Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Bishies & Buster Swords ❯ Redemption ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: Don't own ‘em; they’re probably relieved about that.
A/N: This fic was written for LJ’s SpringKink community and their May 2012 round.  The prompt was Final Fantasy VII, Aerith/anyone: futanari, Cetra anatomy had a few quirks.  Thanks to Ranuel for her suggestions!  Setting is Original Game (heavily influenced by Crisis Core and Advent Children: Complete), up to the Temple of the Ancients. For those who aren’t familiar with the term, a futanari is often referred to as a ‘dick-girl’ for their most obvious sexual feature, but they actually have complete sets of both male and female reproductive organs.
A prompt like this is normally out of my comfort zone, but when a stampeding horde of plot!bunnies tackles you to the floor and screams, ‘WRITE THIS!!!’ in your ears in their teeny-tiny, shrill voices... you listen, because the implied ‘or else’ isn’t worth risking.  
Warning(s): Cunnilingus, fellatio, f/f, f/m/f

In retrospect, she really shouldn’t have been surprised by Tifa’s reaction.  
Aerith hasn’t known the dark-haired fighter very long, but one thing she does know - Tifa doesn’t panic.  Tifa’s the strong, steady one that makes everyone feel safe and included – from foul-mouthed man-mountains to arrogant, too-cocky ex-SOLDIERs to... what exactly is Red XIII, anyways?  All of them, including her, pivot around Tifa like she’s the fixed star in their firmament.  Barret docilely defers to Tifa’s opinions and Red practically rolls over on his back for her.  While Cloud is seemingly impervious to any of her feminine wiles, Aerith notes the way his cold gaze softens when he watches Tifa – but only when she’s not looking.  The dark-haired woman’s gentle smiles - the special ones she keeps only for him - are greeted by his normal stony facade and Aerith wonders why he’s hiding his feelings, since they’re as obvious as the massive sword on his back.
Zack’s sword.  The gilt trimmings are gone and it looks like it was run over several times, but the profile is unmistakeable.   She will get to the bottom of that, sooner or later.
But right now, she has a far more urgent problem.  
“I’ve definitely never seen anything like that,” Tifa says, her voice and tone much calmer than Aerith expected, considering she’s just found out that her new roommate has rather unusual genitalia.  On the other hand, only two other people on the Planet – discounting a dozen or so leering ShinRa scientists – know about this, and neither Elmyra nor Zack freaked out, either.  In fact, Tifa’s open curiosity and lack of disgust remind her a very great deal of Zack, who found out in far more awkward circumstances than this - the very first time a kiss got out of hand, as a matter of fact.
“Does it cause you any, er, difficulties?” Tifa’s asking, and Aerith pulls herself out of that memory, because despite the confusing, embarrassing start, that particular encounter with Zack had ended very, very well and if she thinks too much about it, her appendage will definitely create a ‘difficulty’ right now.  Blushing at some of the more erotic images her brain insists on parading, Aerith sits down quickly in the hot water before anything raises its head, so to speak.  
“Oh – I’ve made you uncomfortable!  I’m sorry!”  Tifa is contrite, and Aerith reflects that if their situations were reversed, she probably wouldn’t be so worried about causing offence.
“It’s all right.  Um, thank you for not screaming or anything,” she replies.  “I know it must have been a shock.”
“A little,” Tifa confesses bashfully.
“I know I’m unusual.  The ShinRa scientists were very clear on that.”
“Scientists?”
“I was seven when my mother and I escaped from the ShinRa Tower.”
“Mrs. Gainsborough told us some of your story....”
“But she didn’t mention this.”
“Um, no.”
Aerith reaches for the soap and starts lathering up.  “I’m half-Cetra, so maybe that’s why I’m different?  The Cetra and human genes might not have mixed well.”
Tifa retrieves a washcloth and scrubs Aerith’s back.  “What about your mother?”
