Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Learning Curve Continuum ❯ Mirror, Mirror ( Chapter 9 )

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

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

A/N: Merrily twisting canon to suit my own nefarious purposes.  

Warnings: Ridiculous amounts of fluff and fanservice with a tiny bit of plot progression, plus partial nudity and sexual situations.

Bouquets to my wonderful betas, Kitsune13/TamLin and Ranuel.

Learning Curve Continuum
Chapter Nine: Mirror, Mirror
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When Tifa disappeared into the bathroom, I had to close my eyes and just breathe for a few seconds to calm my racing heart.  I couldn’t believe that she’d agreed to stay with me and I didn’t want to blow it by coming on too strong.  First, to make things more difficult in case ShinRa decided to do something stupid, I jammed a sturdy-looking chair under the door handle before wondering if I dared strip right down with Tifa in the same bed.  I pulled that gambit when we were still in Midgar, but there wasn’t much chance of anything getting out of hand that night.  We were in Aerith’s bed, with Mrs. Gainsborough across the hall, and besides, Tifa lost nearly everyone she cared about only a few hours before.  Only a real jerk would’ve tried anything and I was trying to be better than that.

It’s so damn hard, though.

When she really gets into a kiss, like the way she did on the Gondola, I swear my brain instantly engages ‘lust’ mode and all I can think of is exploring more of her incredible body.  Those little breathy sounds she makes when my tongue is inside her mouth?  Huge turn-on.

The temptation to get naked just to see if she might be interested in going a bit further was strong because we were really, totally alone, but there was a part of me that didn’t want to risk scaring her.  Swearing in frustration, I shucked my clothing and folded it neatly on another chair – but kept my boxers.  Not that they did anything to camouflage my state of mind; Tifa would probably lock herself in the bathroom if she saw the very hard evidence of my thoughts.  

Folding down the blankets, I again swept the mattress and the bed frame for trip wires or triggers of any sort.  With my luck, I’d roll over and set off something that would dump both of us into a dungeon – and me without any weapons except my attitude.  Tifa would have to save my ass, and that would wilt my ego, among other things.  Finding nothing, I slid between the sheets and settled back among the lace-trimmed pillows to wait.  After several minutes of relaxing in that luxurious bed, which seemed designed solely to inspire erotic scenarios, I was about to call out to Tifa when the bathroom door opened… and I briefly forgot how to breathe.

Not one of those flashy Honey Bee girls in their lacy scraps and come-hither pouts could hold a candle to Tifa in a classy floor-length nightgown and a shy smile.

I realized I was gawking when her demeanour changed subtly from confident to something more akin to fawn-about-to-flee.  I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to catch her if she bolted, so I re-hinged my jaw and blurted out the first word that popped into my mind.  “Beautiful.”  Tifa turned a becoming shade of pink and some of the tension left her stance, but her fingers were busy twisting into the end of her braid.  Sitting up, I held out my hand as she crossed the room, and while she laid her fingers across my palm, I openly admired her, making her blush deepen.  “Show me the back,” I requested.

Tifa has awesome breasts, of course, but it’s her rear view that really gets me going.  All those years of martial arts training gave her incredible legs and a tight, round, amazing rear end, and the nightgown seemed designed to showcase my favourite part of her figure.  Skinny straps criss-crossed halfway down her back, creating a diamond-shaped, lace-edged frame for those two sweet divots just above the swell of her behind.  The thin fabric below clung alluringly to her curves, and I was highly tempted to kiss both of her cheeks, but instead nuzzled the bare skin above.  She inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away.

Emboldened, I lightly gripped her waist, more to steady myself than anything as I rolled up onto my knees.  Placing a kiss on either side of the strappy ‘x’, I brushed aside her hair to plant one right between her shoulder blades.  Tifa was holding very still, apparently not breathing, so I pressed a final kiss to the crest of her shoulder before releasing her and hiding my erection under the sheets.  When she turned to look at me, I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.

Her answering smile was a little uncertain, but she didn’t refuse when I pulled back the blankets in invitation.  She bit her lip – Shiva, she kills me when she does that – but accepted all the same.  Moving back to give her more room as she carefully arranged herself beside me, I admired the picture she made, her dark hair and deeply-hued nightgown contrasting dramatically with her creamy skin and the pale linens.  What really got me, though, were her feet.  The glimpse of her bare toes swathed in rich lace and silk somehow made her seem more vulnerable, and when those slim feet began rubbing fretfully against each other, I realized that I was probably making her more nervous than was necessary.

Reluctantly covering her up, because the way the soft fabric draped was pretty damn delicious, I carefully tucked the blankets around her shoulders and settled in beside her.  Tifa’s eyes were wide and dark, her mouth soft, and my control – or lack of it - really became an issue.  In an attempt to distract myself, I brought up something that had been eating at me all night.

“Do you know who I remind Aerith of?”

Her hand found mine under the blankets and squeezed.  “You know about her first boyfriend, right?”

“The other SOLDIER.  The pink guy.”

“The pink guy...?”

“Ever since I saw her bedroom, I’ve thought of him as the ‘pink guy’,” I admitted.

