(This little bit of fic deals with what IMHO is the most underrated couple
in Final Fantasy 7--Cid and Shera. I have tried to do the lemony parts as
tastefully as possible--I'm not much of a lemon merchant however, so bear
with me.)

Seven Days

by Sailor Solathei, aka Sarah Trout
---------------

"Rocket City's just up ahead, Captain."

"Great." Cid finished throwing the few belongings he'd brought on the
journey back in his knapsack and slung it over his shoulder. "Now listen to
me, kid. After you drop me off, you take Barret up to see his kid, take
that damn cat wherever he wants to go, then I want y'all all to go home."

"But--"

"Don't 'but' me, butt-head! I want all your happy asses off this airship."
Cid flicked the smoldering butt of his cigarette over the rail of the
Highwind, sighed, and continued. "Look. You guys have done a hell of a fine
job here. And if we get out of that cave up North alive, I'm gonna buy you
all a lifetime supply of cold ones. But I don't wanna ask you to go up
there with us. It's too damn dangerous. You get your butts off this ship
and go home. Hear?"

"Sir--"

"Look, don't piss me off now! I said go home! Don't argue with me, son!"

The young pilot looked at his comrades, shrugged, and looked back at Cid.
"Yessir." He wasn't about to argue the point further, but the fact was,
they -were- home.

By estimate of Shinra scientists, the world had one week left before it was
smashed into so much aquarium gravel by Meteor. Seven days. That was what
Cid figured his lifespan was going to be; even less if Sephiroth had his
way. God, there was still so much he wanted to do with his life. Cloud had
ordered everyone off the airship to visit their families and friends and
loved ones, and at present only Cid, Cait Sith, and Barret were left. Red
XIII was in Cosmo Canyon. Cloud and Tifa were off running around being all
lovebirdy and shit, Cid guessed. Yuffie had gone home to Wutai (and had
probably taken a few of the party's Materia with her; Cid hadn't cared
enough to check at this point). Even Vincent had found somewhere to go; as
usual, he didn't tell a soul what it was he had planned, he'd just slipped
quietly off the airship at Nivelheim and walked off in the direction of the
old Shinra mansion. Cait Sith really didn't have anywhere to go; the guy
controlling him was locked up at Shinra, and a big-assed stuffed animal
with a cat riding around on its back would have hardly been a mundane sight
to security had he tried to use the robot to bust out. Cid snickered in
spite of himself as he watched said stuffed animal bouncing around the
bridge of the Highwind.

"Hey, cat." Cid waved Cait Sith over. "I been wanting to ask you something
for a while now."

"What's that?"

Cid grinned. "What the hell were you smoking when you came up with that
body of yours?"

Cait shot him an "I-am-soooo-amused" look and opened his mouth to reply,
when the young pilot announced that the airship was landing outside Rocket
City. 

"Here's my stop," Cid muttered, picking up his bag. "Barret, say hi to
Marlene for me."

"Sure thing." Barret clapped Cid on the back. "You tell that woman of yours
we said hello too, okay?"

Cid flinched almost imperceptibly as he realized Barret was referring to
Shera. "Yeah."

Barret, however, didn't pick up on Cid's momentary discomfort, and turned
to Cait Sith. "Where you headed, Shinra boy?"

"Well, since my real body's sort of tied up at the moment and I don't have
much of a chance of busting it out, I figured I'd head up to the Gold
Saucer...spend my life's savings before the world ends and all." Cait Sith
patted the fat bag of gil held by the stuffed Mog he rode on.

"An' what you gonna do if the world DOESN'T end?" Barret snickered. "Not
like you're gonna be able to go back to work for Shinra now."

"Well, I suppose I'd make a swell chocobo jockey." Cait Sith grinned his
little Cheshire-cat grin. "I only weigh two pounds off this Mog, y'know."

Cid shook his head and laughed. "I'll keep that in mind next time I place
my bets." He slapped the stuffed cat on the back, nearly knocking him off
the stuffed Mog. "Be seeing you guys."

