A/N: So sorry. This fic is giving me all sorts of trouble! Thank you for the feedback and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Love.

Chapter #21

Reality

Two WRO agents held Genesis against the wall while a third trained a gun on him. He gave all three men an impassive smile and let his body go lax so they had to hold him up. If they wanted him to cooperate he would do so in his own way, however he pleased, and his muscles were quite sore regardless. Being manhandled was truly the last thing he felt like tolerating at the moment, but Vincent had given him a quick word of advice before they turned themselves in to the WRO. Do not resist. Be complacent.

He could do that, albeit grudgingly.

"You have no idea," the man behind the desk said, his eyes moving between Vincent Valentine and Cloud Strife. "Absolutely no idea… what I have been through today. You realize you have breached every protocol we've put in place? Vincent, you're one of our top agents. Do you realize what this looks like? What am I going to tell them?"

"It's your organization," Cloud said, with all the dismissiveness of a cocky young man. Genesis smiled indulgently when the leader of the WRO looked up at him.

"It doesn't work like that! I have a Board of Directors to answer to, Cloud. This is not Shinra. I can't do as I please." Reeve Tuesti pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned.

"The situation was urgent," Vincent said.

"Urgent or not-"

"I made an executive decision."

"Vincent… Look, you've backed me into a corner here. What am I going to tell the press? People are calling for public executions. They want to see Professor Hojo strung up and shot. And Sephiroth- don't even get me started on that. Where is he, anyway? And where is Tifa? She didn't report in this morning. And this man-" Reeve pointed a finger at Genesis, "-what am I supposed to do with this?"

"Get him some medical attention, perhaps," Vincent said.

"Genesis Rhapsodos, formerly of SOLDIER, first class?" Reeve looked directly at Genesis, studying him.

"At your service," he said, attempting a bow. His guards tightened their grip on him, and he frowned. "Is this really necessary?"

"No," Reeve said, nodding at his agents. "Release him. Lower your weapon, Walter. You're excused."

They released him and he rubbed his shoulders pointedly, smiling at Walter as the agent walked by. "Good men," he said to Reeve.

"Yes, they are good men. Do you need medical attention, Mr. Rhaphsodos?"

"No," he said.

"Yes." Cloud gave him a very pointed look. "You should be checked out, at the very least."

"I'm quite fine."

"We have to… I'm afraid we have to quarantine you, regardless."

"Quarantine?" He did not like the word. It sounded cold, clinical, as though his very presence would cause illness and decay. "I assure you there's nothing contagious about me."

"It's for your safety, not ours. And we will need to do a psychiatric evaluation."

"And who is that for?" He straightened his shoulders, though his back ached fiercely, and tried to look imposing. He was beginning to lose his patience with the entire situation. And his mind was far away, not here in the headquarters of the World Regenesis Organization but somewhere indescribable. He wondered where Sephiroth was. He wondered if his friend was hurt, or suffering, or sick. He had been through a week of degenerative torture. Genesis could only pray that Tifa had the capability to take care of him. She certainly had the guts for it.

"Also for you," Reeve said.

"I assure you I'm perfectly sane." He allowed a sardonic smile. "Though I do realize that is precisely what a less than sane person would tell you. The irony is not lost on me."

"Sorry," Cloud said, glancing at him and grimacing slightly, perhaps aware that Genesis wanted nothing to do with labs and tests and anything of the sort at the moment. "Sephiroth will have to be evaluated too, if it makes you feel better."

"It does not." He crossed his arms. "But as you wish, Mr. President."

"Please, call me Reeve."

"As you wish, Reeve."

"Cloud, take him to the hospital ward please." Reeve glanced at Vincent, and Genesis sensed a silent conversation was taking place. "Get a check-up while you're there. Leave your… err…" His eyes fell on the canister they'd brought in. "Just leave that here, until we can decide what to do with it." He leaned back in his chair and groaned. "For the love of God… you ex-Shinra employees. You'll be the death of me."

Cloud smirked at the man and gestured for Genesis to follow him. "Come on."

As the door closed behind them he heard Vincent raise his voice slightly. "Are you not curious in the slightest?" he asked Cloud.

