Ever wonder what made Cid turn to chainsmoking and alcohol? Just what made him crack.... Five years before the game, Cid Highwind works for ShinRa, but must ignore his job for a few days when he gets a letter from his Loopy Hillbilly Aunt Eva. Chaos ensuses as the Turks become involved...

Disclaimer: Ok, I don't own Cid, Shera, the Turks or ShinRa, or any other part of FFVII. Both Gene and Aunt Eva are original Characters though... so they're mine, though kudos go to my mom (of all people laughs who thought this up for me.)


Chapter 1 Aint Eaver

Cid Highwind heaved a sigh. At twenty-seven, he was incredibly young to be the world's finest pilot, but he was. He was very proud of where he stood with his skills, and his dream come true just an arms' reach away, it seemed, but it wasn't easy working for ShinRa on any basis…

He huffed, wandering home. He'd flown all the way to Midgar and back, to have a chat with Heddiger about the Space Program. While he loved the thought of one day entering space -the rocket was already built, two years past its completion, a small town lovingly dubbed Rocket Town popping up around it- he hated Heddiger. He hated ShinRa, and if it weren't for the funding coming straight from the top, Cid would have nothing to do with any of it. Still…He heaved a content sigh, taking in the sweet smell of the fresh highland air. To the north rose the Nibel Mountains, the south, the ocean. And there, nestled against the sweet evergreen crested hills, rising before a beautiful grassy plane, was Rocket Town. This was Cid's heaven. He skipped a little, skin still tingling from the wind -he flew the Tiny Bronco, his pride and joy, his private plane, with the cockpit open. It had been a cold flight back, but it had been worth it to feel the wind in his face.

He sauntered up to his own house, shared with his number one mechanic, Shera, and was about to open the front door, gloved hand on the doorknob, when he was stopped.

"Oi! Highwind!" Cid turned to face a slightly older man rushing towards him, waving a small envelope in one hand. Cid sighed, but moved quickly to meet the man.

"What is it?" Cid asked carefully, taking the envelope. The man smiled grimly.

"Letter from yer aunt." Cid paled.


"Yeah, I think so." His elder agreed. Cid glanced darkly at the offending letter. He sighed. "G'luck, kid." Cid muttered, wandering off back inside, opening the envelope as he walked.

"Cid? Is that you?" Shera called.

"Yeah, its me…" He said hoarsely. "Got another damned letter from my aunt." He called. Shera could be heard moving closer to the front room.

"Oh no…" Cid sighed, and finally yanked out a dirt-smeared piece of yellowed paper, holding it gingerly between two fingers as if it might bite.

'Dear Sydney.' Cid paused to roll his eyes. Damned old bird can't even get my name right…'Hope all is well for you and your business…' business? What the F# did mom tell her?!'I called your mother, and your uncle, and your cousins… but no one seems to be living in the same place anymore except for you.' Cid nearly screamed. No. No no no no! Do NOT ask me to go down there and give you a 'little hand'!Cid read on, sweating. 'Would ya please come down an' give me a little hand? Only a few days. I'll pay you good, ah promise!' Cid's eyes began to water.

"…SHERRRRAAAAA!" He hollered, voice cracking. Shera poked her head around a corner worriedly.

"Is it bad?" Cid's lip trembled.

"She wants me to visit her." Shera dropped the plate of cookies she was carrying.

"Oh good heavens! When?" Cid glanced back at the paper that was beginning to crumple under his grip.

'See you in two oh three days!


Your Aunt Eva'

"Two or three days…" Cid said numbly.

"You can't! You have to work!" Shera complained. Cid sighed.

"I can't ignore her, Sher. Mom'll kill me!"

"Your mother still tells you what to do?" Shera said critically. Cid sighed.

"Just with Aunt Eva."

"So what are you going to do?" A devious gleam hit Cid's eyes.

"I'm leavin'."


"Can I have dinner first?" Shera threw her hands up in dismay.

"What will you tell ShinRa, Cid?!" Shera demanded while Cid ate as fast as he could. The sooner he got to Aunt Eva's, the sooner he got to come home.

"The hell you mean, 'tell ShinRa'?! I ain't tell'in them crap!" Shera gave another cry of dismay.

"Well, where does she live?" Cid's eye twitched.

"Out by the swamps behind Kalm…" Shera wrinkled her nose.


"No shit."




"Aw, screw you, I'm in a bad mood!" Cid finished his meal, rubbing his neck irritably and wandered off to pack his things.

The sun shone over Rocket Town, but rain clouds poured over Cid's head. He walked with less zeal than he usually did, patting the Tiny Bronco grimly as he climbed into the little plane and prepared for flight. The sun was barely up, but already it was bright and warm. Cid groaned. Out where Aunt Eva lived, it was balmy, hot and humid with all kinds of critters and insects that bit and festered. No one in their right mind would live where Aunt Eva did…

The flight was uneventful, and Cid landed as close as he could, on relatively dry land. He'd seen the Midgar Zolom passing under his shadow, head rearing under the deeper swamplands, just waiting for him to pass low enough to snatch, and he spat down at the thing. Fortunately, it couldn't reach the drier land to the south, and he would be safe from /that/ monster, though others certainly took its place.