She giggled.  “Funnily enough, he was a ‘pink guy’ – sort of.  She wears that pink dress because of him.”

“Well, I’m not,” I growled.  “I’m me... right?”

Tifa’s expression softened and she nestled closer.  “There’s only one Cloud Strife,” she whispered, stroking my cheek.

“But then why would she say I’m ‘exactly’ like him?” I grumbled while shamelessly enjoying the ego-boost.

“For example?”

“The way I walk, for one thing.”

“You do tend to swagger....”

“Not intentionally!  That sword’s damn heavy!”

“Strut, then?” she cheekily suggested.

“You’re making me sound like a Chocobo rooster.”  As I mock-glared, Tifa grinned mischievously and ruffled my hair.  “Hey!”

“You have to admit that there’s a striking resemblance,” she teased.

“Whatever.”  I pouted, and Tifa obligingly kissed away my pique; I took the opportunity to slip my arm around her.  She cuddled into my shoulder; we took a few moments to rearrange ourselves until we were comfortably entwined.  Sighing contentedly, I hugged her close.  For a night that started out less than promising – that stupid play was absolutely lame - I couldn’t complain about how it ended.  However, something else that Aerith said was still bothering me.  Running my fingers over the intricate braiding in Tifa’s hair, I murmured, “Aerith also said that she wants to meet ‘me’... what the hell did she mean by that?  I was sitting right there, for Shiva’s sake!”

Tifa went very still, then propped herself up on one elbow to look down at me; I caught the shadow that flitted across her expression.  However, she smiled genuinely enough as she answered, “She’s never really had a chance to see this side of you – she only knows the arrogant guy who’s always bossing us around.  Maybe that’s what she meant?”

“I’m not bossy... you try herding cats for a day,” I scowled.

“We’re not the easiest bunch to deal with,” she solemnly agreed, “and we rely on you perhaps a little too much to get us out of whatever trouble we find ourselves in.  You really are our ‘knight in shining armour’.”

Even though the following kiss was very sweet and highly enjoyable, that phrase made me think of Nibelheim, and then I remembered how stressed she and Aerith had been the day Vincent joined us.  “What did you find in the Mansion’s basement?”  This time, Tifa froze before shuddering violently; there was no hiding that reaction.  “Did something attack you?” I demanded sharply.

“N-no... well, a few Black Bats, but Nanaki took care of them.”  She bit her lip again; this time the action didn’t sidetrack me.

“Tell me.”  

Exhaling heavily, Tifa seemed to find the scars on my chest highly interesting.  I stifled my impatience because it was obvious that she was gathering her thoughts, and they were very upsetting.  “We found an abandoned laboratory,” she finally murmured.  “There was debris everywhere and... and rotted pieces of... things... that Nanaki identified as formerly human.”  The horror in her voice wrapped icy fingers around my guts.  “There were also huge test tubes, big enough to hold a man....”

The chill abruptly spread through my entire body, and I knew.  “I... was kept in one of those,” I whispered thickly, shivering in the grip of some sort of visceral memory as I turned my head away.  “What if... I’m a monster?”  I couldn’t look at Tifa, afraid of what I might find in her expression.  Pity or disgust or horror - I couldn’t handle seeing any of them in her vivid eyes.

“You’re not.”  Her tone was so fierce that I looked back before I could stop myself, and was pinned by her blazing glare.  “You’re not a monster,” Tifa repeated determinedly, as if by saying it, she could make it so.

“I hear voices in my head, sometimes my eyes turn green and I attack people I care about,” I flatly replied, trying to keep my panic under control.  “Someone once told me that SOLDIER is like a den of monsters, and to not go inside - but I did anyways.”

Tifa trapped my face between her palms.  “The only difference between a hero and a monster is in how they use their power – for good or for evil.”  One of her hands slid down, coming to rest over Sephiroth’s mark.  “You carry a permanent reminder of that difference... and I don’t believe that you’ll ever cross that line.”

I stared up at her for a long moment before choking out, “How can you believe in me so strongly?”

“Why is it so hard to believe that I do?” she asked gently.  

I pulled her down, pressing her to my heart.  “I hope you’re right,” I mumbled into her hair.  Tifa’s reply was to start kissing her way across my chest, following the scars carved into my flesh.  “Wh-what are you doing?” I managed to ask, the tender attention bringing my thoroughly-deflated arousal back to life.

Tifa looked up, giving me a fantastic view down her cleavage.  “Do you want me to stop?”

“Hell, no!”  Her smile was a little bashful before she returned to distracting me, and I closed my eyes to concentrate on the sensations.  Shiva, it was fantastic, and I momentarily lost all conscious thought except for how damn good it felt - until Tifa slid on top of me in order to explore the other side of my chest.  There was absolutely no way to hide my erection, but she didn’t seem to be put off by the hard length poking her in the belly - not that she wanted to make friends with it or anything, but she wasn’t trying to avoid it - so I relaxed again... until her lips grazed my nipple and my body involuntarily curled, as if trying to hold onto the stimulation.

“Is... something wrong?”