“Don’t know,” she sighs, relaxing under the attention.  “I didn’t pay attention back then.” She takes the cloth and returns the favour, admiring the sleek muscles shifting beneath Tifa’s taut skin... until she notices the faint silvery lines that hint at old wounds.  “What are these from?”
“From when Sephiroth threw me down the stairs of the reactor.”  Tifa peers over her shoulder.  “From Cloud’s story tonight.  In the pub.”
Aerith notes the odd way Tifa phrases the comment about the ‘story’ and files it away for future consideration.
A few weeks pass, each day a jagged pattern of fighting, respite and more fighting.  Aerith gains more respect each day for Tifa, especially how she tirelessly works to keep the disparate personalities in their group away from each other’s throats and functioning more or less as a team.  The fact that she somehow manages to scrape together enough food to feed all of them when they’ve been out in the wilds for days is also impressive.
During that time, Cloud watches over all of them, but Tifa most particularly.  Aerith tests his resolve several times - out of boredom more than anything else - tries to entice him just to see if his attention can be shifted.  Her ego preens over her moderate success, but practically, there’s no reward in stressing Tifa.  Burned meals affect all of them, so Aerith desists – but not before she asks Tifa, in a roundabout way, why she doesn’t defend her claim to the ex-SOLDIER.
“Cloud’s fragile.”
Aerith blinks, opens her mouth once, thinks twice and shuts it.  The tough, swaggering ex-SOLDIER, the one who spits monsters on his sword several times per day and often before breakfast, who awkwardly flirts with her but yearns for Tifa – he’s like one of Elmyra’s precious china teacups.  He’ll shatter if pressure is applied on two many sides; Aerith sobers as all the potential repercussions of Cloud cracking before they’ve achieved their goal bare their fangs at her in toothy grins.
The tension between her and Tifa dissipates after she stops flirting with Cloud, and Aerith decides she prefers it that way.
They make it to Junon, and Cloud’s rescue of Priscilla gives them a place to stay for the first time in too long.  They luxuriate in hot water and soap and soft towels, and then happily snuggle into bed.  After the hard ground and thin bedrolls, the mattress and quilts seem positively decadent, and they’re asleep within seconds.
Until Tifa suffers a nightmare.
Aerith moves before she thinks and wraps her arms around the thrashing woman, using her body to restrain Tifa and her voice to bring her back to reality.  It takes a while, but then Tifa breaks down sobbing and Aerith cuddles her close, stroking her hair and making crooning noises like Elmyra used to when her darker memories came too close to the surface.  If Tifa loses it, so will the team, and Aerith hesitantly realizes that being a Healer might mean more than just casting Cure on broken bones and bruises.  This might be her most important role – to keep Tifa together.  
Thinking about it later, Aerith’s not exactly sure what comprised the tipping point - when innocent comforting turned into heated, moaning, begging, carnal caresses - but it was clear that both of them had a great deal of tension to release.  Tifa passes out in Aerith’s arms, and the next morning proves what happened was not an accident by boldly taking care of a certain stand of ‘morning wood’ before they share a necessary shower, where Aerith pushes the taller woman up against the wall and does things to her that makes Tifa’s knees give way.  At breakfast with their hostess, Red’s nose twitches and he gives them a long look out of his one good eye, before he nods and Aerith knows he’ll keep their secret.
After that first encounter, the rest of the boundaries topple like dominoes and they progress through the stages of intimacy with breath-taking speed.  Aerith decides that the phrase friends-with-benefits nicely defines their relationship, because while they’re friends, they both love someone else.  That fact is reinforced the first time Tifa lets her inside, because Aerith has to stop half-way, and not only because Tifa’s inner muscles briefly balk at the intrusion.  She’s struck by the memory of the first time Zack let her penetrate him – the lovely long lines of his body and throat as he helplessly arched upward off the marble slab, the dimmed colours of the stained glass window dappling patterns across his bare skin.   Tifa’s response is equally memorable, and Aerith puts every effort into showing her appreciation for this mark of trust.  The upshot of their sensual activity is that both she and Tifa are much calmer, more clear-headed, able to deal with whatever is thrown at them, be it a fire-breathing snake or a missile-spitting mech - or a cranky airship captain.
