Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Bishies & Buster Swords ❯ Enlightened ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or situations depicted in Advent Children; Square Enix has that distinct pleasure.

 

A/N: This fic is set after the final scene of Advent Children, when the victory party at 7th Heaven has lurched its way to a finish long after Barret's bedtime. Influenced by ValentineNinja's fic on a similar theme, A New Promise.

 

Bouquets to my lovely betas, Ranuel and SilverOnTheRose.

 

Warnings: Coarse language and WAFF.

 

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Enlightened

 

Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф

 

“Will it be financially viable?”

 

The big man being questioned ran his hand over the neat rows of his tightly-braided hair. “I'm just a prospector,” he demurred.

 

“A very good prospector, from all I've heard.”

 

Barret inclined his head in acknowledgement. “The reports I've had back from the surveyors say it might be the biggest oil field on Gaia.”

 

The dark-haired man with the neatly trimmed beard looked into his almost-empty glass for a long moment before swirling the amber liquid and taking a sip. “The WRO has a strong interest in developing other energy sources for the benefit of the Planet. Send me a prospectus on your venture, and I'll have my people analyze the data.” Smiling genially, Reeve added, “We will more than likely be interested in purchasing a stake in your company.”

 

“After what you did for my Marlene, it'd be an honour to do business with you.”

 

“The pleasure is mine.” The two men shook hands, then turned their attentions to the other members of their party. Crimson eyes briefly smouldered over the high buckled collar of his cloak before Vincent again fixed his impassive gaze on the door leading into the 7th Heaven's kitchen. The metal joints of his gauntlet clicked softly as he flexed his fingers on his leather-clad knee, the only outward sign of impatience. The fourth man's chair was precariously rocked back on its two rear legs as he apparently keenly appraised the label artwork on his beer bottle, but closer inspection revealed that his eyes were closed, his chin resting on his chest.

 

Exchanging amused glances with Reeve, Barret reached under the table and yanked on the chair leg, bringing it and its dozing occupant upright with a thump. “Whaddya think about Reeve's offer, Cloud?” he jovially asked, while Vincent adroitly rescued the sloshing bottle and set it on the table.

 

Blinking owlishly, the blond swordsman rubbed the back of his neck. “Dunno, Barret. You were talking about rock striking or something?”

 

“Rock strata, Spiky. The wrong kind can really fuck up your drilling schedule.”

 

“I'll take your word for it.” Stretching his arms up over his head, Cloud glanced around the bar, empty except for themselves and Reeve's bodyguards at the table next to the door. “The place finally cleared out, huh? Where's Cid?”

 

“Your profane pilot friend was last seen rolling out the door an hour or so ago in company with an equally inebriated Reno,” Reeve said. “Something about an airship versus helicopter agility contest tomorrow morning.”

 

“Oh, shit. Let's hope they sober up first.”

 

Barret chuckled, pouring another round of liquor for Reeve and himself. “No worries; Cait Sith, Nanaki and Rude are chaperoning.”

 

“Thank goodness that's over!” announced a shrill female voice. “Of course, it would've gone much faster if the sexist males cluttering up the place had helped!”

 

The `sexist males' in question all shiftily dodged eye contact with Yuffie as the ninja fisted her hands on her hips and glared ferociously… all except Vincent, who merely gave the young woman a steady look before contemplating the middle distance.

 

“G'night, Daddy!” Marlene skipped across the room towards their table.

 

“Goodnight, princess,” Barret rumbled, hugging his adopted daughter. Registering the time, he asked in consternation, “You kids are just going to bed now?”

 

“We were helping Tifa!” Marlene brightly informed him. “There were lots and lots and lots of dishes to wash tonight!”

 

While Cloud flushed guiltily, Barret quickly asked, “Marlene, do you remember Mr. Tuesti?”

 

Clear eyes searched the man's lean features. “You helped me and Elmyra, right?”

 

“I did.”

 

Bobbing a bow in Reeve's direction, the little girl chirped, “Thank you!”

 

“Time for bed,” Tifa called.

 

“Good night, everyone!” Marlene gave a startled Vincent a quick hug before scampering back through the tables, only to be scooped up and spun around by Yuffie. Giggling, she took over prodding Denzel up the stairs to the private quarters and freed Tifa's hands.

 

“Thanks for all your help today, Yuffie and Vincent… good night, Reeve,” the slender young woman said, smiling tiredly at each of them in turn, then added, “Can you lock up, Barret?” while avoiding looking at Cloud.

