A/N: This is probably a surprise for a lot of you. I'm sure there are many people reading this that are puzzled because they're so used to my updates being Strifentine works. Fear not, they haven't gone away forever. There's a new project I'm tempted to work on, but I don't know if it's worthy to have time spent on it just yet. That's where readers come in. I won't beg and moan, but you know what's coming. It's the only way I'll be able to know whether or not I should continue with it.

So without further delay, my first Vincent/Tifa fanfiction, One Day More.

It was one of the longest damn days of the year, it wasn't even here yet, and she already hated it. She was bored, she was starving, and she was lonely. It happened around every holiday. Of course, it was technically no different from any other day, but to Tifa, it was particular on holidays, or the day before them.

Tifa lay in her bed, not wanting to get out from under the warm sheets just yet. Instead, she thought to herself. Though she tried not to, she would always think about the millions of families and couples spending the day together, celebrating in their own ways. Tifa, on the other hand, had the option of watching television or doing laundry. TV sounded nice right about now.

Taking in a small breath and letting it out slowly, Tifa sat up and ran both hands through her hair, straightening it out after the night's tossing and turning. She reached to her right and pulled the string that controlled her window blinds. They lifted to the top of the window to reveal a grey atmosphere, complete with dark skies and rain. Tifa sighed. She hated being alone on rainy days. It made it all the more boring to stay inside her house.

She threw the sheets that covered her shins off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She sat there for only a moment, adjusting to the new position and the change in light of the room. Slowly, she stood up and walked out the door, half-expecting to hear Marlene or Denzel playing downstairs. That was no more, however, and Tifa sighed sadly at the thought.

Almost a year ago, Cloud had gotten a call from a childhood friend who lived practically on the other side of the world. Well, to her anyway. Of course, Cloud wanted to see this friend as soon as possible, and Tifa hadn't protested, but she had been reluctant.

Only weeks after Cloud's departure, Barret had invited Marlene and Denzel to come stay with him again. He claimed to miss them, and they had been rather excited about visiting. Tifa had agreed, but she was still hesitant about letting go of her only company. Still, a bar wasn't much of a great place for two young children, especially when Tifa had to work.

So now, of course, Tifa was alone. Rather ironic, she thought. Only a year ago, I would have been eating some grand feast or whatever with my closest friends. Now they're with everyone else, and I'm here by myself.

Food. It made her stomach growl at the thought of it, and Tifa groaned. She didn't want to, but she gripped the refrigerator's handle as she approached it, and pulled. To no surprise, there wasn't much in there other than lunchmeat, a few containers of yogurt and two bottles of water. Tifa sighed. Hey, it was going to be a big holiday; why not eat to the day's expectations?

Christmas meant all sorts of food, right? It didn't matter which ones she got. Still, Tifa was beleaguered by the variety of food she could possibly get. She hadn't been to the store in quite a while, since she no longer found the need to cook; all she'd eaten for the past several months was takeout and quick snacks.

Grabbing a basket, Tifa scowled at what she now believed was a necessary chore. She felt like blaming something for it, and soon decided that the basket she carried was at fault.

She entered the first aisle to her right, looking around. Canned food. Okay, she thought as she inspected a can of beans. This looks like a good start.

She swiftly threw a few cans of food into her basket as she walked down the aisle, and finally came to the end of it. She examined her basket. It was a good start. She already had five different types of available foods for tonight.

She turned to her left to enter the next aisle when she felt a sharp pang on her stomach and felt her basket hit something. The force knocked her down violently, and the basket flew from her arm, the cans rolling out of it. She squinted her eyes, then opened them again, holding herself up on her elbows. She lifted her head to see none other than Vincent Valentine standing in front of her, holding his hand out to her. She subconsciously took it and stood again, believing she was seeing stars. He watched silently as she came to all senses and scrambled to pick up her cans of food. When she had them all again, she felt rather foolish for rushing to get them, and what's more, for running into him. She looked behind him to see a cart loaded with three times the amount of food Tifa had. She figured he must be planning to eat heavily for the day as well, and inwardly giggled at the thought. Vincent continued to look at her.

"Are you all right?" Tifa shivered. She hadn't heard his voice in two years, seeing as how they hadn't seen each other that long. It was the same deep, monotone voice he'd always held. Secretly, she'd always loved the sound of it. It was chilling, but so relaxing after listening to it for a while.

