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Chapter Text

It was almost dawn when a bleary eyed Elena stumbled back to her apartment. Her leather shoes were caked in blood, her suit was damp from the evening’s ‘persuasion session’, and all she wanted to do was to flop onto her bed and go to sleep. After shutting the door quietly behind her like a good neighbour ought to do, the blonde Turk kicked off her shoes, pulled off her socks, and shucked her pants off right there and then in the hallway. Too tired to do anything more than run a makeup wipe across her face while yawning, Elena dropped her jacket and tie on the bathroom floor. She briefly considered taking off her bra, but decided reaching behind her back was too much effort to be bothered with. Elena padded unsteadily into her bedroom, which was empty as per expectation since the petite blonde technically lived alone. But even in the faint morning twilight peeking through her curtains, Elena could make out quite clearly that her bed had already been slept in. 

Mackerel, the cat who had adopted the Turk since her Wall Market days, made his presence hard to miss even though he had slipped back out to prowl the neighbourhood hours ago. There was fur scattered all over her bedspread, as if to remind Elena who the owner of the bed truly was. A wee hairball deposited as a sign of the feline’s displeasure of not having received pets and scritches during his visit to her apartment. And the blonde Turk had no doubt that if she were to peer into the kitchen now, she would find the bowl of dry cat food she usually kept in the corner tipped over. She could easily picture Mackerel chewing a mouthful or two before swapping at the bowl in protest of the lack of a Turk poaching fresh fish for his enjoyment. 

Sephiroth, her silver companion who declared himself to be seven percent feline, was the opposite – his presence was marked by absence. There was an indent in the middle of the mattress, indicating the spot where the general had curled up all night while waiting for her. The two metre hank of soldier was hardly moved once he settled down into a spot, creating the said void in the mattress. The loss of structural integrity of one of her pillows, a result of being embosomed by Sephiroth for hours upon end when he lacked a honey blonde to embrace. A particularly perplexing outcome, considering how tenderly he typically held onto Elena as she slept. And the blonde Turk had no doubt that if she were to examine her fridge now, she would find the mystery meats to have disappeared into her silver companion’s superior digestive system. 

Clicking her tongue, the petite blonde balled up the hairball in a paper towel before tossing it into the waste basket. Elena then slipped under the sheets, too exhausted to be bothered by Mackerel’s shredding; she simply flipped her pillow over so that she had a fur-free spot to rest her cheek against. Elena arranged herself within the soldier-shaped hollow, and let herself pretend she was absorbing his residual body heat. Yawning, the Turk sent off a text to the silver soldier’s PHS just before she crossed the boundary into sleep: you owe me a new pillow . It was a petulant proxy for the i miss you , wish you were here , i want to see you soon type of messages that the petite blonde could have probably sent in another life.

Chapter Text

Two twenty in the morning; the sleepless silver soldier was languidly tracing the geometrical patterns on the bedsheets with his middle finger. Having spent most of his life rotating in and out of dormitories, hospitals and the battlefield, Sephiroth retained a fascination with linens that were not plain white. In addition, Elena’s bedsheets were soft and infused with a bouquet of satisfying scents — the laundry detergent of her choice, the body lotion she used with some regularity, and of the honey blonde herself. The general turned onto his side, smooshing his nose into the pillow as he peered at the petite Turk, deep in slumber while lying on her back. He was in the midst of counting her eyelashes when Elena flipped onto her side, and her left palm landed squarely on Sephiroth’s face. As his cheek heated up with pain, the silver soldier grinned as he recalled the first time he discovered that Elena was a restless sleeper. That afternoon, he was aimlessly scrolling through his PHS while the petite blonde was having a siesta. One moment he was composing a text to Zack Fair, and the next moment his PHS was skidding across the bedroom floor, making Elena’s cat almost jump out of his skin. While Sephiroth was trying to make sense of what the heck had just happened, Elena rolled onto her side and jammed her knee straight into his belly. Fun times, or something like that. 

There was no pattern to the honey blonde’s movements while asleep, or at least none that the silver could establish. Some nights, she slept straight through unmoving like a mako reactor. Other times she stirred every so often, but would drift right back to sleep whilst making some sort of contact with him; a caress along his jawline, her fingers curling around his hair, or pressing her cold toes against his shin. And then there were nights such as this, whereby Elena flailed about like she was bashing her way out of a dark alley with bandits snapping at her heels. Her kicks had the ability to knock the wind out of the silver soldier, and he always wondered how she slept through giving him stinging smacks the way that she did. Regardless, Sephiroth never once flinched away from Elena, nor tried to intercept her sleeping strikes, for he did not wish to risk waking her up. His enhanced cells smothered away all signs of bruising or swelling by the time she woke up, and he rather that she remained none the wiser about her slumbering incursions. 

The silver soldier had no counter attack, but he did have a containment strategy to deploy. Sephiroth waited patiently for Elena to curl back into herself like a shrimp before he slithered close, pressing his chest against her back. His arms wound around her torso and caged in her arms, while he swung a thigh across her hips to pin down her legs. This tactic required a careful balance of utilising enough strength to keep Elena’s thrashing limbs under control, and giving ample space to avoid the petite blonde waking up with complaints of being squished. Within the goldilocks zone, Elena twitched harmlessly as she slept on and Sephiroth was safe from being thwacked left and right. Holding the honey blonde like a human bolster was rather an enjoyable experience, allowing the silver soldier to be close enough to sync his breathing to hers. Sephiroth nuzzled her nape contently, before resting his cheek against the curve of her neck. Notwithstanding the pleasure of holding Elena close, the silver soldier drifted off into sleep while keeping the proverbial one eye open, mindful the petite blonde might launch into a self-defence move that would highly likely involve an attack at his groin area. 

Three thirty in the morning; a dull ache stabbed the small of the petite blonde's back. Elena's honey brown snapped open like a microwave door, and she sleepily took stock of her surroundings. Darkness and silence enveloped her bed, and she herself was cocooned within a pair of sinewy arms. The rotund thigh slung across her hip was pinning her lower body down at an awkward angle; she was going to have body aches for the next couple of days. Elena stifled a sigh as she continued to lay still, a weary smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Talk about being careful what you wish for – many a time, the petite blonde had burrowed herself within Sephiroth’s embrace, luxuriating in his body heat and overwhelming presence. However, being embosomed by a silver soldier with a really strong grip had its downsides. It was practically impossible to slip out of Sephiroth’s grasp without waking him up, which Elena loathed to do. This not only meant a sore neck and lower back pain, but having to ignore the complaints of a parched throat or full bladder. There was also the agony of trying to fall back to sleep whilst still trapped in such an uncomfortable position. The blonde Turk yawned as she acknowledged the silver lining of such an ordeal: she was chalking up experience points for surveillance. Elena’s suited colleagues had remarked on how she had taken to stake out missions, like a sea worm to water. 

There was no reason for her silver companion’s intermittent tenacity, or at least none that the blonde could discern. Despite his enthusiasm for wearing her like a second skin during sex and holding her close in the afterglow, Sephiroth was not a particularly cuddlesome individual. There was evidence that after Elena had fallen asleep, her silver companion always slipped away from bed. Often, he raided her kitchen and cleaned out the mystery meats in her fridge. Other times he entertained the honey blonde’s pet cat, or perhaps it was more accurate to describe it as Sephiroth preventing Mackerel from scratching up his pauldrons. Occasionally the silver soldier ran a load of laundry, losing himself in the rump thump thump of the ninety minute wash-spin cycle. He welcomed the honey blonde utilising his pectoral pillows, he reached across the bed to grasp her hand, but Sephiroth liked a bit of space when he slept… until and unless such times when he tucked her so close that he masqueraded as her external rib cage. And maybe this was just her imagination, but Elena had the impression that Sephiroth slept a little more soundly when he velcroed himself against her back. As such, Elena never once squirmed away from Sephiroth, for she did not want to risk waking him up. Her body pains dissipated in a couple of days anyway, and she rather that he caught up on rest when he could. 