 

“You betcha, missy. G'night.”

 

“I'm outta here,” Yuffie announced. “Please tell me you're not opening the bar tomorrow, Tifa.”

 

“Well….”

 

The teenager shook her finger under the other girl's nose. “Don't even think about it. Give yourself a day off, for Shiva's sake, and find some Restore materia for those bruises.”

 

“All right.” Patting Yuffie's shoulder, Tifa inclined her head to everyone else. “Good night.”

 

“Speaking of materia… where's mine?” Cloud asked casually enough, but his gaze was fastened on Tifa as she crossed the room, a noticeable hitch in her usually graceful stride.

 

Yuffie tossed her head and huffed, “Why doesn't anyone trust me?”

 

“Absolutely no idea,” Vincent rumbled. Amid the chorus of snickers, he swept aside his cloak and revealed the sturdy metal crate stashed under his chair. Catching Reeve's eye, he continued, “I will speak with you tomorrow regarding your offer. I must think on it.”

 

“Take as much time as you like, Vincent.” As the tall gunslinger rose to his feet, Reeve beckoned to Yuffie and handed her a business card. “The WRO needs someone with your unique talents, Miss Kisaragi. Please give me a call if you might be interested.”

 

Plucking the card from his fingers, Yuffie quickly scanned the information before tucking it into the pocket of her shorts. “Would I have to work with him?” she suddenly asked, jerking her head towards Vincent, whose eyes might have widened a fraction.

 

“Not necessarily,” Reeve hastily answered, aware that he might lose two prospects.

 

“I must think on it,” the teenager said, mimicking Vincent's sepulchral tones, then winked. “I'll be here tomorrow at noon, sharp, and we're all going out for lunch together. Nanaki promised to bring Cid back even if he had to lug him all the way from the heliport.”

 

“That'd be a change from carrying Cait Sith,” Barret remarked.

 

“Quieter,” muttered Vincent.

 

Yuffie snorted, then crooked a finger at the red-cloaked man. “C'mon, Vinnie. You can intimidate the local nightlife on the way to the inn.”

 

This time he didn't manage to fully hide his surprise. “Inn?”

 

“As soon as Cid started bragging about the Shera to that red-haired twit, I made some phone calls. Laters!” she said breezily, towing a bemused Vincent out the door in her wake.

 

Cloud made a show of stretching and stood up. “If you two don't mind, I think I'll turn in.”

 

“Helluva day,” Barret said, clapping the younger man on the back. “Ya done good, Spiky.”

 

Reeve lifted his glass in salute. “The Planet is again indebted to you, Cloud Strife.”

 

Scuffing his boots on the floorboards, the swordsman replied, “Yeah, well… hopefully this time is the last. Dying blows, y'know?” Heaving the chest of materia onto his shoulder and heading across the room, he paused beside the bar. “Give me a shout if you need anything delivered, Reeve.”

 

“Special rates for an old friend?”

 

White teeth flashed. “For you… how about double?”

 

Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф

 

Stowing the crate under the desk, Cloud listened to Tifa gently chivvying the children in the room at the head of the short flight of stairs opposite to his office-slash-bedroom door. Denzel was cranky, sounding very much like someone who had reached his limit and gone past it by a couple of miles. Stripping off his gloves, Cloud dropped them on the desk and left his boots next to the chair, then padded up the stairs and into the bedroom, interrupting a tired whine from the boy. “C'mon, Denzel,” he quietly ordered, holding out his hand. “You can brush your teeth while Marlene gets changed.”

 

For a moment, the boy looked like he might argue, but then slid off the bed and took two steps before stumbling over his own feet. Cloud caught him before he fell and hoisted him into his arms. Denzel made a snuffling noise and rubbed his face on the swordsman's sweater, much too tired to protest that he was too big to be carried. Down the hall in the bath, Cloud drew the line at brushing Denzel's teeth for him, but did wash the child's face. Marvelling again at how easily and thoroughly the Geostigma had been cured, he said a silent thanks to Aerith.

 

“Why're you smiling?” Denzel asked.

 

“I was thinking about the lady who healed us,” he said, hanging up the cloth.

 

“The same one who sent you back?”

 

When Cloud nodded, the boy confided, “Before you showed up, Tifa was all cryin' an' stuff. She said she wasn't, but her eyes were wet an' Yuffie kept huggin' her.” Denzel tapped the metal nose of the wolf's head decorating Cloud's pauldron. “Are you going to stay?” he hesitantly asked.