Aerith often thinks about Zack, especially when there’s a dark head enthusiastically bobbing in her lap, a hot, wet mouth teasing her erection and fingers stroking deep inside her. It’s easy to imagine that Zack is pleasuring her and she swears her orgasms are twice as hard.  She doesn’t think Tifa minds being mentally displaced, because she’s heard Cloud’s name escape the other women’s lips when Aerith returns the favour and uses her tongue to make Tifa come undone.
But it’s not enough, and Aerith knows it.  Just like Aerith would much rather be with someone else, Tifa really wants Cloud – she needs the one man who also survived the destruction of her childhood, because they’ve both lost everything and that fact binds them closer together than Aerith can truly understand.  She’s seen Cloud’s secret glances become more longing and more desperate as their journey lengthens, and as she studies him, she realizes that while his cracks might be more obvious, Tifa is as broken as he is.  However, Aerith’s selfish, and she’s not quite ready to give up her place in Tifa’s arms to Cloud.  Not yet.
Aerith loves watching Tifa fight.  The rest of the team does, too, but Aerith wonders if they see what she does, beyond the long, slim legs and slender arms that pack a killing force one minute and tenderly comfort the wounded the next.  The steely determination that radiates from Tifa’s stance, the way she drops her chin and squares her shoulders as she assesses her target are all obvious, but you have to intimately know all the shadings of Tifa’s eyes to see the change.
The way her vivid eyes flame with deadly anger.
There’s always a moment, when Tifa’s standing among the steaming shambles of her hapless opponent, where you can almost see the barely-repressed wrath rising like vapour from her tense body.  The reasons for Tifa’s darker emotions are obvious – the murder of your town by a madman is a big one – but Aerith wonders if the others really see.  She’s fairly sure that Cloud understands, as another survivor of the destruction, but he hasn’t been close enough to read the story in Tifa’s eyes. Then Tifa relaxes her stance, clasps her hands behind her back and stretches, rolling her shoulders in a motion that makes all the males in the near vicinity gulp audibly and either turn away quickly or stare more intently before she smiles cheerfully and returns to them.  Sometimes, Tifa can’t quite bank the fires burning inside her down to embers before she resumes her role as their sweet, comforting, motherly centre, and if Aerith looks closely enough, she sees that while Tifa’s control is iron-clad, the shackles are wearing very thin.
The carefully-leashed fury makes Aerith shiver, for a few reasons.  
Aerith will never admit it, but she quite likes those nights when the sparks in Tifa’s eyes remain long after the battle, because that’s when shy, quiet Tifa becomes rather... wild.  She just lays back and enjoys the attention as Tifa licks, nips, sucks, strokes and touches everywhere, until she’s straddled and ridden with desperate haste.  When Tifa finally collapses next to her on the bedding, her skin sheened with sweat from outrunning her demons, Aerith holds her close and kisses her forehead... and worries what will happen if one day the sparks burst into flames.  
That’s why one night she sends Cloud down to the river with a ‘forgotten’ towel for Tifa, knowing that the woman is naked and vulnerable and hoping that Cloud isn’t too far gone himself to pass up the opportunity.  When the couple doesn’t return for – well, long enough that if something hasn’t happened, she’s going to take Cloud by the hand and show him how it’s done – Aerith can’t believe it when Tifa returns alone.  She’s about to haul the other woman off into the bushes for an explanation, and maybe some comfort sex because she can’t believe Cloud could be so dense, when she notices Tifa’s flushed skin and kiss-swollen lips... and the soft, secretive smile worn by those who’ve had a few little wishes – twenty-three, to be exact - granted.
