A/N: This little fic was written in the span of about fifty minutes as a celebration of over 10,000 posts on the Viva La Reefie forum. Yay, us! This is part of my Reminiscence 'verse. Here you go, girls! This one's dedicated to you.
Thanks to Leo, who, in a conversation yesterday, helped me come up with this idea.
Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII (Square Enix does), nor do I own the poem "A Red, Red Rose." That was written by Robert Burns and is public domain.
"Mm, this is nice, Reeve. Isn't it nice? I told you you'd like it," Yuffie said, throwing herself down on the grass under the flowering plum tree.
"Yes, Yuffie, it most certainly is," Reeve answered, casting a fond glance at his girlfriend of two months as she attempted to make a snow angel out of the flower petals littering the ground.
It had been insanely hectic at the WRO for the past three weeks. Reeve had been glued to his desk, Yuffie had been sent out on mission after mission, and everyone's tension levels were far too high. The rebuilding efforts after the DeepGround incident were still going on, and everyone had some demand to make of the WRO. Yuffie had had enough earlier in the morning, and had hijacked Fenrir, packed a picnic basket, and grabbed Reeve from his office, announcing over the PA system as she did so that there would now be a day off for all who wished to take advantage of Reeve's "abduction." Reeve had protested at first, but somewhere between his apartment, where Yuffie had, at Conformer-point, forced him to change into something "less stuffy," and the grassy hill outside of Edge, he had given in and relaxed.
Yuffie stopped moving around and gazed up at Reeve through half-lidded eyes. "Come sit down with me, Reeve. I haven't seen you for three weeks. The most we've talked is in five-minute stretches on the PHS. I've missed you."
Reeve looked down at Yuffie, flowers tangled in her hair, and swallowed. He'd missed her too, but he'd had no idea that she felt as strongly as he did. He did as she bid, though, and sat down, pulling an old, little book of poems from his pocket as he did so. The book had been his mother's, and she had loved to have his father read to her. Maybe they would serve as a distraction and keep his mind off the combination of beautiful woman and remote area currently shouting "Hello, Reeve!" in his mind.
Yuffie moved her head so it was resting in Reeve's lap. He hurriedly opened up the book of poems.
"Hey, Reeve, what's that?" she asked.
"A book my father used to read to my mother. When you forced me to change I stuck it in my pocket. I thought that, as long as we're going to have a picnic, I might bring something for us to do. Would you like me to read one to you?" he said, paging through the slim volume. The mental effort was keeping him from looking at Yuffie, and thus effectively filling the requirements of a distraction. Reeve was very pleased with the little book of poems.
Yuffie laughed. "That's my Reeve. Always keeping busy, even when we're relaxing. Sure. Read me one. I want to know the kinds of stuff your parents liked." She closed her eyes and settled her head more comfortably against Reeve's legs, waiting.
Reeve flipped through a few more pages before finally finding a poem that he deemed to be of sufficient length and appropriate subject matter, meaning it wasn't a limerick and it was romantic, yet innocent. "All right. Here's one. It's called "A Red, Red Rose." Reeve began to read, putting as much emotion into the poem as he could.
O MY Luve 's like a red, red rose
That 's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve 's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune!
Reeve's voice began to take on the characteristics of the colloquial Continental the poem was written in. Yuffie opened her eyes.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
Here, he moved his arm in a sweeping gesture, encompassing the entire hill. Yuffie raised her eyebrows.
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:
Yuffie's eyebrows returned to their normal position and she smiled up at Reeve.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
Her eyebrows went back up and her smile disappeared, however, once as Reeve started gesturing again. His voice got louder, higher, and slipped even further into the colloquial accent he had adopted. Yuffie started to fight back giggles.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
As Reeve finished the poem with a shout, bringing his right hand to his heart and bowing his head, Yuffie burst out laughing.
Reeve's eyes snapped open and he frowned at her. "What?" Apparently his little distraction attempt worked too well, and on somebody else in addition to him.
Yuffie sat up, avoiding Reeve's head, and tried valiantly to get herself under control. "That, that, that was, oh my sweet Leviathan. That was really sweet, Reeve, but, but, the way you read it! It was just too funny for words!"
Reeve looked at her, the frown changing to a more wary look. "I read it funny?"
Yuffie nodded, choking on the little giggles that threatened to overtake her once again. "You read it funny, hon. But it was really sweet! I mean it. I liked the poem."
Reeve's expression changed again, this time into one of a more contemplative nature. "Hm. Well, I don't know why it was that funny. Though, come to think of it, my mother always laughed when my father read these to her." He leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky, obviously thinking.
Yuffie looked at Reeve, shaking her head. He was really too cute. The poetry-reading style apparently ran in the family, and he didn't even know it. Yuffie decided it was cute, and that she liked it. "Hey, Reeve. After this, read me another one."
He looked at her. "After this? After what?"
Yuffie grinned and launched herself at him, kissing him thoroughly and knocking him backwards into the petal-filled grass. It was really very nice out here.
