Author's Note:
To the FFVII fans: I can't say how thrilled I am for such great feedback on this story. It just warms my heart, it does. Natalie and I squee daily to read and see the comments.
I'd also like to remind folks that this story is co-oped, meaning Natalie and I both are writing it, she writing as Vincent and me writing as Tifa. I have no control over her Vincent, just as she has none over my Tifa. I don't know how Vincent is going to react until I read the posts. And I don't know how Tifa will react until I post it. So, that is the glory of role play, to let characters bounce off one another. We both share everyone else, but Vincent and Tifa are the main characters.
However, I must warn that from here forward, things get a bit...strange. We really dive into the meat and plot of the role play, so please don't be surprised to see some oddness from our favorite characters. Please trust us when we say things are done for plot purposes, but sometimes others are done out of complete randomness. Most of this is not planned or outlined.
There is still quite a long ways to go, so never fear as there will be little lack of updates. Unless Nat's hubby gets annoyed by our all night role play sessions, that is. But when writing characters this great, sometimes it's just hard to stop.
All right. I shall stop dithering now and return to my editing. We both, from the bottom of our hearts and with a great love for this particular paring, express our deepest thanks and gratitude for those reading and will endeavor to continue with alacrity. Carry on.
Sibilant Macabre
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.
Chapter Ten:
Vincent:
His first instinct was to say no, but he bit his tongue and thought it over. Though care had to be taken, he was fully capable of replacing it himself. That was not the issue, however. She had just kissed him, and now her willingness to help him in this seemed to further emphasize her acceptance of him, just as he was. In whatever way... Vincent dared not think too deeply into her actions, even with the hot tingle remaining upon his lips from their contact with hers.
Yet for tonight, he didn't have to think about it, or read into it, though he just knew things would feel weird tomorrow, and that the kiss would probably not be repeated. He'd learned in his life not to expect much. For tonight, though, he would take the affection Tifa gave as a balm to his existence, and not object to her acceptance of him and all that he'd shown her. He hoped at least now, she would be able to imagine the depth of the trust he put in her by all he had done and said, and would do now.
Still breathing deeply, now from nervousness of her touch against his scarred flesh, he nodded mutely to her.
Tifa:
Her shy smile returned at his silent affirmation. Tifa reached to the window sill and picked up the silicon sleeve, rubbing it between her fingers thoughtfully. She flushed a bit and said, "This might be sort of stupid, but I'll do the best I can, Vincent. I don't want to hurt you."
But she gingerly clasped the material in her fingertips and held the opening wide apart, so he could slip into it easily. She resolutely pushed the former actions to the back of her mind, to be taken out and evaluated at a later date, say, when she was alone, or better yet, never. Normally, the awkwardness would be palpable but Tifa refused to let it be so. Determined to brazen it out, she also felt a bit humbled by the exchange.
True, she'd been more forward than she'd been in her life by instigating that kiss, but Vincent had returned it. He'd returned it, by the Planet! That thought alone gave her a thrill she couldn't quite place, but relished nonetheless. Vincent, the stoic, unapproachable, mysterious figure of their little cadre, feared however unnecessarily by all of them, had shared with her his dark secrets and kissed her back, on top of it all! As the thoughts flitted across her mind, Tifa felt her cheeks growing warmer by the second.
Vincent:
Though equally stupefied, Vincent wore the same calm expression he usually did, albeit slightly pinkened. As she held the glove open, he slipped his hand into it, working his fingers into it with a small grimace. That done, he let her slide it the rest of the way up his arm, then picked up his gauntlet pieces, minus the one she'd tossed on the bed, and placed them back into their familiar positions, feeling clothed again. He picked his shirt up, but let it lay over his left arm rather than bother putting it on again.
For a long moment he could only look out the window. How would she feel about this tomorrow? The next night? Would she act differently around him now... or pretend it was all a fanciful dream combined with the nightmare of his revelations? He brushed the thoughts away with another look at her. Not for the first time, he realized she was beautiful, from the inside out. Cloud had let something precious go, and the ex-Turk hoped the man now realized and lamented it as he should. The thought, surprisingly, gave him little guilt.