Aerith is sharp-tempered for the rest of the evening, because while she’s sure her impulse to bring the two of them together was a noble one, she hadn’t really expected to feel this much jealousy.  Distracted by her unhappiness, Aerith’s taken by surprise when Tifa lays out her bedroll beside hers instead of across the fire with Cloud, and then assumes it’s because Tifa wants to share the story of conquest.  She’s adopting a stiff upper lip when the other woman snuggles close, sneaking her hand inside Aerith’s bedroll to curve around her waist.
“Wh-why aren’t you with Cloud?” she finally demands.
“Because then you’d be alone,” Tifa replies sleepily, as if it should be obvious.
It’s sobering for Aerith to realize that if she’d been the one to score with Cloud, she’s not so sure that she’d be as gracious in victory as Tifa.
They go along like this for several more days, Tifa spending more and more time with Cloud, but she always comes back to Aerith.  Aerith keeps her hands to herself, but Tifa doesn’t take the hint, nor does she seem to realize that there are rules to these situations.  At first, Aerith doesn’t really care for the idea of taking Cloud’s seconds... until Tifa does this new nibbling-licking-amazing thing to her shaft and completely rocks Aerith’s world.
Nibelheim changes everything.  
Again, in retrospect, Aerith should’ve expected it.  Returning to the place where it all started for both Cloud and Tifa and nothing happening?  They should be so lucky.
So that night, after she’s almost succeeded in wearing Tifa out so she’ll sleep dreamlessly, Aerith’s not completely surprised when someone slips into their room and she rolls over to see Cloud standing in the shadows.  The dark memories gripping his mind, the same ones she’s been fending away from Tifa, have obviously driven him here for comfort – but perhaps he’s gotten more than he bargained for, finding his nude lover tangled up with an equally unclothed Aerith.   Prodding Tifa into awareness, she indicates the swordsman with a small jerk of her head, and then mouths the invitation for privacy.  She intends to find some place to lurk and let them get on with it, but Tifa grips her hand and shakes her head.
The meaning is clear.  Tifa wants her to stay, and Aerith realizes that perhaps the task of keeping Cloud Strife together, body and soul, is too big a task for one person.
Nodding her agreement, they slide out of bed together and approach Cloud.  Taking his hands, they draw him into the moonlight and begin undressing him.  Aerith doesn’t try to hide herself, and Cloud isn’t blind, but he doesn’t react as she briskly unbuckles the myriad straps and belts; she has some experience, after all, in freeing a SOLDIER from his uniform.  Cloud seems barely aware of her as she strips him, all of his attention focussed on Tifa, but once he’s naked, she catches him checking her out and she almost giggles because she just did exactly the same thing.
He’s bigger than she is, but that makes sense considering she’s petite, and she wonders if Tifa was surprised the first time Cloud mounted her.  However, she notes that Cloud’s smaller than Zack; that extra six inches of height makes a difference in more ways than one.  Leaving his clothing and armour in a heap on the floor, they lead him to the bed - and once they’re all under the sheets, it’s plain he doesn’t quite know what to do with both of them.
Tifa takes the lead, snuggling against his side and resting her head on his shoulder, then beckons to Aerith, who follows suit.  Cloud exhales deeply, and his arms slowly wrap around the two women, pulling them close, and they simply lie there for a long time, listening to each other’s heartbeats and watching the moonlight trickle across the ceiling.  Then Tifa slides onto Cloud’s chest and begins softly, gently kissing him.  Aerith watches for a while, until Cloud’s growing erection nudges her wrist and she starts slowly stroking his length.  Tifa somehow notices, even though Cloud’s keeping her mouth rather busy and then her hand lightly grips Aerith’s hardening flesh.  
Breaking away from Cloud’s lips, Tifa stretches across his chest and kisses Aerith, and judging by the way his erection jumps, he’s not immune to the sight of beautiful women making out.  Then he’s obviously found something to do with at least one of his hands, because Tifa moans sharply into Aerith’s mouth and her hips do a slow, sensuous gyration that Aerith recognizes from the many times she’s explored Tifa’s wet heat.  However, Cloud simply cups Aerith’s ass and squeezes gently, but doesn’t go any further.  Aerith suspects that he’s afraid of what he might find and she doesn’t blame him.