“N-nothing,” I managed to croak.  “’S all good!”  

This time she blushed, but continued with enthusiasm while I made appreciative noises, wound her braid around my hand and caressed her back while trying to not writhe too much - although it was harder and harder to control my reactions.  When Tifa nibbled her way up my throat to my lips, her incredible curves sliding over my hyper-sensitized skin, I lost it.  Gripping her ass, I yanked her hard against my crotch and frantically rocked my hips.  She exhaled sharply, but she stayed in the kiss even when I practically shoved my tongue in her mouth.  And just when things might have become really interesting -

I completely and utterly embarrassed myself.  “Shit!”

“I’m sorry!”

I’m surprised my ears didn’t burst into flame because my face could’ve been used as a fire-starter, but I held onto enough sense to hang onto Tifa as I rode out my orgasm.  “This w-wasn’t your fault,” I gasped, holding her tightly as the fabric between us rapidly soaked through from my ejaculate.  “I g-got a little too excited.”

“Just a little?” she wryly asked, but didn’t try to wriggle free, despite the fact her elegant nightgown had been pretty much ruined by my libido; this was definitely not how I’d planned on getting her out of it, dammit.

Gentle fingers touched my face.  “Are you all right?”

“Yeah... aside from terminal humiliation,” I winced.  “Uh, sorry about your nightie.”

“It’ll wash.”  Pushing against my hold, Tifa raised herself on her elbows to inspect the damage.  

I grimaced again when I saw the damp stain spreading across her stomach, causing the silk to cling to her skin; her navel was clearly delineated.  “Damn.”

“No problem.  I’ll rinse it out, and it’ll be dry by morning.”  I didn’t expect the light kiss before she hopped out of bed and headed into the bathroom, but it went a long way to making me feel somewhat better about the situation... although I still wanted to beat my head against the nearest fake-stone wall.  Instead, I counted patterns in the lace canopy while more than just my skin cooled down.  

When Tifa popped back out of the bathroom, hairbrush in hand, it took me a moment or two to realize that she was only wearing her pyjama top... and that it was very, very short, just shy of indecent exposure, which cost me a few moments of inattention before I pulled myself back to what she was saying.  “... forgot to pack extra underwear, so I left my pyjama bottoms on the counter for you.”

I blinked rapidly.  “Your... pyjamas...?”

“It’s better than nothing,” she replied, seating herself on the other side of the bed and tucking her bare legs under the covers before starting to undo the fancy braid.

“Um... thanks?”

She grinned cheekily.  “You’re welcome!”

Keeping my hand over my crotch, because the threat of flowered pyjama bottoms hadn’t killed the boner caused by her appearance in the top, I sidled into the bathroom and closed the door.  Tifa had left the sink full of hot water, with a washcloth folded on the rim; I quickly stripped and cleaned up, then rinsed my boxers and hung them over the shower rail next to her dripping nightgown.  I snivelled a bit, thinking about how enticing she’d looked in it, before contemplating the neatly-folded pile of flannel.  Sighing, I shook out the bottoms and put them on; at least they had a drawstring waist.  They were closer-fitting than I would have liked, not to mention extremely girly, but Tifa was right – they were better than nothing, and despite my earlier bravado, I wasn’t going back out there buck-naked.

When I walked into the bedroom, Tifa positively smirked at my appearance.  “Don’t say a word,” I sternly ordered.

“Okay.”  And then she had the nerve to laugh, the brat.

I shot her a glare, then noticed that she was having trouble deconstructing the braid.  “Need help?”

She huffed and looked sheepish.  “Yes, please.  I swear that Yuffie must’ve tied knots!”

Edging my knee between her bottom and the pillow, I eased onto the mattress behind her; she obligingly scooted forward to make room and tilted back her head.  “Are you sure this isn’t some kind of obscure Wutain torture method?” I asked, carefully working my fingertips into the tightly-braided strands.

“Could be... ow!”

“Sorry.  Did she use glue on your hair, or what?”

“One of Aerith’s hair products.”  Sighing in relief as the braids finally loosened, Tifa reached up to thoroughly rub her scalp while I fished around the blankets for her brush.  Working my way up the length of her hair and then stroking through the glossy strands several times, I grinned when she emitted a contented hum and her shoulders relaxed.  “Thank you,” she murmured.

“No problem.”  I dropped her brush into her lap and slid out from behind her.  By the time I circled the bed to climb in on my side, Tifa was buried in the blankets, watching me with mischief in her gaze.  “Say something, and....” I threatened.

“And what?” she challenged.

I whapped her with my pillow, she let out a delighted squeal - and the fight was on.  Gleefully cackling, Tifa managed to straddle my waist and then thoroughly clobbered me with a rapid-fire attack featuring a pillow in each hand.  I could say I wasn’t trying that hard, but that’d be a lie; she’s a formidable opponent, even when she’s joking around.  

“Okay, okay – I give!” I finally yelped after I gave up trying to fend her off and instead covered my face.

