Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII isn't mine.

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Chapter 12: Questions and Confessions

Tifa woke up with her shoulder feeling much better. It still ached a bit, but not nearly as much as it did before. She sighed, a tiny smile spread across her tired lips as she crawled out of the comfort of bed. I suppose I should thank Vincent, she thought. She still didn't trust him—at least, not nearly as much as she did.

But, he DID clean and bandage her shoulder. He even bought her new clothes, her own toiletries, and even tampons. If he didn't want to take care of her, if he wanted her to be hurt, if he wanted her to be miserable, would he have done those things? No. The woman may have been angry, but she was able to forgive her captor—at least, to a certain degree. Maybe these items he purchased for her were merely things to buy back her trust, but she doubted it. Not even a diamond ring could buy her trust, so a few common items would earn her thanks but not her trust.

At first, Tifa wanted to think of how to thank Vincent. However, she decided against the idea—words that sound just fine when you imagine saying them in your head almost never come out right when you say them out loud. So, she'd just have to let the words come to her.

She'd already thanked him last night, yes, but she also wanted to apologize for acting so rudely towards him, and thank him again. He didn't seem to purposely hurt her, and yet, she had screamed at him as though he was trying to rape her. He wasn't; she knew that.

The plastic bag crinkled as she slid her hand into it to grab some of her stuff and change clothes. The outfit she was wearing was clean, yes, but Vincent had slid the belongings that weren't in the bag into the bag while she was asleep—or, when he thought she was asleep. He'd quietly crept into the room and though she'd woken up and opened her eyes, he seemed not to notice as she watched her move her things. Tifa thought vaguely that it was sort of a nice thing to do. Now all of her belongings were in one place.

She grabbed her comb and ran it through her hair slowly, but not to be gentle with her hair. She experimented with how her shoulder felt when she moved her injured arm. As she expected, it was a pain, but before Vincent had healed her, as she'd thought before, it had hurt even more.

Dropping the comb back into the bag, she hastily yanked the sheets so that they were neater than they were when she'd gotten out of bed. Her heart rate increased, as she became a bit nervous. Why am I suddenly so nervous? she asked herself. I've been able to talk to Vincent without being nervous before…

The door creaked softly as she pushed it open, sliding into the living room. Vincent was standing near the sofa, leaning his back against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted forward slightly. He seemed to be brooding.

"Um…Vincent?" she said quietly.

At first, Tifa thought the red-eyed man hadn't heard her. Then he blinked once, lifted his head, and then turned to look at her, standing as he normally did.

"Yes, Tifa?"

"…About last night, when I was screaming at you, uh…I'm…well, I'm sorry," she muttered, her gaze shyly focused on his face. "And…thanks again for doing all the stuff you've done for me. I mean, you didn't have to buy me all that stuff so…thanks…and sorry."

Vincent nodded curtly, returning her gaze. "Apology accepted. Actually, you did not need to apologize. It was not your fault that you were angry. I wasn't using my best judgement when I performed the action that angered you so much. And as for purchasing necessities for you, it was the very least I could do. I do not enjoy thinking about you as a captive. I consider you a friend. Also, as I did not allow you to prepare yourself for being away from what you consider home for a long period of time, you would not have had these things anyway," he explained in his usual tone of voice.

Tifa smiled. "Vincent, you're so formal," she sighed.

The man shrugged. "Oh…and one more thing. You may not like this…"

Tifa's smile disappeared. "Say it," she muttered.

"As your rescuers now know your location…as much as I wish we could stay here, we cannot do that…"

The woman closed her cinnamon-colored eyes in aggravation, groaning. "Where are we going?" she demanded.

The ex-Turk shook his head. "I do not know."

The woman sighed. "Can I take a shower and stuff before we leave? And do you have a spare bag, one that's not plastic, that I could use to travel? That flimsy plastic's not gonna be good for traveling."

Vincent nodded. "Yes, and yes. Just so you know, I bought you a spare pair of jeans for the journey, and washed your first outfit. I also repaired the sweater that had been stained and torn when you were shot. As for medicinal items, I have plenty so we will have to share those."

Tifa nodded, though not happy with the idea of having to leave. She'd just gotten comfortable with this place… "So, since you washed my clothes I suppose I'm wearing this when we leave?" she asked, pointing to the wine-colored T-shirt and jeans she had on.

Vincent nodded. "If you don't mind. I would allow you to change but there is obviously a lack of washing machines outside of towns. Oh, and in case you want to put your hair up or something, here." He grabbed a small packet of hair ties off the table in front of the couch. "I bought these while you were asleep, in case you were wondering…because no, I do not wear my hair up."

Tifa suppressed a giggle and took the packet of hair ties. "Thanks," she said.

