Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Revelations ❯ Surprises on the BoardWalk ( Chapter 5 )

Disclaimer; I do not own Final Fantasy VII, or any of its characters, etc.

Well, firstly, I hope you had a lovely christmas and I wish you all a happy New Year.

Secondly, I want to thank all the readers again for your wonderful reviews and your support. I am truly grateful that you are enjoying reading this story as much as I am writing it.

This chapter is dedicated to ALL the reviewers, KarateGal, FlamingInferno, fLy, Crimson Valkyrie, Misfire ( Thanks for the helpful nudge) and Coquettish Siren (Who I had pegged as a Yuffentine, so that was certainly a surprise, though a nice one.). But I want to give a special thanks thanks, this time, to Ichi-nana-hachi who left really kind comments per chapter.

And as one last comment, I will not be rushing this so don't worry about "Polaroid love", its one of my pet hates too. XD

I just had a thought while editing this, Chaos is naked. NAKED. I've never really thought about that before, strange.

Waow, thats going to leave me thinking for a while.

Chapter 5: Surprises on the Board Walk

1

He went left and she went right.

Tifa watched Vincent disappear behind the crowds, not once looking back. She realised that if he wanted, he could just leave her here and she would be none the wiser. It was a good way to avoid awkward goodbyes and left no obligation on his part to look after her until she got to Cid's. In a way, it sounded so utterly Vincent, but at the same time she could not imagine such an underhanded stunt from him. Tifa supposed it all came down to trust and asked herself; Can I trust him?

The answer, she knew, was that she would have to. `He wouldn't have come to find me if he was just going to leave me now,' she reasoned and headed into the centre of the market, still a little angry about the whole situation. Even if he does leave, I can look after myself. I'm not a little girl.

2

Vincent was right when he said there would be crowds. The centre road that ringed Junon's main buildings and businesses was littered with stalls and so many people Tifa was having trouble just scratching her nose. Making a path through the herds of excited children, impatient corporates, gossiping women and broadcasting traders she managed to spy a phone booth by the promenade.

Growling at the third person to bump against her arm, she fished out some gil and picked up the receiver.

Three rings later and Tifa was looking about albeit covertly. An uneasy feeling had prickled the hairs on her neck, either she was being watched or lack of sleep had made her paranoid.

“Hello?”

She jumped when the gruff voice of Barret boomed in her ear. “Barret?”

“Tifa? If your callin' again to check up, I already told ya the kid's wo' be fine. Or am I not good enough to look after my own daughter anymore?” His accusatory tone made her frown.

“No, no, Barret. I'm sure the kids are fine! And you know I wouldn't leave them with anyone else so stop being so damn huffy.”

“Well if it's not `bout the kids, what is it 'bout?” He replied in his usual impatient manner.

“Are the kids listening?”

“Yeah, why?”

Tifa was now eyeing a middle-aged man on the bench across from her. He was hiding behind his paper, but gave a few glances her way every so often. Turning round without letting him know she had been watching, she continued with false cheer, “They`d never forgive me if I phoned without saying `hi', so can you put them on a sec?”

“Yeah, one sec.” There was a loud beep, and the phone went to call waiting. Tifa rolled her eyes.

A few seconds later there was another beep, and Marlene's scolding voice in the background. “No Daddy, that button!”

Another beep. “Okay Tifa, the phone's on loudspeaker. Go ahead.”

“Hey kids! I hope your behaving for Barret, what's Costa Del Sol like?”

There was a drone of “We are Tifa.” and then an excited babbling from both at once. Tifa pulled the phone slightly from her ear. Denzel was saying something about fishing while Marlene was over exaggerating about a dead jelly fish she found on the shoreline.

“Wow, that good, huh? Well I really have to go now, so can you put Barret back on please? I`ll phone again soon, I promise.”

Another sequence of beeps, followed by Marlene showing her Dad the right buttons “for the umpteenth time.”

“Kid's gettin more like you every day Tifa. So what's up that ya couldn't say in front of Marlene and Denzel?” Barret might not have been the sharpest knife in the box, but he had an acute awareness of when he was being played. Usually it was only if money was involved though.

“So you sussed me, huh?” Tifa laughed nervously.

“You're a terrible liar Teef.”

“You can talk! Remember when I asked you not to let Cloud know about the surprise birthday party?”

“Alright, alright! Now what is it?” He sounded quite anxious to get away. Tifa frowned again.