Tifa was flushed and giggling, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her eyes bright when I peeked through my fingers.  Then she bent down and kissed me, and I decided I didn’t mind losing when the consolation was so sweet.  When she broke the kiss, she stretched out beside me and nestled close, her head on my shoulder.  Pulling up the blankets, I nuzzled her forehead and she sighed happily.  

As I snuffed the candles, Tifa murmured, “Good night, Cloud.”

Settling back into the pillows, my best friend drowsing in my arms, I had to agree – despite some ups and downs, it definitely had been a good night.

Spooning with a hot girl is an awesome way to wake up... so long as you have time to remove your appendages from any soft, curvaceous places that they might have wandered into before she wakes up.  Very, very slowly, I extracted my hand from where it was happily cupping her breast; Tifa murmured before settling into a deeper slumber.  Daring to breathe again, I draped my arm around her waist; warm, comfortable, relaxed, and really, really enjoying this closeness with my favourite girl, I wasn’t in any particular hurry to start the day.

Part of the reason I didn’t want to move was the delicious way she smelled; I was more smug than embarrassed that there was the slightest hint of me twining into the scent of her skin.  It was so light that possibly only Nanaki might be able to detect it, but I pouted at the thought she’d wash it away.  That gave me an idea which would probably get me killed – by both Tifa and Barret if they noticed.  The neckline of her pyjama top was just loose enough, so I first swirled my tongue over the nape of her neck to test how close to waking up she was.  She didn’t even twitch, so I set about marking her as mine by lightly sucking on the delicate skin until a small, gil-sized red patch appeared.  The hickey would be hidden by her hair, but I’d know it was there.

Pleased with myself, I hugged her close.  Tifa mumbled what sounded like my name, then nestled backwards into my embrace.  This move brought her bottom into full contact with my morning wood, which caused all sorts of issues because I sure as hell didn’t want a repeat of last night, especially since I was wearing her pyjamas.  I put some distance between us, but Tifa let out a discontented noise and followed until we were again pressed snugly together.  Then she shifted her hips a couple of times and the friction nearly drove me insane.  Forcefully breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth a few times, I managed to stave off disaster long enough for her to settle again.  Hastily rolling out of the bedding, I dashed for the bathroom.

When I came back about ten minutes later, much calmer after taking the matter in hand, I grinned at the sight of Tifa hugging my pillow.  Tucking in on her side of the mattress, I only had to wait a couple of minutes before she migrated back across the bed and into my arms.  She was pliant and clinging, winding herself around me in an intimate manner that would’ve caused all sorts of problems if I was still riled up.  Instead, I began stroking her hair while watching the fake rain trickling down the window, and those simple pleasures soothed me back to sleep.

Tifa woke me up about an hour later with a gentle kiss.  Her eyes were dark and limpid, her smile soft.  “Good morning.”

“With you?  Always,” I answered, twirling a silky lock around my finger.

Sighing contentedly, she murmured, “I really enjoy doing this with you.”

“Mm.  Nice to take a break from the crazy,” I agreed, fairly sure she wasn’t talking about her effect on my libido.  “As much as I hate to suggest it, we’d better get moving before Barret comes looking for us.”

“Darn.  I was hoping for a bath....”

“Go ahead – the door’s barricaded.”

Kissing me again, Tifa slid out of bed and scampered into the bathroom.  She left the door open, so I could hear the water running in that gaudily-clawed tub, and then muted splashing sounds as she settled herself.  I had just begun imagining how she looked, all slick and glistening, which wouldn’t have ended well for either the sheets or her pyjama bottoms, when she began singing in a low, throaty voice.  She definitely didn’t realize that the tiled bathroom amplified the sound, because the song she chose was a naughty old-time ballad about a lovely maiden and a handsome lad getting up to mischief in a hayloft.  All our mothers seemed to know it and would bust out a refrain or two when they were feeling playful.    

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard Tifa sing, and that includes school recitals, because she concentrated on the piano; I’m biased, but if she’d performed at 7th Heaven instead of tending bar, the place would’ve been standing room only every night – followed by an awful lot of busted heads from me reminding the patrons that she was off-limits.  Folding my hands behind my head, I enjoyed my private concert by a husky-voiced songstress, even humming along with the last couple of bars.

“Do you want in?” she called, and my mind took an immediate swan-dive into the gutter until I realized she meant something entirely innocent.

“Uh, sure.”

She appeared in the doorway swathed in towels.  “It’s all yours.”    

“Wash my back?”  I teasingly asked as I passed her.

“Maybe next time.  Hurry up – I’m starving,” she briskly replied.  Busying herself with the knapsack and an armload of clothing, she missed my scowl at her brush-off.  Taking off the pyjama bottoms, I tossed them out into the bedroom before climbing into the tub.  The bag was placed just inside the door a few minutes later, with my spare sweater plus the rest of my clothes draped over the top.  Feeling rather grumpy, I quickly washed up and dried off.

