A/N: It’s been...a very, very long time since I updated this, and I apologize. No excuses. Please don't hate me? I'll give you cake!

Just so you know, I’ve decided to make a couple style changes, namely that I won’t have headings with times and places anymore because I was trying to calculate and allow for timezones and it just ended up giving me a big headache and it really isn’t necessary. I’m also going to decrease the length of my chapters – I was originally aiming for long chapters of ~8000 words each, but I’m cutting that in half in the hopes that it’ll make me update more frequently.

I don't own Transformers or The Wizard of Oz.

Chapter II

He stared up at the sky. It was an overcast night, the clouds dark shadows, but through gaps he could see a magnificent meteor shower. His old bones were protesting at being up so late and from lying on the hard rock for so long, but he smiled, more than used to their complaints and very skilled at ignoring them.

He heard quiet, unhurried footsteps behind him, and he started sitting up to greet the person, undoubtedly a member of the canyon city. Half way into a sitting position, a primal, animalistic fear twisted in his gut, the feeling so abrupt it made him choke on his own breath. The feeling dissipated as suddenly as it came, leaving a faint aftertaste of bile. His heart was pounding in his chest, sweat cooled on his skin, and he noticed the footsteps had stopped.

A gloved hand clamped over his mouth, and he struggled wildly, yelling into the hand and trying to bite down, twisting and turning. He stopped, seeing a blade glint dully in the darkness centimetres from his face.

“Good man,” said a voice quietly, low and faintly accented. “I have some questions for you. If you answer them, I will not harm you or any other resident of the Canyon. If you do not, I will kill you and move on to the next person. If you attempt to escape or cry for help I will kill you and move on to the next person. Nod if you understand.”

Swallowing, he bobbed his head. The hand was removed but the blade stayed in front of his face, waving back and forth tantalizingly.

He answered all the questions the man asked, and his eyes never left the hypnotic dance of the blade in front of him. After what seemed an eternity, the blade stopped moving, lowering away from his face.

“Thank you for your cooperation in this matter. You saved many lives tonight.”

The blade slid smoothly up and under his ribcage, piercing his heart.

He saw a flash of amber as he slumped back, staring at the sky.

The meteors streaked by, heedless of the snuffed-out life far below.

Yuffie awoke with a dry mouth and a really big fucking headache.

“Owww,” she mumbled, turning over so her face was buried in the pillow, as if the fluffiness would somehow ease the tempo currently beating against the inside of her skull. She’d had her share of hangovers, but this one definitely cut the cake.

Images from the party the night before slowly flashed inside her muddled head. Reno doing a drunken dance...Reeve laughing, red in the face...downing shot after shot in her contest with Cid...

Her eyes flew open as she flipped onto her back, only to immediately shut again as the light assaulted her already aching head, but the light didn’t wash away the suddenly vivid memory of her blurting out everything to everyone.

“Fuck!” she whisper-yelled, burying her face in her hands. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuck why the hell did I say all that?” Stupid, stupid Kisaragi! This is your problem, not theirs!

Groaning, she smacked herself in the forehead. Maybe she should run away before anyone else woke up so she wouldn’t have to deal with what would undoubtedly be a week full of pitying and sympathizing friends. It’s my problem, dammit, I’ll deal with it by myself. Stupid, stupid me! She peeked open an eye to check the clock resting on the nightstand.

One o’clock in the afternoon. There was almost no chance of her sneaking out undetected. Everyone else – maybe excluding Cid and Reno – was undoubtedly already up and about.

She contemplated just hiding in her room for the rest of the week, but she was surprised Tifa hadn’t checked in on her yet and had no doubts that the barmaid would not wait much longer to do so. Besides, her headache was demanding ibuprofen. No magic hangover cure for her today, she felt way too down and exhausted to use materia. And she'd be damned if she asked anyone else for a Cure or Esuna.

Maybe I can just pretend I don’t remember anything from last night, she thought as she slowly started getting dressed, her usual outfit feeling almost painfully tight. She dismissed the notion quickly; no doubt someone would bring it up whether she mentioned it or not.

