"Isn't it the moment of most profound doubt that gives birth to new certainties? Perhaps hopelessness is the very soil that nourishes human hope; perhaps one could never find sense in life without first experiencing its absurdity..."

-- Vaclav Havel

-. Wait For It .-

Chapter IX: Signed and Sealed

There was quite a short list of people currently in the house who could have produced a scream of that caliber and tone. As well as a low number of equally frightening reasons that could spur that type of extreme reaction from her. Such facts which instantly caused both Cloud and Tifa's hearts to leap into their throats.

"Marlene!"

In a flash the adults disentangled themselves, and she already half way up the stairs by the time he managed to stand up. He caught up to her in the second floor hallway, racing to get to the bedroom door first so that he could kick it in, clearing the path for her more fluid attacks. But it was deemed unnecessary as something else, or more specifically, someone else caught their attention.

The couple simultaneously came to a skidding halt, turning not towards the children's' room but to Tifa's, eyes wide as they curiously contemplated the thick cloud of black smoke billowing out from under the door.

"What's going on?"

Marlene and Denzel, completely unharmed though obviously startled, poked their heads out of their room.

That left only one other, originally overlooked, person who could have been the scream's source. Also, coincidentally, a person who had a known habit of toying with dangerous materia. Materia that had been left in Tifa's unlocked jewelry box.

But no. Such a thought was absurd. Even Yuffie wasn't that irresponsible. Right?

No matter how obvious the answer was, Tifa still insisted on giving the benefit of the doubt. That is until the blaring fire alarm confirmed the worst case scenario, forcing her to switch gears into panic-protective mode.

"You remember what we practiced?!" she yelled at the two kids over the wailing siren. "Use the ladder outside your window! Meet us at the street corner! Be careful!"

Marlene and Denzel didn't need any more convincing seeing as, by then, the dense smoke had begun to darken the entire hallway. With the many electrical and natural gas problems Edge had been having alongside the looming threat of groups against the WRO's policies, they were thankfully well prepared for such spontaneous evacuations. And Cloud was mid-stride on his way to following, to make sure they got out safely, when a tight grip on his wrist held him back.

"Wait! Yuffie's in there!"

He almost tripped over his own feet in the midst of turning, the shock of this disaster's source rendering him thunderstruck. Not to mention the terrifying idea of what the ninja's dire intentions were in being here, in the bar, tonight of all nights, and setting things on fire.

"Yuffie!?" he called while waving a hand in front of his face in an attempt to keep the air breathable, still poised for retreat in case the girl's presence was but an evil hoax. "Are you in there?"

A clank.

A clink.

"Yeah!" she called finally, her voice surprisingly more annoyed than frightened. "One sec."

Tifa and Cloud shared a concerned glance.

A whoosh.

Then a splat.

And finally, a sizzle, followed by a cloud of steam and sudden gush of water that pooled from under the door up to their toes.

"Fixed it!" came a final, cheery exclamation, the enthusiasm of which made Tifa's stomach do a few flips.

When they finally got around to entering the room, Cloud being the one to turn the knob after noting her catatonic state, they were pleased to note that the damage wasn't as bad as expected. Then again, they had both prepared for missing walls, a blown-out ceiling, piles of coal dust as furniture and, perhaps, a few mangled limbs strewn about. In relative terms, Tifa's bed being the only victim was indeed a good thing.

And thinking of it in relative terms was the only way Tifa could keep herself from strangling the girl.

In the center of the room, where once her pristinely made, twin-sized comforter and mattress were, there was now only a smoldering metal frame, springs and bits of charred fabric. And among the threads of white cotton sheets were also, unmistakably, fragments of yellow silk; the tattered remnants of her modest and apparently "unsuitable" date dress.

Conveniently, the garment had become an innocent bystander of what was surely a random, unavoidable accident. An accident that probably hadn't meant to spread so far, and could have easily achieved the same result in a variety of less dangerous ways.

Tifa slapped a hand to her forehead and released an involuntary groan. "Wouldn't it have been easier and cheaper just to spill bleach on it or something?"

