Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Learning Curve Continuum ❯ Homeless ( Chapter 7 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: Definitely not mine; always returned to Square Enix after they’ve been thoroughly traumatized.

A/N: Fiddling slightly with the sequencing of the scene where Vincent decides to join the group, and assuming that Aerith and Tifa find the same notes on the experiments performed on the boys also read by Zack in Crisis Core. The location of the Library was also moved from the basement of the ShinRa mansion to an upper floor for Sephiroth’s grand exit.

Warnings: Partial nudity, sexual situations, coarse language.

Bouquets to my wonderful betas, Kitsune13 and Ranuel.

Learning Curve Continuum
Chapter Seven: Homeless
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“I shall take this street, Cloud-san.”

“Meet ya in the square.”

Nanaki woofed and disappeared into the dusk.  I deliberately walked taller down the rapidly-darkening street, my footsteps loud on the pavement.  Lights were coming on all over Nibelheim, the yellow glow warming the cobblestones, but they didn’t do a damn thing to make the place seem less ominous.  My senses were prickling and the thunder inside my brain made me restless and impatient; I hadn’t encountered any more of those weirdos in black cloaks since we left ‘Tifa’s house’, but that report I found on the table in ‘her’ bedroom a few minutes ago was making me plenty uncomfortable.  

Clones, Sephiroth, Reunion.

Why did those three words make me want to either crawl right out of my skin or puke - or both?  

In the square, Nanaki’s tail-flare was easy to spot.  “All quiet,” he reported.

“Head back to the inn and see about moving all of us into a single room.  I’ll be there shortly.”

“Excellent idea.  This place makes me very uneasy – especially since the gates are locked at night.”

As he padded away, I circled the rebuilt water tower.  Its paint was fresh, its bolts shiny; a perfect prop.  Jumping easily up to the platform, suspicion made me snoop in the reservoir; it was full of fresh water, so maybe this fake actually functioned? I used my vantage point to scan the village; in the clear mountain air, thin curls of smoke hung suspended over the chimneys.  In the distance, I could just make out the dark bulk of the ShinRa Mansion, and above, the spiky outline of Mount Nibel bristling menacingly against the stars.  

A shiver went down my spine.

In an instant I was again fourteen years old, shredding strips of wood off the weathered planks of the platform, sweating bullets that someone would see me sitting alone and assume I’d been stood up.  For a while there, I thought I’d been stood up, but Tifa finally showed.  She was pretty in a pale blue dress and a shy smile, and when she held out her hand for me to help her up, my tongue knotted as badly as my guts.  Ducking her head, she murmured that she’d had to sneak out, so could we sit on the side opposite to her house so that her dad wouldn’t accidentally see us?

Shiva, I was hopeless.  The speech I’d carefully rehearsed for days flew right out of my head and instead I started babbling.  Tifa listened politely, swinging those slim legs, but I could tell that she was trying to figure out why I’d called her out; I lost my nerve, but when she asked if I’d be her ‘knight in shining armour’ when I became a famous SOLDIER, I felt a whole lot braver.  Brave enough to make the promise, but not to seal it with a kiss.

Come to think of it, I haven’t kissed her in the last few days; better do something about that, pronto.

I told Tifa that I joined SOLDIER in order to impress her, but that was only partially true - it was her old man that I really wanted to impress.  Who’s gonna tell a war hero to stay away from his daughter?  My mom thought that Mr. Lockhart took out his grief over losing his wife on me, because his reaction to Tifa’s accident was way out of proportion.  I couldn’t stop the rotted bridge from giving way, no more than I could help not being as badly injured as Tifa.  If I could’ve switched places with her and taken on her pain, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.

It was the longest week of my life, waiting for her to wake up.

An’ the five years after that, when I wasn’t supposed to even talk to her, would’ve felt twice as long if Mom hadn’t figured out a way around the old grouch.

Tifa looked about as lost as I felt when she finally came back to school.  Her smile didn’t reach her eyes any more, and wouldn’t for a really long time.  I wasn’t allowed to walk her home, even though we lived next door to each other, but I made sure that I wasn’t far behind... even if I had to punch somebody out first.  I admit it; I picked fights with other boys just to keep them away from her.  Tifa was – is – mine to protect.  Dunno why; I just know I’ve felt that way ever since I first laid eyes on her, when we were both still little squirts.