However, once she goes down on Tifa in front of him, Cloud plucks up his courage.  Either that, or his libido gets the better of his nerves.  As he moves around behind her, Aerith spreads her knees and pushes her bottom up into the air, so the moonlight reveals all if he cares to look.  Surprisingly gentle fingers tentatively trace the length of her erection and then test the slickness of her most intimate flesh.  Then he’s delicately circling her shaft while sliding a cautious finger inside her and he’s being so careful that she nearly screams in frustration.
“Gods – give me something worthwhile!” she practically growls, pushing backward into his touch and frantically rocking her hips.  Tifa makes some sort of sign, probably telling him it’s all right, and then Aerith can’t suppress a small shriek when Cloud buries himself inside her.  Now that’s more like it, and when he reaches around and rapidly pumps her shaft, she has to give up pleasuring Tifa because she doesn’t want to accidentally bite anything.  She’s so close that her toes are curling when Cloud pulls her upright on her knees and releases her erection, but before she can gasp out a complaint, Tifa’s mouth replaces his hand and Aerith desperately tries to stifle her cry as she climaxes so hard she blacks out.
When she comes to, Cloud and Tifa are deeply involved in each other, his fingers twining in her hair as they sensually kiss.  Her legs are wrapped around his hips and he’s slowly, so slowly grinding into her.  Tifa’s making needy little sounds and Aerith smiles, knowing that the dark-haired woman will be soon begging harder, faster because Tifa likes a good ride.  Sure enough, Cloud rises up on his hands and his hips snap, driving himself deeper as Tifa breathlessly urges him on.  Aerith lazily watches, then notices the way Tifa and Cloud are connecting with their gazes as well as with their bodies.
Mako-blue and ember-red.  Ice and fire.  Opposites... yet perfectly balanced.
As Cloud slams into the gasping woman one final time before collapsing in Tifa’s arms, Aerith ponders the immutable truth that while ice quenches fire, fire thaws ice.  Cloud and Tifa are two halves of the same circle, forged by the joint tragedy of their childhoods; fragile when separated, together they are the enduring core of the team.  If one cracks, the other will surely follow.  
After a little while, they sort themselves out for sleep.  Cloud makes noises about leaving, on the grounds of the gossip it’ll cause if he swaggers out of their room in the morning, but obviously Barret’s ire isn’t that much of a concern, because he gives up when Tifa winds herself around him.  Then she pulls Aerith into their joint embrace, and Cloud stops fussing as both women drape themselves over him.  Aerith figures that if he isn’t wearing the biggest shit-eating grin ever, there’s something wrong with Cloud Strife that neither she nor Tifa can fix... but when she peeks, it’s there, practically lighting up the room, and she decides that he’ll be all right.  
The fifth or sixth time all three of them collide in a bed, as she’s gasping into Cloud’s equally heaving chest, it suddenly dawns on Aerith that Tifa’s up to her usual tricks – making sure everybody else gets the release they need while quietly putting aside her own.  The realization jerks her upright; Cloud’s instantly on alert, and he frowns questioningly.  She points at Tifa, who’s drowsing quietly against his shoulder, and mimes her concern.  Surprisingly, he catches on right away and raises his brows, the message clear - what are they going to do about it?
If the strength of Tifa’s orgasm is anything to go by, she and Cloud work very well as a team.  
He kisses Tifa awake, and as soon as she’s sighing against his lips, Aerith settles between her thighs and teases Tifa’s hidden nub until she’s whimpering and trembling and pleading.  Then she moves aside, allowing Cloud to take her place, except something longer and harder than her tongue slides between Tifa’s slick folds.  Fondling Tifa’s breasts as Cloud’s thrusts become stronger, Aerith slides her hand down between them and applies that little extra pressure that takes Tifa over the edge, her scream swallowed by Cloud’s lips.
