To Know You
Chapter Six: Night Flight
By Darknightdestiny

The night was filled with laughter, long and loud, from those gathered around the table. Tifa watched, smiling to herself and thinking that everything was the way it should be. Yuffie hadn't changed at all; she was still the mischievous pixie she had always been, and she and Cid still fought like children the entire night. It was due to this that the young man Yuffie had brought over eventually wandered off on his own.

The most uncomfortable part of the evening, for her, was having Cloud catch her eye periodically from the other side of the table. He was just as friendly as he'd ever been, but after what had happened on the dance floor, she felt somehow guilty and criticized herself for making a show of it. But when it really came down to it, was there any reason for her to feel badly? After all, Vincent had initiated the dance, no matter what the reason had been, and they were friends.

She realized though, that to the others, Vincent had never really acknowledged a state of friendship to any of them. And even though he had initially let her in, she couldn't help but think she had forced her way into his life unwanted. It truly was that hard for her to believe that Vincent wanted any friends in his life, and yet there they were, and he had made the decision to join them. But she couldn't help doubting the sincerity of his relationship with her. Sometimes she thought that he was allowing her to spend time with him more for her benefit than for his, and that maybe he had returned to ease her fears, because he had known she would miss him.

And Cloud...he had never said anything before, so why should he care?

All of these thoughts battered her brain like a whirlwind each time that Cloud gave her a passive, knowing look, disrupting her attention from the rest of the conversation. Every once in a while, his eyes would flick from her to Vincent, and then back again, signifying that he was reading much more into their display than she would have liked. This caused her to wonder if the others had seen something that she hadn't. Perhaps there was something she had done unconsciously, something she had missed? Though Vincent had resigned himself to the table, she still thought he looked uncomfortable, and she reasoned that even if she had been Vincent, if given the choice to join the rest of the group or subject herself to the possible approach of strangers seeking to praise her performance, she too would have joined the group.

It was true that several people had approached their table that night to comment on the dance Vincent and Tifa had shared. Each time they left, she felt a pang of uncertainty when she looked over at Vincent, whose eyes remained fixed on the table as he continued to listen to Cid, who then resumed telling a story about his earliest days of flight or tea gone bad. After only half an hour, she got the feeling that Vincent was beginning to regret his decision, that he wanted to bolt for the door and never return. And she felt like she was keeping him there.

Cloud had offered Tifa a ride back to her place, but she'd politely refused. He'd left early, saying he had things he had to do, and she had wanted to remain behind with the others for a while longer. One by one they had all gone as well, and she was left with Vincent, the two of them alone at the table.

She'd taken the opportunity to ask him if he was happy he'd returned to the group. The reply she'd received was rather cryptic, but the gist of it was that happiness is what one makes of it, and he certainly wasn't miserable. There was a growing silence that brought discomfort between them, and Tifa longed to bring up a new subject to talk about, but she couldn't think of anything with all the sudden worries that had accumulated in her head that evening. Feeling guilty that he had joined them and the night had ended up being less than eventful for him, the idea came to her that he hadn't yet seen the bar.

And now they ran faster with each step, the water dragging them down and drenching their flesh and bones.

Lightning streaked across the sky, flashing against a dark curtain of water, illuminating the blackness with soft hues of blue, grey and purple. Nearly tripping over each other's feet and splashing small waves up onto each other's legs in the process, both Tifa and Vincent ran through the empty streets of downtown Junon. The trolleys by the pier had stopped making their rounds, and though there were a few people scattering throughout the streets, most everyone else had made it inside.

Vincent stopped under the awning that hung over the entrance to the pier. Tifa continued running, but fell back to his side when she realized the pull of his arm and looked down, seeing that she had his hand gripped in her own. She let go once she had calmed herself and saw him staring out over her into the distance where the rain fell onto the slick, black pavement. She stepped up to him and around to his side where she tugged on his arm. "What are we stopping for?" she asked him.

Vincent's face contorted in amusement. "I do not know which direction to take." Tifa sighed audibly in realization, though the sound of the rain muted it. A smile broke out on her face, and she grabbed his hand again and led him back out into the rain. She felt his wrist tense immediately, but his fingers were slack, lest his involuntary muscle movement force him to grasp her own fingers in return.