I gotta hand it to my mom; if not for her, I think I mighta gone crazy after Tifa got hurt and I was banned from her presence.  Well, crazier than I already was.  Once she realized that Tifa was doing all the domestic stuff in the Lockhart house while still grieving for her mother and recovering from her injuries, she took action.  When Mom got a bee in her bonnet, it was better to simply get out of her way; Mr. Lockhart didn’t stand a chance.  She organized the other moms, and pretty soon, food and help with the house or yard work started arriving at regular intervals.  However, the first time she sent me over with a casserole full of meat-stuffed noodles, Mr. Lockhart shut the door in my face.

Mom really didn’t take kindly to that.  She was a classy lady, but whoo, boy – when she got pissed, look out.

She put on her good coat, took the casserole and marched out the door.  I followed her progress around the inside of our house, pressing my ear against the window closest to the Lockhart’s front door.  There was an ‘exchange of words’ as they say, and then he let her into the house.  She was gone forever, but when she finally came back empty-handed, she was both pleased with herself and plenty riled up.

“That poor girl is a shadow of herself,” she growled.  I’ll never forget Mom’s steely gaze, or the way she gripped my shoulder hard enough to hurt and declared, “We have to look after Tifa, because he’s too broken to notice that she’s working herself half to death.”  

After that, Mom always packed extra food in my lunch; it was my job to get it to Tifa as unobtrusively as possible.  This was tricky, since the principal an’ most of the teachers considered me a pain in the ass.  I successfully snuck the parcels into Tifa’s desk or locker until one recess I was busted by her teacher.  Turned out she was worried about Tifa too, so after that she quietly delivered Mom’s care packages.  

I always looked forward to the days when Mom made double batches of food and called Tifa to pick up before her father arrived home from work.  She always invited her in for something to drink, a cookie or two and ‘girl talk’, and Tifa always accepted.  I hung around, listening to them chat, but didn’t say much.  Sometimes, Tifa ended up crying on Mom’s shoulder; Mom would hold her, petting her hair until she wiped her eyes and put her ‘brave’ face back on.  I made myself scarce when that happened, because I felt so damn helpless, an’ then that always made me angry.  Punching holes in the walls only put me on Mom’s shit list, so instead I’d go out back and chop wood.

I chopped a lot of wood during those years.  A couple of effin’ forest’s worth.

Tifa appreciated what we did for them, and thanked us every time, but her old man never once acknowledged what was going on.  Mom doubted that he noticed, because he was so sunk in his own misery.  That was okay, though, because if he figured it out, he probably would’ve tried to put a stop to it because I was involved.

A few days before the anniversary of Mrs. Lockhart’s death I was in the foyer of my house with Tifa, holding a steaming container of stew while she put on her coat, when she turned to me and smiled.  A real smile, not a faked one – the first I’d seen since her mother’s death – and it was for me.  “Thank you, Cloud,” she whispered, taking the dish from my suddenly-shaking hands.

“No problem,” I mumbled, blushing like an idiot.  I held the door for her, then looked around to make sure the coast was clear before running ahead and opening her front door so she didn’t have to fumble with the knob.

“Thanks,” she said again, carefully setting down the stew on a bench in the entranceway.  “Um, Cloud?”

“Yes?”  

“Would you... oh, never mind.”

“If there’s anything you need, just ask.” My heart was beating so loudly, I could barely hear her soft voice.

“I will - but later,” she said hurriedly.  “I don’t want Daddy to catch you here and make a scene.”

“Okay.  Don’t forget!” I urged.  Tifa smiled again and nodded, and I almost skipped the short distance home.  Two smiles in less than five minutes?  Awesome.  

A couple of days later, she returned the container; while Mom put on the kettle,  Tifa started twisting the hem of her sweater, looking close to tears.  Mom beat me to the question.  “What’s the matter, sweetie?” she gently asked.

Tifa ducked her head.  “I w-want to go up to the cemetery, to clean up M-Mom’s g-grave, but Daddy says I can’t!  H-He won’t go with me, either!”

Mom made soothing sounds and hugged Tifa close; I could almost see the gears turning in her head.  “I’ll tell your father that I’m going to teach you how to make spicy dumpling soup tomorrow.  While the stock is simmering, we’ll go shopping for the dumpling ingredients – and come back by way of the cemetery.  Cloud can go up ahead of time with the cleaning supplies.  How does that sound?”

