AN: Sorry for not updating for a few days. Life happens. Anywho, here's another exciting chapter (sarcasm)! More trouble for everyone. Yes, I can make more trouble.
HypernatedRikku: She's not a whore. Really. Her and Reno have a history. Yes, that was Reno. Tijuana Pirate's writing a fic about that night called "Pillow Talk" she should have it up one of these days... (btw, THANK YOU T. PIRATE!!!)
Chapter 11 – Parlando
She didn't speak to him about it afterwards. They both silently hoped that the other was too drunk to remember, and realistic enough to know they hadn't. Yuffie barked orders at him as their employee-employer relationship demanded and he silently threw out the rowdy men, his sword strapped to his back to make him look bigger. Cloud was too strapped for gil or purpose to leave, and Yuffie was too strapped for help or company to make him. So now it was days later, enough days to convince themselves that maybe things could work out on the surface.
Then again, anything works out on the surface.
The first to notice the change in her demeanor was Tifa; always the observer to other's feelings, a trait that annoyed Yuffie to no end. She would just give her that purposefully caring look and Yuffie wanted to cry and spill all of her troubles onto the table. And fittingly, there was a table in front of her, but instead of her troubles, there were only warm mugs of tea, steam rising slowly into the air.
"Yuff... what is it? You're not as..." Tifa began, voice filled with that annoyingly endearing sort of worry. Yuffie cringed.
Saccharinely predictable? Getting into trouble the obvious way? Happy?
"...Spunky? Sassy? Annoying?" Yuffie continued, and then softened, "That obvious, huh?" Tifa nodded, putting her hand out on the table to hold or to slap; whatever physical reaction would make the other feel better.
"Are things going alright at the bar?" Tifa asked, already knowing she was wrong, "The employees treating you alright?" Yuffie cringed at the word employee.
You're too good at this Tiff. They should make perception like yours illegal.
"...kinda..." the younger woman mumbled, "...stupidmanwhorepunk..." The words came out quickly, too quickly judging by Tifa puzzled expression. Then her expression turned knowing, a small and almost sad smile adorning her lips.
"It's a boy isn't it?" she whispered as the pressure suddenly dropped in the room.
Oh, that's not even fair. Here's the real kicker Tiff: he broke your heart once or twice too. I should have followed your example, huh? Except children and atoning dead guys aren't my way to happiness.
"Is it?" she repeated, breathy and full of feminine wisdom and uncertainty; for both were the same when women were concerned.
"Do you ever substitute, Tiff?" she replied, lacing her fingers together and propping her chin on them, "When you know something is real and go for the flashy get rich quick scheme instead?" Tifa considered her words while sipping her tea, leaving only the dregs. She stared at the remaining tea leaves.
I wonder if she can do that crazy tea leave fortune telling...
"I guess we all do," she finally answered, still staring at her cup, "A failing I suppose."
No Tiff, you're supposed to tell me that people are good and true and that I should...
"You can even substitute one love for another," she continued, still staring at the cup, "Forgetting that achingly romantic love for the unconditional affection of children."
No no no, you're the strong one Tiff; don't make me be that...
"No!" she shouted softly, a hollow sound in comparison to her usual screaming, "I didn't ask for that." Tifa looked up; a confused and almost hurt look in her eyes. She saw a strange mix of things in Yuffie's eyes, and covered her mouth, like she didn't want to speak what her mind had told her. Tifa didn't press the issue, she understood somehow, seeing her own eyes reflected back at her with a Wutain twist.
"Maybe you should read more," Tifa said, distractedly checking on the children, aware that Shera had their full attention in the other room.
Maybe. Maybe things would be different. But you can't expect me to be a scholar.
Yuffie nodded, and then let her head sink back into her hands. Tifa tried to keep from looking helpless, but failing only in her down turned eyes.
"Why did you save them? Really." Yuffie asked finally, small and quiet from the back of her throat. Tifa eyes opened wide, and then relaxed when she looked at Yuffie's mischievous grin.
