Kingdom Hearts new I couldn't resist it for long; it just had to crouch in stealthy waiting, biding its time until it struck with plot ideas I couldn't really ignore. Ah, well.

Standard disclaimers apply, of course. I'm just borrowing someone else's action figures for a little bit.

Warnings: Slash heavily involved, and a working knowledge of Final Fantasy VII - IX would definitely make the 'new' additions more familiar. Post - KHII, so spoilers may run screaming at you at any time. Aforementioned slash pairings are less than conventional, but don't abandon me now just because the character tags tell a filthy lie when it comes to romance.

•••

Irvine pressed himself to the one small window of the gummi ship, still marveling that he trusted this hunk of rubber – oddly fruity smelling rubber, at that – to get them anywhere, much less through space. He still wasn’t altogether confident they weren’t going to lose whatever was holding them up and go spinning into a black hole.

“Looking kind of sea sick there.”

“We ain’t even on the sea, Zell,” Irvine pointed out.

“Same principles apply though, right? I guess?”

“No fucking clue.”

Irvine leaned back to ruffle Zell’s hair affectionately; Zell gave him that ‘I’m not fifteen anymore, you bastard’ face, which made him look fifteen anyway with his nose all scrunched up like that. Giving up his quest to worry about every little dust particle in space, Irvine settled back in his chair and threw his feet up on an empty storage container. He might be stuck on the most bizarre ferry ride ever, but damned if he’d be uncomfortable.

Still…

“You’re all sure about this?” Irvine asked.

“Absolutely.”

“You know I love you guys, but the trip through space thing? Death is seeming pretty imminent right now. Or just getting really, really damn lost and I do not look forward to spending eternity trapped in a small space with Kuja.”

“We’re right about this. Home is back, and we can get there, because we’re connected to it.” Zell pressed a hand against his chest, right over his heart. “We’ll make a path to Radiant Garden.”

Irvine poked him in the temple. “You think of that one all by yourself or have you been sneaking penny dreadfuls again?”

Zell punched him, which was horribly unfair considering Zell punched things to kill them.

•••

Yuffie sat on the ledge of the Bailey, leaning out over nothingness to peer at Ansem’s Castle. The Restoration Committee wanted to clean out the keep and make it a base of sorts, for supply, research and defensive reasons, but it appeared that Sora had not magically made everything well with his actions. Oh, for damn sure he’d made everything better, but heartless still clung to the remains of that castle like lichen to a rock.

It was frustrating; Yuffie strongly suspected that Leon was about five minutes away from just setting the place on fire, if he’d let go of his impulse control for just a little while. Maybe it was more than frustrating, maybe it was depressing. No matter what they did, no matter how hard they fought, there was always something else to be done, another hurdle to jump. Yuffie stuck her tongue out at the castle and the Heartless inhabiting it.

“I don’t think that’s going to do anything.”

Leave it to Cloud to not know a stress relieving action if it bit him on the butt. He was the whole entire reason Yuffie had to sit around on the Bailey anyway; he could at least let her stick her tongue out at whatever she wanted to. No wonder Aerith got sick of babysitting him all the damn time, if this was the excitement promised. But still, the others worried and thought Cloud was in need of Constant Supervision or something. In Yuffie’s expert opinion, Cloud could flee off world if he damn well felt like it, and she didn’t think he’d be throwing himself off the Bailey anytime soon. Suicide just didn’t seem…Cloud. Driving himself slowly insane, maybe, but not suicide.

“Are you kidding?” she chirped, instead of voicing those particular thoughts. “It makes them fear me!”

He just stared at her.

All of Cloud Strife’s little train cars were not connecting. In fact, Yuffie thought that maybe he only had one of them, and it kept going around and around in crazy little circles, just like that little plastic train Squall had put on her birthday cake when she was six. That had been the coolest thing ever, and not half as crazy as Cloud.

“They fear nothing,” he said stiffly.