*			*			*

There were few things in the world that could rattle Cid Highwind enough to
induce the shivers.

One of them was the thought of Hojo the Mad Scientist getting it on with
someone, ANYONE, let alone doing so and siring Sephiroth.

The other was the sight that greeted him as he made his way through Rocket
City towards his house. The rocket, HIS rocket, his beloved Shinra No. 26,
was gone. This on its own was creepy enough. His poor rocket had been sent
flying towards Meteor packed with Huge Materia; it hadn't done a damn bit
of good. Now that the rocket was gone, Meteor itself loomed over the city,
casting an eerie twilight glow over the sleeping folks in the town. The
whole scene gave Cid a severe case of the creeps, and he shuddered.
Frankly, it scared the shit out of him. 

Cid shook his head as if to clear out some cobwebs, then he reached up and
drew a smoke from the pack tucked in the headband of his goggles. A few
minutes of digging through pockets rewarded him with a match, which he
struck on the sole of his boot and touched to the end of the cig. --I got
better things to think about right now,-- he thought as he started walking
again. --Wait a minute...lights on? At this hour?-- Cid squinted and peered
up the block. Sure enough, there were lights on in his house. 

He opened the front door and stepped in, then shut the door quietly behind
him. A "clink" noise made him wheel around towards the kitchen.

The "clink" he'd heard had been the setting of a tea cup onto a saucer.
Sure enough, Shera was awake at this ungodly hour.

"Cid?" She stood up, looking at him sort of funny. "What are you doing back
here? I thought--"

"You thought I was going off to get my ass killed saving the world without
even bothering to come back here and have one last beer in front of the
tube, eh? What are you doing up, anyway?"

Shera shrugged. "I haven't been sleeping very well...that thing--" and here
she pointed out the window in the general direction of Meteor-- "keeps me
up. I hate it."

"I can understand that." Cid dumped his bag beside the door and meandered
into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, and was pleasantly surprised to see
that it was pretty much the way he'd left it...full of stuff one cooked by
throwing into the oven and forgetting about it for fifteen minutes or so,
sandwich stuff, and a few six-packs. There was some stuff there now that
actually required real cooking, but his stuff was untouched. Opening the
freezer, he discovered that the carton of smokes he always had in the door
was there as well. "You didn't throw my stuff out?"

"Of course not. I knew you'd have to come home sooner or later, and I'd
catch hell if I did."

Cid grinned, although Shera didn't see it. Was she giving him a bit of
well-deserved attitude? --Good for you, woman.-- "You hungry?"

"I was just about to fix a snack. Should I make you something too, or--"

"I got it." Cid selected two frozen dinners, unboxed them, and threw them
into the oven. Now all this time, he was becoming more and more aware of a
tiny little voice in the back of his head that was telling him to do odd
things. Quite suddenly, he gave in to it.

Cid stepped away from the oven, wrapped his arms around the unsuspecting
Shera's waist, picked her up off the floor, and squarely planted his lips
on hers.

"Mph!?" Shera came up for air after a few moments of this. "What--"

--Oh my God, what the HELL am I doing!?-- Cid put her down and turned beet
red. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry." He sat down heavily in a kitchen chair, shaking
his head as he realized that this had been only the second time he'd so
much as touched her since the failed launch.

"I didn't mind." Shera straightened her robe, opened the fridge, and
extracted one beer, which she opened and put on the table in front of Cid.
He drank half of it in one gulp. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." --Nervous as hell, shaking like a goddamn leaf, and completely
unsure of what the hell I'm supposed to do now, but I'm fine.-- "How's
everything going around here?"

"Not too good. A few people have gone crazy. You know that guy next door
that was always making those dumb jokes?"

"Yeah." Cid killed the beer in three more swallows, and Shera passed him a
second.

"Well, the other night he climbed up on his roof and started shooting at
the Meteor with a BB gun, yelling something about turning out the lights so
he could sleep." She rubbed her red eyes and gave a little smile. "I can't
say I blamed him, but he started plinking at the people that were trying to
get him down."