Nodding, she shrugged. "It didn't hurt much. It surprised me, that's all." She gave him a good overlook. He hadn't changed much, but then again, how much could you change in two years? His lovely, ebony hair was about an inch longer, but that was it. He wore his black pants – the material she couldn't identify – along with a black shirt, tucked in tightly. He was minus his cape and headband, which, Tifa thought, made him look better; it showed his muscular figure and more of his skin. He still, Tifa noticed carried his valuable weapon in its rightful place. She smiled. "You look the same as you did two years ago, Vince." She paused, searching in her mind for something casual to say. "How have you been?"

Vincent placed a hand behind him on the edge of his cart. "Well." His eyes met hers. "Yourself?" Tifa nodded, but stopped. She could say 'fine', but why lie? And besides, if they were to continue this conversation, he would eventually ask about Cloud and the children. Why not just tell the truth? But wouldn't it bother him to spill out all of her feelings about it after so long? That didn't seem quite right, especially since they'd never been too close. She looked up, ready to give her response, but noticed he'd already started pushing his cart around the corner of the shelf she stood beside. He was headed to the aisle she'd just come from.

"Hey, wait!" Her arm lifted, her palm out towards Vincent, like it was going to make him stop. But it didn't. Tifa sighed and lowered her arm. Well, so much for that meet up…

When she was finally done with her shopping, she had her five canned goods, a loaf of uncut bread, and ham. It wasn't as much as she'd thought, but it would do. She headed to the first short line at a register and came around the dividing shelf to see Vincent impatiently waiting for his food to be bagged. She blushed slightly at the reappearance, and stood quietly with her basket's handles on her arm. It took him a while, but Vincent finally noticed the woman standing next to her. He gave hardly an attentive nod, but it was as much as Tifa would expect to get from the man.

Vincent was finally through, and before he pushed his cart out the door, he looked over his shoulder at Tifa for a second, as if thinking about something, then disappeared around the edge of the wall. Tifa bit her lip and waited for her food to be bagged.

Why hadn't he said anything to her? Sure, Vincent had never been one for deep conversation, but that shouldn't have stopped him from giving so much as a simple 'hello'. Then again, that probably would have made it all the more awkward… for her, anyway. She had secretly admired Vincent for only a short period of time. The first day they had met, she couldn't remember, but she knew it was long ago, and she had found him to be surprisingly attractive, and in his own creepy, secluded way… charming.

"Forty-seven gil, miss."

Tifa didn't respond. She couldn't; she hadn't heard the cashier. He irritably cleared his throat, which still didn't get her attention. This time, he spoke louder as he said, "That'll be forty-seven gil?" Tifa blinked many times and snapped back to her actual ambiance.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She reached into her bag and pulled out the correct amount. "Here," she said quietly, dropping the money into the man's hand. He took it and put it away in the register, watching her as she collected her bags.

"Sorry again," she mumbled, and with that she walked through the door. She got three feet in front of it and stopped, feeling that she should, but not knowing why.

"Having a Christmas dinner, are we?"

Tifa smiled. That voice was so significant; she could notice it in a crowd of thousands. She turned to see Mr. Valentine, his cart filled with white bags behind him. He was leaning against it, arms crossed, and she assumed he'd been waiting for her. She shifted her wait to her right, putting her right hand on her hip.

"I knew you missed me more than that. Am I right?" The corners of Vincent's lips twitched a bit, nearly forming a smile – the one Tifa had only seen once or twice – and she laughed. She walked forward and peeked into his cart. He interestedly looked over his shoulder, quirking a brow at her but never moving. She grinned.

"Are you eating alone? Or do you have something special planned? By the looks of it, you're gonna feed over twenty with all this!" Vincent shrugged.

"I decided to… stock up. I don't enjoy shopping, so I prefer to do it all at once." Tifa giggled; the thought of Vincent pushing a cart around with groceries was quite funny. He raised his eyebrow at her again, but turned this time.

"And what about yourself? You don't have much… are you sure that's enough for Cloud and the children?" Tifa's smiled faded, and she trailed her finger along the edge of her basket.