A few minutes later, a semi-conscious Tifa cradled between them, Aerith and Cloud exchange triumphant smirks.  Oh, yes - Tifa’s not going to get away with placing herself second, not on their watch.
Aerith quickly notices that Cloud avoids two things, even in the heat of passion.  He doesn’t kiss her on the mouth, and he doesn’t finish inside her; those intimacies are reserved for Tifa.  Aerith doesn’t mind, especially not right now.  This is her second favourite position with both of them – lying on her back, her legs hooked around Cloud’s thighs.  She’s inside Tifa and Cloud’s inside her, and she watches as Cloud mouths the column of Tifa’s throat, brings her nipples to hard peaks, slips long fingers into her dark curls and rubs until she’s writhing sensuously on top of Aerith.
Tifa’s entire body is flushed a delicate shade of pink, her eyes heavy-lidded, and she’s so beautiful that Aerith fights to keep her eyes open so she doesn’t miss a single moment of Tifa’s ecstasy... but it’s almost impossible because the dual assault they’re waging on her senses is so overwhelming that she always, always orgasms before they do.  Cloud pulls out then, leaving her body clenching around nothing but when Tifa’s orgasm hits, it makes up for the loss.  Tifa always kisses her before she allows Cloud to lift her free from Aerith’s softening erection.  She likes it when Tifa crouches over her as Cloud pounds into her, because she can play with Tifa’s breasts and sometimes brings her to a second orgasm before he finishes.  
They sleep tumbled together like puppies, but Aerith has noticed a change.  Before, it was Cloud who they kept safe between them; now it’s Tifa who she and Cloud protect.    
Now that Cloud’s sharing their nights, Tifa’s usually too relaxed for her subconscious to make trouble, but occasionally it does, and Aerith appreciates his strength when Tifa struggles and lashes out.  They comfort her, pressing her between them, anchoring her in this reality as Cloud kisses away her tears while Aerith just holds on tight until the desperate sobbing stops.  Falling asleep with their arms around each other, Tifa burrows into Cloud’s chest while Aerith tucks against her back, and she’s grateful for Cloud’s help in keeping Tifa in one piece because she’s not sure she could do it alone.
Cloud surprises Aerith one afternoon, as she’s filling buckets of water for their dinner.  Surprises her so badly that she nearly topples over backwards into the stream, as a matter of fact, because he can be so darned quiet in those heavy boots and he’s suddenly there, right in front of her, and she flails instead of Transforming him in to a frog.  He pulls her to safety, then gives her some space while she smoothes her dress and mutters about heart failures.
“Thank you.”
Startled, she looks up, sees him regarding her from beneath his bangs. “Um... what for?”
“For keeping Tifa sane.”  Her confusion must be obvious, because he tries again.  “You help her... keep going.”  He ducks his head.  “If something happens to Tifa, I don’t... I don’t know if I could finish this.  Thank you.”
“Uh, er... you’re welcome.”  Then Cloud Strife stuns her so thoroughly, he might as well have used Bolt.  Stepping closer, he stoops and kisses Aerith’s cheek, then gives her a shy smile that hints at the boy he used to be before ShinRa and Sephiroth changed his world forever.  She falls a little in love with him then, but swats his arm and makes him carry the buckets back to camp, and when Tifa sees them together, her smile is a little tight, but at least dinner isn’t burned.
The ground is still smoking when Cloud drops his sword and gathers up Tifa’s crumpled body.  Aerith panics when she sees him approaching, the dark hair like a funeral banner over his arm, the gloved hand dangling limply, the pale skin scribed with red arabesques, and almost forgets her role.  She can fix this... she has to fix this.  As she frantically scrabbles for materia, for potions - for hope - Cloud kneels in front of her and she sees every terror he’s ever experienced etched starkly into his face as he tenderly brushes clinging strands away from Tifa’s dirt-smeared cheek.  
