Gone Daddy Gone
for MintBanana
Merry Christmas, dear. Hope this brightens your day a little.
Note: Never fear, readers. I live. This story will be complete in three parts and was done as a gift for MintBanana, on the Genesis Awards Gift Exchange.
PART I
The blonde, blue-eyed angel at the bar winked at Tifa as he took his drink. She watched his hips swing as he sauntered over to the jukebox and started clicking through the selection. His jaunty foot-tapping swung his buttocks in quite the provocative manner, and Tifa found herself caught up in staring.
Suddenly realizing her actions, she shook herself. Cloud, she thought. Cloud is my...boyfriend. I think.
She had been having this problem a lot lately.
"Tifa... you okay? You look a little... spacey."
"Hmm? What do you mean?"
Yuffie stared at her, eyes unusually shrewd. "Well, uh." And for once in her life, Yuffie was, thankfully, subtle. Because if anyone had heard her next statement, Tifa might have clawed through the floorboards and dug herself an early grave right then. "You're starin' at that guy's ass, Teef. I mean," she said, at seeing Tifa's twisted mouth and wide eyes, "I'm not one to judge." She held up her hands, placating. "I just... I just noticed, is all!"
Tifa blushed, mortification infusing her. "Oh, Yuffie, can we... can we please just not talk about this?"
Yuffie's dark eyes darted from side to side, making sure no one sat in range of hearing. Thanks to her sharp elbows and pinching fingers on previous visit to Seventh Heaven, the most regular male patrons of the bar tended to stay far away from her.
"Look, Tifa, I'm not one to pry – "
"Yuffie."
"Okay, okay, I am. You got me. Red-handed. Fingers in the cookie jar. With my pants dow – "
"Yuffie."
"Well, what I mean is. Tifa... you've kinda... been doing that a lot... lately."
"Doing... what?" Tifa's wine-dark eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"
"You've been looking at other men a lot." Yuffie stared, eyes big and inquisitive, guileless. If it seemed interesting, Yuffie would not hesitate to ask.
Tifa looked away, chewing her bottom lip. So someone had noticed.
"Is something going on with you and Cloud?"
"No..." She really did not want to talk about this. Really.
"Okay..." Yuffie said, not entirely convinced. Tifa could see the glimmer in her friend's eyes. This would not the be last she heard of this conversation.
And true to form, Yuffie pursued it. The next weekend, Tifa found herself washing dishes after closing on a busy Saturday night, trapped in work while Yuffie verbally barraged her with questions.
"So... what is it, Teef? Is it that you've realized you're madly in love with my hot bod? I understand. All those sweaty battles, covered in grime and the sheen of battle. You must've realized sometime after Meteor, when I grew into my new, womanly curves and – "
"Yuffie, you have the curves of a one-way street."
"Heeeeey... it's a little better than that!"
"Fine. A twig."
"There we go."
A beat. Tifa scrubbed the mug in her hand hard, doing her level best to avoid Yuffie's gaze. "Could you, maybe, help me out and clean the bar with me if you're going to hang around after closing?"
"Sure thing."
Three second, awkward silence. Then Yuffie's voice broke in like a jagged piece of glass. "So that's it, right? You've realized your lesbian feelings for me?"
"As alluring as you are, as irresistible as I find your scabby knees and bad fashion sense – "
"Says the woman wearing leather head-to-toe. In a bar."
Tifa plowed onward, ignoring her. " – no, I have not realized my lesbian love for you."
"Darn. And here I thought I would finally get into your pants. Um. Skirt."
Tifa hummed a merry tune, resolving to ignore Yuffie.
"Eh, it was a dumb stab in the dark anyway. You were staring at that hot blonde dude. I just thought maybe you were bi."
She cranked the volume on her humming.
"That's okay. I'm not interested in you anyway. Your tits're too big. They'd get in the way of everything. You're out of luck, too."
Tifa thought briefly about stuffing the cleaning rag into her ears, germs and all.
"Out of luck, I mean, 'cause Reno asked me on a date. And I'm into penis anyway."
