FicWad

Author's Note: Square Enix Owns Everything!
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Chapter Three
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She had always pictured him old. Man in black, ex- SOLDIER General, very long and sharp katana, grayish hair. Oh, and eyes the color of mako.

Since seeing him in the Temple of the Ancients, however, she had decided that Cloud had, intentionally or not, omitted several aesthetic details regarding his former commander: He didn't look a day over thirty. His hair was long and the color of molten silver. And his eyes...he looked as if he belonged to an otherworld. For a man bent on becoming a god he definitely looked the part. Well, if don't stop him, he'll at least be ahead of the curve. Figures that all the good looking ones are either married, gay or psycho. She paused and shook her head. Could she perhaps have some subconscious reason for following him, in addition to the obvious one? She sighed. This was getting her nowhere. It was already past dusk and she wasn't even halfway through the Sleeping Forest. She padded across the soft ground.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you what happens to little girls who wander forests alone?"

She halted immediately, scanning the limbs above her. She had not expected to encounter him so soon. She leaned casually on her staff, her grip tightening, her knuckles white.

"Let me guess. First, a wolf would eat my grandmother. Considering she's been dead for a while now, I don't imagine he'd find it too appetizing. But for the sake of argument let's say he's into that sort of thing."

She saw his foot then, dangling languidly from a branch to her left. Her eyes followed it slowly upward. They lingered upon the length of a very long and shining blade. She swallowed.

"Next he'd likely come after me. Put on Granny's clothes; try to lure me just close enough to eat me, too."

He lazily plucked a leaf from overhead, and ran it over the blade, cutting it like paper.

"And then?"

She noticed the smoothness of his ungloved hands. One glove hung from a pocket; its mate was, surprisingly, near her feet.

"Well, the story differs here, depending on who's telling it. Some say the wolf eats the girl-"

"-and the woodsman cuts Red Riding Hood out of the wolf's belly, freeing the girl and her grandmother." Her eyes were on his face now. He gave her a sardonic smile. "I see no woodsman to save you, Red."

He winced. Why had he called her that? That had been his nickname for her, his Rosso, his red-haired vixen. She would have cut this woman in half by now. Why had he bothered with these games?

The woman before him hadn't noticed his temporary distraction. Though she was imperceptibly shaking, her expression held no fear, and when she spoke, her voice was strong and defiant.

"I don't need one. And didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to interrupt?"

His eyebrows knitted further together at the mention of his upbringing. Still, he smiled. Was she as proud as he?

"You tread upon dangerous ground, milady."

At this she merely rolled her eyes. "Anyway. As I was saying: It's true, some say the wolf ate the girl and her grandmother. But I prefer the version my mother, who did teach me proper manners, told to me." She stepped forward then, her eyes locked on his, both looking for any hint of the others' next move. "You see, the wolf does his best to lure her in. But he underestimates her strength. In the end, it's the girl herself who kills the wolf with the axe, freeing her grandmother from the belly of the beast, as it were."

He sighed and leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree. As he did, his hair, a silver curtain, slid over his shoulder. Had he been any other man, she would have thought him beautiful.

"You really think you have a chance against me?" His hand rested upon the hilt of his sword, his fingers toying with the wrapping on the tang. As he looked at her it occurred to him that, in a small way, he found her attractive.

"From this distance, no. Your sword gives you a bit more reach than I like. But I think I've got a shot otherwise."

"Oh really? And here I was thinking that maybe you weren't crazier than I."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

He swung his other leg over the tree branch and slid off. "Well, you have to admit, my reputation precedes me."

"Which one was that again? The Great Sephiroth, the consummate professional, heroic and honorable General of the ShinRa Army? Or was it The Great Sephiroth, psychotic madman bent on destroying the Planet, responsible for horrors too innumerable to count? Because I have to tell you, lately I've been hearing more about the latter, and frankly, I'm not impressed."

With that his patience was finally spent. Her next intake of breath was as sharp as the tip blade that now rested at her throat. A small trickle of blood seeped onto its point. "I recommend, milady, you hold your pretty tongue, for if you do not, the next words you speak will be your last."

