"If everybody was satisfied with himself there would be no heroes."
-- Mark Twain
-. Wait For It .-
Chapter IV: Strange Heroes
One month pre-proposal
With a moan of utter exasperation, Tifa re-tied the black silk ribbon around her waist for what must have been the thirtieth time in a mere five minutes. Still, no matter how she did it (bow in the front, bow in the back, bow on the side, no bow etc. etc.) it just didn't look…right. Most probably due to the fact that the entire ensemble didn't look, in any sense of the word, remotely "right" on her overly athletic form.
The ill-fitted silk hung awkwardly from her chest and hips, making it appear as though she were wearing a bag of material. And the color, a shimmering pale yellow that the clerk on the catalogue hotline had insisted would perfectly match her complexion, made her feel like she was five-years old again playing the sunflower in a spring school play. She glanced down in longing to her usual leather vest, shorts and apron now draped on her bedroom's rocking chair, cursing herself for having no sense of typical feminine, 'motherly' style.
"Tifa? Are you done yet?" the sound of a tiny hand knocking on the door instantly fueled her with a desire to hide behind a rock. But Marlene had been practically bouncing off the walls from the moment she saw the garment bag being delivered about an hour ago, inexplicably impatient to see her in something other than leather or grayscale.
"Tifa!" repeated the voice, more high-pitched and whiny than it had ever been heard before. "I wanna see!"
"I'm coming. I'm coming. Hold your horses."
As the door finally opened with a flourish, Marlene's initial reaction was far from a comforting one. Wide eyes and dropped jaw that spoke volumes of shock, anxiety and, possibly, a little bit of loathing.
"I'm changing," she found herself announcing after a mere second under the little girl's scrutiny. But before she had successfully managed to grasp the door knob, a pink-slipper clad foot was already over the threshold.
"How did you get your hair like that!?" Marlene screeched while climbing up onto the edge of the bed so that she could better match their height difference, gesturing frantically for her to come closer.
Tapping the back of her scalp to remind herself of the style, Tifa did as she was told, dutifully stationing herself in front of the girl's waiting hands.
"It's just a loose bun, secured with some pins" she explained as she felt gentle fingers begin to poke and prod. "And the ribbon came with the dress. Do you like it?"
"You look like Amelia!" Marlene cooed, a twinge of obvious envy laced between her words. "You know, the princess from that movie? She was dressed EXACTLY like this."
Tifa tried her best not to laugh. The animated character of Amelia was about twenty pounds lighter, a foot taller and had rose red lips and infamously rare golden hair that bounced in perfect ringlets. But yeah, they did both have ribbons and knee-length sun dresses. That was where the comparison ended.
She decided to take the compliment anyway, desperate as she was for a smidgeon of self-assurance. For this was the dress she was going to wear when the adoption inspector came in a few days time. Her hopes, her plans, what felt like her entire future rested on this dress and the impression it made. It was quite the burden for a few yards of overpriced silk.
"Why thank you Marlene. That was very nice to say. I can do your hair like this if you want for your first day of-" Tifa paused, interrupting her offer to the obvious dismay of one expectant little girl.
Princess Amelia… the vision triggered something. Something about her dress…
"Tifa?" a tiny finger poked gently at her shoulder, prodding her to continue. "My hair?"
Distracted, Tifa strode over the mirror and yet again scanned the unappealing pillowcase shape of the garment. Amelia's dress was almost exactly like hers, but with a ribbon the fell directly below her breasts, not on her hips. The theory was confirmed as she, for the first time, noticed two almost invisible loopholes high on both sides that were obviously a guide to lace the ribbon, holding it in place. In what would hopefully be her last attempt, Tifa threaded the black silk through, around twice and tied it tightly to her ribs. Suddenly, it was no longer a bag. It was an actual dress.
"Aha!" she spun to face the bed with an exuberant smile, for some reason intensely proud of having deciphered the garment's riddle. "Better, right?"
"What do you mean better?" Marlene teased. "Didn't you know it was an empire-waist?"
"A what?"
"We're back!" interrupted a muffled voice from downstairs, followed the clicks of the locks being re-bolted.
Marlene's eyes instantly widened.
