Final Fantasy VII: Lifestream - Book 3: Pursuit

FORTY-SIX

Tifa looked cautiously at her. "Has he ever...?"

"Hit me?" Shera finished. "No. Never. He's a much better man than that. And although he sometimes does yell at me, he always finds some way to make it up to me later. Thoughtful little things he does for me. I think it's his way of apologizing. He's not very good at talking about his feelings, so he lets his actions speak for him."

"What kind of things?" I wondered.

She smiled. "Well, last week, after he'd gotten a little upset with me for taking too long to finish up my inspection reports of the newest set of repairs to the rocket, he fixed my telescope without even telling me. I just found it on the back porch later that day with the lenses not only repaired but in even better condition than before."

I chuckled. "That's sweet."

"Yes," Shera chuckled. "He does have a softer side, hard as it might be to believe. Another time, after he complained his tea was too cold, I just walked into the kitchen later that night to start making dinner and found a new teapot on the stove. And in my favorite color, no less. Last year I was sick for a week, and he never left my side. He told me he just didn't want to lose time on repairs to the rocket, but... he couldn't hide how worried he was about me, even though he tried."

Just then, we all looked up at the sound of a Shinra chopper flying in low and landing in the airfield behind the house. Cid came back in a moment later, joining us in the kitchen and waiting expectantly, a glare on his stubbled face that wasn't directed at any of us. His gloved hands were on his hips as he looked out the nearby window.

"About fuckin' time," he muttered. Then he looked over at us. "Hey, uh... about that flight you wanted. Once things cool down and I've had a little chat with the president, I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks," Cloud replied.

A minute or two later, there was a knock on the door. Shera took a deep breath, a mix of anxiety and hope in her eyes, and shared a glance with Cid. I watched them, seeing an unmistakable flicker of tenderness in his for a moment as he gazed at her. This was a moment they'd been waiting years for. Shera's hand found his, squeezing it gently, and while he didn't acknowledge it, he didn't let go at first, either.

"Good luck, Cid," she murmured.

He nodded. "See to our guests, Shera. Still need to make 'em tea."

She gave him a soft smile. "Of course."

When Cid moved to the door and opened it, an overweight guy in a brown business suit bounded in, balding and gray. Palmer. Although I'd never met him during my Shinra days, I'd seen the hologram in that disgusting museum while I'd been there and knew who he was. He was a short, squat, and useless bureaucrat who looked to be in his sixties or so. He didn't seem to recognize us, though.

"Well, hello there, Cid!" he grinned, as if he and Cid were a pair of old friends. "It's been a long time. How've you been?"

Cid scowled. "Cut the bullshit, Palmer. You're late."

Palmer gulped. "Sorry about that. Unavoidable delays, you see. We had to get everything in order for... well, we're here now!"

"Delays, my ass!" Cid grunted. "So, is the space program gonna be restarted? How long until we launch? The rocket's more or less ready to go, I just need to make a few more adjustments."

Palmer shrugged. "I don't know, Cid. You should ask the president, he's right outside. He can tell you all that."

"Useless piece of shit," Cid muttered, brushing past him.

Once he was out the door, Palmer went over to Shera, ignoring us for the time being. "Why, hello, there! Tea? My, my, such good timing! Is it ready? Make sure there's plenty of sugar and honey. And of course, don't forget the lard! That's the best part!"