Grabbing her headband from where it had been discarded haphazardly on the floor, she cautiously opened the door and squinted into the hallway. There was no one in sight, though she heard the faint tinkling of dishes and unintelligible murmuring coming from downstairs. Likely the lunch crowd. She made her way to the bathroom, softly closing the door behind her.

Popping open the cabinet, she grabbed some painkillers, taking out two and dry-swallowing them, scrunching up her face slightly at the taste. Closing the cabinet, she glanced at the mirror, but after taking one look at the massive bags under her eyes she looked away. No doubt she would scare small children, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

Padding her way out of the bathroom, she tied her headband haphazardly in place. Maybe she could sneak out during the rush of the lunch hour. It was worth a try, at least. She descended cautiously down the steps, and as she reached the bottom received an unpleasant surprise.

The lunch crowd was, in fact, made up of everyone who had been at her birthday party the night before. A quick glance at the door confirmed what she had already concluded – Tifa had actually closed the bar.

She turned her eyes back to the room. The chatter she had heard upstairs had completely died down to leave a stifling silence in its wake. Nearly everyone was staring just above her head or at the floor, with only a few exceptions. Cloud was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, but met her gaze cautiously. Tifa was staring at her with an almost painful intensity, and Reno’s gaze was sharp, meeting her eyes unflinchingly. Only Vincent and Rude looked normal; Rude’s face unreadable as always, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses, and Vincent watching her calmly from the corner, his nose and mouth obscured by his cloak.

The silence made her bristle with annoyance. Scowling, she crossed her arms and slouched against the door frame.

“A ‘good morning, Yuffie’, would be nice, ya know,” she snapped, regretting her tone almost as soon as the words left her mouth but far too annoyed with herself and with them to apologize. She wished the painkillers would kick in already, as her headache seemed to feed off the awkward silence in the air.

“Yuffie...” Tifa started, but her gentle tone instantly had Yuffie on the defensive.

I don’t want any pity. It’s my problem that I’m in this situation, and it’s my problem you guys even know about it.

“Frosted Cheerios, please, Teef, and a glass of water,” she interrupted before Tifa could get any farther, walking stiffly to the bar and taking a seat.

Tifa didn’t move, her expression only growing more sympathetic. She opened her mouth, but Yuffie wasn’t about to even let her start.

“I don’t wanna talk about it, alright?” she grit out, glaring at the counter. “Can we move on?”

“Look, Yuffs – “ Cid started.

“Don’t. Want. To talk about it! Just leave it, for Leviathan’s sake!”

She closed her eyes, feeling dizzy, her headache still pounding away. Please, just leave it. Her words echoed for several seconds, the room silent except for the awkward shuffle of clothing. For one blessed moment, she thought that they would respect her wishes, but then Tifa started up again.

“Is there anything – “

“Oh for shit’s sake – leave it! It’s my problem, alright, I’ll deal with it!” she yelled. Tifa stopped, but she had a determined look on her face that Yuffie had seen all too many times before and she knew her friend was far from finished. She couldn’t deal with this stifling sympathy. Not right now.

“Forget it, I’ll be back later,” she said, not looking at anyone as she got up and walked out of the bar, only barely managing to stop herself from slamming the door behind her. To her embarrassment she felt tears on her face, and she wiped them away angrily.

She headed for the nearest back alley, feeling almost instantly more relaxed as she walked into the shadows of the buildings that towered all around. She knew the city of Edge like the back of her hand, and then some, what from gallivanting around during the DeepGround incident and her various WRO missions. After saving the world three times now, she was very grateful to have this knowledge; it allowed her to avoid crowded places, full of people who would try to thank her or shake her hand or have her bless their children. Yuffie had used to imagine that being famous and a hero would be pure awesomeness, partly because everyone would adore her and give her lots of shiny gifts and partly because it was something she could stick in the face of her father and show him that she had, in fact, made something of her life, with no thanks to him. Lately, however, she found herself missing her privacy and relative autonomy outside of Wutai. It made stealing things a lot more difficult when everyone knew your name and face.

These negative thoughts were not helping her mood, though the headache was thankfully starting to retreat at this point. She needed a distraction, and she knew just the thing. There was nothing like some intensive training to keep the mind off things. And she had the whole city for a challenging obstacle course, waiting and ready to provide her with something to focus on.