"Cloud! Denzel! You have to see! You have to see!" while giving the mattress a few extra bounces before jettisoning herself off of it and downstairs, Tifa took the chance to give herself one last once over. A few more tendrils of hair were pulled loose, the bow was re-tied as tightly as it could go, the layers of ribbon wrapped around her head were spread apart and crisscrossed and the dress straps adjusted to be slightly off-shoulder; just a little fine-tuning to enhance the effect. For Denzel's amusement of course.
When the outfit was as good as it was gonna get with the addition of matching yellow ballet shoes, Tifa strutted out into the hallway. But despite Marlene's best efforts to get them riled up, the boys were nowhere to be seen. Not all that surprising but still, for some reason, faintly disappointing.
"Come on Denzel!" Down the hallway, the youngest could be seen banging on the bedroom door she shared with her sibling. Her mouth fixed into an uncharacteristically deep scowl. "Let me in!"
"Marlene? What's going on?"
"I told Denzel that he had to come see you as Princess Amelia. But he just went straight to our room and locked the door!" she said this with her small fists on her hips, like she was reprimanding a puppy for doing something naughty. "And Cloud wanted to get the groceries in the fridge. He said I shouldn't bother Denzel but then I said-"
"If Cloud told you not to bother him, you should listen."
"But-"
"No buts. Besides, didn't we make a deal that if I tried on the dress, you'd finish your reading?"
Disgruntled but obedient, Marlene accepted the calloused hand offered to her and together they made their way back down to the bar. Once she was re-set-up with her history textbook, notepad and pencils, Tifa tip-toed toward the kitchen, following the tell-tale sounds of clinking glass.
"Cloud?"
"Yes?" He had his back to her, his arms laden with juice containers as they were put one by one on the highest shelf of the pantry, out of the reach of certain tiny hands that didn't know their sugar limit.
Tifa gave Marlene's studious form one last glance before closing the door behind her. "What's wrong with Denzel? He barricaded himself in the bedroom without a word."
He paused in his task then, only for a second, debating. She could sense the usual struggle going on in his mind. The pull of his natural need to be silent, the desire to keep Denzel's secrets, and the terror of letting her "invade" either of those sanctities.
"It's nothing," he choose to say at last while putting the last two containers away a little more aggressively than usual.
It was the only answer she couldn't accept.
"Cloud…" her voice had both a demanding and pleading lilt to it. One that reminded him that he didn't have to talk to her, there would always be that choice, but it would be greatly appreciated if he did.
His response was only silence, impenetrable except for the sound of his footsteps moving toward the counter to collect the canned goods.
Tifa fought down the urge to run a frustrated hand through her hair, seeing as it was currently occupied by ribbon and pins. It seemed like every time she was just starting to get it through her head that he had changed, he would do something to instantly revert back to his closed, autonomous self. The back and forth of it was almost more exasperating than just dealing with the old, absent Cloud.
"I know he trusts you. I know you two have the male-bonding thing happening…"
"That's not it," Cloud interrupted, his gaze still fixed on the cans as he organized them on the shelf. Fruits & veggies on one side, soups on the other.
"Whatever. I understand! It's just…if it affects the entire household like this, you have to tell me something. At the very least instructions on how to manage it."
"He just needs to be left-" the words died on his lips as he finally glanced over his shoulder to meet her eyes. Well, he had probably meant to focus on her eyes.
"What are you wearing?"
The question was asked calmly, casually. Like it was nothing more than an inquiry about the weather or how her stock of wine was holding up. But something about the intensity of his stare forced her to stagger backwards a little.
Or maybe it was just her imagination…
Or wishful thinking…
"It's a dress," she stated rather lamely, defensively smoothing the fabric down across her abdomen.
Cloud's lips curved upward a little. Only a little, but enough to get her heart to skip a beat.
Gaia forbid he ever discover how truly disarming his smile was. More so than any of his SOLDIER skills.
"I can see that it's a dress," he said in a tone that was bordering on blatant mockery. "But why? I thought you hated that stuff."
She opened her mouth to respond, to hastily assure him that such impractical and costly garments weren't some sort of new, secret addiction that would blow the already emaciated family budget. But then she thought better of it.
If he wanted to have his secrets, she deserved a few of her own.
"Tell me about Denzel and I'll tell you about the dress."