She looked at the blade, down its length which shone platinum in the moonlight, and met his eyes directly. He was staring at her, openly, fascinated, enraged. She decided to take a risk.

"Well I never said I believed it. After all, a guy like you has to be misrepresented, right? People think they know you based on what they read, hear, want you to be, regardless of whether or not it's accurate or true. And sooner or later they invent a picture for themselves of what you are, and that becomes their reality of who you are. So then, when you do something really out there, something that conflicts with their manufactured picture of your persona, they become disappointed in you because you didn't meet their expectations." She turned away then, her back to her sword, surprised a little at herself. "And either way, I'm guessing that started way before you burned Niebelheim. Am I right?"

He lowered his sword then, slowly, and looked at her through narrowed eyes, his mouth parted slightly. What she said was the truth enough, more than she would ever know. And then it occurred to him.

"Funny, I had thought you knew you were speaking about yourself in the third person."

She whirled around then, her eyes wide with surprise. He laughed, and though his eyes softened just a little, his smile was still mischievous. Upon seeing this her face grew red, which caused him to smile wider. He advanced toward her, but she kept her distance.

"And what would give you that idea?"

They were circling each other now. She held her staff at the ready, while he shouldered his sword like a rifle. The blade stretched out behind him, a scythe set to reap her soul.

"Well-and mind you, this is just my professional opinion," he replied, "-you're smarter than you let on. See, I've been watching you ever since your friends came to break you out of Hojo's lab. For Hojo to take an interest in a slums flower girl? There's something behind that-"

"Oh come on. You and I both know it's not the first time he's "obtained the services" of the people under the plate. Certainly with ShinRa as your employer you were party to that kind of knowledge?"

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough. Still, I doubt that ShinRa, or even Hojo for that matter, is researching a catch-and-release program for slum goody-goodies. Statistically speaking, it's not likely."

"Who says I'm a goody-goody?"

"Ah, but that's exactly my point. True, you put up a good front: selling flowers, the helpless demeanor, hell, even the ribbon is overkill."

She put her hand to her hair, then quickly drew it away. "So your point is, we're both stereotypes? Come on."

"See, there it is. That little spark. That stubborn, defiant, devil-may-care spark. You don't care what's proper or what's safe. You came here, didn't you? You came alone, didn't you? Reckless and throwing caution to the wind." He paused. "So you want to know my point, Aerith?" He closed the distance between them then, stepping far too close, close enough to strangle her or kiss her, she couldn't decide which was worse.

"My point is, you are no different than I."

She stood and gaped at him while he looked at her, intensely, passionately, and half wanted him to do exactly that.

But then he closed his eyes, shrugged his eyebrows, turned and walked away, smiling. "Except of course, that you are a traitor to this planet, and I am not. And for that, you will not be forgiven."

She looked at him like he had lost his mind. Indeed, he had. Her eyes narrowed. He had turned, sword ready, and was about to lunge. He moved closer toward her. She was considering her options. She had her staff, but that was next to useless against an ex-ShinRa general. But she did have the Planet. And that was something.

"Come now, that isn't exactly a fair advantage. How am I supposed to put up a good fight when you have that thing? It's at least as tall as you are!"

He paused, and lowering his weapon, drove it into the dirt before him. It stood two inches above his head.

"Taller." He paused, hand still on his blade, and decided to indulge her. "What do you suggest?"

"Tell you what. Let's play a game, shall we? You put down your sword, and I'll do the same with my staff-"

"Which isn't much of one, I might add. You really should have a more practical weapon for traipsing across the country this long-"

"Will you let me finish! Good God, didn't they teach you ANYTHING about manners in the military?"

"I was simply pointing out what I see to be a serious flaw in your personal protective methodology. Tactically speaking, that thing's as useful as a toothpick."

"As I was saying," she continued, "we'll play a game."

"The point of which is?"

"I'll hide, and all you have to do is catch me."

He looked at her incredulously. "You know, I spoke too soon. You're not trying to fool anyone. You really do have the maturity of a five-year-old."

