Author's Note: This story is a role play fiction, meaning the tale is told in posts, or blocks of text. Put simply, this is co-op'ed by myself, writing Tifa, and my great friend Animenadie writing Vincent. I realize the format is odd and unusual, but since there are two authors writing this fiction, this style-set is the best I can do with what time I have.

It is set some six months after the events of Advent Children and the upcoming game Dirge of Cerberus is not taken into account here. We've taken liberties with a few things, so please be tolerant. R/R requested and enjoyed, but please be constructive in any criticism given. We do this because we enjoy it and want to share with the other fans of this series and paring. Fiction has not been Beta'ed; any volunteers would be welcomed.

I have added paragraphs and spaced the blocks out a bit. I hope this makes for easier reading. This is not read as a novel would be, but rather by posts, as it's written in role play form. I hope it helps.

Disclaimer: We, in no way whatsoever, own anything of and pertaining to the Final Fantasy VII or Advent Children works; that right belongs to other fortunate souls. We also reap no monetary benefits from this exercise in literary creativity.

Beginnings, After the End

Chapter One:

Tifa:

Tifa tossed down the bar towel and sighed. Life was slowly settling back to normal, if one could call it normal, what life had been before all this chaos ravaged the planet. She shook her head and smiled slightly. Well, normal was relative. She gave a glance to the ceiling as quick footsteps pattered overhead; apparently Marlene and Denzel were done with lessons and needed some activity. Such as dishes, cleaning, or maybe just letting them play for a while? She opted for the latter, taking the broom and sweeping the bar floor for the eleventh time that day.

Chores usually helped to alleviate the troublesome thoughts that plagued her during the quiet hours, which was most of the day. Frowning, brown eyes troubled, she resolutely set her mind back to work and thought no more of it until the bar shimmered and sparkled from her labors. Well, she thought, only five more hours till opening time. Five more hours to dwell on…Stop it, she chastised herself, going upstairs and deliberately avoiding the closed door at the top of the stair. He's not here, he's working, so just leave it alone. Tifa vented a soft snort.

Thankfully, the shrieks of laughter pulled her from the melancholy mood and she gasped as Marlene nearly crashed into her, swinging around and galloping down the stairs, Denzel right behind her.

"Hey, you two!" Tifa shouted, following, "don't make a mess downstairs!" The kids were playing chase, a favorite game that gave Tifa headaches from hell.

Marlene ducked behind a table; Denzel followed and grabbed her ankle. Now it was Marlene's turn and Denzel whooped and burst out the front door, the little girl fast on his heels. Tifa watched them go without worry. Now that peace blanketed the ravaged city of Midgar, there was little danger on the streets. Still, if they didn't return home in an appropriate amount of time, she would bestir herself to go find them and have another lecture about remaining close to home. Something Cloud should learn… the thought flitted through her mind before she could stop it.

Grimacing at herself, she whirled and stomped inside, upstairs to her room and opened the window, the better to watch for the kids and sat at her desk, staring unseeing at a pile of paperwork.

Vincent:

His red cloak stood out a bit starkly in comparison to the white, pastel and eerie surroundings of the forest, Vincent had long ago decided. Still, this was where he resided for the time being, here just outside the City of the Ancients, where he had saved Cloud from Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo. Also where he had tried to nurse Tseng and Elena after rescuing them, though they left prematurely. Thankfully, he had managed to save their lives at least. Another small bit taken off the long list of penances to be paid.

Leaning against the alabaster trunk of a crystalline tree that mirrored the ghost-like quality of the entire area, Vincent Valentine took out his still-fairly-new cell phone, checking for any new messages. He knew there would be none, but it was a habit. His allies had his number, in case of emergency. Now and then he received a social call from Marlene, who would prattle on about this or that - often about Denzel - as he merely hummed his responses or answered with the occasional short sentence. She didn't seem to mind, and neither did he, though it wouldn't have shown if he did. The child seemed to have more to say that those immediately around her could or would listen to, save perhaps Tifa, though Vincent knew she was busy sometimes, and Barrett was often away doing more than his share of saving the Planet.

When it was confirmed that he had no new voice mail messages, Vincent put the phone back under his cloak in a pocket on his gun-belt. His mind lingered on Tifa, though merely with the curiosity of whether or not she and Cloud had settled anything between them. A few strands of long, jet-black hair had fallen over his let shoulder, which he flicked back in a smooth motion before taking to the tree branches in an effortless leap.

