Chapter 3: Regrets and Promises.

Zack stumbled wearily out after a long, hot shower, and plopped down onto his bed.

He'd really over done it. That sword felt like a 2 ton weight by the time he'd finished with his exercises. It had been an unusually frigid November night. But even the exhaustion and the cold, and now the aches, couldn't take his mind off her.

/Tonight's the first night in... what... a week... that I haven't gone to that blasted bar to watch her...

Knock knock.

Some rude jerk was now standing outside his apartment door, threatening his much needed rest.

He didn't answer on the first knock. Or the 2nd, or the 3rd. But on the 4th he finally yelled out.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. I'm sorry to disturb you..." Her voice barely carried to his ears, but he hurriedly jumped into his clothes and opened the door, just in time to catch a glimpse of her shivering form turning out of sight.

"Tifa!" He took off running.

/What are you thinking? Going out into this night without a coat?

He folded her into his arms reflexively when he caught up to her.

"You just walked from the bar like this?"

"I just... had to see you... and I ..."

He shook his head, biting back the lecture on his lips. She was clearly upset about _something_.

She looked up at him, a storm of confusion in her eyes, still shivering fiercely. After a few minutes of rubbing her arms to warm her, he admitted defeat. He was starting to feel the chill himself.

"Come on," he tugged firmly, pulling her in the direction of his door.

/Maybe we're not meant to have hot, horny sex, but I can't let you wander around like this...

She whispered her thanks as he draped a woolen blanket about her shoulders.

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It was past 1 am when they settled down across from each other in Zack's living room. The flames from the fireplace licked glints into her brown eyes, and the effect was nearly hypnotic. He had to stop staring so he could pay attention to the words forming on her lips. She'd moved her lips abortively several times, and was now clearing her throat in another attempt.

"Zack, I think I've... hurt you... and I just want you to know... that ... I'm sorry."

"Tifa...," he muttered uncomfortably.

"Please...just let me finish," she added at length, her eyes now fixed on the floor. "I'm sorry I tried to... use you. You've been so nice..."

He shook his head, raising his voice just a little. "Look, Tifa... I used _you_ too. I knew you were hurting, and I thought I could take advantage. I'm the one who's sorry."

She looked up for a moment, then lowered her eyes again. "I know..."

A strangely comfortable silence descended over them, shattered when she looked up again, and caught the full warmth of his eyes on her. She blushed, but she didn't turn away.

"Hey, listen, I'll forgive you... if you forgive me," he offered helpfully, hoping she saw genuine friendship in his smile.

"Ok," she smiled, her eyes brightening for the first time that night. When she extended her hand, he pulled her to him with a fierceness that surprised them both.

They held each other a long time. He watched her close her eyes, her head on his shoulder, and his eyes fell closed as well. But then he stirred, and her eyes fluttered open.

There was one other thing he wanted to say, so he deliberately brought her face up to his.

"No more bullshit between us, okay?" He pleaded, his palm cupping her cheek.

"I promise," she replied softly.

"Me too," he repeated, before planting a kiss on her forehead. She smiled again, and he felt strangely happy.

******************************************************

Zack threw his work clothes to the side, before kick-starting his shower.

/What happened last night?

Tifa left shortly after she'd promised she'd be straight with him. And he'd promised he wouldn't play games anymore. They were gonna be friends for real this time.

But he didn't have time to sort it out -- he was asleep moments later. At least it was a good night's sleep.

He stepped under the weakly spewing showerhead.

/So we're gonna be friends. It could be worse. She's beautiful. She's a great cook. Decent company, too. She needs a friend who isn't always talking about Cloud. Barret means well, but telling her to get over Spike' isn't gonna do it...

He could do that, be her friend. It'd be tough not to stare at her, not to want her--hell, he couldn't help that--but she didn't seem to mind his looking, sometimes. As long as they were honest with each other, they could be good friends. There were a few things he'd always wondered about when Cloud used to tell him about her. He wouldn't mind finding out how that little girl grew up so tender-hearted -- if she wouldn't mind talking about it. Maybe-- if it wouldn't remind her too much of Cloud...

/But...does this mean I can't go to the bar to... stare at her anymore?

/Hey, I still gotta get my drinks, right? I'll be there as her buddy, though... God, that'll be... weird...