Making a face at the way my damp boxers clung to my ass, I impulsively decided to go commando until I could replace them out of my luggage.  Rolling up the garment, I went to stuff it into the knapsack... but when I reached inside to make sure they wouldn’t soak through anything belonging to Tifa, my fingertip caught on something pointed.  Pulling out an envelope, I frowned at the note written on it in a dainty hand –something about drafty old castles and staying warm – before shaking its contents out onto my palm.  I nearly dropped the packets of condoms when I realized what they were; torn between surprise and keen interest, I then found the notes referencing my ‘sword’ and needling Tifa about ‘chickening out’.

The fact that the condoms had been hidden at the bottom of the bag spoke volumes.  Tifa didn’t ‘chicken out’, exactly – and I was suddenly sure that Aerith had everything to do with that sexy nightgown – but she definitely wasn’t ready for physical intimacy.

Still not enough trust. My aggressiveness last night had probably put her on guard, so I was determined to be better-behaved.

Replacing everything the way I found it, I hid the boxers inside my dirty sweater, figuring that it would act as a barrier to keep Tifa’s clothing dry.  Donning my clean top, I tucked it into my trousers and carried the knapsack out into the bedroom.  Tifa was dressed in the long skirt and top from last night, but barefoot on the thick rug beneath the table and chairs placed in front of the room’s window.  Outside, it appeared to be a real thunderstorm; the fake downpour matched my mood, with an imaginary little black rain cloud over my head.

Gesturing to the fancy basket sitting on the table, she said, “Breakfast was delivered to the door – tea?”

“Sure.”  Setting down the knapsack, I seated myself across from her and checked out the spread.  Selecting a crescent-shaped bun and splitting it open, I appreciatively inhaled the aroma of warm bread and immediately felt a little better.  The hot cup of tea Tifa set in front of me a few seconds later also helped, so by the time I’d added a spoonful of jam to the bread and munched my way through it, I had regrouped. With a cup of decent tea at my elbow – Cid’s usual morning brew could strip paint – and a pretty girl serving me breakfast, I muttered, “I could get used to this.”  

“Staying in a haunted inn?” she teased.

Giving her a tolerant look, I replied, “Waking up beside you, eating breakfast together – stuff that normal couples do.”  

Tifa’s expression became solemn, and she began toying with her spoon.  The silence between us stretched, and I had a sickening premonition that she was about to give me the ‘just friends’ speech; my heart dropped like a stone.

However, just when my stomach knotted so tightly that I was afraid I was about to lose my nice meal, Tifa hitched her chair closer and reached for my hand.  Her fingers were cold and trembling, but she determinedly wove them with mine and squeezed.  Looking so sweetly sincere, she declared, “You’re my most precious person, Cloud. I’d give my life to protect you, but...  there’s something I need to tell you, and I’m afraid that it’ll upset everything....”

“Is it really that hard to say ‘I love you but I’m not ready for sex’?” I quietly asked, taking a wild stab at what I hoped was on her mind.

Tifa blinked rapidly several times, and then her eyes widened.  Her lips moved, but no words came out, and I figured that I’d hit the nail on the head - if not, I’d come close enough.  Since she was still speechless, I leaned in and softly kissed her on the lips.  Her response was warm, but just the tiniest bit hesitant, so I reconsidered an impulsive idea to move us onto the bed and thoroughly demonstrate just how much I cared about her.  Maybe I was moving too fast – we’d only met up again a few months ago after being separated for five years – but dammit, I wanted her.  Heart, hand and all the rest.  Breaking the kiss, I bumped her nose with mine.  “Tell me when you’re ready – really, really ready – to handle the full consequences of what you need to say,” I murmured, “Because it’ll be for keeps.”

“For... keeps?” she repeated, sounding dazed.  Nodding, I watched her expression change from awestruck to thoughtful to something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.  “I am afraid of the consequences,” she finally admitted, finding my chin rather interesting.

I sensed an undercurrent, like there was more than one conversation going on, but decided to stick with the obvious.  “It’s okay – I won’t push you to go further than you’re comfortable, but I think I made it clear last night that I want to be yours.”

“Yes, um, that was very, er, obvious,” she agreed, her cheeks turning almost as pink as mine.

“Thanks for not running away screaming,” I grinned, chuckling weakly.  When she laughed as well, the tension between us dissipated, and things were back to normal.   

We were descending the stairs hand-in-hand, Tifa’s light footfalls in the dainty shoes almost drowned out by the thud of my boots, when we spotted movement down in the lobby.

“What’s he doing?” Tifa muttered as we watched Cait Sith half-tumble down the last few steps, tripped up by a large, lumpy sack that was nearly as big as he was.  Dusting himself off and straightening his crown, the toy cat proceeded to drag the sack towards the entrance doors.

“Is he alone?” I asked, puzzled.

She leaned over the railing.  “Yes.  What do you suppose was in that bag?”

We figured it out at the same time.  “The Keystone!”

“That little bastard,” I snarled, shoving the knapsack into Tifa’s arms.  I had one hand on the railing, ready to make the jump, when she grabbed the back of my sweater.

“You don’t have your sword, so you need me for backup!” she insisted.

“Fine.”  Stooping, I slung her over my shoulder.  “Hang on.”  To her credit, Tifa didn’t say a word about my manhandling, just gripped the back of my belt as I took us over the railing.  Landing on the lobby’s tiled floor a split-second later, I set Tifa on her feet and snagged the knapsack.  Tossing it to the ghostly day clerk, I snapped, “Watch that,” and then we were in hot pursuit.

