Wings Chapter One By Tyloric Warnings: Minor spoilers to the plot of FFVII, Some foul language NEW COMERS: Refer to the prologue before reading this chapter!

--Present Day-- Cid brushed his fingers along the carton in his pocket, stroking it like one would a beloved pet. He wanted so desperately to pull the carton out, pop a cigarette in between his lips and just breathe in a good, long whiff of it. He had always enjoyed that satisfied feeling since he first started smoking as a teenager. Smoking and sex, his two favorite things. Problem was he hadn’t had either in weeks. Yuffie had pulled all of AVALANCHE out to Wutai as a sort of reunion to celebrate the one year anniversary of them ‘saving the Planet’. He hadn’t wanted to come, to be completely honest, but Shera had made him. “All you’ve been doing for the past two months is work on that airship of yours! Get out, have fun,” her words echoed in his head. He had resisted the urge to argue that working on his ship was him having fun. But as he had turned to leave the house she had called out, “And don’t even think about smoking!” Damn women. She was killing him. Killing him. So after their first day of celebrations (it really had been nice to see the gang all in one place again) he had come up to the mountain to think… and mope. Mostly mope, but there was thinking involved. He gazed longingly up at the stars; his visit with them previously had been short-lived in that Shinra rocket, but it had been worth it. Still, a part of him was insisting that it hadn’t been enough. But at least he’d been there at all, he told himself. How many people could say that? “Hey!” a cheery voice called out from behind him. “What’cha doin’ all the way up here?” Cid turned to look over his shoulder, watching as Yuffie bounced up next to him. She wore her trademark smile, which was full of optimism. She was wearing that blue tank top with the white flowers on it, though she wasn’t wearing the coat that usually accompanied it. Her pants, as were the norm with Yuffie, came to just above her thighs. Her hair was back in a pony tail; that was new. Cid shrugged. “Nuttin’.” She eyed him disbelievingly. “Nothing? Then why do you look like you were run over by a Chocobo?” For emphasis, she stuck a finger in his face. He sighed, partly defeated, “I need a light.” Partly because there was no way, Shiva as his witness, that he would discuss his sexual frustrations with a teenager. “Then light one up,” she stated matter-of-factly. He grimaced. “Can’t.” “Can’t?” “Can’t.” She cocked her side to the side, curiously. “Why the heck not?” His head was hanging a bit low now. “Promised Shera I’d try and quit.” Yuffie stared at him for a long moment, the statement processing in her head. She went over it again and again, making sure she was getting it right before saying, “Promised you’d…” She gaped, then grinned devilishly. “Why Cid Highwind, you old man, you! Has she got you on a leash?” She giggled. He scowled at her. “Ain’t no one got me on any damn leash, girl.” He huffed before adding, “And I ain’t old.” “Old enough, apparently.” She laughed when he growled at her. She lifted her hands to mimic a dog pouting. “Woof woof.” He took an angry step toward her and she jumped back, laughing hysterically. “What’d you come up here for, anyway? To ruin my peace and quiet?” Cid snapped. Still giggling a bit, she waved a hand at him dismissively, “Calm down, Captain. Just didn’t see you much at the party. Figured I’d make sure you were okay.” She purposefully slapped him on the back harder than necessary. Cid felt his posture relax a bit as he stared at the Wutainese ninja. He remembered a sharp-tongued sixteen year old who was looking for a fight. She’d stolen all of their Materia in an effort to try and restore Wutai to its former glory, and while she didn’t exactly succeed in that account, she’d been making an effort as the heir of Wutai to change it from a tourist attraction to a respected country. She’d come a long way from there to here, kid to adult in only a year. Cid turned back around to face gaze back up at the stars. “I’m fine. Just thinkin’. Never did like parties.” “Thinking? At your age? Careful, you might hurt yourself.” She poked at his side. The blonds’ eyes narrowed, though he didn’t look at her. He stayed focused on the stars. “What’cha thinking about?” she asked after a while. His fingers brushed against the carton in his pocket. “Stuff.” She frowned, regarding him for a minute. Then she remembered.“Oh! I forgot!” She reached to dig something out of her back pocket. Cid eyed her curiously, and raised his eyebrows when she pulled out a long pink ribbon. She lifted the sleeve of his shirt and tied it around his bicep. She nodded, satisfied. “Uh, Yuffie…” he started. “So we don’t forget her.” She was looking right at him now, a small smile on her lips but tears shining lightly in her eyes. He couldn’t remember Yuffie ever looking so serious. He thought for only a few seconds before nodding in agreement. “So we don’t forget.” *** Cid’s eyes cracked open slowly, the light of day bleeding through the thin blinds of the motel room. He crept up into a sitting position, looking around to remember where he was. When the realization that it had just been a dream dawned on him, he lay back down, groaning. It was a grim reality when memories were all you had left of the people from your past. Still, no matter how hard he tried, that was where the memories stopped. That moment with Yuffie was the last memory he could recall of being home on his planet. There was a gap. