CHAPTER 25: THE PLAN
ShinRA mansion had been abandoned for decades. Thick layers of dust coated the surfaces and dense cobwebs hung in the dark corners. The large wooden door to the grand entrance way shut behind them with a resounding click. Tifa's eyes were wide as she slowly took in her surroundings. Ever since she could remember, everyone had warned to stay away from this place, so she never gave it a second thought. Rumors of strange people and stranger things done by ShinRA behind the mansion's closed doors were enough to keep people away.
"This place looks even bigger from the inside. It's enormous," she breathed. Cloud came up beside her, grin adorning his face. He set his school books down by the front door before heading to the large staircase in the foyer.
"Come on, you haven't seen anything yet!"
She paused and looked at him in awe. "You've been in here before? You know we aren't allowed to play in here."
"Aw, it isn't so bad. Just a little spooky," the blonde said as he beckoned her toward him. He wrapped his fingers around hers and met her eyes with a reassuring smile. "Since when did you follow the rules so closely, anyway?"
That comment had been meant to make her smile, but instead it made that squeezing feeling return to her heart and she couldn't find the strength to muster even a false smile. Unsure of exactly what he had done wrong, Cloud's pale brows knitted together in apology. He gave her hand a quick squeeze, "Come on, I know the perfect spot to talk. You're going to love it!"
Tifa let him lead her up the stairs and down a long, dusty corridor to a set of ornate wooden doors. He opened the doors to reveal a large dining room, complete with lacquered side boards, a large hutch and the longest table she had ever seen. A large chandelier hung above the table, cobwebs drooping from its arms in an eerie canopy. At the far end of the room, long, heavy drapes hung from brass rods, blocking out the natural light.
"Close your eyes," Cloud said as his fingers slid from her palm and Tifa obeyed. She could hear him drawing back the blinds and could sense light hitting her closed eyelids. Cloud prompted her to look, and she opened her eyes wide.
"Ta da!" he grinned, and the sight before her drew an awed smile to her lips. The pane of each window stretched almost five meters high, revealing a spectacular view of the pine woods and the mountain beyond the tree line. Snowflakes danced and swirled in the wind, sprinkling a magical glow upon the scenery. Tifa didn't realize she had stepped forward until she felt her fingers touching the thick glass.
"Oh, Cloud," she sighed. "How beautiful."
He leaned against the dusty wallpaper and smiled at her, his eyes lingering on her thick eyelashes and the smooth skin of her cheek before roaming down to study the emerging curves of her waist and hips. His best friend was changing and it hadn't escaped his attention. The boy snapped his gaze back to Tifa's eyes when she turned to face him, an embarrassed pang reverberating in his chest. What is wrong with me? He was changing, too. The tenor of his voice had begun to slope into a cracking baritone and small muscles bulged from his slender arms. The roundness of his cheeks had long disappeared, while other parts of him were beginning to grow. Cloud constantly battled the desire to be around Tifa. The incessant urges to feel her skin under his fingertips both confused and fascinated him. She smiled at him and his heart stopped. Cloud moved to sit on the floor and used his hand to swipe the dust away from the spot beside him. He patted the hardwood in invitation.
"This is the most private place I can think of. What did you want to tell me, Tifa?"
Slowly folding herself on the floor beside him, the girl kept her eyes on her lap, where her hands fidgeted awkwardly. There was so much she wanted to tell him: that his companionship made her life worthwhile, that she wanted to be in his life for as long as she lived, that she was a wretched thief of life and happiness that didn't deserve his attention…
"There's something about me that I've hid from you all this time. I was afraid you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore if you knew," Tifa began, closing her eyes. She could feel his sapphire ones studying her closely and she took a shaky breath to try and still her quivering confidence. "I was the one who made my Mama sick. She caught her flu from me when I was disobedient and didn't wear my coat during that winter. Then it turned into pneumonia and she died, because I was foolish and defiant."
Fat tears threatened to spill from carmine eyes but she kept her breathing steady. Despite the fear, it felt so good to shed the burden of this secret and to have someone willing to listen. She sniffed and drew her knees to her chest, bending forward to hide her nose and mouth.
"Now, my Papa is so sick from sadness. He drinks a lot and rarely ever spends time with me or his friends anymore. Sometimes he gets so mad that he—he yells, and—"
"He hurts you," Cloud finished for her. "Doesn't he?"
