A Meeting of Minds

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Zack/Sephiroth, Cid/Vincent
Warnings: Idiots you may have encountered in your life.
Summary: Cid pwns a pre-school teacher.
Notes: Okay, done with the angst, back to what this little grey rat loves best. COMPLETE AND UTTER NONSENSE! Miss Angelina Waters is a composition of several people I have had encounters with during this Rat’s years as a young mother, and is NOT a reflection of my opinion of teachers as a whole. Many teachers are very good kind and caring people, such as my friend Dwarfy. Then there are the ones who don’t seem to realize that text books and children are two entirely different beasts.

Angelina Waters had a great deal of confidence in her ability to act as a caregiver and role model for the small children placed in her care. She had graduated the top of her class in everything she had ever tried her hand at, excelled in all things academic, and was most certain that her preschool alone could provide the children of Costa del Sol with the head start they deserved. And she had the degrees in child psychology to prove it. She knew what a parent should be, she knew how a child should behave, and she knew within her little heart of hearts that somewhere, someday, there would be a sainthood for her, or at the very least a large public ceremony honouring her and her years of wisdom and diligence in enlightening and broadening the minds of the children of Costa del Sol.

She of course had no idea what sorts of life-forms were currently haunting the area when she began admitting children. The Highwind twins had already been signed up for six weeks. Now that was a family in need of nurturing and understanding. In fact their father Cid was due in any moment for a meeting concerning his children.

Akira Fair-Valentine was the first child to arrive for registration that day; an adorable little tyke with an obvious case of separation anxiety. Clearly the child was very insecure. Probably frequently left alone and then encouraged in his behaviour by subliminal clues awarded by the parents. The father looked positively harried and exhausted. He was leading Akira by the hand and had two babies in a carrier, one roughly nine months older than the other. Obviously poor family planning on someone’s part, likely the mother in a rush to fulfill her maternal urges. Poor dear had probably squandered her youth and was now facing a childless menopause. When would some women learn? Still, she did her best to be gracious. After all, was she not here to help improve the lives of the less knowledgeable?

“And what is your name?” Angelina asked the child.

The little boy blinked back at her with huge green eyes. She noted with a start that the pupils were long and narrow, like a cat’s.

“This is Akira,” said the harried-looking man carrying the babies. “I’m Zack.”

“Well hello Akira! And who do we have in the basket?”

Angelina turned to look at the babies, and was further disturbed to notice the babies also had the same green feline eyes, and were both pale as new snow. She looked up at Zack. His eyes were a soft blue, with the standard round pupil. Clearly the mother was the one with the strange malady and had passed her disorder down to her children. Amazing what some people would choose to breed with. Still it was her job to make children comfortable with their disfigurements. She returned her gaze to Akira.

“Well what lovely green eyes you have!”

“Just like mom’s,” said Zack.

“And where is Mrs. Fair?” asked Angelina.

Zack blinked at her. “Mrs. Fair? You mean my mom?”

“No I mean Akira’s mother.”

“Oh! Asleep. Faelan and Sephira keep us pretty busy at night. Mom does the night shift, I do the day.”

“They’re not both sleeping through the night?”

“Well Sephira is only three weeks old and our life has been disrupted somewhat so the kids are acting up a bit.”

“I see.” She mentally noted that the family was dysfunctional and Akira was likely suffering emotional trauma brought about by careless breeding and neglect. That was fine. She could mend this broken family.

“Zack! What ya doing here?”

Angelina was horrified to notice the man entering her pristine pre-school had nothing less than a cigarette in his mouth. Unlit, but that was hardly the point. Still there was no denying Cid Highwind had a certain Neanderthal charm to him. He was a large man; broad shouldered, square-jawed, powerfully built. He was dressed in jeans, work-boots, and an old leather flight jacket. He had on a pair of aviator goggles that not only kept his unruly and badly cut hair back; they served as a place to keep his pack of cigarettes. His large hands were scarred, and had cuts across the knuckles. A sure sign that he was violent. Probably abusive too. She had asked Cid to come in to speak with her about some matters she found most disturbing. Matters regarding his twin sons Benji and Aiden, each of whom were wrapped around one of his legs, small butts on his boots. Cid walked as it they weren’t even there.

“Registering Akira for pre-school,” said Zack. “Thought it might be good for him to meet kids his own age.”

Angelina decided to interject herself into the conversation, extending a hand to Cid.

“I’m so glad you came, Mr. Highwind.” Angelina looked around, and asked delicately; “Could Mrs. Highwind not make it?”