With grace that a cat would be envious of, he bounded from tree to tree until he came to the path leading to the emerald lake... where she had been laid to rest. Cloud had stopped by, only four days prior, yet Vincent had not made himself known. He knew Cloud was here to pay respects to Aeris' memory, with flowers that he tossed into the water. He hadn't stayed long, for which the former Turk was thankful. Still... he did wonder how Tifa was doing. He quickly reminded himself that it was none of his concern, and that she would probably not want his pity or sympathy, if he had any to offer. He supposed that his own past was the key reason why he was pondering her relationship with Cloud to begin with.

With a soft, almost inaudible snort, Vincent turned and disappeared back into the forest. It would be time to feed the beasts soon.

Tifa:

After hanging up the phone from an hour conversation with Yuffie she'd neither needed nor wanted, Tifa rested her forehead on the desk, trying not to cry. She'd held tight during Yuffie's eager prattle, going on about this and that while she, Nanaki, and Cait Sith traveled with Cid, searching out new oil fields. Barret was apparently having all the luck, Yuffie had reported, and the construction of the dirks was booming. Naturally, Yuffie had inquired of Cloud and life there in Midgar, to which Tifa had put up a false bright front, assuring her all was well and they were doing fine. Better than ever, actually.

Yuffie had bought it, thankfully, and pressed her no more for information, signing off. Cloud had been gone for nearly ten days now, on this routine little delivery mission he himself had styled, "Just another road trip." But Tifa knew it was bullshit. The anniversary of Aeris's death had been five days ago; she had little doubt where Cloud actually was. She rose from her desk and went to lean against the window sill, her heart momentarily lightened to see Marlene and Denzel below, playing tag with other kids in the alley.

An involuntary smile curved her lips; the children were what mattered, she thought resolutely. Our own personal hells are trivial; it will be all right as long as the kids are taken care of. While watching the children cavort and play below, her mind drifted back to memories, wondering if she herself should pay respects to Aeris. They'd been, after all, comrades for a short time. Her lips twitched. Maybe she should. Perhaps it would help if she lay her own ghosts to rest.

The next morning, it took little more than two hours to get the kids settled in with the neighbor next door, her lunch and water in her pack and a ride hitched with a merchant friend headed the proffered way. The truck was old and spavined, the ride bumpy, but Tifa didn't mind. It seemed like ages since she'd been outside Midgar. But the sun was shining, the early spring day warm without being blazingly hot and she relished it.

After four interminable hours, Mr. Oscan stopped the truck and she got out, waving goodbye as his truck limped on down the road. She'd walk from here. The City of Ancients wasn't far, as she remembered, about an hour afoot. Besides, she rather enjoyed the exercise.

Vincent:

Holed up in a shallow cave hidden deep in the woods, Vincent lay curled on his side, recovering from the previous night's activities. Through sheer will alone, he had at least been able to confine his transformation to the first and second stages only. His red cloak lay within an arm's reach, as did his brass-shod boots and gun belt. His other clothing he had already replaced. His heart still thumped off-beat now and then, reminding him of the tremendous strain of allowing the monsters out, especially after so long a time.

The more often he allowed himself to transform, the easier it was, though no less painful. He simply couldn't trust himself enough to do it more often. The times when he had done so in battle, even though he was almost fully in control, Vincent could tell it disturbed his comrades. Cid was the most vocal about it, though Valentine could hardly blame him. It was almost better that the near-nauseous or mistrustful looks cast his way by most other members of the group.

Over time, they had come to appreciate his darker skills, though it was a good bet that part of their initial opinions still stood. Clad fully in black, with only his pale, barely visible skin contrasting, he lay there, half dozing the day away. Night would come soon, and he would rouse then. He had little else important to do at the time. The blood from his kills of more monsters and animals than he could remember still filled his nostrils with the scent of iron and plasma, though he had washed any visible traces away earlier. The scent always lingered for a few days, one of the reasons he avoided letting the darker sides of himself out more often.

In his half-sleep, memories tugged at the edges of his mind, battling away any chance of rest. Lucrecia. Hojo. Sephiroth... He pushed them away, thinking instead on other things. Marlene's near adoption of him as a sort of guardian when he was around her, Cid's snide and often vulgar comments on his own dour personality, Barrett calling Cloud a bitch. Even he secretly chuckled a little at that. Within his mind, of course. Cloud was a good person, a hero, but he did have a tendency to brood. It wasn't as if he could judge on that subject, Vincent knew.

He continued thinking over his life as it was now, or rather, the brief moments of contact with people he tentatively called friends.

