AN. I have nothing to say initially, but I'm actually gonna use a disclaimer for once. Don't own em, mmkay? Mmkay.
"Though you've gone away this morning you'll be back again tonight,
Telling me there'll be no next time if I just don't treat you right.
You'll never leave me and you know it's true.
Cause you like me too much and I like you."
DING-DONG…
She mumbled and snuggled further into the man next to her.
…DING-DONG…
She could almost hear the persistence of the person outside through the tone of her doorbell. She growled a little. "Who shows up at people's houses so early?"
He laughed slightly and rolled over onto the spot she'd abandoned when she sat up to hastily throw on the nearest article of clothing. "Seriously. Don't they know better than to wake Sleeping Beauty at this hour?" He smirked but kept his eyes closed.
Tifa shook her head. She'd only started making a habit of waking up so late once he'd become a part of her sleeping arrangements. "Oh shut up," she said, hurriedly fastening buttons.
Of course, he wouldn't get up to answer the door. Oh no. But she wasn't bitter—he had the right idea, staying in bed. She probably would have done the same, except the person—she cringed as the bell sounded again—seemed like he wasn't going to let her go back to sleep anyway. She threw a pillow at him as she left the room, hoping it hit him in the face.
She glanced at the clock in her kitchen as she passed. Nine. So it wasn't that early. But it was early enough…
She opened the door, her curiosity unable to mask her irritability as she gave the visitor a pre-emptive glare.
Her eyes widened. Maybe shock would have been a more appropriate emotion. "…Cloud?" It figured he'd just show up at her house and then wait expectantly for her to say something. She fidgeted for a minute. "What are you doing here?" Maybe it was a harsh question, but she wasn't sure she knew how to handle what was going on.
He didn't answer her right away. He was looking at her intently, but… well below her eyes. What is he staring at? She crossed her arms over herself. Maybe she'd left a few too many buttons undone…
Then she realized she'd taken Reno's shirt to wear. It was obviously not hers, obviously belonging to a man… A man who was missing his shirt.
And he was eyeing her strangely once his brain made that calculation. "Barret told me you were living here now."
She was suddenly glad she hadn't disclosed to Barret who she was living with.
"Oh…" Tifa, you've got to say something more substantial than that! "I, umm…"
But he wasn't looking at her anymore. He seemed fixated on something over her shoulder.
Sleeping Beauty realized her prince must have arrived. She turned, wincing. She'd taken his shirt, but he didn't seem to feel the need for pants on top of what he was wearing. She was just lucky he'd put anything on at all.
"Tifa, who—ohhh…" His sentence faded off quite ineloquently as his mouth closed before he could finish.
She nervously watched them gaze at each other. This is so not good…
When Cloud turned to her, seeming to want an explanation, she quickly rounded on Reno. "Would you put some clothes on please?" she hissed.
"Oookayyy…" he gave Cloud a careful appraising look before turning on his heel. "Maybe you should too, huh?" he called from halfway up the stairs.
She blushed, now even more aware of her state of undress. And what was she supposed to tell Cloud? 'This isn't what it looks like'? It most certainly was what it looked like!
"…Tifa?"
"Umm…" Well she had to do something. "Cloud… come over here and sit down…"
OoOoOoOoO
Tifa frowned and drummed her fingers on the table. She was just wondering what was taking Reno so long—or if he was simply hiding upstairs—when she heard him walk into the kitchen behind her. In her peripheral vision, she could see him look around the room curiously.
"Is he here?"
"No."
"Oh," He paused for a second. "Where is he then?"
"I don't know. I asked him to leave," He joined her at the table. "He's um… coming back later though."
"…Oh."
Well that didn't sound good. A lengthy silence ensued. "You know," he said after a while, "I wasn't kidding about putting some clothes on." He stared at her pointedly.
She rolled her eyes with exasperation, fastening a few buttons to appease him. "It's not like it really matters." Due to traveling conditions and rooming circumstances while they were in AVALANCHE, Cloud had probably seen her in a lot less. Of course, it would be a terrible idea to mention that now.
He eyed her suspiciously. "Why doesn't it matter?"
It was probably a bad idea to say that too. "Well I mean…" Just had to open your big mouth. "It's not like just because he sees a bit of skin…" It was more than a bit, but she decided it was better not to get into it, even in her own thoughts. She faltered for a moment, hoping she was choosing her words correctly. "…It… it's not like he's going to do something." That had been proof-positive in her experience.
"Well maybe he wouldn't."
…What was that supposed to mean? "Are you saying that I would?"