And Leviathan knew she needed to focus on something other than that damn arranged marriage and the fact she had just yelled at her best friend for trying to help her.

Walking until she was underneath the nearest fire escape, she closed her eyes, breathing deeply for a minute. She slowly kneeled down, then forced herself rapidly upwards, taking two springing steps from wall to wall that took her with in grasping reach of the lowest rung. Eyes narrowed in focus, a grim smile on her face at the strain in her muscles, she started to climb.

Though the door was closed quietly enough, the shik of the doorknob locking back into place seemed harsh and grating. Vincent stared at the door for a moment before returning his gaze back to the rest of the room’s occupants.

It was a credit to Tifa’s character, he thought, that she did not look hurt but rather concerned. He figured that Tifa realized, as did he and, he hoped, everyone else, that Yuffie was more annoyed with herself than with anyone else and that no one should take her actions personally.

His gaze flickered back to the door and a slight frown crossed his face, hidden by his cloak. He was concerned she might do something foolish in her agitation, and end up getting hurt, or more likely, hurting someone else.

“Vincent.”

His eyes snapped to meet Cloud’s, instantly on his guard. The tone of Cloud’s voice was one he hadn’t heard in ages – that of a leader giving orders.

“Could you go after her, please? I don’t want her to do something stupid.”

So he wasn’t the only one with concerns, then.

“Me?”

“Yer the only one who can put up with that brat when she’s in a pissy mood,” Cid snapped. Vincent’s eyes narrowed, an instinctive urge to protect his friend rising in him, but he kept himself from saying anything. It appeared Cid had not taken Yuffie’s rejection of sympathy as well as Tifa had.

“You can keep your mouth shut,” Reno drawled. “You won’t offer sympathy and you won’t snap back at her.”

Vincent supposed it was true enough – he had hung around Yuffie long enough that he could handle her no matter what mood she was in, though it tried even his patience at times. Shrugging, he headed out after Yuffie without further ado.

The air was bitingly fresh with a late fall chill that threatened snow. He took his time to glance around, taking in all possible routes away from the bar that Yuffie may have taken. There were numerous ways she could’ve gone, but if Vincent knew Yuffie as well as he thought he did she would be heading for somewhere quiet and away from people.

He headed down the nearest alley.

: :

He’d been walking for nearly half-an-hour and had yet to see a hair of Yuffie. The alleys of Edge were like a maze; with so many buildings going up and the ruins of Midgar still prominent the city had become random and unorganized.

Turning another corner and seeing no one, he growled slightly in frustration. This was hopeless – there were thousands of possible routes she could’ve taken at this point. He needed to search more efficiently.

Crouching down, he sprang upwards, his inhuman strength easily propelling him to the first level of a fire escape. He jogged up the stairs, the rusted metal flaking away beneath his boots.

Reaching the roof, he stopped. There was a biting wind, pulling at his cloak and hair, but his senses worked much better in the open than they had in the stifling alleyways below. He closed his eyes, drinking in all the scents and sounds the wind carried with it.

...There. He opened his eyes, allowing himself to relax a little. His freak abilities did have their uses. Turning into the wind, he picked up a quick run, and leapt from the roof.

She jumped, spinning, her body nearly horizontal in the air, never releasing the length of metal rod she’d picked up. Landing, she whipped the makeshift-staff right, fending off an imaginary blow before countering. The basic exercises felt strange and rough – she had been neglecting her weapons training recently, focusing only on her preferred shuriken. Her arms felt sore, unused to the weight and balance of a staff.

But the exercise was doing its job and keeping her mind off...other things.

She sensed more than heard his presence. Instincts kicking in, she ducked low, dropping the staff, and reached above her to grab the leg that was occupying the space her head had just been. Still holding on to the appendage, she swept one leg out behind her, but he was already moving, expecting the trip, leaping up so he was straight above her, driving his knee down towards her. She released his leg, rolling out of the way and flipping herself back up so she was standing.