Tifa made it to the ‘graveyard’ before she cursed mildly and kicked off her girly flats.  Snatching them up, she easily kept pace with me in bare feet.  Catching a glimpse of our quarry’s red cloak disappearing into the Station tube, we dove after him.  “He must be heading for the Tram!” Tifa exclaimed a few moments later, when Cait was nowhere to be seen at the exit.  Dashing to the Entrance, we noticed right away that the Tram was still parked, so the cat couldn’t have escaped that way.

“Where could he have gone?”

“Up.”  Reversing direction, we galloped back to the Station and jumped into the Event Square tube.  “When we get there, you cut off his access to the exit tube.  He can’t go any higher, so we have him cornered.”

“Maybe I should have stayed down at the Entrance, in case he makes another try at the Tram,” she worried.

“Too late now.”

With the rush of air in our ears, we burst out of the tube at the top of the Saucer.  Tifa threw herself sideways to cover the exit, but it was unnecessary.  Cait was scampering up the staircase with the sack over his shoulder, showing no signs of difficulty with the height of the risers like he had in Nibelheim.  The menacing thunk-thunk-thunk of a helicopter gunship was suddenly very, very close – and me without a weapon, dammit – as Cait reached the top of the flight.  Tifa shouted something, pointing at the distinctive badge on the chopper’s fuselage, but the rotors’ backwash whipped away her words.  I grabbed onto her for balance as the chopper slowly dropped until its skid touched the top stair.  

The door slid open, revealing Tseng.  At his signal, Cait easily tossed the bag containing the Keystone up into his hands.  “Good work,” he called, and then the door slammed shut.  The gunship slowly spun on its axis, its assorted weaponry training on us; tightening my grip on Tifa, I prepared to dive for the exit tube when the gun barrels angled away and the chopper sped off into the pale desert dawn.

Snapping my attention to our furry fifth columnist, I slowly advanced up the stairs towards Cait Sith with Tifa right beside me, flexing her fists.  Cait looked remarkably unperturbed that he was about to be painfully interrogated; in fact, he had the gall to clasp his paws behind his head and lounge against a decorative plinth holding a statue of a fat Moogle brandishing a flimsy-looking bow.

“G’mornin’,” Cait coolly greeted us.  “Goin’ t’ be a fine day.”

“Not so good for ShinRa spies,” I snarled.

“Now, now, laddie – no need for idle threats.”  The grating accent abruptly disappeared, Cait Sith’s voice becoming smoother, deeper, and annoyingly familiar.   “We’ll be carrying on as before.”

“Like hell.  I’m gonna send you back to Rufus in pieces.”

Sadly shaking his head as he stood upright in those ridiculous red boots, he sighed, “I hoped I wouldn’t have to do this.”  Pressing the centre of his chest, he watched for our reactions as a voice filtered through hidden speakers.

“Daddy!  Daddy!”

“Marlene!” Tifa gasped.

“Tifa?”

“Marlene, sweetie – are you well?” she asked anxiously.

“Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s all right, squirt,” I said, doing my best to sound calm and reassuring, for both Marlene and Tifa’s sakes.

“Cloud?  Come get me, please!”

“Where are you?”

“In....”

“That’s enough,” Cait purred, tapping his chest and cutting off the transmission.  “I needn’t tell you that Marlene’s continued well-being depends on your co-operation, hmmm?”

“You bastard,” I gritted out.  Beside me, Tifa abruptly slammed her bare fist into the plinth, sending pulverized concrete showering down onto Cait’s head.  The cat made no comment, but I’m sure he got the general idea; if he didn’t, I drove the point home.

Wrapping my hand around the cat’s scrawny neck, I lifted the toy up to eye level.  Squeezing until I felt a servo or two pop while staring into its unblinking electronic eyes, I hissed, “If anything happens to that little girl, nothing will stop me from hunting you down and killing you very, very slowly and very, very messily – and trust me, that’d be a mercy killing next to what Barret will do to you.”  Dropping Cait at my feet, I turned to tend to Tifa.  Her knuckles were bleeding and her face was white with pain, but her eyes were burning with fury.  

“Come on,” I urged.  “We’re done here.”

She reluctantly let me lead her back down the stairs.  Taking her shoes, I crouched and slid them onto her feet.  Mindful of her injured hand, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into the tube.  Trembling violently, she buried her face in my chest as we dropped towards Station Square.  I stroked her back, but she wasn’t crying – she was shaking with rage.  “What do we tell the others?” she asked bitterly.

“To watch what they say around the asshole.”

“Don’t tell Barret about Marlene – he’ll lose it.”

“Agreed.”

I kept my arm around her as we headed back up to the Ghost Inn while she concentrated on keeping any bloody drips away from the flowing skirt.  In the lobby, we were greeted by a smirking Yuffie, but her expression changed the second she noticed Tifa’s hand.  “Yikes!  Can’t this guy keep you out of a brawl even on a date night?”  Tifa glanced up at me; I curtly nodded, and she went with Yuffie.  Collecting the knapsack from the bug-eyed clerk, I followed them up the stairs.