The honey blonde exhaled as quietly, her eyes darting from one shadow on the wall to another as she squashed the pining for a swig of chilled water and the itching to stretch out like a starfish. Listening to her silver companion's steady breathing, Elena distracted herself by wondering whether there was sufficient time for her to complete a full deep sleep cycle. Given how dark it was at that moment, the blonde Turk figured that civil sunrise had not begun and so there should be enough time, if she  would only hurry up and drop off. Elena mused that if she took a cab to the office, there would be sufficient buffer to avoid being a walking cranky achy mess all day. Heck, if she asked Sephiroth to send her to work, she would have time for a quick morning soak in the bathtub even given the demonic speeds the general could achieve on two wheels. The thought of a warm bath, relieving some of the body pain, made the petite blonde almost purr with anticipation. Notwithstanding the discontent of being held so stiflingly close by the silver soldier, the honey blonde eventually drifted back to sleep whilst feeling a little bit cherished. 

Chapter Text

Elena flopped face first onto her bed while still fully dressed, not even bothering to remove her socks. It had been a very long day at work, and it was not even the good kind of busy. Nothing but shuffling from one mindless meeting to another, squinting at poorly prepared paperwork, sitting in the back row while less qualified officers in less fitting suits made less intelligent decisions at the adults table. The blonde Turk sighed gloomily as she pulled a pillow over her head. 

“Shall I run a bath for you?” A topless Sephiroth, who had left his pauldrons and coat draped over the sofa in her living room, asked as he tugged her socks off. 

“Mppfhh,” the petite Turk wriggled her toes in response. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” the silver soldier chuckled as he quickly and efficiently divested the honey blonde of her suit. His patented mako greens widened with interest at the undergarment that Elena was wearing; silky, classy, overlaid with intricate design of delicate lace, in the colour of champagne gold. He flipped the Turk onto her back so that he could properly admire the high-end matching  brassiere-and-panties set.  Elena set aside the pillow and grinned at the way her silver companion was looking at her — like a cat looking at a dish of cream. She had worn the lingerie chiefly for her own benefit, a touch of personal style and flair under the standard Turk suit. Plus, well-fitted undergarments made out of luxurious fabric were simply nice to wear next to one’s skin. But she saw no reason to complain about Sephiroth also appreciating her indulgent choice of lingerie. 

“Very nice,” he cooed approvingly as he traced the lace pattern with his fingers. “Turk issued?” 

Elena snorted with genuine amusement for the first time that day, as she conjured up mental images of her colleagues wearing similar fancy underclothing beneath their sharp suits. Reno would insist on wearing a thong, then spend the rest of the day tugging it from between his ass cheeks. Rude would look amazing in a one piece teddy, befitting his gentle giant status. As for Tseng… the Leader of the Turks would perhaps don something so slutty that even the Wall Market veterans would blush to see it.  “Yes,” she drawled as she arched her back and twisted her hips slightly, putting her assets on full display. “Combat lingerie.” 

“Prepare for invasion,” Sephiroth said as he sat upright, resting his weight on his knees that were bracketing Elena’s slender body. The silver soldier was pulling off his belts when the honey blonde slid a foot across his thigh, then pressed her toes to his tent in the front of his pants. “Careful now… I got home turf advantage,” the petite Turk warned sultrily. The silver soldier grunted as he dropped his belts off the side of the bed, where the leather coiled upon itself like a snake. Parting the petite blonde’s shapely thighs, he countered by sliding a knee between her legs. “Happy to rise to the challenge,” Sephiroth purred in response, baring his canines in a grin. “Besides, have you forgotten who I am? I have experience bringing the battle deep into enemy lands… and winning.”  Elena rolled her eyes even as a gasp slipped forth from her lips when his knee made contact. When she wriggled impatiently as his fingers explored her curves, he clicked his tongue. “At ease, Turk. One must be tactical when it comes to insertion of troops…” 

Frowning, the blonde Turk tugged sharply at her silver’s companion tresses so as to draw his face close to hers. “I’m not here for your command and conquest, general,” the honey blonde pouted. “If you think I’m the western continent, trembling at the mere thought of the big bad soldier wielding his weapon of mass destruction… well at the present moment I’m more like the Midgar wastelands: drying up.” Sephiroth’s eyebrows scrunched towards each other as he guided a brassiere strap down her shoulder with his teeth. Ruefully retiring his planting-of-the-white-flag pun for another time, the silver soldier instead deployed his mediagenic smile as he brushed his knuckle against Elena’s cheek. “Pardons, my petite pumpkin pie, you are indeed no prize to be procured. My plan is to pamper you, so prithee permit me to provide you with pleasure.”  The petite blonde scrunched her nose at her silver companion’s switch of wordplay style, but she did wrap her legs around his waist invitingly as she spread her fingers across his abdominal muscles like butter over hot toast. The silver hummed his appreciation of her touch.

“Honey, your bone structure—” Sephiroth breathed as he tenderly brushed his fingers across her chin. “—gives my bone structure.” 

Elena bit her bottom lip. 

It was a perfect pun, delivered with a dash of his dazzling charm. Sephiroth retained his own brand of humour while furnishing flattery, a combination of his first class magnetism and his earnest efforts to show the petite blonde a good time after the bad day that she had. But good gaia, that pun was just— too—  A giggle broke through, and soon Elena was in a full-on fit of hilarity. She twisted away from the silver soldier as she flopped onto her side, curling up into herself as she let out one belly-aching chortle after another. Sephiroth looked nonplussed as the honey blonde trashed around on the bed in glee, unable to get a single word out between gulps of laughter.   “Okay, I know that was funny, but surely it was not that funny,” the silver mumbled as he squinted at the Turk. Elena laughed so hard that she slid right off the bed, and Sephiroth merely made a half-hearted attempt at catching her. When she continued to chuckle even while on the floor, the soldier flopped face first onto her bed and morosely pulled a pillow over his head. 

Elena eventually made her way back on the bed, ripping the pillow away as she swept down to plant a kiss on her silver companion’s cheek. She wriggled her way back into his embrace, tucking her head beneath his chin as she nuzzled against his chest. “I hope that was good for you, as it was good for me,” she cooed, and Sephiroth responded with a pinch to her derrière. “Okay, okay, peace offering. I’ll prepare that bath where you can try your naval puns, how about that?” There was a brief silence as the silver soldier contemplated her proposal, his palm rubbing slow circles in the small of her back as Elena made contented noises.

“…Permission to come aboard?” Sephiroth whispered with his lips pressed to her forehead, and Elena could practically feel his smug smile. 

“Mppfhh,”  the petite Turk complained as she smooshed her face against his pectoral pillows.

Chapter Text

Elena sat crossed-leg as she chewed thoughtfully on the end of a highlighter. There were reports spread over her lap, several evidence bags balanced precariously on her left knee, and a variety of other documents covering just about every inch of her bed. At first glance, one might mistake the blonde Turk for a conspiracy theorist on the verge of a breakthrough and/or breakdown. Practically every page had a dash of colours defacing it, a combination of frantic highlights and deep-grooved pen notches. Dozens of tiny multi-coloured index tags licked the edges of the reports, while sticky notes overcrowded with words were themselves overcrowding the surface of the evidence bags. On closer look, however, one could see the coordination connecting the chaos. The synchronised colours denoted the links Elena had drawn between the disparate data, the index tags kept track of the chronological order of the case, while her handwriting on were neat and tidy despite the teensy weensy size of the sticky notes. It may look like a crime scene, but it was humming along as finely coordinated as any war room that her silver companion would run. 

Speaking of the petite blonde’s silver companion… Sephiroth, who had been raiding Elena’s fridge in the kitchen, was now slithering into her bedroom. The soldier was silent, and the Turk side-tracked, so Sephiroth was able to rest his chin on the edge of the bed without her noticing. Blinking slowly, he waited to be acknowledged but with each passing minute, his eyebrows listed towards one another while his lower lip pushed outwards like a landslide. By the time Elena glanced in his direction, the silver soldier was in a full sulking mode. “Oh, hi babe,” the honey blonde chirped, her eyes barely leaving the report she was pursuing. “Whatcha doing?” 