"Goddamn." Cid shook his head and stared at the floor. That guy had always
annoyed the hell out of him, but..."He didn't hurt anyone, did he?"

"Not really. One guy took a BB in the ribs, but it was just a scratch. He's
fine." The oven timer dinged, and Shera donned oven mitts and removed two
foil trays of something that was supposed to be turkey and dressing. She
scooped the contents out onto respectable plates and set them down on the
table. 

Cid dug into his ravenously; Shera ate two bites and then just sort of
pushed the rest around on the plate. "I thought you said you were hungry,"
Cid said around a mouthful of turkey.

"I thought I was." Shera pushed a slice of turkey on top of a pile of green
beans and then left it alone. "I missed you, and I was worried about you. I
didn't think you'd come back--" She stopped, on the verge of tears. Cid put
his fork down.

"Hey. Look at me." Shera continued to stare at her plate. "Come on, look up
here." She did so, slowly, and her eyes went through Cid's heart like a
knife. "Don't you ever cry over me, you hear?"

"I'm sorry. I can't help it." Shera lost her grip on a tear, and it slid
down her cheek and onto a piece of turkey.

"The hell you can't. I've treated you like shit for God knows how long and
I--" He drew a shaky breath of his own-- "I don't deserve it. Turn off the
waterworks, woman." He handed her a napkin. "Come on. I'm fine. Nothing to
cry about, okay?" Shera nodded, sniffled, and dabbed a second tear away
with the offered napkin. "There you go. Good girl." He patted her arm. "You
done with that?" Shera nodded again and started to get up. "No, you sit
right there." Cid stood up and picked up the plates. "I'll clean this up
for--OW, SHIT!" Cid dropped the (fortunately unbreakable) plates; they
clattered onto the floor (Shera's shedding bits of turkey all over the
place) as Cid gritted his teeth and clutched at his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Shera rose halfway out of her chair.

"Goddamnit--ow! Cramp--" He sank back onto the chair, groaning. "Got a
cramp in my shoulder--aah!"

"Let me see." Shera stood up, went over behind the chair Cid sat
complaining in, pried his fingers away from the site of the cramp, and
began to knead. Even through the denim shirt he wore, she could feel that
the muscles between his neck and his shoulder were like steel cables, and
her own shoulder twinged in sympathy. "There?"

"AAH!" Cid gave another yelp as Shera's fingers worked over the spot.
"Yeah, right there...aah, shit, that hurts..."

"This isn't going to do a bit of good if you don't relax," she chided
softly as she continued to rub, trying to work out the knots.

"I'm trying, damnit!" Cid grunted, then he sighed and gave in. The woman
was truly a miracle worker; after a few minutes he felt the knotted muscles
begin to relax and the cramp begin to fade away. He looked down at the
floor and saw that there were two dirty plates and a good bit of uneaten TV
dinner strewn upon it. He chuckled. "I made a mess, didn't I?"

"Don't worry about it." Shera kept on kneading his shoulders. "I'll get it
in a bit. You sit there and try...to...RELAX!" She punctuated these last
three words by pounding lightly on his shoulders, then she went back to the
previous method of rubbing and kneading.

"Okay, okay." Cid shut his eyes and let his head droop forward a bit. If
this wasn't heaven, he didn't know what was. He would have, in fact, fallen
asleep at this point had he not suddenly and uncomfortably noticed that
Shera's hands were having an effect on yet another part of his body. He
swallowed nervously and started thinking about breeding chocobos...no, that
was definitely NOT going to work...

"I know what you need. A hot bath. Stay right there, okay?" Shera left Cid
alone (much to his relief; he wasn't sure what he would have done if she'd
kept it up any longer than that) and went off to the bathroom. 