Cloud exhaled loudly, his usual vacant expression snapping back into place before he returned to his task of can sorting. Apparently ignoring her.
She wasn't buying it.
For he was lingering just a little too long at the shelves, making sure all the labels faced the front and were positioned perfectly on the very edge – something a veteran trained for efficiency would never have fathomed doing. If these past few months of living and working with him had taught her anything, she knew he simply needed some time to mull and digest. And so, with the grace and patience worthy of her new maternally-themed outfit, Tifa sat herself at the kitchen table, flipped open a magazine she kept for recipes and began humming a cheery tune.
He broke earlier than expected. A mere twenty seconds into the first verse of 'Waltz de Chocobo'.
"Just answer me this," his sentence was preceded by stomping footsteps and followed by the screeching of a chair being pulled out to sit across from her. Tifa flicked the magazine closed and met his irate stare with what she hoped was a tastefully restrained smirk.
"Yes Cloud?"
He took a shallow, shaky breath. "Is it for a date?"
If she had been drinking anything, she would have spit it across the room. If she had been washing dishes, a glass would have been crushed into her hand. As it was, she kept herself composed, maybe only letting loose a twitch or two, and cleverly remained completely and utterly silent.
As much as he could dish it out, Cloud sure couldn't take it.
"Denzel and I went to that new grocers'," he began after a defeated groan. "The owners are from Bone Village and had avoided technology. They didn't recognize me."
Tifa nodded, encouraging him to continue.
"So they…they thought Denzel was…my son."
Again, Tifa nodded but her smirk was slowly beginning to fade. As easy a mistake as it was to make, what with both their dark blue eyes un-tamable hair, still, it had never actually happened. Everybody in Edge simply knew that Marlene and Denzel were non-biologically related residents of 7th Heaven. Of course, with the WRO's new train system and more frequent visitors, it was bound to happen sooner or later and would probably gradually continue to happen more and more often.
Though she could already tell where this story was headed, Cloud continued.
"I was going to correct them, to explain, but then Denzel…Denzel he…"
"It's okay," she couldn't help but interrupt, her hands shooting forward to cover his on the table. If she known it was something so delicate, she never would have prodded. She had simply assumed that it had been a silly, perhaps slightly shameful story. Like if they had played a game of catch with the expensive eggs; an equal trade for the dull explanation of her dress' purpose. "You don't have to say it. I know he's sensitive about his parents. I'll talk to the owners tomorrow."
"No. It's not like that." Cloud shook his head, his wolf earring jingling with the movement. "It's that he…he encouraged them."
At this, Tifa could only blink stupidly. "He what?"
"He went on and on. He talked to them for nearly ten minutes about how we used to live on the Midgar Plate. And how we set up the bar after Meteor. About how, yes, I was kind of young to have a kid his age but I took good care of him all his life. And how he looked forward, in the future, of being exactly like me. But less…blonde…"
She would have laughed if the story as a whole hadn't been so shocking. As much as Denzel was known to hero-worship Cloud, as proud as he was to have a guy like him as a guardian, never had he shown the desire to make it more than that. "What did you do?"
Cloud's shoulders rose slightly as a pathetic half-shrug. "It was awkward for a while after we left. Then I told him that as flattered as I was, he shouldn't feel the need to lie about his past. I think…I think it was more about his pride than about me. He didn't want them to know that he was an orphan or that he had had geostigma. He wanted at least one person in this city to not know how terrible his life was. To treat him like a normal kid and not a charity case. He's…embarrassed."
"Did he tell this to you?"
"No. I could just tell."
"Did he say anything after you left the grocers'?"
"No."
Before she could properly reflect on her actions, Tifa was out of her seat and heading for the stairs with every intention of kicking down the bedroom door. But an inhumanely tight grasp to her wrist kept her from taking more than two steps.
"Let him alone for a bit. He needs it," Cloud warned, his expression one of admonition and sincerity.
"He needs to talk to someone about this," Tifa insisted while furiously trying to wring herself free. "He's probably wracked with guilt, thinking he betrayed his parents' memory and offended you!"
"He knows I'm not offended. He knows I'm here. He'll come down when he's ready."
"Cloud!"
"Tifa…trust me."
