A Rose By Any Other Name

  *

  "Damn it."

  Vincent heard a tell-tale sniff, and his brow furrowed. He set the bag of lunch upon the grass near the tree opposite the would-be generator. "What is it?" he asked as he approached.

  Vincent found Natalie sitting tailor-style behind the metal box, tools and books splayed out in front of her, grease smudges still coloring her face, and a bit of blood on varying knuckles. She rested her elbows/arms on her knees as she stared into the box, a trail of tears fighting against the grease on her cheeks.

  Vincent knelt beside her.

  Natalie blinked, turning her face slightly to the left. She gave a tremulous smile. "Oh. Hello."

  "What has happened?"

  She sighed. Then she stood, brushing the debris from her worn jeans. "I must not have read a section right. I fried a circuit board." And her voice caught on the tears of frustration.

  Vincent stood as well, intensely watching her face. The expression of disappointment and grief grabbed his cold heart and twisted. "We have more," he reminded.

  "I know. I just . . . I simply didn't want to waste them on my stupid mistakes."

  Vincent raised an eyebrow. "You cannot blame yourself when you aren't familiar with--"

  "I know." Natalie sighed again, raising her gaze to his face. "At this juncture, I think it would help everyone if I took a break."

  Vincent nodded and gestured toward the tree some 20 feet away. "I brought dinner."

  "You did?" Natalie smiled. "Thank you."

  He walked beside her to the tree. "You were distracted, understandably so, and apparently didn't hear what I intended."

  "Oh." Natalie flushed, sending him an occasional sidelong glance. "I do that sometimes. Sorry."

  Vincent held her hand to steady her as she sat. "I know." He sat beside her and handed her the bag. "Tuna sandwich and grape juice. I asked them to make it less sweet than what is normally requested."

  Natalie's eyes widened as she took the bag. "How did . . .?"

  "The aroma of tuna and grape juice is hard to confuse with anything else."

  "You mean . . .? The picnics I had down there . . .? Oh my gosh." Natalie stared down at the bag in her hand.

  Vincent examined her face. "What is it?"

  "N-Nothing." She reached inside and pulled out the grape juice, unscrewing the plastic lid after giving it a collection of firm shakes. "I hope Red and Yuffie get back soon with that waterwheel."

  "You should show me where you will need the wheel installed before they arrive."

  Natalie met his gaze, lowering the bottle of grape juice as an eyebrow arched upward. "Why?"

  "'Why?' No one else will be able to install it without falling into the river below."

  "But . . . won't the waterwheel be heavy? I don't want you to fall in either."

  Vincent's lips relaxed into a slight smile. "I hadn't intended to."

  "All the same, I would feel more comfortable if we fixed a rope to it and lowered it down to you. Once you have a firm position, of course."

  "While the concern is appreciated, it isn't necessary."

  Natalie set aside her grape juice with a deliberate action, her eyes focusing on her fingers that still held the bottle. "Vincent, there will be a rope attached to the waterwheel. It will be lowered to you once you're safely positioned, and you will have a safety harness attached."

  Amusement lifted the corners of his lips. "Yes, Professor."

  Natalie cast Vincent a sheepish smile. "Thank you."

  He examined her profile, the slight flush of her cheeks, the uncertain smile, the persistent innocence. "No one has cared one way or the other." He looked away, gaze focusing on the distant horizon. "Have they?" But the memories wouldn't come.

  "What about your father?" she asked hesitantly.

  Vincent shook his head. "I don't remember. It has been too long."

  She focused on the sandwich in her hands, her fingers picking at the crust. "I am sorry you don't remember your family," she whispered.

  Vincent felt the surprising warmth of comfort from the statement.

  "Yo, Vinnie! Nat! Where are ya?"

  Vincent stood. "Eat. I will see what Yuffie and Red have brought."

  Natalie lifted her chin in a slight nod.

  He stood and made his way to the path leading toward Nibelheim. Yuffie and Red were coming up the way. "Yuffie. Red. Did you find one?"

  "As a matter of fact," Red started.

  "Damn straight," Yuffie guffawed, "and the thing's huge!"

  "Where is it?" Vincent asked as he met them. The trio stopped.

  Yuffie jerked over her shoulder. "Back in the buggy. Too heavy. Can you give us a hand?"

  "Of course."

  "I will see how Natalie is coming on the generator," Red said before moving on.

  Vincent and Yuffie made their way back to Nibelheim. "So how is Nat doin' on the thing?" she asked.

  "She seems to have damaged a circuit board."

  "So? We've got more."

  Vincent nodded. "I know. I told her." He cast Yuffie a sidelong glance. "She demands perfection from herself in everything."

  "Hm. Kinda figured." Yuffie motioned back the way she had come. "It's this way. Come on."