Tifa:

Tifa's good mood lasted the afternoon long. She couldn't remember when she'd felt this carefree and altogether happy. It was good to be traveling again, even if she wasn't too far from home and would be returning on the morrow. And somehow, she knew this was the right thing to do. Perhaps she'd always known and, like Cloud, refused to face it. But her heart had immediately eased the moment she'd set it into action. A soft sigh broke her happy humming. Would that Cloud learn to do the same…

The landscape changed from sparse vegetation to more dense shrubs and finally gave way to the glorious white trees that marked the City's boundaries. While the path leading inward was rough and uncomfortable for any vehicle, Tifa walked easily along the path, her tennis shoes comfortable and navigated the terrain with alacrity. She'd planned to speak her words to the small river at dusk, when all was quiet and serene and camp there beside the bank, then catch Mr. Oscan on his return route tomorrow morning. All well and thought-out.

Indeed, she arrived at the specified place about mid-afternoon and set up her things in a small niche, perfect for just her. She silently removed shoes and socks and padded barefoot to the river's edge, gazing down into the crystal waters. Her reflection wavered back at her; she couldn't help but smile at the broken images. Like some of our dreams…she thought silently, then quickly banished the words away. She hadn't come here to feel sorry for herself. She'd come here to try to make peace.

Tifa crouched beside the edge and dipped one toe into the water. Cool, but not overly chilly. A mischievous idea occurred to her, followed by a maidenly blush and then a furrowed frown. Why not take a swim? No one was around for miles and it would do her good. The water was fresh and sweet and would be nice after such a journey just to get here. Before she could talk herself out of it, Tifa shimmied out of her clothes, laying them across a dry rock, and slipped into the water, the chill taking her breath as she swam about a bit.

But the healing properties eventually did their work and she frolicked merrily before simply slipping back and forth through the current, letting the waters wash her mind free as well as take the slight ache from her muscles. It was good to let go…

Vincent:

Preternatural senses detected another bi-pedal being within three miles of him, closer to two, and to the east. Near the water that served as Aeris' memorial. Had Cloud returned? Vincent rose from his cat-nap and shrugged into his trademark red cloak after donning the rest of his personal things. He was curious about the visitor that his ears had alerted him to, even over the distance. It was just as well anyway, rest was not going to come to him this day.

He exited his shelter and moved swiftly, silently through the trees, until he reached the path leading to the river, and followed alongside it behind the treeline. One could never be too careful. His still-sensitive nose scented that the person was female, surprisingly. A moment later, he identified her as Tifa, even before he lurked in the shadows of the ruined city to see her swimming in the water... without her clothes.

He looked away before she exposed anything important to view and debated on simply leaving. Was she here to pay her respects? Or was she looking for Cloud? Valentine guessed there was an equal chance for either. If she were here to give homage to the flower girl's memory, why would she be swimming? Well, Aeris had that affect on people, even in their memories she was able to invoke a sense of right, calm, and happiness. Well, in all but Cloud's mind, it seemed, for she conjured more there.

If Tifa were simply enjoying herself as a way of remembering her friend, then Vincent would be intruding if he gave any clue to his presence. However, if she were looking for Cloud and stopped to merely cool off and perhaps take her mind off things, then he may be of help in her finding him. Cloud was not known to answer his phone more often than not, so if she were unable to reach him that way, it wouldn't be uncommon.

With a soft sigh, he stepped out from his cover, quarter-turned away from her. "I didn't expect to find you here." His voice was low and smooth, quiet.

Tifa:

The cleansing river waters had indeed blessed Tifa with a sense of calm and serenity. Diving beneath for a long breath, feeling the silver waters envelop her body, she felt weightless and carefree, light. It was a good feeling. The guilt and sorrow surrounding her own heart gradually eased, a strange feeling since she herself didn't know she carried such. But here in this quiet hallowed place, Tifa's memories of the past were soothed and calmed, leaving her with a refreshed sense of duty and purpose.

It didn't matter that Cloud couldn't let go of his sorrow. That was a matter for Cloud himself; there was naught she could do for the man, save care for him. And she did. Tifa had even once convinced herself she loved him, but as she stroked through the calm cool water, she pulled the notion to the forefront of her mind and evaluated it. Did she love him? Well, certainly she did. Just not in the starry-eyed adoration of an angst ridden teenager. No, she'd matured beyond that, emerging a confident, caring woman, for which she was thankful. Her innate hope and love for life had indeed seen her through. She would have to let Cloud find his own way.

Suddenly, a sense warned her and she whirled around in the water, nearly getting it up her nose as she heard a familiar voice speak. When she could see clearly again, she immediately spied Vincent standing just at the treeline, his vermillion shadow starkly illuminated against the glowing trees.