Yuffie grinned sheepishly, her intended excuses regarding 'stain-removal via open flame' cut off by a chain of raspy coughs.

While giving the younger woman an exasperated glare, Tifa strode over to the window and yanked it open while Cloud reached up to silence the alarm located above the door. The sudden silence, broken only by her hacking, seemed to multiply the already tense atmosphere tenfold.

"I was-" more coughing interrupted as Yuffie slyly attempted to return the glowing red and blue orbs back into their rightful places without either of the adults noticing. "I read- urggmm - somewhere that -ack! -heat helps- mmmggrrr."

Her words too broken and pointless to be heard, Tifa instead focused on the remnants of her bed and tried to find anything salvageable in the wreckage. Alas, even the boxes of old purchase orders she kept under the mattress had been reduced to nothing more than smoldering ashes. A quick glance to her right confirmed that the other garment bag, the Wutain's selection, had been left perfectly untouched on the rocking chair by the window. The sight of it began to bring forth a surprisingly tepid bubble of anger, overwhelmed as she was by the fact that it had all been for nothing anyway.

There would be no date tonight. There would be no reason to pin up her hair. No one would be serving her food for once. Luckily, there would be no opportunity to test whether she would have stomached the garment for a night out if it had indeed been the only option. And now she didn't even have a pillow to hug to her chest while wallowing a little in self-pity.

Life was truly harsh sometimes.

Sensing Tifa's disappointment, Cloud stepped in with one, firm hand on Yuffie's shoulder the second she finished coughing.

"I think you better go," he warned quietly, something in his tone implying that it was more a demand than a request.

"You know, uurgghmmm, you guys could be a little more sympathetic. I did almost just DIE."

"You almost injured us and the kids and ruined our home and businesses. I think we're even."

"Geez. Just trying to help."

"Well, I think I've received all the help I can handle," Tifa said with a small sigh, anger having dissipated in exchange for full blown dejection.

They passed a few more awkward moments in silence, the barmaid still pointlessly shuffling through ashes, Cloud becoming increasingly uncomfortable as he remembered his state of half-dress, and Yuffie feeling suddenly and uncharacteristically guilty for her rather foolish actions.

She didn't try to explain herself, didn't for once push onto them all the benefits of her little accident. Tonight wasn't about her. And above her desire to be included in the torrid details of their blossoming affair, she truly did want to see her friends happy.

"Look, I'll make it up to you." She knelt by her female friend and put what she hoped was a comforting arm around her shoulder. Tifa had to fight hard to suppress the desire to knock her over. "Free babysitting anytime you need. Okay? Tonight even! I'll go fetch the kids while you finish getting ready and I'll call Barret. He can stay with his oil rigs. You won't have to worry about him being late, as usual."

Before Tifa could inform her that the offer was kind but pointless, Cloud scoffed, causing both women to turn to him wearing expressions of curiosity.

He shifted his stance under their scrutiny, his one good arm automatically rising across his chest in a lame attempt at modesty. "It's just...funny. Because Barret cancelled watching Marlene and Denzel for us tonight. One of the rigs exploded. I was on the phone with him before, trying to get him to reconsider."

"So there you go! It all works out!" Yuffie said brightly, giving her a one armed hug. "And I promise to not set fire to anything!"

It was Tifa's turn to scoff, finding the situation pathetically hilarious. One step forward, two steps back. "Even if I did trust you to take care of the bar, we're not going out. Look at him." She gestured to Cloud with a nod of her head and Yuffie took a moment to scan him from head to toe, completely ignoring the narrowed eyes that begged her to stop.

"You...were in the middle of something?" she suggested, failing to find the explanation in his blatant injuries. Not that Tifa could blame her.

With an annoyed scowl, Cloud turned and headed for the exit. "I'm gonna go get the kids," was his concise explanation. Though Tifa could sense that he felt somehow violated. The thought made her smile a little. But only a little.

"Then we're going straight to the hospital!" she called to his retreating form.

