"And pliers, here," Shera muttered to herself. "And screwdriver…screwdriver, where’d I put that? Thanks—" She stopped, noticing someone’s hand handing her the screwdriver. She turned around and examined the owner of the mysterious hand.
"Uh, I was going to ring that, but you seem to be fixing it at the moment," a short, scrawny man Shera had never seen before said. He looked innocuous enough, with dyed blonde hair that fell over his eyes slightly, and an attempt to look professional with his tie and vest. Shera was still a little bewildered. Rocket Town was small enough that everyone knew everyone else, yet this man was a complete stranger. "I’m new here. I was wondering if I could find Cid Highwind?"
"He’s out back," she answered. "Just around the house, he’s probably working on his plane again."
"Thanks," he said, and wandered off around the house.
Shera shrugged and went back to fixing the doorbell.
Cid was half-buried in his plane, which he’d gutted; parts were strewn everywhere on the lawn.
"Shera? You finished already?" Cid said, not moving from his work on the plane.
"No, sorry. My name’s Daren."
"Well, just don’t step on anything."
"I just wanted to stop by, if that’s alright with you."
"Whatever—fucking piece of—not you," Cid answered. "Am I supposed to remember you? I’m not really paying attention at the moment."
"I can see that. You haven’t looked at me the whole time. No, I just moved here. I noticed Rocket Town didn’t have a doctor around and I decided to make a niche for myself. Very nice town you got here."
"What’s a niche?"
"Its—never mind, its not important. I was wondering—you were in AVALANCHE, right?"
"I don’t do autographs, if that’s what you’re asking."
"No, I’m interested in another member, I was wondering if you could tell me about—"
"You want gossip, read the tabloids. Leave me alone, I’m trying to fix a plane here and some fucker stuck something together with gum. I swear to god, never buy used plane parts, no matter what. Never know where the fucking hell they’ve been."
"I’ll keep that in—no, I’m sorry, I was really interested in knowing about Mr. Vincent Valentine, if it’s not too much to ask."
Cid sat up so quickly he hit his head on the gutted plane.
"Uh, I can look at that if you want."
"Out!" Cid yelled, pointing to the path around the house.
"What?" Daren asked.
"You’re smart, you can figure it the hell out."
"But I—"
"I don’t care!" Cid yelled. "I hear one more mother fucking word outta you about him and I’ll put my spear up your ass."
"What’d I do?"
"Why the hell do you want to know about Vincent? He likes doctors as much as you’re gonna like me running you over with my plane."
"I just—I used to know him, that’s all. I heard he was back and—"
"Nice try. No one’s stupid enough to buy that. Now get out before I throw you out, and I can throw scrawny guys pretty damn far." Cid was almost distracted from almost killing the new doctor when he was suddenly unnerved by the man’s face. Cid couldn’t tell what worried him more, the fact that Daren’s face looked eerily familiar, or that fact that he couldn’t place it. Cid ignored the feeling and went back to yelling.
"I’m leaving, already, please!" Daren yelled, rounding the corner, and narrowly avoiding a flying wrench.
"I am suddenly understanding why Rocket Town is so small." Daren commented, mostly to himself, but Shera was within hearing range.
"He’s not much of a conversationalist. You weren’t trying to sell him something, were you?" she asked.
"No. I’m not mean. I mean, I don’t think I’m mean—Let me start over, that came out all—"
"Don’t ask him about Vincent."
"How did you know?"
"I’m not deaf, that’s all. It’s… a touchy subject."
"Is that a pun—no, never mind, I’ve pried into this too much already. I should really be… um… not to be too forward but… do you still need help with that doorbell?"