For The Sacred and Profane. Thank you for all the wonderful stories.

I neither own nor profit from ffvii and its characters. I do, however, seem to have a fascination with love between these two being given a chance.

Enjoy.

fire mystic

Chance Encounter

What she had been thinking that morning when she left home without having her morning cup of tea, Tifa wasn't sure, and now it was clear that the rest of her day was going to be a nightmare if she didn't get her morning dose of caffeine.

She wasn't familiar with this part of town, and the diner across the street looked as good a place as any to get a cup of tea, and she might even be able to take a few minutes to sit down and enjoy it. Pushing through the door, she waited the few seconds it took for a waitress to guide her to a table. As she walked through, however, she stopped short as she glimpsed an unexpected sight.

He was sitting in a booth, arms crossed in front of him on the table, head resting on his arms with his face towards the wall. If it weren't for the splay of red hair, she might not have noticed him.

She approached the booth slowly, and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but before she had a chance to touch him, more or less speak his name in concern, her wrist was caught in a steel grip, and she was, that quickly, staring into wary green eyes.

Recognition dawned, and he was clearly confused.

"Lockhart?"

"Damn Reno. You're hurting me!"

He looked down at his hand, leaving imprints on her skin, as if he hadn't realized he still had a hold of her. Letting her go, he settled down in his seat.

"You should know better than to sneak up on a Turk."

"I wasn't sneaking up on you. I was checking to see if you were all right."

He sat back, disbelieving.

"Why?"

Tifa opened her mouth to answer, gaping instead, and then stuttering.

"I…I thought…I saw you…" She gave up on her explanation. "Are you okay, Reno?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

At this point, the waitress came back to retrieve Tifa.

"Your table is ready, miss." She directed her down the aisle.

"Oh, okay." She started to follow the waitress. "Take care, Reno."

She took a few more steps.

"Hey Lockhart." She turned back to him. "Join me?" She thought it over for a second, and then nodded. The waitress had been following the conversation and followed her back to the booth, placing a menu in front of her.

"Just tea, please."

The waitress took the menu back, turning to Reno, who smiled up at her with a wink.

"Same here, Kei."

Her face lit up as a blush took over her pretty features. "Anything for you, Reno," her voice sugary sweet, and she bounced off to get their tea.

Reno turned his gaze on Tifa, his expression turning more serious as he recognized her curiosity.

"What?" He asked simply.

"It's true what they say, isn't it?"

"About what?"

"You and the girls."

Rolling his shoulders, he leaned forward to place an elbow on the table, his chin in his hand, and gazed at her coyly.

"That depends. What are they saying?"

Uncomfortable, Tifa blinked rapidly, wondering at the effect that expression was having on her.

"That you're…promiscuous."

"Pro-mis-cu-ous?" He pronounced succinctly. "Yeah, that's me, yo. Reno of the Turks, at your service. Dangerous, deadly, promiscuous." His chuckle was only partially amused. "Who the hell have you been listening to, Lockhart?"

No, she couldn't think of a single person she had actually heard that little rumor from. Not one. Had it been a figment of her imagination? Had it been her own silly assumption that she had put off on others?

"It was just something I heard," she muttered weakly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have listened."

"No problem. I've been known to turn on the charm now and then."

Their tea arrived, and Tifa got to witness his charm again as he thanked Kei. Tifa waited for the young girl to leave before speaking again.

"Do you know her?"

He spared the waitress a glance. "She's always here in the mornings. Very sweet. Goes to secretarial school at night. Wants to work for Shinra someday."

"Are you interested in her?" Tifa couldn't believe she had blurted that out. "Goddess, Reno. I'm sorry. That's none of my business."

He shrugged it off, taking a sip of his tea. "She's not my type."

Surprised she had gotten an answer, Tifa couldn't help the follow up question.

"What is your type?"

Reno leaned back against the wall of the booth, casually putting one foot up on the bench seat and observing the room. It struck Tifa that it had to be something Reno was good at, taking in his surroundings. It was a skill he would need as a Turk. She recalled how quickly he had moved when she approached him, even though she would have thought him completely unaware. She realized she had never given the man enough credit.

"I like my women feminine, flirtatious, and fun, but strong and independent at the same time; able to stand up for themselves, for what they believe in, but not afraid to ask for help when they need it."

Reno rolled his head to look at her innocently. Almost.

"Kind of like you, Lockhart."

Tifa was having difficulty breathing. Definitely time for a change of subject.

"Were you sleeping when I came in?"

He closed his eyes, laying his head back against the wall.

"Resting. It was a long night last night."

Tifa wondered if he had been drinking and had to bite her tongue to keep that question from slipping out. After all, she had no more proof of his drinking to excess than she did of his womanizing, and even if it were true, who was she to judge?

Besides, he didn't look hung over. He looked exactly like what he had said he was: Tired. She decided to take a safer route of questioning.

"Did you have to work?"

He didn't bother opening his eyes. "Yeah." She knew better than to ask for more than that.

The silence stretched, and, strangely, Tifa found it comfortable.

"Tell me something, Lockhart. You ever think about having a family?"

Now where had that come from?

"I do have a family, Reno. Marlene and Denzel are like my own, and Cloud is like a brother."

He was studying her face again, so intent.

"Yeah, but I mean a family of your own. You know, husband, your own kids, a place to call home."

Yes, Tifa had thought of that; it was one of her 'someday' dreams.

"Sure I have."

Where was he going with this? He was staring at a spot somewhere between the end of his nose and the ceiling.

"The Turks are the only family I've ever known, Shinra the only home."

"I feel like saying I'm sorry. You sound as if that isn't good enough anymore."

He wiped his face with a hand, and then fished money out of his pocket and slapped it down on the table, suddenly standing up. He paused, adjusting his jacket around his neck and shoulders, remaining still for a moment, refusing to meet her eyes.

"It's not."

There was something vulnerable in his expression, something hurt, wounded, and hopeless. Tifa never thought she would think of a Turk, of Reno, as huggable, but there he was, and she did the only thing she could think to do; she stood up and wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly to her, burying her face against his chest, where she could smell sweat, cordite and a faint trace of blood. He stiffened in her arms minutely, but then relaxed into the hug, even returning it gently. She felt his face rub against the top of her head.

"One more thing, Lockhart. Do you really think of Cloud as nothing more than a brother?"

She drew back slightly, looking up at him, but not letting go, her eyebrows drawing together.

"You know everyone asks me that. I just don't get it, but yeah, Cloud is like a little brother."

Reno smoothed her hair down with one hand.

"Anyone special, then?"

"Not at the moment." Was he going where she thought he was with this?

His hand came around to caress her cheek.

"Do you think that a tired old Turk might have a chance of being special?"

She mulled the full impact of his words, words she would never have expected from him, of all people. But then, she had seen a side of Reno today that she hadn't been aware of, and she would never think of him the same way.

"No. I don't think I would be interested in a tired old Turk." His eyes, which had always seemed to be laughing before today, dimmed in disappointment. Tifa placed a hand on his cheek, mirroring him.

"But you, Reno; for you I would offer that chance."