Made with Love

I have to be honest. This has to be the WORST part of my job.

I'm usually not one to complain, but Tifa really needs to decide on the size and weight limits for our delivery service soon. It's not getting oversized packages to the client that's the problem – I just have to chain up the trailer to Fenrir. It's when you have to climb up at least five sets of stairs carrying who knows what that must weigh 800 tons on your back, then repeat with the other four boxes. That had better been some pretty important stuff.

I leaned against my motorbike as I counted out the money to make sure the client didn't over or underpay their total. Once I finished double-checking, I put the money in my pocket and started Fenrir, the roar of the engine clouding my thoughts (No pun intended) if only for a minute.

I had to take the main roads because of the trailer, which reminded my why I always cut through the desert to get home – The roads make a much longer route. It's much easier to weave through the dirt than it is riding down pavement at barely even 50 MPH, making legal turns and stopping at red lights… maybe I'm turning criminal.

My thoughts are interrupted as something wet and icy hits my face. During this whole time I never noticed the sky get darker and start raining. A low rumble shook the skies, foretelling a thunderstorm, and one by one more raindrops fell like tiny freezing missiles around me. Luckily I get home before the real downpour begins.

I was surprised to notice the sign on the door had been flipped around to say: Sorry, We're Closed. The bar's NEVER closed this time of day, when we get the most customers. I start to panic a little; did something happen to Tifa?

I swing the door open and start to call out if anyone's there, but stop. A strangely appealing aroma hits me like a sack of bricks. The door shuts behind me as I slowly make my way to the back, following the scent. The closer I get, the stronger the scent grows, and the better I can understand the now various scents: Sugar, flour, chocolate, cinnamon…

I turn around a corner to find that it lead to the kitchen. Inside was the answer to the sugary pungent scent – Tifa was making homemade cookies.

She must've been concentrating really hard, because she didn't hear me walk in with my boots on. She slipped the oversized oven mitts onto her hands, bent over and opened the oven door, and pulled out a cookie sheet filled with a fresh batch of her Secret Recipe Chocolate-Chip Cookies, baked to the perfect golden texture. I felt my mouth begin to water. The plate she had by the oven looked like it already had at least two batches of cookies on it. I guess she started baking them after I left to make deliveries. I knew Denzel and Marlene would want some, but I was tempted to take the whole plate and eat them by myself. When Tifa makes cookies, that woman makes cookies.

She inhaled, taking in the scent of the cookies, and sighed, happy with the result. "Perfect." She grinned. She took off the mitt she had on her right hand and picked up a cookie – She leaves them in the oven to cool, but the sheet usually stays hot – and gently bit into it, tasting it.

I decided to make myself known. I strode over to her side and gently hugged her around her hips, holding her close. She was surprised by the sudden contact and turned her head to face me, the cookie still halfway in her mouth.

I bit into the other end of the cookie, breaking it in half. It was warm and soft, sweet but not sugary, chocolaty with a hint of cinnamon. I couldn't help but grin.

"Mmm, delicious." I complimented.

"Cloud…" She gasped slightly. "You're home… already?"

I chuckled. "It's been almost three hours since I left." She had lost track of time while she was baking, as usual.

"Oh…" She flushed. "I wanted to make you some cookies as a surprise for when you came home, but I had so much fun making them…"

I smiled and hugged her tighter, running my hand through her dark hair and kissing her forehead gently. She slowly hugged me back, resting her head on my chest and sighing.

I'll deliver one thousand crates a day just for this.

THE END

(A/N) Yay, my first CloTi fanfiction! *Dances* I'm not sure where the inspiration came for this, but now I wanna make cookies like Tifa … O__O

Please R&R!

~Drake