"I'll find a spare bag while you're in the shower."

"Okay."

The dark-haired woman quickly grabbed soap and shampoo from the bedroom and slipped into the bathroom to take her shower.

Vincent sighed as she closed the bathroom door behind her. Whether or not she trusted him, he couldn't deny the fact that he, well, loved her.

Several minutes later, Tifa emerged from the bathroom, her dark hair gathered in a ponytail. Vincent walked over, handing her a relatively small brown bag with a black strap she could sling around her shoulder. Inwardly, he bit his lip. He could still smell the soap on her.

"Thanks," she sighed, taking the bag. It was barely big enough for all of her possessions. To make room, she tied the sleeves of her jacket around her waist. "So, are we leaving now?"

The ex-Turk nodded. "Yes. Since we'll be walking, I found a spare water bottle for you and filled it up. Don't worry, I washed it," he said, handing it to her.

There was a small pouch on the side of her new bag that she could slide the bottle into. Then she raised her eyebrows. "Hey, Vincent, how do you get the gil to buy all this stuff?"

"I get gil from battling the monsters. Don't we all?"

"I suppose that's true…"

"Well, grab your gloves and we can leave."

Tifa slid her hands into her fighting gloves and made sure her boots were tight before she came back up next to Vincent. "Lead the way," she said quietly.

The breeze felt good on her skin after days of not being outside—not truly outside in the sunlight, able to walk around as she pleased. She smiled, content with her temporary almost-freedom.

"So, Vincent," she said after a while, tired of their awkward silence. "Tell me something about yourself."

"…What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, tell me something about yourself that I don't already know." She sighed. "I'm just bored and tired of the silence, ok?"

Vincent shrugged. "So you still want me to tell you something?"

"Why not? If I'm gonna be stuck with you, I might as well know something about you that I didn't know before."

As they kept walking, the red-eyed man tried to think of something. "Does it matter what?" he asked.

"No, as long as I didn't know it before."

"This…may be a stupid one, but I'm more of a cat person than a dog person."

"Really? Aww," Tifa squealed. "So you like cats?"

"Why not? They're independent. They don't need to depend on anyone else. They can take care of themselves, and no matter how lazy they are one minute, they can be as energetic as they need to be the next. They have their own opinions and don't like letting one person control their life…a little bit like you," he explained.

"Aww," she said, smiling.

"So, why don't you tell me something I didn't know about you?" Vincent suggested. "It'd only be fair."

"Um…you know, I can't think of anything all symbolic like that," she sighed, shaking her head.

"It doesn't have to be symbolic, as long as it's something I didn't already know."

"Um…this one's something I've hid for a long time," she said slowly. "I'll tell you, but you have to swear you won't tell anyone…"

Vincent nodded. "I will not tell a soul."

"Is Chaos listening?"

"He stopped caring about our conversation a long time ago. No, he is not listening. If he starts listening, I promise to stop you," Vincent promised.

"Okay…so…" She bit her lip, slowing her pace somewhat as she stepped over a couple of bumps in the field they were crossing. "When I was fifteen, when Sephiroth was still relatively human, when he came to Nibelheim five years ago…"

Vincent saw how awkwardly she was staring at her feet and frowned. "If you do not wish to tell me…"

"No, I will, if you want to know. I have to get it off of my chest."

The black-haired man nodded. "Alright. But if you don't want to tell me, remember that you don't have to."

Tifa shook her head. "I can tell you. I trust you with secrets, if nothing else. And please don't think any less of me. I was a teenager. Anyways…when he was there, I almost—I repeat, ALMOST, meaning it didn't actually happen—slept with him. I was in his hotel room, and in my underwear, and he was about to…but then I realized that it might not be such a good thing, so I burst out crying and started freaking out and since he was still human he didn't make me."

Vincent blinked. "I don't think any less of you…but…why did you do that?"

"I don't know! He wanted me to tell him stuff about Nibelheim and Cloud and stuff like that, so I did, and I was about to leave his hotel room but all of the sudden I was—I don't know! I just really don't know, but I'm really glad I didn't," Tifa admitted. "…Do you hate me now?"

Vincent shook his head. "Of course not. He was still a human at that time, and not yet a threat to the Planet, which makes things different."

Tifa sniffed. "Thanks, Vincent."

"I did nothing to be thanked for…but I have another question that you need not answer if you don't feel like you should."

"Okay."

"Did you kiss him?"

The woman's face turned a shade of red that was even more piercing than Vincent's eyes. "Maybe," she muttered. "Why? Jealous?" she teased.

Vincent shook his head. Maybe, he thought.

Yumesuta: REVIEW! Please! It took me days to do this chapter.