Author's Note: Okay, this is a prologue, but not the very beginning of the story of Yuffie and Vincent that surrounds "Where we Collide" Specifically, the circumstances around when Yuffie and Vincent first hook up.

Exert:

When they had first been together, it had almost been a joke. He was physically worn and tired, and she had been injured after battling a creature from the hills that had ventured dangerously close to Edge. She had saved his life that day, and it was then that all of the accumulating attributes of the Wutai Princess became clear to the gunman. He had grown to crave her bubbly attitude, he missed her when she was gone, and it never escaped him how devoted a person she was, even if it was shown best only to him. He made this clear to her as they set out on the AVALANCHE commission, but as she stared dumbly at him (out of both shock and elation) the monster appeared and proceeded to kick both of their asses, almost destroying Vincent before Yuffie took a hit meant for him and his bullet finally dealt a devastating blow.

Her self-sacrifice had been too much. He had held her tenderly, like a tiny glass object that might break if he touched it too brashly. Their kisses were light and often off-target; too exhausted and too mesmerized to care. He had entered her with unrivaled caution, his heart breaking at the prospect of hurting her any further. He winced when he broke her maidenhead, but through the pain she gripped tightly to his shoulders, urging him on. His manhood settled within her as far as she could let him, and indeed as far as he could go.

"Vinnie," she had gasped. "We fit so perfectly!"

So this story picks up after the happenings in this small exert, when the two of them have to decide what they're going to do about this new.. pass time.

"If that thing meant nothing to you,

then what was that one thing that one night?

That ain't a question, though it rises an inflection,

it's just a nice way to say it."

-Donovan Woods, Car Won't Start

She didn't think it would hurt so badly to be back in this place: Her lilac eyes surveyed the goings on. Tifa was waving her hand frantically in the air, a smile spread wide across her pretty face. The ninja headed toward her like a beacon. Cloud smiled in welcome as she passed, and Cid barked at her for being late. Late shmate; at least she showed up.

Two little heads dover at her, and she hugged them quickly, dragging them along as her feet never stopped heading to the bartender. Barrett was glad to see her, but she didn't stop to say hello. Her eyes darted to his face, then to his left his right. He was alone. She smiled weakly.

Reeve was standing near Tifa, but he looked away when he saw her. Guilt of knowledge will always render a man prostrate, and Mr. Tuesti indeed knew too much. He's not inside, is he Reeve? She looked away. Tifa's smile had faded and her hand dropped to her side.

"Yuffie?"

Stumbling forward, she had steps to go until she reached that haven. The tall brunette with open arms and a knowing look. "Tifa..."

He didn't think he would go. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to receive her looks, be they loathing or adoring. He didn't want to wade through his thoughts and be wary that his concentration was focused on hiding his looks rather than looking at her.

He didn't know whether to call it luck or misfortune when he was delayed in every possible way when trying to get there. Every time a ship boarding time was delayed, or every instant he was forced to fight any random beast that strayed in his path, he wanted to believe it was fate telling him this was a bad idea. His head told him this was a bad idea. Yet for some reason he plugged on, because there was a relentless driving force behind him-- around him-- inside him?

So it was that the gunslinger didn't show up until long after dinner had been served and the children had been put to bed. He pushed open the screen door of the tavern and halted upon entering, as familiar eyes and hesitant smiles greeted him.

"'Bout fucking time, Valentine."

Crimson eyes scanned the room for the source of the voice. He was hidden behind his regular haze of smoke. Shera was beside him, and Barrett was not far off. Cloud was standing at the bar.

"Vincent. Glad you could make it."

He managed a nod to his once leader, now friend. Tifa was neither by his side or at her usual post serving drinks and his brow dented slightly, eyes traveling to the staircase that led to the home part of the building, upstairs. At the foot of the staircase, Nanaki sat, speaking quietly with Reeve. The conversation dwindled, dying suddenly when the WRO commissioner's eyes landed on the searching gunman's face.

She isn't here, Tuesti...

The bearded man's eyes flickered up the stairs, and then drifted away to the floor.

Cloud cleared his throat, his quirked eyebrow probing in question.

"Where is Tifa?" Vincent asked.