Cid killed his second beer in one gulp. He felt like a teenager all of a
sudden, getting all worked up at the worst possible time. He fumbled a
smoke out of the pack and lit it on the stove as he heard water begin to
run in the bathroom. Where the hell was she keeping the ashtrays now?
Didn't matter. There were two perfectly good empty beer cans right in front
of him. He took a deep drag off the cigarette and rubbed his forehead, then
laughed softly as he noticed just how badly his hands were shaking. --Just
like a damn kid,-- he thought again and flicked ashes into one of the
empties. The water shut off just as he finished the cigarette and stowed
the butt in the can. "Okay, all ready," came Shera's voice, and Cid stood
up shakily and made his way to the bathroom. 

Upon entering the bathroom, Cid noticed that Shera had laid out a pair of
pj's for him as well, and he smiled. It wasn't until he had pulled off his
clothes and eased into the hot water that he realized just how damned tired
he really was. All this running around, beating the crap out of weird
monster things, tracking Sephiroth to the ends of the earth, and other
assorted hero business was wearing him out. And it wasn't like he was
young, either. This shit was fine for kids like Yuffie and Cloud and Tifa
and hotheads like Barret and--well, whatever the hell Cait Sith was
supposed to be. Cid sank into the tub with a soft groan, dunked a washcloth
in the water, and plopped it over his face, trying not to think about
anything at all. 

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep one thought from running
through his mind.

--I don't deserve her.-- Cid sighed, causing the rapidly cooling washcloth
on his face to puff up, then slowly lay back down. --I've treated her like
crap for God knows how long, and she acts like it doesn't even make a
difference. It sure as hell does to me.-- He lay there in the tub, chewing
over old memories...he and Shera had made love twice. 

The first time was the night he'd found out he was going to be the first
man in space. He'd come home from work, run through the front door, scooped
Shera off her feet, and carried her off to the bedroom where they stayed
for a good twelve hours (except for the five minutes Cid spent at the front
door telling the neighbor that stood there bitching about the noise where
he could stick it). Hell, he'd even considered proposing to her then, but
he'd pushed the thought out of his mind with relative ease.  In light of
what was to come, he was glad he hadn't married her then. 

The second...well, he didn't want to think about it too much, but the
memories crept in anyway. It was about a year after that damn launch had
gone bad. Cid had been at the inn most of the night with his buddies and
had gotten completely and totally shitfaced, and according to said buddies
had made an ass out of himself. He'd finally passed out on the stairs,
where Shera would find him a few hours later. She'd dragged him home,
force-fed him coffee, and patiently listened as he told her in precise
detail exactly why he couldn't stand her. And she'd just sat there and
taken it...up to a point, anyway. Cid had said something extremely personal
and inflammatory--hell, he didn't remember what and she wouldn't have told
him even if he asked--and that had been it. Shera had stood up calmly,
walked over to where he sat, and decked him. She didn't just slap him; she
hit him with a right jab that left him with a black eye for a week. He'd
sat there, stunned, until she turned on the tears and started saying "I'm
sorry, I'm sorry," over and over, until Cid had stood up (rather
unsteadily), put his arms around her, and kissed her. One thing led to
another, and the next morning Cid had awoken with the worst hangover he'd
ever had, and Shera cuddled up to him. From that day on, he slept on the
sofa. For two weeks he hadn't even been able to look her in the eye, and he
sure as hell couldn't touch her again after that. She'd tried a few times,
but always in vain, and finally she gave up altogether. 

And now here he was, with a big goddamn ball of fire hanging over his head
and the heads of every other living thing on the mudball they all called
"home," thinking about shit that shouldn't have happened. Forget all the
years of yelling and bitching at her; that one event made Cid more certain
than ever that he did not deserve the kindness Shera continued to offer. He
was dimly aware that the water he lay in was now barely lukewarm, and that
Shera was tapping on the door asking him if he'd drowned. He assured her
that he would be out shortly, climbed out of the tub, drained it, and
toweled off. He caught a look at himself in the mirror-- --God, I look like
hammered dogshit-- --and realized it had been well over a week since he'd
shaved. He did so, cleaned out the sink, and put on the pajamas Shera had
laid out for him. They were his favorites, nice warm blue flannel ones that
were so wonderful on a chilly night. He threw on a robe over them and
stepped out of the bathroom.

