A/N: Just some fluffy before we get into more missions.

Chapter 12

A Takeout Kind of Night

Tifa had already called her staff and gave them the night off. Operating a bar for several hours after returning from a WRO job didn't interest her, especially when hungry kids still needed dinner. She shut the backdoor just as she heard fighting over a game controller. Cloud can handle it.

She pulled the truck out of the garage, hating that she was driving when the café was so close. But the thought of carrying back food and drinks for several city blocks didn't sound appealing after the stressful mission. Tonight was a takeout kind of night, and that called for getting it easy.

Tifa stopped at a red light, one of the few installed in Edge. Reeve was still working to build that part of the city infrastructure. His tireless efforts to see to everyone's comforts was one of the things she liked most about him. A massive task for one man, but Reeve was experienced in that field. Urban planning and the needs of the masses were his specialties.

Just before the light turned green, a rapping sound on the passenger side window interrupted her musing. Vincent stood on the other side; appearing out of nowhere was one of his extraordinary talents. She unlocked the door and motioned for him to get in as the cars behind her honked impatiently.

"You always cause traffic jams?" Vincent slammed the door shut and adjusted his holster into a more comfortable position.

She grinned at him as she lifted a shoulder to deliver a playful response, "Only when handsome hitchhikers are around." He ducked his head as she drove them across the intersection. She glanced sideways to see he had concealed his face in the cowl of his cape, making it impossible to know if he frowned or smiled at her impulsive flirtation. She turned left, thankful that her driving demanded enough of her attention that she could play off the outburst.

Before she could worry about the uncomfortable silence, he spoke up with an obvious question. "So, where are you headed?"

"Oh, right! Getting some takeout from the Tonberry Café a few blocks down." She glanced at him again to see him staring at her with a lopsided grin. "What?"

"Nothing." Her eyes darted between the road and him, wondering what he found so amusing about her suddenly.

"What? You're making me nervous!" Tifa could barely concentrate on steering while his gaze burned into her.

"I just noticed how close you sit to the steering wheel." He chuckled at his observation as if her shorter height was something new.

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm taller than average, Mister. Not all of us can be as tall as a zolom!" She jeered back at him, and he held up his hands in defeat.

"Noted." His laughter died out as she pulled into the café parking lot. The small restaurant was situated near Sector 2, offering patrons outdoor seating facing the destroyed city. A metal railing had been built to deter anyone from climbing into the debris. Some cleanup effort had been started on this side of town, giving this part of Edge a more optimistic outlook.

Vincent followed her in and stood close as she read out their order. Tifa paused as she looked at the menu, suddenly unsure what she wanted for herself. "Uh—Vincent, why don't you order yours? I'm still deciding."

"Just a sandwich basket," he said from behind her.

"Oh, I'll have the same. That sounds good," she piped up immediately. The longer they stood there smelling the aroma of the café, the hungrier she became.

"Add a family-sized pineapple salad to that." He handed the server his card before Tifa could pull hers out of her bag.

"You don't have to do that," she tried to intervene, but the server grabbed his card and ran it through the payment reader.

"Too late." He put his card back in a pocket and gestured for her to pick a table while they waited for their order.

They sat at a table overlooking the ruins of old Midgar. Tifa shook her head, thinking of the horrors that continued all this time deep beneath the surface. Sometimes it felt to her like nothing had been achieved, nothing had changed.

"You ok?" Vincent watched her with his hands folded in front of his face as he leaned back in his chair, elbows propped on the armrests.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking about Shalua and what she must have endured." Tifa saw a flicker in his eyes, a twitch of his eyelid as though a horrible memory caused the involuntary reaction. "Are you ok?"

"What do you mean?" He held his chin in his hand, never dropping his gaze.

Tifa fought the embarrassment she felt for having asked, but her worry for him urged her on. "I just worried that—well, Cloud seemed affected by her rescue. There were a couple of moments that he sort of reverted back to that blank look, you know?" She looked down into her lap, unable to meet his unreadable expression. "I just worried that it had you thinking about your own past too. And what happened?" She left the real question unasked. Are you thinking about your own time in the hands of evil?

When he kept quiet, she continued to explain, "I just mean—your memories must be—painful." She met his gaze and felt relieved that he wasn't glaring back. He appeared understanding, and a small smile flitted across his lips. "I don't want you to leave and go back to spending all of your time alone, is all."

He chuckled at her and leaned forward, placing a comforting hand on her fingers. "You worry too much. My mind is resilient." She nodded in agreement as he pulled his hand away. He and Cloud had many differences, strength of mind being one of them. "Besides, it was always my emotions that got the better of me. Shamed as I am to admit."