"Okay." he yelled back, and in a few seconds the slam of the front door signaled his departure, surely while struggling to get his injured arm back through the sleeve of his sweater.

The second Yuffie assumed they were out of his broad earshot, she forced Tifa sideways to fix her with an incredulous and livid stare. "Are you seriously not going tonight? After everything I've done? After seeing him like that?"

Tifa smirked, for some reason proud that another female appreciated his rather breathtaking form. Proud, as much as when pulling off a particularly difficult piano piece, that she had managed to capture such a striking man's attention. Not that it was attention that she wanted, or needed from him most.

"He fell off his bike," she explained while pushing herself onto her feet, heading toward the cupboard for a broom with Yuffie hot on her heels. "He dislocated his shoulder, has about six gashes that need stitches and can barely hold himself up due to blood loss. Tonight is not the night. We're going to reschedule. Plus I need to clean up this mess you made if I want to sleep tonight."

"I can do the stitches. I can make a sling. We have potions to boost vitality. The only reason for going to a hospital would be for narcotics which we both know he doesn't need. AND I'll even clean! This is a once in a lifetime offer!"

Tifa paused then, her hand on the pantry's doorknob, considering. She forgot every once in a while that Yuffie, though young and peppy, was still a nimble fingered war veteran who had many talents beyond thievery and superfluous matchmaking. Though it seemed like fate was throwing them obstacle after obstacle to push this date back, something about their conversation down in the bar made her suddenly as eager as he was to 'get it over with'.

She was sick of waiting, sick of the building pressure, sick of seeing that adoption application of her desk, still incomplete, despite the pressing time limit.

"You do know that if you touch my materia again, I'll have to kill you," she had to warn.

Yuffie held up her hands and snorted, signaling an easy surrender to such terms. "I now know that if I touch your materia again, I'll somehow kill myself."

"And you'll remember that chocolate cake is not a meal? And that I measure the liquor levels every time I close? And that bed time is nine pm?"

"I even remember teeth brushing and nightlights. I'm that good."

Tifa bit her lip and narrowed her eyes, searching desperately for one hint of wicked intentions within the ninja's demeanor. In the end, all she was able to exhume were a few ounces of hope; hope that certain personal fiascos wouldn't ruin what she honestly believed to be destiny, and some absolute determination that this evening to work. No matter what.

"He won't like you doctoring him."

"For you, he'll deal," she insisted. And Tifa knew perfectly well that she was right.

When Cloud returned with the shaken though energized kids, pleased as they were with their 'brush with death', he accepted the proposed plan with only the slightest hesitation.

And just like that, against all odds, the dinner was back on.

As he spent an hour locked in the bathroom with Yuffie, Tifa took the opportunity to make herself look as presentable as possible...which meant, seeing as neither sweat shirts nor aprons were an option, the dreaded black garment bag was the only short-notice choice.

How convenient.

With a delicacy that suggested she was in the midst of dismantling a bomb as opposed to revealing a dress, Tifa slowly drew the zipper down, wincing as though blinded by the shine of the fabric.

"Red. Of course," she muttered to herself as the wisp of a garment was slipped free of its hanger. Had it been anyone other than her meant to wear the thing, Tifa would have found it's symbolism comically forward. For they lived in a time where dyes were still a luxury, and only women who lived off the attention they attracted dared to wear such bold shades. It was actually a common joke in their primarily efficient and muted society that the women in red dresses served only as evil distractions. As stepping stones to sin and, eventually, a man's downfall.

One could only imagine what Yuffie, who put much deliberation into everything she organized, was implying by choosing this dress for her. In fact, it made one wonder as to what Vincent had in mind when selecting his rather extravagant costume. But instead of lingering on such disturbing thoughts, Tifa took a deep breath and quickly pulled the thing over her head. Knowing very well that the longer she simply stared at it, the less and less likely it became that she would ever put it on.

A quick glance in the full-length mirror was all she allowed herself once she managed to zip it closed, if only to confirm that the absurd hemline left nothing exposed and the neck was high enough to hide the long, diagonal scar that all her friends knew she preferred to stay hidden.

