For The Sacred and Profane. Thank you for challenging me. I hope you'll forgive my fascination for swings and that first moment of 'realization'.
This was prompted, but I bet no one would ever be able to guess the prompt.
Enjoy.
fire mystic
Star Light, Star Bright
He was walking aimlessly, aware enough of his immediate surroundings to assure his safety, but where exactly he was, Reno hadn't been paying attention.
It was a particularly dark night, the street lamps scattered here and there doing little to illuminate past their little corners, and the local businesses had long ago closed up shop, the darkened windows and iron security grates leaving the area feeling deserted and lifeless.
Rounding a corner, Reno was faced with a particularly dark street, flanked on one side by gloomy buildings and on the other by an old, beaten down playground. Though they might have deterred others, the shadows were something Reno was familiar with, something he understood. Besides, things had changed; since the Remnants had been dealt with, along with the reincarnated Sephiroth, the world had become a much quieter, safer place. Monster sightings were practically unheard of lately, Shinra was lying low, and people were staying home, enjoying their families, able to sleep through the night without emergencies; able to enjoy the peace.
It was the creak of metal from somewhere off to his right, somewhere within the playground or beyond, that stopped Reno in his tracks. Just because there hadn't been reports of monsters didn't mean they weren't still out there, and there were still human monsters to deal with, he reminded himself, and they were, by far, the worst kind.
Scanning the open area of the playground, searching for anything abnormal amidst the silhouettes of the swing set, the seesaws, the jungle gym, the old fort, he found the source of the sound. The merry-go-round was moving, though so slowly he could hardly call it spinning, and he could make out the form of a person lying on the metal surface, legs hanging over the side to propel the structure.
Reno was tempted to simply walk away, but his curiosity got the better of him. He also couldn't risk that whoever it was hadn't seen him and may actually present a threat. Retrieving his EMR from his jacket, he flicked it out, giving it a chance to charge before he crossed the distance.
As he got closer, he could make out a few more details. He was quickly aware that it was a woman; no mistaking those curves, and as the merry-go-round spun her in his direction once more, he pulled up short. He knew those sneakers, those legs.
He let the EMR charge down.
"Lockhart?"
She bolted up, her head nearly missing an iron bar, taking in his features, his face paler in the darkness than she remembered, normally bright eyes and hair shadowed.
"Reno? You startled me. What are you doing here?"
Strolling closer, he put the EMR away.
"I was walking; heard the metal creaking and figured I'd check it out. You okay?"
Tifa was looking around. Walking? Where the hell had he been walking from? Or to? Eyeing his jacket, she jutted her chin towards where the EMR was now concealed.
"Were you planning on 'taking care' of me?"
He caught her glance, lowering his own gaze, embarrassed.
"Sorry. Coulda been a monster. Better safe than sorry, ya know? I didn't know it was you."
Tifa nodded, staring into the sand surrounding the equipment.
"Do you want me to see you home?"
It was a strange offer coming from him, and Tifa wasn't sure if she found it humorous or insulting.
"I'm not a baby, Reno. I don't need you to take care of me." Strange how those words had completely changed context.
That was a blow Reno hadn't quite expected. He hadn't meant to imply…
"I didn't mean to…I've never thought of you like that, Tifa. I know you can take care of yourself." He was backing away. "I'll just leave you alone." He turned, but not before Tifa caught the hurt confusion in his expression.
"Reno!" She called out to him. He paused, turning his head to listen over his shoulder. "I don't need you to protect me, but I wouldn't mind some company. Join me?"
He hesitated, clearly undecided, and Tifa was surprised to find she would be disappointed if he walked away. She tried to think of something more to say, something that would smooth over what he had apparently taken as an insult, but knew that anything she said at this point might make it worse.
He backed up a step, then two, and she thought she heard him mumble "what the hell?" before he spun around. She lay back on the merry-go-round as she had been, and he circled to the other side so that when he lay back, their heads were side by side and they were looking at each other upside down.
"What are you doing out here, Lockhart?" Though he broke the silence, his voice was quiet, intimate. Tifa had never heard him speak like that before, and wondered, insanely, if it was somewhat like he would sound in bed. Immediately heat suffused her face. Why was she thinking of him that way? Biting the inside of her lip to keep her focused, she stuck to the topic at hand.
"I was looking at the stars."