“I am selling you to Leon,” she informed him. “You talk to Leon. Is it his pants? Does the power of the leather pants compel you to act like a normal human being?”

“Yuffie –“

She never got to know if she’d finally goaded him into homicidal thoughts, because the Leon in question chose that time to interrupt their little tea party and he did not look pleased.

“Cid’s picking up a gummi ship on the defense system,” he barked, firmly in Leader Mode. “It’s not Sora’s.”

Yuffie leapt up and did a neat back flip off the edge, mostly to prove she could after sculpting cold stone to her butt for nearly three hours. Even Cloud looked a bit perked up as they ran toward town and the place where gummi ships usually dumped their passengers.

“Hey Leon,” she said, running harder to catch up with him. “Do you remember my sixth birthday?”

He glared at her. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You gave me this awesome train on my cake. That made my whole entire month. Just wanted to say thanks.”

“You are so strange,” he muttered, but she thought that maybe she caught a pleased cast to his nervous expression.

Yuffie, one; Squall’s constant brooding, zero.

They skidded to a halt at the top of the town, where gummi ships usually dumped their passengers. Weapons drawn, they inched forward toward the exact spot where enemies might be in a few seconds.

Watching people depart gummi ships was vaguely nauseating. Like an old television struggling to bring a picture together out of static, people sort of blurred and fuzzed until they snapped into focus. Yuffie could say from experience that being the one arriving wasn’t much better, and she usually had to find a quiet corner to throw up in afterward.

The man at the front of the group was holding a rather large shot gun, and that was enough of a sign for Yuffie to take her shuriken off her back…

Even if the people behind him looked sort of familiar.

•••

Irvine had insisted on departing first, even if gummi travel was something he’d never done before. Maybe the boys were right and they’d be greeted with open arms by old friends, but Irvine sure as hell hadn’t grown up on this Radiant Garden and he more or less expected either drooling monsters or mobs and pitchforks. Maybe not realistic expectations, but preparing for the worst kept you alive a lot longer than hoping for the best.

Well, there were people and they didn’t have pitchforks, but they did have weapons. The laws of science stated that there was no way for Irvine to shield three twenty-somethings - two of them taller than him - from six attackers, but damned if he wouldn’t give it a good try.

(“You have such a mother hen complex,” Zidane had complained, months after fate had dropped the three boys nearly in Irvine’s lap.

“Matron Complex,” Irvine corrected, and none of them understood.)

Irvine’s skin had just started to get that nervous crawling sensation when Zell broke the tension in true Zell fashion – loudly.

“Squall!”

And before Irvine could even suggest that Zell might not want to throw himself bodily at the man holding a big sword-thing (the hilt was all wrong for a true sword), Zell had done just that. Irvine, wishing desperately he had two good eyes so he could keep track of both scenes at once, tore his attention away from Zell’s imminent impalement to look over his shoulder at Zidane and Kuja. They just stood there, paler than usual, looking slightly shell shocked.

Irvine wasn’t quite sure yet whether that was good or bad.

•••

Leon had almost resigned himself to the fact that there were people he’d never see again, at least not in this life. Hollow Bastion may have survived, but Rinoa didn’t; Rinoa didn’t, and Terra didn’t, Edgar didn’t, Sabin, Garnet, Kain…

He’d thought Zell hadn’t, but that wouldn’t explain why he was currently clinging to Leon like a limpet capable of rib cracking hugs. Stupid, sweet Zell who had insisted Squall was his best friend until Squall had given in; Zell who had prodded him into confessing he liked Rinoa; Zell who had gone down fighting even at fifteen, last Leon had seen of him.

“Stand down!” Leon barked as best he could with Zell’s determination to force all of the air out of his lungs.

Yuffie and the rest of the mostly not aggravating people listened to him immediately; Cloud kept his sword drawn, because flouting Leon’s authority at least twice a day made Cloud happy. It was Aerith who swept forward, past the one eyed man with the shot gun, to sweep the other two ‘new comers’ into a warm, motherly hug.