Tifa tilted her head at him. Did he really mean emotions? That was one thing he always seemed to control. Barret was emotional. And Cid and Yuffie. But not Vincent. The longer she sat quietly staring at him, the more she realized that maybe she didn't give him enough credit for his feelings. His thoughts—and sentiments for Lucrecia led him to his doom—and then to self-exile.

He looked away from her suddenly. Sometimes it seemed he could read her mind. She dismissed the burning question she wanted to ask—about Lucrecia. Maybe later she would tackle that subject with him. But not yet. She feared the topic would upset him. Better to stick with safer conversations for now. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. I love having you around more. You feel more part of the family than before!"

"Appreciate you saying it," he smiled another lopsided grin, and her heart swelled a little at the sight. "To tell you the truth, I feel closer to everyone. I used to worry that rejoining the living would be too difficult. But our team—you," he paused, holding her gaze before he continued, "I never could've stepped back in without these connections."

Tifa felt her cheeks heat at his gaze, his words—the emphasis that she was a reason he gave up solitude. "You know you're always welcome." She laughed at herself as a silly thought popped into her head. "You could even move in if you wanted!" Her laughter brought back the lopsided grin to his face.

"You're out of space. I don't think the kids' room would work for me," he smirked, and she laughed harder, trying to imagine his tall form laid out on a kid-sized bed.

"Well, there are two other options. But fair warning—Cloud kicks in his sleep!"

His smile widened. "I guess I'll take the other option instead."

A shocked look passed over his face briefly as his words and their meaning seemed to dawn on him. Tifa's face heated as she sucked in a breath. A sudden tingle had her crossing her legs, fearing that he would notice the burning pleasure that had traveled through her body at his suggestive slip.

Neither spoke through their intense stare at one another, but it wasn't awkward. She caught a flash of anticipation in his eyes, a glint of hopefulness she wanted to be true.

The mood was abruptly disrupted when the server shouted their order. "Number 6!"

Vincent held a hand out to help her from the chair and said, "That's us." She quietly followed him to the counter, and they picked up their To-Go bag.

She could think of nothing to say. His flirtatious response was thrilling and chased all coherent thoughts from her mind. She at least composed herself enough to handle her truck. But neither one of them revisited the topic as they headed back to 7th Heaven.

When they made it back home, she detected the kids still shouting at each other over the video game. Barret unsuccessfully tried to invoke some discipline, but he was truly as soft as a magic bunny where the kids were concerned. "If y'all don't knock it off, I'm gonna take that away for a whole week!"

"Foods here!" Tifa passed through the door as Vincent held it open for her.

"Vincent!" Marlene tackled him, nearly causing the drink carriage to spill out of his hand as she fought to climb into his embrace.

Cloud followed them in through the door, carrying a pile of mail. He eyed Vincent for a few moments, appearing as though he battled internally to speak. His mouth opened and shut, but he turned without even offering a greeting. Tifa rolled her eyes at him. She wished he would finally just spit out whatever was bothering him about Vincent's frequent presence. She knew he wasn't jealous of him. But the inconsiderate glowers and snubbing were becoming intolerable.

Tifa dropped the matter for the moment as Cloud helped the other men set the table and urged Marlene to pick a seat.

"I'm gonna sit by Vincent!" Tifa bit back a smile when she noticed Vincent fighting to hide his amusement. He never admitted it, but she knew Marlene had him wrapped around her little finger.

She rifled through the mail as the others dove into the meal. "Oh! Here it is. Finally!" She held up two envelopes etched with fancy lettering and symbols, giving an appearance of being decorated with gold filigree.

"What is it?" Barret asked through a mouthful of fried potato.

"Our invitations to the gala! I thought Reeve had forgotten us this year." She placed the mail on the counter and joined the rest at the table.

Barret and Cloud both groaned, but Vincent only looked up in confusion as Marlene and Denzel slyly threw bits of salad at each other.

Tifa glared at their unenthusiastic expressions. "Oh, come on. It's fun every year. This time they're going with a casino theme!" They still didn't look interested, but she glanced at Vincent and pressed on. "Are you going this year, Vincent?" She asked him with a hopeful plea, more desperation radiating in her voice than she meant to reveal.

"Sounds like it'd be crowded," was all he said as he caught a pineapple sailing through the air toward his face. Marlene giggled at Denzel's accidental misfire but cheered as her aim hit her target, and the boy let out an "Ugh!" when the piece of fruit stuck to his forehead.

"Knock it off," Tifa gently warned them, and the kids obediently remembered their manners. She turned her attention to her sandwich, avoiding Vincent's stare and quickly taking a bite in an attempt to hide her disappointment.