Cid blinked at her, confused. “Mrs. Highwind? Who the fuck is Mrs. Highwind? You mean my mom?”

Was that a standard joke with this crowd? No he must be a single parent. Ah that explained so very much. A lone male, and likely not a very sensitive male, either, struggling with two small boys. It was probably the reason for so much of the odd behaviour Benji and Aiden exhibited. And Benji especially was such a sensitive boy. Aiden… well… the child was clearly disturbed. Certainly Cid Highwind did not meet Angelina’s vision of ‘parenting material’.

“You’re not married?” asked Angelina.

“I’m married,” came the curt reply as Akira wrapped his arms around Cid’s knee.

“Cid!”

“Hey short-stuff!” said Cid, and bent down to pick the child up as Benji detached himself from Cid’s leg to go look at something. A.D.D., clearly. “Being good for daddy?”

“No!”

“Driving Uncle Cloud and Auntie Reno nuts?”

“Yes!”

“Making sure to pick your nose and wipe it under the sofa?”

“Uh-huh.”

“All right, keep it up then.”

Zack gave Cid a jaundiced look. “Can you please not teach my child any more bad habits?”

“What? I’m encouraging creativity.” Cid set Akira down, who promptly toddled off to play with Benji. Aiden held tight to the work boot as Cid reached out to put a hand on Zack’s shoulder. “How ya holding up there, Zackie?”

Zack managed a smile. “Good. Still a bit rattled, but good. Baby has stopped growing wings every time I get a little harried.”

“Zack I saw you that night. Baby has every right to grow wings and worry. You were a mess. You had us worried sick. C’mere ya freaky-haired shit.”

Cid gave Zack a gentle and affectionate hug. Angelina noted this, trying to make the warm gesture mesh with her current interpretation of Cid Highwind. Before she could reach any conclusions, Benji ran over to his father, grabbing hold of his pant leg, drawing his attention. Benji had used glue to make his hair stand up and coated it liberally with gold, green, pink, red, and silver glitter.

“I’m pretty!” he announced.

“Yeah I see that,” said Cid. “Why don’t ya do Miss Pinky to match?”

“Okay!”

Cid watched the child, easily large enough to pass as a five-year-old, head for a teddy bear he had brought with him; one Angelina had thought must belong to a sister. Clearly the boundaries of the other children in the house were not being respected.

“Miss Pinky is Benji’s bear?” asked Angelina, using her ‘it’s-okay-I’m-not-judging-you’ voice.

“Yeah,” said Cid, watching his son. “Survived the sex-change operation rather well I thought. Started off as a boy bear in a little mechanic’s suit. Benji ripped that off in about two seconds and had it in a pink fairy dress and tiara. Named it Miss Pinky. Kid’s gay.”

Angelina was horrified at the matter of fact way he said it. “Mr. Highwind he’s not even four yet, don’t you think you are rushing to judgement?”

Cid slowly swung his head to look at her. Meanwhile in the background, Benji picked up his bear and began to dance, singing.

“Ah feewl pwetty! Ah so pwetty! I feewl pwetty, an’ witty, an’ GAY!”

“I rest my case,” said Cid. “Just hope he ain’t a drag queen.”

“And what would be wrong with that?” asked Angelina.

“Oh come on, the kid’s gonna be six foot something and probably three hundred pounds. Where the fuck is he gonna find pumps his size?”

“Aeris could make him some,” said Zack. “Hey, she made all my maternity clothes.”

“Is that where you got those! That was some cool shit.”

Angelina delicately cleared her throat in that practiced ‘all-eyes-on-me-please’ manner. “But you are not bothered by his choice of sexual orientation? By that I mean whether he wants to be gay or straight.”

Cid and Zack exchanged glances. Zack just grinned with a ‘this-is-gonna-be-good’ expression on his face as Cid turned to face her.

“First off, little Miss Trying-Ever-So-Hard-To-Use-Words-The-Dumb-Brute-Comprehends, it ain’t a choice. Let’s just forget that shit right there. Second, my kids can be anything they want and the first person who tells them they can’t do something will get a personal visit from yours truly. Third. My IQ stands at 159. You can use big words like ‘sexual orientation'. You can even use words like ‘mildly condescending’, ‘judgemental’, and ‘preconceived notions’.”

Zack grinned broadly, trying hard to suppress a giggle. Angelina felt her face turn purple.

“I wasn’t aware that…”

“I was smart enough to catch this shit?”

She blushed harder. “That is not what I meant!”