She stopped struggling then, her eyes glued to his unyielding ones, measuring this apparently negligent demand. Though she had long since been able to accept him as an important part of the household, it has always been a supporting role. Like the foundation stilts that kept this place up; without him they could continue to exist but would have to live on a slightly awkward angle.
However, slowly but surely, he was beginning to take on more vital positions. She may, dare she to think it, even be completely unequipped to handle something this. Not only because of the male-to-male thing, nor even because he too had lost a father at a young age and lived in scorn because of it. But because he had more patience. Because he knew when someone needed their space. In the analogy of the house, she was the mere walls, the shelter. And he, when necessary, became the doors. The doors that kept the scary monsters (or nosy mother-figures) outside where they belonged.
Though, of course, the 'being a guy' thing didn't hurt his value either…
"Fine," Tifa conceded with an over-exaggerated glower.
With yet another infinitesimal grin, Cloud tossed her hand loose so that it fell back to brush against the material of her dress. Reminding her of their deal.
"And if you must know, the dress is for my interview with the adoption inspector."
"Is that today?" His eyes frantically shifted around to take in the sight of the sink full of dishes, still un-packed groceries and window bench covered in doll's clothing.
"Don't worry," she assured him with a giggle. "I don't have an official appointment yet but you'll know when it is. We'll allll be scrubbing this entire place down for DAYS prior. I guarantee you that."
"Oh. Good."
They stared at each other for a while after that, him from his chair and she standing near the exit. She started to fidget under his scrutiny, shifting her balance from one foot to another like Marlene did when she had to go to the bathroom. And yet he continued to just sit there. Watching her. Riveted by the way the material caught the sunlight and seemed to float to catch up to her every swaying movement.
"Cloud?"
"Hmm?" His lids flittered a few times before shooting up to meet her gaze, eyes wide and a little too purposefully stuck to her face. As if it was taking all of his willpower to keep them there.
Tifa bit her lip and titled her head, suddenly feeling not only curious but a tad bit daring. Not to mention determined to get her gil's worth out of this sunflower costume. "Why did you think I was dressed like this for a date?"
His mouth opened, then closed. Brows shooting up, then narrowing. After a full minute of frantic consideration, he finally came up with this oh-so-brilliant justification; "Because. It's just a little…suggestive."
Half of her wanted to kick him and the other wanted to burst out laughing. For the dress was by far the most skin covering-thing she owned, and he had often seen her in much more 'suggestive' states of dress in the past, both formal and informal, but had chosen to avoid commenting on all those such occasions.
She debated asking him what exactly he thought she was 'suggesting' with a knee-length cut, flat shoes, her mother's pearl earring and actual ribbons in her hair. Just to see how he would react. But that would have been considered crossing the boundary; that thin, invisible little divider between them that kept their relationship civil and respectful. At least until she fully trusted him again. At least until this adoption nightmare was over. She couldn't afford a scandal now, or to scare him away and upset the balance of the household.
Besides, on second thought, the neckline was a little bit low she guessed. Not enough the reveal her scar, but enough to warrant his critique.
"I…I'll get a cardigan and stockings. Will it be okay then, you think? Proper enough?"
The mako-blue eyes returned to her face from wherever they had wandered during the silence. His expression seemed almost vaguely sad at the suggestion, as if the very idea of changing anything would be heartbreaking.
But he nodded his approval anyway, summarizing his opinion in one, simple word.
"Perfect."
Perfect…
"I'm finished! I'm finished! I'm finished!"
Marlene burst through the kitchen door with the delicacy of an intoxicated, angry bull, her notebook waving proudly in the air before presenting it to Tifa. "Two-hundred and twenty-three (I went over) words on the coal mines of North Corel! Can we watch the Princess Amelia movie now? Please, please PLEASE?! It's been so long…"
"I dunnooo…" Tifa muttered will checking over her work, proudly noting that the cursive was much more uniform and almost completely legible. "You still haven't touched Mathematics yet today."
"But it'll be too noisy for a movie once the bar opens! I'll do Math then!"
"If it's too noisy for a movie, it'll be too noisy for homework."
"Nu-uh! Math is easy! I could do it like…while getting a ride on Cloud's great-granpa the chocobo!"