Every detail remained conveniently on the very cusp of her limits of course. For as many colorful adjectives as she could use to describe the ninja, stupid was definitely not one of them.

Tifa had just finished tying the strap of the matching burgundy sandal, her ballet slippers having also perished in the fire, when the knock came at her door.

Instinctively she groaned, fully expecting an inspection that would include a plea to wear the tiara found in the bottom of the garment bag. An argument she really did not feel like participating in since, with the addition of the heels, she had officially hit her gaudiness maximum.

"Just a sec!" she called, seizing the moment to collect her things to ensure a quick escape. But upon standing, the shoes were found to be just tall and thin enough to guarantee that she couldn't walk properly let alone run. And yet Tifa knew that they too had been chosen with careful deliberation. There would be no choice now but to latch on to the nearest, sturdy figure in order to get from point A to point B.

And she had thought that indecent exposure would be her only concern tonight. Now she had to worry about falling on her face or breaking an ankle possibly while indecently exposing herself.

Great.

"Tifa? Are you ready?"

At the sound of his voice, Tifa froze; the small flutter of butterflies that had been lingering in her stomach suddenly exploding into a swarm that battered against her ribcage.

'No' she wanted to answer instinctively. 'No, I'll never be ready for this.'

But instead she ran her fingers one last time through her hair, taking a moment to caress her mother's pearl drop earring for courage, before making her way to the door.

The hallway was dark and silent as she stepped out of the still charcoal-scented sanctuary of her bedroom, eyes struggling to focus on the shadowed figure leaning on the opposite wall near the staircase. His glowing eyes like a beacon in the seemingly infinite darkness.

The mere sight of him somehow caused the tension to ease in her shoulder and converted the churning in her stomach into a pooling warmth. Especially due to the fact that it seem he too was no exception for Yuffie's meddling.

"She got you too, huh?" Tifa whispered while leaning her back against the threshold and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Yeah," Cloud sighed in a way that was half exasperated, half amused. "Test of limits, I guess."

Despite everything, a grin somehow found its way onto her lips. "She is good at that."

As uncomfortable as she had been with her ensemble, the shock of her clothing was far overshadowed by the fact that Cloud Strife was currently wearing a suit. A black one, plainly cut and loosely fit, catered to his preference for dark materials and ease of movement, made remarkable only by the fact that it was him wearing such a garment. Though it was nothing embarrassing formal or overtly stylish (seeing as he probably would have set it on fire, just to make a point), it was still a shock to see him willingly adorn anything other than his SOLDIER standard navy and battle gear. Instead the outfit was accentuated by the bright blue buttoned shirt, just a shade paler than his eyes. Also, ingeniously disguised in a matching black fabric so that she hardly noticed it at first, Cloud's injured arm rested in a camouflaged sling.

The teasing companion in Tifa wanted to make a joke about him planning to join the Turks. The same personae wanted to mock him for daring to move slightly lighter into the color scale. But the Tifa who was now unsteadily standing on impractical shoes and barely covered in a shimmering ruby slip, didn't really have the grounds to critique.

After all, that old Tifa's jokes would have just been covering an expectedly unrequited attraction. And tonight, judging by the way he was staring at her with equal shock and wonder, that was not an issue.

"You look g-" they both began in unison after a lengthy silence, which was spent primarily trying to remember how to keep ones jaw shut. Their eyes, originally glued to each other's unconventional attire, flew up to meet. A beat later, they were both smirking. Albeit softly. Still awkward despite everything. The butterflies is Tifa's stomach not only returned but doubled in size as she realized, to her extreme disappointment, how much she really didn't want to move.

Despite the mirrored relief at having finally arrived at this moment, there was something indisputably odd about standing there with him - a cumulative discomfort resulting from their unfinished conversation earlier, the formal clothes that neither felt relaxed wearing and, of course, the suffocating expectations. Not to mention the natural anxiety of leaving Yuffie in charge of all their earthly possessions for a few hours.