Finally, finally locating the elongated case, Aerith fumbles with the tiny latch, finally snapping it off with a shrill oath that startles the rest of their group.  Removing the flame-coloured, downy feather, she lays it on Tifa’s unmoving chest – and prays.  Prays for the wounded fighter and the broken warrior... and when the feather dissolves, and Tifa returns from the edge of eternal darkness, Aerith nearly collapses with relief.  Cloud presses Tifa to his heart and kisses her in front of everyone, then reaches out and grasps Aerith’s hand.  She’s nearly in need of Cure herself, because his grip is crushing, but she doesn’t care.  
It’s the first time since Zack that her heart’s been fully opened.
The night before everything goes sideways at a ruined temple hidden in the jungle, the three of them escape the camp and spying toy cats.  Tifa brings a blanket, and they find a mossy patch of ground to spread it on.  Like the first night they brought Cloud into their bed, there isn’t much talking as they undress each other.  
Kneeling on the blanket, Aerith pulls Tifa down to her, running her hands through those long dark strands, cupping her breasts, rolling her nipples into hard buds while kissing her long and slow and deep.  Tifa’s hands are wandering, too, from Aerith’s breasts down her body to stroke her hard length until her legs start shaking.  Then Cloud presses up against Aerith’s back, his erection sliding inside her and his calloused hand takes over stroking her and it’s so like when Zack used to take her this way that she cries out.
That’s one of the reasons why this is her favourite position, quickly followed by all the others as Tifa slowly reclines onto her back, her legs spreading wide, taking hold of Aerith’s erection and guiding it inside as Cloud eases them both into her.  Tifa wraps those long, long legs around both of their hips and then Cloud leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of Tifa’s shoulders and begins thrusting into Aerith.  The powerful motion transfers into Tifa; pinned between them, Aerith matches Cloud’s powerful rhythm as they both make love to Tifa.  Then Tifa’s kissing her, and she’s reaching down to press her knuckle against Tifa’s nub until the dark-haired woman breaks free from the kiss and tosses her head back, gasping disjointed pleas to the star-spangled sky and Aerith thinks maybe this time she’ll make Tifa scream the way she does for Cloud.
Tifa’s there, she’s so close... and then Cloud makes a strangled noise against Aerith’s back as his entire body shudders and she realizes that he’s lost control.  However, he stays with her as she takes over the action, plunging repeatedly into Tifa until she cries out, her body rippling around Aerith’s and triggering a massive orgasm that briefly steals her senses.  It’s the closest they’ve come to climaxing together, and when Aerith can think again, she finds herself snuggled between Cloud and Tifa.  
She hasn’t been this happy in many years, and she feels very, very protective of both of them.
A few days later, when six feet of honed steel opens her heart for the last time, in the split-second before she slides into that utter darkness, she desperately prays for Cloud and Tifa’s safety instead of her own salvation.  Later, held close in the Lifestream’s embrace, she wonders if that was the prayer that triggered the White Materia, more so than the general ones on the Planet’s behalf.  
When a despairing Tifa and a shattered Cloud plunge into her new realm, Aerith protects her friend’s sanity as Tifa slowly, shard by shard, helps the fractured warrior re-assemble his true self.  When Cloud is finally restored but struggling to save an exhausted Tifa, Aerith makes sure that both of them survive to fight another day.  When Cloud defeats Sephiroth in the Planet’s Core, she transports him back to Tifa and the rest of their friends before she calls on the Lifestream to join the battle for the Planet against Meteor.  
Two years later, after she and Zack tear open the barrier between realities to protect the two people that they love the most once more, Aerith touches Cloud’s calm visage and realizes that he’s finally whole, and she exerts all the power she has to send him back to Tifa.  Tifa, whose eyes are ember-bright, but this time with love and hope instead of slow-burning anger.
As she finally dissolves into the shimmering ether, Zack’s fingers twined with hers, Aerith smiles.  
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