"I had a choice, Yuff," she whispered, with intensity, "Now, I don't have one. You can't pick them..."
Who? Who can't you pick?
"You can't pick who you love," she continued, soft and subtle, "Even at the cost of losing yourself."
"You could say that again," Yuffie finally exhaled, the humor returning to her cheeks. Tifa smiled.
"Oh, and a word for you," the shinobi added, "Before you get all wise with me."
"What is it?" Tifa asked, daring to sip her tea again. Yuffie grinned wickedly.
"I'm locking you in a closet next time," she said, giving Tifa cause to choke on the hot liquid flowing down her throat, "Unless you two get busy. Capiche?"
Later...
"I think you should take a look at some of my translations," he said, handing her the notebook. She looked it over, lingering over a brush of fingertips.
Another Saturday night had come, with the icy breezes carrying clouds that threatened snow. The windowpanes were frosty, and Tifa had bundled herself up into a bulky sweater and loose pants that allowed her wooly stocking clad feet to be covered up. Still, she shivered, bringing up her knees as she draped herself in the stiff wooden chair next to the table.
"What is new?" she said, eyes scanning his uneven scribbles. He cleared his throat.
"I think I may know more about... Surrender," he whispered carefully, tensing up every muscle in preparation.
Surrender... Cloud?
"W-what?" she stammered, eyes still transfixed on the page. For what she saw on the page also caught her attention.
Origin of the Emotives – Tiveph's Last Legacy
"What does this mean?" she hesitantly asked, unable to look up at him. He breathed.
"I'm not sure," Vincent said carefully, shuffling a few papers distractedly, "But it may mean that we... need to talk to Cloud. He may be worse off than we originally thought."
She blinked, and attempted to steady the tremors in her hand.
Maybe I didn't save him...
"His mind is... unstable. With the awakening of an Emotive, he may turn... violent," he continued, eyes carefully watching every tremble, "He is a danger to himself. To anyone close by."
Close by... but where is he? Who might he put in danger?
"Where is he? What is an Emotive? Why is he in trouble?..." she rattled off quickly, unable to see the wince Vincent made upon seeing the concern in her face.
"I will help him for you, if that is what you wish," he answered in hush tones, eyes averted. She looked over at him, puzzled by his behavior.
Why won't you look at me?
"...Vince?" she said, momentarily forgetting her tirade, "What is it? Are you alright?"
"Almost cruel," he whispered, and then his voice grew louder, "I know where he is, Tifa. He's been with...Yuffie, taking care of the bar."
Oh no... Poor Yuffie. I think I understand now... but...
"...Why didn't you tell me? Why are you hiding things from me?" she muttered, a hidden strength in her words, "...What is the truth, Vince?" He turned a page of the notebook, the paper crinkling under his cold inhuman fingers.
"...The truth is..." he began, swallowing a lump in his throat, "...I...I..."
A crash sounded, tearing their eyes away from the table. Their instincts forced them to stand, but familiarity caused them to stand side by side. They did not have to wait for the intruder long.
"...He's infatuated with you, can't you tell?" a cold and hollow voice spoke, resonating with the chilled air. A cold hand touched her shoulder, causing her to tense. She relaxed when she realized it was Vincent. His expression was grim.
The figure stepped through the doorway, revealing a proud and arrogant stance, though shorter stature. His eyes regarded Tifa hungrily.
Please don't... Surrender.
The figure brush aside a wry piece of hair; it was the color of honey and sunshine. Though, it was not as she remembered, from childhood on to adulthood. The rest was the same, blue eyes, pale skin... but there was something wrong with his hair...
Cloud Strife now had a lock of silver hair.
AN: Mwhahaha! So, what is up with Cloud? Not telling. Read later. Answers will come, trust me.
Theme Songs: Rose A Perfect Circle, Aenema Tool, and Whisper Evanescence