"Face it Teef," When she finally looked up at him, she noticed he looked angrier than she expected. "You're not over him."
She blinked, mostly confused but even a bit hurt. "Where is this coming from? How am I not over him?" After all she had been through with him, how could Reno think she wasn't over Cloud?
"You told him to leave. Great. Good for you. But you told him he could come back."
"I—"
"And when's he coming back, huh? The next time I go out and you two have the house to yourselves?"
"Reno!"
It even sounded like the same kind of off-color joke he always made, but he'd always understood better than to make jokes about her and Cloud. And he looked dead serious. She stared at him, shocked for a moment. How could he say that? What had she ever done to make him think things like that? He on the other hand…
Just when he looked like he might have been coming to regret what he said, she made a big mistake. She scoffed. "I should be more concerned about you going out to find some floozy when I'm at work."
Oh God, she really hadn't meant to say it quite like that, but she couldn't let her face belie her words—she looked just as angry and grave as he did. And hell, she was angry. Where did he get off making accusations like that?
"Right," he started sarcastically, "Cause I'm the kind of sleazy prick that would do that. But it's okay if you do it cause it's for love."
"I never said that! And I haven't done anything!" Why was she yelling? "And you can't talk about it like that. I know what your reputation is!" Again, it slipped out, much harsher than she intended.
"And what does my 'reputation' have to do with it?"
"You would go off with just anyone! Just… pick up some girl and never see her again and not feel a thing. You don't know what it's like! You don't know what it's like to really care about someone!"
He stood up suddenly, narrowing his eyes a brief moment. "…I'm going out," he said calmly. A bit too calmly.
"Where are you going?" She asked him, rising to follow him before she could stop herself.
"To find some floozy."
There was silent rage beneath his narrowed eyes, and it scared her a little. She'd probably gone too far—but it had seemed perfectly justified at the time, the way he was talking. And she was scared for other reasons. She knew he'd added that last bit just to make her mad, make her feel guilty about what she'd said, but what if that was what he really decided to do? She opened her mouth to say something—defend herself, apologize—but nothing came out. Instead, she just watched him leave. The door closed with a very loud slam—so he was angrier than he was letting on.
Going after him crossed her mind. But what good would that do? She bit her lip and stared at her feet. Crying was out of the question. She felt tears but refused to let them fall. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't.
She walked to the counter and set her elbows on it, squeezing her eyes shut tight and burying her face in her hands. What if he didn't come back? Even after everything, did she still worry so readily about him leaving her? She didn't want to be alone again…
Tifa started frantically pacing about on the linoleum tile. She pulled out the biggest cooking pot she owned and immediately placed it on the stove.
Olive oil, garlic, onions…
She still had a few tomatoes, but she was more than prepared to run out to the grocery store if she was missing anything she needed.
Basil, oregano…
As an afterthought, she decided vodka sauce would be most fitting. She took a quick shot from the bottle before pouring the vodka in. And she had just enough heavy cream left.
Black pepper, red pepper…
She would have been shocked out of her mind to find that she was out of pasta, but she found one box of penne way in the back. It was a small box, one she'd bought when the store was out of the kind she usually got. It would be enough, she decided, grabbing her second biggest pot and filling it in the sink.
Add some salt, wait for the water to boil…
Tifa fidgeted and tapped her fingernails on the counter as she watched for bubbles rising from the pot. She set the flame as high as it would go, hoping the water would start to boil soon. She suddenly understood what he'd once said about smoking. But he'd quit that. She wondered what he did now when he needed something to occupy his hands or mind.
Cooking was her distraction, she supposed. Finally, time to put in the pasta.
She snapped out of the daze she fell into after sitting down at the kitchen table when water rose from the pot and spilled out from under the lid. She almost overcooked the pasta. She never overcooked it.
She was pouring the sauce over the penne when the door opened. She held her breath. It closed again, but this time without the loud slam from earlier. Immense relief washed over her as she exited the kitchen.
She decided to meet him halfway.
She found herself face to face with a large bouquet of roses, and Reno wearing the closest look to genuine embarrassment she'd ever seen from him. "Here," He quickly collected himself and handed the flowers to her. "For you," His trademark grin finally made an appearance.
He was stating the obvious, but she found it sweet in a way. She inspected the bouquet. A dozen roses. She smiled a little when she realized he'd picked an unusual color—orange. A bouquet of roses that said 'I'm not really into the whole romantic convention thing' and one lone red rose in the center that said '…but you are, and I love you.'
