Her expression grows more solemn as she listens to him... until he says he took the photograph from his dossier and claims Shin-Ra had no right to it.

When he says that, he just sounds like the best former Turk she can possibly imagine, and she couldn't agree more.

"There's a lot Shin-Ra has no right to."

She gives him a little nod, almost as if in solidarity, and takes the picture from him, curiosity in her eyes.

That's Vincent, all right. The front of his hair looks the same, but the rest of it is so much longer. And he's certainly dressed the part of a Turk. With suit and tie looking so neat, it makes her think a little of Rude and Tseng.

(Not Reno. He seems a lot more casual than that.)

His eyes are brown in the picture and not the red she's grown accustomed to. Somehow it seems fitting. Brown is the closest shade to what his eyes are like now, and it's really the only eye color she thinks she could've imagined him having.

Sometimes it's hard to think of Vincent as anything other than exactly what she's always known him as. It's an odd feeling to look the photograph over like this, knowing he's watching. She's surprised he shared it with her, but she's glad he did.

What makes it even more strange is the idea that the picture is at least thirty years old.

For all of the dramatic differences between the Vincent pictured and the Vincent standing here in her room, he doesn't look like he's aged at all. Even knowing all she knows about what happened to him, it's so strange to have this kind of evidence.

There's a little wonderment in her eyes when she looks up, but she smiles at him. "You look very distinguished."