"I deserve it," she whispered. "I took his wife away from him."
Her face disappeared as she pressed her forehead to her knees, letting her black hair falling forward to obscure her further. Cloud's face was creased with a deep frown and he felt the anger rise in his chest. He had suspected that Mr. Lockhart had been responsible for Tifa's bruises but having his daughter believe that she deserved mistreatment fanned the flames of his newfound protective instinct.
"No! Tifa, listen to me." He paused until she lifted her head just enough to peer at him from behind her knees. "Your mom got sick and died—that's what happened. It's no one's fault. People die and the ones who are left behind are always thinking that if they did something different, maybe they could've saved them."
A small whimper escaped from the girl and she hugged her legs tighter. The sound made Cloud's heart bleed with empathy and he moved to put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her flush against his side. Resting his cheek on the crown of her head, he took a deep breath before speaking again.
"My father hadn't been married to my mother when I was born. Mom's family turned her out when they found out I was in her belly. She told me that he died helping us try to escape to a better life, and that there's been guilt in her heart ever since." Cloud stared out at the swirling snow. "But it doesn't make sense. There was nothing she could've done—the bullet was what took his life, not her. The sickness took your Mom, not you."
Tifa shifted to bury her head in his shoulder. "I n-never knew about your dad. That's why people treat you different, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I was always afraid that if you knew about my father, you wouldn't want to be around me anymore."
"Oh, no—never," she let out a brief chuckle between hitching breaths. "You're my best friend." Tifa inhaled slowly, keeping her face hidden in Cloud's jacket. "People treat me differently now, too. It hurts…"
Cloud nodded against her head, before pulling back to look at her. Her eyes were glassy with moisture and the tear tracks on her cheeks glinted in the waning daylight.
"We aren't alone. We've got each other, right? I want to be here for you." He shifted slightly in order to face her more directly. "Don't cry anymore, Tifa."
His heart hammered and blood pounded through his body. Cloud just wanted to erase the heavy sadness he had sensed in her in the years since her mother's passing. Slowly, he began to lean forward, unable to stop himself. What if he ruined everything? What if this one move broke the bond they had made over all of these years? It was too late. Cloud was drawn with a magnetic pull, gently pressing his lips to the side of her mouth. Tifa relaxed against the brief kiss before the boy broke away after a moment or two, face flushed with embarrassment and excitement. He began to apologize until he saw happiness glittering in her ruby eyes; it was only then he allowed a bashful smile to adorn his face. It was alright, she was blushing too. Tifa let out a nervous giggle and wiped her eyes, mirroring Cloud's abashed grin. The way the grey light illuminated his blue, blue eyes made her remember that they were the only clear thing she recalled as she dangled off the wooden planks of that bridge.
"I remembered, Cloud."
He cocked his head in question. "Hm?"
"I couldn't remember things about that day for a long time. But in my dreams, I saw you. You were trying to help me before I fell off the bridge. Were you really there, Cloud?"
The initial confusion in his eyes melted away and his body stiffened. He had worked tirelessly to bury the memory of being too late to catch her hand, of falling into the chasm, of Tifa's blood soaking the gravel. Cloud balled his fists.
"Tifa, I'm so sorry," he hung his head with shame and fear that she would see the guilt in his eyes. "You weren't thinking straight and I wasn't fast enough. You got hurt because I was too slow to catch you when you fell. I was too ashamed to tell you –"
Cloud quieted when she took has face in her hands, smoothing her palms along his cheeks and encouraging him to look at her. She smiled that same gentle smile that that Lia used to give him and it made his heart beat thrum in his ears.
"My own actions led to my injury, not yours," she whispered. Dropping her hands, she scrubbed at her eyes once again. "You should follow your own advice."
The boy let out a weary chuckle and ran a nervous hand through his wayward spikes. Cloud dared to take a glance at Tifa, who was nervously collecting her hair over her shoulder as she looked out the window. He could see the weariness on her features; the scars on her heart from the years of holding onto her secrets and the hurts of her heart. Could she see his wounds as well? Watching his friend transform from her lively, brave self into an apprehensive loner had made it apparent to Cloud how destructive pain and guilt could be. He'd give anything to see joy return to her features. Nothing would please the boy more than taking her far away from all the things that cast shadows on her heart.