Still treading water, she blushed hotly then shivered as she realized her predicament. How embarrassing… But she couldn't help a small smile, replying, "I know how that feels." Tifa gingerly paddled to the bank and hesitated. "No offense, Vincent, but would you please turn all the way around?"

Vincent:

He did turn, before she could even complete the sentence. While she exited the water and dressed, his keen ears noted the sound of the water cascading off her body in streams that ebbed to tiny droplets, the light slap of her wet feet against the ground, the rustle of fabric. He felt a little embarrassed that he'd found her in the way he had, though he hadn't seen anything worth being apologetic for.

With his eyes set stolidly on the white, crystalline trunk of a tree that no longer grew, he decided to offer some brief explanation as to his presence in the area. "It is quiet here. I've been staying here since I left Midgar." His voice remained in the quiet, neutral tone it always had. The digits of his left hand - or claw, rather - clicked together softly, a habit he'd developed similar to popping one's knuckles, and a tiny bit quieter.

"Are you here in remembrance?" He knew he didn't have to say of what

Tifa:

Tifa dressed quickly, grunting in a bit of exasperation as the damp cloth stuck to her skin and refused to budge willingly. But finally she had the customary black and white ensemble correct and walked back to her niche, by which Vincent was standing, wringing water from her hair as she went. She flipped the black strands back over her shoulder, nodding assent to Vincent's statement.

"It is quiet here. Very peaceful," she remarked, gazing around. A brow lifted as she glanced at his back, still to her. "You've been here all this time?" she asked, a bit surprised. But she grinned. "I'm dressed; you can turn around now."

Crouching place her shoes and socks beside her pack, she said after a bit of hesitation, "…I-we thought you'd gone to Junon, or perhaps with Barrett." She ducked her head, long hair hiding her face, a childish habit. "We didn't know," she said again, "or you could have come to live with us. Marlene would enjoy your company, I know."

Rising to her feet, she again gazed out over the soothing river. "Remembrance…" she echoed quietly. "Perhaps. Perhaps to repay a debt I didn't know was owed."

Vincent:

He turned back to her, watching her with an unreadable expression. Behind that mask, within his mind he wondered if she realized that her clothing was now hugging all her assets. It was hard not to notice and stare, but resolutely he kept his wine-red eyes on her face.

"I did not wish to impose, aside from the fact that - as much as I value the friendships of the others - I am used to being alone," he answered to her comments about his choice of where to live. And I didn't want to intrude on you and Cloud... He added silently. He didn't think he would have been able to stand idly by as someone as kind and compassionate as Tifa gave her love to someone who could return it, but instead chose to dwell over another. It was too familiar a situation, and quiet Vincent may have been, but blind he was not. Nor was he incapable of action, and interference from another was the last thing Cloud and Tifa needed.

Valentine respected Cloud, but a tiny bit of resentment was present for the man as well. They were "friends" of sorts, and Vincent hoped they always would be, yet that small seed of cool anger, the tiniest fragment, would stay as long as Cloud brushed aside the one person who had been there for him since long before Vincent had known them. His musings on all that were brief, but deep, before he pushed it aside to inquire on her last comment.

"Debt?" He didn't quite understand that part.

Tifa:

For want of anything to do, Tifa crossed arms and idly leaned against a tree trunk, head tilted. "You wouldn't be imposing, Vincent," she assured him with a gentle smile. "We have plenty of room." But an ironic snort permeated her words. "Especially since Cloud's never home. Besides," she said, resuming her innate cheeriness, "I can get you a job waiting tables." She winked at him.

But to his latter question, the merriment faded from her warm brown eyes and she nodded. "Yes. Aeris was also one of my companions; I feel responsible for her death. Even though we couldn't have saved her. Perhaps her death was fated, thus her presence in the Lifestream was necessary to defeat Sephiroth. And all that came after." Tifa looked up at Vincent. "And I can finally let the past go."

Vincent:

Vincent nodded, "I'm glad you can." He couldn't, not completely. Cloud couldn't, or refused to. Vincent mourned an all-but-dead lover who had broken his heart, but resolved to live on in atonement for letting not only her down... but her son. Cloud mourned the death of a girl who, in all honesty, he barely knew, and who had ultimately, Vincent believed, loved a man named Zack.

Since the Geostigma had been cured and Kadaj's threat put to rest, Cloud had improved only in that he wasn't as moody. He still, according to Tifa, left to do this or that until he felt like coming home. Vincent's gaze fell upon the cool waters where Cloud had stood days before.