This was a new running gag between them at the man's expense, and they both fell into burst of sniggers while sending him apologetic glances toward the table.
Cloud feigned offense, arms slowly rising to cross his chest as he slunk further into the chair. "And here I was about to not only set up the movie for you, but make pop corn as well. But I guess the descendent of a chocobo would be too clumsy, huh?"
"No Cloud, no!" Tifa's hands were instantly dropped as she ran over and threw herself onto his lap, arms wrapped desperately around his neck. "I promise. I'll NEVER say your great granpa's a chocobo again! Just let me watch Princess Amelia! Tifa looks just like her you know?"
If he had had any plans of keeping up the charade of being snubbed, he dropped them the moment he heard this rather interesting tidbit of information. "Really?"
Tifa rolled her eyes. "Pft. Yeah. Maybe after major, unnatural surgery. Or if you've had about ten shots of tequila."
"Tequila?" Marlene repeated, her nose scrunched up in disgust. "Does that really make you look more like a princess?"
"No. Not at all. Ignore her," Cloud insisted in his commanding voice while standing up and bringing Marlene with him toward the living space in the hopes of a distraction. But not before shooting Tifa a look over his shoulder that seemed to sarcastically say 'Thanks. I always hoped the girl would become an alcoholic before puberty.'
Tifa could only shrug and shoot him one back that assured, at the very least, she would be extra careful to lock the cabinets when she closed up from now on.
They never did get to finish the movie. The groceries needed to completely put away, the dishes done, the meal prepared and then, of course, the Saturday night unending slew of customers. But as a special treat considering it was the family day off tomorrow, thanks to Cloud's gentle coaxing and Marlene's loud begging, Tifa resigned herself to the idea that they could finish the last forty-five minutes of the film after closing. As long as everyone helped out with the clean up.
The pop corn was just finishing being popped when Denzel finally came downstairs, lured by the smell of butter and the sound of laughter as Cloud tried to catch kernels Marlene threw at him with his mouth. No questions asked, Tifa followed Cloud's lead of instantly absorbing him into the chaos of their mini-party by asking him to test her popcorn mouth-catching abilities as a challenger.
Tifa and Denzel won by a landslide, granting him the esteemed privilege of choosing the next morning's activity. But for now, for tonight, Princess Amelia was waiting to be kissed out of her two-year slumber.
It was lucky that they were starting the movie from the middle, for as much as Denzel complained about being forced to watch a 'girly' film, he quickly became entranced by the swordplay and epic dragon battle. If only because he liked to point out all the things the prince was doing wrong.
Heroes aren't supposed to be so unprepared.
By the second-to-last scene, both kids were fast asleep. Marlene in Tifa's lap from the left, clutching the now butter-stained silk, and Denzel against Cloud's right shoulder.
"Now watch this, how cheesy is this line?" she muttered to him through a mouth full of popcorn. "'You are my soul mate, my sweetheart, you are my dream come true, from now until the end of time I give my heart and soul to you.' I mean, they just met for goodness' sake! What's with all the hoopla? Why not keep it simple? If a guy proposed to me like that, so randomly, I'd laugh him out of town. And no one in their right mind would blame me."
"I dunno…" Cloud interjected, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "There's a reason this keeps coming up in movies. Its…romantic. Isn't it?"
As hilarious as the notion of Cloud defending the motives of an animated prince was, for some reason Tifa felt strongly about making her point heard. Especially as the Princess Amelia was now riding away into the sunset on the back of a horse with a man she didn't even know the name of. "I guess. If your definition of romance is a complete and utter lack of common sense."
"You know they say that the very essence of romance is uncertainty."
"Who says that Cloud? Who are they?"
"Just watch the movie Tifa."
The music burst out triumphantly, the happy couple was floating down the stairs of a church, Princess Amelia in her same empire-waist, knee-length sundress that was now made white and accentuated by glitter– telling of the laziness of the animators. They shared a passionate kiss when they make it to the bottom and the crowd cheers and rice is thrown and animal friends that had helped her on her journey are on the sidelines waving in regal garments.
Cheesy? Yes, it was undoubtedly so. But also, in a completely unfeasible way of course, incredibly alluring.
"The beginnings of a true family."