"Let's make a deal," he said, leaning to take her hands in his. "Let's promise each other that if there's something bothering one of us, we'll talk to each other about it. No more secrets! Then we wouldn't have to keep anything trapped inside."
Tifa smiled at their joined hands, "I'd like that. All right, I promise." She scooted to rest her hip against his. "Thank you, Cloud, for listening."
Cloud moved to hold her close, wrapping his arms around her. It felt euphoric to release her fears and insecurities and finally have someone see her raw heart without rejection. Tifa snuggled into the older boy, quietly sighing in contentment. Life continuously snatched comforts out of her life, one by one, but she'd be alright as long as she had him by her side. Together they huddled, watching the snow fall as daylight was drowned out by the rapidly approaching dusk. Holding onto each other's secrets, the pair hoped for the chance they'd come upon better days. With hands laced together, perhaps moving forward to face the future wouldn't be so bleak.
… … …
The winter wind blew in sharp gusts that rattled the windows, but Tifa wasn't cold at all. Heat and blood had rushed to her face and her body was tingling with giddiness. Cloud had kissed her—right on the lips! He had held her hand as he walked her home from ShinRA manor, a newfound confidence in his step. She kept her eyes on his back the entire way, wondering when it was that his shoulders had gotten so broad. Mind hazy with infatuation and hope, Tifa bypassed the sound of a glass bottle clinking in the basement and the shuffling sound of Papa's feet on the woodshop's steps. She floated to her room, sighing and smiling until her cheeks hurt. She was free! Telling Cloud her darkest secret had allowed a layer of gloom to shed from her heart. For the first time in many years, joy came flowing from deep inside her. Tifa committed the comforting feel of his lips on hers to memory as she skipped into her room to lay her jacket on her bed.
Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't end up as an old maid. Her body pulsed with energy at the thought of Cloud asking to be her husband and the thought of the peace of knowing that she wouldn't have to live out the rest of her life under Papa's thumb in this sad little house. She spun and swayed, skirt puffing out around her as she hummed a happy little tune Mama used to play on the piano. Tifa drifted over to rest her fingers on the ivory keys, ignoring the small layer of dust. It had been so long since she had even touched Mama's piano. Every time she thought about practicing, stabs of guilt and pain and sadness in her chest made her turn away. But it was different this time—no more guilt. With Cloud's help, she could learn to put her sadness behind her. If she learned how to love herself again, maybe she could figure out how to help Papa, too.
Tifa could hear her father beginning to climb the stairs, muttering angrily under his breath. Brian's footsteps had begun to close in on her bedroom and all of her senses were on edge. She knew by the sound of his gait and the angry slurs escaping his mouth that he was coming for her in one of his usual drunken furies.
"Tifa…" he growled.
Instinct told her to take shelter in her usual spot in her wardrobe—he hadn't yet found her in there. Torn between the need to protect herself and the desire to bring healing to her father, she hesitated. Those hardest to love need it most. The soothing sound of the piano soothed Mama when she was upset. Maybe it would soothe Papa, too. Boldly, she pressed down on the keys and the first cord to that jaunty little song sounded in the room. After all this time, her fingers still knew exactly where to go. Tifa quickly flew into the cheerful melody, concentrating hard as she pulled the notes from deep in her memory. Closing her eyes, she prayed and prayed that Papa wouldn't hurt her and the plunking of white and black beneath her fingers would chase away the hurt and rage in his heart. She listened for the sound of the door knob turning, but the door never opened. Tifa didn't realize that her fingers were shaking until she finished the song and the sound of the final note died into silence.
Had the sound of the piano really kept him away? Nervous that the sudden silence would rouse his anger once again, she grabbed the music book of sheet music on the stand and flipped through it for any familiar piece. The well-worn page of Conservati Fedele, Mama's favorite aria, caught her eye and Tifa set to work at once. Her tentative keystrokes became more confident as she eased into the familiar piece; a steady tune with varying tempo that she hoped was soothing enough to lull her father out of his foul temper. Almost ten minutes later, Tifa ceased playing and held her breath. Her thick socks muffled any sound as she crept to her bedroom door, cracking it open to peer into the darkness. She stepped cautiously into the quiet corridor, ready for hostile words but was met with stillness instead.