“I lost my purse. There wasn't much gil but my I.D. was with it, so someone might phone to tell you, your numbers down with kids for emergencies.”

“That's it?” He sounded annoyed.

“Well I didn't want you all worrying something had happened!” She was getting annoyed with his impatience.

“Well is there anythin' else? Sounds like the kids`re bouncin' on the beds again.” He sounded panicked, and Tifa was now trying not to laugh loudly down the phone.

“Well, I'm going to be staying with Ci- our neighbourhood tea fiend for a while, so if you need me that's where I'll be.” She knew Vincent wouldn't be pleased that she told him where she was going, but Tifa didn't really care. Barret would most likely phone the bar for something; like how to mix up Denzel's favourite milkshake again or which trainers (as though the pink didn`t give it away) belonged to who. If he couldn't find Tifa at the bar then he'd know something was wrong.

“Right, yeah, well-” BANG. “Damn it!”

“Barret? Barret!” Tifa shouted into the phone, earning a few stares from the surrounding crowds. Oh God, what if ShinRa's-

“I'm here, I'm here! Gees` do ya have ta shout in my ear Teef?”

“What was that?”

“Marlene fell off the bed and thumped `er knee, now will you hurry up so I can go see to `er?”

“Well that's it really, I better go and let you see to Marlene. Make sure to use a plain plaster, the one's with the dinosaurs scare her. Bye.”

“For God's sake, she'll kick Vincent Valentine in the shin for ignoring her, but she's scared of bloody dinosaurs on a plaster? There are some things I'll never understand. Well, thanks, bye Teef.”

“Wait! One last thing!”

“What is it now?” To Tifa's delight he sounded really pissed off.

“Watch your mouth around the kid's,” she scolded.

There was a long sigh, followed by, “ Yeah, Yeah. Now I definitely know it's you Marlene's gettin' it from.”

The phone clicked and Tifa sighed, he had been too preoccupied with the kids to realise she wasn't telling him everything. Checking her watch, for the call had taken longer than expected, she realised there was still five minutes before she would have to join the queue for the boats. Looking around she spied a stand selling coffee and pastries, which was great for her grumbling stomach, but there was still no Vincent, which was not so great for her nerves. What did he need to get anyway? The ammunitions shop is on this side of Junon.

“What'll it be Miss?” When the tender was done wiping the bench, he looked up and made an undecipherable face at Tifa.

She noticed but continued, “One café au lait and two Choco-chocolate croissants please.”

After handing over the gil, the brunette shot the staring tender another dirty look and sat on a nearby bench; the bag of pastries around her wrist and a cup of coffee in the same hand. She could see the boat queue dwindling down from here as she ate and shot a worried look at her watch. What is Vincent playing at? It was now five past eight, if he didn't hurry up the boat would leave without them. It was only luck it had been held-back a while before docking.

The terrible thought that he had maybe left her came back, and she found that it soon became anger.

Another few minutes passed.That idiot! How dare he! Tifa was now gripping the edge of the bench so hard that the wood began to splinter. Realising there was no point in waiting, she secured the bag of half-croissants to her wrist and dropped the coffee cup in a bin on the way to the docks. She could get the boat on her own.

3

“Right. Bye.” Vincent waited until his companion rounded the corner before setting off down the back-alley towards the main street of Junon. He had five minutes to find Tifa and board before he got left behind, Tifa probably wouldn't wait for him if he was late.

The alley was shaded from the sunlight by several tall, stacked buildings on both sides. It was concealed well enough for its purpose, but now it produced a dangerous situation. Boxes, bins, skips and other large debris littered the narrow pathways, which, save for the odd stray cat or dog sniffing through trash, were completely devoid of life. The market had attracted away the usual thieves, mako addicts and dealers, and Junon mafia that generally populated this scummy labyrinth of back alleys and passages.

The quiet atmosphere was unsettling, and every few minutes something would rustle or squeak in the trash that edged Vincent ever-closer to the brink of firing Cerberus, who was once more comfortably nestled in his hand. In the other hand he bore a heavy package of brown paper and twine.

“Stop Valentine.”

And he did stop. But he also turned around.

“Drop the weapon.” A man in black fatigues, just as the others had been, stood not three feet from Vincent holding a rifle to his eye with both hands.

Vincent just smirked, “No.”