“Yeah it is. You were going to phrase it differently but that’s what you meant. So why did you call me in here? I mean other than to label and categorize Benji and Aiden’s father and put him into a neat little folder so that you can use my behaviour as an excuse for any future shit the kids get up to?”

Angelina was getting angry and flustered. “I called you in because I am deeply concerned about Aiden.”

Aiden held fast to his daddy’s leg, clearly quite content there. Zack wandered over to where Benji and Akira were decorating Miss Pinky’s tiara with sparkles. Cid just stared at Angelina, eyes narrowed.

“Oh yeah. Why?”

“Well he has been drawing some very disturbing images and I thought you should be made aware. I think the child needs therapy.”

“Therapy?! He’s three!”

“Well he seems to be expressing some very dark emotions.”

She walked towards her desk, sitting down and taking a folder out of the drawer. Cid walked over to the desk as well, taking a seat, Aiden firmly in place. Angelina selected a picture from the folder.

“Some of these drawings are… very dark. Almost nightmarish. You really should have a look at them. For instance, this one of what I can only surmise is a demon with an erection…”

Cid looked at the picture, and burst out laughing. “That’s Reno!”

“Reno?”

“Yeah he’s a friend of a friend. Aiden did a pretty good job! Got the hair, the mismatched eyes…”

“What about the strange glowing phallic thing?”

“Phallic thing?! Lady you gotta get your brain out of the gutter. It’s a rod. It’s a weapon, he fights with it. Packs a hell of an electrical jolt. He practices his fighting skills in the yard; we can see him from our house. Hey Aiden’s pretty good!”

“Well what about this?” She handed Cid another picture. “Plainly this is a manifestation of repressed anger that he…”

“Repressed anger my ass. That’s Nanaki. He’s a big red… something. Like a dog. Look, see the mane? The glowing tail? Must be a bitch to be him. Smart as a human but lacking opposable thumbs.”

“So… the monster with the phallus is actually your friend Reno, and the red burning demon is in fact a dog.”

“Sort of a dog. Yeah.”

Angelina was beginning to have the feeling that she was not in control of the situation. She did not care for it. She stared at Cid for a minute, as if taking all this in. Finally she pulled out the last picture, the one that would clearly prove her point; that Aiden was disturbed and abused.

“And what of THIS? You can’t tell me that this nightmarish being is…”

Cid melted. “Awwww…. Aiden drew his mommy! Ain’t that just cuter than a basket full of kittens?”

“Mommy?! Mr. Highwind, that thing has claws and red glowing eyes, you can’t possibly…”

Cid reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet, opening it. From the wallet he withdrew a newspaper clipping and a photograph. He handed them to Angelina.

“That’s us.”

She picked up the clipping, and read the article, eyes becoming large. She looked from the article, to Cid, and back again.

“This is you! I confess I thought the name looked familiar but…”

“It’s us.”

“I thought this was just tabloid nonsense.”

“Then you haven’t lived here very long. The Costa del Sol Herald does not print tabloid nonsense.”

Angelina read the article, then next looked at the photo. It was one of Cid’s favourites; a photo that Tifa had managed to snap back when they were still travelling. It was Vincent, eyeing the camera nervously. He had gone off hunting, and come back with nothing less than six wild geese. Tifa had managed to convince him to pose with his kill, though how she had done it was beyond Cid. Vincent was camera-shy at the best of times, and they had only known him a few days at this point. It was Vincent in all his glory; skinny, wraith-like, wrapped in that tattered cloak, shoes and gauntlet in place, and Cerberus on his hip. His eyes shone like flaming rubies in the soft orange glow of a sunset, and there was the faintest hint of a shy smile was on his face. It was a photo that never failed to reduce Cid to a melted puddle of love-struck engine grease. He had a large framed copy on the wall at home.

“This is mom?” asked Angelina.

“That is mom.”

“I… I’m astonished at how much Aiden resembles him! What… what purpose does the metal device on his arm serve?”

“Well it’s a weapon but it’s also a prosthesis. Helps make the limb functional.”

“He’s so thin! Why is he so skinny?”

Cid was blunt. “Well because he’s been tortured and physically altered to a radical degree and has alien life forms imbedded into his being. That’s how he managed to get pregnant. That’s why his eyes are red. That’s why he dresses from the neck down. He’s scarred. You know it’s very easy to look at him and jump to conclusions. I know I did when I first saw him. But he is the kindest, most gentle and beautiful human being I have ever been blessed to know, and I couldn’t have picked a better mother for those kids if I had tried.”