"Actually… the kids are living with Barret now. Cloud is visiting an old friend, and it's pretty far away. I've been living by myself close to a year now." She sighed, and Vincent tilted his head. He understood, though he'd become accustomed to living alone; he'd been doing it much longer. He surprised her by taking her basket from her and placing it in his cart, walking towards a deep red truck. Tifa blinked – when did he get a truck?

"Well then, I suppose our company shouldn't go to waste." He looked over his shoulder at her with a smirk. "My place, or yours?"

Tifa grinned. Vincent… what a mysterious man you are.

They arrived at Tifa's house. Tifa (who had taken a cab to the store, seeing as how Cloud had taken Fenrir to get to his friend's house) had insisted that they go to her house. She didn't want him to make an extra trip just to take her home and travel back to his own place.

She was still staggered that he'd invited her to eat with him, much less spend time together. They never really had any type of relationship. It was more of an acquaintance, but maybe he was lonelier than he showed to be.

Tifa tried to take some of the groceries inside, but Vincent refused and told her to go ahead. She was shocked at how much of a gentleman he was, but once again told herself that she didn't know him well enough to assume and went inside, waiting for him.

Once they'd gotten her food put away, they worked together to get their meal ready. They didn't exactly know what they were doing, and that didn't mean the food. They were both a bit uncomfortable about the sudden surprise of seeing each other, and in a market to boot! And now they were cooking together on Christmas Eve?

They had most of the food prepared; now they had to wait for the ham Tifa had bought. They went into Tifa's living room and sat on the couch, waiting impatiently. They both silently wanted to eat and get it over with, now that all this had started. But at the same time, they were enjoying each other's company all too well, and didn't want to leave the other's presence.

Tifa tapped her fingers on her opposite arm, and Vincent shifted uncomfortably at the awkward silence that surrounded them. Tifa hesitantly reached for the remote and turned on the TV, but after two seconds of seeing an alligator munching on a gazelle, she immediately and hurriedly turned it back off, sitting back in her seat with wide eyes. It had happened so fast, and Tifa's glance found itself inching towards Vincent. He felt it and looked to his left to meet her eyes. They looked at each other for a moment, and Tifa burst into laughter. Vincent even managed to give a small smile.

Tifa controlled her laughter and sighed to calm herself. She looked at her lap, playing with her fingers. Vincent stared at the wall in front of him.

"How long did you say you've been by yourself?" Tifa jumped.

"Oh, um, I dunno… around a year maybe?" She blinked. "Why?" Vincent shrugged.

"The same reason I'd ask why your walls are white." He angled his head so that he could look at her. "You're not much of a talker, are you Tifa?" She giggled.

"Well, I am when I've known people for more than just a couple years. Besides," she added, "we don't exactly know each other that well, do we?" Vincent shook his head.

"But you know, there's only one way to do that." Tifa nodded.

"Yeah, but we haven't seen each other in so long! How are we supposed to 'catch up' in one night?" They both thought about it. Honestly, they did, but only because they had nothing else to do. Tifa's eyes brightened and she snapped her fingers.

"I've got it!" Vincent watched her curiously as she ran around the room, looking for paper and something to write with. She found two electric and water bills and a couple pens and sat back on the couch. She scribbled several things on each, and warned Vincent not to look every time he tried to. Finally, she sat back and handed Vincent both one of the papers and a pen. He blankly looked at it, reading its contents:

Favorite animal:

Favorite color:

Favorite pastime:

Favorite food:

Favorite hobby:

…etc.

Vincent smirked. He could see where this was going, but had a different idea. He took Tifa's paper from her and scratched out the lists on both papers. Tifa scowled at the action, but crossed her arms and waited for him to finish. He quickly wrote down a list of his own and handed Tifa's to her when he was done. Tifa's eyes scanned the paper, and she smiled as she read it:

T

I

F

A

L

O

C

K

H

A

R

T

Tifa laughed. He wanted her to write an acronym? Trust Vincent to be so original! She shook her head with a smile on her face and leaned forward to begin. T… T… what word described her that started with a T? She bit the tip of her pen as if she were thinking about the answer to a math problem. She gave a little "Oh!" in small excitement and wrote down her first word. Vincent blinked at the woman's enthusiastic behavior and began writing his own acronym.