“Zidane!” she exclaimed, voice thick with tears and relief. “Kuja! We never thought you’d survived!”

Leon’s startled mental pause was nearly visible.

“Why is Kuja wearing a skirt?” He asked, directing the question mostly to Zell.

Zell finally relinquished his grip on Leon, bouncing back on his heels to grin like a kid who’d actually gotten a pony for Christmas.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Zell chirped; that made enough sense for Leon, who’d grown more than used to people having ‘personal quirks’.

It was Cid who avoided being caught up in teary nostalgia. “Who the fuck are you?” he barked.

The stranger stiffened, but tipped his hat in a manner Leon supposed was meant to be elegant.
“Irvine Kinneas,” he said, “renowned gun slinger and at your service. You would be Squall, by the way Zell here jumped on you.”

“Irvine’s cool,” Zell assured. “After we –“

“It’s getting dark and chilly out,” Aerith interrupted, her arms still around the shoulders of Zidane and Kuja. “Let’s go inside and I’ll make tea, then you can tell the whole story.”

Yuffie nodded enthusiastically. “You guys are the most exciting thing to happen around here since we last saw Sora.”

“Sora?” Kuja asked, his head canted to the side.

“Long story,” Cloud said, sweeping past them all to stalk toward wherever-Cloud-goes-to-brood, his sword finally sheathed.

Leon made a mental note to find Tifa and send her after him.

•••

Two hours later, Zidane was still in the middle of a long apology to Cid regarding the stealing of gummi ships, even if the world was imploding from the forces of a great evil. Aerith hummed quietly to herself as she did the dishes, pleased after her little chat with Kuja – the two had been close as children, and Yuffie didn’t want to think how much Aerith’s insanity would increase when she had help.

Their story was amazing, truly. When the heartless attacked, Zidane, Kuja and Zell had found themselves cut off from both friends and adults, and fled to Cid’s workshop. A little bit of Zidane’s quick thinking and mechanical skills, Kuja’s magic, and Zell holding off the heartless, and they’d manage to get off world.

“Only to land on my forsaken hunk of rock,” Irvine had added, smiling wryly.

Nine years, living in a foreign world. Nine years, to get the material and knowledge to repair the gummi ship. Nine years, waiting for Radiant Garden to stop leaking evil so that they could come home again.

It wasn’t so very different from what Leon’s group had gone through, Yuffie figured, so maybe it hadn’t been that bad. Being surrounded by people who loved you, even if some were gone – that made the whole thing bearable. Best of all, they’d had native help, though why they’d gotten attached enough to Irvine to bring him with them was a mystery to Yuffie.

She loved meeting people and making friends, for sure, but getting attached to people who weren’t connected to your world, your heart…that was just dangerous. They could be gone any minute, they could leave any minute. They didn’t know home like you did, didn’t care for the moss covered stone and crumbling buildings and horrid leaky roofs like you did. Who would want to stay on this forsaken hunk of rock, anyway, if they didn’t have the dazzling lights and beauty of Radiant Garden forever goading them to stay and try?

Irvine Kinneas was a strange, strange man. A scar bisected his face on a diagonal, cutting through the milky blindness of his right eye and taking an unfortunate piece of his nose with it; Leon was probably suffering from scar envy right then. Irvine didn’t seem at all self conscious about it, or the stares it was eliciting from Yuffie (she really couldn’t help it, pretty as he was despite the scar).

He scooted closer to where she leaned against the kitchen wall, long black boots tapping metallically on the tile. “Lost my eye when I was ten,” he said, voice smooth and purring. “Makes a great romantic tale. I’ll tell it to ya sometime, in private.”

The leering was worse than the scar, as far as Yuffie was concerned, and she stuck her tongue out at him in response. Her sleaze bag sensors were pinging, in the deep mysterious bits of her brain that also told her Aerith was very good at hiding criminal insanity and Cid was one day going to snap and kill everyone.

“Go sucks eggs,” she responded cheerfully.