In reply, Tifa wiped her eyes on her sleeve and left Mom breathless with a rib-cracking squeeze before launching herself across the kitchen at me.  I had a moment to brace myself before she was hugging me for all she was worth, her warm cheek briefly against mine – and then she danced back across the kitchen.  “Thank you so much!  I hope he says ‘yes’!”

“Oh, he will,” Mom said confidently, and I knew she wouldn’t be taking a ‘no’ from Mr. Lockhart for an answer.  He might have been a cranky old ass, but he wasn’t stupid enough to turn down a bowl of that soup, because my mom’s version was the best.   

A chill breeze nipped at my ears; adjusting my cowl, I turned in the direction of the cemetery, remembering Tifa’s happiness that day over a bucket of water and a scrub brush.  We helped her wash down the stone marker and cut back the weeds, tidying up the neglected plot.  Mom placed a small package of honey twists and a bouquet of flowers they’d bought at the market on the gleaming slab and stood with her arm around Tifa’s shoulders while she talked to her mom, telling her about all the things that had happened in the past year.  Tifa was in tears by the end, and Mom’s eyes were damp, too; I was too busy blushing over the nice things she said about us to cry.

After that day, Mom set up cooking lessons for Tifa with the other ladies; that’s why Tifa is such an awesome cook.  Unfortunately, that meant she spent less time at my house and I spent more time in detention for fighting.  It wasn’t a rational response, since they were only helping her out like we were, but my hackles went up every time one of the other boys walked her home from a session.  Mom finally came down like a ton of bricks and threatened to ship me to her sister’s place down on Mideel if I didn’t smarten up, because she didn’t want Tifa being ostracized.  It wasn’t easy, but I controlled myself.

As Tifa healed emotionally, she took up with her silly friends again.  They made her laugh, and some of her sparkle came back, so I tolerated them... but it was hard when her smiles were directed at someone else.   We lost whatever closeness that had developed, until weeks and then months went by between visits... and finally, she just stopped coming by our house at all.  Mom said that this was normal, and it was good that Tifa was out and about in the community, but it pissed me off.  After all, I was the only one who knew that she still cried almost every night, because our bedroom windows were directly opposite to each other.  The distance between us grew until it was like I didn’t exist; that’s probably why she was surprised when I called her out to the water tower years later.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.  Thinking about Tifa helped dull the thundering in my head; my headache’s courtesy of Aerith and I’m not exactly sure why.  When she commented that the other SOLDIER she knew had owned a sword exactly like mine an’ it was called the ‘Buster’, the splitting headache that immediately erupted stopped me from asking any questions.  I let Barret take over the buggy’s wheel while I tried not to let on that I was this close to borrowing Yuffie’s bucket, but apparently I’m a lousy actor.  Nanaki insisted that I go sit back with Tifa, and the pressure finally eased... only to start up again as soon as we reached Nibelheim and discovered that not only had the town been rebuilt, but it was an exact copy and filled with people who’d never heard of us.  Not to mention the half-dead types in black; I have no idea why they kept giving us items like Luck Sources, because they looked like they could use them more than we could.  I hope the host got rid of the one at the inn - talk about discouraging business.  

I thought Tifa was gonna be sick, too, when we found those two kids living in that attic and discovered they had number tattoos.  They were ‘VII’ and ‘VIII’, and now Nanaki’s worried that he’s part of the same series in some bizarre ShinRa experiment, but Barret figures he’s fine until he gets the urge to dress in black and sing Sephiroth’s praises.  I had to practically force Tifa to leave those kids behind; she was all set to bring them with us, at least until they started chanting ‘reunion’ and ‘Sephiroth’ over and over again.  She mentioned the kids to the innkeeper, but he acted like he hadn’t heard her; Aerith had noticed right away that the ‘normal’ residents totally ignore the black-cloak brigade.

