Chapter four – Ethereality

Tifa opened her eyes to soft sunlight filtering through the window. She was aware that she was lying on the couch in the living room, a blanket draped over her… It could only have been Vincent who had done that. Was he still here?

Slowly, she sat up and peered down to the end of the couch, smiling all of a sudden… He had tucked the blanket beneath her feet. Then she saw him, sitting in a chair by the window – and the relief warmed her. He seemed not to have noticed that Tifa had awoken, and had his chin rested thoughtfully on his hand, clearly immersed in his own thoughts.

Tifa felt like it would be a little rude to talk at that moment, for Vincent looked so completely absorbed in his contemplation that she thought she might disturb him if she spoke. Instead, she moved her feet off the couch and sat upright on it for a moment, watching him. The morning light made his face look very different. She always thought he looked a little out-of-place in the daytime, least of all in the living room of an ordinary city apartment, on what would look to anyone else like an ordinary morning.

"How did you sleep?"

Tifa almost jumped at the sudden sound of his deep voice, and before now, she wasn't aware that Vincent was now looking directly at her. She jumped out of her absent contemplation, soon feeling extremely silly.

She cleared her throat, gathering composure. "I slept fine, thank you."

It wasn't a lie, either. She felt like the night hadn't happened - not even a remnant of a dream lingered.

Vincent gave a slight nod of his head. "You must have been tired. It was only when I began to find it harder to keep you upright that I realised you were already asleep."

Tifa felt the hot colour rise in her cheeks. I fell asleep on him. I friggin' fell… asleep ON him. "Ah… Vincent, I'm so sorry - "

Vincent quietened her with a casually raised hand. "It was probably a good thing you were sleeping at all."

Tifa blinked. For someone characteristically so indifferent, he sure seems to know what's going on with me. "Well…"

"I can only assume sleep hasn't been a terribly welcome thing for you lately." he added. "But sleep also undoes many grievances."

Tifa looked down, a weary smile on her face. "You're the better judge."

Vincent kept his eyes on her. He said nothing more, but she could tell he was thinking deeply again. What about, exactly, was a whole other thing… That complex mind of his was a boundary that Tifa would need a miracle or two to cross.

"Thanks for tucking me in." Tifa said, with a bigger smile. "All it needed was a bedtime story…"

Vincent gave a soft, short exhaling sound that would have passed off as the smallest half-laugh. "For your sake, sleep was probably a wiser action."

Tifa giggled. He wasn't a joker, but she enjoyed whatever he decided to show of his dark wit. "I should go get dressed," she said, getting up from her seat and yawning contentedly. "I won't be long. We can go and meet Cloud later if you want to."

Vincent nodded. "I would like that."

With a grin, Tifa departed to her bedroom and began to rummage around for her clothes. Whilst changing, she replayed last night's encounter over and over in her head, wondering if it had indeed happened – if she was still in her bed, dreaming lucidly about a reunion she realised she very much wanted. And if it was still a dream, she hoped she didn't wake up any time soon.

:

He had watched as she ran up the stairs; that girlish spring in her step bestowing her a joyful innocence that he had always found intriguing, yet it had always made him feel uneasy. Someone so frivolous, placed next to him, was like looking at black and white… Night and day.

Vincent turned his head back towards the window, listening rather than looking. His acute hearing could pick up the sounds of people far away locking their doors, setting out into the town… And Tifa's faint footsteps from upstairs.

He listened out for the smallest, most insignificant of things. Her feet fell quietly along the floorboards, yet particularly hastily. She did not have to hurry for the fear of leaving him waiting. He could wait here for a long time.

He had spent the entire morning so far thinking of yesterday. Surreal may as well have been his middle name, but for whatever reason, he felt now as though he was recovering from being drugged. Had he indeed taken himself to Midgar, unassumingly, and ended up with a young woman crying herself to sleep in his arms?

But it's only Tifa, he told himself.

And she had been about to mention how 'they' had all attempted to reach him; how she herself had worried.

…He struggled to accept he was that greatly missed.

Vincent blinked, hard. Now was not the time to slip into contemplation. Since when had he let the emotions of others cause him to question why they were so? They were human emotions; that was all, and it wasn't as if he could control them.

"The kids are coming to stay here at the weekend."

Tifa's cheerful voice came from the foot of the stairs, taking Vincent by surprise not only for her very sudden entrance, but also because he was aware of the femininity of her clothing – a cotton vest, and a pale blue skirt. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen her wear much else than black leather.

Pretty little thing, isn't she?Chaos intervened.

I don't want you in my head right now, Vincent silently retorted. Be still.

Come now, my dear and miserable host. Let me help you! I hear the ladies can't resist a whisper in the ear…

Don't be vile. Harass me another time… not now.

Fine, ignore my good advice. Stumble along by yourself. It's what you do best after all…

Vincent ignored the demon's nagging voice. Swiftly coming out of a time lapse and casting this thought aside, he nodded at Tifa. "Denzel and Marlene?"

