-1Heya all!

Thanks for the fab reviews everyone ;-D. I must confess to not being totally happy with this part, but never mind. I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Hugs, S xxx

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Full circle…

"You are feeling better?"

Tifa lifted her head from her hand and just looked at him. Those red eyes of his were dazzling, reminding her of luminous rubies. They reflected the mid-morning sun in a way that left her breathless. Vincent Valentine truly was a beautiful man.

A moment or so passed before he received an answering smile. It was small, barely there in fact, but there all the same. "Yeah," she mumbled, "You make a good cup of tea."

"Each person has a purpose," he stated with a forming smile of his own. The sight made hers grow, which in turn, made his get a little bit larger. "I would like to take a shower…"

A wave of guilt swept over the brunette's face. She felt so rude. She'd cleaned herself up somewhat, had a small wash, and he hadn't. "Oh," Tifa exclaimed, "Of course. Sorry for keeping you from freshening up." God, this was awkward beyond words.

Sure she'd seen him naked and probably done things to him, but it didn't mean that this was any less easier. If anything, it made it worse. The thought of Vincent in the shower, standing there naked with hot water trickling down his body was enough to make her cheeks burn a deep red.

Vincent watched with a smirk as the pretty blush crept over her face and wondered what she was thinking. "There is no need for apologies. Am I correct to assume you have not had one either?"

"I've splashed water on my face, but that's about it," she confessed. "I'll just wait until I get back to my room to have a shower." Or maybe three.

"You may have one here if you wish." A smirk flirted on his lips and she had to look away from temptation. "I promise to be good."

The look she gave could've killed. "Har har," Tifa sniped but only had the man chuckling quietly. "If you don't mind, I'd love to have one. I'm all sticky…" Oh hell. Oh holy hell. Now those eyes of his were roaming her figure, the crimson shade seemed to bleed with a sudden flash of lust.

He inhaled deeply and saw the way she locked her thighs tightly together and heard the tiny whimper that escaped her throat. "Tifa," Vincent rasped out, "Refrain from making such inviting comments. Unless you wish for a repeat of last night. Of course, I am more happy to oblige. Do you?"

She thought about it. Standing the hot spray, with his hands roaming her body, washing away sin with care and attention. She thought about lathering up his jet black hair and him doing the same. God, she wanted it. Sadly, she didn't dare take it.

Not with the morning's discoveries. It would be too much.

Vincent schooled his handsome features into a solemn expression. "As I thought. You may go before me. I swear not to peek." He couldn't resist teasing her, not when it brought about such an adorable pink haze to her cheeks.

Tifa glared at him, but that seemed to amuse him all the more. "Thank you," she ground out, mentally damning his teasing. "I won't be long. I'll leave enough hot water."

Honestly that was the last of his worries. The first was sticking to his promise of being good. He already knew what she looked like naked. Knowing she was in the shower, in his shower, soaping her body up with his products… It was more than he could tolerate.

Vincent purposely away from her and focused on the wall. "Go. Take your shower." Before I break my word. "I will place an order for extra towels, and…"

A low growl cut his words off and his attention went straight to the source. Tifa's stomach, which she covered with a hand in a futile attempt to quieten it. A dark eyebrow arched, "And breakfast, if you wish to dine with me?"

Gratitude warred with embarrassment, and again she blushed. "Breakfast would be a good idea, I guess." They were supposed to meet the others for breakfast, but never mind. Given the morning and all it's glory, it was probably better they dined in private. At least until they figured out what they were going to do about certain things. Namely their marriage.

Vincent gave a brief nod. "You would like a simple meal?" Perhaps that would be best, considering the hangover seemed to be mainly focused on the gut.

"A simple meal would be perfect. Scrambled eggs would be great." Tifa paused for thought. "Ooh! And bacon, maybe some sausages and…" She drifted off, coughing and turning her face away to hide her reddening cheeks.

The gunslinger's lips quirked up into an amused, lopsided smile. "It pleases me you have a healthy appetite. Do not be ashamed. Now go, freshen yourself, and I will treat you to breakfast." He saw her mouth open in readiness to object, but he got there first.

"No Tifa. I insist on having this pleasure. Drunken mistake or not, you are my wife and it is my duty to care for you." He breezed past her before she had time to think, his scent washing over her and making her feel warm.

She watched through bemused eyes as Vincent stopped, scratching his head in confusion. "Try the bedside drawer."

He glanced over his shoulder as if to say "I knew that." Tifa just shook her head and chuckled. Men!