Now he tromped through the waist high grasses and mud, going deeper back into shadowy forest, and Cid swore he could hear a banjo playing somewhere. He shivered. damned hick weirdoes…It was a long walk up to Aunt Eva's, a good two or three miles, and it was late afternoon by the time Cid reached the old, slightly leaning mansion. The paint, once a chipper shade of salmon pink, was peeling badly, revealing blackened, century-old wood underneath. He walked carefully up the porch, hoping he wouldn't fall through, and wincing as he trailed mud across it Finally reaching the door, Cid paused, bracing himself, before finally knocking, hoping he wouldn't topple the whole house. Nothing. Cid blinked, and knocked again, a little harder. Still nothing. Maybe she died and I won't have to stay…he thought hopefully. He knocked a third time, and this time, regrettably heard movement somewhere inside.

"Hello?" He called. "Aunt Eva?"

"Ah dun wan any!" Came the feisty voice of an eighty-something year old woman inside.

"Aunt Eva! Its me, Cid! You wrote me a letter a few days ago…?" Suddenly the door swung open.

"Eh? Here already?! How'd yeh get here so fast?" Cid shrugged.

"I flew."

"Smartass!" Aunt Eva accused. Cid sighed.

"In a /plane/, Aunt Eva." I'm gunna flippin crack…He thought dryly.

"Oooh! Weil how nice!" Aunt Eva's southern drawl was already grating on Cid's nerves. "Weil, come awn in now, kay, sweethaart!" The old woman ushered Cid in.

The first thing Cid noticed was a rather large, roundish man, neeling in front of an old telivision set, his pants sliding dangerously low, revealing two very full moons. Cid blinked. That s#& not wearin' any underwear?!He felt sweat beading on his forehead at the unnerving thought.

"Gene! Pull yo drawr's up or put on some underwear!" Aunt Eva exclaimed. Gene looked up.

"Sawry, 'Eaver." Aunt Eva was often known as 'Aint Eaver'. That is, her name with a southern hillbilly drawl like the world had never seen before. Aunt 'Eaver' wrinkled her nose.

"Naw ya ain't! Shape up, boy!" Cid smiled weakly at the man. The man smiled back.

"Heya, cutie." He said in a voice that made Aunt Eva sound manly. The beads of sweat on Cid's forehead were multiplying like rabbits. Oh no…He hurried after Aunt Eva into the next room.

"Hopefully, Gene will have th' telervision fixed bah dis eveni'n…" In the next room, there was a sort of short buzzing sound and then the scratchy noise of a news broadcast.

"Gawt it, Eaver!" Gene called in his would-be-queen voice, making Cid shiver, and sit with his knees together as he sat down at Aunt Eva's dusty old kitchen table. Sweet Planet, let some horrible meteor or comet or something come crashing to the ground and flatten me and this entire #$(#ing swamp…


"Damnit! Where th' hell is he!?" Shera glared balefully at the redhead.

"He went to visit his aunt." She said flatly. Reno blinked.

"That dumbshit of a pilot ditched a vital meeting to go visit some old aunt?!" Shera grinned at the Turk.


"Well, we need him here. Where does she live?" Behind him, Rude wandered about Shera's house, examining the framed pictures on the wall quietly, expression unreadable with his eyes hidden behind his ever present sunglasses. Shera, still talking to Reno, shrugged.

"Dunno. Out in the boonies somewhere."

"How can't you know!!? You're lying--!" Rude sighed, stepping in.

"I think she's telling' the truth." He said quietly. Shera shrugged.

"She lives in a swamp, if its any help…" Shera went on. "But why on earth does ShinRa need to send the Turks after a single pilot?!" Reno sighed.

"Because they hate us, and we're the newbies." Shera snickered.

"Come on, Reno." Rude said, turning quietly and wandering back out the door casually, in no hurry whatsoever.

"What?!" Reno complained. "But we haven't gotten anywhere yet!"

"I have an idea."

"Oh, lovely… He's got an idea…" Reno distinctly heard Shera laughing as the door slammed shut behind him.


AN: Hehe... :) Okay, I didn't want to say this at the beginning of the fic, but both Gene, and Aunt Eva are real people. They are the aunt and cousin of a family friend. Gene is really gay(and no, he doesn't wear underwear, and yes, it is visibly evident) , Aunt Eva is just as crazy, and events coming in the near future of this fic are things that actually happened to our friend Jim and his Wife. of course, the events will be rearranged to fit the events of the fic- there will be a variety of people experiencing Aunt Eva, instead of just Jimbo in real life.

I'd like to thank Jim for his wonderful storytelling over dinner, as he painted a beautiful image of just who these people are, by use of speech and physical discription (ie like Eva's teeth). Also thanks to my mum who actually gave me the idea to "Have Aint Eaver be Cid's aunt" Only my mother would be so sadistic as to feed me such wonderful ideas, and only I would be so sick as to get where she was going with it, and be able to expand on such an idea. Thanks, mom. :) My apologies to Eva and Gene, who will hopefully never know this exists. .