"Thank you Tifa, for listening. And..." he trailed off with a deeper blush and settled on, "Everything else."
Tifa:
Tifa helped with the sleeve, then handed him the remaining piece of brass, having stepped around him to retrieve it. After handing it over, she watched him gaze outside for a minute, then gave him another smile as he turned back to her.
"You're welcome, anytime." She resisted the urge to touch him again, no matter how playfully. "You have family, Vincent, whether you realize it or not. Don't be afraid of us." Before she yielded to another suicidal impulse to taste him again, she said, "But let's go to bed. It's been a long night."
After they both maneuvered to the door, she couldn't help but rise on her tiptoes and place a lingering kiss to his cheek and breathe, "Good night, Vincent." Stepping away, she said, "Sleep well."
Vincent:
He replaced the final piece, and felt awkward at her words. To her admission that both needed sleep, he nodded and walked with her to the door. The kiss she pressed to his cheek caused his eyes to flutter closed as he took a deep breath. Things would be different now, however subtly, no matter what either said or did to pretend it was the same. He opened his eyes when she stepped back and returned in almost a whisper, voice deep as ever, though now a little roughened.
"You as well. Goodnight." He turned quickly and went to his room before anything else could be said or done. The remaining hours of the night would hold a world of thought, guilt, and introspections, he knew, but once inside the safety of his bedroom, he looked down at his left hand and for the first time, felt warmth at the newest memory that came with it.
Tifa:
Tifa woke surprisingly rested and comfortable. The sun graced her bedroom in hazy golden light, burning off the early dawn's foggy mist. She yawned and turned over, still unwilling to give up the warm comfort of bed. But the door opening made her grin against the pillows. Sure enough, three heartbeats later, Marlene's giggle reached her ears, followed by the little girl's pounce into bed.
"Tifa!" she cried, shaking her. "C'mon, wake up! It's time to get up!" Marlene shrieked laughter as a pillow flew from the covered lump and swatted her, falling back onto the mattress. She retaliated by tackling it, squirming around until both were hopelessly tangled in the sheets.
Tifa grinned and tickled small ribs. "Time to get up, hm? Well, why are you still in bed?"
Marlene cackled merrily and twisted around, trying to get away. They played for a few minutes and finally Tifa regained enough breath to crawl from bed.
"All right, you," she said, pulling off the covers. "Let's go get breakfast started."
Hand in hand, they skipped downstairs, Tifa quickly getting things going. Today was Saturday and every Saturday morning, kids from the local orphanage were treated to breakfast at Seventh Heaven. Miss Nadine Houseman, the den mother, was one of Tifa's long acquaintances. Besides, Tifa never minded in any way helping the children. Usually after breakfast, the kids were treated to a field trip of some kind, visiting one of Midgar's museums, going to a movie, or simply an outing in the park. Denzel and Marlene usually accompanied on these little jaunts.
An hour later, the bar was piled with breakfast food of all sorts, steaming heaps of toast, bacon, eggs, pancakes and waffles to name a few. Tifa did nothing by halves. Long years of practice in the kitchen served her well. Joined by Denzel, the three made quick work and were ready by the time the crew arrived. Twenty-six kids in all, ranging in age from infant to teenager filed into the barroom, chattering excitedly. Nadine, a slender young woman in her thirties, smiled and greeted Tifa warmly.
Cid, Barret and Nanaki eventually wandered in, enticed by the wondrous scents wafting from the kitchen. Good nature all 'round, everyone fell to breakfast. In the midst of all the ruckus, Tifa glanced upstairs, but perhaps it was better to let Vincent rest. Gaia knew the previous evening's stress provided a need for it.
But Cid pinched her hip, giving her a toothy grin around his coffee. "Yer inna good mood this mornin', Sparky," he teased, to which she smiled crookedly and shrugged.
"Slept good."
One of Cid's eyebrows arched. "Didja now. Well, 'at's real good."
She chuckled and swatted him away. "Go eat, Cid."
He smirked at her. "Yes'm." Nadine approached as he took himself off and chuckled quietly.