Angelina gazed at the picture of the shy, pretty man. Finally she asked the question most people wanted to know.

“How did you manage to get a man pregnant?”

“Two bottles of Chianti, some extra virgin olive oil and ‘Mambo Sun’ by T. Rex on endless replay.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That would do it. Any plans on expanding the family?”

“We have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon. He’s been real lethargic lately and with Vincent that’s always the first sign he’s got a bun in his oven. Think it might be the little girl we wanted. But after a false pregnancy and a miscarriage we have to be careful. We spent a year building his health up, making sure his diet was right, all that stuff. He’s not young; we have to keep birth defects in mind. I mean that’s why he lost the last one; baby was developing without a cranium. So no playing in the hangar, no smoking in the house, much as I hate it, I mean I built the fuckin’ thing, but we can’t risk it. So no smoking, no drinking, no junk food, no airship fumes, no stress. Well not counting the wedding and the moose.”

“Excuse me… moose?”

“Long story, that.” He stared at her with eyes that suggested somewhere inside his being was a rabid pit-bull looking for an excuse to hurt her. “So is that it? Are you content that I’m not torturing my kids and beating my husband?”

“I never…”

“You know people like you really grind my ass. You go to school, you live in a little fuckin’ ivory tower, then you descend from it like some tight-assed angel of mercy here to teach us dumb slobs to raise our kids. So Vincent and I aren’t average people. So my son-in-law over there, Zack, has a few bats in his belfry. So their mother is a seven foot war hero who can grow wings on command and once levelled Shinra Tower. We’re still good people.”

“I beg your pardon… seven foot war hero…? With… wings…?”

“Yeah.”

Angelina pulled a drawing out of Aiden’s folder. “Like this?”

Cid looked at the picture, and grinned. “Yeah that’s Baby all right. Black wings and all.”

“That’s… Sephiroth.”

“That it is.”

“He’s a friend of yours?”

“He’s my stepson.”

“So the two babies in the basket and Akira…”

“Call the deadliest warrior this planet has ever seen ‘mommy’, yes they do. You might want to be careful about calling him on the carpet about how his kids are emotionally disturbed. He tends to over-react. You’ve probably seen one or two of his over-reactions on the news.” Cid looked down at the drawing he held. “Hey Aiden’s good at this, I should talk his mother into getting him art lessons. We already have Benji enrolled in dance.” Cid looked down at the tiny child wrapped around his boot. “Wanna be an artist, Aiden?”

“No,” he pouted.

“Tired, buddy?”

Aiden nodded and yawned, rubbing at his face with the back of one little hand.

“C’mon, then. We’ll wait outside for Zackie to get cousin Akira registered.” Cid looked at Angelina. “Unless you have some other crackpot theories you’d like to toss my way.”

“My theories are not crackpot! I saw some images I considered disturbing and…”

“And it never once occurred to you to ask the kid about it, did it?” Cid showed Aiden the drawing. “Who’s that?”

“Baby!”

“And who is Baby?”

“Big bwother.”

“Right, he’s your big brother. Why does he have wings?”

“’Cause doctor gave them to him.”

“Close enough. And who is this?”

“Mommy!”

“And this?”

“Naki!”

“And this?”

“Auntie Weno.”

“Auntie Weno, that’s right. I like that; I think I will start calling him that.”

Angelina cleared her throat. “I saw something that disturbed me and I looked into it.”

“Yeah, well, next time you see a kid drawing something that bothers you, talk to the kid first.”

“I felt that my years of studying psychology gave me a certain insight into…”

Cid held up the picture of Reno. “You thought this was a demon with a hard-on. Lady that says way more to me about you than it ever could about my kid. Let me guess, you subscribe to a more Jungian philosophy than Freudian, right? Crap, both of them. Buncha wankers. Look, take my advice; use those books for rolling papers.”

Cid stood up, taking Aiden’s drawings with him, Aiden still firmly in place on Cid’s boot.

“Zack, come on, we’re leaving. We’ll take the kids to that daycare near the beach, the one that teaches the kids to make sandcastles and has the little boat in the shallow pool for them to play with. I don’t think I like the idea of my sons being analyzed by some chick who fantasizes about my babies getting molested by demons.”

“Molested by demons?!” Zack gave Angelina a sidelong look, clearly horrified. “Lady you are sick!”

Zack scooped up his infants and Akira, following Cid out the door, Benji close behind, clutching Miss Pinky. Angelina watched them go, and sighed heavily.

Maybe she could start a library.