He sat down on the sofa and turned on the TV, finding nothing but static.
He then remembered that when Shinra went belly-up, it had taken the TV
stations with it, and now the TV itself was nothing more than a piece of
abstract art sitting in the corner of the living room. He tried the radio,
and at length ran across a pirate station that was run out of Midgar, which
played the great old guitar-laden rock n' roll he'd been so fond of when he
was a younger man, a hot-shot young pilot full of crazy ideas about going
off into space while Shera was busting her young ass studying engineering
at Midgar University. Boy, time sure had a way of turning everything up on
its ass, didn't it? The space thing had been almost literally shot down in
flames--twice. Shera, whose IQ was almost off the scale, stayed in this
miserable little house cleaning and cooking and patiently putting up with
his little temper tantrums.

And now she sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, hands folded in her
lap. "Are you going to sleep out here?"

"I guess." Cid scratched his head nervously. He opened his mouth to say
something, closed it again, then decided to go for it. "I meant what I said
before."

"About what?"

"About not deserving you." Cid sighed heavily. "Why'd you put up with me,
Shera? Most folks woulda thrown me out on my ass after the kind of shit I
pulled on you...especially that one night--"

"Hush." Shera shook her head. "You said it yourself, that day we were
supposed to launch the rocket. I'm not stupid. I know you're a good man,
Cid. I always knew that. That's why I never left you."

"You should have."

"And then where would you be?" She laughed. "I'll tell you exactly where
you'd be. You'd be sitting right there with a six foot stack of empty beer
cans next to the sofa and a mountain of TV dinner trays in the garbage."

"Don't forget the ten full ashtrays," Cid added.

"No, you wouldn't even bother with ashtrays, you'd just fill up the beer
cans." She laughed again, and Cid couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt
remembering that he'd left one such empty-turned-ashtray on the kitchen
table that very night. "I put up with you because I screwed everything up
for you that day."

"But you turned out to be right." Cid rubbed his eyes. "When I was layin'
there in the rocket with that piece of metal pinning me down, that was all
I could think about. All those years I took it out on you, and you were
right."

"Cid--" Shera ever so gently laid her hand over his. "You couldn't have
known that, and I couldn't have either."

"But now you do. And you're still here."

"Yeah." 

Cid turned his hand over and lightly closed his fingers around Shera's
small hand. "Thanks."

Shera made no reply, except to rest her head on his shoulder, which
reminded her-- "How's that cramp?"

"All better. You've got some amazing hands there, woman." He kissed her
softly on the forehead, catching a whiff of her hair as he did. 

One of the things Cid could never figure out was how the hell women always
managed to smell so damn good. He thought maybe there was some sort of
whackus in their pores that manufactured a constant stream of perfume.
That, and they always seemed to wash their hair with stuff that smelled
like fruit salad. Even after a rough day of beating up monsters, Tifa would
still trail a scent of powder behind her wherever she walked. And he'd
almost stumbled on the big secret when he'd accidentally walked in on
Yuffie in the shower at some inn or another one morning; of course, she had
beaten him almost senseless for his trouble (which the rest of the party
had found hilarious; even Vincent, who he'd never seen so much as crack a
smile, had gotten a good laugh at his expense) and he now made it a point
to knock on bathroom doors even when he was sure they were vacant. It made
not a bit of difference to him then, however, because whatever it was, it
was starting to have the same effect on him as before. He gently turned
Shera's face up to him and kissed her again, more softly than before, and
this time she did not "mph" in shock. She brought her free hand up and laid
it on his neck, running her thumb along his jaw. Then she broke free for a
second.

"What's wrong?"

"Thanks for shaving. I don't care much for kissing cacti."