Again, she watched as Vincent moved, her gaze filling with admiration as lean muscle rippled beneath his skin. He didn't have an overly muscular build, he was slender, but toned, firm yet soft. Broad shouldered, trim waist, long legs that carried a confident stride, and good hands.

He didn't look strong at all, but he glowed with it. He whispered power, the kind of power that only came with darkness.

Tifa swallowed and forced herself to look away. Simply put, Vincent Valentine was lethal. "Okay!" She stated in a very false, very cheery voice that failed to hide her growing attraction. "Definitely going in the shower now."

She didn't have a chance to move before he spun on his heel and placing an iron grip around her deceptively fragile hand. Jet black hair flopped messily into blood red eyes and pale pink lips curled up into a sensual smirk. "Tifa…"

Without hesitating, Vincent sharply pulled her against him and crushed his mouth down on hers, forcing her pliable lips open. She squeaked in surprise, but that squeak soon turned into a hum of pleasure. She had to hand it to him. He was a remarkably good kisser for someone who'd been locked away in a coffin.

Tifa relaxed into him, threading her arms up and over those broad shoulders, the motion making her sheet drop to the floor in a heap. Vincent gasped when he felt her breasts press against his chest. He deepened the kiss, his eyes fluttered closed and a large hand brushed down to cup her buttocks.

He gave the firm globes a healthy squeeze, she yelped, and he chuckled. The vibrations shuddered through Tifa and she pulled him closer, close enough to feel the arousal between his thighs. Vincent moaned into her mouth, grinding his erection hard against her.

She purred when his tongue took dominance over hers. Yes, the kiss was nice, but stale alcohol breath was another thing entirely. Slowly, so very slowly, he decreased the pressure until they were barely touching.

"Vincent," Tifa sighed, her lips lightly brushing his as she spoke. "Tell me you have a spare toothbrush."

Deep, throaty chuckles shook his body. He pressed a chaste kiss to her swollen lips and let his forehead drop onto hers. "You will find the complimentary toiletries in the cabinet. Take your shower, I will be here."

She cursed the blush that once again coloured her face. She ducked her head, hoping he wouldn't see it. "You won't need to worry about the lack of hot water."

Vincent's laughter followed the brunette into the bathroom and she could still hear it after she closed the door. Sounds of falling water came shortly, and he stood there, simply staring at the smooth wood and imagining her in there, naked and getting wet. If he hadn't given her his word of being good, he didn't doubt he would be in there with her.

As it happened, he did promise to be good, and so he turned away with a sigh, once again going for the phone. Towels and breakfast, he reminded himself as he opened the table drawer, perhaps a flower for Tifa. It had been so long since he'd truly romanced a woman, that he figured there was no harm in spoiling her a little.

Of course they had things to discuss. They had last night and all it's surprises to speak of, then they had to work out what they were going to do about it. Vincent shook away those thoughts for now and concentrated on getting them some nourishment.

"Good morning, Room Service and House Keeping," came the helpful voice, "How may I help you?"

What had Tifa expressed an interest in eating? Ah yes. "Good morning," Vincent returned. "I wish to place an order for two breakfast specials and extra towels, if that is no trouble."

"No trouble, sir. Your room number?"

"132, and if it is at all possible may I request a flow…" A sharp gasp from the other end of the phone stopped the rest of Vincent's romantic request.

"I don't mean to be rude, but are you the couple who got married last night?"

"…Yes? What of it?" He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Tifa was still in the shower and blissfully unaware that half the hotel seemed to know of last night's drunken misdemeanours.

The woman let out an excited "Ooooh!" They rarely got honeymooners nowadays. All these young couples tended to prefer the warmer climates of Kalm and Costa Del Sol."Don't you worry, sir. The hotel has a policy for all newlyweds. They receive a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of champagne, and a Honeymoon Special. On the house. I'll have your order sent up to you as soon as we can, sir."

She hung up before Vincent could say another word and he was left, gaping, at the telephone receiver and cringing at the thought of alcohol. Hmm. Tifa should be nice and calm after her shower, so she should take the news of their popular wedding well. In the meantime, the gunslinger decided to make himself useful and get her clothes ready for her.

There wasn't much worse than stepping out of a hot shower into the cool air.

A few steps was all it took for him to reach his closet and a quick, easy tug was all it took for him to open it. Vincent stared at the garments inside the closet for a moment or two, then numbly shut the door. He blinked once, twice, thrice, and once more opened it to make sure he saw what he did.

Right there, hanging up neatly, was a crisp white wedding dress and a black suit. He had one question and one question only.

Where on the Planet were their clothes?