She locked eyes with Yuffie, finally. "Reno asked you on a date!" she exclaimed, startled.
Yuffie nodded, looking like the cat that caught the canary. "Mmhmm. I asked him if the carpet matched the drapes. He told me the carpet got burned off in an explosion a long time ago."
"I... well. That sounds... delightful. You two will be very happy together, I'm sure," she said, trying not to explode with laughter.
Here Yuffie was, getting dates with ex-Turks, and Tifa couldn't even figure out her own relationship issues.
"Yeah, then he asked me if I wanted to see the scars, and I told him if he didn't shut up, I'd put his EMR where the sun don't shine and press the big red button, and he asked if that was a promise."
"And that means... you're going on a date?"
"Heck yeah it does. To the movies. We're gonna watch something with lots of explosions and tits so I can smack him when he makes gross comments."
Tifa tried not to envision their very-likely wedding in the near future. She could see it now. Little kids with Yuffie's maniacal grin, running around with hair like dead foxes glued onto their heads. The world would never be the same.
"Tifa, why do you look like you're about to throw up and cry at the same time?"
"What?" Yuffie stared suspiciously at her, and Tifa blinked, the picture of innocence. "Oh, no reason. I think my spaghetti's coming back on me is all."
"Mmhmm," and this time, Yuffie's eyes narrowed. "Tifa, cut the crap."
Tifa's dark head snapped up from her current fixation on her finger nails.
"Look, I know there's something wrong. You've been acting weird for, like, a month now. Maybe more since I wasn't here before that."
Tifa sighed. Despite Yuffie's attempts to look constantly silly, she actually proved herself to be very observant on many occasions. Like now. When Tifa least wanted her to be observant.
"Am I that obvious?"
"No, I just notice stuff. What's going on?"
Tifa swallowed, braced herself. "I think... I'm not... I mean, me and Cloud..."
"Oh, no," Yuffie breathed. "You don't mean..."
Tifa nodded, preparing herself for what she knew Yuffie would say next.
"... that you're a lesbian and you're in love with me?"
"Yuffie," she growled.
"But seriously, is the spark gone?"
And there it was. Just like that. Out in the open. Bada-boom, bada-bing. We have a winner.
"I think... I think it might be."
Tifa's gut wrenched just voicing it. She'd been thinking it for weeks. Wondering. Trying to formulate the thought in her mind. And Yuffie had done it in three seconds flat, with no hesitation. Well, your friends are supposed to tell you the truth, she figured. Even if it sucked. Sucked big fat flaming Jenova heads.
"Soooo... what're you gonna do about it?"
"What am I... what am I gonna do about it?"
Yuffie rolled her eyes and leapt onto Tifa's recently-cleaned bar, tracking dust. "Is there an echo in here? That's what I said. What. Are. You. Gonna. Do. About it?"
Tifa shoved her roughly off the bar. Yuffie landed on a stool with ease, looking for all the world as if she'd planned it that way. Tifa heard the way her knees banged the counter, though, and winced for her.
"I... I'm not sure. What can I do? I've tried to rekindle the romance, but..."
"But...? Tifa, he's still hot as hell. I mean, look at him, he's smokin'. In yonder days of my youth, I fancied myself quite smitten with fair Cloud." Yuffie hopped back onto the bar, then cocked her head like a cat, perching. "Hmm. Maybe you are a lesbian."
When Tifa's dirty rag hit her face, she gurgled.
"I'm not a lesbian, for the last freakin' time!"
"Okay, okay. But you do have a problem, you must admit."
"Yes, I suppose you're right..."
"Tifa. Your man drives a motorcycle, wears a bunch of leather, and swings around the biggest phallic symbol I've ever seen. I don't suppose you have a problem. I know. Where's the spark? Need a lighter?"
"Something's wrong, Yuffie. He's been distant lately, and he's been saying her name in his sleep, and he hasn't done that for years." Tifa dropped her head into her hands. "We haven't... I mean, he hasn't... it's been months."