The man looked taken aback, and shifted slightly from one foot to the other before forcing aggression into his voice, “Drop it now, or-” He stopped when Vincent chuckled and chanced a step forward.

And another.

And another, until he was a dangerous foot away from the man who was now angrily leering.

“Or?” Vincent spoke quietly, edged with violent venom and darkest amusement, “Or you'll shoot me?”

“I will! Don't test me you twisted bastard!” The soldier proceeded to shake the rifle psychotically at him.

Again Vincent's sinful chuckles echoed in the small space.

“What's so funny, wise guy! I said drop the weapon!” He screamed angrily, almost foaming at the mouth with hatred.

“Which one?” He offered the bait.

The man looked confused, “What do you mean, `which one'? There only is fucking one!”

“Would like me to drop this one?” He dropped Cerberus loathingly to the floor.

“Or…?” There was momentary silence as they stared at one another.

Then the soldier's face contorted in horror.

The pale frame of Vincent's cheekbones twitched inhumanly and he unwillingly hunched over. Blood enflamed his body, saturated the leather. There were bone crunching cracks and snaps and the soldier knew whatever was tearing through from the inside would not be pretty.

And he was right.

Huge. A tower of muscle. Biceps like great redwoods, forearms like great lumpy columns and he didn't even want to look at the genitals.

Pidgeon chested, the arrogant posture of a great barbarian.

And there were wings, thin flaps of patchy, holy skin coated with a down of barbed hairs. They looked unfit to support the weight of a wind-blown leaf. So many bulbous veins knotted and gnarled around the branches of bones, like shrink-wrapped intestines. And yet they were so thin, so brittle, so breakable looking.

And the pulse was pumping through them like a thousand maggots squirming beneath the surface.

“Or this one?” The grumble sloshed through tingling, salivating fangs.

Engulfed with the winged sight, the soldier continued to stare, hypnotised by the blood-hungry gaze of what was once Vincent Valentine. Vincent Valentine, `the hardest bounty to collect for ShinRa', and now he knew why.

Vincent felt Chaos battling to overcome him, but his willpower was second to none when he thought of ShinRa. He felt his fangs throb with the need to rupture the quaking soldier's broad neck; the gritty hatred to gouge the widening eyes from his head and strip the pitted skin from his face.

He would enjoy this kill himself. He hated ShinRa. And he knew ripping this disgusting piece of it limb from limb would fill a hole of anger he couldn't satisfy.

It was so sinfully delicious.

4

Tifa stood on the deck, watching with increasing anger each and every passenger that filed aboard. The snot-nosed kid throwing a tantrum at her father, the pompous business man shunting an old lady from the queue as he tried to reach the rest of his group, and some greasy teenagers throwing stones at a stray dog on the dock below.

Feeling ready to explode as a guard walked past the blatant display of animal cruelty without so much as a glare at the offenders. When she was about to walk up and tell them all they should be ashamed of themselves, a hand landed on her shoulder.

Knowing instantly who it was, but jumping anyway, she snarled, “Vincent! What did I tell you about creeping up on me!”

He said nothing, looking neither amused nor apologetic but silently watched as her lips quaked with the deep breath she took.

Then she spoke almost too sweetly, “Where where you?”

“I got a little… held up. I`m sorry.”

He was sure she was about to unleash what he had come to call 'a woman's fury', (which usually left him fearing for only the safety of his eardrums), when a strange expression overtook her face. The red glow of her cheeks paled and she came closer to him. He instinctively stepped back.

“Vincent? Your face!” Tifa touched her cheek bone and pointed to him. There was three inch gash across his cheek oozing blackened blood.

He just looked puzzled, then touched his face. When the glove came away his fingertips where coated with sticky blood. Expecting a serious reaction, she looked confused when he just shrugged and wiped his glove on the crimson cloak that was billowing with the wind.

The brunette stepped closer to inspect the wound, gripping his wrist to stop him from fleeing the close proximity. She held his wrist (though it was painful with gunwound still unhealed.) the same way he had when he pulled through Edge, and his eyes stayed fixed to the limb as she fussed at the wound with the other hand. “It's so deep,” she whispered.

He wondered whether she could smell the blood from his breath. He could still taste it.

“It would have to be.” He looked her in the eye, and she had enough sense to take the hint and drop it. The subject and his arm.

“We should go inside, the boats leaving now.”