“Do you have eggs here? They’re real hard to find back home – Zidane!” he snapped abruptly, his voice losing all slinky perverted undertones. “Kuja! Don’t even think about it!”

Yuffie twisted around to stare at the two men standing in the area that was sort of supposed to be a breakfast nook but was more the Official Planning Center of Doom. It seemed that leaving them to their own devices had been a miscalculation, as Zidane had a dagger drawn and Kuja was fairly crackling with magical energy, both of their tails twitching. Irvine strode over to them and put a hand on each of their shoulders, though they both topped his height by an inch or so, and yanked them apart.

“You two are gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He pushed Kuja gently toward the sink. “Go quote opera at your new girlfriend and stop baiting Zidane; Zidane, quite letting him goad you into attempted homicide.”

Kuja growled something completely incoherent and mostly animal, and Yuffie shuffled sideways a few steps as he stalked past her to, presumably, go bitch at Aerith.

“He started it!” Zidane declared.

“I’m sure of that,” Irvine said in a tone that heavily implied he’d been dealing with these incidents for nine years.

All these familiar faces, warped by time and distance; Zell’s strong features covered by tattoos, the dark black lines flowing down his arms as well, Kuja’s new proclivity toward skirts, Zidane finally getting enough height to be taller than everyone else. Where were the little boys she’d wrestled and played with, tried to drown in the fountain? She used to steal things with Zidane, spiriting wallets and little trinkets away from people to present back to them later, grinning like cats in the cream.

This sudden, abrupt thing hurt more than watching Squall deteriorate into some withdrawn, hostile creature he really wasn’t. She’d felt this aching sting when Cloud had shown up, trailing behind Cid like a lost little boy, eyes empty of anything but darkness and a struggling hope. At least she knew what had happened to Squall, and been sure of his chance of healing; a chance Sora had taken advantage of, bringing the sly smiles and sarcastic humor back to him. Yuffie didn’t know what the others had gone through, didn’t know if it could be fixed.

Didn’t know if they’d want to go back to the awkward, loud little kids they’d been, splashing in the backwards rivers of Radiant Garden.

She left Zidane and Irvine arguing behind her, slipping into the front room to plop on the sofa between Zell and Squall. This wasn’t officially anyone’s house, just a meeting place and general gathering point, so the furniture was eclectic and their current sofa a horrific shade of neon orange.

“Hey Yuffie,” Squall said, once Zell had noticed her presence and broken off his stream of babble. “Do you know where Tifa is?”

“Not a clue. And you can’t make me go look for Cloud, either, so don’t even think about trying. I’ve had enough of the darkity dark darkness for today, thanks. I swear that boy needs to get laid.” She peered up at him. “You should try it. He likes your pants.”

Squall snorted. “We’d kill each other.”

“So Spike’s um…” Zell made a vague, flappy hand gesture. “Bugfuck?”

“Don’t call him Spike,” Yuffie warned, “he’ll bite your head off. He’s gone loopy all right. Ask him about Sephiroth sometime; it’s the greatest soap opera you’ll ever hear a crazy man rant about.”

“Cloud took things hard,” Squall said, cutting Yuffie off before she could say more. “Especially after what happened with Zack and Sephiroth. Cut him some slack, Yuffie.”

“Why? You don’t.”

“I don’t make fun of him, either.” Squall frowned, scar wrinkling. “We all have our problems.”

“Whatever,” Yuffie drawled, almost mockingly. “Anyway, I’m not staying in the same house as Irvine. He sounds pervy, and I can’t be held responsible for castrating him in my sleep if he tries anything.”

“He’s not pervy!” Zell objected. “Okay, a little. But he doesn’t really mean it, most of the time. He’s just relieved he hasn’t gotten anything more important to worry about than hitting on people.”

“I’m glad someone was there to take care of you,” Leon said, sarcastic smile tugging at his lips, “you always were a hopeless spaz.”

