By Kristen Gupton-Williams

Vincent made his way out to the kitchen and sat with Tifa’s help. She then got to the task of making something for breakfast from the scant ingredients to be found in the cupboards. After some foraging she managed to come up with a box of pancake mix and got to the task of making enough for both the men and herself.

While she did this, Cid emerged from the nursery with the baby in his arms and got to making a bottle for the crying infant. Having to work around someone else in the kitchen was clearly annoying him in his already soured mood. Once the bottle was mixed, he landed on the opposite side of the table from Vincent and started the child’s feeding. It wasn’t much later that Tifa dropped plates onto the table before the men and started loading them with pancakes.

Cid was going to have to wait until the baby was done before eating, but still had to make a comment. "What, we supposed to eat these dry?"

Tifa turned from the griddle and placed her hands on her hips. "No thank you or anything? All you can do is complain that I haven’t gotten the syrup out quick enough for you? You’re terrible, Cid."

He just grimaced at her before turning his attention back to the infant. As much as he didn’t like being reprimanded by her, Cid knew that she was in no mood for his crap and so relented.

Vincent, deciding that he should probably get the needed things from the refrigerator himself slowly rose from his seat. Somewhat unsteadily he managed to the fridge and opened it with his stronger left arm. He searched its contents until coming up with both the butter and syrup. That was the one thing that was nice here at Cid’s; the butter was real butter, and the syrup was also the real deal, not that light tasteless garbage that had made its way into all the other kitchens of the world. With what he needed in hand, Vincent turned back and got to the table. He set the things down and then sat before preparing his pancakes.

Tifa looked over her shoulder and smiled. "See, at least Vincent isn’t helpless."

"Would have been if not for me, thank you very much." Cid scoffed back.

In a lapse of judgement, Vincent stuck his tongue out at the pilot once Tifa wasn’t looking again.

"You little fucker!" Cid growled, hurling the empty bottle at Vincent’s head.

Tifa turned around just in time to see Vincent pelted by the bottle. "Cid!"

He at once looked guilty as all get out. "Tifa, he was making a face!"

She turned the grill off and scooped up the last two pancakes from it, then bringing her own plate to the table. "Honestly, having the both is you is just like having real kids."

Cid rolled his eyes and got up. "I’m gonna go change the kid."

"Hurry up before your breakfast is ice cold." Tifa called after him.

"I can’t believe we went from screaming fest, to Chaos breakout, to family breakfast." Vincent commented between mouthfuls.

"Don’t even get me started on you." Tifa pointed her fork at him. "I saw you antagonize Cid into throwing that bottle at you."

"You weren’t even looking!" Vincent laughed, playing the innocent.

"Nice try, but I could see everything you two were doing in the reflection of the glass on the cabinet doors." Tifa replied, smiling coyly.

Vincent suddenly returned to his normal serious demeanor. "I just can’t understand how in the hell Chaos is back…"

Tifa shrugged. "I can’t imagine. I thought he was dead."

"So did I." Vincent sighed.

Cid came back into the room after having placed his son in the crib. "Looks like the kid decided to pass back out for the time being."

The three of them proceeded to eat in silence. Although the day was young, it already felt very long to them.

***

Tseng was standing on the bridge of the airship, looking over the helmsman’s shoulder as he steered the ship back toward Rocket. He was anxious to get back to Tifa and Vincent, fearing somehow that if he wasn’t around and Chaos came back the results would be fatal for at least one of them. By being on the bridge, he at least felt as though he was in some degree of control.

Quigley stepped onto the bridge, looking disheveled as usual. He made his way over to Tseng. "I think I got it."

Tseng cocked an eyebrow. "Let’s hear it."

"Okay." He sat down in an empty navigation seat. "It’s like this; have you ever been put on antibiotics?"

Not knowing exactly where this was headed, Tseng narrowed his eyes and decided to play along. "Of course."

"And have you ever quit taking those antibiotics before the doctor recommended?" Quigley ran a hand through his hair.

Medical compliance had never been one of Tseng’s strong points. Maybe it ran in the family. "Well, yes."

"And what happened?" Quigley was getting more excited.

"I got sick again." Tseng answered simply.

"Bingo." Quigley seemed quite self-satisfied. "Hojo dosed Mr. Valentine with enough of the anti-Chaos drug to destroy most of the demon’s DNA but a few isolated cells escaped unscathed."

"And it’s taken those cells all this time to reinfect my brother?" Tseng speculated.

"Exactly." Quigley leaned back in his chair. "So the trick is to retreat Mr. Valentine with that same chemical, but this time use enough to ensure its done right."

"What are the chances of some of the demon’s DNA getting transplanted into the new body?" Tseng asked.

"Well, theoretically, if we give him a long enough course of treatment we should be able to nail all of the infected cells." Quigley shrugged. "We’ll need to make sure that he is in fact clean before the procedure, since I’ve learned that the Chaos DNA is even able to invade the cells of the central nervous system, which is why the monster can control him."

Tseng nodded. "My next question is will you be able to replicate the drug?"

He smiled at his boss as he pulled out a CD from his pocket and held it up. "All the information for producing that chemical is on here."

"Whatever you do, don’t lose that." Tseng grinned back.