"Ouch," Yuffie hissed. She slipped off the bar and came to hug Tifa around the shoulders. "That long, huh? I mean, if you want, I could lend you Reno, but he's horribly scarred and all, and you might barf all over his junk 'cause you're used to Cloud's shining golden perfection of manhood and you know what? Never mind. I feel inadequate now."
To Tifa's horror, tears started dripping from her eyes. Her face scrunched, and she tried to look away from her companion.
"There, there, let it all out. This shirt's machine washable." Yuffie's hand directed Tifa's head forcibly into Yuffie's bony shoulder. It felt... less than comforting, but Tifa appreciated the gesture. Mostly.
"So have you tried talking to him about it?" Yuffie's voice was light, pleasant—forced. The barmaid felt her friend's arms tighten around her as she cried, just a tad. Tifa knew Yuffie herself didn't like to cry, much less see her friends do it.
Her voice viscous with tears, Tifa replied, "Y-yes. He just says nothing's wrong, and that he can't control talking in his sleep. But something is wrong, Yuffie. I can sense it."
"Well, if he ain't gonna talk, I'll tell you what you need to do. You need to get a hobby, Tifa."
"A hobby?"
At Yuffie's smile, Tifa felt a deep, deep sense of dread.
As it turned out, "a hobby" meant "dancing." And "dancing" meant the most sexual sort of wriggling and slithering that Tifa had ever seen in her life.
It was called "tango," and the steamy geniuses in sultry Costa Del Sol had concocted it. Or so her teacher had told her. Tifa watched, mesmerized, as two of the more advanced dancers writhed over each other on the stage. They were sensual and hypnotic, and Tifa wanted, more than anything, to be able to dance like that. The urge struck her suddenly, leaving her breathless.
"All right, everyone," Julian, the teacher called, clapping his hands as the dancers struck a final, delicious pose. Sweat gleamed on their bodies, their chests heaving. Tifa stared, gulping. She wanted to, but she didn't know if she could. "Attention, please! This was a demonstration of the masters of this art. Tango is beautiful and historical, and I will not have you dishonoring my homeland with your clumsy ape feet. We'll start with the basics."
Tifa soon learned that her clumsy ape feet, no matter how deadly and graceful in the arena with Master Zangan, could not get the hang of Costa del Sol's signature dance. Two lessons later, she related this fact to Yuffie.
"What do you mean you have clumsy ape feet?"
"Yuffie, I dance like a Gongaga Frog. I can't keep doing this. Maybe I should take up knitting or something."
"Oh, yeah, that sounds like a great idea."
Tifa warmed to it quickly. "I can make scarves for when it gets really cold, for Marlene and for Denzel and for – "
WHAP!
Tifa lunged for Yuffie's retreating hand, in the mind to break some fingers in exchange for the ringing in her ears. Yuffie had quite the flat-hand slap.
"What's wrong with you? You have to be sexy! Sexy hobbies, Tifa, rekindle relationships!"
"So you signed me up for tango?"
Tifa and Yuffie snapped around to the door when a cheery voice said, "What the heck's a tango and why'd you sign Tifa up for it?"
"Oh, hi, Reeve," Yuffie chirped as Tifa wondered if maybe she could beat herself into a coma with one of these beer mugs. "Tango's Tifa's new sexy hobby."
"Oh, do tell," Reeve laughed, putting his chin in his hand, his grin crooked and warm. Tifa smiled at him, unable to stop herself.
"It's this totally sexy new hobby, and Tifa wants to go and ruin it by, like, knitting and shit. Reeve, tell her that's nasty."
"Tifa, that's nasty. Although, I guess knitting could be sexy. If you, like... knit lingerie."
Yuffie's face twisted into a very odd expression. "That sounds... itchy."
"All right, everyone, grab a partner, grab a partner. Assume the position from last lesson. Face each other, relaxed, torso up."
In a flurry of ruffles and colors, people partnered up. Tifa, however, found herself left standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, and she just barely kept herself from wincing. Last picked, just like dodgeball. Except when they picked her last for dodgeball, she gave them noogies. She couldn't give tango classmates noogies.