For the moment he chose not to reply to her comment about him living with them, feeling the small need to admit what he guessed she already knew while a gentle breeze played with the ends of his onyx hair, blowing his bangs aside so that more of his face was visible.

"Cloud came a few days ago. He did not stay overlong, so I assumed he had business elsewhere..."

Tifa:

"Business elsewhere…" Tifa echoed quietly. "I doubt that, Vincent." A sigh escaped her. "No one's called the office directly in three weeks. Or if he is on a job, it's one he engineered privately and didn't bother to tell me." Her voice held a sting of frustration.

Smoothing it, she continued, "I'm not surprised he was here. The…anniversary was what made me think of my own trek here, honestly. But," she said, straightening from the tree, "I think I can go on, now, knowing that all is as it should be with the world. I'd planned to stay the night and journey back tomorrow; Marlene and Denzel are staying with a neighbor."

Tifa placed a tentative hand on Vincent's left arm, the brass cool to her fingers. "Won't you stay with me, Vincent? I'd be grateful for the company." As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Vincent was here because he chose to remain aloof. She'd always been a bit wary of that aura he projected, as if the very world were riding upon his shoulders, but he'd proven himself a true companion and friend countless times over. True, there was so much more than met the eye, but Tifa had learned long ago not to trust appearances and to see within. But she respected and trusted Vincent enough not to pry, especially since his past was shadowed and hidden.

Withdrawing her hand, she lowered her eyes. "…I'm sorry. I honestly didn't mean to intrude, Vincent. Now that you're here, I just don't want to be alone."

Vincent:

He could have, probably should have just nodded and said his goodbye to retreat the way he'd come. Yet truthfully, Tifa was one of the few people Vincent silently enjoyed being around. She never judged, never whispered behind her hand, always had a warm smile for him or anyone else who was blessed enough to even be an acquaintance. He was mildly surprised by her touch on his arm, though the claw had no feeling of its own he could feel the slightest pressure where it joined flesh beneath the metal. Despite his preferences... there were times when he felt truly, deeply lonely.

When her hand retreated, he felt both relief and regret. Had touch become that much of a rarity? A novel comfort and a small fear at the same time? Perhaps it was just where she had touched, or instead, what. Cid had clapped him on the shoulder a few times. Cloud had shaken his human hand. Yuffie had even pinched his side once, apparently trying to test the "tickle-meter" of everyone in the group.

He looked down at Tifa's hand, his mouth hidden behind the high collar of his cloak as he spoke with a softer tone, sincere, "... I would not mind. I have been a bit out of touch since Midgar. I would enjoy your company as well." There. With those words, Vincent felt a small bit of his burden lifted, only because he might give her a little comfort in being someone to share space with, and that he might take mutual comfort in the same.

Tifa:

It was the right answer. Tifa's bright smile returned and she immediately made room for him to sit at her small campsite, spreading the blanket wider to accommodate them both. She folded onto it, sitting cross-legged and began to finger-comb her drying hair, humming under her breath. She was terribly curious as to what Vincent had been doing out here all these months, but she wouldn't be nosy and outright ask.

Besides, she, as opposed to most of their other friends, was strangely comfortable in Vincent's oft silences. The man never seemed to waste words; he wasn't overly chatty. Which suited Tifa right down to the ground. With day after day of childish prattle, the companionable silence was more than welcome.

After a time of sweet quiet, perhaps an hour or so, Tifa glanced over at the red and black clad man. "How are you doing, Vincent?" she asked quietly, concern in her voice. And what are you doing out here, all alone? She felt stupid for not asking sooner, but all her focus had been on Cloud and Aeris' memory.

"No other…little incidents have been happening, have they?" She referred to the occurrence six months ago, when Kadaj and company had nearly resurrected a nightmare.

Vincent:

He sat on the blanket, spaced a little more than a foot from her, with his left leg drawn up, knee bent so that his left arm could prop on it at the elbow, where the claw began. The other leg stretched out a way before him, long and adorned in leather and buckles. His human hand pressed against the blanket at his side, closest to her. He was thankful she didn't prattle on like some did, and together they silently observed the sky dimming from day to night.

She spoke to him just before the stars twinkled into view in the darkening firmament. He didn't look at her as he replied as positively as he could without lying outright, "I am fine." Her second question was easier to answer, "No, all seems well enough here. A while back I had heard of some small rebellions against the remainder of Shin-Ra Corporation... yet that is nothing new."

He knew from her tone that she wanted to ask something more, but Vincent would volunteer nothing else just yet. His reasons for being here would probably be hard for her to fully understand, without him explaining a little more to her than he cared to do.