Vincent straightened up, staring at her neutrally. He had removed his gauntlet and ditched the armour that usually covered his boots. Cerberus still hung from his hip, but he made no move to draw it.

She felt tense, waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t say a word. Several silent moments passed, and just as she opened her mouth to demand what the hell he was doing here, he lunged, left hand balled into a fist.

Caught off-guard, she barely got one arm up to deflect the blow, his fist clipping her shoulder, causing her to spin awkwardly. His right hand came up blindingly fast, blowing past her off-balance attempt to block and ramming into her stomach. The wind wooshed out of her, and she fell to one knee, gasping. A blur of black announced that Vincent’s foot was rapidly approaching her face, and she desperately rolled to the side, barely dodging the attack. Vincent tried for another kick, but she expected it now, adrenaline surging. Allowing the foot to go sailing past, she lunged for him, using his leg as a visual block. She locked her arm straight, swinging it into the back of his knee, causing it to buckle. He fell backwards, but still managed to direct an elbow towards her. Swearing, she dodged nimbly out of the way. He was up and standing again in a moment, arms raised in a ready stance.

“You used my leg to block my line of sight,” he commented, even as he threw a roundhouse kick at her, which she easily dodged.

Yuffie was surprised to find she was smiling. “What are you doing here, Vince?” she asked, countering with a swift flurry of punches that Vincent casually blocked.

“I thought you might like a sparring partner,” he said, his tone neutral.

She stopped, eyeing him, a surge of affection for her friend rising through her.

“Thanks,” she muttered quietly.

He responded by aiming another punch for her face.

Vincent hid a satisfied grin as Yuffie finally held her hands up in defeat. He lowered his hands, feeling the most physical exhaustion he had since DeepGround. He felt short of breath – nothing compared to the gasping Yuffie, but for him it was a lot.

“Alright, I give up,” Yuffie panted, her exhalations leaving plumes of white in the air. “I can’t keep up with your super demon stamina of superness. Genetic enhancements is considered cheating in organized sports, you know, which means I won this match by default.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, not responding. He looked away out over the rooftops of Edge, but continued to study her out of the corner of his eye. The tension that had been present in her since that morning had all but faded away, leaving her looking her usual relaxed and happy self. He was not so foolish as to think the issue had disappeared just because they’d beaten on each other for an hour or so, but he was happy that he could give her even a temporary relief.

Yuffie straightened up, looking around.

“Where’s all yer stuff, Vinnie?”

He gestured with a slight tilt of his head to the roof across from theirs.

Yuffie grinned the kind of grin that usually resulted in things catching on fire or materia mysteriously disappearing.

“Yuffie – “ he warned, but before he could finish she had taken off, sprinting across the rooftop and leaping to the one opposite them. Her speed always impressed him – he could easy out run her in anything long distance, but when it came to short bursts she was the fastest in all of AVALNCHE. He followed after her, easily jumping the gap between buildings and landing to see Yuffie wearing his gauntlet, which looked ridiculously big on her petite hands.

“Holy crap, Vinnie, this thing is heavier than Barret! How do you wear this all day?”

“Yuffie, be careful, please, it’s very sharp – “

“Yeah yeah I know,” she said, waving the gauntlet around haphazardly, making Vincent extremely nervous.

“Yuffie – “

“Oh my gawd, I am so trying on your metal boot cover thingers,” she exclaimed, gleefully grabbing the said objects. Strapping them on with alarming speed, she straightened and struck a pose.

“I feel like Optimus Prime wearing these, Vinnie!” she cried gleefully. “Autobots, roll out,” she said, her voice oddly monotone, as she stepped around jerkily.

Vincent stared at her, nonplussed.

Yuffie shot him an exasperated look. “C’mon, Vince, don’t tell me you’ve never watched Transformers.”

He remained silent.

She looked at him expectantly. “Well?”

“...You told me not to tell you I’ve never watched Transformers.”

She frowned, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You, sir, are hopeless.”

He shrugged. She ignored him, playing with his gear for a few moments.

“So now what, Vince?”

She wasn’t looking at him, instead running her hands over the ridges of his gauntlet.

“It’s up to you, Yuffie,” he said quietly. This was her decision, not his.