"Quite a crew, your companions," she said to Tifa, who nodded and refilled another plate.
"Yes, they grow on you," she said with mock severity. Both women laughed.
Afterwards, when hands and faces were washed and dishes gathered into tubs on the table, Nadine announced that they'd be visiting the old Shin-Ra museum and watching a film about some of their planet's history. Marlene whined and begged for Barret to accompany them, which Nadine endorsed with a radiant smile. He flushed, scratched the back of his head and capitulated. Tifa just grinned and helped rustle the mob out, waving bye to Denzel and Marlene as they trooped with the others.
Cid had taken himself off to see to a few parts for the Highwind, berthed at the shuttleport. Nanaki and Tifa returned to the kitchen, where the cat sat on his haunches and confessed, "Had I the means, I'd lend a hand, Tifa." He lowered his head and seemed a little embarrassed.
She laughed and gave him a fond ear-ruffle. "Oh, Red, it's all right. I don't mind the work."
He leaned into her hand, good eye closed. "I can see," he said with a chuckle. "Very well, I shall leave you to it then and enjoy the sunshine out back." So saying, he quietly padded into the backyard, leaving Tifa alone in the kitchen and humming to herself as she cleaned dishes.
Vincent:
He'd dozed off shortly after dawn, and woke feeling as if he'd slept longer than he actually had. And no dreams. He was pleasantly surprised. He scented bacon and other breakfast foods downstairs, and recalled that it was Saturday. With Saturday morning came the kids from the orphanage and their weekly breakfast and outing. He knew it couldn't be very early, and heard no commotion downstairs, meaning breakfast was over. He sighed and rolled out of bed, the events of the previous night seeming to him now like an all-too-realistic dream, fuzzed over by bits of sleep. He gathered his clothing for the day and headed to the bathroom to shower.
As the warm water ran down his body and cleared his head a bit, he thought more on the reasons behind Tifa's actions, and his own. The only plausible idea he could come up with - that he was willing to believe - was that it had been a highly emotional moment for both of them, each lonely and for a time needing to feel close to someone.
In her heart, he knew she still loved Cloud. In his heart he still cared for Lucrecia, though it was jaded by pain and betrayal and time. Tifa's feelings for Cloud were close to the same, but he knew she could never feel the sort of pain, loss and guilt that he felt. He never wanted her to feel that. In any case, he knew that last night would change something between them, but nothing major. She would still mother him as she did everyone, and he would still support her as a friend and confidant.
Once finished with his shower, and again smelling like a flower, he quickly dried off, got dressed, combed his fingers through his hair a few times and went downstairs. He walked into the kitchen to find her there, alone, cleaning up. Suddenly things felt a bit awkward, but he did well not to show it. "Good morning," he said as he opened the refrigerator and retrieved the milk, pouring himself a tall glass. He didn't often drink the stuff, but this morning he found he had a mild craving for it. He snitched a couple of peanut butter cookies from one of the three jars allocated for the kid's snacks and junk food to go with it and leaned against the counter, glass in right hand and the cookies held precariously in the left.
Tifa:
Tifa heard Vincent's quiet step over her humming and flashed him a brilliant smile as he entered the kitchen. "Good morning," she chirped in reply, cocking a brow at his choice of breakfast.
"No coffee?" she queried, up to her elbows in sudsy water. She diverted from her mission and expertly retrieved his coffee cup from the cupboard, setting it at his elbow. She just barely refrained from giving him a smack on the cheek but settled for a playful nudge with her elbow.
"I trust you slept well? You even slept through the ruckus, lucky." She giggled. Strange, yesterday had been cold shoulders and icy chill. Now, it was warm and friendly yet again. How'd that happen? But however it did, she was thankful.
Vincent:
He chuckled around a mouthful of peanut buttery goodness. He swallowed, chasing it with some milk and leaving the tiniest milk mustache before wiping it on the back of his hand.
"Maybe I'll have some after this. I did sleep well, actually." He left off, Considering I didn't go to sleep until after sunrise. He was glad for the change from yesterday as well. Though things felt a bit strange after last night, the atmosphere between them had noticeably relaxed... even more than before their little tiff.