The door to Papa's room was ajar. Tifa peeked into the doorway just enough to see the bottoms of her father's boots suspended above the floor where he lay face down on his bed. It worked-at least, for now. Whether she had lulled him to sleep or simply subdued his anger, she didn't know. A tiny sliver of hope bubbled up to the surface of her heart. It would be a journey to learn to heal her father, but at least she knew where to start.
... … …
Mountain winters died a slow death as spring breathed life back into the residents of Nibelheim. Long after the snow had melted, the memory of frost and deadly low temperatures lived on and complaints regarding summer's heat were rarely heard.
The fumes from the paint made Cloud's lungs constrict, but he dipped the brush in the bucket again anyway. It was abnormally hot for early June and the wet paint on his hands made it hard to wipe away the sweat that occasionally dripped into his eyes. He swiped at the bridge of his nose with the back of his arm.
Making money was hard work, but he was full of enough determination to carry him through even the toughest chores. In two days, he was due to take his exams at school to earn his diploma—one of two things he needed to carry out his plan. The other requirement was enough funds to get him to the coast, across the sea and to the east continent. Cloud had already earned a hefty sum of gil from doing odd jobs around the village, which he stored in the wine box under his bed with his news clippings of Sephiroth.
Jason had been hired to work with a wheat farmer in the southern plains; his family's agricultural background and his own savviness at crop rearing landed him a perfect way to make a living. Cloud thought that he wasn't really savvy at anything and swallowed the jealousy in his throat when he mused about how easy it was for bad people to fall into good things. Instead, he chose to focus on the positive side of all this: another one of his bullies had left for good and his departure had left his parents in need of an extra hand around their little farm. His father had been so desperate for a farm hand that he didn't care that help came in the form of the blonde haired misfit. The Hansen's farm was home to two horses, two mules, and four dairy cows. Cloud spent most of his time mucking out the stable and baling hay—two jobs that helped him gain muscle mass as well as the funds for a ticket out of Nibelheim.
White washing Mr. Hagen's fence was taking too long. Cloud looked at the sun and knew he was expected at the farm in an hour or so. With vigor, he quickened the pace of his brush strokes. Mom said that it wouldn't be easy to get out of this place when he told her about his plan and he supposed she knew more than anyone what it was like to leave everything you knew behind as a teenager. Guilt bloomed in his heart when he thought about leaving Tifa in the gloom of her father's house while he sought out a status of glory in SOLDIER. But it was only temporary; he'd come back for her.
Somewhere over the past few months, Cloud had come to realize that he was in love. He wasn't sure how it happened or when his devotion towards Tifa changed from friendship into something more. He had resumed his old ritual of sitting at his window seat as he studied, listening to Tifa play the piano and thinking about how lovely it must look to watch her graceful hands glide over the keys. He had noticed that the raven haired beauty had been on his mind constantly, everything from her gentle voice to the softness of her newly forming curves. As a child, Cloud had read dozens of books and stories about knights and heroes and warriors who would gallantly sweep the girl off her feet after saving the day—but none of them ever explained how one actually fell in love, or what to do once you realized that you were.
And so, the boy floundered, trying to sort out his feelings and actions to show Tifa that he cared. That brief swell of bravery (and instinct?) that brought his lips to hers all those months ago had evaded him ever since and Cloud was frustrated with his own cowardice. Since then, things had changed between them for the better and seeing light return to Tifa's eyes made a sense of relief and pride wash over him. She came to meet him after school often since that day. He held her hand as they walked in the groves and in the evenings they'd climb the water tower to sit and watch the stars. But their time together had been slowly dwindling as Cloud took more odd jobs around town to bolster his savings.
At the end of those stories in the books of his childhood, the hero would marry his damsel and ride off into the sunset. If he could, he'd marry her the moment she turned fifteen and take her to see the ocean like she wanted. Cloud would do whatever he could to take her as his own and make her feel safe and wanted. But getting her father's permission to marry her would be a huge hurdle that Cloud wasn't sure he could overcome. He wasn't sure if there was anything he could do to change Mr. Lockhart's perception of him—but if becoming the strongest warrior in the country didn't do it, nothing would. If he passed his exams, he'd be leaving for Midgar as soon as he had the money. His stomach dropped to his feet when he realized that he'd eventually have to tell Tifa that he was leaving her behind.