 

The man rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. “Yes.”

 

“Good. Then maybe Tifa will smile again, because she's been sad ever since you left,” Denzel said, drowsily rubbing his eyes. When Cloud picked him up, the boy snuggled close and dozed off in the brief time it took to walk the ten steps down the hallway. He woke up enough to struggle out of his clothes and into his pyjamas while Marlene and Tifa slipped out to take their turn in the bathroom.

 

Cloud tucked in the covers after the boy flopped into bed, then seated himself next to the child. “You were really brave today,” he said quietly. “Going after Bahamut like that.”

 

“Couldn't let `im hurt Tifa,” Denzel mumbled, nestling into his pillow. As an afterthought, he added, “His breath was gross.” A few moments later, he sighed once before his breathing evened out.

 

Marlene tiptoed into the room, checked to make sure Denzel was asleep, then pounced on Cloud. “I'm so glad that you came back,” she whispered, squeezing him tightly. “I would have been really sad if you didn't.”

 

Returning the little girl's affectionate embrace, Cloud said, “Thanks for giving me heck, squirt. I deserved it.”

 

She giggled softly. “You sure did!” Rambunctiously squishing him again, she slipped out of Cloud's arms and scrambled under her blankets. Fingering the edge of the quilt, Marlene softly asked, “You're staying, right?”

 

“Yes.” Ruffling her bangs, the swordsman smiled before turning out the light. He moved to join Tifa in the doorway, but the young woman was already gone; her door clicked shut further down the hallway.

 

“Cloud…?” Marlene called from inside the darkened room. “I think Tifa needs a hug, too.”

 

He acknowledged the suggestion with a wave, then shut the panel. Standing in the hallway, Cloud contemplated the slice of light from under Tifa's door and thought for a few moments before retreating down the stairs. Crossing to his desk, he retrieved the case of materia and opened it, rummaging through the glowing globes until he found what he wanted and slid it into his pocket. Bounding lightly up the stairs, he stood outside her room and listened carefully before rapping on the doorframe.

 

“Who is it?”

 

“Me.” He opened the door with the full intention of staying where he was... until he saw the bruises marring her pale skin and crossed the room in two strides. Tifa spun towards the invader, clutching her discarded top to her chest, her eyes going even wider when Cloud grasped her arm to hold her in place. Taking in all the dark mottling previously hidden by her clothing, he asked tersely, “Why didn't you ask for help earlier?”

 

“Too busy,” Tifa replied curtly, her voice as tight as her stance. “I've been hurt worse.”

 

Cloud winced at the edge in her voice as he moved around in front of her and knelt, bracing the back of her knee with one hand as he carefully probed the joint with the other. When she inhaled sharply in response to pressure on a sore point, he stood up and reached into his pocket. Producing the materia, he wordlessly offered his assistance.

 

Eyeing askance the hand holding the softly-lit sphere, Tifa mumbled, “I can do it myself.”

 

“You're already exhausted,” Cloud pointed out. When she looked away, he lightly touched her shoulder. “Let me help... please.” She finally looked him in the eye, and he was rocked by the profound mixture of sorrow and hope he found in her dark gaze. Bowing his head, Cloud hoarsely muttered, “I'm sorry.”

 

“For what?” she quietly asked, her tone carefully neutral.

 

“For hurting you… and our family.” Again offering the materia, he waited until she gave reluctant assent before equipping it and healing her injuries. After repairing the damage to her knee, he asked, “Anywhere else?” Tifa lifted the fabric hanging below her breasts to reveal a dark, spreading bruise on her ribs.

 

“Punched through a stone column,” she supplied, in answer to his appalled look.

 

“Dammit. I'm sorry I was late.”

 

Slim fingers briefly rested on his bicep, right over where the worst of the Geostigma had attacked his body. “We all had battles to fight today.”

 

Pressing the healing energy against her injury and watching it fade away, Cloud shook his head. “Fighting even one of the Remnants was like going up against Sephiroth himself. You could've been killed.”

 

“No wonder I lost; I'm now zero-for-two where he's concerned,” Tifa dryly observed.

 

“Hope you're not thinking about a rematch.” Dropping the materia into his pocket, Cloud stepped back, holding her wary gaze. Despite the hopeful sign that his wolf's-head ring continued to gleam on Tifa's finger, the fear of rejection roughened his voice. “Will you give me another chance?” he rasped.