"Does everyone have a partner? Good, we can – "
"I don't have a partner, sir," Tifa said, her voice ringing clearly out over the twenty or so heads between her and the instructor. Julian pinned her with large, dark eyes, and cleared his throat.
"Very well. I shall be your partner for this session, Miss..."
"Lockhart. Tifa Lockhart."
"Miss Lockhart, I shall be your partner," he proclaimed, crossing the room to her and assuming the aforementioned position.
He instructed loudly, over her head, as the class listened with intent expressions.
"Men, take your right arm, and wrap it around your partner's back, like so. Don't squeeze her, don't grip too hard, and make sure your hand rests beneath her right shoulder. Ladies, your left arm on his right, in this manner." With a warm hand, the instructor positioned Tifa's arm upon his. "Make sure to keep your postures straight, and stand flush."
She stumbled as he yanked her into his chest, quick and business-like. But he stared down his nose at her, and she couldn't help but meet his eyes, transfixed.
"Remember, communicate with your bodies, people. As you proceed, you are one unit. You are not a man and his partner, or a woman and her partner, you are a single working organism."
His dark voice and his rich, del Sol accent enthralled Tifa as he used her as a human mannequin for his demonstration. How long had it been since a man had inspired such feelings in her? How long had it been since Cloud had inspired such feelings in her? Her gut tingled with the feeling of new interest.
"First, we must refresh you on the basic tango step. The most basic tango step, as you might remember, goes like this."
He pushed forward with his leg, lightly brushing Tifa's to get her to take his lead. "One. Two. Three. Four," he said slowly, moving them in a box formation.
"And now you," he addressed the class. Everyone followed suit. When they seemed to have remastered the step from last Tuesday's lesson, he nodded. "Okay, let us play a game. Who can do this the fastest and still remain graceful?"
In a steadily-increasing tempo, he called, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight," getting faster and faster with each repetition. And Tifa, with all the grace of a trained martial artist, fell into the increasing tempo with ease. For some reason, on the simplest, slowest demonstrations, she was bumbling, but up the challenge, and she had it down pat.
The hot skin of her partner felt almost painful against her shoulder. The faster they went, the more aware of his body Tifa became. She grew flushed, her heartbeat increasing until finally, mercifully, he called a halt.
"And... we are done here. Ladies and gentlemen, excuse me for this bit of ego, but I have to say, my partner did the best out of all of you. Though, to be fair, she had me as help," Julian smirked.
Tifa grinned with triumph. Her teacher stared down at her with dark eyes again. She struggled not to shiver.
"Hey, Tifa," Cloud said.
"Yes, Cloud?"
He smelled like the cold, like the outside, and like leather. The faint scent of exhaust emanated from his jacket. His hair looked even more ruffled than usual. Her heart squeezed with the yearning to touch him.
"Where you headed? Need a ride?"
Her eyes closed for a short moment. When had the distance between them begun? How long had it been? A month? Two?
"No, I'm fine."
A pause as she slipped on her gloves and her winter coat.
"You never said where you were going," he said, hesitant.
"Oh? Ah, I'm going out for a bit."
"You went out last Thursday too. I wanted to see if you, maybe, wanted to go with me to grab a bite to eat?"
She blinked, her back to him. A bite... to eat? Who did he think he was? He'd barely touched her for a month, been out at all hours of the day and night on "deliveries," and he suddenly wanted to walk back in like there was no problem?
"Ah, sorry, I have... plans."
A thought occurred to her suddenly – maybe Cloud had found someone else. After years of fleeting touches, inflamed encounters after his weeks on the road, tumbling into bed together. He had even said he loved her. More than once. Maybe... maybe he had found someone else?
Cloud had never been a talker. She knew no amount of prying would bring it out of him.
Well, she wasn't going to have it.
"I'll see you later," she said into the silence. He watched her with fathomless eyes as she strode into the cold.
Tifa did not know, but would find out later, that Cloud had followed her to her lesson, and he had spied from behind the fogging window as Tifa danced with her now-regular partner, the instructor. Julian.
His eyes narrowed, and he ran his bare fingers over the tiny parcel in his pocket.