Both had a good laugh, then kissed some more. Cid was more than a little
surprised (though not unpleasantly so) when he felt Shera's tongue slip
into his mouth, timidly at first and then in earnest. He returned the favor
and put an arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her closer.

"Are you still planning on sleeping here?"

"Shit, no." Cid stood up, again a bit unsteadily, then he took Shera's hand
and helped her to her feet. "Not unless you want me to." 

Shera's reply, silent though it was, left no doubt in Cid's mind that her
answer was "Shit, no." He led her to the bedroom, and both sat down on the
edge of the bed and picked up where they'd left off. At some point between
the bed and the sofa, Cid had come out of the bathrobe and he now untied
the sash on Shera's. Underneath it, she was wearing one of those cute
flannel nightgowns, sort of the female version of his own jammies, except
hers was pale green. Fortunately, it had a zipper running all the way down
the front; at that point neither of them was sure if they could have
negotiated getting the thing off without that, as much as both of them were
trembling. Cid was having enough trouble with the buttons on his pajama
top. He managed to undo two of four, but his hands simply would not
cooperate past that, as they had other things on their little minds. He
fumbled with the button once...twice..."Shit."

"I've got it." Shera gently undid the remaining two buttons and pulled the
top off. "There you go."

"Thanks." He had an easier time with the zipper on Shera's gown; it was a
simple grab-and-pull thing as most zippers were, and the gown joined Cid's
p.j. top on the floor. "Damn, I almost forgot what a good-looking body
you've got, you know that?"

Shera smiled and ran her fingertips fron his neck all the way down to his
stomach. "You're looking pretty good yourself."

"I've been getting a hell of a workout lately."

"Mmm." She lay back on the bed and wrapped her arms around Cid's neck,
pulling him down onto her. 

"You sure you're okay with this?"

"Of course."

Cid sighed, then kissed her on the lips again. His hand slid up her stomach
until it found one of her breasts, where it stopped and squeezed softly.
Shera let out a little moan and kissed his neck.

"God, that drives me crazy." He began to kiss her all over, still caressing
her breasts, and her hands slid down his back to the waistband of his
pajama bottoms, where they rested. It never ceased to amaze him that a
mechanic of her calibre could have such damn soft hands. 

Shera hooked her thumbs into the waistband of Cid's p.j. bottoms and
started working them off. He would have ended up in a tangle of flannel,
but he reached down with one free hand and gave a bit of assistance there.
One more piece of flannel hit the floor, and one of Shera's hands inched up
his thigh and softly curled around his manhood and gently stroked it,
forging it into iron in a matter of seconds.

"Aah..." Cid sighed and dropped his forehead onto Shera's breast. 

"Do you like that?"

"You don't have to be so gentle, y'know." 

Shera tightened her grip a bit. "Better?" 

"Oh yeah." He returned the favor, sliding a finger into her slowly, and she
gasped and moaned again. They kept this up for a few minutes, and finally
Cid could stand no more. He crawled on top of Shera and entered her, and
she wrapped her arms around him and hung on tightly. From time to time, she
made some sort of little whimpering noise. Cid thought as he moved inside
her that the little noise was borne from pleasure and would have continued
to think so had he not heard an almost inaudible gasp of "Ow," coming from
under him. He stopped for a second.

"You okay?"

Nod.

"Sure?"

Another nod.

"Shera, am I hurting you?"

Shrug. "A little."

Cid looked up to see tears in her eyes again, and now she was biting her
lower lip. "Goddamnit, woman! If it hurts, speak up or slap me upside the
head or something! You sure as hell don't have to take THAT!" He kissed her
forehead, realizing he'd come off sounding a hell of a lot more harshly
than he'd intended to. "Don't let me hurt you again. Especially not like
this."

Shera sighed and scooted around a bit. "Okay...that's a little better."

"You sure?" 

She nodded once more, and Cid picked up where he'd left off, a little
slower than before. Apparently, she hadn't been with anyone else in the
last few years; she was so tight it almost hurt -him-, and the only thing
that kept him from laying into her like a wild animal was the fear that
he'd hurt her again. 