 

After a long pause that took several years off his life, Tifa reached for his hand and slowly laced her fingers with his. “I can't give up on you now.”

 

Cloud stooped, resting his forehead on her bare shoulder. “Thank you.” Soaking up Tifa's warmth, he wondered again how he could have given her up in favour of lonely nights on the hard floor of the derelict church, no matter how deep his personal darkness. “I need to be near you,” he whispered. Acknowledging the long gap in their intimacy when he had withdrawn to hide both the stigma and his deepening despair, he added, “If I bring my own blanket… can I stay?”

 

“Yes.” Raising her hand to his lips, Cloud kissed her knuckles in thanks before releasing his grip and moving away. “Close the door behind you,” Tifa requested. “Barret doesn't need a free show.”

 

“He's still downstairs being sweet-talked by Reeve.” Cloud did as Tifa asked anyways, before briefly slumping against the wall of the empty corridor, almost weak-kneed with relief. Wiping his hand over his face, he straightened up, then cleared the short flight of steps in one jump and entered his room.

 

Tossing the materia back into the chest, he noted that all his bedding had been recently washed and neatly folded on the foot of the cot, as if awaiting his return. Saying a silent thanks to the Planet for Tifa's faith in him, he unbuckled his gear and left it in a neat pile before collecting a pillow and blanket. After a quick pit-stop in the bathroom, Cloud again found himself tapping on Tifa's door, but this time he waited for her quiet invitation before entering.

 

She was seated on the far side of her narrow bed, bundled up in a quilt, watching him with those dark, expressive eyes as he crossed the room. Tossing the pillow next to hers, Cloud shook out his blanket. Folding it in half, he arranged it on the mattress and then shrugged out of his sweater. Tifa held out her hand. “Give it,” she ordered. When he obliged, she added, “Turn around.”

 

Wondering, he obeyed while divesting himself of his trousers and socks. Shivering lightly in the room's chill, he waited until she said, “Okay,” turning in time to see her slide beneath her folded quilt… apparently naked except for a familiar sweater that looked incredibly attractive clinging to her generous curves.

 

“You sure about wearing that? Isn't it kinda ripe?” Cloud commented as he tucked himself into his own blanket, secretly rather pleased with Tifa's choice of sleep attire while simultaneously pouting over how high the neckline was zipped.

 

Tifa sniffed the collar. “Aerith must have deodorized you before she sent you back.” After they'd settled into their respective bedding, they had a small moment of mutual awkwardness until she hesitantly traced the new marks of battle on his shoulder and chest. “I agreed with Vincent when he said you could handle that Remnant alone, but when Sephiroth appeared, I had an absolute fit. I'm surprised that you didn't hear Yuffie screaming at Cid to let us off to help.”

 

“I was sorta busy staying alive.”

 

Biting her lip, Tifa mumbled, “But it a-almost… wasn't enough.”

 

“Key word there being `almost',” Cloud answered, boldly tucking her hair behind her ear.

 

“Wh-when you disappeared inside that fireball, I-I... my heart j-just stopped….”

 

“Mine, too.” The swordsman abandoned all pretence of keeping a polite distance and pulled the young woman into his arms. Tifa struggled to hold back the tears but lost the effort when Cloud tightened his embrace, whispering sincere promises. Continuing his gentle reassurances even after her trembling stopped, he noted, “They kicked me out, you know.”

 

“K-kicked you out? Who?” Tifa asked, smearing impatiently at her damp cheeks.

 

“Aerith and Zack.”

 

“From the Lifestream?”

 

“Yeah.” Cloud chuckled quietly, remembering the deceased couple's amused banter. “They looked really happy when I saw them at the church.”

 

“You saw them?” she asked sceptically.

 

“I didn't hit my head or anything, I swear.” Brushing his fingertips over Tifa's cheek, he added, “Aerith was right; everything's all right because I'm not alone.”

 

“You never were.”

 

Closing his eyes for a moment, Cloud replied, “I know.” Opening them again, he gazed at Tifa for so long that she flushed and found his chin highly interesting, at least until he lightly kissed her forehead. “I could have lost everything that I cherish.” Smiling quietly at her stunned expression, he reached to turn out the light.

 

In the darkness, her head came to rest on his shoulder and her hand over his heart. Covering her smaller hand with his own and pressing lightly, Cloud indulged himself with another chaste kiss to her forehead. Tifa snuggled closer, her knit-covered breasts pressing against his side where the bedding had been pushed down; the cold metal zipper sent brief chills rippling across his bare skin. After a long moment of comfortable silence, Tifa whispered, “Welcome home.”