In the boys’ room, Cid appeared extremely content, his head wreathed in smoke and his hand wrapped possessively around a large teapot, so I guessed that he’d overridden Barret’s objections to make his morning rocket fuel.  The big man in question was giving me an impressive evil eye, obviously unhappy with my overnighter with Tifa, but I ignored him in favour of finding clean underwear.  “Cait Sith is a ShinRa spy,” I announced while rummaging through my bag.  “He stole the Keystone this morning and gave it to the Turks.  I’m open to suggestions as to where we might start looking for it.”

That certainly set the cat among the pigeons, as they say.  The only one who didn’t look surprised was Nanaki.  Well, Vincent, too - but I doubt anything short of a reactor explosion would rate a raised eyebrow.

“Wait jus’ a damn minute, Spiky!  What’re we gonna do about the cat?” Barret bellowed.

I thought fast.  “Now that we know what he is, his effectiveness in acting for ShinRa is reduced.  Just carry on as if nothing’s changed.”

“But now the fuckers know exactly where we are!”

“They have for a while – ever since we first acquired him.  Since they haven’t directly attacked us, I think they’re trying to use us to find Sephiroth.”

Cid took a long drag on his cigarette and slowly exhaled.  “So we don’t treat the cat any differently, despite the danger he represents?”

Keeping an eye on Barret, who was grumbling loudly to himself, I said, “There are extenuating circumstances.”  The other three seemed to catch my drift, even if they didn’t quite understand the full ramifications.  Ducking into the bathroom to avoid difficult questions, I quickly put on my underwear, then returned to the room to suit up in my armour.  Slinging my sword onto my back, I picked up both knapsacks.  “I’m returning this to the girls.  Be ready to leave by the time I come back.”

Nanaki followed me out into the hall.  “Cloud-san… about the cat.”  I gave him my full attention and he continued, “The scent of the ShinRa Tower clings to him, along with that of a human male.”

“So he’s direct from head office.  Anything distinctive about the scent?”

“It is sour.”  He furrowed his furry brow, searching for the correct words.  “Like the man was upset or angry when he created the cat.”

“Upset at us… or ShinRa?” I mused, contemplating the smooth tones of Cait’s ‘real’ voice.

“That I cannot determine through scent,” Nanaki said seriously.  

All of a sudden, I remembered where I’d heard the voice before.  “Reeve Tuesti,” I exclaimed.  “He seemed like the only one of President Shinra’s goons who actually had a conscience – he protested their plan to leave Sector Seven in ruins.”

Nanaki nodded, his expression thoughtful.  “I never saw him, but his name came up regularly in discussion in the lab.  Most of the staff appeared to think highly of him.”

“We have to hope that Reeve’s actually a decent sort, because he’s holding Barret’s daughter hostage.”

“Why did you not tell Barret-san?”

I gave him a droll look; he thought about it, then rolled his eye at himself before commenting, “What is that saying about keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer?  I shall be the cat’s escort from now on.”

“He’ll have to ride on you,” I warned.

Sharp teeth gleamed.  “All the better to keep him within range.”

Grinning back, I continued down the hall and rapped on the girls’ door.  Aerith opened it, looked me up and down, then extracted the knapsack from my hand.  “Give me a few minutes to pack this and we’re ready to go.  Tifa brought us up to speed.”  Hesitating a moment, she quietly added, “I’m sorry that your morning together was ruined by Cait Sith.”

“No worries… last night was awesome.  Thanks for setting everything up.”

A sunny smile bloomed across Aerith’s pretty face.  “I’m glad to help.”  She opened the door wider, revealing Tifa dressed in boots, slacks and sweater, her bare arms covered by gauntlets and gloves.  Shouldering into her knapsack, my girl also smiled, but hers was determined rather than bright.  Slipping her hand into mine, she squeezed, then stayed close while Aerith and Yuffie gathered the last of their things.  I nudged the crown of her head with my chin; when she looked up, I gave her a lingering kiss.  The other two were wearing blinding grins when we finally broke apart, and I couldn’t resist a cheeky smirk in response.

When we headed back down the hall to collect the rest, I heard Yuffie whisper, “We’ll be in that wedding party yet, ‘Cousin Aerith’!”
 
“I can’t accept Gold Points to pay for the damages, miss!”

“Why not?  They’re the currency of the Gold Saucer, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but....”  The day clerk’s shoulders slumped; for a ghost, she was awfully solid.  “We normally accept payment in gil.”

“Then you’re saying these Gold Points are worthless, despite their exchange rate with gil?”  Tifa was being polite, but I could see the steam trickling out of her ears.

“Well....”

“I would like to speak to the manager, please.”

“Mr. Dio is a very busy man....”

“No doubt having his ass buffed,” Cid helpfully chimed in.