She smiled. "Yeah. You don't mind, do you? I'll make sure they won't get in your way… I know you like your peace and quiet…"

For a moment, Vincent frowned slightly in mild confusion. "Why would they..?"

"Oh." Tifa bit her thumb. "I forgot – I was going to invite you to stay here… You know, just for however long you need to. I insist. It's the least I can do."

"I am perplexed as to what you think you owe me."

She gave him a lopsided smile. "…Damages? For freaking out, falling asleep on you and possibly drooling on you with absolutely no warning? I dunno. Either way, there's a little spare room upstairs that you're more than welcome to use…"

He wasn't sure what to say. He felt slightly bemused.

"We could set you up somewhere else if you'd rather - "

"The spare room will be fine." Vincent interjected, a little hastily for his liking. Had that been a good idea? "I will not get in the way, I hope." And neither will you, Chaos – or so help me…

"In my way?" She frowned. "Hell, I hope you're not gonna lock yourself away in there! This isn't a bedsit – this is a house for you to use as much as I do."

Anyone else, he probably would have contested. But with as headstrong, genuine and insistent as Tifa was, he found himself able only to nod in agreement. He was relieved to see her smile beamingly in return.

"Then it's settled! So, what do we need…" Tifa began to mutter – seemingly to herself – "Clothes, towels… New bed linen. I need to write this down." Before Vincent could enquire, she had taken herself off to the kitchen and taken a piece of paper and a pen out of a drawer. "We can get it all at the market today before we meet Cloud… Or maybe this evening? No, perhaps it'll be too busy…"

"Tifa," Vincent said quietly, looking into the kitchen and observing her rapidly scribbling a list onto her piece of paper, "You really don't need to-"

"Sorry?" she asked, turning around and giving him a placid smile.

Play along for once, you dull fool. interjected Chaos. It's called being "accommodated." I'd know that better than you.

Vincent paused. "It's very kind of you to go to the trouble."

"Oh, it's no trouble!" Tifa grinned, finishing her list. "I think it'll be good for you, actually. You know, to get some new stuff."

Vincent didn't quite know what to say. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this…

Looked after? Cared about? Drat, now you can't mope in a corner for the rest of the day! Whatever shall you do?

Any other time, demon – NOT now.

…Grouchy bastard.

"And I could give that cloak a quick wash as well – the hem looks muddy." Tifa continued, inspecting it briefly.

"Tifa…"

"And a patch-up. I swear there weren't as many holes as that when I last saw it."

"Tifa."

She stopped, and looked at her feet momentarily. "Vincent, just… Let me, okay? I know it seems like I'm making a fuss, and maybe I am… But it's no problem for me. It makes me feel better if I can help people out."

He couldn't really oppose that. "I understand."

Tifa smiled appreciatively and placed the small list in the breast pocket on her dress. "Let's get this stuff bought before the noon rush. I've got no car at the moment, so unless someone can give us a lift to the market, we've gotta walk there… You don't mind, do you?"

Vincent shook his head. He was too used to enduring great distances to care about not having transport into the centre of Edge.

Tifa smiled briefly before taking a small black bag off the counter and slinging it over her shoulder, making her way out of the kitchen. Then, abruptly, she stopped and clapped a hand to her forehead as if she had just remembered something important. "Oh, I totally forgot… How silly…"

Vincent lowered his brow and quickly moved out of the way as Tifa darted back into the kitchen and pulled a few things out of the fridge. Before he could speculate, a small bottle of water and something wrapped in tin foil was shoved into his hands.

Tifa, going back and taking the same items out for herself, grinned at him in his puzzlement. "I knew these'd come in handy. Have one as we go along. Don't worry – I haven't poisoned any of it."

Vincent stayed silent and perpetually taken-aback. This seemed to be a feature of amusement for Tifa, who began to giggle.

"You can try and refuse food all you want, but I'm not letting you skip breakfast." she chirped, stuffing her own small foil package into her shoulder bag and going to open the door. "Most important meal of the day!"

However reluctant he felt, Vincent knew he could do nothing more than act in accordance with it all. Her cheerful assertiveness was something that he and their group of friends had learnt not to go against, because it simply wasn't the done thing around Tifa.

But shopping? Vincent couldn't remember the last time he'd been shopping. Come to think of it, he doubted whether he had ever done it… Well, properly, anyway. It was clearly a typical, everyday event for Tifa, who now owned her own apartment and had to look after both that and herself.

He wasn't sure how he would go about this. Perhaps he would just follow Tifa.

"Ready?" she asked, her face practically breathing optimism.

Vincent merely nodded, and then they were out the door of the apartment, walking past the houses, up the alleyways and nearer to the city centre. All the while, Tifa's face seemed to glow, as if she couldn't be happier to have some company. The whole situation was a little strange – eerily domestic. For the first time in so long, Vincent would be taking on a mundane task - going somewhere that held little significance.

This might turn out to be more difficult than it sounded.