“I’m not a spaz!” Zell objected loudly, waving his hands in a distinctly spaz-like manner. “I am graceful and strong and all sorts of definitely not spazzy things, Squall!”

Squall’s smile faded. “Leon.”

Zell canted his head to the side. “Huh?”

“My name. Call me Leon from now on.” Awkward silence descended over the couch, and Yuffie fidgeted. “I’m going to go see what houses are in good enough repair for you guys to stay in.”

And with that, Squall – or Leon, since he was still very determined to be a poop head – pushed himself off the couch and left.

“He’s a little off in the head too,” Yuffie said.

•••

Irvine had finally gotten fed up with keeping Zidane and Kuja from ripping each other’s throats out and decided to go exploring. It was a nice little town, for being mostly in disrepair; definitely better than the shit hole he’d grown up in. He didn’t see any one eyed little kids running around, for one, though he was willing to bet moogles were some sort of freak radiation accident. They kept making noises at him and almost made him miss a few good, normal moombas.

His feet had wandered into the rocky valley between the town and the creepy looking castle. It was the closest thing he’d ever really gotten to nature, and quite awe inspiring if only because if he stood at exactly the right spot he couldn’t see any buildings at all. A flash of metal, though, caught his good eye and he squinted up at the ledge it had originated from. Backing up a few steps, Irvine got a running start to jump up and catch the edge with his hands before hefting himself up onto the stone shelf.

The flash had come from the gigantic sword strapped across the back of the blond who had left them earlier. Irvine was no expert, but he’d say the blond gave off definite ‘no touchy-touch’ vibes. Those vibes had never meant a damn thing to Irvine before, and he definitely wasn’t going to start respecting personal boundaries now.

One step toward the other man and he’d leapt toward his feet, drawn his sword and spun around. Startled, Irvine held up his hands in the hopefully universal gesture of good intentions and generally being unarmed.

“Whoa, hey, don’t worry,” he said, trying to smile reassuringly. “I’m just taking a look around.”

“Why?”

Irvine shrugged. “Never been here before, seemed like a good plan to get acquainted with the place. I’m Irvine Kinneas,” he added, just to prod a conversation into being.

“Cloud Strife.”

“Heh. Cloud and Squall. Your mothers watch the weather channel too much or what?”

Cloud narrowed his eyes. Irvine had the distinct impression of someone who was not afraid to impale annoying people on general principle.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Go away,” Cloud ordered, sheathing his sword and turning his back on Irvine.

Irvine didn’t know whether to be flattered that Cloud hadn’t killed him or irritated that he’d been dismissed as a threat. He didn’t carry three guns around just because they looked shiny. Either way, he was now quite determined to talk to Cloud Strife. He walked up and plopped down next to him, stretching out his long legs.

“Why’d you run away so fast? Not happy to see your friends?”

“I haven’t seen them in nine years,” Cloud muttered, “they’re not my friends.”

Irvine thought for a moment. “You know, I recognize your name now. Zell and Zidane were always telling stories, and you came up quite a bit. Reclusive kid, weren’t ya?”

Cloud glared. “They were too loud.”

“I can see how that might be a problem for you.” Irvine smiled his best gentle smile. “You’re mad cause they’re not yours, aren’t you? Squall there gets his Zell back, but there’s no –“

“Shut up,” Cloud growled. “I don’t care what stories they’ve told you. It’s none of your business.”

“Usually isn’t. And yet, I say stuff anyway. That has gotten me in trouble so many times.” Cloud’s hands clenched irritably in the fabric of his pants, and Irvine decided a change of topic was in order. “Beautiful here, isn’t it?”

Maybe not many people would say so, with the broken castle and the scarred landscape, but to Irvine it was coming mighty close to heaven. Hollow Bastion was a far cry from the monster and smog clogged alleyways of his city youth, grime and grease on your hands and in your lungs. The air was clean.

Cloud looked at him a moment, evidently startled. “Ya. I guess it is.”

They shifted their focus toward the beautiful horizon and watercolor sunset, and spent the next few hours not talking.