Tifa:

Tifa nodded. "There will always be rebellions, just as there will always be Corporations." She didn't press; she knew he preferred to keep things to himself. If he said he was fine, she wouldn't argue. But why was he still out here? Her lips twitched. She supposed he had his reasons, most of those being buried in his painful past.

But dusk was falling and she'd come here for a reason. As the stars twinkled down through the glade, Tifa reached inside her pack and withdrew a carefully wrapped bundle. Upon opening it, she laid the bouquet of cut flowers aside for a moment, then rose with it and walked to the water's edge, still barefooted.

Tifa knelt down beside the water's edge and closed her eyes, letting the memories of past companions flood behind her closed lids. Aeris, she said silently, my heart aches with the knowledge we couldn't protect you from your unfortunate fate. But you have watched over and kept us safe through further trials, my friend, and I wish you only joy and happiness from now until eternity. May you find rest at last.

One by one, she placed the flowers, long stemmed and in full-bloom, atop the glassy surface and watched them disappear into the distance, her heart lightened. "Farewell," she whispered, done with her benediction.

Vincent:

Vincent watched as Tifa let each flower fall to a watery grave to join the place where Aeris' body had no doubt been absorbed into Lifestream itself. He himself had done the same with a single flower the night after Cloud had left, saying his wordless thanks to the girl for helping to stop what they could not, and more for using her sway with Planet to accept the tragic Kadaj into Lifestream. He wasn't sure if she was able to allow Loz and Yazoo to join him there, their bodies had been gone when he and the others had picked Cloud up, nearly dead after the final attack on him. He did hope that all three had been able to find peace, of some sort.

By the time Tifa rose and turned back to him, he was gazing at the stars, their light, along with the ethereal light of the forest itself, reflecting in his red irises, giving his pale skin a strange, soft glow. Without even looking directly at her, he noticed the light illuminating her in a similar manner. She really was lovely, and in his heart Vincent thought that her qualities exceeded what credit and attention Cloud gave to her. Even Cid and Barrett at times expressed small amounts of anger at the man for seeming so cold to her. Or, at least, they had shown as much.

Since the Kadaj incident, all had assumed that Cloud would come around and he and Tifa would be together without restrictions. Even Cid, with his brash nature and loud, obnoxious mouth, had come to show more care for Shera. Vincent gave a small, hidden smile at that thought. Finally he looked at Tifa, encouraged by his continuing train of thought to inquire, "Do you feel at peace now?"

Tifa:

Her steps were slow and measured, although soft and light, as she made her way back, sitting down beside Vincent once more and gazed at the stars. "I think so," she answered, voice soft and hushed. "I don't want to stay in the past, there's so much suffering and pain. The future, although uncertain, is bright and filled with hope. Just look at Marlene and Denzel," she smiled. "If we don't have hope for them, how can we have hope for ourselves?"

It was strange, she thought. Sitting here in this sacred place, sharing her innermost thoughts, hopes and fears with Vincent. Strange, but infinitely comforting at the same time. Tifa looked down at her lap, hands idly plucking at a loose thread.

"I know what you all think," she said suddenly. "About Cloud and me." Tifa took a deep breath, then the words just poured from her in an unstoppable fountain. "When…after the Kadaj incident, things were better. Rufas Shin-ra helped Cloud get the business back off the ground, gave us some really good contacts for long term business. I persuaded him to move into the bar with us; Marlene and Denzel were still sharing the smaller bedroom and…" she blushed hotly but pushed on, "Cloud and I had the other."

Clearing her throat, she went on. "Things were busy; there was plenty of business, thanks to all the construction companies coming into Midgar to rebuild and repair. They always need good couriers. We signed a year long contract with the largest; meant steady work and a constant paycheck, but that's when things started to deteriorate. Cloud kept missing messages, he didn't make the runs in time, he got lost a few trips…and then he just…stopped caring again, I guess. He would always be gone for days at a time; eventually, those turned into weeks."

She paused, took a breath and then sighed. "He stopped sleeping at home. We would only see him when he came to change clothes or get whatever he needed." Tifa lifted her head and stared into nothingness.

"He backslid to where he was before everything happened. We lost the contract; I had to run the bar double shifts to keep money coming in, while keeping everything from the kids. Barrett and the others dropped by every now and then, but no one could stay very long." A slim shoulder shrugged. "They'd ask me how Cloud was and I'd just smile and say 'Fine', when what I really wanted to do was scream and break things." She chuckled sadly.