"Upstairs, with Yuffie."

"When are you going to tell me what's wrong, Yuffie?" Tifa asked softly, petting her friend's unruly hair, keeping her bangs away from her face. The ninja sniffled, but made no attempt to begin to unravel the coils of emotion stored in her head.

"My heart hurts," she whispered, not for the first time. The bartender sighed sympathetically, weaving her slender fingers through her hair once again, soothing the head that lay on her lap.

"You're okay, Yuffs. I've got you." She held her a little closer, closing her eyes against tears. The young ninja was so distraught, so emotionally vulnerable that she could not even open up to her: her closest friend. Female friend, anyway. The barmaid had suspicions that the Intelligence Agent's partner Vincent Valentine may have surpassed her in that respect. She looked down at the dark mess of hair resting on her thighs and sighed again. Perhaps that was why the girl was upset; Vincent had not come to the reunion, although no one had expected him to. He only made an appearance once or twice a year, while reunions were held at least once a season. "Yuffie? Have you seen Vincent lately?"

A sob. Tifa winced.

"Is he what this is all about, honey?" She always thought Vincent was a decent man, but there were always warnings going off in her head about allowing herself to get too close to him, because from her objective viewpoint she could see the giant stone wall around him, and she knew she did not have the strength to attempt to tackle it. She would do her best to be his friend, but he would have to knock it down himself.

She wondered why Yuffie hadn't been able to assess this as she had. Yes, she was young and naive, but Yuffie was not altogether stupid.

"My heart hurts."

Cloud didn't like to butt into anyone's business, in fact he made an effort to stay away from everyone's personal lives the best he could, so long as they did not collide with his own: he had spent too long running away from his problems. So when Vincent asked where Tifa was, Cloud took this into personal consideration, making a very distinct point of informing him she was not alone upstairs, and watched with a measure of annoyance as an unguarded pained look crossed the gunman's face.

He watched him carefully as he approached the bar himself, quirking an eyebrow at the dark man's ingrained frown. "What's it to you?" he questioned. Tifa had always put too much effort into befriending the lone gunslinger than he had personally approved of, but of course, he had to give him the opportunity to explain himself.

"I was disappointed not to see her," he murmured quietly, eyes fixed to the bar top.

Cloud's brow knit. "Well she lives here ya know. If you stuck around you might catch a glimpse of her. Why so impatient? You don't have a thing for her, do you?" His voice was dangerously low and all too threatening. He deserved the knowing smirk from the older man.

"I was talking about Yuffie," he corrected. He did not need to speak for his second reprimand to take effect, for a blush quickly colored Cloud's cheeks. "It isn't me who has a thing for Tifa."

Suddenly his mind cleared. "Yuffie?"

The gunman gave a guarded curt nod. "I guessed she would not come."

"Yuffie always comes. It was you we were thinking wouldn't show."

Garnet eyes flashed at the swordsman, but no words were said. Even so, there was meaning behind the look, a meaning that the blond simply could not grasp.

"Is she asleep?"

Cloud's brow dented again. "I don't know. Why?"

Vincent said nothing but pushed away from the bar, striding purposefully toward the stairwell. His eyes locked on Reeve as he passed him, and the man looked up guiltily from where he sat next to Red XIII. His lips were drawn and his eyes worried. Cloud hesitated until he saw the WRO commissioner's expression then decidedly followed the gunman upstairs.

"Why are you following me?" He didn't look back to address him, just sounded the question bluntly, its sharpness resonating in the echoing stairway.

"Because you're acting weird," the blond explained bluntly, "and something is up with Yuffie. With the two of you not yourselves, I'm not letting Tifa deal with this herself."

"There is absolutely nothing to deal with." It was more of an order than a statement. "I was about to send Tifa down to keep you company."

The former AVALANCHE leader snorted in an entirely unbelieving fashion, and continued to track the ex-Turk's footsteps, watching him poke his head into various rooms until he came upon the one holding a brunette bartender and a petite princess.

A hush surrounded them, and then;

"Tifa, get me a tranquilizer."

"Why, honey?"

"I'm hallucinating."