"About what?"

"Whatever private conversation between those two that we are not meant to hear?"

"Not really. Too busy worrying about Tifa." He stopped in front of an elevator and pressed a button. When the slick metal door slid open, a young woman in a get-up not befitting of a corporate office stepped out and smacked Cloud's shoulder smartly.

"Hi! Remember me?"

"Nope." Cloud attempted to sidestep her.

She rolled her eyes like a child, barely glancing at Genesis and clearly not recognizing him. "Every time! Every time something interesting goes down I'm just left sitting in my stupid office. Nobody thinks to call Yuffie."

"It's Vincent's fault," Cloud said. "He specifically told us to leave you out of it."

Her eyebrows went up and she balled her little fists. "He did?!"

"Yep. In fact I was going to call you but he told me you couldn't handle it. Said paperwork was more your expertise than fieldwork. Why don't you go give him an earful? He's in Reeve's office right now."

"That bastard! What's his deal, anyway? I'm a WRO agent as much as he is! Paperwork! Is there anything worse?" She brushed past both of them, evidently not at all interested in Genesis, and stomped down the hall, clearly upset.

Cloud chuckled to himself and stepped into the elevator. "Don't tell Vincent I said that."

"Who is that blaspheming child?"

"Yuffie Kisaragi. She's… well, she's something." Cloud seemed infinitely amused. "She's always been sort of… fond of Vincent. They evacuated Midgar together three years ago."

"How very sweet." He felt slightly ill as the elevator began to move downward, and had to lean against the back wall. There was soft music trickling out of the speaker above his head, and it soothed him slightly. It had been a very long and draining week. In fact, it had been a long and draining month for him. He wanted nothing more than to relax, unwind, perhaps take a little holiday. Presumably that was what Tifa and Sephiroth were doing at the moment. Not that they hadn't earned it, but Genesis could not help feeling slightly cheated.

"You okay?"

"Not presently, no." He leaned forward slightly, his hands on his knees. "Perhaps I do need medical attention."

"Of course you do. You were stuck in that fish tank for a week." Cloud became serious once more as the elevator halted and the door slid open with a soft metallic hiss. "Don't worry about the quarantine- Reeve's just being cautious."

They walked down a brightly-lit hallway into a quiet, sterile white room with a receptionist sitting behind a glass window. She looked up and smiled at Cloud, clearly recognizing him, then glanced at Genesis with a slightly baffled frown. Disgruntled, he strode up to the window. "Good day," he said, "do you not recognize me?"

"I assume you must be Genesis Rhapsodos? Mr. Tuesti informed me you would be checking in." The way she said his name gave Genesis the distinct impression she'd never heard it before.

"Yes," he said irritably, well-aware that Cloud was trying valiantly not to laugh.

Tifa cast a critical eye on the man sitting at the small breakfast bar in front of her. He devoured his food like it was serious business- he didn't look up and he never paused except to gulp down orange juice. When he'd eaten most of his food she piled more of it onto his plate and threw the cast-iron skillet into the sink.

"That's all," she said. "There's no more food, Sephiroth."

He shrugged, scooping a pile of scrambled egg up with a piece of toast and tossing it back. It was like he'd never had a full meal in his entire life. She'd spent so much time trying to get him to eat. Now she was worried he would never stop. Why the sudden appetite? Was he sick?

"You are staring," he said, sucking grease off of his fingers.

For a moment Tifa got sidetracked by the sight of him casually licking his fingers, almost in a sensual way- she gave herself a shake. "You've eaten five eggs and half a pound of bacon," she said.

One of his silver eyebrows arched in amusement. He seemed to be slowly recovering himself, hour by hour, coming alive again. All day yesterday she'd kept a close eye on him and she'd noticed that he'd been distant, almost disassociated. But very slowly he'd warmed up. The tension left his body and his limbs became loose, his movements languid. He'd spent the morning lounging on the sofa, detangling his hair. He reminded her of a cat. So relaxed, yet clearly ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

"I am recuperating," he said.