"How's Nadine and the kids at the orphanage? Did they drag everyone with them this time?"
Tifa:
Tifa nodded, rinsing the last of the dishes. "Oh, they're fine. Or so I gathered from the noise level. Nadine and Marlene charmed Barret into going with them this morning and Cid's gone to see about some parts for the ship. Red's napping in the backyard, so all's quiet on the home front. For a change."
She rinsed the sink and dried her hands, draping the towel over the counter. With a gentle chuckle, she absently brushed a few crumbs from his shirt collar, maternal habit at its best. "Those turned out well, I'm glad to say. Even with Marlene's dubious help."
Vincent:
A small smile tugged one corner of his lips, "So, should I give her a compliment on them, or might that encourage her too much?" Marlene wanted to be just like Tifa, right down to being a perfect home-maker. As the girl had informed him, she'd also wanted to learn how to "totally kick butt!" like Tifa as well, but she had understandably been refused those lessons for the time being.
Cooking and baking however, she often begged her way into, sometimes turning into a total disaster, and sometimes surprisingly edible. Vincent was thankful that this time, the latter was the case. He didn't mind Tifa brushing the crumbs away, but it did return brief flashes of last night to his mind, of her standing much closer, arms around his neck... He quickly cut that line of thought, keeping his thoughts guarded and in the now.
Tifa:
A chuckle and a shrugged shoulder. "Either or, I think." A fleeting look crossed her face. "She's growing up so fast…so is Denzel. Sometimes it scares me." She fell silent for a bit, then said, "Eventually Marlene will go to live with Barret, when he's done with work. He's getting 'respectable'," she grinned. "And Denzel wants to go to the Academy to be a soldier, but I pray he'll grow out of that notion," she said with a grimace.
Leaning arms on the counter, she stood beside Vincent, staring out the windows. Unthinking, as if it were a natural thing, she leaned her temple to his shoulder, sighing softly. "Eventually, they'll leave us, Vincent, and the house will be so empty."
She blinked and then laughed. "Gaia, listen to me, prattling like an old woman." She lifted her head and eyed him a bit. "How do you feel?" she asked seriously.
Vincent:
He looked down at her, eyes studying the shades of brown and black that varied from one strand of her hair to the other, his voice soft as he answered her. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I try not to think much of the future. It's easier to simply live day by day, and take what comes, as it comes."
He turned to look out of the window as she did with a melancholy smile, "As strange as it seems to me, comparing where I've been and where I thought I would go, I... enjoy being here. And I know that when my life changes again, when you or the children move onto other things, though I'll be happy for you, I will also be saddened." Before last night, he'd have had a harder time telling her that, but now things came easier, even the sad things.
Tifa:
Tifa returned her head to its former place, oddly comfortable. "I'm not going anywhere, Vincent. This is my home. I've busted my tail to make it so and don't plan on abandoning it anytime soon." As automatic as breathing, she slipped her arm beneath his, resting fingers against the coolness of his shirtsleeve.
"I'm glad you enjoy being here. It's nice to have…that comfort. When so much else has gone wrong in life," she added, a touch of bitterness in her voice. She looked down at the counter, suddenly self-conscious, but she had to say something about it. "I'm…glad of what you showed me last night, Vincent. I know that wasn't easy for you to do, but I'm glad you did." Her flush intensified. "…and for…after, too."
Vincent:
He felt his cheeks warm a little, but did not resist the instinct to pull his arm back enough for his fingertips to brush against hers, lacing them at the last joint while his thumb brushed the edge of her palm. Not quite holding her hand, but somehow more intimate. Slowly, his fingers did end up curling downward until her palm was pressed lightly to his. He wasn't sure what to say.
How do you thank someone for not throwing you out or being more afraid of you? How do you show appreciation for total acceptance and touch that was - for that moment at least - more than platonic and genuinely caring? By the way she spoke now, and the way he found himself responding, Vincent knew it had changed them more deeply than he'd thought. His mind had denied it, and would still deny it, but his heart knew better. All he was able to say was a quiet, "Me too," as the pad of his thumb rubbed gently against hers.