The words escaped her lips before she properly process them. Luckily, they were mumbled in a low enough tone that she could pretend he didn't hear it. And knowing Cloud, he was more than likely to gratefully assume that nothing had been said. At least, the person he had been three months ago would have pretended.
The present day Cloud had turned his head from the screen and was now fixing her with a stare. A stare she tried her best to ignore by staying focused on the TV. But then, out of her peripheral vision, she saw his hand reach forward. There was barely any time to acknowledge the movement before she began to feel it instead; leather-covered digits softly stroking some loose tendrils of hair behind her ear.
A touch so soft and innocent but still, somehow, exhilarating. And undeniably way, way past the unspoken restrictions of their 'boundary'. Not that she cared in that moment. Not really. Not with the Princess' instrumental love-song playing in the background as the credits rolled. Not even with the kids resting so peacefully near them. If he tried, if he leaned in just then…
"Popcorn."
Tifa blinked, her inexplicably half-closed eyes suddenly struggling the focus in the dim light.
His hand, the one that had seconds ago been touching her so tenderly, was now retracted. And pinched between his fingers was one single kernel of popcorn. Obviously having been retrieved from the rat's nest that had been her elegant, motherly hair-do.
"Th-thank you." She mumbled, eagerly snatching the snack from him and popping it into her mouth, as if hoping to absorb the moment.
The movie was over, the kids asleep, so there was nothing more to do but bring them upstairs and get some rest themselves. They said goodnight in the hallway as they always had and then headed to their respective rooms. But still, for their own distinct, personal reasons, neither of them got any sleep that night.
By two am, Cloud couldn't take it anymore. He was at his desk, phone in hand and completely oblivious of the consequences as he dialed the familiar number.
"Barrett," he greeted, ignoring the stream of threats and curses about the hour. "I need…your advice…"
Author's Note: A fast update for my awesome reviewers. Also, I'm horribly ill and have nothing better to do than write! Yayyyyyy for all nighters of fanfiction!
Author's Ramble: I do love when people challenge me about how I write my characters. Replying to reviews is half the fun of getting them. So please, if you have some concerns, SIGN your reviews or leave an email!
That being said, I wanted to clear up some problems people had with Tifa's little speech last chapter. Though yes, that one was written fast and not with the usual deliberation I put into their voices, still…it annoys me when people expect her to be so perfect. And comments like "Tifa would never say that! She loves him!" are met by me with a "Has a guy ever disappeared, leaving you with two children? Get back to me when that happens." Not to mention, she has already been known to chew Cloud out so it's not exactly BEYOND her capabilities. As the story writer Nojima once said: "Although there's a lot to Tifa's character, she's actually very much like any other woman who's been left behind by a man."
This quote was an import source of inspiration for me.
Seeing as such, as much as she cares for Cloud, it would be ridiculous for her to jump into his arms after the end of ACC I think. Taking him back into the house and continuing their routine was proof enough of how compassionate she is. But only an idiot would let such a guy instantly have any sort of non-replaceable role. They both have their issues and this story is not about how they shed their many discrepancies, but how they learn to appreciate and work with them. If FF7 teaches us anything, it's that life is messy. You have to let nature take its course, aided along but not overwhelmed by the bridges you build.
So yes, I did purposefully make Tifa untrusting and unsure. That's not because her character is that way (we all know how nurturing she is), but because she was burned so badly by him in the past. And she feels she needs to be careful, especially now that it's not only her heart, but the children's' that are at risk. It's an automatic defense mechanism that will take time to resolve itself.
Regardless of the family/trust problems of Tifa, the primary romantic barricade is Cloud himself. Upon every edit I try to simplify his lines, cutting them down to the basics so that we as readers can be as frustrated as she is with how unreadable he is. That's his main problem, his messages and hints being way too cryptic to come through. I meant for his offer to co-apply for the adoption to sound more like a business deal, which of course irked Tifa since he was taking it a little too heedlessly. She figured he thought he warranted the title of father merely because he helped pay for things.
This, of course, starts to change…as seen in this chapter. Cloud gets less cryptic (and surprisingly blunt as we see from chapter one) and Tifa is gradually letting him have his job of full, dependent father back.
Hoped that helped clear things up. Will eventually re-do chapter III but too lazy now. Till next one!