She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked back on her heels and tiptoes. "Hey, you're the one playing hide-and seek with Cloud and my friends." She paused in thought. "Let's see, the stakes...If I win, you let me pass through the forest, unharmed."

"Boring, even for you. Let's up the ante."

She paused in her rocking, then followed, "What do you propose?"

She could see the gears were turning. "Simple. Rumor has it you have in your possession a very rare Materia. I. Want. It."

She didn't like where this was going. "So I'm supposed to just hand over my Materia if you win? Why don't you just take it after you kill me?"

Another sigh. "Well, since you brought it up, it doesn't work that way. When a life possessing Materia returns to the Planet, the knowledge and essence of the sphere leaves with it. That's one of the reasons Materia is so rare: Those who die with spheres on their persons take the Materia with them. So despite the adage, in this case, you really can take it with you."

"Thank you, Professor Sephiroth, for that inspiring lecture. So we play hide-and-seek with Materia. Now I have to ask: What's in it for me, besides my life of course?" Not waiting for him to speak, she offered, "I know! I want your Materia. And not just any one-I want the one you stole from Cloud at the Temple of the Ancients!"

"No deal." He reached for his katana.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Your reputation would never recover from being bested by a woman." She decided to test how far she could push him. She walked towards him, as he moved to back away, stopping at his side, speaking while she moved. "Hmm, afraid of cooties are we? Poor Sephiroth, afraid of girls." She drew a finger across the armor on his shoulders. "What's the matter? Afraid you'll lose to me?"

"Not in the slightest. Oh, and if I win-and I will-your life is forfeit. After I take your Materia, of course."

It was at that moment the white metal of the sword caught her eye. She moved her finger to the blade testing its sharpness. She nodded. He sighed again and caught it in his ungloved one. He spoke softly as he gazed intently into her eyes.

"What did you expect, Red?"

Not breaking eye contact with her, he brought her finger to his lips. Closing his eyes, he kissed it, melting her to her core, and healing her cut at the same time. He looked at her then, blood still on his lips, hungry with desire. He wanted more, and this was not lost on her.

"So where is it, then?"

"W-What?"

"Your Materia. I. Want. To. See. It."

She hesitated. "You first."

He paused and concentrated. A small black orb appeared before him. "It's yours if you can find it in the mess of this Forest. After all, I have no further need for it...." Something in him, maybe his Mother, told him this might not be true. But he'd summoned Meteor already, which made its known future uses equal exactly zero. He continued. "Call it a token of my affection. You will have earned it, should you live long enough to find it. Now, your turn..."

He was looking at her now, fingering the length of ribbon in her hair. He was still holding her hand. Slowly, she put her free hand to the ribbon in her hair, and from it produced a small white sphere. The very eyes that had been so transfixed upon her seconds before were now eyeing the orb, glowing warm and pure, with an even greater hunger. He dropped her hand and reached for it, suspended in the air.

"Such power.... "

She closed her hand around it as he tried to snatch it from the air. Instead, his fist was now enveloped firmly around hers. Immediately seeing his error, he relaxed his grip and caressed her hand. She gave him a knowing smile.

"Now Sephiroth, surely you realize, we are not so easily won."

He looked from their hands to her face, and held his hands up in defeat, smiling. "And surely you realize, I like to do things the hard way."

"Of course. Isn't that what makes life so interesting?" Stepping out of arm's reach, she turned and faced him, smiling his own mischievous smile back at him, and released the sphere. Both floated into the mists of the wood. This would be fun...if not terrifying.

He straightened. Wiping his mouth on the back of his gloved hand, his lips narrowed into a thin lipped smile. He strode to a more professional distance and turned from her. "Very well, since you seem to enjoy playing with fire. Because I am a gentleman, and because I clearly have the advantage either way, I will indulge you. But know that the minute I find your Materia," he said, turning back toward her, " your life is-"

He stopped mid-sentence and took a step forward, surprised.

"-forfeit."

She had vanished in the thicket.

He smiled devilishly to himself. This would be fun indeed.