A Rose By Any Other Name

  *

  . . .The darkness pushed at Vincent with suffocating clarity. Beasts howled, and inhuman monsters groaned with anger, misery, and uncontrolled fury and vengeance. Leering at him. Accusing him of forgetting their power. Of taking what they gave him for granted. He pushed away from their scrabbling claws, scrambling backward.

  "I never wanted you," his hissed "I never craved your power nor your presence." A claw dug into his arm and ripped at his sleeve. He jerked free, flinching as the talons tore into his flesh. "Your strength wanes, dark spirits. Your life force drains. Could it be that her lovely hands have bound you?"

  They howled, and the red eyes glowing within the darkness faded to mere shadows. Whispers of inhumanity and callousness.

  Vincent stood to his feet, pulling a sleek gun from a holster on his hip. "I bid thee farewell, Hojo. All your creations will vanish. All your power ceases to exist in this world I have chosen. In this life I share with a woman unrestricted by the desire for vengeance. Do you feel it? Do you taste the bitterness of defeat on your lips?"

  He shot into the darkness and heard a wail of death. "You creatures of the night will receive no more shadows. No more feeding from the despair long harbored in my soul. I am free of you." Vincent laughed, firing into the night again and again.

  A figure leaped from the gloom and tackled him, burying its teeth and claws into his flesh. Vincent pushed and beat at the thing with his gun and fists, but still it dug in. Biting back a growl of pain, he shoved the barrel of his gun under the thing's chin. Their eyes locked. Red and Brown. Vincent and Vincent.

  "She wants me," it hissed. "You are weak. You are not enough to satisfy her hunger."

  Vincent's eyes narrowed, and strength surged into his limbs. "She wants me, for she is the one who designed the cure from you."

  The two grappled, dodging blows and causing bruises to form and blood to fall. Minutes faded to hours but still they fought, hurling insults and fists. Vincent detected a deterioration of strength in his hated alter-ego and seized the opportunity, kicking him back and scrambling to his feet.

  Red eyes glared up at him and the barrel of his gun. "You cannot kill what you know yourself to be."

  "I can kill what I detest, creation of Hojo. You." Red eyes widened and Vincent fired--blackness swallowed--pasts exploded outward--

  --Vincent's eyes snapped open and gauged his surroundings. Another dream. But this, in Nibelheim outside Shinra mansion, ages before Sephiroth became twisted with his evil desire for godhood. He focused his attention on the solitary figure standing outside the gate of the Shinra Mansion and blinked. "Lucrecia."

  Lucrecia faced him, expression sorrowful. "Vincent." She looked down, removing her glasses to self-consciously tuck them into the breast pocket of her white lab-coat. "You've been gone a long time."

  "I know."

  She once more met his gaze. "Why?"

  Vincent heard a whisper on the breeze and glanced behind him. "I have a chance for a different life now," he told her. No one approached. He focused again on Lucrecia's pained expression. "A chance at a better one with a woman who loves what I am, what I was, and what I could be."

  Her eyes darkened. "Do you love her?"

  Vincent nodded, something within making him keep his distance from the shade of his past. "I do." Another whisper was heard, and he again focused behind him, eyes searching the horizon and the town.

  "You once said you loved me," she accused softly.

  "I did." He faced her, remembering another history that seemed so--distant. "That was another life. Another Vincent."

  Lucrecia frowned. "Another Vincent? There is no other Vincent. There is you, and you said you loved me. What right does she have to take you away?"

  Vincent watched her face for a long moment, waiting for any hint of the tenderness he once felt. It didn't come. "As you made your decision to be with Hojo, I have made my decision to be with her."

  "Because she gave you what you wanted," she retorted. "She's manipulating you!"

  "No," Vincent pressed, "because I love her."

  Lucrecia's face twisted with misery.

  "I love her, Lucrecia," he said again. "I want to dream of her. I want her to bear my children. I want to share her agonies and successes. I want to grow old and die . . . with her." He shook his head, and the whisper caressed his brain. "You cannot stay here. There is no longer any place for you in my dreams."

  Her chin tilted upward. "I don't believe you."

  "Lucrecia." Vincent stepped forward to rest a hand on her shoulder. He met her gaze. "Lucy, rest. Sleep. Remember the good times, as I will, and let yourself fade to a pleasant memory."

  "Vincent . . . Vincent, please . . . ."

  He dropped his hand from her shoulder and turned away, allowing the whisper to draw him toward the voice.

  He heard a sigh behind him and the breath of a kiss on his cheek. "Good-bye, Vincent. My Turk."

  "Good-bye, Lucrecia."--

  --Vincent bolted upright. "Natalie!"

  And then her remembered warmth and fragrance was in his arms, surrounding him. "Vincent--thank god--I thought you were dying. Vincent. Oh, Vincent . . . ." She continued to sob his name even as she kissed his mouth and face.

  Vincent pulled her tight against him, relishing the luscious warmth of her body against him, the sweet taste of her lips on his, the heavenly sparks of her hands in his hair, and the blessed freedom of silence in his mind.

  XVII

  NEW BEGINNINGS

  Two Years Later

  The woman with the long red curls smiled down at her swollen abdomen, caressing it just as there came a vicious kick. "Vincent. One of them is kicking again. Hurry."

  Vincent Valentine, husband and soon-to-be father of twins, knelt down to spread his hands wide across her belly. There was another kick, and he smiled up at her. "This one will be strong."

  "Or just stubborn," Natalie Valentine laughed down at him as he kissed her belly. "I can't wait to find out."

  "You promised not to deliver until after the reactor was activated. Remember?"

  Natalie's eyes twinkled with a mischievous smile as she once again began stirring the stew bubbling a content rhythm on the stove. "I know, but when they want out there will be little I can say about it." Vincent massaged her shoulders. Natalie moaned and closed her eyes. "I will give you about a hundred years to stop that."

  Vincent chuckled and pulled her closer against him, his hands caressing her bulging middle. "Have you ever been to Midgar?"

  "Not since high school. I didn't like it. Not enough history." Natalie sighed and pulled away to turn off the heat of the stove. "It will be interesting to see what Barret and the others have accomplished. Cid said the geothermal reactors are his latest feat of genius."

  "Genius that he wouldn't have thought of without your help on the design."

  Natalie chuckled. "I don't mind." She turned to hand him the bowls and silverware. Then she caressed his cheek. "I have all I need right here."

  Vincent's eyes twinkled with his smile as he brought her palm to his lips. Then he turned for the table and set out the bowls and silverware before turning to the cupboard for the glasses. "Can you believe it has been two years?"

  "No. No, I can't. It seems like just yesterday. Yet here I am, married, owner and dean of the Valentine School for Gifted Children--formerly known as Shinra Mansion--doing research on the further rehabilitation of the planet in the basement laboratory that housed so many evil research projects before, and about to give birth to twins." Natalie released a deep breath as she handed Vincent the hot pads to move the stew from the stove to the hot plate on the table. "Life couldn't get better."

  "It will if they are both boys."

  Natalie laughed. "You and your dream of an all boy family. Can't I have at least one little girl?"

  Vincent swept the curls from the delicate curve of her neck and nibbled. "I don't wish you to be jealous of a daughter quite yet."

  "You silly man." Natalie
caressed his cheek. "Come on, Vincent. Eat your stew. We need to leave early in the morning if we're going to make Midgar before dark."