Cloud pushed past Vincent into the room, looking around wildly for the supposedly sick ninja. He found her on the floor, her head resting in Tifa's lap. He gulped and looked at his friend. "Is she dying?"

"No," Vincent said, no louder than a whisper. His eyes were closed and his head was bowed.

The small woman was squirming, moving herself so that she faced Tifa instead of the scene before her.

The barmaid's eyes (beautiful mahogany) looked up, sparkling with unshed tears of worry. "Vincent, will you talk to her? She won't speak to me."

He nodded once, opening his eyes. Cloud noticed him wince when Yuffie murmured a soft phrase into Tifa's stomach. The blond quirked an eyebrow at Tifa (what hurts?) who shook her head.

"Yuffie."

Cloud looked again at Vincent, who had folded his arms across his chest. Yuffie was sitting up, glancing at him with suspicion. He wanted to watch their entire exchange, but a more pressing matter entered his mind and he leaped forward to offer a hand to Tifa. He smiled when she took it and he hauled her to her feet. He noticed then that she was almost as tall as he was, and he only had to tilt his head down a little bit to... She turned away from him, brow furrowed as she watched Yuffie struggle to her feet.

Vincent cleared his throat. "Cloud."

He got the hint. What the hell was up with these two? Had Yuffie done something to Vincent she was guilty for? Yuffie wasn't capable of hurting a soul past stealing one's materia, and they had all forgiven her for that one on several occasions previously. Plus, she didn't look guilty, she looked sad and scared and hurt...

Had Vincent hurt her? A flare of protectiveness blazed in the swordsman, and his eyes darted back and forth between the odd pair. "Nuh-uh. I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me why the both of you look like the world is about to fall out from underneath you."

Cloud looked at Vincent. The gunslinger had resumed his earlier pained expression; his eyes closed and his head bowed solemnly.

Yuffie, however, looked him straight in the eye. "Because it is."

He could hear everything that was going on perfectly. Unfortunately, at this time of night, Denzel was not sure if this was a blessing or a curse. He groaned sleepily and rolled onto his side, facing the apparently thin wall separating his room from the room in which all the drama was unfolding. He could hear Cloud's boots on the hardwood, and Tifa's lighter footsteps. He quickly closed his eyes and delayed his breathing as he waited for the inevitable: indeed the door peaked open and light washed over him, except for a shadow that was no doubt caused by Tifa's silhouette. He heard the door click closed and he let out a sigh of relief, choosing to listen again to what was being said from the next room.

Except, what was being said was nothing. He wondered if they were just speaking too low for him to hear; Vincent had always been a quiet kind of guy, but when he trained his ear more finely, he still could not pick up a trace of sound or movement. Maybe they had left too, while he was focused on hiding his wakefulness from his adoptive-- he still didn't know what to call her, mom sounded too fake, caregiver too sterile. He resolved to maintain his regiment of calling her Tifa.

His pondering was interrupted by a sound-- a shuffling of feet as someone moved across the floor. By the sound of a metallic scrape, he guessed it to be Vincent.

"Cloud says you are not yourself."

"Tifa says there's ice cream downstairs. Want some? It's not black cherry, your favorite, but it's that heavenly hash stuff, you know the one with the nuts and chunks of chocolate I made you try last time we were in Costa del Sol?"

"Yuffie..."

"I can't remember if you liked it or not. Oh yeah, you said it was 'heavenly'. And I laughed at you, remember? Because it was lame."

"I remember." He sounded resigned to listening to her rambling. Denzel snorted softly, knowing he was likely better off to let her talk- Yuffie never shut up.

She was chuckling nervously, like she did when she was in trouble. Was she in some kind of trouble? "You know, Vince, I'm really glad you made it tonight."

"As am I."

"I was afraid you were avoiding me."

Denzel cocked an eyebrow, a habit he picked up from Cloud. Vincent never replied.

"I half expected you to, you know, and when I got here and you weren't..." She broke off with a laugh again. "I just... hoped we could forget about it. That sound good?"

A pause, and then; "You regret..."

"Gawd, no!"

Denzel winced. At that volume, she would surely wake up Marlene.

"No, Vinnie. I mean, I would, if it meant that you were going to avoid me and we couldn't be friends anymore, because that is the very last thing in the world I want."