She glanced at his shoulder. He wore a plain white t-shirt that belonged to Cloud- it was too small for him and clung to his arms and chest in a way she didn't entirely mind. The grey patch of skin had faded to white and looked like it might become a permanent mark. "I'm not complaining," she said, "I'm just worried."

His mouth curved up into a smirk. "Don't worry, Tifa. I am merely preparing for the inevitable. I assume Shinra or your WRO will find us eventually." He impaled one last fried potato with his fork and hardly stopped to chew it before swallowing it whole. "I must be ready for that."

She took his plate for him and took the chair right next to him, setting two mugs of coffee down. "What do you mean?"

He merely looked at her, as though the answer should be obvious.

She sipped at her coffee, pondering. Yes, he would certainly need his strength for what lay ahead. Whatever that was. She hadn't had time until now to really think about his future. Everything had been up in the air. Hojo, Genesis, everything in between all of that. There hadn't been time to slow down and think. She found she didn't want to think about it, either. What would the WRO want to do with him? Oh, there had been plenty of talk last week, but the focus had been mainly on detaining Hojo- the two ex-SOLDIERS had been placed on the back-burner. She felt a knot of tension begin to form in the pit of her stomach.

"Don't look so concerned," Sephiroth said. His voice was almost light, bordering on playful.

"You're much better today," she answered.

He inclined his head and looked down at his coffee. "I feel much better. Forgive me," his voice dropped, "for frightening you."

She shrugged and rested her hand on his large shoulder. "You didn't frighten me."

His eyes were the color of moss today, not quite so otherworldly but still striking. He studied her for a long, silent moment. Tifa was about to ask him why he was staring at her, but finally he looked away and she heard him sigh quietly. He covered her hand with his, swallowing it, his long fingers and large palm dwarfing hers. "I owe you my life," he said eventually.

"I guess you do," she said lightly.

"And my sanity."

She smiled and laced her fingers through his. "You would have found it eventually."

"No," he murmured. "It's you, Tifa. You make me sane."

She blushed and squeezed his hand. This conversation had taken a decidedly heavy turn. She didn't mind- in fact, it sent a secret little thrill down her spine. "Do I?"

Sephiroth turned in his chair so that he was facing her. How had she ever been frightened of him? He was as imposing as ever, tall and built like a perfectly crafted fighting machine, but sitting here and sharing a cup of coffee with her, so human, so at-peace for the moment. She knew there was weakness there, buried somewhere behind his unruffled exterior, and yet that thought only made her feel safer with him. If there was madness somewhere inside of him, it was weak and shrivelled, hardly a ghost of what it had once been.

He blinked slowly and smiled. It was a different smile, one she'd never seen before. Slow, shy, almost awkward. "Yes," he said.

The air between them felt different, suddenly. She tilted her head and smiled back at him, aware that her heart had picked up speed and her cheeks felt flushed. She watched his eyes flicker down to her mouth. He looked back up at her briefly before turning away.

"Sephiroth-" she said, a dozen thoughts vying for attention in her head, wanting to be spoken, but he cut her off almost gently.

"I'm no fool, Tifa. I wouldn't dare to presume more than friendship with you." He looked down at his coffee, his expression rather pained. "I have no experience with love. I had always thought it was a weakness, to attach oneself to another person. While I was strapped down to that table… there were moments I wanted to die. Thinking of you gave me strength. I believe I have some understanding of what it means to love, now. It no longer feels like a weakness."

Tifa was not a person who wore her heart on her sleeve. She didn't talk about her feelings. She didn't want to appear vulnerable. She didn't want people to worry about her. Now, staring at Sephiroth in mild shock, she could admit to herself that she would never have said a word to him about the way he made her feel. But the fact that he felt free to throw it out there, to casually bring it up over a cup of coffee, made her love him even more.

Cloud would never have done this. She would never have done this. She had to reach deep inside herself to find the courage needed to voice her feelings. And even then, words failed her. So she simply took his large hand in hers' and squeezed. He looked down at her, his eyes unreadable. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, testing. They were soft, surprisingly warm. She'd gotten used to the idea that love was not all fireworks and butterflies in her stomach and all of those sweet childhood dreams, so when a fluttering sensation burst in her chest she was honestly taken by surprise. She sucked in a quick breath of air.