But before too long, Shera seemed to have adjusted and she clung to him
again, moaning and whimpering louder. This time there could be no mistaking
those noises for anything else. But just to be sure...

"Shera, you okay?" Cid laid his hand on her forehead; she replied with an
emphatic "Mmm-hmm!" and assaulted his mouth with kisses once more. "I guess
that's a 'yes,'" he said, coming up for air. "God, Shera...you feel so damn
good..." He pressed into her a bit harder and a bit faster, and quite
suddenly her back arched and she bit into his shoulder, crying out as she
came forcefully. 

"Oh, God..." Cid groaned; feeling Shera tighten even more around him was
almost enough to send him over right there, and as she continued to moan
and buck under him he started to feel himself let loose. "Ahh, shit..." He
gritted his teeth and thrust hard into her a few more times, then he
stiffened. "Aah! Oh, God..." And then for the next five seconds, speech
became physically impossible as his entire body locked up and he let go
inside of her, holding her tightly and pressing his mouth against her
shoulder to keep from making too much noise (which wasn't having much of an
effect, he still thought he was probably waking folks up next door) as he
cried out. And then it passed, and Cid dropped his head onto the pillow
next to Shera's, panting.

"Goddamn, Shera..." he gasped. "I don't think I can move."

"Me either," Shera sighed, then she turned her head to the side and kissed
Cid on the cheek. 

They lay together for what might have been ten minutes to two hours; there
was no clock in the room and Meteor's weird glow made it impossible to
discern whether or not the sun was coming up. Somewhere in that time, Cid
rolled over onto his back, still holding Shera close to him. 

"You want me to get you a cigarette?" Shera whispered.

"Nah. I don't want you to go anywhere." Cid kissed her forehead and stroked
her hair. He sighed. "You know as well as I do I ain't any good at this
mushy-talk shit, so I'm not even gonna try." He paused a bit, then
continued. "You need to understand something, okay? I might not come back
from that goddamn cave up North. Not that I don't want to. But I know it,
and I think you know it too. I ain't exactly young anymore, and some bad
shit might happen up there." 

"I know." Shera closed her eyes and snuggled against Cid's chest. "If you
don't come back, it won't be long for the rest of us either."

"Well, maybe. But if Sephiroth finishes me off and Cloud and the rest
manage to pull it off--"

"Don't talk like that." 

"I have to, Shera." Cid swallowed, feeling that he needed something to
drink very badly but not wanting to get out of bed or out of Shera's arms.
"I gotta get this out on the table, because you and me both know it could
happen. So after I leave here, I want you to start thinking like I'm dead.
I don't want you getting your hopes up and shit."

"I can't do that." Shera shook her head. "I won't."

"You better, otherwise you'll end up on the roof with a BB gun shooting at
everything that passes by. I told you once, I don't want you crying over me
and I don't want you worrying yourself sick over me." Cid held her tighter
and whispered into her ear. "You've got to do this for me. If I come back,
great. If not...well, you'll be ready for it."

"I won't do that, Cid." Shera shook her head again. "I'll do nothing of the
sort until I know for sure."

Cid sighed. He knew that there could be no more arguing with her; the woman
had made up her mind. "I just don't want you wasting your life waiting for
me to come back if I'm not going to. I--" --Oh, the hell with it, I've come
this far, ain't no turning back now-- "I love you too much for you to go
through that."

"And I love you too much to pretend you're dead if you're not. Okay?" 

"Okay." As Cid held Shera close to him, he began to notice the first rays
of real sunlight peeking through the window.

--end

Yes, I suck as a lemon author. C&C/MST welcome. This is just a little thing
I had to get out of my system; I couldn't even sit down and have a decent
Riven session till I got it out in the screen. Oh well. I'm going to bed.

--Sailor Solathei
"Ice...snacks...and--fifty gallons of BEER!? What kind of life does she
lead, anyway!?"
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