 

Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф

 

Early the next morning, a sliver of something uncomfortably bright worked its way under Cloud's eyelids and jabbed repeatedly until he flinched. Twisting his head away, he grumbled an oath that Cid would've been proud of before cautiously squinting at the window. “Tifa… wake up!”

 

“Mmmrph…?” The young woman turned her face into his chest.

 

Lightly tickling the tender skin bared by the armhole of his sweater, he insisted, “You have to see this!”

 

“Wha' izzit?”

 

“Something that hasn't been seen over Edge - or Midgar - for years.” Blinking muzzily, Tifa's eyes widened at the boyish grin worn by the usually taciturn swordsman. Before she could comment, Cloud urged, “Have a look.”

 

Unwilling rolling over, Tifa had her second surprise within as many minutes when she realized it was sunshine flooding the bedroom, and that there was bright blue sky framed by the casement. A fluffy white cloud decorated one corner of the view. “Wow!”

 

“Isn't it great?” Cloud murmured, his breath puffing over her ear and causing pleasant shivers to trickle down her spine.

 

Tifa turned back to face him. “A new beginning.”

 

His intense blue eyes softening, he agreed. “Looks like it.” Feathering her tresses through his fingers, watching the light play through the gleaming strands, Cloud said, “I remember once, in Nibelheim... the sun was shining on your hair and I thought to myself, `that's the prettiest girl on the whole Planet.'”

 

Tifa blushed, but her tone was serious. “After you left, I missed you so much. You'd always been there... and suddenly, you weren't.”

 

“You're not just talking about when we were kids, are you?” When she shook her head, he caressed her cheek. “I'm staying this time, Tifa. I promise.” He moved to kiss her, to seal the pact, but instead he waited to see if she wanted the contact… wanted him.

 

The young woman understood, because she closed the short distance between them to sweetly press her mouth to his. Their first kiss was quickly followed by another and another, until they were fitting themselves as close together as possible through the layers of blankets. Tifa gave herself up to the comforts of being once again in Cloud's embrace, sliding her arms around him to hold on just as tight.

 

Niggling unhappiness reminded her of that long-ago night under the Highwind, when they had been clumsy and desperate, as well as the few intimate encounters they'd shared in this very room before the marks of Geostigma must have appeared on his body. Determined to stay in the moment, Tifa banished the disquiet by concentrating instead on Cloud's ardent response to her touch. His hands moved sensuously but respectfully over her curves; when she allowed him entrance to her mouth, he took his time exploring before inviting her to return the favour, then made soft noises of encouragement when she accepted.

 

When he began kissing a line across her cheek, Tifa turned her head, encouraging him to investigate the fragile skin below her ear. Cloud laid a path of tiny licks and nibbles down the side of her neck until he was stopped by the collar of his sweater. Taking hold of the metal fob, he watched carefully for any sign of unease as he slowly drew down the zipper. She remained relaxed, nuzzling his throat while smoothing her hands over his back.

 

Halting the zipper's descent just below her breasts, he stroked the backs of his fingers over her newly-bared skin. A delicate flush spread from her cheeks down over her chest, giving her silky flesh an alluring tint, Tifa peering bashfully through her lashes. Cloud softly kissed her mouth, then lingered over the delicate notch at the base of her throat until her breathing became irregular, before venturing into the warm valley between her breasts.

 

“Tifa! Tifa! Cloud's gone... oh.” Denzel nearly bowled Marlene over as the two children came to a dead stop halfway into the room, their eyes wide. The swordsman huffed against the young woman's cleavage before rolling onto his back and treating the interlopers to a dark glare, while his blushing bedfellow hastily covered up. Marlene scowled and marched over to the bed. “You scared us, Cloud! That wasn't very nice!”

 

“Next time I'll leave a note on my door,” he drawled.

 

The little girl scampered around the foot of the mattress and climbed on, snuggling up to Tifa. “We never gave him that lecture,” she grumbled, giving Cloud a meaningful look.

 

The swordsman arched his pale brows. “The scolding you gave me yesterday in front of Vincent doesn't count? That hardly seems fair, squirt.”

 

“That's `princess' to you, Spiky,” she replied, her nose in the air. “I guess we'll let you off this time.”