Both adults were so caught up in it that they began a game of "if you can catch it, you can see it". It had started when Tifa had looked over at Vincent's paper. He mockingly snatched it away from her, giving a slight smirk. She playfully growled, making a pathetic swipe for it with her hand. Vincent, without realizing what he was doing, grabbed her wrist, put down his paper, and began to tickle Tifa. She squealed in surprise and began squirming, even though she knew she wasn't that ticklish. Just the fact that she was being so affectionately played with was amusing, and it put her in the improved mood to be ticklish.

Vincent, who decided Tifa had had enough, pulled his arms back. He turned so his back was almost facing her completely and continued writing his name ellipsis. Tifa grinned and did the same. Vincent Valentine, you are full of surprises.

At last, they both completed their acronyms. They switched papers and became more relaxed; Tifa lay back so she was facing Vincent, and Vincent stretched out in the opposite corner of the couch. Vincent, mildly amused at the evening's entertainment, began to read Tifa's acronym.

T – Tough

Vincent thought this to be very true. Though they hadn't had much of a personal relationship, he'd observed Tifa to the point where he knew if you caught Tifa on a bad day, your insides would be brought out.

I – Innocent

Vincent privately smirked at this and wondered what exactly she meant by 'innocent'. Obviously, she was a virgin; Cloud had made it clear to Vincent that the two had always only been friends, and nothing more. Or did it mean Tifa had never generally shown a wayward side? Either way, he was sure he could get the answer out of her.

F – Fond

This he could believe. Tifa had always seemed to be the kind-hearted, loving girl you'd meet and immediately become friends with. She had such a knack for claiming one's attention and snatching their hearts.

A – Affectionate

Most people would think this was exactly like the term 'fond', but Vincent knew better. Though never one for demonstrative correlations, he was well aware of how women thought, only because he was smart enough to figure it out. What Tifa meant by 'affectionate' was that she was very open hearted to everyone, including friends and strangers.

L – Listener

Another reliable trait. The above suggestions of Tifa's characteristics proved this to be entirely true, and Vincent wondered how many people had come to Tifa for help just because they knew she and her heeding was so dependable.

O – Observant

Vincent assumed this meant she was unbiased, and it once again linked to her other listed traits. She was an extremely intelligent woman, and that was only possible by opening oneself to the world. Tifa was very capable of doing that.

C – Charismatic

Vincent had to smuggle his laughter. He had to wonder of the two possibilities of what she meant by this. Either she was very charming to all of those she met, which he knew was very true, or she was referring to the way she made friendly contact with men. Probably both, Vincent thought.

K – Keen

Vincent was amused that Tifa could find such a precise detail that matched the letter K. He would have had quite a lot of trouble with that…

H – Honest

He instantly took back what he had thought about her originality. But then, honesty could mean several things. It could of course mean the basic truthful trait. It could, in a way, mean she was kind of modest. The probabilities were endless.

A – Ambiguous

Vincent was again pleased by the woman's colorful vocabulary. Her intentions were probably to refer to her entire life, and figured she was still naïve about a number of things.

R – Roguish

Unsure of how to respond to this word, Vincent gave an amused 'hn' and noticed that Tifa looked up from her paper. He gave her a quick apologetic glance, then went back to his paper.

T – Tumultuous

She had made it perfectly clear that she was rather confused about events in her life. Why she would tell him this, he didn't know, other than she had been thinking about it a lot lately and it was the first thing that came to her mind. Either that, or she was very poetic and deep about her emotions.

Vincent smiled and set the paper down on his lap, lightly tossing the pen on the coffee table in front of him. He leaned back and focused his gaze on the girl to his left, who was still observing her paper. Obviously she was just as thoughtful as he was. Finally, she took notice that he was done, and blushed as she set her paper to the side.

"Sorry, I just got so interested." Vincent chuckled. Tifa blinked. She had never heard Vincent laugh before. It was surprisingly normal, as opposed to his peculiarly low voice. She loved it, and wanted to hear him do it again. Vincent leaned forward, casting a quick glance to his paper, then back at Tifa.

"I think we both did." Tifa smiled and nodded. Vincent's paper had been so… startling. Vincent really was a spontaneous man.

