Hands

By: Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-

Author Notes: This story was written for La Editor for The Genesis Awards' "The Opposite Fic Exchange" thread. I want my damn Weiss/Nero soon, dammit.

NOTICE: This was betaed by the beautiful and talented T. Costa. Thank you, Costa! I heart you!

Hands

She wants to hold his hand, but can't.

Yuffie looks over her shoulder, a bit of hair flying in her face. She sighs and bites her bottom lip in concentration (it's hard to ignore him, Yuffie thinks,) her eyes avoiding his. Vincent doesn't like the simple things in life; things like dancing in the rain, eating ice cream, watching bad movies just to say that they did something together on a boring Friday night where there's no treasure to be found or moping to be done. He doesn't understand why she wants him to hold her hand, because it's not something that she should need to explain. So she doesn't.

He's standing there, his back against Seventh Heaven's wall, staring out into the the emptiness of the boulevard. He's not being emotional, and Yuffie wants to think he's dead. He's got no emotions.

Vincent looks heavy, like that cloak is dragging him down to the ground.

Something would be better than nothing, and if he was yelling or moping she would know if he was feeling something. She says something and he only grunts—it wasn't important, anyway. She pretends not to hear him, and he pretends he can't hear her. That's how it always ends.

And she wants to hold his hand, and she wants him to hold her hand, because if he's not feeling anything then she shouldn't either.

Something isn't always better than nothing, because at least with nothing she doesn't feel like she did something wrong.

Marlene's a big girl now, almost eight. Her daddy still hasn't told her about how ugly the world is, and Aunt Tifa still sits at the bar and waits for Cloud to get home from hiding out in the Flower Girl's church. Uncle Cid still curses when he's drunk, and Mister Reeve still likes to make little Cait Sith's (she got one for her birthday, and he likes to sleep curled up next to her.) Red still lives in Cosmo Canyon, and is studying the stars and the Lifestream. Miss Elena, Tseng, Rude and Reno still like coming in for drinks after work, and Mister Shinra still doesn't like Reno drinking and then skipping work the next morning.

Marlene isn't still little girl Marlene, so she notices that Aunt Yuffie and Uncle Vincent aren't acting normal. Yuffie isn't smiling, hasn't been smiling for a few weeks now, and Marlene hates it. Did Uncle Vincent do it to her? Marlene isn't sure, but she knows that if he did he probably didn't mean it, like Cloud doesn't mean to hurt Tifa.

Marlene watches and waits, and she sees that Yuffie's hand keeps reaching out grabbing for Vincent's cloak. She never makes it.

And she knows what she needs to do, because she's the only one who can. She's growing up, and they aren't.

Vincent pretends that when he goes inside of the bar he can't see Marlene staring at him with wide, pensive eyes. She's a good girl, but right now he doesn't want to talk to her.

He asks Tifa for something to drink, anything that she can grab. It's some kind of whiskey that tastes like Yuffie's homemade cooking—an acid at the back of his throat that makes his eyes water.

He still cooks, and she doesn't touch his pans.

There are little bits of Yuffie sprinkled around his apartment like confetti after a birthday party or New Years'. A toothbrush here, a strand of hair there, a sneaker without a sole and little kunai hidden under the bed. Vincent asked her a few weeks ago why they were there, and Yuffie didn't want to answer. He still wants to know, but Yuffie doesn't seem like she's in the mood to answer.

Marlene sits next to him, her legs swinging around the bar stool. She says something, and Vincent looks at her.

"Are you and Aunt Yuffie fighting?" Marlene asks.

Vincent grunts. "No."

"Because she seems really upset," Marlene continues on, pretending that she didn't hear Vincent's answer. He tries again, but she speaks too quickly, with child-like enthusiasm. "She's been sad and I think she wants to hold your hand. I've never seen you hold her hand and isn't that what boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to do?"

"I did not know that I had any girlfriend to begin with."

Marlene's eyes go wide. "How could you noy know? Isn't Aunt Yuffie living with you? Aren't you two dating?"

"Are Cloud and Tifa dating?" Vincent asks, trying to show the girl that people can live together without being in a relationship. Those two were in a rat wheel going nowhere.

"But Tifa wants to; Cloud just keeps running away," the girl answers. "Like you! You keep running away, but I know that she wants to date you. Don't you want to date her? Or do you have a Flower Girl that you want to be faithful to? Like Cloud and Aeris."

Aeris.

Lucrecia.

"I did, once."

"Then do what Cloud can't. Aeris isn't here, your Flower Girl isn't, either. But Aunt Yuffie is." Marlene's face draws into a deep frown.

"The world does not work like th--"

"You're not listening, Uncle Vincent," the girl says, and wags her finger in front of his nose. "I talk, you listen. And what are you doing here anyway? Aunt Yuffie doesn't want to sit outside and watch all the sad people come in here. You shouldn't be here, go home."

And Marlene jumps off her seat and snatches away Vincent's glass. Tifa looks over with sadness in her eyes, and Vincent knows that what Marlene says is true, and that this bar isn't home.

Yuffie hears the rustle of Vincent's red cloak (he hasn't been wearing it very much this year, maybe he's finally realizing it went out of fashion decades ago) and turns to look at the bar. He went, she followed. That's how their days go. But she doesn't want to follow him to the bar anymore. She doesn't even want to look in and see how miserable anyone is, because she wants to be miserable on her own, without anyone looking over her shoulder and into the cup she was drowning in.

He's standing there, and his cloak is hanging off his arm. The metal hand is gone and his headband is hidden somewhere under the couch at home. He looks... not different, because Yuffie knows that Vincent can't be anyone else but Vincent... but he seems lighter somehow. Maybe it was taking off that red cloak, maybe it was whatever he drank inside the Seventh Heaven.

She wasn't going to say happy, but it was endearing.

And when he grabs her hand and pulls her up, she smiles.

He doesn't let go.

Marlene watches from the window. Vincent drapes his cloak around Yuffie's shoulders and their hands are still together.

At least someone listens, she thinks.

Please Review!