CloTi. AU. Something my twisted brain came up with. I don't own anything Square Enix does. Sorry for the setting and all. xD (Edited after proofread. sigh.)


There he is, sleeping. Now's your chance, Tifa, she thought to herself.

Tifa tiptoed to the sleeping form of the spiky blond and examined him. Dressed in black, his gentle breaths even and his hair were conspicuous as ever. His blade was leaning next to a pillar His flawless skin would even make other maidens out there shy, ache or die for him. Smiling, she brushed away a strand of hair away, revealing more of his face.

"Sleeping beauty doesn't wake up unless there's a kiss," she whispered.

When he sensed that the sunlight pierced through the holed roof and landed on his face, he grimaced a little and turned his head to a side, shielding himself from the sun. With the sunlight now reflected in his gold locks, she expressed a soft giggle and sigh. She was still in a somewhat safe distance from him.

"Why?" she heard herself ask. Loud enough for her to hear, she hoped.

She needed to extract it but what if she harmed him in the process? She absolutely loathed hurt in any form. It pained her with the thought of it. Like now. A surge of pain imploded itself in her head. Scowling, she rubbed her temples.

The headache can wait for now…

She lowered her hand to his chest and momentarily hesitated, biting her lower lip. The blond turned away from her and she instinctively pulled her hand back.

Great, now it is going to be hard to get it out…

Not quite, for she walked slowly to face his front at the other side of the bed. She kneeled down closely to him and matched her breath with his. The person in front of her was another form of life. Why does it have to be him? Why can't it be lodged inside a rock? What if she injured him? Or even worst, kill him? She shook her head furiously.

Now's not the time. Just take it and leave immediately.

"I'm…sorry if I hurt you," she whispered softly. No, that wasn't enough for her. Planting a delicate kiss on his forehead as an apology, she pulled her head away quickly and thrust her hand to his heart—only to be stopped in the very last moment which startled her. He suddenly opened his eyes, showing two clear blue irises.

He was holding her wrist firmly. Smirking, he pulled her closer to him as he said the words she never expected, "I am a light sleeper, you know."

Shiva, help me.

She cursed herself for having the comment she made earlier. 'Sleeping beauty doesn't wake up unless there's a kiss.' What irony. Wait, she did kiss him, not that it really mattered. Crap.

He had awoken. More exactly, he was already awake when she stepped into the room.

He's awake, he's deadly, he's hot—no, Tifa! Flee!

She yanked her hand away, glancing for the exit. He was in between her and the door, still smirking on the bed. He sat on the edge as she inched away from him. She looked around for an immediate distraction to throw at him.

Nothing.

Letting a barely audible "Tsch." flow, she found a suitable stance as she staggered up. He stood with ease, leaping backwards to the door and wielding his blade in the process. Grabbing the edge of the bed, she heaved it up and swung it to him. He sliced through it effortlessly and during that act, she gave a long leap over the bed and past him. She was out of the dreaded room at last.

Now, to escape form the effing tower.

An explosion boomed somewhere and made the whole building shook. He watched her disappear down in five and ten steps, half running and half jumping. Her long dark hair waved briskly behind her and her pants echoed throughout the tower, probably evading some falling debris.

How can she stand a winding stair like that? If I were her, …

He jumped from the top landing and landed two levels down in the opposite edge from his earlier spot. He continued zigzagging down without difficulty as Tifa hurriedly made her escape. It was still a long way down.

Realizing he was hot on her heels, she vaulted off her current landing to the void in the center. She landed gracefully, making ripples of dusts as she touched the ground, never making an impact to crush it. Although she was feeling pretty woozy, she leaped backwards as a precaution and his blade grazed suddenly against the stone floor.

He had watched in awe as she gave a jump and landing listlessly, frowning at his hovering shadow. How should he put it… it was elegantly launched. He pierced nothing afterward, missing her darting silhouette by inches.

From another door, an older blond emerged with his harpoon, shouting curses at the younger one. A dark-skinned man followed him. They were his comrades. And she was still alone in that chamber. Muttering a mild curse, she pulled her gloves on and readied her stance. The blond in front of her smirked as he pointed his blade at her. She should be able to stand a few blows or two.