Earlier Cloud had referred to this night sort of like a dentist appointment. But if she were to be brutally honest, it now felt more like waiting in line, naked, before a shower stall that may very well be a gas chamber.

"We should...go." Cloud stated after a couple seconds of restless silence, gesturing to the stairs beside him.

"Yeah," Tifa agreed, and yet made no move to leave the security of her threshold.

As if reading her mind, his brows furrowed, apparently having come to her same horrifying conclusion. One minute into their date and they could already tell that this just wasn't going to work. She was about to throw in the towel, about to give him the 'we can still be friends' speech, but then he said possibly the only thing in the world that could make her give it a shot.

"I think we need a drink."

At this, Tifa wholeheartedly agreed.

That was how, with his help shakily descending the stairs in her heels, they ended up at the bar pouring healthy doses of that vintage Corel wine she had been saving for a special occasion. They clinked glasses and each took lengthy sips, happy at having a distraction for their lips.

It explained how, five minutes into their date, she was finally feeling warm and loose enough to poke fun at the ridiculousness of their clothing; as if they were costumes for Yuffie staging one of her cheesy romance stories involving a Turk and his lady of the night. And Cloud had laughed, even though he so rarely laughed, in complete agreement

It was nine minutes and another glass later that she decided they had been socially lubricated enough to venture out in public and perhaps even have a good time together, linked by mutual embarrassment.

And it was ten minutes in, while leaning on his arm for support in her shoes, that the pervasive swarm of butterflies residing in her stomach suddenly turned to wasps.

Out of all the potential endings this evening could have had, out of the kaleidoscope of her possible reactions he had played through in his head, the one that followed was definitely the least expected.

He was just glad she hadn't ruined anything he intended to wear ever again.


Later, when leaning back into the pillows after vainly attempting to spit the horrid taste from her mouth, Tifa forced herself to seek some humor in the situation.

It was the only way to deal with the near immobilizing embarrassment and loss of faith.

The ochu flu; Yuffie, in all her medical wisdom, had diagnosed her state. An immobilizing, stomach attacking virus that had been going around town for weeks. Tifa had known of its existence of course, what with several of her customers donning surgical masks in an attempt to spare themselves. But she had casually waved away the precautious, trusting that her rigorous hygiene standards and optimal health would no doubt inspire the sickness to avoid her and her family's systems. As it always had in years past.

"You're kinda like a martyr now," Yuffie had joked as she helped pack up some of Marlene and Denzel's belongings earlier. "Like, the proof that no one is immune! People will think twice about antiseptic soaps now, I tell ya. And we'll all profit in the end!"

Tifa somehow failed to resemble anything close to enthusiastic.

Considering her luck lately, she shouldn't have been as surprised as she was that she had been hit tonight of all nights. But still, one couldn't help but be awed and impressed by just how badly this date had gone: like a reversed version of the typical fairy tale.

Her elegant burgundy dress and heels had been replaced by a grey and blue plaid, flannel pajama, now damp with sweat. Her long, previously clean hair was pulled back into a tangled ponytail at the nape of her neck, sprinkled with crumbs of the biscuits she had attempted to force down earlier. And the dinner, Cloud's meticulously planned date event which was revealed to be a catered picnic on a nearby grass patch overlooking the city (such an unexpectedly inventive move from him that she would have surely enjoyed!), was left there to be garnered by some fortunate scavengers.

Instead she was spending her Friday night huddled in his cot, back to the cold cement wall, with a bucket strategically pinched between her knees to catch all impending bile attacks.

"Urrrggg," she moaned to herself, feeling the nausea buoying in her throat, teasing her with relief only to send her retching into the bucket a mere second later.

A fairy-tale princess indeed.

At her insistence, the children had moved to Yuffie's rented apartment for a few days to avoid catching her plague and Cloud had gone to help them settle in. The only comfort she could take without even her own bed for refuge, was that at least there was no one to witness her misery. At least she could sit here, unmoving, for the next day or two and, maybe, get some paperwork done. Or perhaps plan a tidy, efficient suicide. That is if she stopped throwing up long enough to find a proper length of rope...

