Baby Steps Ch. 2

It had been a couple of weeks since Tifa cut his hair, and now it was as short as when he was a Turk.  He'd been a little hesitant about letting her cut so much, but after it was done, he realized how much more relaxed he felt without the extra weight.

That night, Tifa and Cloud had offered to let him stay at their place for a while.

"You know, to relax.  This has been...quite the ordeal."

He agreed that it had been a while since he was able to just...be.  It would be nice to have a chance to find himself again.

The fact that Tifa was cooking was no small part in his acceptance of the offer.

Being around the small family helped, he thought, in his search for his new normal.  Everyday, he'd ask himself:

'Just what kind of man am I now?  What am I going to learn today that will get me just a little closer to the result?'

The answer was usually simple.

He was a man who opened doors for women, but offered no easy smiles.

He was so-so at cooking, which was a large step better than Cloud.

He loved reading action-thriller fictions.  The government conspiracies were his favorites.

He absolutely loathed dirty sinks and counters. (And where the Hell that came from, he'd never know.)

Other lessons were a bit harder to decipher and understand.

He had to take several days to figure out just where he fit in to everyone's lives and they, his.

He was Tifa's brother, as well as Cloud's.  He was best friends with Cid and a wonderfully efficient friend to Reeve.  He and Barret may not say much to each other, but they've got each others' backs without a doubt.  Nanaki was a very close friend and confidant.  He's still stumped on Yuffie, but he knows that Marlene and Denzel are just itching to introduce their "Uncle Vince" to their friends from school.

Speaking of kids, he's learned he's really not cut out for them.  Well, correction.  He's a Marlene and Denzel kind of guy.  But children in general are horrifying germ and snot factories.  He watched as a friend of the kids' coughed in to his hand, wiped his nose with the same palm, then reach out to grab a banana from the (Vincent Approved) clean counter.  It felt as though a little piece of him had died while watching it, unable to stop the boy in time.  Yuffie had noticed the forlorn look on his face and 'Nyuk nyuk nyuk'ed.  He sighed.

But the point of the lesson was that Marlene and Denzel were their own brand of children.  He liked their brand.

He had promised to help cook supper, since Tifa came down with a nasty case of the flu.  Yuffie was helping since he had forbidden Cloud from returning to the kitchen during Tifa's absence.  It's bad when the kids are allowed, but the father isn't.  At first he had been a bit worried over Yuffie joining him to help, but she soon proved herself invaluable.

Watching her pull ingredients out of the fridge, he absently checked the cans he was pulling from the pantry.  Tonight was a stir fry with zesty herb chicken.  He could do a stir fry, no problem, but the chicken recipe called for the use of the oven.

The oven hates Vincent Valentine, therefore Yuffie took the job.

What Vincent hadn't counted on was the close, cramped quarters of the kitchen.  Every step he took, his boots were hitting something, the pointed tips usually causing scratches and ridges in the wood.  When Tifa next saw her kitchen wounded like so, he was likely to find a steel toe boot planted firmly on his cheek for just a fraction of a second.  She had killed larger men in less time.

After the thirtieth time, or so, of bumping in to the wall, cabinets or doors he finally growled low and bent down.

"Uh...Vince?  What are you doing?" Denzel asked.

He sighed, unzipping the leather of his boots for easy removal.  Once off, they got placed just outside the kitchen door,  A moment later and he was standing next to Yuffie again, but in his socks, cutting vegetables.

Yuffie sidled a little closer and bumped her elbow against his arm.

"Could you not do that while I'm holding a very sharp knife?"

She ignored him and spoke." So, what's gonna replace them?"

He shrugged.

"Haven't given it much thought.  Why?"

"Just curious if this was planned."

He shook his head," No.  No plans.  It happens as it happens."

She smirked as if just pulling a heist right under his nose, and him none the wiser.  He eyed her cautiously and continued to do so for the rest of the day.

It wasn't until the next afternoon, once he'd let his guard down, he realized he'd been played.

At every shop he went to for new boots, the staff discouraged him from certain types of footwear.  In other words, anything that even remotely resembled his current pair was pushed away.  Meanwhile, nice simple, black leather, ankle to mid-calf height, steel toe was brought to his attention straight away.

A part of him wanted to curse her name until he was blue in the face.  Another part was confused as Hell as to how she'd pulled off something like this in such short time.  The last part sort of wanted to thank her for wanting to help him be a new him.  It was like all three parts warred for dominance.  He wanted to smack her around a bit for being nosy, then ask "What the Hell?!"  All before hugging the stuffing out of her, which was a totally new feeling.

Hey, maybe he was already changing.

In the end, he chose steel toe combat boots, similar to the kind worn in SOLDIER.  Those damn boots lasted forever and he'd definitely be getting his money's worth out of them if they were of any decent quality.

Once he was back in his room, he pulled them out of the box and studied them while holding them.  Black leather was held together with white stitching, while the black rubber sole was given thick and well mapped tread.  Black laces crisscrossed behind three black belts with silver buckles.  A bit of brightness to stand out against all the dark.  A bit much like him at the moment.  They would eventually wear and tear, but the buckles would still shine bright with a bit of polishing.

He grinned at the imagery, and set the boot down in its box before reaching to unzip his current boots.  He took a deep breath and slowly pulled the clasp.  Once they were both off, he heaved a sigh and wiggled his toes.  One more glance to each pair, his stare lingering longer on the newer ones, he came to a decision.  He had no plans for the rest of the day.  What need did he have for boots at the moment?  He would enjoy a day free of the constriction before donning his purchase.

As he was walking out his bedroom door, he glanced back at both pairs resting beside his bed and smirked as another bar loosened on the cage.