He was silent for a measure more time, giving Denzel an opportunity to equate the situation. What was Yuffie supposedly regretting?

"What do you want, Yuffie?"

Nervous chuckle, shuffling of feet. "Good question." The boy could picture quite clearly the image of Yuffie in her typical thoughtful pose-- looking at the ground and scratching the back of her neck. "I guess I don't know. Gawd, do I have to know? I want a banana split. No, rum and coke. I want to go to bed and sleep in until one in the afternoon. I want to forget, I want to remember. I want you, but I don't know why, but I do know why, and it's tearing me up!"

Denzel suddenly felt very invasive, and quickly pulled the pillow out from under his head and jammed it over his ears. Whatever was going on in that room, he no longer wanted to know. Gross.

She heard them from her bedroom, woken from the middle of what was beginning to be a horrible dream, anyway. Yuffie's comfortingly familiar voice had drawn her from it, and Vincent's steady and calming replies reminding her of the sense of safety he always presented, as well as a long crimson cape to hide from monsters in. Stuffed moogle in hand, she made for their voices like beacons. She paused at the door however, for it seemed as if something important was transpiring. She buried her face in the comforting plush of her toy and watched from the shadows as her two friends and guardians looked at each other in a stunted silence.

"I'm sorry Vince." She was blushing, and Marlene wondered what kind of trouble she had gotten into this time. "I don't know what else to say. I can't help it."

He was looking at her in an odd way, a way she had seen Cloud look at Tifa on a number of occasions. She had never asked him about it, however, because it always looked like a hurtful affair: In Vincent's eyes it looked no less painful, but instead of shaking his head and walking away like Cloud usually did, the gunman did something different: he spoke.

"You know why I came, don't you?"

"Tifa's cooking?" His silence told her no. "So I wouldn't think you're avoiding me?"

"That was part of it. I came because I needed to tell you..." He shook his head, and Marlene clutched at the door frame, willing him to continue rather than just walk away like Cloud usually did. She didn't understand what he was doing, but she felt there were words needing to be said; things to be finished. With a soft exhaled breath of relief she smiled as he looked back at the ninja. "I have not known what I want for many years, but Yuffie..."

"That night..."

"...it was..."

"...perfect..."

"...I want..."

"...Vincent..."

The little girl held her breath as she watched as he crossed the distance that separated them, his human fingers raking roughly through short ninja hair and tilting her head back enough that his lips hovered over them. "You."

The moogle provided a place to hide her face when they his lips sealed hers, and they inhaled each other in a way that promised this had not been the first time, even to a little girl. Said girl was peeking over the top of the moogle head, grinning like a madman. She didn't know why, for she thought the idea of this kissing rather disgusting (Vincent's tongue had just touched Yuffie's) but she was overwhelmed with a sense of relief and satisfaction. She was happy, and she knew there would be no monsters when she turned from the heartening scene and climbed back into bed.

He prayed to Gaia they were having sex. Right now. Please Gods, relieve the tension. Reeve looked down at his hand of cards, and tossed them onto the table. "Fold."

"Hah!" Cid pushed more chips to the center. "I'll see that ten gil, Barrett, and I'll raise you..." his fingers swirled over his stash and selected five, pushing them into the middle as well.

He knew the day they had come home from their last mission that something had happened between the two of them, and it hadn't taken much convincing to get Yuffie to tell him what it was. She was afraid she had contracted Galian Beast from him. He had physically slapped his hand to his forehead, just as he mentally did so now, simply recalling the conversation. "No, Yuffie, I assure you, whatever voices you are hearing in your head are entirely your own."

This was the first time either of them had had the opportunity to see one another since they had come back, and they hadn't exactly parted with new-lover kisses and stolen glances. They had gotten to HQ, walked directly into his office and gave him a brief report of damage, costs and risk assessment in the least amount of words possible. Neither of them looked at one another until Vincent described their fight with the monster occupying the center of the cave, which had nearly killed them both. He had glanced at Yuffie with something almost unsettling in his gaze. "Yuffie endangered her own life in order to spare mine."