"I'm back."A voice suddenly called from below followed by the clumsily loud slam of the door, telling of a one-armed, debilitated user.

Tifa groaned and sunk her head further into the bucket, listening with a heavy heart to his stomping footsteps climbing the stairs.

"I thought I told you to stay at Yuffie's." she yelled weakly toward the general direction of the corridor. "We'll be in trouble if we both get sick! Not to mention, you do not want to feel like this."

"I'll risk it." Cloud entered the room with a certain bounce to his step that was a tad too chipper considering the situation. He still wore the blue buttoned shirt Yuffie had forced him into, but had ditched the ruined suit blazer for one of his leather motorcycle jackets; creating a surprisingly gorgeous hybrid ensemble that made her feel a thousand times more disgusting in comparison. "Besides, I don't get sick."

At this, Tifa laughed meekly. "Neither do I."

"No. I mean, I can't get sick. Not by airborne viruses anyway." He began bustling about the room, opening drawers and crinkling paper bags all beyond her bucket edge's line of sight. "Mako cells strangle them before they can reproduce. One of the few good side effects. Here."

She lifted her head only long enough to acknowledge the bottle of sheer pink liquid and capsule pills offered before shaking it 'no'.

"I don't trust modern drugs," she snapped at him, unreasonably annoyed that he dared forget.

"I know. Neither do I," he in turn reminded her. Tifa cringed, noting that he had far more reason to avoid prescriptions than she did. Her mood was one of the primary reasons she had sent everyone away. Being sick made her short tempered and cranky, a side of herself she never wanted the kids especially to witness.

"I'm sorry..." she mumbled while running a hand through her sweat soaked bangs, unexpectedly on the brink of tears. How she hated being this pathetic. How she hated him seeing her so pathetic. "I'm just...I'm so..."

"I know. I mean, I get it. It's okay. Here." He offered his wares again, turning the bottle so that the label of Shin-Wei's health food store on the outskirts of Edge showed. "Its salad water and an vitamin supplement. You need to keep your strength up if you want a chance at fighting this thing off naturally."

Without waiting for a reply he one-handedly unscrewed the cap of the bottle and dropped the pill into her hand, taking a moment to coil her fingers around both items just in case she hadn't the energy to do so herself. And also to hint that she had little choice but to consume them.

True to her foul mood, her original impulse was to chastise him for treating her like an invalid child. But then she noted the bottle's label again, then the clock on his nightstand and then the large bag of various natural remedies that had been placed on his desk. It was 11pm and she knew that the naturalist store owner Shin-Wei closed early and didn't have a phone. Which meant...

"Cloud?" she asked quietly, fixing him with her patented motherly stare of disapproval. "Did you just ROB the health food store?"

The corner of his lip turned up ever so slightly, an expression that never failed to make her heart pound loudly in her ears.

"It's not robbing if you leave gil," he insisted while coaxing her laden hand upward toward her lips. With only the faintest hesitation, Tifa popped the vitamin into her mouth and drank, deeming his little crime to be worth getting the kids back in their beds sooner rather than later. The salad water was disgusting, as expected. And yet it didn't make her instantly throw up as everything else she had attempted consume. A definite good sign.

After finishing the bottle, Tifa was pleased to announce that she did indeed feel somewhat better. Though it was probably more mental than physical. So she leaned back into the pillows with a groan of relief. Confident than she had become slightly less mean and gross, her eyes finally darted to Cloud who now sitting on the edge of the cot. He had been watching her the entire time, that same almost imperceptible grin gracing his features.

"Just so you know, I don't condone burglary," she carefully informed him, even though her matching smirk did little to support the words. "But still...thank you."

"You would have done the same for me."

And he was perfectly right.

They sat in silence for a few moments more, not in awkwardness, but just basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company. Happy at being together, alone for once, and silently confirming that there was nowhere else they rather be.

