looked at the young woman, expecting a grateful smile or perhaps if he was lucky, an enthusiastic embrace.

Zack certainly hadn't expected that he would be cheerfully conned into buying half of her basket of flowers, which, she pouted, had been ruined in their escape. The yellow and white blossoms looked just fine to him, and he said as much, trying to get in edgewise that the flowers might have been a little trampled, but he had been a little busy trying to save her life. When her smile didn't waver, he ran his hands through his hair and asked her if she knew exactly who was trying to shoot her down.

Once again she surprised him, her laughter curving her lips into a wide smile as she pushed the flowers into his arms. "Do you mean Reno?"

Zack felt his jaw drop. "You know him?"

"We eventually got around to names, so I suppose you could say so."

"So why are you still on the streets? Kid's a slob, but only when he doesn't have to be the best at what he does – and he is, don't get me wrong."

She backed away, her chin jutting defiantly. "I thought you said you weren't working with him."

"I happen to be off-duty, and owe him some payback. So count yourself lucky, hey?"

"Beyond words."

On the plus side, Zack noted, her hands have uncurled from the fists she'd made – correctly, too – someone has taught this girl a little about how to fight. Zack tried his most charming smile. "Reno and I don't work together so much as we're forced to co-exist in a building that is a lot smaller than it should be. But you haven't answered my question, flower girl."

Coyly this time, she raised her eyes to his. "Like you said, Reno can be a decently intelligent young man, so why would he alter a situation that works for both of us? I enjoy my freedom, he enjoys what service I can give, and Shinra really doesn't miss me."

Huh. He hadn't figured her for that type of girl, but these weren't the best times for those beneath the Plate. "You mean-?"

"Are you jealous?" she murmured suggestively, before ruining the effect by laughing. "It's nothing like that, silly. I've patched him up a time or two after a fight, and that's it. Apparently he enjoys my assistance more than a trip to the company medical ward. Though, Shiva knows, he tried a time or two before we got to know each other to really get to know each other."

Right, Zack decided. That's it. Nothing else she's gonna say or do is going to shock me.

Pity that in the time he had made that resolution, the she in question had palmed his wallet and was pulling out a fifty-gil note before his jaw could drop (again), much less form a coherent sentence. He wasn't getting slow, he swore. He had trained earlier today with the General and held his own. But here she was, dancing effortlessly around his reflexes. Not for the first time that evening, Zack wondered if it would have been better if he had been drunk before meeting her. This certainly would have been less embarrassing.

Sensing his discomfort, she smiled reassuringly. "For the flowers," she answered, shutting his jaw with a gentle hand. "I thank you for your generosity."

Zack eyed her with careful appreciation, as his hands were still holding the flowers, and he didn't want another bruise to accompany the one she'd already given his shin. "Under the circumstances, you're most welcome, little lady. I don't have anyone to give these flowers to, though, and it seems awfully selfish to keep them for myself."

"No wife?"

"How old d'you think I am?" Zack replied, surprised.

Aeris shrugged. "No girlfriend?" she pursued. "You look like the type that has girls hanging themselves all over you."

"Are you offerin'?"

Now that smile of hers was positively wicked, he decided, as she moved closer and closer still; near enough that her chest brushed the flowers that he held. "You're ridiculous," she murmured, raising her hand slowly. "You couldn't keep up with me in the first place, silly." Poking playfully at his shoulder, she spun away…

…and was reeled back as Zack grasped her hand, transferred the bouquet into the crook of one arm and spun a very surprised young woman under the other. "You were saying?" Zack teased, matching her smile.

"Not bad," she conceded.

"I think I deserve a prize," he replied mischievously. "How about you give me your name? It's the least I deserve, to know the name of the girl whose life I so bravely saved, hey?"

Leaning gently into his side, she reached up to the bow that held her hair in a high ponytail. "A ribbon of valor I'll give you," she smiled, pulling out the bow from her hair and tying the ribbon around the flowers he held. "But no name. Please understand."

Zack grimaced. "Sure."

Shaking her head, Aeris' hand traced the edge of her ribbon. "You misunderstand, soldier. You've proven you can catch me," she said, tapping the arm that rested around her shoulders before spinning away again. She was successful this time, and, back in her element, the flower girl's smile widened. "Will you be able to find me, I wonder?" With a wink and a wave, she was gone

And if he was the sort who believed in magic, he'd have said she disappeared.

Shaking his head, Zack turned around and took the tram back to his dark apartment, the bar forgotten for the night. He wasn't the mystical type: magic in his eyes was that of parlor tricks, or, more practically, whatever came out of those compressed Mako spheres that the Company gave him for missions deemed harder than usual. Still, as the sweet, unfamiliar scent of flowers drifted through his apartment that night, he wondered if he was starting to believe in its less practical side.

. o .

Six months later, he was sure of it – she was magical. Mischievous, sneaky, wise beyond her years, and enchantingly beautiful. She'd laugh and blush every time he called her those things and tell him just to call her Aeris.

He knew her name now, but she held secrets that he couldn't even guess at.

Zack didn't mind, really. Instead of dwelling on it, he ruffled her hair as she read, sprawled gracefully on the old window-seat in his apartment. Catching sight of her spare key on his table, he wondered, yet again, how she managed to dodge the ID checks on the train ride up, but dismissed those thoughts as he sat beside her.

Secrets were just a part of life in a city like Midgar: he had his own stories that he'd never share. He'd found this sunbeam of a girl, though she'd led him a pretty dance at first. Tomorrow could bring whatever it would; they didn't deceive themselves or each other that this was forever. He was a soldier and SOLDIER by trade and by choice; she refused to leave her mother and her home beneath the Plate.

Reno's visits to the lower sectors had increased in frequency as well, and the redhead had sent him surprisingly subtle communication to remind Zack that no-one else in Shinra should know of his involvement with Aeris. Zack had to agree with the Turk: only so many things could be laughed off or deflected by his SOLDIER status, and the flower girl was probably not one of them. Casting all thoughts of work and the Company from his mind, he relaxed against the cushions. There would be other times for thoughts like those…

"Room for two," Aeris yawned, moving closer to the window to give him space to stretch out his legs.

With an invitation like that, how could he refuse? Tucking an arm under Aeris' neck as she curled on her side, he joined his flower girl, nuzzling her collarbone fondly, laughing as she giggled and swept his hair away from where it had poked her in the chin. Offering a kiss in apology to the affronted body part, his smile grew as she placed the book she had been reading on the window sill and tilted his chin to meet her lips, her reading happily forgotten in favour of other pursuits.

As far as Zack was concerned, fluffy angels and annoying choirs could stuff it – this, he thought, was paradise.

. o .

(while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,

and kisses are a better fate

than wisdom

lady i swear by all flowers)

. o .

Sabriel's Scribbles: …something sweet for Halloween? Mmmkay, this one goes out to two very wonderful writers for very different reasons – to voodoobob on LJ, who I promised some Zack/Aeris fluff to ages ago, and to Celeste, who wanted some Shinra-era hijinks. Zack… was hard to pin down at first, really. But he is also a lot of fun - which means that this may be built upon once my finals are tackled. (I like reviews, particularly as these are new characters for me; what you liked, what could be improved – it's always good to hear back from readers. ) Lastly, this story does tie into the Believe arc, in particular to a comment Reno makes in the tenth part.

Disclaimer: The poem at the end is one of my favorites by e. e. cummings; the characters are not mine, either.