“Testing a theory,” the glowering soldier muttered. “When the cat does this, resting his chin on your bed, you stop doing everything —and that includes me, might I add— to pay attention to him and invite him to join you for cuddles. My theory is that if I did the same, I could capture your concentration too. Alas, it seems like my theory proved to be false.”  Tittering, the petite Turk reached out and ran her fingers through the silver soldier’s hair. “For starters you are, what, seven times bigger than the cat? He can sit on my lap, but if you get onto the bed now all my papers are going to be crushed. And more importantly—” Elena finally set down the report in her hand as she turned to scrunch her nose at her silver companion. “––first principles, Sephiroth. You have forgotten that the bed, the apartment, all of it belongs to Mackerel.” 

Sephiroth snorted, but he did tilt his head backwards to present his jawline for the honey blonde’s scritching, and she happily indulged him. Unfortunately, the silver soldier had Elena’s full attention for barely a minute before a loud thump was heard from the living room. “Speak of the devil…” Elena shook her head at the noises of something metallic being dragged across the floor. Mackerel has decided to drop by for a visit this evening, squeezing himself in through the balcony which was usually left slightly ajar expressly for the feline. And it would seem that the cat has pounced on the silver soldier’s pauldrons that he habitually left by the living room sofa. 

Mackerel was born in Wall Market and despite having adopted Elena for many years, he preferred to spend the majority of his time roaming around the neighbourhood. That was to say, the feline was an outdoor cat who had little interest in store-bought toys. But for unknown reasons, Mackerel has taken great interest in treating Sephiroth’s pauldrons as his scratching plaything. To the silver soldier’s chagrin, the cat paid no attention to the old set of pauldrons Sephiroth had begrudgingly given up for the feline’s use. Mackerel preferred new pauldrons that were shiny and unscathed by battle. 

“Damn it,” Sephiroth sighed as he stood up, brushing down his pants as he squinted in the direction of the living room. 

“Awww, let Mack be. Stay, I will just take a bit more time to finish up, and I can pet you while you wait,” Elena said temptingly. 

“No, no, you have work, go ahead and do it. I have work to do, too; protecting company property,” the general cracked his knuckles. 

Elena clicked her tongue, reminding her silver companion that she had told him repeatedly to store his pauldrons in her closet instead of leaving them strewn carelessly on the floor. “This is a completely preventable issue,” the honey blonde protested. Sephiroth spoke over her, as if he never heard a word Elena said. “No, no, as you said, the bed, the apartment, everything belongs to the cat, so that includes the damnable pauldrons. In that case, it is a matter of entering enemy territory to stake claim on the armour. Excellent. I have plenty of experience in that area, too.” The petite blonde sighed as she turned her attention back to the casework that was still strewn across her bed. It was getting late, and she wanted to finish up so that she could clear up and go to sleep. Elena zeroed her attention back onto her work, easily tuning out the scuffle and struggle taking place in the next room. 

Elena was locking up her attaché case when Sephiroth slinked back into the bedroom, angry red scratches adorning his cheek, chin, and chest. It was clear, however, the biggest injury was to the general’s dignity for his hands were empty. His pauldrons were now Mackerel’s property, and Sephiroth was left to wonder how he was going to requisition a fresh pair when he just got the conquered set earlier that week. The honey blonde made sympathetic noises as she pulled back the covers, hiding her smile. Mackerel naturally stood no chance against the war hero, but the feline had adamantine armour in the form of the honey blonde’s affection. It was never a fair fight to begin with, and Mackerel took shameless advantage of it. The petite blonde patted the mattress invitingly, and her silver companion plonked himself rather unceremoniously next to her. It was superfluous to dab ointment onto his wounds, considering Sephiroth’s enhanced cells would restore his skin to its pristine alabaster state by dawn, but Elena did so anyway. She knew he enjoyed being made a fuss over, since he received precious little attention and affection during the course of his life. Patiently, Elena planted little pecks around every single scabbing scratch as Sephiroth purred in response. 

Chapter Text

Elena typically did her makeup in front of her bathroom vanity which had decent lighting, a big mirror, as well as having all of her tools and makeup within easy reach. This morning, however, there was a chill in the air and her shower heater had refused to produce anything more than barely lukewarm water. Shivering, the petite blonde grabbed her travel makeup bag before slipping into her bedroom where her personal heater a.k.a. Sephiroth was dozing underneath the blankets. He had stirred at the scent of the freshly laundered blonde, and welcomed her into his embrace with a lazy smile that made Elena weigh the pros and cons of being an hour late for work. But she vaguely recalled that the general had a meeting that morning, and so the blonde Turk dragged him to a sitting position instead. She commandeered his lap for her use, pressing her back to his warm chest to enjoy his warmth. Sephiroth’s thighs served as temporary counter space, while he held up a mirror for her. With the silver nuzzling the curve of his neck,  Elena could see a single patented mako green eye gazing intensely at her in the mirror. Her silver companion has a habit of peering at her whenever she got ready, but this was the first time he had a front row seat as the honey blonde went through her makeup routine. 

When Elena picked up her eyelash curler, Sephiroth grinned as his fingers danced across her knee. “Have I ever told you how I admire you getting dual use out of your work tools, honey? Using your fillet knives to pare away fingernails, your picnic mat is a groundsheet that can be used to wrap a body when the need arises. And now this… whatever this teeny handheld torture device is. Do you use it to clamp people’s eyelids open or something?” The incredulous honey blonde brandished the cosmetic device in the air. “Say what now? This is just an eyelash curler, babe.” 

“You can’t just pull out an instrument of torture and make up uses for them, you know. How on gaia is that supposed to curl eyelashes? It looks more like you use it to rip eyelashes off your victims, so that they may recall the harrowing experience in your torture chair every time they look at themselves in the mirror. How very dastardly of you.” Elena sighed loudly as she flipped herself over to straddle her silver companion, her thighs bracketing his hips. “You’re a moron, Sephiroth.” Her makeup bag slid off his lap and a lip of lipgloss tumbled to the floor, but the petite blonde held the eyelash curler firm in her grasp as she leaned closer to peer at Sephiroth’s long and luscious lashes. “Given the state of your lashes, you ought to be familiar with the eyelash curler. Didn’t you once complain that your thick lashes obscure your vision? Curling them can help.”

“My field of vision is just fine ,” Sephiroth said as he lowered his gaze pointedly to the honey blonde’s alluring cleavage peeking over her lace-edged bra. A giggle escaped from Elena’s lips before she pulled them downward in a pout, grasping her silver companion’s chin with her left hand. “My eyes are up here,” she scolded in a sing-song voice as she tilted the soldier’s face up towards her own. “Now stay still while I demonstrate.” Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed into slits as the blonde Turk opened and closed the curler like a pair of scissors, the silicon pads making an ominous smacking sound of welcome. When the soldier attempted to wriggle free, Elena gleefully chided him with a gloating grin. “Oh, what’s this now? The great general scared of this itty bitty torture device?” 

Sephiroth glared up at the honey blonde and as he slid his hands along her thighs, he commanded her to “do your worst, darling”. Despite his initial bravado, however, Elena was certain she heard a strangled mewl of protest at the back of his throat when she first clamped down on the upper eyelashes of his left eye. The silver soldier froze in place, not daring to even blink as the petite Turk gently squeezed the tool for seven seconds. Elena angled the curler for a second clamp before wriggling her way to the very tip of his eyelashes, cramping down softly with the same pulsating pressure to complete the curl. She lifted the tool away from her silver companion’s eye, then cooed at the graceful curl she had made. 

The silver was ready to see the challenge through to the end; the general of SOLDIER certainly had no fear of a petite eyelash torturer in the hands of a petite Turk. But when Elena said something about using heat so that his lashes would stay curled for longer, the silver soldier imagined the blonde returning with some sort of mini iron designed to seal a spy’s eyelids shut for the crime of seeing things not meant for their eyes. Sephiroth all but leapt out of bed with the honey blonde in his arms, before plonking her right back onto the bed. Ignoring her huff of protest at the sudden rough handling, the silver soldier retreated rapidly while muttering under his breath: oh, look at the time, I better go, I got a meeting with your boss and your boss’s boss, can’t be late, talk to you later you certifiable cr— I mean, you cutie pie, I can’t wait to see you again tonight but farewell for now bye gotta go. 