A wooden window burst open and a flitting red figure stopped in front of the two older men. The three engaged in a fight of gunshots, pierces and yells—coming from the opposing two.

Great. Vincent's here.

Tifa's mood lifted a little. The whole building was rumbling louder now. The two charged towards each other. Tifa blocked most of his blows for he didn't give her any chance to evade. Even if he did, it was only slight and others could be counted as flukes. She managed to land a few kicks and that was it. They were evenly matched, blocking and dodging.

She was pretty grateful to the metal plated arm guard on her gloves. Parrying the heavy slash he gave her, she crashed to the only exit door, unhinging it as she came in touch with it.

Dusts spiraled around them both, veiling one from another. Tifa caught sight of the arranged displayed knight armors and pulling the whole rack with her, she blocked the entrance. She ran once again, to the long bridge and the gate. The gate was their rendezvous.

Yuffie's face lifted when she heard the sound of shoes tapping on the cold hard stone. Before she could even say a word, Tifa yelled, "Yuffie, gates!" as she made a quick hairpin turn to help her push the single half of gate to close.

The tall gates were heavy rusting monstrosity, refusing to budge without force.

Tifa calculated their distance from their predator. The gate was moving slowly. Tifa exerted all the strength she could muster and drove it forward to a halt. Now the other half!

Their enemy, clad in pure black was getting closer.

The two girls heaved it hard.

Yuffie lost her concentration as she panicked, almost affecting Tifa. Vincent appeared startlingly and grabbed the gate as he shoved it, helping the two girls with the gate.

Clang!

"Split," Tifa ordered. They must not be caught. Yuffie vanished with Vincent as mysteriously as he appeared earlier. She wound the chain that was hanging loosely around the knob, tugging it hard.

It was only for a split second but it amazed her—the spiky blond hacked away the gates and chains and everything crumbled before him, creating a small vortex of air all around him. It reminded her of her cousin and his friend who loved swordplay to death.

Sephy and Genes—

A gust of wind exploded and Tifa plunged back as a result and hit the ground hard. That impact increased the inner pain in her head and her vision was blurring. Sensing that her foe was approaching her with his sword propped, she raised her right arm, a vain attempt to shield her from any pain inflicted and to swat away the blade.

He slashed; not meeting any resistance, apart from the hand she raised which surprised him. She was in an uncomfortably half sitting posture, the left elbow supporting her upper weight as she clutched her forehead. The sharp pain between her forefinger and her thumb burned and blood trickled down to her elbow.

Damn, that stings…

She couldn't tell which hurt more; the searing pain in her head, her back, or the wound. She laid down in defeat, breathing heavily. She pressed her damaged hand onto her chest—where her heart should be. If he wanted to take hers, he was more than welcome to, she scoffed, grinning. He would never find it within her, no. It was already taken out, and put in a place which was obvious and safe.

Maybe the headache is the side effect…

"Are you going to give up?" he questioned. She was full of life, countering him all the way but now he found her defeated. He bent down to her, almost straddling her.

"Do I look like I'm giving up now?" she grinned. Her breaths were accompanied by coughs. She swore she hated dusts for making her cough. Or maybe that was another side effect. She couldn't care less.

"No," he answered, smirking. He lifted the injured hand and tugged the glove off with his teeth and tucked it in his pocket. "I'll have this for a memento."

"What can you get from that?" she sighed. Her vision slowly cleared and the headache faded in time.

"Memories." He impaled the earth with his blade next to her neck vertically and didn't let go, a threat to run it through like a guillotine if she tried to do anything. He licked the blood from her elbow up to the source. Gently nibbling the area around it, he acquired a moan from her. His tongue flicked softly, teasing her with pressure on the burning cut.

He saw her panic as her left hand searched for something, anything, to what? She couldn't escape him in that position, right?

Wrong.

Tifa swiped her left hand, shoving his right hand off his sword, taking him by surprise. She tore away from him, running to the woods and hiding in the shadows.

No, I shouldn't stop.

Her headache returned.

"Tsch." She gritted her teeth at the flaring sunlight filtering through the dense, cool leaves. She exited the forest the moment after and was greeted by a cliff. The drawbridge was pulled back and all the other means of crossing were snapped off. She took a few steps back.