"There you are!" The blonde's head snapped upward at the sound of the sing-song voice. The subject of his thoughts bounced toward him in her blue summer dress and a faded apron. "Your mom said you were here."
Without hesitation, she picked up a spare brush near the paint bucket and began to help him white wash the wooden planks.
"Careful, you'll get paint on your dress. You worked on it all winter."
"Eh, I'll be careful," she said, brushing off his warning. "It'll be worth it if I get to talk to you! You've been so busy that I haven't been able to ask you about your job on the farm."
"It's not too bad, though I'm sure you wouldn't want to smell me after cleaning out the stable," Cloud winked.
"I hope you make enough gil to justify smelling like cow pies!" Tifa giggled as she smoothed her paint brush delicately over the wood, eyes bright with happiness and the sun.
"It's not much but it's enough to make losing all of my free time worthwhile," he said, stomach flipping in anxiety at her radiant smile. Wasn't he the one who prompted their promise not to keep secrets? It had been so long since he had seen an uninhibited smile on her face and something died inside him at the thought of making it disappear by telling her his plan, even if it would end up helping her in the end.
"I'm sure all that work is what gave you muscles like that," Tifa said, nodding towards the modest swell of his bicep. "Soon you'll be stronger than Sephiroth!" A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
The girl knew of his long lived fascination with SOLDIER since the first time they had sparred in her backyard. Cloud had been determined to learn how to fight and had gone on and on about his silver haired hero, expressing his desire to be a first class SOLDIER. At the time, Tifa could only raise a skeptical eyebrow at his lofty goals. For someone aspiring to be a warrior, Cloud certainly didn't seem to have a natural talent for fighting and struggled to learn even some of the basics of hand to hand combat. Often times, the boy would grow frustrated when he failed to grasp Tifa's gentle instruction. Losing over and over again to a girl who far surpassed his cunning and skill was too much for him sometimes, it seemed. When she smiled and suggested they take a break from sparring for a while, Cloud agreed. That had been over a year ago. Newfound shyness prevented her from asking him again, though she couldn't pinpoint the reason for it. Besides, Master Zangan had been away on a trip to visit one of his pupils in the south and wouldn't be back until the end of the summer. She'd embarrass herself if she fought Cloud now that she was getting a bit rusty.
"Hey, I know you've been busy, but would you like to take a walk in the woods with me?" Tifa asked, suddenly unable to take her eyes off of the wooden boards. "I-I mean, we used to do it all the time and I thought it'd be nice since we haven't had much time together."
Cloud paused for too long, and she felt blood rush to her cheeks. She snuck a peek at her friend as he fixed the fence with a pensive stare.
"I can't—Mr. Hansen is expecting me and then I've got to study for my exams." He could see her disappointment in the slight drooping of her shoulders out of the corner of his eye. "But I'd like it if you could come over for supper."
"Oh, alright!" she agreed, spirit renewed. "If I start now, I can make a dessert!"
Cloud grinned. She made the best desserts. "Looking forward to it!"
They stood back to admire their finished paint job. Cloud gathered the brushes and picked up the bucket to return to his employer. Tifa carefully wiped her hands on her apron and poked Cloud right on the nose.
"You've got paint on your face!" She tittered as she turned to run back towards the village square.
… … …
There was a handful of money in her pocket that Papa had given her for groceries. It wasn't much, but over the years Tifa learned how to stretch each gil in her budget to the limit. With her trusty satchel, she headed into the market. A week's worth of bread, a pat of butter and a five pound sack of rice would probably cost her thirty gil, leaving only forty left to haggle for some eggs, flour and fresh vegetables. She had to be thrifty—she'd need a few gil left over to bake an apple pie to bring over to Cloud's house later. After acquiring her groceries and ending up with three gil, Tifa made her way to the cart of shiny red apples. She had to be sure to pick the biggest ones since she only had enough money for six.
As Tifa turned a piece of fruit over in her hand, she felt eyes upon her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two ladies whispering to each other near the water tower, holding their baskets of goods. It was soon apparent that they didn't think she could hear their hushed conversation.
"There she is, the Lockhart girl. She's become quite a rare sight in the market, hasn't she?"