Tifa:
Tifa could have curled into a ball in his arms and remained forever in that moment, but the banging open of the front door and vile swearing as something crashed to the floor announced Captain Highwind's return. Tifa couldn't help but laugh and shake her head at Cid's vulgarity. With unfeigned reluctance, she detached herself from Vincent and emerged into the barroom to see Cid struggling with several large boxes while trying to kick inside those he'd already dropped.
"Cid," she implored, hurrying over, "if you'll take a breath, I'll help you! Grief!"
Cigarette still firmly clenched between his teeth, Cid flashed a grin at her and replied, "Thanks, Tif. Sure could use it. Baby's parts ain't light, 'at's for sure."
Vincent:
He sighed upon hearing the pilot, but not without an amused smirk. He walked into the barroom a moment after Tifa, in time to see her picking up one of the boxes while berating Cid. Wordlessly he stepped around the clutter to relieve the man of one of the larger boxes, holding it under one arm and bending to pick up another. Cid muttered thanks and launched into prattle about the improvements that could be made to the ship with these parts, down to the technical jargon of what each thing did.
The three plunked the boxes in the empty space behind the bar on the end nearest to the main door. In the midst of his prattle, Cid stopped as he noticed not only Tifa's smiling, more relaxed disposition, but Vincent's, even a smile from the man, however less cheery than Tifa's.
Cid blinked, "Well damn, Sunshine. You're livin' up to your nickname this morning. Someone spike your corn-flakes or something?" The blond gave a brief, knowing grin to Tifa.
Vincent shook his head, "Just got a decent bit of sleep, Highwind. Notably the first since you and Barrett began snoring contests to rattle the walls."
Cid just scoffed, "Yeah, I'm sure you slept good." He felt like being a bit more crude than usual, since everyone was in such a nice mood, "Well, you're well-rested. Tif, you seem even perkier than usual too. I'll be a gentleman this time and not ask why you both just so happen to be feeling your vitamins this morning." He grinned as the pale ex-Turk pinkened a bit and scowled at him.
Tifa:
Brown eyes rolled in extreme consternation. Cid was nothing if not a perverted tease. And sometimes the only way to shut him up was to be vulgar in return. Which tickled Tifa to no end. She assumed a nonchalant air and shrugged, idly fiddling with one of the box tops.
"You? A gentleman?" She giggled. "That's funny, Cid. Truth is," she said with a sly covert wink at Vincent, "after closing down last night, we had a rather swanky interlude involving the washing machine, right by you. Didn't you hear it?" She smirked.
"The spin cycle really makes things interesting in the middle of all that slippery fun." Sometimes, it was nice to just give the brash male a dose of his own smarmy medicine. Hopefully it'd shut him up. Or just make him more obnoxious. A fifty-fifty chance.
Vincent:
One brow cocked clear to the rim of his aviator's goggles - which were far outdated but a "classic" look, he'd thought - while his mouth opened in surprise, the half-ash cigarette dangling precariously on his bottom lip. Vincent, though he picked up on her hint, was caught between a slight blush at the lewd idea and grinning at the pilot's look.
The blond wasn't stupefied for long, though. He knew the game too, and played along. "Really? Dammit, I thought this shirt smelled funny..." He played with the collar, sniffed it and made a disgusted face.
Without missing a beat and surprising himself that it actually came out, Vincent drolled, "It should. I used it to clean up afterwards."
Cid's mouth hung open, and this time he had to snag the cigarette between two fingers to keep it from falling. "Well fuck me-"
"I'd rather not," the ex-Turk cut in briefly, causing Cid's gaping mouth to grin,
"Sunshine, I must be hearing things, because I'd have swore you just took part in a dirty joke..."
Vincent just offered a cool smile, walked past Cid with a light clap on the shoulder and said in his usual monotone, "Maybe I'm not joking."
And with that, he ambled into the kitchen for that coffee, feeling oddly good about being able to completely shut down Cid's entire thought process, even for moment.