Can I jump?

"Don't try to jump. You'll only fall," he warned and emerged from where she did just now.

"I can see that," she pouted slightly. She licked her remaining blood on her hand clean. She frowned when he saw and smirked at what she did.

"I can see you were trying to," he shrugged. He noticed that she kept glancing to the direction of the source of the cool wind. As he took slow and steady strides forward, she inched little by little to the edge. She stopped at the very little space she got, looking straight to her right.

The wind feels right…

Without warning, she let her body weight draw her rearward and fell into the abyss.

He watched in horror and was a little too late in trying to seize her hand—anything, to pull her up and he failed to do so. No! She didn't even flail or try to haul herself up!

Oddly enough, her face was calm as her wine eyes bored deeply into him—like she was able to see his innermost thoughts.

Tch. What is she thinking?!

A hazy blur of black and red zipped through the air, to her falling profile. Carrying her up to the sunlight, a black winged person floated, glaring at his direction. Another shadow tore to them. Clad in black leather and his silver hair glistening and flowing effortlessly as his wings beat the air, Sephiroth gave the stunned blond the dirty look.

"Don't kill him, Sephy," Tifa managed to tell him in a low voice. Sephiroth nodded nonchalantly.

"I have no need to kill someone who spared you," he noted and added, "But, if he so much as dared to harm you again…" Sephiroth pulled his sword from its scabbard and pointed it in the younger male's direction. "He will answer to me."

"Of course, he will," Tifa coughed. The headache was killing her. "Right, Cloud?" She gave him a shadow smile. He said nothing, puzzled. How did she know his name? He could have sworn they didn't give their self-introduction in their fight.

Sephiroth and Genesis flew northwards.

"Have you two returned everything to normal?" she asked Genesis, barely a whisper.

"Yes."

"Good. We'll spare him… So don't come here anymore and start swinging your swords," Tifa chuckled under her breath. She winced a little in the intense pain her head submitted her into.

"You okay?" Sephiroth asked. He detected her slightly pained face.

"Of course. I'll need to take back my Core. Couldn't live without it." She sighed.

She would tell the elders that she refused to follow their orders anymore. The rivaling members were quite…compassionate. It was always her weakness and she too, owned it. Those who have a heart would understand. If they rejected her request, she would have to demote them and have them beheaded.

The two winged males nodded in comprehension and drifted to a far-off distance with her.

Still dazed, light pattering feet and heavy boot thuds ran up to him. The brunette healed his bruises. His spiky black haired friend shook him out of his reverie.

"Hey, Prince Cloud. What'cha doin' here with your sword?" Zack playfully tackled his friend. Cloud didn't answer instead he stared to the blue sky.

"He's probably training," Aerith giggled. "Look at his clothes. It's all damaged. And I patched him up."

"No. I was fighting the intruders. Ask Barret and Cid if you will," Cloud frowned.

"Cid and Barret were in their quarters," Zack shrugged.

How can that be? They were fighting that gunman earlier…

Cloud rushed back to his tower. Everything was back to normal. The gates were still intact and his castle in perfect condition, dusty and old.

"You still live in that thing? One of these days, you'll find yourself buried in it." Zack laughed. Aerith scolded him. The couple went to the direction of their castle.

No… That wasn't a dream.

He remembered how she brushed away his hair when he pretended to sleep, how she whispered words of pure innocence—of sleeping beauty. He remembered how she softly laughed in her lovely voice and how agonized it sounded when she questioned 'why'.

He remembered how close to tears she was when she apologized and how gentle her kiss was, as if not to make him break. He remembered the bruises she landed on him (and Aerith healing them). He remembered how deadly beautiful she was. He remembered her scent, the feeling of rusting iron still fresh in his mouth—her blood.

He still remembered everything about her. (Though, he suspected that Cid and Barret forgot all about the intruders judging from the situation).

He harnessed his sword and shoved his hands into his pockets, only to feel a familiar leather material with metal plates on it. Her bloodied glove, the one which he wanted as a memento.

He was sure that it definitely wasn't a dream, wondering when he would see her again.