Without needing permission, Cloud climbed onto the cot and placed himself beside her on the pillows. And she in turn, without for once wondering if touching him was okay, knew to lean her head on his good shoulder, closing her eyes, not caring that she surely smelled like a rotting malboro. At that moment, she really didn't care.

"You know what?" Cloud asked quietly as the fingers of his non-slung hand slowly crawled forward to entwine with hers. "This...is the best date I've ever had."

Tifa laughed then. Knowing that he was making a joke referring to the fact that this was the only real date he had ever had and therefore also the worst. But it was good to hear anyway.

"The picnic was a good idea," she decided to add as a side note, mourning their anticipated evening. "It would have been...nice. Sitting there under the stars, sharing a meal with you. Just the two of us."

"It is nice," he whispered, smirking against her hair. "It's what we're doing now."

Tifa's eyes blinked open.

Though flannel replaced silk, though salad water took the form of what was meant to be an actual salad, though she had lost her ability to stand and he the ability to use both arms, though almost everything that could have possibly gone wrong did go wrong, still they had ended up here, in his room, content and not-unpleasantly delirious.

They had intended to take an important step forward tonight. And now, against all odds, she found they had taken several. He having easily and naturally fallen into the role of the devoted partner and caretaker.

An important step indeed...but still, regrettably, not one of the ones she most wanted to discover tonight...

In the same instant, she raised her head while he shifted positions, both silently agreeing that it was time to test a new boundary, that tonight had succeeded in convincing both of them that there was no way to go but forward. Despite how much more painful it would make the fall.

He released her hand to shimmy her sick bucket from her knees and place it on the floor, an action that was so very disgusting and yet exciting as it most plainly confirmed his intentions. The hand returned to place itself gently on the side of her neck, and she was somewhat comforted by the fact that it was quivering as badly as hers were.

Cloud Strife was nervous. She could tell by his eyes, when they finally met hers, which spoke volumes of his various concerns. And to her relief, the fact that she hadn't yet brushed her teeth wasn't among them. Instead, they consisted of strangely typical male worries, things she had never thought such a notoriously tough person would fret about. Like the SOLDIER he was, he took the time to analyze the situation, debating whether it was better to move in on the right or to the left, how long it should last, what to do with his hand, what to say afterward.

He took so long deliberating that Tifa, true to her still sick and frustrated mood, quickly lost her patience.

"I should probably get some sleep," she announced in a tight, slightly incensed tone while slumping further into the pillows away from him. To her extreme annoyance, Cloud's only reaction was an obvious release of tension from his entire body. She tried not to let it get to her, especially because she most probably didn't want her first case of projectile vomiting to coincide with her memories of her and Cloud's first kiss. It was for the best. Really.

"Besides," she added, rolling away onto her back with a sigh so that she could stare at the ceiling and not the irritating relief in his eyes. "You said you're not infected by airborne viruses. To be safe you should probably not-"

She never got a chance to finish the question. Having found a preferred approach in her new position, Cloud seized the opportunity like the disciplined veteran that he was, not striking until the moment was right, until he was sure that it would achieve the best possible result.

And yet, still, he went in slowly, leaning down on her from above, eyes initially open and focused on the target of her lips, brushing against them once, tilting the angle of his head a little then repeating. Trial and error and still tortuously perfect in every way.

Finally, after finding an advance that suited him, he dared to put a little pressure and at the same time the hand that had been on her neck went to seek a new haven, travelling across her collar bone, and over to cup her shoulder. Other than that, he didn't move for a long while, his lips seemingly frozen in the shock of where they had ended up and what they were feeling as a result; a confusing mix of terror and exhilaration. And Tifa, afraid of alarming the evident deliberation he was putting into this event, didn't dare do anything but receive. In truth, she hadn't the mental capacity to do much else.

They remained still for long seconds that stretched into an eternity. Neither drawing breath for fear of interrupting this perfect tableau of a moment; one that was far from heated or the clichéd "knee-weakening". Contrary to those more common responses, Tifa instead felt increasingly stronger, more stable with every passing millisecond. The insistent pressure of his lips like a gentle stamp on the application of their potential relationship; an elaborately decorated, freshly-inked seal of approval that was slowly drying into permanence.