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in an alleyway on a planet had he later learned was called Persephone. That had been nearly a year ago. A year and he was no closer to finding any answers. He had gone to quite a few planets searching for where the hell he was and how the hell he got there. He hadn’t found any. Eventually his searching led him in a circle back to where he started: Persephone. He had picked up some useful skills, though. Piloting a spaceship was, ironically, not a lot different from piloting one of his airships. In fact, once you broke atmo, the fundamentals were exactly the same. The only difference being that you had so much more freedom in space from the lack of gravity to fight. It should be a dream, finding himself in a place where space travel was commonplace, where the sky was, quite literally, the limit. Ironically, it looked like that wasn’t far enough. *** “Zoë,” Mal said over the comm in the cargo bay, “what’s out ETA on Persephone?” After a few seconds she responded, “Forty-five minutes, sir.” “Alright, tell me if we get into any trouble. I’d like to know in advance if we’re gonna crash and die.” The humor in her voice was feint, but there. “Yes, sir.” He nodded, satisfied, even though no one could see him. It had taken quite a while for Zoë to start to get back to her normal self. She had hidden her grief fairly well. Anyone who didn’t actually know Zoë wouldn’t be able to tell. But the crew could. Mal had an understanding, however; as long as it didn’t interfere with how she did on the job, she could grieve all she wanted. As long as she could still shoot people. Which she had proved only recently that she could. It became apparent to Mal quite quickly after purchasing Serenity all those years ago that people, normal folk and ‘petty thieves’ alike, took offense easily. Also, quite a high percentage of said folk and thieves liked to carry guns. So, following that logic, he had come with three rules that he always stuck to. One, that even trustworthy folk, including friends, couldn’t be trusted. Two, whenever possible, it was important go in with someone watching your back, the exception to this rule occasionally being if Jayne was the only option. And finally, the last rule of life out in the black; always wear your lucky socks. They could deflect bullets. Seriously. “There is no such thing as lucky socks,” River whispered in his ear as she floated by. Simon, who was trailing behind her, looked to Mal curiously. “Lucky socks?” Mal sighed. “First of all, Albatross, yes there is. And secondly, Doctor, yes. Lucky socks.” The young doctor was trying unsuccessfully to hide an amused grin. “You honestly have a pair of lucky socks?” Before he could respond, River cut in. “They’re pink.” The Captain looked up on the catwalk where River had stationed herself and glared at her dangerously. Simon, on the other hand, was holding his hand to mouth to cover the smile that had spread across his face. “Hey now, where do you get off on makin’ fun of a man’s socks?” “Well, he has a point,” Simon said, turning up to look at River. “I mean, when they’re lucky and pink, nothing else really needs to be said at that point.” His ribs shook with unheard laughter. River was grinning like a madwoman. “Get out! Both of ya!” He waved his arms at them, irritated. Simon climbed up the stairs of the catwalk into the galley, laughing all the while. River followed—more of a skip, actually—after him. Mal turned to head into the cargo bay to check on the delivery they were making, grumbling. The job was a simple one: deliver ten crates of… ‘fish’… to the vender on Persephone. Easy, to the point, and the pay was decent. Except for the part where they had been ambushed (at the docks, no less) on New Melbourne. Hence the ‘always have someone watching your back’ rule. The only real downside to this here operation was the fact that it was all going through Badger. Never much cared for that man. That Dyton Colony accent coupled with illusions of superiority fried his brainpan. But work was work and work was becoming scarce. He’d gone to Badger out of lack of other options, nothing more. At least that’s what he liked to tell himself. “Captain,” Zoë’s leveled voice came through the comm. Stepping over to it, he said, “Go ahead.” “We’re entering atmo, sir. ETA ten minutes.” “Be right up,” he replied evenly. *** She could hear it; the chaos. Faint, but it was there. Waiting. It—he—was waiting. A heart led by turmoil. Confusion. Curiosity. Wings. This one had wings. River smiled to herself as she guided the firefly to Eavesdown Docks. She had found the one that would help Serenity fly. *** Author’s Notes: This story makes no effort to tie into the events of Advent Children or any of the other FFVII spin offs. However, some of the plot devices will be referenced. Also, for the sake of story telling, I’m making Cid a bit taller in this story. His normal height (from FFVII) is 5’8. Well, I’m making him 5’11. If he was that much shorter than everyone in Firefly it would make for quite a bit of awkward situations… so yeah, tall Cid. Still playing around with River. I like where she’s going but I’m still not completely satisfied. Now that I’ve essentially set the foundation for the story, chapters I post should be longer. Also, don’t excpect many author’s notes from here on out; I’ll note important things at the beginning of the chapter (not in great detail) from now on. Remember to leave a review on your way out to let me know how I’m doing! ~Tyloric