Epilogue, Part I

Elena’s memory was accurate, and Sephiroth was telling the truth: he did have a meeting that morning with none other than the Leader of the Turks and their director-in-common, Heidegger. As usual, Director Heidegger was too preoccupied with his own voice and opinions to notice that anything was out of place, but the same could not be said for the ever observant and sharp-eyed Tseng. The Leader of the Turks, seated directly opposite the General of SOLDIER, was looking at Sephiroth like a very perturbed Grangalan: eyes wide, lips pressed together in a thin terse line, looking like his jaw was about to drop at any moment. Tseng could not make head nor tail with what he was seeing. On his right side, the silver soldier was his typical breathtaking self, his lengthy and luxurious lashes casting their own shadow on his pale cheeks. And on the other side… well, Tseng could have sworn that Sephiroth had done something to his left eye’s upper eyelashes, which looked very much like a row of graceful ballerinas holding the arabesque position. It was only during the last seven minutes of the meeting that Sephiroth finally realised why Tseng was staring at him so intensely. Shit. And so for the second time that morning, Sephiroth had to beat a hasty retreat from a Turk while looking absolutely ridiculous with his one-sided-curled-lashes. 

Epilogue, Part II

Tseng returned to the Turk’s basement office, a frown still cut between his eyes at the extraordinary sight he had witnessed earlier that morning. He asked out loud if anyone had seen the general of SOLDIER that day, to which everyone but Elena replied in the negative. The petite Turk buried her nose into a folder to hide her eat-shitting grin as she glanced at her nearby PHS, which had been lighting up like a Christmas tree with incoming messages for the past twenty minutes. Her silver companion had been flooding her PHS with laments and complaints about the situation with her boss, till she had to set her device into no-sound-no-vibrate mode. The silver soldier was alternating between demanding for instructions to reverse-curl his eyelashes, and threatening that he would stay in his office until his eyelashes reverted back to their original state and that if anything were to happen during his enforced exile, he would blame Elena of the Turks for his inability to respond. When Tseng walked by her desk wondering whether she had seen the First Class SOLDIER today, Elena answered honestly that she had not. And that was the truth, somewhat: the honey blonde had spent the night and some of the morning not with the general, but her silver companion doofus who had no idea how makeup tools worked, and somehow managed to walk into a meeting with only one side of his eyelashes curled. Elena was about to put Sephiroth out of his misery by telling him that some water would probably do the trick, but decided to hold that information hostage and instead demanded her silver companion send a photograph of his mismatched lashes. 

Chapter Text

The silver soldier had been away from Midgar for three weeks. If anyone had cared to examine the security tapes during this period, they would have been perplexed by a lone figure slipping in and out of the general’s office at irregular intervals. Wearing an oversized company parka —released as part of Midgar’s 30th anniversary celebration, the jacket was handed out to every Shinra employee and was sold in the memorial museum gift shop; in short, it was an article of clothing that was virtually untraceable— with a full duffel bag in each hand, the hooded individual slipped into Sephiroth’s office at all times of the day and night, and emerged empty-handed after an undetermined amount of time. An infinite mystery… for a limited time anyway, for the security records were soon wiped clean. 

When Sephiroth dragged himself back to the city of mako twenty seven days later, he was in a morose mood. He was suffocated by the stench of mako in the air, and the crowds choking the streets and buildings. The general withdrew into the sanctuary of his office, but there was no opportunity to lose himself in the usual monotony of work since he was given given the rest of the week off to rest and recuperate. Sephiroth hunched himself over his computer anyway, but the glare of the screen soon burnt the back of his eyes. He decided to hit the showers instead, and rid himself of the dust from the road. 

Slipping into the sleeping quarters of his office, however, Sephiroth froze in flabbergastion. A pillow fortress had taken over pretty much the entire floor space, with ‘walls’ stacked as high as the soldier’s chest level. Groundsheets were swathed across the ‘turrets’ to form a roof, with a gigantic one draped across the ‘entrance’ to function as a door of sorts. The general’s sparse furniture was missing, presumably colonised by this pillow stronghold. Sephiroth was rubbing his eyes, wondering if he was sleepwalking and this monstrosity was part of a dream, when the flaps of the door were pushed aside to reveal a set of warm honey brown eyes peering up at him. “You’re home!” Elena of the Turks chirped brightly at her silver companion. “Welcome back.”

The soldier raised an eyebrow. They were, after all, in (former) Director Lazard’s old office, butchered to make space for a sleeping section that Sephiroth had been squatting in for the better part of several years now. And they were in a building where the silver had spent way too much time accumulating way too many bad memories. Hardly a viable candidate for ‘home’. Regardless, the urge to correct the blonde ebbed away as Sephiroth’s gaze focused on her warm smile and the camisole strap that had slid down her shoulder invitingly. Like a petite ray of sunlight peeking from behind his dark and sombre clouds, Elena brought a touch of warmth back into his aching bones. Sephiroth sank to his knees as he cupped her heart-shaped face, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” the silver mumbled hoarsely. 

Elena divested her silver companion of his pauldrons as he tugged off his gloves and coat and boots, before guiding Sephiroth into the pillow fortress on his knees. There were fairy lights strung across the top to provide ambient light. A mini fridge was wedged into a corner with a basket of sweet and savoury snacks balanced on top of it. The majority of the fortress interior was taken up by his mattress that had been taken off its frame and plonked onto the ground, augmented by cushions and throws. “Bloody hell, how many pillows are there and how did you sneak them in here?” Sephiroth grunted as he wrapped the petite Turk into his arms, before falling onto the makeshift bed. The honey blonde tittered as she landed on top of him, planting kisses all over his face as she ran her thumb gently across the wound on his lower lip. “Too many, and I’ll have you know I did it very professionally. No one saw nor suspected a thing. I should bring this up to my superior’s attention, actually. It’s shameful that the office of our finest SOLDIER is so poorly guarded. Someone could have planted a C4 in here and have it blow up in your face.” 

The petite blonde nuzzled herself against her silver companion, unbothered that he was still grimy from his travels. She chatted about how an assignment had gone sideways after Reno accidentally let a body slide out of the helicopter, made an offhand remark about a new type of coffee in the company cafeteria that she thought he would like, before updating him about her pet cat’s latest adventures. It took a while before Elena realised that something was off: her silver companion’s hands were wrapped around her waist, holding the honey blonde close, and… nothing more. It was not that she expected Sephiroth to be all over her the moment they had a private moment together, but it had been some weeks since they last met. Elena would have expected —and welcomed— those large hands of his roaming her back or bottom. As she wrapped up her recounting of Mackerel hiding one of her pillows, the petite blonde observed the tension behind Sephiroth’s vacant gaze, and the tightness in his jaw. Brushing the stray silver strands out of his handsome face, Elena gave him a long warm kiss before bustling about to make him comfortable. 

Elena retrieved a bottle of sweet tea from the mini fridge, and funnelled the beverage to her prone silver companion through a straw. In-between sips, the blonde Turk dropped pralines directly into his mouth along with chaste pecks on his cheek. They lapsed into companionable silence as Sephiroth continued to gaze blankly at the lights above him, chewing and drinking mechanically. With a soft click of her tongue, Elena slipped to the bathroom to douse a towel in warm water, which she used to pat Sephiroth’s face clean. Setting aside the tibits and towel, the honey blonde slipped back down to bed and gathered her silver companion into her in a sweetheart cradle, resting his cheek against her bosom. “Now,” Elena said as she weaved her fingers through his hair. “Tell me, what’s up with you, Sephiroth .” A hard emphasis on his name, to lure her silver companion out from beneath the veneer of general.  Elena knew that even on the most prolonged of missions, the silver never let his professional persona slip for a single second. This meant he kept himself isolated from company, both literally and figuratively, bottling everything up within himself until he was packed to gills. 

Sephiroth remained silent for another long moment before he pressed himself closer to the petite blonde. “I went to clear the site of one of the space rockets on the North-West continent,” he began quietly. “When I was at the nearby coast for some sea air, I realised I could see… it was close enough to see the western continent over the horizon.” Elena winced internally as she started to knead his nape. Everyone knew how Sephiroth returned from Wutai a war hero, but few knew how the general had professed that he would never return to Wutai ever again. The company tried to persuade him to do so, but the silver was adamant that he would not insult the widows and orphans of the war with his presence. When Shinra attempted to pressure him to return as part of a PR move, the soldier went as far as boarding the vessel destined for the Western continent before setting fire to it while it was still docked. No one has brought up the topic ever since. 

