Chapter 2 of Life goes on.
Disclaimer: I own zip.
Posted: 2-8-06
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Placing the publication of Tour monthly into a cupboard, she stifled a yawn. It was 11:40.
"I'm glad you decided to stay here a little longer." She faced the enigmatic, dark man with a warm smile. "I thought you'd left for your home already."
"I did." He said.
He was a vague man and she sometimes wished she could read into his sentences like she could do with Cloud. Because right now, she didn't exactly know what he was implying. "Oh…well, you're welcome to stay here if you have nowhere else."
He nodded slightly.
"Would you like something to drink?" She asked.
"I haven't had one in a long time."
She smiled. "I do serve non-alcoholic ones also."
"Water will be fine." He said.
"Ice?"
"No."
Grabbing a bottle of spring water, she handed it to him. Silence flooded them. Tifa saw the place was clearing and grabbed a rag to wipe down the empty tables, pondering why he had shown up. Not that she minded much. He seemed to enjoy silence, one of the things she liked about him. Whenever they were together, though rare, it had been easy to be in his presence.
Half an hour later, she watched the last of the night dwellers half stumble out of her bar. She locked the door behind them, switching the sign to 'Closed' and turning off the front lights. Rinsing off her dirtied rag, she hung it above the sink. A yawn escaped her lips as she checked to make sure everything was in place. With a start, her eyes met dark, brooding ones.
She had nearly forgotten he was there. She saw the corners of his lips lift momentarily in an indistinguishable smirk. Knowing an apology wasn't needed; she walked around the counter and sat in the stool beside him. They sat there, quiet for some time.
He broke it. "I hope I'm not intruding."
"A friend of mine never intrudes." She said quietly.
He stared at the labeled bottle unblinkingly. "It's been a long time since I've been called that."
"Usually the term is implied"
"Not for me."
A pause filled the air.
"You don't know me." He said tonelessly.
"I don't." Tifa admitted.
He remained silent. It was his way of ending the conversation.
Standing up, she smiled at him. "I'll go prepare the guest room."
"No need. I could sleep here."
Tifa looked at him incredulously. "On the ground?"
"Where else." He turned to her, raising an eyebrow faintly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"No." She said firmly. "Unless you have a good reason, you aren't sleeping on the dirty floor of my bar."
He stared at her for a minute. "Fair enough."
Her face broke into a small grin. She treaded up the stairs in search for laundered blankets. After smoothing out the sheets, she draped a couple thick blankets on top, leaving one more on a nearby chair in case that wasn't enough. Unsure as to whether he actually took baths or showers, she put a folded, fluffy light blue towel on the spare desk in the corner of the room along with the necessary toiletries.
Heading downstairs, she peeked out from the wall obscuring the stairway. "It's ready."
He stood up, his tattered red cloak swishing from his movement and she noticed for the first time that he had a bag slung by his side. Following behind her, she led him down the hall. "The bathroom is here." She pointed at a medium sized room across from the guest room. "The guest room is across from it." She stepped out of the way so he could pass.
He gave a nod.
She turned toward Denzel's room and halted, saying without hesitation. "Goodnight Vincent."
Surprise flittered across his face, most likely from not having heard those words for some time. "Goodnight…Lockhart."
With one last smile in his direction, they turned in for the night.
…………………………………..
Dropping off their bags a little heavily, they headed upstairs immediately. The hike had been refreshing and definitely enjoyable.
Denzel was still bursting with energy and Tifa didn't feel as tired as she thought she would be.
"Do you want to take a shower first?" She asked him, taking pleasure in his beaming expression.
He shrugged. "Sure."
She smiled. "Go ahead. Then we'll have lunch."
He nodded readily at the thought of food and bounded to his room.
Tifa entered hers and pulled out a casual outfit, including loose, faded jeans and a gray sleeveless shirt. Setting her towel ready, she stretched her limbs, walking back down to her bar. She had decided she would open it tomorrow. Today was dedicated to Denzel. She had thought about taking Vincent along with them for the hike, but decided it was best to leave him alone for the time being.
Reaching the foot of the stairs, she saw the familiar red cloak at the same stool last night.
"Good morning." She said.
He turned to face her. He looked slightly worn out. "Good morning."
Tifa gazed at him in slight concern. "How was your sleep?"
"Fine." He answered impassively.
She switched topics. It would not do any good to pester him. "Denzel and I are going to grab something to eat at the market. Would you like to come?"
A moment went by. And she was sure he would decline.
"Alright."
Covering up her shock in a split second, she smiled. "We'll be ready in twenty minutes."
He gave a small nod. She returned to her room.
Five minutes later, Denzel stepped out of the bathroom, soap scented mist curling and reaching out behind him. They had a total of three bathrooms in this place, two, separated to men and women's, downstairs for costumer use and a private one upstairs. Originally all three bathrooms had showers, but after some help from a couple friendly workers, she had torn out the showerheads and installed two more stalls in each bathroom downstairs. Now the whole house only had one complete bathroom with both a stall and a bathtub.
Brushing wet locks of autumn red from Denzel's face, she gave him a gentle tap before heading into the bathroom, steam still dampening the air heavily.
She quickly started by sliding the lathering soap down her body, the scrub mingling with the dirt and sweat. Releasing a reasonable glob of shampoo onto her hand, she applied it to her hair thoroughly. Hanging the object she used to clean her body on a hook nailed into the shower wall, she rinsed herself of cleansers and shampoo. Wiping herself clean, she dressed in the bathroom.
"Ready Denzel?" She called. Tousling her soaked, medium length, ebony hair with a towel, her hair curling as it always did when it was washed.