Tifa’s on my mind for other reasons, too.  We briefly split up into two groups while we explored the town, and Tifa came back looking like she’d been hit by a truck.  Aerith was literally holding her up while Yuffie kept us at a distance; even Nanaki was rebuffed.  More shit happened right afterwards, when we found those kids, so I didn’t get a chance to find out what was going on before dinner.  Then, at the table tonight, Tifa burst into tears over a bowl of spicy dumpling soup.  As soon as I tasted it, I knew why.  Whoever made it definitely wasn’t from Nibelheim and had never eaten the real thing.  The soup was the last straw; Aerith and Yuffie took her in search of a hot bath while I went out on patrol with Nanaki, leaving Barret and the cat to protect the girls.  Dropping from the top of the structure, I enjoyed the sensation of free-falling for a split-second.  Flexing my knees, I glanced at the replicas of our houses before heading towards the inn.  

Smoky, stale air, and the smell of hard-working bodies crammed into a small space assaulted my nose the minute I walked through the inn’s iron-bound door.  The pub room was full; I vaguely remembered the host saying he had a fresh shipment of Banoran apple cider on tap.  Mom had been partial to it; said it tasted like home.  

“There ye are, laddie!  We were beginning to wonder if the Nibel Wolves had made a snack outta ya!”

Mentally rolling my eyes, I said flatly, “Tough for them to pick the locks on the gates.”

Unperturbed, Cait turned and scrambled up the stairs ahead of me; he stumbled a few times because his legs were too short and the risers too high.  Rather than step on him, I snagged the collar of his cloak and tossed him up onto the landing.  He straightened his crown and trotted down the hall to a different room than the one I’d paid for.  Knocking briskly, he waited a moment before struggling with the door; Nanaki’s claws curled around the frame and slid it open.  “He’s back!” Caith blithely announced, regally inclining his head to left and right.

As soon as I stepped over the threshold, Nanaki closed the door and tipped the bar into the track, then promptly lay down in front of it.  Several flickering oil lamps banished the darkness, and I noted that the window shutters had been securely locked. A couple of screens blocked my view of the other beds, but behind one, a lamp clearly silhouetted a feminine shape - Aerith, judging by the curves – as one of the girls undressed.  

I pulled my attention back to casing the rest of the room.  The doors and windows were the only weak points, the door especially.  Checking out the furniture for barricade potential, I selected a sturdy-looking bureau.  “Give me a hand, Barret.”  Instead, Nanaki was on his feet in an instant and helping push; the wood floor groaned and the heavy bureau creaked as we shoved it across the room and into place.  “That’ll hold long enough for us to mount a counter-attack... or escape out the window.”

“Do you expect trouble, Cloud-san?”

“Not really; we haven’t been directly threatened, but the hair on the back of my neck won’t stop prickling.”

“I agree. I, too, am restless.”

“Two hour rotating shifts; we need some sleep before we tackle the ShinRa Mansion tomorrow.”

“C’mere, Spiky.”  Barret beckoned from a bed next to one of the windows; Cait had clambered up to loll on the pillow beside him.

“What?”

He impatiently gestured again, and this time I obeyed.  When I stooped, he grabbed a handful of cowl and yanked.  “Tifa needs ya,” he rumbled in my ear.  Jerking his head in the direction of the second screened bed, he lowered his voice even more.  “She’s havin’ a real bad time of it, so the rest of us’ll cover yer shifts.”  He gave me a little shake.  “An’ remember ya got an audience.”

“We’ll keep it down,” I cheeked, just to provoke him; Barret released me, looking like he’d rather strangle me instead.  In case he decided to act on his impulse, I headed directly for the corner bed enclosed on two sides for maximum privacy.  I raised my hand to acknowledge Aerith and Yuffie’s murmured greetings as I passed their mattress, but my attention was elsewhere.  Slipping through the gap between the screen and the wall, I saw how Tifa was rolled up into a tight little ball under her quilt, illuminated by the pale light of a single oil lamp – which had been neatly positioned so as to throw tell-tale shadows on the screens for the benefit of snooping, over-protective teammates.  Nice try, guys.

While moving the lamp to a less-incriminating spot, I realized that Tifa was shaking so hard I could hear her teeth chattering.  I hadn’t intended on disarming in case of trouble, but one small whimper from her had me rapidly shucking everything but my sweater and trousers before sliding under the covers.  

Screw the ‘separate blankets’ shit.