“In hindsight, the Western continent functioned as the closest thing to the home I never had. It was the first place where I had a measure of freedom, experienced what it meant to have choice, and was with people with whom I shared a common goal. Did you know…? There was a point when I thought the place was the Promised Land that Shinra had been seeking. A green and verdant place… and boundless mako energy, since its people had created a sustainable system that had endured the test of time…” Sephiroth buried his face into Elena’s chest as he barked with laughter. “Of course, it was not anymore a promised land to the company than it was a ‘home’ to me.” 

The silver soldier lapsed back into silence, and Elena had no words for him. She knew there was no need to point out that in the S.E.C.’s ruthless determination for world domination, their first victims were the child soldiers they sent to the frontlines to confront horrors that fully grown men were not equipped to deal with, much less a motherless boy with had only just begun to grow tall enough for his silver mane. Plus, Sephiroth had been grappling with this guilt for even longer than Elena had been an adult, there was nothing she could have said that he had not already thought of. But the honey blonde was well-aware that she did not have to say anything. What her silver companion needed was solace in a non-judgmental space, and that she was able to amply provide. Elena even added head scritches and kisses to his forehead, as the silver soldier drifted off into an uneasy sleep. 

Chapter Text

Elena was in bed when her doorbell rang, repeatedly and relentlessly. She huffed as she turned onto her side, frowning into the darkness. The door opened anyway (the honey blonde had given her silver companion a key to stop him from breaking in just to drop off something in the entrance hall), and heavy footsteps tracked across the living room. Sephiroth was so preoccupied, he did not even remember to remove his boots until he was outside her bedroom door. With a grunt, he shucked off his footwear and tossed them carelessly aside. His pauldrons joined his boots with a loud thud, another clear sign of his irritation. The door knob of her bedroom juggled, and the silver soldier swore under his breath when he realised that it was locked. Elena never did have the habit of locking her bedroom; she lived alone, closing the door was sufficient to keep out her cat, and she had no reason to keep out her silver companion. Until tonight, at least. 

“What the hell, Elena.” The general’s voice was terse, and the door shuddered on its hinges when he slammed his palm on it. He had waited for three hours at the restaurant they were supposed to meet for dinner, getting increasingly perturbed that something untoward had happened to the honey blonde. Finding her warm and safe in bed had turned his alarm into aggravation. “How about you crawl out from underneath your blanket and talk to me face to face,” he muttered as he shrugged out of his coat, letting it pool into a mess onto the floor. Behind the closed door, the petite Turk petulantly pulled a pillow over her head as she stewed with anger at the silver’s taunt. 

A SOLDIER with less restraint would have kicked down the door, while a more seasoned Turk would have picked the lock. Sephiroth was neither, but he was nothing if not elegant. He reached behind the knob to yank off the door rose, before ripping out the entire lock, bolt and cylinder and all. No point in damaging a perfectly functional door, and no need to cause disturbance to the neighbours. The silver soldier even closed the door behind him, though it remained slightly ajar given the lack of a locking mechanism. Elena could not see him, but she could sense he was glowing down at her with hands on his hips. 

“Are you going to tell me what got your panties into a bunch, or am I going to have to rip them off you?” Sephiroth demanded, as always being horrendous at code-switching between the bedroom and the battle boardroom. For a brief moment she wondered how his ability at pushing her buttons measured up to his skills at stroking the button between her legs, but Elena chased the treacherous thoughts out of her head in exasperation. Not even the sight of his perfect rack of abs could soothe the honey blonde’s wrath as she launched the pillow she was holding straight into his face. That he batted it away without blinking just made her all the more madder. 

“Can’t you take a hint, general?” A surly Elena demanded as she sat up in bed. “I didn’t turn up to dinner because I didn’t want to see you. I didn’t answer when you rang the bell because I didn’t want to see you. I locked my bedroom door because I —guess what!— still didn’t want to see you.” 

“You made that clear enough, and I am asking why .” The silver soldier threw up his hands, vexed.  “I didn’t want to distract you from any of your oh-so-very important businesses, Sir ,” the blonde Turk replied snarkily before she flopped back onto the mattress, twisting to her side so as to turn her back on Sephiroth. 

The edge of the bed sagged as the silver soldier sat down, and she scooted away from him. “What the heck does that even mea— wait, are you referring to what I talked about with Reno and Tseng this afternoon?” When Elena did not answer, he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. She slapped his hand away as she sat back up, turning around to squint at her silver companion. “Oh, so you do remember what you did, huh? Or have you forgotten how you told my colleagues that you found me little more than a distracting pretty face? And that you preferred I don’t join you for that mission to Corel, because you find Reno to be so much more capable than I am?”

“I don’t know what either of them told you, but I didn’t say half of that,” Sephiroth protested. “Reno was the one who expressed doubts about whether you could handle the Corel mission, and I—“ 

“And you didn’t disagree!” Elena interrupted, quick as a whip. “It’s one thing for the other Turks to look at me in askance, to doubt me, to make me do twice as much to prove myself to them. But I expected better from you of all people.” 

“Don’t you think that runs the risk of your colleagues finding out about this?” Sephiroth countered, gesturing between the two of them with a frown ceasing his features. 

“I don’t need you fighting my battles, thank you very much, I can do that myself! But I also don’t need you to add on to the shit I have to face. Telling my boss that my pretty face is a liability , that is just so unnecessary.” The blonde Turk raised her volume, if only to cover up the slight tremble in her voice. 

“I thought I was—” The silver soldier reached out once again for the honey blonde’s hand, but she pulled away with a frustrated hiss. “Think harder next time,” Elena cut in snarkily. “Better yet, keep quiet. Don’t say anything. Leave it alone. And leave me alone.” 

Even though the petite blonde was mad enough to spit, she wanted to take back her words the moment they left her lips. But it was too late, Sephiroth’s expression turned frosty as he got to his feet and without a word, he withdrew from her bedroom. Elena buried her face into her pillow and yelled into it. In her annoyance, she had forgotten how sensitive her silver companion was to being pushed away during a dispute, ever since a certain red-haired soldier had shut Sephiroth out post-conflict. And the general had clearly forgotten how she did not take kindly to being left behind. 

After making herself count slowly to a hundred, the honey blonde tossed the pillow aside and got out of bed. She pulled on a pair of sweatpants, wondering where she would head first in search of a silver soldier. As it turned out, Elena did not have to wander very far, for Sephiroth was lying face down in the middle of her living room. Standing very still, she gazed down at the prone general for a long moment. Perhaps he did not forget, after all. 

Sephiroth grunted when Elena nudged his arm with her foot. Gruffly, the honey blonde remarked that the floor was cold and uncomfortable, so the silver soldier might as well come to bed. “I don’t want to be held responsible for the general flailing about during the Corel mission,” the petite Turk groused as she stepped over his discarded pauldrons and shuffled back towards her bedroom, without waiting to see if Sephiroth was going to take her up on her offer. Shucking off her sweatpants at the foto of her bed, Elena slid under the blankets, pulled them up to her chin, and closed her eyes. The petite blonde let out a small sigh when she sensed Sephiroth’s weight settling in bedside her, but did not acknowledge him. They laid side-by-side in silence, not touching, each preoccupied with their own thoughts. 

Just before Elena crossed the boundary into unconsciousness, she felt the slightest pressure on her last digit, and the warmth from her silver companion’s little finger radiated onto her skin. This time, the honey blonde did not break off contact. In the space between slumber and stirring, Elena recalled that they were not supposed to go to bed angry. Nothing had been resolved, but perhaps it was enough for now that he did not leave, and she did not pull away. 

Chapter Text

It was seven in the morning when Elena stirred, stretching out languidly as she stifled a yawn. Opening an eye, the honey blonde smiled sleepily when she saw that her silver companion was still in her bed. The petite Turk was not on duty that day but the general was, and she had expected him to slip away at the crack of dawn. Taking full advantage of the situation, a delighted Elena shuffled closer to steal Sephiroth’s heat, burrowing into his embrace while slinging a thigh across his belly. She sighed appreciatively as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing soft kisses to her forehead. With her cheek resting on his pectoral pillow, the petite blonde was ready to drift off back to sleep when she felt the silver soldier’s lips graze along the scar near her hairline. Elena felt him pause, run his lips over the slight bump one more time, before pulling back so that he could take a better look at the scar. 