“If I told you to screw off and leave me alone what would you say?” she asked, her tone light and conversational.

“I wouldn’t say anything.”

“What would you do, then?”

“I would ignore you and continue to follow you around,” he replied honestly.

She grinned at him. “That’s my Vinnie-Vin-Vinster.” She sighed, stretching, before removing all of his gear and tossing them carelessly to the ground. He frowned at her, but she ignored it, bouncing away from him instead.

“Alrighty, off we go then. Time to follow the yellow brick road and all that.”

Vincent blinked. “The Wizard of Oz.”

Yuffie halted, spinning to stare at him incredulously.

“You get the Wizard of Oz reference but not the Transformers reference? Geez, Vinnie, get with the times, man. And don’t give me any of that ‘I slept in a coffin for 30 years’ bullshit excuse either. No one would go stay anywhere for such a long period of time without installing a flat panel TV, cable, and a massager. And a mini bar.”

Vincent remained silent, content to let her chatter away. He strapped his boots back on, and slipped the gauntlet over his left hand, flexing his fingers.

“I bet you had one hell of a porno stash in there too, Vinster. And karaoke and a bread maker and a pet cockroach you named Randy who lived off of Cheetos and booze from aforementioned mini bar and you two were best friends and stayed up late telling each other secrets and giggling over boys.”

“How did you know?” Vincent deadpanned.

“Oh I know everything, Vincent. I am, after all, the Great Ninja Yuffie, the Single White Rose of Wutai and just generally fantasmic and holy shit you just used humour didn’t you I am speechless, ya know, figuratively speaking because the Great Ninja Yuffie is never truly speechless - ”

Yuffie maintained a nearly ceaseless stream of onesided conversation all the way back to the bar. When they finally reached it, however, she fell silent.

He waited patiently as she stared at the door of the bar, her face unreadable. Several minutes of silence passed before she spoke.

“It’s my problem, Vincent. I don’t want anyone’s help on this one, alright?”

He studied her carefully. He was confident he understood her reasoning. Yuffie’s pride and honour as a Wutaian princess was at stake. If she could not handle this on her own, then she would see herself as unfit to rule.

“Whatever you say, Yuffie,” he said quietly. She gave him a smile, before striding quickly towards the door, evidently eager to get whatever confrontation waited within done and over with. He hoped that everyone, namely Tifa and Cid, would accept Yuffie’s wishes to handle this alone. If not, he would have a word with them.

His eyes never leaving Yuffie, he followed the shinobi into the bar.

He rolled the cigar between his fingers, holding it to his nose and taking a deep breath. The smell was always the best part, and was to be savoured. His father had taught him that. Among other things. Like if you want something, take it, and don’t let anything get in your way.

A rough knock sounded on his door.

“Come in.”

The door swung open to admit two of his men, one clutching a handheld video camera.

“Surveillance Team Three reporting in, sir.”

“What is it?” he asked, the cigar forgotten.

“We got some video I think you might be interested in, sir,” one said, holding out the camera. He took it, popping open the viewfinder and hitting play.

“Yuffie Kisaragi was spotted leaving the Seventh Heaven earlier this afternoon, and Surveillance Team Two reported that Vincent Valentine followed closely after. We followed at a distance, getting what footage we could. If you fast forward to about fourteen hundred hours, sir, you’ll see the good stuff.”

He obligingly hit the fast forward until the indicated time, hitting play once more.

He raised an eyebrow. “They’re quite good, aren’t they? Even that little foreign bitch.”

He watched, studying the movements of the two figures in the video.

“How long does this go on?”

“A good hour, sir.”

He snapped the viewfinder shut, handing it back to the men.

“Upload this and make sure you get a copy of that fight to Ivan. He wants all information on Valentine, and he wanted it yesterday. Get to it.”

“Yessir.” The men saluted, turning on their heel and marching out. He stared after them, before picking up the cigar once more, breathing in its scent.

It wouldn’t be long now. HQ was finally moving – whatever it was they had been waiting for had arrived. And then he would get what he wanted.

And nothing would get in his way.

A/N: Alright, kinda a filler chapter, I know, but necessary to start the real plot rolling.