"I know I used to love him, Vincent. I did. We were the best of friends when we were young. I always knew he'd be there for me. But…" her head lowered again, long locks hiding her face, "…he's not." Her voice fell to a whisper. "And I don't know if I care anymore, Vincent." Tifa's eyes closed.

"How can you love someone so much and they not see it? How can you go from that kind of love to this…nothing I've been feeling…?" Her fist clenched on the blanket. "I don't know what to do anymore…"

Vincent:

He let the silence hang in the air for a moment after her quiet torrent of confessions, his eyes tilting their crimson gaze from stars to grass at the wash of familiarity at her words. He'd known, as he had been thinking, that the two of them shared very similar situations. Yet to hear it come from her mouth in such a soft voice that walked a line between despair and apathy, Vincent felt his own ghosts brushing unwanted caresses over his numbed heart. His voice was barely audible when he broke that heavy silence, glancing at her hands as she twisted them in the creases of the blanket, strong fingers worrying at the threads.

"If you ever found real answers to those questions, I would hope you'd share them with me." There was a ring to his tone of admission, sympathy, and regret at the same time, and still a tiny bit of comfort that can only be shared by two people enduring the same type of pain. Before he could think better of it, and Vincent was still choosing careful words, he went on, "Tifa, I know - as everyone in our little group does - that you care for Cloud, and to whatever degree, he does care for you, too. But there is another he cared for, and infatuation always dilutes our better judgment. I am the last man who should offer you advice..."

That was the truest thing he could say. His only relationship, hell, his whole life, had been a train-wreck. Not only had it cost him every trace of the shy-but-friendly person he used to be, his heart, his soul and normality, but it had cost his lover her life and her son even more than that. Ultimately, his inability to do something of worth to stop Hojo had nearly cost the life of the very Planet itself, and all those on it.

All because he loved a woman too much to let her go, and not enough to force her to see what she was doing was wrong. No, he could never give advice to anyone of what they should do, aside from avoid ending up like he had. A look at his friend's face - and he did indeed consider her to be a friend - told him that he could, however, help relieve even a little of her stress.

"If the invitation is still open, and Cloud has indeed put you under such financial and emotional strain... I would stay with you until you get things in order. I am accomplishing little here, anyway." Quiet, smooth, and to the point, true to his very nature. He looked back to the stars, awaiting her answer and wondering why it made him feel anxious.

Tifa:

For the first time in a very long time, Tifa couldn't even remember when, she was unable to halt the tears that flooded her eyes at Vincent's quiet offer. The honesty, the genuine caring of his voice just washed over her, nearly breaking her down. How long had it been since a tender friend offered her recluse and shelter? She honestly didn't know. All she knew was that she was tired of having to be the backbone of things, to support everything else in her world else it come crashing down in a shattered landscape. She was so weary…what would it hurt to simply lean on another for a while? Not a thing.

Almost unconscious of it, she reached out and slipped her arm beneath Vincent's, leaning her forehead to his broad shoulder, eyes closed against the torrent of tears, though a lone sniffle managed to escape. The other hand crept to join as well and Tifa latched to Vincent as if he were the last steady anchor in the world.

"You understand," she managed to whisper. "I can't be Aeris, Vincent. No matter how I might have wished to. Why can't he love me for me? Am I so unworthy?" She shook her head, pulling her self-pity aside and replacing it with firm defiance. "No," she said, a bit stronger. "Either he does, or he doesn't. I can care for him, but I can't freeze. I have to go on. If he wants to stay in the bog of despair, so be it. I want to be free of it."

Falling silent once more, she just leaned against Vincent, the soft sounds of evening and the slight rasp of crimson fabric tender upon her ears. After a long moment, she replied, "Your invitation is always open, Vincent. Never doubt that, not ever."

Vincent:

Valentine fought the urge to go rigid at her touch. Because he sat to her left, she was linked to his flesh and blood arm, and even through fabric, buckles and leather, he could feel warmth in her touch. He did not pull away, only sat there, turning his head to look down at the mane of dark chocolate hair that now rested against his shoulder. He didn't need his unnatural sense of smell or hearing to know she was in tears.

As her words escaped in a rush, then halted and turned to resolve, Vincent found that he felt strangely relieved. Relieved that she could keep her eyes forward and not look back on the pain she dragged with her, so unlike he had been. There were similarities between them, yet profound differences in some aspects. He was almost proud of her, knowing what it must take to be able to think like that, if only for the time being. He did hope it was a permanent change in her. And if his offer had acted as a small tourniquet thus far, he felt a little of his guilt lessen in knowing that - in his pain and experience - he might help someone else overcome what he had not been able. He was silent, with only a nod to her promises.