Sephiroth squinted; he could tell the scar was an old one, at least ten years old, maybe even fifteen or more. It was not the result of a particularly serious wound. While it was clearly visible, it was one of those scars whereby you had to know it was already there in order to spot it. And since the scar was situated so close to the petite blonde’s hairline, it meant that most of the time it was hidden by her fringe. Without a word, Elena reached up and pulled her hair back down to obscure the scar from his sight. Clicking his tongue, the silver soldier brushed her fringe out of the way so that he could look at the scar once more. “What happened?” Sephiroth asked curiously, wondering how  he had missed seeing it all this time.

“Mmm… nothing, just something from when I was younger,” Elena mumbled as she again tugged at her hair to shield the scar from Sephiroth’s gaze. She was very young when she got the scar, and she did not have the best memories attached to it. The blonde Turk typically dabbed extra makeup along the scar, which further ensured that it stayed out of sight almost all of the time. Elena knew that her silver companion was curious, so she deliberately steered the conversation in another direction. “You seem fascinated, what’s up with that? You have seen the scars on my legs before without much comment.” 

“I know how you got the scars on your legs, but now how you got the one here, on your forehead,” Sephiroth explained as he finally got the hint and moved his hand away from her hair. Instead, he started kneading the back of her neck, making the honey blonde purr in approval. “Someone once said to me — scars tell you a lot about a person, all sorts about the things they have gone through, and who they are. Scars help to tell your story.” 

“Profound, but rather a strange thing to share with you, considering you don’t have any scars of your own,” Elena mumbled as she rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Or did you have scars when you were younger, just that they disappeared when you grew up? I imagined your healing ability, like your other skills, got better as you grew older.” Sephiroth rested his chin on the top of the honey blonde’s head as he pondered about what she had said. “Hmmm… you are right in that my healing abilities did see marked improvement when I grew older. But ever since I could remember, which means from around the time I was three years of age, I recovered from all wounds without so much as a discolouration on my skin, much less a scar.”

“If scars help tell your story… and you don’t have any scars… what kind of story do you have?” Elena teased as she stifled another yawn; his fingers on the back of her neck were exerting just the right amount of pressure, and the petite blonde’s eyes fluttered close in contentment. “A story that isn’t worth telling,” Sephiroth said, his tone so casual that it took the honey blonde a moment before her eyes popped open like a microwave, and she lifted her head to gape at him. Elena admonished him sternly for such a grim thought, to which the silver soldier shrugged. “Well, you know it’s true. I don’t have scars, but the scars on other people’s bodies and lives that I am responsible for… none of them make any good stories.” 

Now wide awake, the petite blonde straddled her silver companion with a frown cutting between her honeyed eyes. Leaning down, Elena smooshed the soldier’s cheeks between her palms. “You’re part of my story now, are you saying my story sucks?” Sephiroth thought about making a bawdy comment involving sucking, but (wisely) opted to give that a miss as he rubbed a thumb against the cease in the middle of her forehead. Instead, he flashed a winsome smile as he made assurances about how Elena of the Turks had one hell of a story, no doubt about it. Seeing that she was about to pursue the conversation further, the silver soldier leaned up to press his lips against hers. As she wound her arms around his neck, Sephiroth pressed the petite blonde back onto the bed. 

“Now that I think about it, remember you once left a scar in my lung?” It was now the general’s turn to twist the topic elsewhere, away from the uncomfortable conversation about how he grappled with his lack of scars. “It’s probably gone now, but that scar certainly was quite a story, mmm?” Elena narrowed her eyes; Sephiroth did have scars, just not any that left marks on body tissue, and those said a lot more about what he had gone through than the various scars her skin had collected. However, since she got away with not saying anything about the scar on her forehead, the honey blonde decided she could cut her silver companion the same slack. Threading her fingers into his hair as she smiled slyly up at him, she mumbled about how it was also quite a story, that a certain hot petite Turk was capable of making the general late for work. Sephiroth snorted as he tucked Elena back under the covers. “Have a good rest,” he whispered as he swept back her fringe to kiss at the scar on her forehead one more time. 

Chapter Text

I can’t believe it’s the fifth day, and I have yet to fully deconstruct Reno’s pipe bomb. I have a —squeak— feeling that when he said I had missed his ‘super secret ingredient’, it’s just his way of getting me to —squeak— continue doing his paperwork. And I fell —squeak squeak— for it like a schmuck. Oh shit, did I spell-check that report before I sent it off? —squeak— Wait, what was I thinking about, oh, right, Reno’s mysterious bomb recipe… maybe I should ask Rude for help. How can I bribe him? Rude likes —squeak— feeding birds, though he seems to want to —squeak— keep that particular hobby on the down-low. Maybe I could get him some bird feed that could pass off as trail mix? But what if Rude —squeak squeak — ends up eating it instead? I suppose it wouldn’t kill him to eat bird —squeak— food… who knows, maybe he already is nibbling on what he gives his feathered friends. That’s not very fair though, I don’t —squeak squeak— exactly snack on Mackerel’s dry —squeak— food. Also if I hear that squeaking sound one more time I am going to —squeak—  

With a groan, Elena flipped onto her side to squint at her silver companion. It was difficult enough trying to empty her crowded mind so that she can go to sleep, without being interrupted by a series of squeaks emerging from Sephiroth. Or more accurately, the cat toy that the silver soldier has in his hand. 

Earlier that evening, the petite blonde had been doing a bit of decluttering. She needed to make space for a second safe for her expanding collection of pistols and knives. Besides tossing out a box of her military academy notes, she had put aside a bag of cat toys for donation to a nearby animal shelter. When Mackerel first arrived at her apartment in the upper city, Elena had splurged on toys to keep him entertained. It turned out that the cat preferred to roam the streets, just as he has always done back in Wall Market, charming females of both the two- and four-legged kind in the neighbourhood. The toys eventually got packed up into storage and were now destined for donation. Her seven-percent silver companion had curiously rummaged through the bag, and became fascinated by a squeaky toy in the shape of a block of cheese. It was amusing to see the general of SOLDIER wrestle with the toy as they watched a movie over dinner, but not so much when he kept on at it in the wee small hours of the morning. 

“Babe, I’m happy you like the cheese, but I have to be up in four hours and the squeaking is driving me nuts,” Elena muttered as she reached over and plucked the offending toy out of his hand. Sephiroth gave it up without any resistance, and only responded with a clipped: “Apologies.” The blonde Turk tossed the block of cheese onto her side of the bedside table with a yawn, and snuggled back down under the covers.

Mmm… sweet still silence. As much as apartment living can afford, I suppose. The squeaking wasn’t really that big a deal, it was more of how it came at irregular intervals, sometimes once, sometimes twice. It’s kinda cute though, the general of SOLDIER having fun with a squeaky block of cheese. I wonder if Mack would fight Sephiroth for the cheese, even though he never had an interest in toys. Mack is a little shit like that at times. I should remember to say sorry to him tomorrow morning, too. Didn’t mean to snap, it’s not his fault that I am still awake at this hour, it is mostly because of that damned Reno and his— wait. Wait. What was that?

Elena opened her eyes, blinking rapidly in the darkness as she tried to gather her thoughts. It took a moment for her to recall that Sephiroth had said “apologies” earlier. It was not the first time the petite Turk had heard the silver soldier apologise. She had heard him deliver his apologies in  a scalding tone that made the receiver squirm, and also so subtly sarcastically that the receiver had no inkling of the general's insincerity (this happened a lot to their director-in-common Heidegger). And therein was the heart of the issue: the silver general apologised, while Sephiroth said “sorry” to her. 

The petite blonde flipped back onto her side to gaze at her silver companion, who was at the moment looking up at the ceiling. His blank expression was illuminated by the decrescent moonlight filtering through her sheer curtains, and she could make out that thousand-yard-stare which signalled that something was bothering Sephiroth. Shuffling closer, Elena gently placed a hand on his cheek. 

“Hey, something on your mind?” 
“Yes.”
“Tell me about it?”
“No.”

