Hee, here I am again! I got some really encouraging reviews last chapter...so I really would like to thank you all...you don't know how much it means to me! Here is the next chapter. Oh yeah...and I cannot believe how much of you actually thought it was some kind of porn that Squall was looking at last chapter! Haha! Er...slight FF VIII spoilers in here..? I'm changing some things around, obviously, but still... ya know... if it turns out that you feel like it's a spoiler (some people have different opinions on them) don't say I didn't warn you!

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The Sparrow Sings

Chapter Six

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"This place really needs some Yuffie charm," she told herself, standing in the middle of Squall's living room early next morning, one hand on her hip that held her weight and her other hand by her mouth, contemplating.

Her eyes flashed with a mischievous glint. She had an idea. And while Squall was bedridden and currently sleeping...what better time to home "decorate?"

She knew why she wanted to change the house around. It was too immaculate, too perfect. It just needed a little bit of a charm. A comfortable charm. Not this 'plastic-covered-couch-don't-touch-that-vase' feeling that it held with pride.

Dashing over to the closet by the bathroom, she pulled out a cool chenille blanket and went back to the living room and threw it carelessly over the couch. She stood by the bookcase, ordered from A-Z, and randomly pulled them out and stuck them in different places, and not all upright. She grabbed a plant off a shelf and stuck it in there and smiled with satisfaction.

Next, she walked outside in only her pajama bottoms and a strappy tank and grabbed the newspaper and, pulling it out of its morning dew covered plastic she set it upon the coffee table as if someone had been reading it.

After making some more fixes in other rooms, including the bathroom, she took her drink, plopped down on the couch, and propped her feet up onto the coffee table. She marveled at how quickly the atmosphere had changed from stiff to comfy in only about an hour.

She didn't know if Squall would like it, in fact, she pretty much knew he wouldn't. But she liked it, and she was in charge from now on. When Squall had agreed to the bet, he didn't know what he was getting into. Oh, no. Yuffie was going to dominate.

And he had no choice.

She giggled and set the glass down on the coffee table (something she would have never dared to do before, especially without a napkin underneath) and flipped on the T.V. just as she heard a noise coming from the bedroom.

"Yuffie?" called Squall, walking down the hall. He looked like Death itself. His face was as pale as a ghost, and his eyes had huge dark bags underneath his eyes, as if he hadn't gotten any sleep. Yuffie wouldn't know, she didn't sleep in the same bed as him; to respect him she had slept on the couch.

"Whoa, you look like Dracula," she commented, raising an eyebrow at him. He gave her a look and she shrugged. "Get back in bed, I already called work. You're too sick."

"I'm going to take a shower," he replied as if he hadn't heard her, gripping a clean T-shirt and pants, and stumbled down the hallway. He hadn't noticed her work in the living room. Either he was too sick, or he didn't give a damn.

She felt slightly let down. She had been expecting him to blow up at her. But, all the better, she wouldn't get in trouble.

Letting her legs down with a sigh, she entered Squall's bedroom, her nose wrinkled in distaste as she took his barf bowl and rinsed it off as quickly and efficiently as she could. She returned it to his bedside and picked up the tray of food which she could see with a secret delight, had been eaten. She tossed it into the sink and skipped back to the bedroom, pulling the blankets, pillows, and sheets off the bed to change them when a something fluttered to the ground.

Curious, she knelt down onto the floor and picked it up. She turned the blank side over to find that it was a picture. Was it what Squall had been looking only the day before?

The picture was of a woman and a man. The woman was fairly young, with long brown hair and a kind look to her eyes that when she smiled, the corners crinkled and dimples appeared on both cheeks. She looked uncannily like Squall. The man had his arms wrapped around the woman. He had longish, dark hair, for a man, anyway, and looked just as happy as the woman.

A droplet of water splashed onto her arm. She sighed. Was the roof leaking? But it wasn't raining. Another droplet splashed onto her arm, then another. Then a voice.

"Those were my parents," said a deep voice from behind her.

She jumped up from her kneeling position on the ground and turned around to face Squall, dressed in the clothes he had taken with him to the bathroom, though his hair was dripping wet.