Suddenly, a terrible smell entered the room. Vincent and Tifa squinted their eyes, as if they were looking for the cause of it. Then, Vincent's eyes lit up in realization, and after only two seconds, so did Tifa's. They leapt off the couch and ran to the kitchen, which was filled with smoky air and twice the awful odor. Vincent reached for the handle of the stove and opened it, just before Tifa cried out not to. The overwhelming rush of smoke and stench from the burning ham immediately knocked him back. Tifa growled and grabbed an oven mitt, pulling out the ham and setting it on the stove.

Tifa tossed the mitt to the side and placed her hands on her hips. Vincent crossed his arms and glared at the black, crisp meat in front of him, like he blamed it for burning. Stupid animal protein...

Tifa sighed and reached for her phone. Vincent heard the dialing of her punching numbers and turned just as she put the phone up to her ear.

"What are you doing?" he mouthed, not sure whether her receiver had picked up the phone yet or not. She smiled and mouthed back, "Ordering pizza."

It was much nicer than cooking the over complicated dinner they had planned. Some planning, Tifa thought. I can't even cook a damn ham…

They had gotten a large cheese pizza, and it was the best dinner Tifa had had in months. Every now and then, they'd bring up little subjects, like what the other had been doing during the time period they hadn't seen each other. Apparently, Vincent had been doing some wide research on other countries he planned to travel to, just for the sake of visiting and learning. Tifa had just been living life with her friends, but had grown out of it long after everyone had left. Still, she missed the general company she had been used to, and was soaking up every bit of what she could get tonight.

Tifa noticed that the smoke from the oven had taken its token on Vincent's once very pale skin. His face was now a mild shade of grey, and it wasn't completely covering it, which made it all the funnier. He looked like someone had purposely powdered smoky blotches all over his face. It made her giggle like mad. He only looked at her oddly, wondering what could be so funny.

When he finally asked what she was laughing at, she only pointed to his face and laughed harder. Irritated but slightly curious, Vincent cautiously walked over to the mirror that was on the wall in the entrance to the hallway. The look he gave to his reflection was hysterical, and Tifa fell over on the couch, unable to breath because of her laughter. Vincent raised an eyebrow and waited for her to stop.

"You wouldn't mind if I used your shower, would you?" Tifa, who was still catching her breath, looked up at him.

"Why don't you just use the si – oh okay. Go ahead." She bit her lip and smiled. "Make sure to scrub extra hard, Vince."

Vincent lifted an eyebrow at the comment and walked in the door, but smiled once he was on the other side of it.

Tifa gave a last chuckle and looked back at the acronym Vincent had created. She decided to read it over again.

V – Vivacious

Tifa, the first time she'd read it, wanted to laugh so hard at this, and now as she read it the second time, she laughed harder than she'd wanted to before. It was hilarious to think Vincent Valentine, ex-Turk and combatant gunman, was in any way spirited. Maybe it was just to throw her off and give her a laugh, because that's exactly what it did.

I – Intellectual

Well duh, Tifa thought. Anyone with eyes can see that. Vincent had incredible mind power, and Tifa admired it to an extremely high point.

N – Nebulous

Vincent sounded a lot like Tifa did. He was unsure about something in his life, if not more than that.

C – Convoluted

Tifa smiled. She already had this one figured out. In fact, she was sure she knew it last year when they had last seen each other. Perhaps even before that. Vincent was an incredibly complex man, which was what Tifa liked about him the most. He, unlike other men she knew, made you think.

E – Enigmatic

Tifa was surprised that Vincent would put such a forward statement like that. Being quite a mysterious man at first site, most people would give this as their opinion of Vincent. Maybe he'd heard it so many times that he was simply used to it. Or he was simply toying with her. Or he sucked at acronyms.

N – Nocturnal

Tifa laughed again. She had wanted to during her first read, but had contained herself for the sake of embarrassment. She was sure he was toying with her now. For gods' sake… nocturnal? Apparently, Mr. Valentine had a touch of humor in him.

T – Ticklish

Tifa was sure Vincent had put this just because of their little game earlier, and she found it almost endearing that he continued to put humor on his paper. This was, after all, his way of wanted to catch up after a year. She'd have to remember this statement for later.