"This way!" she shouted over the next wave of thunder.

He followed her around the corner and out into the middle of the street. To his right, the stone seawall came to an abrupt end, and the raging waters seemed to stretch on forever. To his left, a row of shops began where the pier ended. Just ahead there loomed a large, grey apartment complex. Tifa ran on, and he followed; he caught up to her easily.

"Didn't you say you knew where it was?" she shouted over the crashing water.

"...I have heard of it, but I have never attempted the trip myself," he replied hesitantly, remembering her reaction when he told her he had known of her location earlier.

Tifa fell forward suddenly, her shoe having caught on her dress. She'd have removed them, but she couldn't be sure what kinds of things were lying around on the ground outside of the pier. Vincent caught her arm in his right hand, and his left arm reached around her front, catching her by the waist before she pitched into the asphault. She fell into him without much grace, but he held her tightly, despite the initial bumping when her head met his chest quite roughly. As it was, they were both on their knees in the rain, and Tifa's teeth were beginning to chatter.

Vincent felt Tifa begin to shake against him, and he pulled her up and turned her sideways, shifting her into his lap and holding her close. "Where is the bar?" he asked her softly, with an edge to his voice that betrayed his concern. Tifa's arm shot out into the cold, and she waved in the direction of the water.

"It's over there, past my apartment."

Vincent narrowed his eyes at the waves as the blue and green water tossed about violently in the heavy winds. He felt Tifa shudder in the sudden chill. "All I see is water."

Tifa buried her face in his shoulder, her eyes becoming blurry with the water, and her neck cold with the chill. "It's up the coast." Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his coat. "Mmm. I have a car, though." Her hair was wet and tangled, and it stuck to her bare back, adding to her growing discomfort.

Vincent shook his head at the implication. "I will not put you in a car when you are cold and wet." The both of them were soaked through, and it made no sense to travel up the coast and visit the bar. "Where is your apartment?"

Tifa jerked in his grip again. "Fifth floor."

"In the building up ahead?"

She nodded. "Y-yes," she replied in a low voice, stuttering that time as the unrelenting wind attacked her body.

Vincent secured his clawed arm around her back, and he slid his right arm under her knees. Leaning forward slightly, he found the momentum he needed to lift the both of them from the ground. Startled, she wrapped her arms tightly about his neck as he started at a brisk pace towards her apartment complex. The rain continued to beat down on the both of them, and she could almost swear that it was falling harder than before.

"You don't have to do this," she said to him. "I can walk."

"You will fall," he replied simply, as if it was more a fact than a probability.

Tifa opened her mouth to reply, but then thought better of it, knowing that he was probably right; she would never be able to keep up with him anyway. Instead she closed her eyes as they continued onward, content to listen to the steady sound of Vincent's footsteps on the pavement, an almost inaudible knocking of his dress shoes against the ground. Paired with the much louder beating of the rain, which was by then falling in aggressive torrents, it was almost enough to put her to sleep.

The peaceful sound helped to take her mind off of the cold and the discomfort of the dress that was clinging to her legs as the fabric dangled in mid-air. She had just settled into his arms in preparation of resting her head back on his chest when she felt a wave of freezing cold air wash over her, accompanied by the gentle creaking sound of the lobby door. She inhaled sharply as the air nipped at her skin, and she tensed into him.

Her open eyes roamed the inside of the lobby as they passed by the front desk and the karaoke bar. Vincent stopped in front of the elevator. "...Would you do the honors?"

Tifa looked at him questioningly before realizing why he was angled slightly to the left. She reached out and, with a shaky hand, pushed the button. Vincent entered the elevator, and they began their ascent to Tifa's floor.

Tifa looked down lazily at the panelled floor of the elevator, where a small puddle of water was forming. She continued to shiver as she started to get used to the air in the building, and she snuggled closer to him. His muscles tightened as she brushed up against him softly, but he excused her actions because of the circumstances. A heavy silence hung in the air, and since they were no longer in the rain, and there was no danger of tripping on her dress, Tifa idly wondered why she was still in his arms. But he hadn't said anything, and so she let it be.