Tifa:
Tifa blinked at Vincent's retaliation, but it tickled her mirth and she barely contained her giggles. Vincent? Making dirty jokes? Wonders would never cease. She relished the complete look of bafflement on Cid's face and finally broke into a fit of laughter as Vincent strolled into the kitchen.
Collapsing in a chair, she hugged her sides and chortled uncontrollably. "Cid!" she managed to gasp. "Good Planet!" Brushing away tears, she looked up at the pilot. "Of course we were joking!"
But her brain hiccupped to a slamming halt as the image slashed across her mind and her giggles broke off abruptly, hot color flaming her cheeks as the feelings of last night's actual events resurfaced. Dear Gaia. Tifa nervously cleared her throat and jumped up from her chair, giving Cid a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and with a mutter of chores to be done, scuttled into the kitchen for a glass of really cold water.
Vincent:
Vincent sat at the kitchen table, coffee mug in hand as he glanced over the top half of the front page of the local newspaper. He didn't look up as she came in, getting herself a glass of ice water. He smirked for a moment longer on the joke and Cid's expression, then his mind traveled to moments before that, to their brief acknowledgment of the night before.
Then, with the natural course that thoughts tend to take, memories of the kiss and her words returned. Because I wanted to. He ignored further deliberation in favor of conversation. "Has Cid recovered yet? It's unusual for him to be quiet for so long." A small smirk remained in place.
Tifa:
Tifa hastily gulped down the glass of chill water, the icy bite welcome against her throat. Refilling it again, she moved to lean against the counter and grinned. "I think he's relearning how to breathe, yes," she answered. She flashed a brilliant smile. "That line was great, by the way." She flushed a bit. "I didn't expect you to go along with it, but sometimes being nasty is the only way to get Cid to shut up." A snerked giggle.
"I think your sense of humor is surfacing, Vincent," she teased. "Might want to watch that, wouldn't want the world to know you have one." Although she was more than tickled to see it. She twirled the glass in her hands, just for the need to have something to do. She probably shouldn't have made that comment to Cid, because now she was all…twitchy. Oh, damn the man's innuendo for wrecking her thought patterns!
Suppressing a muted groan, Tifa lifted her eyes just in time to see Vincent lift the coffee cup and take a soft swallow and her brain almost shut down. In a rush of heat, she recalled with vivid clarity the surprising lushness of those lips, settling against the warm porcelain of the mug. Gah!
Hurriedly putting her water glass in the sink, she again muttered something unintelligible and fled the kitchen, really wanting to find something constructive to do, besides instigate a repeat of the previous evening's events. She found herself in the laundry room, of all places of woe, and firmly entrenched her mind with laundry, of which, thanks to the number of people in the house, there was never a lack.
Vincent:
"Wouldn't want to ruin my image," he agreed, flipping the paper over. When she retreated so quickly, he wondered if something were wrong with her. She'd walked so briskly it bordered on running. The thought struck him after a moment that it might have something to do with the night before. It was odd, how they could go from being completely at ease with one another to jittery, if that were even the case of what bothered her.
He remained in the kitchen a while, finished his coffee and placed the mug in the sink, then found her in the laundry room. Nervousness tugged at his normally cool demeanor. True to his nature, he began to have more doubts about the kiss. Still, he avoided talking about it directly.
"Do you need any help?" he inquired. He glanced at the washing machine, and knew instantly that it was a mistake by the warmth of his face. He had almost nothing to do, having finished all the repairs on the house, painted nearly everything, and having sorted all records and balanced the financial log three times over.
Tifa:
After the third time of nearly dropping the bleach, Tifa gave up on the linens. Yanking towels from the washer, she started in on dark clothes instead; praise Planet all they needed were fabric softener and soap. Vincent's quiet question made her yelp in surprise; she hadn't heard him in the hall.
"Uh, I think I finally got it," she managed nervously and hurriedly closed the lid. And there went the fabric softener bottle, crashing to the floor with a wet splat. Naturally she'd forgotten to put the cap back on the bottle. Pale blue liquid splashed everywhere, coating her bare toes and the tops of Vincent's boots.