"Yeah." He came out of his room, dressed in a forest green shirt and blue jeans. He was quite the striking young boy.
Grabbing her keys and some cash, they started downstairs.
She felt him stiffen next to her as they reached the last step in unison. Oh yeah.
"Vincent came last night after you went to bed. He's going to eat lunch with us." She said to him.
Denzel looked at the stoic man leaning against the front door wall for a moment as if unsure of something. He shrugged. "Okay."
Tifa smiled warmly. And together, they headed for the market.
No, they were not going to the wall market. This market was recently opened, having had many restaurants and shops smashed by the enormous metal and rock foundations that supported the now non-existent top layer. She had been to these lines of shops a couple times, mostly for groceries. It wasn't anything special as the place was still under construction, nothing beautiful about it, no sprinkling water fountains or trimmed hedges. The road was not paved with slabs of matching stone designs as they were apparently working on; it was still a dusty, dirt road.
There were toyshops, flower shops, snack stands, fake jewelry and trinket booths and various types of food stands and restaurants. The newly opened shops were also grimy on the outside, the inside, however, was more pleasant.
Denzel looked around curiously, hands stuck in his pockets. Vincent merely looked ahead uninterestedly. She led them to a café called The Café.
The originality had stunned her to no ends.
Pushing open the doors, they were greeted with the site of classy, dark mahogany chairs and tables. The counter stretched, the length about two thirds of the room, hooking against the sidewall on both ends. 'The Café' was bigger then Tifa bar and several waitresses scurried around, tending to customers. A middle-aged man dressed primly and a plump woman in similar attire stood behind the counter, ringing up prices. The place was a self-seating place, so she indicated to a square table able to hold at least four people.
"I'm paying." Tifa said simply, stilling the hand Vincent had inside his cloak.
His shoulders lifted and he dropped his hands to the table.
A waitress appeared. "What can I get you guys?" She asked chirpily.
Tifa looked at her amusedly. "It would be easier to decide if we had menus."
"Oh!" The girl blushed profusely, quickly handing them each the menu stored in her apron pouch. "Sorry about that."
"No problem." Tifa said dismissively. And because she decided to ease the girl of her understandable clumsiness, she added. "First day on the job?"
"Yes." She said, relief at the cordial attitude of this woman showing obviously on her face. "I started an hour ago."
The girl mustn't have been more then 16.
Tifa smiled understandingly and gestured to the list of options for lunch. "I'll have a hamburger with everything on it, fries and a coke."
The waitress nodded eagerly and scribbled down on the pad. She turned to Denzel with a questioning expression. "Same." He said. She jotted down his request and her gaze traveled to Vincent. A gasp escaped her lips, poorly covered up by a cough. She suddenly seemed to shrink backwards.
Tifa almost wanted to roll her eyes. It wasn't like he was going to eat her alive. Well, at least she tried to cover it up. It couldn't be more apparent that she came from the upper plate.
Vincent only looked on bored, "I'll have a steak," the humor in his voice easily missed.
She nodded quickly and without bothering to write it down, hurried off as if she had a wolf snapping at her heels. Poor girl.
"Stupid girl." Denzel muttered, rolling his eyes. Tifa chuckled. Or she was going to.
Denzel turned wide-eyed to the man the sound had emitted from. Tifa broke into a wide grin. Vincent also looked a bit surprised at his outburst, the amusement in his eyes deepening at the same time.
"Despite the popular belief, I do have human reactions." He said indifferently to the auburn haired boy.
Now it was Denzel's turn to turn red. "Uh…" He didn't seem to be able to go on from there.
Tifa held back her mirth. "Don't worry Denzel. I was just as shocked."
"Then I am disappointed in you, Lockhart." Vincent said, something in his voice telling her to play along, shocking her yet again.
She cocked her head slightly. "Forgive me, Valentine. After watching you in battle, it's hard to remember the fact that you're human."
"I do fight well." He said, pretending to be thoughtful, although he only managed a sort of detached look.
The situation would have seemed surreal, as the two joked to rid of Denzel's uneasiness, had Tifa not been busy creating light-hearted comebacks.
"Well I wouldn't go that far." She said mildly.
He raised a slender brow. "I don't take well to challenges."
"I was merely stating an observation."
"And I was merely stating a fact on my behalf."
And just like that, the conversation had turned into a ground where both could secretly test the other's limits.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to open up to my charms." Tifa said, leaning one of her elbows onto the table and inspecting her nails casually.
"My dear," Vincent said, "I only told you that because I wanted to…save you from defeat should you ever feel the desire to challenge me."
"Nice try, my Avalanche comrade," Tifa said, mimicking his endearment in a different way, " but I've become quite accomplished at my ability to spot bluffs when I'm presented one."
"Then unfortunately I'd have to inform you that your ability is bit rusty."
"You'd be surprised." She said dismissively, "One can never be too sure."
The word touché hung in the air. Before he could answer, the food arrived. This time accompanied by a different, older waitress. Denzel's confused expression vanished at the sight of his steaming meal, and dug in immediately. Making sure he was busy with his food, she cast Vincent a subtle smile, conveying her gratitude without words. His lips twitched and he turned to his food.
Something in his gaze told her he was not finished. That perhaps they had begun the start of something at that moment.
Tifa picked up her medium sized sandwich, a piece of lettuce dropping off.
It had been a little soon, she supposed. She hadn't thought of what she had really said when she had called him her friend last night. That was why he had thrown her implication back at her. She was disappointed in herself; she was not the type to throw words around for the hell of it.
She bit into her burger, creamy sauce dripping onto the pristine, white plate.
But at the same time, she knew an apology was not needed.
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'til next time…