The blonde Turk swallowed, a little stung at his blunt refusal, but she reminded herself that this was less to do with her and more to do with him. Sephiroth was much more adept at avoiding his problems than acknowledging them, and even less adroit at articulating what was agitating him. 

“ Can you tell me about it?”
“No.”
“Can you tell someone else about it?”
“No.”

Elena paused to take stock of the situation. This yes/no line of questioning could go on for hours, and there was no guarantee that she could get to the bottom of things at the end of it all. Sephiroth was programmed differently from most thanks to his unorthodox upbringing under the ‘care’ of the company. Elena was not too sure how her interrogation abilities would measure up against his lifetime of answering to authorities while obscuring his own thoughts and feelings. 

“Why can’t you tell me about it?”
“……I don’t have the words for… what… this…” 

Sephiroth’s voice faltered as he laid the hand that was previously holding the squeaky toy on his chest. The honey blonde placed her hand over his bigger one, leaning close while offering to hold him for comfort. Elena bit her bottom lip when he shook his head, again reminding herself there was no need to take his refusal personally. After all, Sephiroth had issues that went far beyond what a cuddle session could cure. Taking a slow deep breath, Elena withdrew her hand and instead reached for the squeaky toy. “Well if you change your mind, either about conversing or cuddling or both, just let me know, okay? Even if I am asleep, just wake me up.” The petite blonde tucked the block of cheese back into his hand. “And you can go on squeezing this if you’d like.” Elena turned away from the silver soldier as she curled back onto her side. Whether this was to give him an illusion of privacy, or to prevent him from seeing the bewildered distress on her face… well, it was probably a bit of both. 

I wonder what is going on in that convoluted closed mind of his. I wonder what triggered him, he was fine all evening. Was it something I said? Or something I did? What did I miss? I suppose if no one ever bothered listening to him, it makes sense that he never bothered to learn to talk about himself. …Fuck, I should have known something was off when he was squeaking that toy in bed. He is usually so careful about not waking me up during his nighttime shenanigans… something that Mack should learn. Anyway yes that should have been a clue that something was off. But in my defence it’s almost two in the morning, and a —squeak— 

Elena let out a little sigh at the sound of the block of cheese toy being compressed within her silver companion’s hand. As the saying went, words were not the only way to tell someone how one felt. Sephiroth’s crawling into bed beside her and squeaking the toy, was probably him saying that he found her a safe enough refuge to drop the pretence that everything was just fine. 

That was a start, at least. 

Chapter Text

Elena was lying on her side in bed, her head propped up on a hand as she peered curiously at her silver companion. All evening, Sephiroth had been brooding with a frown cut between his eyes. He gave one-worded answers with his shoulders slumped, and his lips pressed together in a tense thin line. The silver soldier even passed on dessert, which made the honey blonde’s eyebrows practically disappear into her hairline. His morose mood showed no sign of abating when they settled down into bed, as Sephiroth glared at the ceiling in grumpy silence. If her silver companion had been any other person, his behaviour would have been worrying, a sign that he was agonising over something serious. But this was Sephiroth, who has had years of experience concealing his inner thoughts and feelings. The more truly perturbed he was, the more perfectly he presented the everything-is-fine persona. Which meant Elena was ready to bet her mid-year bonus that Sephiroth was, in fact, overthinking on a rather insignificant matter. He was probably also pissed with himself that he was mulling over something so unimportant at all. Running his fingers across his jawline, Elena gently prodded Sephiroth to share what had been occupying his mind. 

“Do you know what it means when someone calls you a goat?” A surly silver soldier mumbled. “Sure, so long as they are referring not to the animal but the acronym. GOAT; Greatest Of All Time.” Elena mentally patted herself on her back; she was right, her silver companion was fretting over something pretty trivial.  “How the hell did you find out that was what it meant? How long have you been in possession of this knowledge?” The silver soldier demanded as he turned to look at the honey blonde, his patented mako green eyes squinty from suffering. When Elena said that she had known about it since the beginning of the year, Sephiroth crossed his arms and scowled. “You’ve known about it for six months and you never shared it with me? How am I supposed to find out about such things if no one tells me about it? Was I supposed to just figure it out on my own that I wasn’t supposed to be being mildly insulted by the comparison to an animal known to destroy everything and chew on anything?”

“Babe, no one told me about it, it’s not like I went for a class or I got called into a briefing, you know. You just pick up such things when doom-scrolling between meetings and missions… wait, how long have you been trying to figure out what it means to be called a goat? And how long have you been pissed off since you found out what it means?” Elena glowered right back at her silver companion, even though she was vastly amused at the thought that the general expected to receive updates about the latest silly social media lingo. Maybe she could start doing that, it would be a fun way to pass the time during those pointless meetings or while waiting around for things to happen on missions…

“Six months. Six hours.” Sephiroth muttered. Elena tried not to laugh, going as far as biting her bottom lip to suppress the giggles bubbling away in the back of her throat. But the honey blonde could not quite hold back the ear-splitting grin as she imagined First Class SOLDIER Sephiroth being flustered about being called a goat for six months, then spent the last six hours stewing about how he had grossly misunderstood the situation. Sephiroth’s upside down smile deepened, and he yanked the blankets off the petite blonde in retaliation.  “Well, you kept it under wraps pretty well,” the petite Turk said reassuringly in her attempt at damage control, leaning over to peck Sephiroth on the cheek. “I haven’t had the slightest idea that you were, uhm, perturbed by being called a goat all this while. It’s good that you didn’t let them get your goat, at least outwardly. PR would have had a cow if you had protested about being called a goat in public.”

The silver soldier sat up in bed at the mention of the other farm animal,  the frown on his face melting away as his eyes lighted up. “Speaking of cows. I have not quite finished working out the details, but I was doing the math during an exceptionally boring meeting with Heidegger yesterday.” The silver soldier pointed out that the blonde Turk’s preference for  imported natural milk over the laboratory-concocted powder manufactured by Shinra took up a not-insignificant portion of her grocery bill. Elena tilted her head in confusion, wondering how the conversation had taken the abrupt turn to her calcium intake habits, as Sephiroth droned on about how even the cheapest imported milk was three times more expensive than the synthetic stuff that Shinra produced.

“When you work out the per unit cost of buying milk by the carton versus by the cattle, it is a financially sound decision for you to buy a cow, since you would not accept my assistance for your bills.” Sephiroth concluded with a wave of his hand and a thoughtful nod. Elena swayed slightly as she processed her silver companion’s suggestion. Trust Sephiroth to take six months to figure out what a popular slang meant, but sixty minutes to determine that purchasing a cow was a good idea. A cow… on the upper city… to supply a Turk with calcium. “Where the fuck would we keep a cow?!” Elena blurted out, flabbergasted. 

“Like I said before, I have yet to work out the finer details of this. Broadly speaking, in the daytime the cow can roam your neighbourhood. Your cat can show the cow the ins and outs of urban street life. As for night time, we could get a parking lot for the cow when the weather is fair, and a garage for when the weather isn’t.” How was it possible for the silver soldier to make so much sense without an ounce of logic?  “And who is going to milk the bloody cow? You know what? Don’t answer that. We are not getting a cow. And you’re not my cash cow, babe. You spoil me enough as it is, there’s no need for you to be concerned about my grocery bill, or how much I spend on the acquisition of milk.” When her silver companion scrunched his nose and started to speak up, the petite blonde cut him off by swinging a pillow into his face. “I mean it, Sephiroth. I’ll have a cow if you get me a cow, and I’ll show you what a goat does best; headbutting you into oblivion.” 

The silver soldier, recalling how the honey blonde once broke one of his ribs (or was it two?) when she railed at him at full force with a head-butt directly to his chest, summarised that Elena was indeed serious about not wanting a milk producing cattle. Sephiroth shrugged as he removed the pillow from his face, fluffed it, then tucked it back to the petite Turk’s side of the bed.  “You once asked me what my nickname was for you. I didn’t have one then, but I have now. You’re the Goat Turk.” Sephiroth declared as he flopped back onto the bed. “You’re great, you have the ability to vertically scale tall soldiers, chew through anything, not to mention a propensity for headbutting.”  Elena huffed as she, too, laid back down on the bed. “I am going to make sure the Turks change your assigned code-name to Cow. You look like one, with your white skin and hair along with your black leather uniform. Beefy, don’t need much sleep, stubborn…”

“Goat.”
“Cow.”
“Headbutts.” 
“Beef jerky. And for future reference, you do know you can ask me about such things instead of stewing about it for months and months, right?”
“You are one of the greatest things of all time to have happened to me, you do know that right?"
“…Go and sleep, you silly moo moo.” 