Dragging my quilt over both of us for extra warmth, even if it was more psychological than anything, I wrapped my arms around her.  “I’m here.  It’s all right,” I whispered, nuzzling her forehead.  She gave a little shudder and uncurled her body, desperately burrowing into my embrace and fisting handfuls of my sweater as if anchoring herself.  I held her tightly, trying to stop her shivering with a combination of body heat and restraint, but it took a long time for her to be able to coherently answer when I urged, “Tell me.”

Her hands tightened and her body tensed.  “It’s g-gone,” she rasped.  “M-Mom’s g-grave... it’s gone.”

So they had ventured up to the cemetery.  I remembered the cryptic report I’d found in Tifa’s reconstructed house and aimed a mental Blade Beam in ShinRa’s direction.  “The bastards erased every trace of Nibelheim’s previous existence to cover up Sephiroth’s crime.”  Tifa let out a strangled sob; I couldn’t do anything more than hold on and make soothing noises while she cried.

My sweater was dampened within minutes, but I waited until she’d regained control before I let her go long enough to strip it off and pull her back against my chest.  She seemed momentarily flustered by bare skin, but quickly got over it.  “Th-those kids... in the attic....”

“Yeah?”

“You probably don’t remember them... they were only three or four years old when you left....” Her fingertips trembled against a couple of the deeper scars below my collarbone as she burst out, “How can ShinRa do such horrible things!”

“Because they think they’ll get away with them.”

“Wh-what do you think would happen to someone who came to visit their relatives…?  Would they kill them to keep the secret?”

That gave me pause.  “ShinRa makes people disappear all the time; wouldn’t be tough for them to pick off a few stray travellers, then claim they were killed by dragons or Nibel Wolves or something.”

Tifa was silent for a moment.  “Y-Your mom... she was so kind to me after... a-after....”  Fresh tears dampening her cheeks, she choked out, “Her cookies were the best – especially her honey twists.”

“Uh-huh.”  Wiping away the wet, I whispered, “Did you ever get the recipe?”

Worrying her lip, Tifa finally murmured, “Yes, but I haven’t made anything like that in years.”

“Something to look forward to, then, once all this crap is over.”

“Like our trip to Costa del Sol?”  Her smile was watery, but it was a smile.

“You bet.”  I aimed for a kiss, but Tifa dodged it by tucking her head under my chin.

She sighed, “I missed you after you left Nibelheim; I started looking for your name in the newspaper,” while rubbing her cheek against my chest.

Foiled in my intent, but enjoying the cuddling, I grumbled, “I didn’t do anything newsworthy.”

She hesitated and tensed.  “Cloud... can you tell me about your time in SOLDIER?”

“Don’t want to talk about it right now,” I muttered, sneaking my hand under the hem of her pyjama top to tickle the warm skin of her back.  The distraction worked; Tifa ‘eeped’ and went very still, but didn’t pull away.  Instead, she lifted her chin to inspect my face, finally giving me an opening to land that kiss.  She was a little stiff at first, but I eventually managed to coax her into participating.  I seriously doubt there’s anything better than kissing Tifa, especially when you’re tucked up all cozy in a bed with her at the same time.  Well, less clothing would be nice, but I’ll take what I can get.

She gradually relaxed, even tilting her head a little to make full contact easier.  I had to force myself to go slow – this ‘trust’ thing is killing me – but the reward came when Tifa’s lips parted against mine.  I wasn’t sure if it was an invitation or she was just catching her breath, but when she did it again, I took careful advantage of the opening.  

Sweet Shiva.  

The heat and wet of Tifa’s mouth sent all the blood in my body racing south; I actually felt a little dizzy, and it got worse when I couldn’t help imagining what another hot, wet place might taste like.  It was almost painful, but I wanted her to have better memories of this intimate kiss, since the first one on the cargo ship was kinda unpleasant for her – and I couldn’t remember it - so I reigned in my libido.  Until she exhaled a breathy little moan, that is.

Before I realized I was moving, I was half-off, half-on top of her, cupping her face in my hands while exploring her mouth.  I stopped myself from completely covering her, so she could escape if she felt uncomfortable, but after a short moment of tension, Tifa’s body went pliant and welcoming.  Her arms hesitantly crept around me, her trembling hands pressing lightly against my back.

Hell, I was shaking, too; dunno why. Then a random thought made my blood boil, and before I thought better of it, I pulled back and demanded, “How many boys have you kissed?”