The conversation ended there, and they took their packs out into the hall. He had followed them, simply out of curiosity, and watched with a grim expression as they both took off, wordlessly, down the hallway in opposite directions. Vincent was headed for the elevator and Yuffie for a storage closet. Knowing it would be easier to keep up with the dead-end bound ninja he had pursued her and came away with a burden of information.

He hoped beyond hope they were having sex. He'd seen it coming, of course. Vincent hadn't gotten any in... how long? He didn't want to do the math, it'd be far too depressing. Yuffie was the prime candidate-- young, lively... flexible... plus they got along. Somehow. There were some things Reeve chose not to question, and Yuffie and Vincent's relationship was one of them. They were good friends, for certain: that's why they made good partners. Of course, they were both human as well (despite what Vincent claimed) and when it came down to it, humans did some pretty interesting things to sustain themselves, physically, mentally and emotionally.

Now, emotionally, they cared for one another a great deal. Best friends, one might say. Reeve would say it. Hell, he'd testify in court. He just hoped they could get past the physical part and maintain the emotional. Please, please, just have sex, and let friends be friends, and sex be sex.

"Hey, Tuesti. Your deal."

He smiled grimly. "I've got a better idea. Anyone got any guesses as to what's going on upstairs right now?"

Suggestions were produced, guesses made and bets collected on the table. Cid wasn't a fan of this; no, not gambling, the idea of Vincent getting all hot-and heavy with the fucking ninja brat. He growled as Reeve made a comment about having a leg up on them all, having spent more time with them in the past months. Little did he know that he was way off; there was no way that Vampire was boinking that girl. She was way too loud. First off, they'd have heard her, secondly, Vincent would not fuck her. It wasn't rocket science, and he knew rocket science. He gnashed on his cigarette, eyes sliding around the room. Tifa was sitting on top of the bar, looking at her shoes, listening as Nanaki spoke softly to her. Cloud was sitting a ways away, watching her conspicuously. Barrett had just changed his bet from "No Chance in Hell" to "Maybe, if Vincent was Drunk".

"No fucking way. The girl's got morals."

"She stole everyone's materia without a second thought," Barrett said bluntly.

Cid growled. "Fucking ass holes. I ain't dealing with this shit." He stood abruptly, shedding his wife from his lap. "Come on, Shera, lets go to bed."

Shera's eyebrows lifted on her forehead. "You—you want to go up there?"

He set his jaw. "You don't believe this crap, do ya?"

She let a smirk touch her lips, but covered it up quickly. "I don't know either of them as well as you. I cannot possibly judge."

"Ah fucking balls. He better not be touching the kid!" He looked at Cloud and Tifa, who seemed entirely too unconcerned with the accusations. "What about you two?"

Tifa looked at Cloud, gulping. Cloud snorted slightly, tossing his bangs out of his face. "They're at it."

"No fucking way!"

They heard it, but neither cared. He was inside of her, and she was everywhere, everywhere. She couldn't believe how whole she felt. They wouldn't think about the conversations happening below them, or the aspect of friends versus fuck-buddies versus lovers; their minds were trained on each touch, each soft whimper or tiny cry. His lips were trained to hers as she sucked breath from him with each gasp, and breathed life into him with each moan. Her fingers were trained to his scars, tracing their bold lines as if her touch could erase them from the surface of his body. And it seemed to; for he felt only her touch to his skin, not what lay beneath.

Roles were oddly reversed. Yuffie became quiet and reflective, while Vincent's words became the calming constant, giving her something to cling to in the poignant silences.

"Let me draw you into myself."

She should have been shocked at the beautifully articular Wutaiin poetry that fell from his lips, but as he moved inside of her, his lips brushing hers as he spoke, nothing felt more natural. And she tried. She tried so desperately hard to let him.

"Suck me into your soul."

Author's Note: The last bit with the poetry is a link directly back to "Where We Collide" as well. In fact, I suggest you go read it, if you haven't already.

I liked this. The different perspectives were fun to write. If anyone's wondering, I did a joint perspective in that last section... you know, Yuffie and Vincent being one person in the act of coitus... huh, clever. Anyways, reviews are greatly appreciated, should you feel so inclined. Oh, and ps. I do intend on writing a prequel to this prequel. haha. An account of the actual first time. It's half done.