"I-I'm so, so sorry, Squall. Really I am. I was going to change your bed covers and sheets and then the picture just fell out—I mean—I never meant to—"

"It's all right," he replied, not exactly meeting her gaze but sitting on the bed instead. Yuffie sat next to him and swung her legs awkwardly, unsure what to say next. Realizing she still had the picture in her hand, she quickly thrust it into his and gave a nervous laugh.

"Are they...are they dead?" she finally asked. She immediately felt embarrassed as her sentence hung in the air in the tense silence.

"Yeah," he replied. "The woman, my mother...she died when I was a baby."

He sighed and racked his hands through his drying hair. Yuffie uttered a sympathetic sound, and felt herself compelled to touch his hand. He seemed to be struggling with himself, like he had never told anyone about his past before, and didn't want to, but the other part of him wanted to talk to someone.

Finally, Yuffie gave in and took his hand and squeezed it encouragingly. Instead of pulling away, Squall let her grip it and then started to talk again.

"I never knew her. I never knew my father, either. I was put in an orphanage at the time. I grew up with friends, but... I always felt distant. I wanted... I wanted someone to..."

Yuffie bit her lip, feeling her eyes tear up for him. He seemed to be trying so hard to get it all out, but he was choking up, even though no tears surfaced to his eyes.

"...I guess I wanted a mother and father. I never knew parents. I never had someone to teach me things and teach me to love unconditionally. I grew up knowing hard and cold and no matter what you wished for you wouldn't get it... ever. I always knew the fantasy things like Santa weren't real, and I never really had a real Christmas. You really are lucky to have parents, Yuffie," he said, pulling his hand back.

Yuffie watched him silently. She was at a loss for words. She wanted to comfort him but she didn't know how. How could she ever do anything that would make up for what he never had?

"When I was old enough I left the place. I worked a lot of jobs so I could pay for college. Once I graduated I drove by the orphanage...it had been shut down," he said, pausing. "I met Cid and he offered me a position at his work. I've been working there ever since, and the pay is good. A few years ago I got a call from my "father." Well, from his representatives. They said that he was in the hospital, brain dead. A living, breathing vegetable."

Yuffie felt her breath draw in and immediately her thoughts flashed back to when she had first, somehow, made a joke about vegetables, and how he had stiffened. Suddenly, she understood.

"I visited him. God damnit, why did I visit him?!" he said angrily, shaking his head back and forth. "I saw the man that had abandoned me and... I lost it. I couldn't take it. I watched them pull the plug on him. I didn't stop them. They sent me some of his stuff and his will. I inherited money and anything from his house before they all sold it... like the picture. I never got to ask him why he didn't want me."

Yuffie re-laid her hand on his arm and squeezed it, her heart breaking for him. Watching him like that was painful. "There are reasons why they can't, Squall. Maybe he did want you but he couldn't. Maybe it was too painful."

Squall didn't say anything. He sat leaning over, his head in his hands. Yuffie was surprised he had opened up like he did. Perhaps his sickness had made him not care, anymore, and he felt weak. Weak physically, and weak emotionally, and he wanted to tell someone.

Yuffie wrapped her arms around him, her cheek resting on his back. She felt it was the only thing she could do to comfort him.

"Thanks, Yuffie, but I don't need your pity. I shouldn't have mentioned anything..." he said, sitting up and standing.

Yuffie stood up as well. "You can't always keep things inside of you, like that. They'll just build up more and more until you can't take it. And I'm glad you told me... now I can understand where you're coming from better. I don't think any less of you, you know, now that you told me and all."

"Thanks," he said again.

"I hope you don't think I'm intruding. I mean, maybe they were right, don't you think maybe... I don't want you to think that I'm never leaving. I'll go if you want," Yuffie offered, feeling like she had crossed some line and now she knew their relationship would never be the same again. She couldn't tell for the better or for the worse.

"I don't want you to leave, Yuffie. We agreed on this, right?" he said, walking towards the door. She reached out to grab his arm.

"Where are you going? You're sick. Get in bed," she ordered, feeling happy at his reply.

"I'm better, now," he replied, but obliged without much problem. Yuffie felt her cheer to herself on the inside. He always let her win.

"Good. Do you want anything? Soup? Pop?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I'm a great cook!"

Squall raised his eyebrow, and seemed back to his normal self. "Since when?"

"What do you mean, since when? I've always been a great cook!" she said defensively.