He moved slowly, truly hesitant for the first time since all of this had begun. He kissed her gently, his lips moving against hers, drawing it out, almost innocent but not quite. He ran his tongue along her lower lip and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap, and suddenly she had her fireworks. Her head was full of light and sound. There were a million gossamer wings beating against her ribs. She groaned softly and put her hands in his thick silver hair.

He broke the kiss off suddenly, with a low sigh, but still held her in his lap, his eyes roving over her face as though memorizing every detail. She felt a heat in her cheeks that had nothing to do with embarrassment. "You are the strongest person I've ever met," she murmured, pulling her hands through his hair and leaning forward to kiss him again.

All of her silly childhood fantasies about love and romance, about a hero coming to rescue her, seemed suddenly and hilariously irrelevant. This was what she'd been looking for. This was what she'd mistakenly painted Cloud as in her subconscious- someone who would swoop in and pull her up, love her and make her feel safe. This was certainly no fairy-tale. Her hands were tangled in the hair of a man who'd done horrible things. But she knew he would never falter or flake on her, and if there was ever self-doubt it was placed aside. If she ever needed anything, Sephiroth could be counted on. He was not perfect but he was there.

She let her hands fall to his shoulders and then his waist, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his chest. The steady rise and fall of breath soothed her. Sephiroth shifted slightly and slid one arm under her knees, lifting her up effortlessly. She tilted her head to look at him. "Where are we going?" Her voice sounded strange even to her own ears, simultaneously playful and lusty.

"Back to bed." He carried her to the bedroom and laid her down on the unmade bed. With that simple action Tifa became a bundle of nerves and excitement as he hovered over her, his lips finding her throat and laying kisses along her collarbone. She wondered suddenly how long it had been since he'd been with a woman, whether love and sex intersected in his mind the way it did in hers, and whether this was all too much too quickly- but sensible thoughts were quickly fading as his hands began to map out every line and angle of her body.

The next day found them lying in bed well past noon. Sephiroth slept more soundly than she'd ever seen him do before, and when he woke he seemed like a new person. Rumpled and warm, his silver hair disheveled, his chiseled cheeks flushed pink. He kept his arms tangled around her waist as he regarded her with a tender expression. She decided she liked this side of him. Gentle and soft. Lover.

Her body protested in when she rolled onto her side, and she winced slightly. There were aches and pains she'd never had before, proof of yesterday's activities. "Good morning," she said, taking in his face and smiling like a fool.

"Good morning." He pulled her against him gently and buried his face in her hair. She heard him breathe in slowly, inhaling her scent. Despite her soreness she felt herself stirring yet again, wanting more. She pressed her hips against his and he laughed, his breath tickling her ear. "I don't recall the last time I had the luxury of sleeping in," he murmured.

She smiled and kissed his cheek, her mouth wandering to his ear and down his throat to his collarbone. "Let's stay in bed," she whispered.

"I find that an agreeable suggestion." He slid one hand down her hip and across her thigh, eliciting an excited flutter in her chest.

They were interrupted by a frantic knocking on the door. Sephiroth wasted no time. He leapt out of bed and dressed himself quickly- she was sorry to see his body suddenly covered- then left the bedroom with a rather wistful glance back at her.

Tifa groaned and got dressed herself. Admittedly it was probably a good thing they were being interrupted, because she was quite sore, but she still felt a bit of resentment to whomever was knocking so loudly. Sephiroth shifted the curtains slightly to peer out at the front step.

"Who is it?" she asked warily.

"I do not know." He looked over his shoulder at her. "It is a man in a suit- perhaps from the WRO?"

She came up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and looked out the window. Reeve Tuesti was pounding on her door impatiently, looking rattled and out of place in the tropical sunshine, his heavy suit seeming to wilt in the heat. "It's Reeve," she muttered, mentally cursing the man. Couldn't they have more than a day to relax? Sephiroth deserved at least a chance to recuperate. Even though this was inevitable, she felt oddly cheated for being interrupted.

She went to open the door but he beat her to it, flashing her one last soft smile before swinging the door open with a neutral look on his face.