Muttering invective she usually reserved for Cloud's idiocy, Tifa swiftly bent and retrieved the now-empty bottle, coating her fingers in the slippery stuff in the process. I'm not usually this stupid! she wailed inwardly. Tifa! Get it together! It was just a kiss, for Gaia's sake! She closed her eyes, head bent and groaned silently. And we want another one, if you ever get the spine to ask for it, her traitorous mind and body answered.
Gnawing on her lip, she whimpered in distress and finally managed to stand up and paste on a completely fake bright smile. "Isn't Monday two days away?" she tried to laugh it off lamely. "Cause I'm usually not this klutzy on Saturday…"
Vincent:
Almost thankful for something to do besides stand there, Vincent grabbed a towel from the pile of dirty laundry and began mopping the mess up, keeping the thick liquid from making its way under the washer and dryer. Her behavior and complete lack of coordination confirmed that she was quite and very frazzled about something. Still in the process of cleaning up the mess - though it would have to be mopped to keep from being sticky - Vincent looked up at her with gentle concern, ignoring her comment. "Tifa, what's wrong?"
Tifa:
Tifa backed up against the washer as Vincent knelt to clean up the mess and her breath hitched quite involuntarily at the vision of the glorious black hair that spilled over his shoulders and streamed down his back. I am not this wanton, she reminded herself firmly and frowned to hear a silent snicker somewhere in the back of her brain. Shut up, she told it angrily. Just shut up.
But she was unable to keep from reaching one hand towards those thick locks, wanting to bury fingers in the softness. As he looked up at her, she balled her fist and quickly returned it to her side, gnawing her lip. Chest heaving with labored breaths, she managed to blurt, "Nothing, Vincent…"
Vincent:
He missed seeing her reaching hand, but did not miss the jerking motion of her snatching it back. He mistook it simply for her thinking of helping more with the mess, and then changing her mind once she saw he'd gotten most of it up. He raised one brow, then the other at her, clearly disbelieving her.
"Then why are you suddenly so..." He trailed off, trying to think of a word that was mild and yet would get the point across. "... jittery? You seemed fine a little while ago." He reached out and took the empty plastic bottle from her, then used a dry corner of the towel to wipe the tips of her fingers as an afterthought. He sighed, and surprisingly his cheeks didn't color as he asked, "Does it have something to do with last night? Or is it something else?"
Tifa:
Numb fingers let him take the bottle. She could only stare down at him, trying to regain some sense of decorum. This is not dignified, Tifa Lockheart, she berated herself sternly. But the primal part of her brain just did not care at present and she suppressed a squeak as he toweled her fingers.
"Oh," she laughed nervously, "I'm all right. Just…just…" Just what? Gods, she couldn't just blurt out what she was thinking! And hadn't this crept up suddenly. A shaky laugh escaped at that thought. Gaia, the day before she didn't even register Vincent was male, let alone damned attractive. Yes, you did, her brain disagreed. You just chose to ignore it. Because you feared of ruining everything… Well, that was certainly the truth.
Until their lips met the previous evening, Tifa hadn't been quite so aware that Vincent was a man, just like Cloud. All right, perhaps Cloud wasn't such a good comparison, but damnit, Cloud had been her standard for a good long while. So, her mind reasoned, now that Cloud was gone, possibly for good, she was out of his charismatic jamming field and could see other forms of masculinity.
Oh, she knew Cid and Barret were men, but they were the sort she'd dealt with all of her life. Jocks, mainly. Big, buff, trash-talking males who treated her like one of the boys. But Vincent never had. He'd always shown her the utmost respect and graciousness, simply because he was a gentleman. And just so, being a gentleman, he wouldn't stoop to repeating that questionably disastrous performance of last night, no matter how much she might want him to.
One corner of her mouth turned up in a crooked false smile. "Sorry, I know it's odd, but just…clumsy, you know?" Clearing her throat, she hastily pushed a lock of hair behind an ear, unable to keep eyes on him, still knelt before her. Gaia…
To be continued…