 

Cloud shook his head in mock exasperation and beckoned to Denzel, who was still fidgeting where he stood. “Give me a hand here? I'm outnumbered.” Breaking out into a bright smile, the boy quickly joined the impromptu party, shyly cuddling up to his hero. “We men gotta stick together, so these bossy girls don't take over... right, Denzel?” While Marlene stuck out her tongue at Cloud, the boy nodded, reverently touching the fresh scars on the swordsman's skin

 

“Why are you wearing Cloud's sweater, Tifa?” Marlene curiously asked, causing the young woman to instantly develop a coughing fit. Before Tifa could splutter a reply, the little girl gleefully exclaimed, “He can't sneak out on us if you have his shirt! Good thinking!” Scratching her chin, Marlene added conspiratorially, “We can let the air out of Fenrir's tires, too!”

 

“But then he can't deliver stuff!” Denzel protested, ever practical.

 

Cloud hugged the boy until he `oofed' while fixing the little girl with a steely look. “I said I was staying and I meant it.”

 

Clambering over Tifa to put herself eyeball to eyeball with the swordsman, Marlene growled, “We're just making sure that you're going to stick around, because when you're here, Tifa's happy… and when Tifa isn't happy, ain't nobody happy.”

 

“Sounds like something your old man would say,” Cloud observed, tweaking her nose. “Speaking of Barret, why don't you kids go wake him up?”

 

“I don't think Daddy got much sleep.”

 

“We could wait and let Yuffie poke him with her shuriken, but then he'd be cranky all afternoon. I think he'd appreciate it more if you two did the honours.” The children hopped off the bed and galloped for the hall, until brought up short by Cloud's call. “Close the door on your way out; Tifa's gotta get dressed.”

 

“Shouldn't you leave, too?” Marlene demanded suspiciously.

 

“I will... in a minute.”

 

In the silence after the door banged shut with as much enthusiasm as it had opened, Tifa remarked conversationally, “My parents had a lock on their bedroom door. Until this moment, I never understood why.”

 

“We're definitely gonna need a lock,” Cloud mused. “And a bigger bed.”

 

She glanced around the small space. “Won't fit in here.”

 

“Will in my room.”

 

Tifa propped herself up on her elbow. “You're serious?”

 

“The sun won't wake us up because my windows face a different direction.”

 

“I could just make some curtains.”

 

“Work with me here. Marlene can't bunk in with Denzel much longer, and this room is perfect for her.”

 

She was clearly impressed. “You're really thinking ahead.”

 

He preened a little. “Plus, until we install a lock, I can wedge my door closed with Fenrir's spare tire.”

 

“If your room becomes our room, all the spare parts go into the garage.”

 

“Deal.”

 

Alerted by his satisfied smirk, Tifa suddenly queried, “Is there another reason why you want us to move into your room?”

 

“Hell, yeah. We can be as noisy as we want.”

 

“Noisy…?” she asked in confusion, until she figured it out. “Oh, really? You're that good, huh?”

 

Slowly tracing her lower lip with his thumb, his eyes hooded, Cloud purred, “You know it.”

 

Cheekily nipping at the calloused digit, she blandly challenged, “Not that I recall.”

 

His eyes instantly developed a mischievous glint. “Guess I'll have to refresh your memory.” Tifa barely had time to wonder if she could truly handle the full force of Cloud's undivided attention before he pulled her down for a very thorough kiss that had her shoving at the blankets in order to touch more of his skin.

 

“Eeyew!” Marlene loudly complained to Denzel. “I told you we couldn't leave them alone together!” The door slammed shut, shaking the window in its frame.

 

As Cloud let out a frustrated groan, Tifa giggled merrily. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

 

“Absolutely,” he answered, his expression so serene and clear of all doubt that she had to kiss him. A long, blissful moment later, he murmured, “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

 

“As if I ever could,” Tifa whispered tremulously.

 

Cloud wove his fingers into her hair, bringing her mouth to his for a deep, sensual kiss. Several minutes later, he pulled away in an effort to maintain some semblance of control in case their watchdogs barged in again, but Tifa draped herself over him, nibbling on his ear while sliding her hands under his blanket in search of more sensitive skin. Trying to distract her, he thought to ask, “Was Marlene right about why you took my sweater?”

 

Tifa froze. “Um… maybe?” she hedged, but Cloud laughed, then instantly smothered any residual concerns with fervent caresses and heated kisses.

 

When they were both flushed and breathless, he smiled contentedly, bumping his nose against hers. “It's good to be home.”

 

Ф Ф Ф Ф Ф