Tifa blinked in confusion, while a distant part of me proudly admired her flushed cheeks and tousled hair.  Then her gaze sharpened.  “Why do you want to know?”

Shit.  Pressing my face into the pillow next to her ear, I mumbled, “It’s just... I feel like I’ve waited so long for you to notice me… that it makes me crazy thinking some other guy mighta....”

Her hand came up to cup the back of my head.  “No one’s ever kissed me like this,” she whispered.

I felt impossibly smug – and even more possessive, if that’s possible.  “Really?”

“All the decent boys had left Nibelheim by the time I might have been interested in them, and after that... well, raising Marlene while running the bar and working with AVALANCHE didn’t leave any time for romance.”  She squirmed a little, as if I was squishing her or she was embarrassed, and my eyes nearly crossed from the friction’s effect on my erection.  Then her fingers curled into my hair.  “Um... what about you?  There are always girls who can’t resist a man in uniform.”

Shiva, I was really tempted to see just how jealous Tifa might be, but since she was letting me invade her personal space and could leave me with a bald spot if I gave the wrong answer, I stifled the impulse.  Peeking at her from the corner of my eye, I admitted, “Too afraid to ask anyone other than you.  One of my buddies had a steady girl and he talked about her all the time; that was as close as I got to a first-hand experience.”

She started to smile, and then it faded, her expression shifting, but I still had no warning when she asked, “Was it the same buddy who lost his life a few months ago?”

White light blazed as someone shouted for me to run, and then a crackling green surge swallowed everything.

An entire division was practicing quick-march drills in steel-soled combat boots on my skull.  

Grimacing, I nosed into the yielding surface my face was pressed against, and soothing energy immediately washed over my poor, aching brain, reducing the pounding to a platoon’s worth.  I might have whimpered, and that earned me another dose of Cure.  Sagging in relief, I just laid there, enjoying the relatively pain-free moment.  Cure crackled over my senses for a third time, and then a gentle hand stroked through my hair.  “Cloud?”

Waking up cradled against Tifa’s chest almost made up for being knocked sideways.

Not that I’m complaining, but how the hell did I get here?  Pain lanced through my eyeballs, and I gave up trying to remember.  Cautiously cracking my lids, the first thing I saw was a close-up of the print decorating Tifa’s pyjama top, and then admired the way that the soft fabric clung to her breasts.  The view was awesome, but I figured I shouldn’t push my luck any further, so lifted my head to look up at the woman who was simultaneously comforting and arousing me.

The dimmed light couldn’t hide her concerned look.  “How’s your head?”

“Which one?”  

“Eh?”

Pulling away from those delectable curves, I shifted upward until I could tuck the other pillow under my head.  Grinning at Tifa, who looked torn between sympathy and irritation, I said, “Thanks for the Cure.”  She was plainly confused by my abrupt withdrawal, and appeared the tiniest bit lost, too, so I relented.  “C’mere.  Sleep time.”  

Without hesitation, she willingly cuddled closer, her head nestling on my shoulder in what I was starting to think of as ‘her’ spot.  I reached to snuff the lamp, figuring that the others would keep an eye on things.  It was really dark in our little corner, but it also made it seem more private, too.  Tifa’s fingers flexed on my chest; I caught her hand and kissed her knuckles.  She hummed, her bare toes slowly rubbing against my sock-clad ankle while I toyed with her hair... until, out of the blue, she murmured, “I always liked your ponytail.  When did you cut it off?”

“Buzzed off on the first day of boot camp.”

“Ah.”  After a small pause, Tifa drowsily confessed, “It was so tempting to give it a tug.”

“You can pull my tail any time.”

I thought she’d drifted off in the following silence, but then she mumbled, “May I kiss you good-night?”  Darkness apparently increases Tifa’s bravery where I’m concerned, because the lingering contact that followed was definitely unlike the shy little pecks she’d previously bestowed.  When her tongue delicately touched my lips, I let her explore while I found ways of pressing her amazing body even closer to mine.  We were both breathing hard when we finally came up for air; her fingertips traced my mouth and I playfully nipped at them.

Dammit, we were wearing too many clothes... and had too many people within hearing range.