Tifa smiled very sweetly and very dangerously; if I were the clerk, I’d be planning an exit strategy about now.  This gal had the sense to pick up the phone and make the call.  We only waited for a minute or two before Dio bustled into the lobby, mercifully wearing a bathrobe – but it was about the same length as one of Tifa’s miniskirts.

“Why am I not surprised that you’re involved in a complaint, boy?”

“Not this time,” I drawled, pointing at Tifa.  “The lady here wants to know why Gold Points aren’t considered legal tender.”

Dio stroked his moustache, giving Tifa his best oily smile.  “What seems to be the problem, miss?”

“We disabled the special effects in our rooms so that we could get some sleep, and I’d like to pay for the repairs with the Gold Points I won last night at the Chocobo races.”  Tifa was direct; I admired that in a woman.

“Ah... so you were the lucky young lady!  My staff was very impressed with your ability to pick the winners!”  Dio contemplated Tifa for a moment, glanced at me and then caved fairly gracefully.  “Of course we will accept your Gold Points!  The customer is always right!”

I quietly gagged as Tifa handed over her bulging wallet and informed the clerk of the three room numbers.  Dio cheerily wished us all a good day, and we finally escaped from the Ghost Inn.
 
Outside the lobby, we found Cait Sith sitting on the top step, kicking his heels.  He looked rather forlorn, but we clattered past as if he wasn’t there until Nanaki stopped.  Fixing Cait with a steely look, he offered to give the cat a lift so he wouldn’t ‘slow us down’; in contrast to his over-the-top act when Barret agreed to carry him, Cait bowed deeply and waited for Nanaki to crouch before scrambling up onto his back.

“Where we goin’ now?” Barret asked, plainly disgruntled.  Tifa and I were again holding hands, and he appeared torn between glaring at me and our resident spy.

“Like I said, I’m open to suggestions,” I replied, making a point of tugging Tifa closer to my side just to watch him glower.

“The Temple of the Ancients.”  Cait ducked his head under the weight of our suspicion, but gamely continued, “The Keystone is supposed to open the Temple, which is rumoured to have a connection to the fabled Black Materia.  ShinRa is hoping to lay a trap for Sephiroth and find the Promised Land at the same time.”

This dovetailed nicely with my own suspicions; as I mulled things over, my dormant Sephi-radar came back online with a vengeance and I actually staggered slightly.  ‘Instincts’, my ass – if I possibly shared Jenova cells with Sephiroth as a member of SOLDIER, then I had a connection to him - just like that retired SOLDIER and his inexplicable urge to dress in black… and possibly those poor bastards in Nibelheim, too.   

“Cloud?” Tifa asked quietly, her arm a steadying pressure around my waist.

Maybe the ‘Reunion’ had something to do with those of us who were treated with Jenova cells?  There was no doubt that the resurgent impulse inside my head insisted I head east; I decided to test it.  “Cait - where is the Temple of the Ancients?”

“East of here, on an island.”

That settled it.  “Lead on, cat.  We wouldn’t want to disappoint ShinRa... or Sephiroth.”

“I’ve jus’ ‘bout had enough o’ this shit!” Barret roared, firing off a barrage at a flock of hovering Slaps, but the creatures merely fluttered aside.  We’d already fought off a Tonadu plus several Dual Horns since landing on the island when the Slaps showed up at dusk.  The words were barely out of Barret’s mouth when the Slaps vanished.  “Fin’lly,” he grumbled, reloading his weapon while the rest of us took a well-deserved breather.

“Put your hands up!”

A squad of SOLDIERs, Third Class, poured out of the underbrush with their weapons raised.  Vincent instantly dispatched an officer in the back row, but that didn’t stop the men from forming up for an attack.

“Where’n the fucking hell did they come from?” Cid demanded wearily, pushing his goggles further up on his forehead and leaving dirty fingerprints behind.  “Can’t a body even have a goddamn cup of tea between fucking dust-ups?”  

“The Turks must’ve called fer back-up from Junon,” Cait exclaimed before yowling, “Whoa there, laddie!”

Nanaki tossed Cait off his back and charged into the formation, his body wreathed in flames; when the SOLDIERs broke ranks to avoid him, Cid and Vincent picked them off with lance and bullet.  Cait scrambled behind us to take shelter with Tifa and Yuffie, who were protecting Aerith.  Lurid cursing erupted from Barret as his gun-arm jammed; I covered him while he struggled to clear the blockage instead of fighting in the front lines, because I was preoccupied.  An insistent urge to keep moving towards the east was screwing with my concentration.  If I was right about having Jenova cells in my system, then the strength of this ‘pull’ meant Sephiroth was definitely in the vicinity, and I was worried about endangering my team by ‘going green’ if he showed up.    

“Take cover!”  My hair stood on end as power crackled behind me.  Aerith whirled her staff, preparing to unleash a massive spell, and we scattered as she let it fly.

Then one of the bastards used Reflect.

Tifa screamed a warning as she leapt in front of the other woman, and was promptly engulfed in fluorescing energy.  She crumpled to the ground and began struggling violently, as if she was mortally wounded – and I flipped out.  Fury roaring through my veins, I snatched a red materia out of my array and brandished it at our attackers.  

“Ifrit!”