"Mm..."

"I'll show you!" she said, stalking out of the room, in a not-so-angry way. She leaned against the kitchen counter, humming to herself. The whole thing about being a good cook was a total lie. She wasn't a good cook...unless it came to frozen foods, which was much more her style.

That didn't mean she couldn't pretend.

Opening the freezer she pulled out frozen vegetables and put it on the counter next to her then pulled out ready-made chicken fingers. She snickered and was already weaving something to tell him.

'Squall, I made these carrots & peas and chicken myself. I even breaded the chicken breast after I cut it to be the size of a chicken finger.'

She laughed to herself, wondering if she had the nerve to tell him that. Before, she wouldn't have thought twice, but now... now, she didn't exactly want to lie to him. Not that she had wanted to before, but she hadn't been so reluctant.

After popping the chicken in the oven and putting the vegetables in the microwave, she sat down at the kitchen table with her head leaning onto her palm and her other hand drumming its fingers onto the table top.

A pile of mail sat in front of her from the other day. She picked them up and sorted through them, bored, not really looking at them at all, just trying to find something to do with her hands while she waited.

A flashy looking travel brochure caught her eye. On the cover, a large mountain covered in snow with tiny looking skiers (at least tiny against the mountain) skiing down the side, snow flying up on both sides of their feet. She opened it up, now more interested than ever, and started reading the introductory paragraph.

She bit on her nails, staring at the brochure. Winter was here already, although it was barely noticeable. The temperature barely dropped below seventy degrees, nor was there snow. She had never seen snow in her life. Not only that, but Christmas was only two weeks away.

An idea formed in her head as a sly smile formed across her face. Wouldn't it be so fun for Aerith, Kairi, and her to go skiing together? With her "husband" and his friends of course. She could show off and flaunt around with him.

A ding from the microwave shook her out of her thoughts. She prepared the vegetables on a plate and when the chicken was finished, she pulled that out too, arranging them both on a plate with a cup of coffee, making sure to make it look nice.

Brushing off her shorts and her shirt, she walked with the tray into Squall's room. He was sitting up in bed, hair falling into his eyes, which were plastered onto the screen of the laptop.

"Squall," she sang, stretching out his name, "I've got your marvelous dinner!"

She set it down next to him then sat down. He raised his eyes momentarily, muttering a brief thanks. She continued staring at him until he shifted uncomfortably.

"What is it, Yuffie?" he asked with a sigh, glancing up again.

"I have a preposition," she said, a glimmer in her eyes. He looked at her suspiciously.

"What kind of preposition?" he asked, watching her closely.

"I think every once in awhile, a person needs a change of scene."

"Yes..."

"Well, why don't me, you, Aerith, Kairi, and some of your friends go skiing on the mountains? Like, Cloud and Sora and Riku. It'd be so perfect and fun! I've never seen snow before," she gushed excitedly.

"You've never seen snow before?" he repeated, scratching the back of his head.

"Never! I've lived here all my life and my parents never really took vacations out of state, at least, not with me," she said, blushing slightly.

He seemed to be contemplating it. "I...have been saving up money for a big trip..."

She knew she had him. "Oh, I have money too! So does Aerith and Kairi, and with Cloud's position, you can bet he has the money! And Sora and Riku... well, even though they're slackers I'm sure it wouldn't cost so much! And we can spend Christmas there! It would be so wonderful! Two weeks in the mountains. How cozy, huh?"

He sighed, but his eyes betrayed him. Yuffie could see he was interested. "You were looking at that brochure weren't you?"

"Yup. So can we go? Can we? I'll call up Aerith and Kairi right now."

"Well, if we can get a hotel... they probably have a lot of reservations... but other than that..."

"Oh Squall, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed, launching herself across the bed and hugging him hard then almost as quickly as she had come she pulled off and was prancing down the hall towards the phone.

Squall chuckled and shook his head and took a bite of chicken. Coughing and choking, he spit it back out onto the tray, and, making sure Yuffie wasn't there, he spooned most of it into the trash.

"Hopefully the food at the ski place will be better."

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It's a bit short, I know, but I had to end it early because I didn't want the trip to interfere with this chapter. I will try really hard to get this out on Christmas or before but I really can't make any promises. I hope you enjoyed and please review!