She pulled away and I let her go, wondering if it was possible to suffer permanent damage due to chronic blue balls while she fiddled with her pyjamas.  Then she snuggled close, and there was suddenly a whole lot of warm, bare skin pressed up against mine.  “T-Tifa...?” I squeaked.  She hunched slightly, probably at my startled tone, but I quickly wrapped my arms around her in case she changed her mind; that’s when I figured out she’d unbuttoned her top.  We both went really still; my brain was still gleefully cheering ‘hell, yes’ when I had a sobering realization.  

Whether conscious of what she was doing or not, Tifa was testing just how far she could trust me.  That took the steam out of my kettle, and allowed me to notice how she was trembling again.  I slid my hands under her pyjama top and began caressing her back, trying to reassure her, and was captured by how she felt - silk over steel.  Her skin is so soft, but the powerful muscles beneath were a reminder that she could totally kick my ass if I went too far.  Uh, never mind the fact that she already has, when I was under the ‘green’ influence.

Avoiding temptation is hard enough at the best of times, never mind when it’s literally in the palms of your hands, but I gritted my teeth and stayed in neutral areas.  Tifa sighed softly, her frame relaxing completely, and within a few moments, her breathing deepened and evened out.  If she’s comfortable enough to fall asleep half-naked in my arms, then I must’ve passed her test; either that, or she was exhausted by the events of the day.  Tucking the blankets more snugly around both of us, I kissed her temple, then settled down to a watchful doze.  Her warm scent, trapped and concentrated by the quilts, was incredibly calming and I didn’t notice when I fell asleep.

“Find anything interesting?”

Aerith’s forced smile was almost painful – totally unlike her usual sparkle.  “A few things,” she answered vaguely, her gaze focussed on the tall, saturnine man standing silently beside me.  “Looks like you did, too.”

“This is Vincent Valentine, a former Turk who’d also like to have a chat with Professor Hojo.”

Tifa managed to inject some warmth into her smile as she stepped forward, offering her hand to the newcomer.  Instead, Vincent pressed his hand to his heart and bowed in a quaintly old-fashioned gesture before he and Nanaki sized each other up.  Nanaki’s nostrils flared several times as he inhaled deeply; tilting his head, he appeared to puzzle over something, but then tipped me a nod.

Upstairs Yuffie, Barret and the cat were hootin’ and hollerin’, punctuated by wild bursts of gunfire as they smashed or shot out whatever windows remained intact in the ShinRa Mansion.  When I yelled, they popped out onto the landing, looking kinda sheepish but highly pleased with themselves.  They were somewhat taken aback by Vincent, but Barret declared another gunman was welcome, even if he was a ‘spooky-looking fella’.  Yuffie sidled closer, probably with larcenous intentions, but one look from him sent her scurrying; wish I had the same knack.  Cait’s reaction was interesting, once he found out that Vincent had been a Turk.   I wouldn’t say that he slunk off, exactly, but he abandoned his perch on Barret’s shoulder to take refuge with Yuffie.  I immediately decided that Vincent was my new best friend, because if hanging with him meant the two noisiest members of the team kept their distance, then that was worth the dark vibes he gave off.  

Okay, not my best friend.  That’d be the vivid-eyed girl with the sweet mouth and pensive expression currently holding hands with Aerith instead of me.

“It’s cold in here,” Yuffie whined, and the rest of the group trooped off outside, taking Vincent with them, but I decided to check the rest of the Mansion just to make sure we didn’t miss anything useful.  Scoring a few more items in the vandalized rooms – Barret must have emptied every clip in his magazine - I stuck my nose into the ruined library.  Part of the roof was missing and the room was full of collapsed bookcases and rotting volumes.  Loose pages were everywhere, spattered with the leavings of mice and birds; it stank of decay and despair.    

Sephiroth literally appeared out of nowhere, stepping out of the shadows into a clear space between two crazily-tilting shelving units... and smiled in a way that sent unpleasant sensations slithering up my spine.  “This place brings back so many memories, eh, Cloud?” he murmured, gesturing elegantly.  “Fitting that the Mansion is the starting point for the Reunion.”

“Nightmares, you mean.”  I drew my sword, dropping into a defensive crouch.  “What the hell is the Reunion, and what does it have to do with me?”