She put her nose to it and inhaled. Red roses mean love… She'd always loved the scent of roses. "Thank you," she said when her smile matched his. She returned to the kitchen to find a vase, and he followed her. He peered over her shoulder when she resumed cooking the food. "I made your favorite," She grinned up at him. She wasn't sure she'd even been aware of it at the time.
They ate in mostly silence—small talk always managed to sneak in somehow. He complimented the food; she thanked him again for the flowers.
'I was hungry.'
'They really brighten up the room.'
He put the dishes in the dishwasher while she washed the pots. As soon as she had put the last thing in the drying rack and stripped off her yellow rubber gloves she turned about-face and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his chest.
"I'm sorry too babe." He kissed the top of her head and smiled at her when she pulled back to look at him.
She took his hand. "Come on," she said, leading him to the couch in the living room. "I know this is kind of agonizing, but I think we need to air some grievances," She seated herself next to him, close enough to let him know that she wasn't mad anymore.
"I basically started this," he began before she could even open her mouth. "I'm sure if I had actually stopped to think about it I'd realize you wouldn't just… run off with him or some shit. But you can't blame me for getting jealous." The way he looked at her clearly showed that he was hoping she'd agree with him.
"I know," she admitted. "It's hard. They say you never really get over your first love," He frowned so she quickly continued. "But I'm with you now. I'm not going to just throw that all away for someone who threw me away, no matter how much I loved him once."
She stopped for a moment letting her words sink in, so he'd know he was forgiven, before going on. "Look, um…" She was suddenly consumed by overwhelming guilt. "I really didn't mean what I said either," She'd had plenty of time to think about just what she was implying by accusing him of not being able to care. She knew it was painful for both of them to think that after all they had been through together, there was a lack of affection and trust. "I…" She lifted her eyes to meet his. "I know you care."
"Good," he smiled. "I didn't really mean to make you think that I didn't," She smiled back. "But Teef…"
"Hmm?" She'd given into the urge to lean into him, resting her head on his chest.
"Do you really think I'm some heartless man-whore or something?"
"Oh," She blushed. "Well… I really only heard stories from when you were with the Turks. And after that… I don't know how you choose to spend your free time." Her confession was honest, but she had to laugh at the slight absurdity of the conversation.
"See, the thing about that is…"
"Yeah?"
"Well, I didn't realize just how many women in Midgar were sluts for power until I became a Turk. They liked the 'status' y'know? Plus, Turks aren't really supposed to have girlfriends or shit like that, so 'love-em-and-leave-em' was really the only option I had."
"Umm…"
"Over celibacy," he added.
"Right," she laughed. "I couldn't see you taking that route."
"I couldn't have anyway. I had to sleep with a lot of business execs' wives for important information."
She nodded for a moment. "So… what about now then?"
"Uhh, well…" God, he looked even more embarrassed than before. "Once the 'status' went, so did the girls."
"Seriously?"
"Yyyeeeaaahhh… I wasn't gettin' any for a long time there. And I'd been talkin' pretty big about myself… I didn't really want to let on."
And Tifa had to laugh. She really couldn't help it
He feigned a pout. "You laughin' at me now?"
"No, no… I just think it's kinda… cute that you were too embarrassed to tell me." She giggled and closed her eyes, indulging in his warmth.
"I'm glad you're so amused."
"I am," She sat comfortably for a few more moments, smiling to herself. "Well that wasn't so bad," She said after a while. "We're already all made up, and it was relatively painless," she noted cheerfully.
"Actually…"
She sat up and frowned at him. "Was there something else?"
"We-ell…" he began slyly. "I hear make up sex is supposed to be amazing." He grinned at her, full-fledged.
Feigning a scoff, she left him and the couch. "You can't believe everything you hear," She looked at him over her shoulder, and she wanted to laugh all over again at how disappointed he looked—utterly shot down. She winked at him. "Sometimes you have to find out those kind of things for yourself."
She slinked towards the stairs, squealing playfully and accelerating into a run when he began to chase after her.
The bedroom door closed with a click, and if either of them heard the familiar 'ding-dong… ding-dong…' coming from the floor below, it was totally and rightfully ignored.
A.N.: I've been working on this fic for what feels like forever. I was so stuck on the argument itself, which ended up falling a little bit flat. And then it got sappy. So sue me. The ones I've got coming down the pike aren't as sappy. I hope this came out okay at least. I am glad to say it's done XD.
The title is a Beatles song (what a surprise) written by George Harrison. The summary is from the lyrics :-) This fic is for him cause he's on my happy list, as I am currently obsessed with his song 'All Things Must Pass' Don't be surprised if you see a fic titled that!
How about a review? For me? For George?