This was the feeling she had been daydreaming about since she was old enough to notice boys. Not just because it was Cloud, for he had admittedly not always been a star player in her fantasies. And not because kisses had been so rare in her life, for she had her pathetic though still notable share of experience in that realm. It was the dream of being kissed by anyone, even so simply and in less than ideal circumstances, and feeling this rush of ultimate contentment. As if you suddenly knew with absolute certainty that you would be strong and beautiful and loved for the rest of your life, the logic of such a belief was to be damned.

And when he eventually pulled away, the sensation remained. Lingering like an energy pulse beneath the entire surface of her skin, so forceful that she wondered for while if it was a sincere emotional reaction or merely a physical side effect of coming into such intimate contact with his mako infused cells.

Either way...it was invigorating. Like elixir transfused directly into her veins.

Intense.

"Tifa?" came his whispering voice a few seconds later, sounding inexplicably far away even though she felt the breath of his words on her cheek. "Teef? You okay?"

Her eyelids eventually fluttered open, and the breath she didn't realize she had been holding released. The first thing she saw were his brilliant eyes, more green than blue in the dim light and crinkled at the corners as a relieved smile spread across his face. An expression she could not help but mirror giddily.

"Yeah," she murmured in response to the question. "I'm..." Tifa's brows furrowed, struggling to find a proper adjective (Comfortable? Floating? Happy? Safe? Home?) but none, not even all of them, could properly define it. And so she settled with "good.", confident that he would somehow deduce what she truly meant.

After a moment's consideration he nodded, his hand having finally found purchase in hers once more.

"...Good."

Without another word, both celebrated fighters shimmied themselves horizontally onto a cot much too small for two people and quickly fell into the best sleep either of them had ever had.

The next morning, when the kids and Yuffie returned to check on them, an unexpectedly cheery and healthy Tifa ushered them in the door. While upstairs the faint sound of someone being violently ill echoed throughout the corridor.

Once the ninja (the only one knowledgeable on how germs spread in mako victims) got over her giggle fit, Cloud was quick to assure everyone, after choking down a bottle of salad water, that it had most definitely been worth it.


In the end, it had been easy.

Easier than she had ever thought possible.

Like she, Cloud overcame the flu quickly. And by mid afternoon it was a regular Saturday at 7th Heaven.

She had slid the application over as soon as he joined them at the lunch table, needing to get it over with despite the odd timing. Yuffie and the kids kindly pretended not to notice, but the tension in the room was palpable. That is, before he acted.

There were no words, no awkward hesitation. This was what he wanted all along. It was what they all needed.

He quickly scrawled his name the required six times on various pages in the stack of paper, folded them up and immediately headed for the door.

Less than twenty-four hours after their first and, so far only, kiss, and Tifa and Cloud became official partners, registered applicants for joint custody at the WRO.

It was more of a giant leap than a little step. But, for whatever reason, and to her extreme relief, that fact no longer scared Tifa.

She had finally realized and accepted what their friends and family and coworkers and apparently the entire city of Edge had long foreseen;

That it had only been a matter of time.


Author's Note: Wow. This was my best and most fruitful batch of reviews yet! I checked my email for two seconds while borrowing the computer at my New York hotel lobby, and saw it was flooded with alerts :D. I decided then and there that a swift update was definitely warranted, and it was my number one priority the second I got home.

This was, technically, the second half of the previous chapter that I had to cut due to ridiculous length, with some added fluff to amuse. Also, I forgot last chapter to give praise to reader Mistress9ine, who made this beautiful fanart of Tifa in her (R.I.P.) yellow silk dress.

Please check it out at http:/ /bechedor79.d eviantart.c om/art/Strange-Heroes-155555789 (you have to delete the spaces in the address due to fanfiction's auto no-linking).

Looking forward to writing the next few chapters. Thank you all so much for your continued support!

- May