5

As they walked into the lounge Tifa noticed a passer-by who was quite obviously staring at her and Vincent. When they entered the café area a few seated occupants gave covert stares too. They took a booth in the corner, choosing to sit opposite each other. Tifa produced her bag and started nibbling on the croissants. She noticed Vincent watching her.

“What? …Oh, sorry, did you want some?” She thrusted half a pastry towards him, whilst awkwardly chewing the other.

“No. I just don't your allowed to eat that here.” He replied, opening a newspaper that was on the table and splaying it out in front of him.

“What are they going to do? Shoot me?” Tifa laughed, but stopped when she noticed the look on Vincent's face. He suddenly looked a whole lot paler, and startled, which was a first. “What?”

He looked back down at his paper, “Nothing.”

Knowing she wasn't going to get it out of him, Tifa continued eating, and trying to read his paper upside-down. Only several minutes passed before she spoke again. Though the silence was eating at her nerves again and leaving her too much time to think, she was sure the strange looks several seated passengers had given her were not paranoia.

Trying not to attract anymore attention she whispered across the table, “Vincent?”

He didn't look up and Tifa just rolled her eyes. “Vincent I think there are ShinRa here.”

“And why do you think that?” Vincent already knew there where none on boat, he had watched carefully as each passenger boarded. She seemed to always underestimate his Turk background severely, training with Bergen had sharpened his skills to perfection and they had not grown soft over the years.

“I keep noticing certain people staring at us. Like that man, to the left, with the bowler hat; the one in the grey suit. They must be waiting for us to get off the boat.”

“That's not why they are staring.”

She looked confused, “Then why-”

“Your face is covered in bruises.”

That's when it clicked like a slap to the face. All those stares weren't because they were contemplating various means of abduction but because she looked like a human punch-bag. So she was being paranoid. Now she was glad Vincent's face was still buried in the paper.

Vincent watched as Tifa lay down across the cushioned seat, still avoiding her left arm. She won't be able to use it yet, he thought as he glanced at the package on his knee. He spent the next few moments watching her wriggle as she slept and then reached across to drape his cloak across her. He was too warm.

He looked at the parcel again and wondered if she'd be any good. Perhaps, this could be more hazardous than helpful.

For the rest of the journey Vincent continued to read an article on Rufus ShinRa's reformation of character. The cynicism he earned only through experience showed through in his eyes as he read each word.

…Rufus ShinRa, former president of the ShinRa conglomerate, has shown a remorseful side today with his announcement to sponsor and build a new solar energy plant in each town and city that was affected by the loss of mako energy…

Since when did a ShinRa have a conscience? A lack of morals was something consistently inherent in every ShinRa Vincent had known, so he was not so gullible as to believe such a fairytale. Perhaps when he was younger, his naïve attempts to see the best in everyone would have blinded him to the truth. The truth that ShinRa where still active behind the scenes and that this stunt was just some kind of mass cover-up.

Fungus, he thought and closed the paper in disgust.

6

Two hours later, the announcement that they had arrived was made. Tifa was still asleep. Vincent was looking warily at her, deciding which way to wake her.

“Tifa.” The noise of the passengers droned out his voice, so he walked over to the other side of the table, box still in hand. Reaching down, he almost felt bad for waking her, at least the bruises on her face had faded slightly more. When his hand brushed her shoulder, she looked sleepily at him and stood up, croaking, “Are we there?”

He nodded.

“Thanks Vincent.” She gave him a meaningful look and he got the distinct impression she was thanking him for more than just waking her. Maybe for the lend of his cloak. But he only gave her it because he was too warm wearing it, gratitude was unnecessary.

They departed the boat, Tifa still with the cloak wrapped around her and Vincent still carrying the brown-paper box. It was mid-afternoon, and Vincent supposed Tifa would be pleased to know Cid was waiting for them with his airship. He had made one last phone call before leaving Junon. Cid, who had just only returned from Cosmo Canyon, was only too pleased to have a drinking partner available again. At least one that provided him with a bit of a challenge.

Vincent smirked, remembering their last binging session, when Cid, deciding he wanted some tea at four o'clock in the morning, almost blew the espresso machine apart. Vincent let a covert yawn escape his lips, he was quite tired himself and was looking forward to whatever drinking game Cid would engineer this visit.

As they continued along the boardwalk of Costa Del Sol, neither noticed the man in the bowler hat and grey suit produce a cell phone, slowly tracing their steps from a safe distance.