Not a long while after, there was a muted "ding", and the elevator doors slid open to reveal a beige carpeted hallway. Vincent stepped out onto the plush flooring and readjusted the bundle in his arms.

"What is the number?"

She shifted in his arms. "Five seventy-three."

He walked down the corridor, and was met at the end with a sign that had directions printed on it. He glanced at it and then turned to the left, continuing at his quick pace until he had nearly come to the end of that hall, and there he stopped at her door. He looked down at her until eventually, she met his eyes. He lifted one eyebrow, and she searched his expression for meaning.

"...Oh." Tifa reached down into the small purse she'd kept wedged between herself and Vincent and pulled out her key. He stepped closer to the door, and when she had unlocked it, they went inside. As soon as they had crossed the threshold, Tifa reached for the light and flipped it on, before she missed her chance and Vincent passed it, continuing to wander about without asking where it was. Then again, she couldn't be sure how well he could see in the dark.

The apartment was well furnished and tidy, modern and simple. There was a bone-colored leather couch and a matching recliner; these two surrounded a glass coffee table. The wall the couch faced was outfitted with a mahogany centre, with a flat screened television on the shelf. Right above the television sat the tape, but Vincent ignored this. The kitchen was off to the side, and was set up with a counter separating it from the living room. To each side of the living room setup, there was a sliding glass door that led to a balcony. His sensitive ears picked up the soft humming of a fan.

Vincent surveyed the room, his curiosity growing. It would seem she had been managing quite well on her own, though he knew she would. But even the strongest people sometimes needed help, he thought, as he looked down at her. "Shall I set you down?"

Tifa blushed a little, but then smiled wide, hoping he wouldn't notice. She nodded, and he let her down gently. Her face became a quick fire-engine red as she remembered the way she had slid from his hip back down to the dance floor earlier that night. She took that opportunity to quickly bend over and undo the straps to her heels, letting her long hair fall over her visage so that hopefully, he wouldn't see.

It didn't work.

He noticed the tinge to her cheeks, but said nothing about it. "You should change into some dry clothes," he intoned softly, his mind still on her reaction. Tifa stood when she had finished, nodding while she kept her head down. She consciously folded her arms across her chest, the draft in the room having affected her. Vincent noticed this as well, and it made him a bit uncomfortable, though he couldn't help but be amused by the mannerism in her cover up.

Tifa eventually gathered up the nerve to look at him, but he was eyeing the view from her balcony through the glass. She turned, her arms still crossed over her chest, and walked towards the door leading to her bedroom. Once inside, she was struck with the fear that he'd disappear into thin air once she shut the door. She poked her head out, checking to make sure that he hadn't left.

He was exactly where she had left him, still looking at the choppy sea. "Vincent?" she called out to him from the entrance to her room. He turned to look at her, his expression blank, but his eyes nearly dancing when he saw her face peaking around the door. This she did not catch. "Ah...could you stay for a little while? I'd like to talk with you; you know it's been a while since I've seen you last, and there's still so much we have to catch up on."

He tilted his head and his eyes roamed the surface of the coffee table, unconsciously searching for any flaws in the glass. To her it looked as if he was mulling it over in his head; to him, he had already made his decision, but he was looking for the right words. "I will stay...for a bit."

"Right." Tifa smiled and nodded her head, then shut the door behind her. She quickly stripped herself of her garment and rushed around her room, trying to find something suitable to wear. She didn't want to bother getting out something too nice, because it was after dark and she didn't plan on going anywhere that night, unless Vincent decided he wanted to see the bar. Even then, she had a car waiting in the parking lot downstairs, and they didn't have to get dressed up for a car ride, now did they? The notion came upon her that if she asked him to drop by the bar the next day, saving that activity for later, then she could get him to stay around for a while.

She grabbed a pair of sweats and a tank top before heading towards the bathroom for a hot shower, hurrying because she still had the idea that if she didn't, he might not be waiting for her when she came out.