V – Vain

This one troubled Tifa. She wondered if Vincent was upset about his life. She was very aware of Lucrecia and the somewhat of a relationship the two had had. Tifa wondered if they're division was the cause of Vincent's apparent discontent.

A – Ambitious

Well of course, Tifa thought, and she shook her head. This was definitely not one of the more surprising characteristics he had listed. She looked at the next.

L – Licentious

This had so many meanings that it confused Tifa, yet shocked her all the same. Though the definitions that Vincent might have meant were many, they were all still unexpected. Licentious could mean anything from depraved to profligate, which led on to even further possibilities. She was positive he was teasing her with these.

E – Evil

It seemed that Vincent had more than just a touch of humor. Apparently, he thought he was hilarious. It made Tifa snicker just to think of Vincent pretending to be evil. She would definitely have to bring up that subject when she could.

N – Normal

Tifa wondered if this was the humor she was beginning to admire, or if he was very serious about this statement. She figured someone like Vincent would definitely want to be normal after some time, even though they know they can't be. Vincent's odd way of aging and transforming was enough to freak anybody out, and Tifa knew Vincent wasn't one to spill his feelings out to just anyone. Technically, Vincent Valentine was not normal, but Tifa was sure that this wasn't what he meant.

T – Tranquil

Tifa smiled. This was fairly obvious, but it still amused her that Vincent would write it.

I – Immoral

Tifa frowned at this. He obviously had had Lucrecia on his mind when he wrote this. He still must have blamed himself for the failure of her rescuing. He was probably hoping every second of the day for Hojo to be burning in hell.

N – Nearsighted

This one shocked Tifa entirely. Instead of a characteristic, he'd put a fact, and one that she never would have guessed in her lifetime. So he uses a gun in combat, but he can't see anything when he uses it? What are the odds…

E – Experienced

Vincent had obviously run out of words to use, but the term still fit him. Tifa laughed. She didn't exactly blame him; he had a much longer name than she had. Yet 'experienced' was perfect… Vincent was old enough to have done so many things people would think he'd have done.

Tifa sighed and leaned back, letting go of the paper as she did so. It swayed back and forth before it landed gently on the table in front of her. She could still hear the water running, and for some reason, she was at peace. For the first time in a year, she was calm and happy, and it was because she had company. It felt rather odd to have someone like Vincent in her home, using her shower and eating pizza with.

This, now that Tifa thought about it, surprised her even more. She'd never thought Vincent as a pizza type of person, but then again, what else was he supposed to eat?

She let her gaze drift from the floor to the bathroom door as Vincent opened it, and by God, she almost fell off the couch.

Vincent stepped out in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. The towel was one of her black ones, and it made his skin look all the more pale. His hair was damp, and she could tell he'd already started drying it. It fell past his shoulders and almost to his waist. Without that headband, it looked three inches longer. And, as she had expected but never thought she'd witness, he was built. Very well built, mind you. She figured he did as much combat as he did shooting, and it paid off. Thirty years in a coffin or not, it didn't show. He looked like the twenty-seven year old man he was supposed to be.

Luckily for her, Vincent continued to adjust his towel so it wouldn't fall. Oh gods, Tifa hoped it wouldn't. Finally, he looked up at her, and their eyes met after a second. Tifa wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. Vincent wasn't staring; he was waiting. Waiting for Tifa to say something, do something.

Eventually, Tifa blinked and realized who and what she was staring at, and embarrassedly lowered her head to face the floor in front of her.

"Sorry. You know… about… um, I didn't mean to…"

Vincent didn't move. He only blinked calmly at her. She was an interesting person; he'd give her that. As confusing as he found her to be, she fascinated him, and that didn't just involved the evening they had spent together. Since the first moment they had met, she had engaged his full attention, and he observed her as thoroughly as he could. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, brushing it behind his ear and untangling it.

"You don't mind if I wash my clothes…"

Tifa looked up. Oh dear Bahamut, how long would that take? She mumbled where the washer was, and once he had left the room, she gave an exasperated sigh and fell back onto the couch again.

"Damn it Tifa, grow up…"

Vincent, who was fixing his slipping towel in the kitchen, stood and smirked at the scolding he heard.

A/N: Ahh... Could've been better? I'm working on the next chapter, but where should I go with this? Suggestions? Requests? Constructive criticism? Anything will help, I promise.