He arched his eyebrows, smirking faintly.  “Go north, if you wish to find out.” His hand snapped and a projectile smashed into my forehead... and that’s all I remembered until Tifa Cured me out of a concussion.  As soon as I opened my eyes, she proceeded to thoroughly kiss me.  

This morning, she’d been all awkward and shy, hastily buttoning her pyjama top before quickly pecking my cheek; I proceeded to remind her that we’d moved beyond that level the previous night and I wasn’t going back. She was breathless and pink-cheeked when I let her go, but then kissed me again with a fair amount of enthusiasm.  It had been a great start to the day, and I admit that I swaggered for Barret’s benefit when we finally emerged from behind the privacy screens.  The scowl he wore for the next couple of hours had been highly gratifying.

Once Tifa pulled back, obviously checking my eyes before relaxing, I clued in and smiled crookedly.  “Another ‘green’ moment, huh?”

Nodding, she gently touched the spot on my forehead that still hurt like hell.  “What did Sephiroth do to you?”

Sitting up, I urgently demanded, “Did he attack you?  Wait... did I attack you?”

“No, and no.  We saw him fly out of the Mansion’s roof and head north over Mount Nibel.”

Wincing, I probed the tender area.  “He nailed me with something... a rock, maybe?”

“I thought I saw something....”  Tifa twisted onto hand and knees, crawled over to a bookcase and ferreted underneath it.  “How about a materia?”

I enjoyed the way her snug trousers moulded to her ass before she tossed me Sephiroth’s second gift.  “Destruct, huh?  Interesting choice.”

Tifa scooted back across the filthy floor and hesitantly reached for my hand.  “Based on what happened on the cargo ship, I would’ve expected your eyes to be fully green after an encounter with Sephiroth – but instead, they only had a rim.”

“So I should let Sephiroth knock me out?”  I grinned at her appalled expression and squeezed her fingers.  “If it keeps me from being an ass to you, I can live with that.”

At that moment, we heard Barret bellowing from the foyer.  “Yer ten minutes are up, Tifa!”

“We’re coming!” she called back.

“Not often enough,” I muttered and was swatted in the gut by my blushing brawler; I was still slightly winded when we rejoined the others.

Yuffie pushed off from the side of the buggy, Cait squeezed into the narrow space on her shoulder between her head and her arm guard.  “Not that I’m in a hurry to get back in this thing, but are we going soon?”

“In a minute,” I replied, rummaging through my pack.

“You don’t seem like the type to be packin’ heat,” she commented, snooping over my shoulder as I extracted the handgun I’d acquired in Kalm.  

Making sure the Destruct materia was hidden deep in my spare socks, I replied, “I used rifles when I was an infantryman; thought it might come in handy.”  Hefting the handgun, I walked over and offered it to Vincent as he stood silent and wary on the edge of our group.  “It’s called the ‘Peacemaker’.”

Vincent smiled wryly; at least, I think he cracked a grin.  Hard to tell with that high collar hiding most of his face.  “The ‘peace of death’, I assume.”  The golden claws on his gauntlet clicked softly on the metal as he sighted down the barrel.  “Your generosity is appreciated.”  

“I still can’t get over Sephiroth having a mother... or Hojo a wife,” I commented.

Crimson eyes slanted my way.  “Not just any mother - the loveliest woman on the Planet.”

“Did Hojo force her into letting him experiment on her baby?”

“Lucrecia was also a scientist,” Vincent responded cryptically, sliding the gun into the holster strapped to his thigh.  

Glancing over at the girls, I was struck again by how they were clinging to each other’s hands so tightly their knuckles were white.  Nanaki was leaning against Aerith’s legs, offering tangible support in his own way, and her free hand was buried in his mane.  The three of them had poked around in other parts of the Mansion’s basement while I was charming Vincent out of his coffin, and something had really upset them; I made a mental note to corner Tifa later.

“We gonna hunt some Mount Nibel dragons, Spiky?” Barret asked, reloading his weapon.

“They’re very hard to kill and extremely poisonous.  You sure?”

“Fuck, yeah!  Nothing a Phoenix Down can’t fix, right?”

I considered his enthusiasm and the advantages of adding Armlets to our arsenal.  “Sure, why not?  We’re headed north anyways, and I could use a workout.”  Glancing up at Mount Nibel, I shook off the residual chill of our visit ‘home’.  “Let’s mosey.”

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