At her last statement, his arm pulled from her grip to rest almost awkwardly over her shoulders, laying some of that heavy red material over her back as gloved fingers clamped gently on her right shoulder. It lacked the casual, good-hearted warmth of a friend familiar with hugs and other gestures of affection, but the fact that he allowed even this unsure half-embrace surprised even himself, to a degree. He didn't mind.

Tifa was the backbone of their group, the glue that often held everyone together in tough situations and soothed ruffled feathers of egotistical males and females, with a smile that could warm an emotionally frigid room. He'd seen her do it many times during the group's adventures. Now, she need to be held together, by anyone who had the time and understanding. He had both. He replied simply with his eyes gazing into the reflection of the stars on the water's surface, "Then I will go back with you tomorrow."

Tifa:

It shocked her as he shifted; immediately she tried to jerk away, afraid she'd overstepped the boundaries. But she eased once again as Vincent draped his arm about her shoulder, the brush of leather to skin strangely chilling. The cool sleekness of his cloak surprised her, however, where it trailed along her arm.

Accepted thus far, Tifa's mind entertained wild ideas of slipping further into the dark embrace, but resolutely threw brakes on her brain. She knew she longed for touch, strong arms in which to get blissfully lost. But her former lover had been abruptly denied her and Tifa was again alone. And this was Vincent. It wasn't fair to burden the man with her problems and issues. He had enough of his own to cart around, that she knew. Her heart wrenched at the reminder.

Yet she couldn't help a sudden rush of warmth to him, for his presence, his kind words, his offer, his understanding most of all. She felt like a child, small and afraid. So Tifa couldn't help scooting closer to Vincent, hip nearly touching his as she resettled her temple upon his shoulder. Her gaze followed his, out over the river. Arms crossed over her chest, she sighed softly and said, "Thank you, Vincent. I'd like that. And I know Marlene will be thrilled to see you again."

Vincent:

Vincent was glad she seemed to settle into his shoulder more. To him, it felt plain strange to have anyone so close. Strange in a positive way, in this case, but strange nonetheless. He put his claw flat against the ground behind him a few inches to support a little of his weight so that he could shift his posture to lean back some. His other arm he kept around her shoulders, and couldn't help being reminded of nights when he'd had his arm around another beautiful woman. The memory was quickly thrown to the back of his mind.

"It's nothing," he said, his own way of saying that she was welcome. He chuckled very softly, briefly. "Marlene asked me when I would come for a visit. I suppose it is overdue..." The girl had pestered him about it the last two times she'd called him, in her sweet, childish way. He could nearly hear the pout she was wearing when he had just said, "I'll think about it," in the way that she had obviously learned meant, "Probably not but I don't want to be bugged about it anymore."

Vincent really had to wonder how Tifa found the time to raise and school both children, feed who knew how many others, work not one but two shifts at the bar, likely by herself at times, and try to salvage her and Cloud's business while worrying over him. Now that he knew that Cloud had gone off on his own so much, Vincent felt a little badly for not checking on her sooner, and wondered why no one else had noticed how bad things had gotten.

Aside from that, he had missed them, a little. "I think I will enjoy being somewhere different for a while. And something to do."

Tifa:

"Yes, it is," Tifa seconded firmly, a maternal smile on her face. "I know we'll enjoy having you, Vincent," she assured him. The two companions remained thus for a while, letting the night and its hours pass them by. Tifa eventually fell asleep, pillowed against Vincent's side.

But a buckle became increasingly annoying and she stirred, murmuring quietly and shifted around, curling into a ball on the blanket, head pillowed on her pack. Tucking her feet beneath her, she yawned once and drifted into sleep, secure in the knowledge that Vincent was there and she was safe. One slim hand reached out and fingers curled in the vermillion cape, as if to reassure herself of his presence, even in the landscape of slumber.

Vincent:

For the entire night he sat there, unmoving except for the times when he would turn to watch her sleep. He wondered if she often did not sleep well. He never did. Sitting up, he dozed in that cat-like way of his, half in and out of wakefulness while somehow getting just enough rest for his body, if not his mind, which drifted in and out of senseless dreams and haunting memories. It always did this, but tonight the case was milder than most, without the most vivid imagery.

Dawn came, Vincent woke fully, but still remained where he was, silently awaiting the end of Tifa's slumber. The sun rose, sparkling over the water in a cheery display of oranges, pinks and lavenders. The same glow crept towards them, then overtook them. Still, he waited, knowing she needed the sleep.

To be continued...