He studied the heavens, realizing the stars were brighter than they usually seemed, and he said so.
"It's a new moon," she explained. "It's the only time the stars are really visible from here, and they've been brighter lately because most of the city still has no power."
"Shinra's working on it." He sounded a bit defensive.
"I wasn't blaming anyone, Reno." She waved a hand at the sky. "Obviously there are some good things about not having power."
He rolled his head, looking at her chin, the smooth line of her throat, her ear, the silver earring dangling down into soft waves of sable hair.
"How do you always stay so positive, Lockhart?"
He watched her collarbone become sharply defined as she adjusted her head to a more comfortable position.
"I have to. It's sort of like laughing so you don't cry. I have to stay positive so I don't lose hope. If I were a pessimist, I would have given up a long time ago."
She stopped there as something occurred to her.
"Which are you, Reno? You don't strike me as a pessimist, but you don't sound very optimistic."
She felt his shoulder move against her head as he shrugged.
"Neither. Both. I always have to worry about the worst and make it work for the better. What does that make me?"
"A realist."
His laughter was soft and low, and it rolled over her like his voice did, bringing to mind far more illicit thoughts than it should have.
"You do this often, Lockhart?" He abruptly followed up on his first question. Tifa went with the flow.
"Once in a while. It's good to get away, think about things from a different perspective."
"So what do you think about when you're out here?"
"Depends." She wasn't being intentionally vague; it was an honest answer.
"What were you thinking about tonight?"
"I was thinking about how different things feel since that last battle with Sephiroth, with the Remnants. Before, it felt like we were stuck; kinda like this merry-go-round, spinning round and round in circles, but never going anywhere. Now, though, it feels like we have a chance to move forward again."
They were silent as they contemplated what Tifa said. Reno wondered where he would fit into this changing world.
"I miss the way it was," he said simply.
"Why?" She sounded as if she couldn't imagine the answer.
"Turks were respected. Now when people see us, it's almost like they feel sorry for us."
Tifa snorted, a very unladylike sound.
"That wasn't respect, Reno. That was fear."
"Same thing."
"No, it's not the same. Maybe, though, after helping in that last battle, people will give you respect, and you'll know the difference."
She stood up suddenly, came around to his side and offered him a hand up. He studied that hand as if not sure it would help or hurt, but then took it, sliding his hand into hers and letting her pull him up from the merry-go-round. Reno shortened his stride to match hers, enjoying how her hand felt in his; her grip was firm, skin soft and warm. She led him to the swings and took a seat in one of them. She waved a hand to offer him the other, but he went to stand behind her instead, giving her a small push.
"How does it feel, Reno? To be one of the good guys?"
His hands, lean and strong like the rest of him, molded against her back to give another push.
"One fight doesn't make me one of the good guys. I've done some horrible things."
Tifa put her feet down on the ground to stop her momentum and turned, twisting the chain links of the swing so she could face him. Gone was the smart-ass expression she was used to seeing on his face, and in its place was something that was dangerously close to regret.
"How many of those things would you have done if you hadn't been ordered to do them?"
"That's not a fair question."
"Why not?"
"Because if it hadn't been for Shinra, I might have become something much worse than a Turk. Or dead."
Tifa had never thought of that, hadn't realized until that moment how little she really knew about Reno, what his sacrifices were, what they still might be. She had always brushed him off; he was an arrogant, cocky smartass who at his best had been irritating and contemptible. That wasn't the Reno she was now witnessing. The man who stood before her was being serious, admitting his flaws, demonstrating remorse for his actions. She imagined this was as serious as Reno ever got.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Tifa offered up a small smile.
"How was I looking at you?"
Reaching out, he brushed her cheek, pushed her hair back.
"Like you've never seen me before." There was wonder in his voice.
"I don't think I really have, Reno. I don't think I know you at all."
Tifa turned her face to rub into the palm of his hand. She heard his intake of breath, felt and sensed the tension in his hand and body as he went still. His eyes were wide and questioning.
"Would you like to?"
She looked up into the skies at the fading stars she had been meditating on before he arrived, thinking over their conversation, and then met his gaze, giving a single, simple nod.
"I think I might. If you'll let me."
Reno smiled then, genuinely, not his usual smirk, and held out his hand.
Tifa let the swing unwind, stood, came around to stand before him, and, in the first light of a new day, slipped her hand into his.