"Yes, since her mother died she's been hidden away in that house or running around with the Strife boy. Her father should've remarried. Then maybe he wouldn't lock himself away like that and the girl would have someone to look up to."
Tifa froze where she stood, fingers numb around the apple's waxy skin. A long time ago, she'd walk on the cobblestone street, holding her mother's hand and smiling at everyone who passed by with a 'how do you do' as Mama had taught her to. She pulled foggy memories of flouncing around in lacy little dresses from the corners of her mind. The ladies in the square would coo and fuss over her until she bashfully pressed her face into her mother's leg. Tifa remembered Papa's hand in hers as he rubbed her little head. Where had it all gone wrong?
"She needs a mother figure to remind her how a young lady acts. I've seen her running around in pants when she goes to meet that Zangan fellow."
Shame washed over her body in a violent wave. These people used to be her friends, but now it felt foolish to trust them. Now that she thought about it, they'd treated her differently since Mama died. At first she thought it was just because they didn't know what to say to a grieving child but things had never been the same since. Had they ever cared for her or was it simply her mother that they had cherished?
Standing there in her homemade dress and shabby apron, she felt like a stranger in her own skin. The memories of better days made her feel suddenly lost and frightened. Tifa had been so focused on simply surviving after losing Lia that she hadn't realized the slow descent of the Lockhart family's reputation until it was too late. Perhaps she had simply been too young to understand. Years ago, little Tifa was met with friendliness and smiles everywhere she went. Now, she was met with whispers and stares. Was this how Cloud and his mother always felt? Once she was the beloved talk of the town, today she was a reclusive mystery, in love with the village outcast.
"S-six, please," Tifa said, holding out her gil to the vendor. Heart bleeding, she hurried home to hide away from judgmental eyes.
… … …
Cloud was so nervous. He had taken his final exams at the schoolhouse that morning and now sat along the back wall of the classroom, watching Mrs. Nelson grade the stack of papers. Knee bouncing in quiet anticipation, he watched the teacher's face carefully, grimacing every time she paused and wrote something down. He had to pass, he just had to. If he didn't, he'd have to wait an entire year to retake his exams and he didn't have time for that! Cloud had always been a good student. He had started school with more advanced reading and arithmetic skills than his peers, thanks to Mom's constant attention and tutelage when he was small. Frequently ill and lethargic in his early years, Cloud usually only had the energy to sit there and learn to read and look at his picture books. It seemed that at least in a small way, his frail disposition had given him an advantage.
Estimating his projected income and factoring in his savings, Cloud estimated that he could afford to leave for Midgar sometime in September. That gave him about three months to make as much money as he could and work up the courage to tell Tifa about his plan. Every time he thought about her smile fading and eyes widening with shock and despair at his news, his stomach would drop to his feet. He had played out the scenario over and over again in his head but it had ended poorly each time. Trying to find a gentle way to break this to her was so difficult! But he'd figure out how to do that out later. Right now, he had bigger riddles to solve.
Cloud couldn't remember ever residing in a place that wasn't Nibelheim and had very little knowledge of life outside of the little mountain village. According to the world map he'd seen at school, Midgar was so far off to the east that it was on an entirely different continent! It made him dizzy to think about how about travelling halfway around the world alone and a small panic had set in when he realized that he had no idea how to get to there. When he had asked his mother, she told him that he'd probably have to take a boat once he got to the coast, but had no idea what ports housed passenger ships to the eastern continent. He wasn't even sure how to get to the coast line. Sighing, he rested the back of his head against the wall.
When Mrs. Nelson cleared her throat, Cloud's eyes rose to look towards her desk. Smiling, she beckoned him forward with her hand. He jumped to his feet and rushed to her side, hoping and hoping that her bright countenance meant he had passed.
"You were a good pupil Cloud, I'm proud of you." The young woman blew the ink dry on a thick sheet of glossy paper before handing it to him. "Congratulations, Mr. Strife. It's been a pleasure having you as a student."
A/N: The concert aria Conservati Fedele referenced in this chapter is the work of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
I'm back from vacation and thoroughly refreshed (and sunburned!); thank you for your patience. Now it's back to the full time job and thankfully, back to writing as well. Hope you are all enjoying your summer! I'm glad to be back-I missed hearing from you guys. :) I never thought I'd make a few friends as a result of writing fanfiction, but I'm so glad I did!