Chapter Text

The silver soldier stepped into the apartment of a certain blonde colleague, closing the door with one hand as he tugged off his shoewear with the other. Uncharacteristically, Sephiroth failed to line up his boots against the wall with his usual military precision. Leaving one boot slightly askew, the general slithered towards the petite Turk’s bedroom, shredding his belts and leather coat in the living room as he did so. He stepped into the bedroom to find Elena curled up on the bed, holding a book with one hand and stroking her pussy cat with the other. Elena brightened at the silver soldier’s appearance, while her pet Mackerel hissed at the interruption. As the cat and the soldier exchanged a mutual look of disapproval, the petite blonde sat up and stretched her arms out for a hug. Sephiroth shuffled towards the side of her bed, leaning down to kiss Elena on the forehead while pointedly ignoring her feline companion. 

Squinting intently into her honey brown eyes and finding her gaze clear and sharp, Sephiroth remarked: “Whatever you took, it must have been mild.” He missed the look of bewilderment that crossed Elena’s face as he sat down on the bed to remove his pants. She asked what he meant, but the silver soldier was distracted by his attempts to nudge Mackerel out of the way so that he would have space to lie down. Clicking her tongue, the Turk pulled the indignant Mackerel onto her lap and the general slid into her bed. 

“What were you saying again?” Elena queried, as her purring cat cuddled against her chest. Sephiroth ran a hand up and down her thigh as he replied that she looked rather unaffected by the cat huffing she said she was going to indulge in. The rather mystified blonde Turk pointed out that there had always been cat dander all over her apartment, which in turn mystified the silver soldier. Sephiroth was not surprised that Elena picked up some unsavoury habits during her stay in Wall Market; heck, he was in no position to judge since he had huffed more than his fair share in the slums. Regardless, the silver soldier was not expecting Elena to stash stuff all over her apartment. He has never seen any, for all the time he had spent here. And if she had taken the effort to conceal it so carefully all this while, why was the petite blonde admitting it so casually now? With a frown creasing his forehead, the silver soldier asked what made Elena decide to huff some this particular evening. 

“Well, Mack is here…” Elena rubbed her pet’s exposed belly fondly, and the cat purred in response. “Your cat is your drug dealer?” Sephiroth tilted his head in confusion, and Elena stopped petting the cat as she mirrored her silver companion.  An annoyed Mackerel leapt onto the silver soldier’s shoulder and thwapped his tail into the general’s mouth. Sephiroth spluttered as a tittering Elena settled the mewing feline back onto her lap.  “Serves you right for suggesting such a thing about Mack!” Elena chided, and her cat hissed in agreement. 

Plucking cat hair from his tongue, Sephiroth narrowed his patented mako green eyes at the petite blonde. “I don’t think we mean the same thing when we say huffing, Elena.” When prompted for a clarification, Sephiroth shrugged as he pointed out that huffing was a method of substance abuse. “What? No! Huffing a cat simply means I stick my face into Mack’s tummy fluff and take deep breaths! Okay… there is some inhaling involved but geezh, cat huffing is a sign of mutual affection and trust. Mack knows I am not going to bite his belly, and I know Mack isn’t going to scratch my skin off.” Elena explained, equal parts amused and annoyed that her silver companion so easily assumed that she was abusing narcotics. 

“Oh,” Sephiroth said after taking a long moment to process what Elena had shared. “To be fair, I couldn’t possibly have known that . When you texted me earlier that you were huffing cats, of course I was going to assume that you were… indulging, to relax after a long day’s work. Besides, if I tried to huff your cat, I am pretty sure he would claw my eyes out.” Giggling, the petite blonde cradled her cat into her arms and presented Mackerel’s belly to Sephiroth. “Try it.” Elena urged with a beam. The feline’s yowl of protest and her silver companion’s drawn out nooooooooooooo made her chuckle in response. 

“For such a mission, I would require at bare minimum a Final Attack materia linked with Life in my belt. A Sneak Attack, a Luck Plus, a Speed plus…  and both Shield and Barrier.” Sephiroth said as he tapped Mackerel’s nose, pulling his hand away before the cat could take a bite out of his finger. “Gaia speed. Half of the scars on my legs are Mack’s doing. I doubt even you, general, will walk away unscathed.” Elena nodded solemnly as she scratched the feline’s chin. As the silver soldier mumbled under his breath about getting an armoured suit for the cat huffing endeavour, the petite blonde tittered as she leaned down to plant her face into her pet’s warm tummy. 

Chapter Text

Elena, engrossed with a novel while crossed legged on her bed, barely acknowledged her silver companion slithering into her bedroom. But when the silver soldier placed a bundle of clothes by her knee and said it was “for the baby”, the petite blonde almost dropped the book as she felt her world shift sideways. 

Baby?! The blonde was not pregnant, has never been pregnant, and Gaia willing will never be pregnant. Staring at Sephiroth’s perfect rack of abs as he went through a series of stretches, Elena doubted her silver companion was pregnant either. If she was not pregnant and he was not pregnant, and the Turk had not impregnated anyone, has never impregnated anyone, and will never impregnate anyone (well, unless on company orders, and with a chocobo baster); was this the general’s way of letting her know that there was someone else and that he had gotten that someone else enceinte? And then what? Was he expecting her to play some sort of happy family with him? Or— was this Sephiroth’s way of signalling that he was ready to start a family? With her? Shit, technically the petite Turk and the silver soldier were still colleagues who happened to spend a fair amount of time together and bang each other a lot . They never did have “the talk” on what they were and where they were heading. After that company event where they kissed and he sent her home and she asked him up for coffee and he ended up getting more than caffeine— he just kept turning up and she just kept letting him in—

Letting out the breath she was not even aware she was holding in, Elena set her forgotten novel down and picked up the bundle of clothes for a closer look. There were three onesies, meant for newborns, in shades of pastel blue. Obviously expensive, thickly woven to withstand winter chill, silky soft to the touch. For the briefest of moments, Elena imagined an elfin girl baby with the iconic long silver hair and alabaster skin wearing the palest blue one, gazing around with her honey brown eyes and a petite pout on rosebud lips.  Shaking her head to dismiss that mental image, the Turk held up the clothes and squinted at her silver companion, who had been preoccupied with trying to release a kink in his back. “What’s this, Sephiroth?” 

“For the baby,” the silver soldier repeated himself with a grunt. Noticing the confused look on the honey blonde’s face, he added: “You said the baby was cold?” 

It all hit her like a ton of bricks, and Elena let out a giggly sigh of relief as the dots connected. For the past two weeks or so, Elena had been fretting over a mother cat and her kitten residing at the mako battery return point about two blocks away from her apartment. The mother cat had lost all but one of her litter, and was understandably very protective of the single kitten that remained. It took many days of coaxing before the mother cat started to wearily accept assistance from the petite blonde. Moving the felines indoors was out of the question for the stressed out mother cat, and it unfortunately meant the baby cat was exposed to the night time chills. Elena recalled that she had remarked about the poor shivering kitten the previous evening. While Sephiroth had listened attentively when she rambled on about the cats, she did not think he took much of it to heart. Much less proactively purchasing clothes to keep the kitten warm! The honey blonde could not help but shake her head at the silver soldier’s decision that it was a good idea to pick up baby clothes for a baby cat. 

“You do know the kitten doesn't need something so fancy, right? Baby cat would have been perfectly happy with one of your old socks or shirts.” Elena tittered as she put both her novel and the onesies into her bedside drawer.  Sephiroth, finally releasing the knot in his back, let out a satisfied sigh and then slid into bed. “Any spare clothes and heat I have are already reserved to keep one particular kitten warm,” the silver soldier mumbled sleepily as he pulled Elena into his arms. The honey blonde purred as she luxuriated in his warm embrace, rubbing her cheek affectionately against his.