A/N: Eeehee:) Thank you so much, everyone who reviewed! I greatly appreciate the input, and I'm pleasantly surprised by the warm reception this has gotten. Cookies and much love to you all!

I also apologize for not updating this sooner. Work and final exams leave no free time for me to update. I have been working on this steadily, though. For those who care, Ch. 11 of Volte-face is still being hammered out. Sister and I are working hard on it, I promise. It's just that we brainstormed the first five chapters of this fic all in one night, so it's easy to update. :) Anyway, read, enjoy, and please do review!

Disclaimer: I own a glittery purple pencil. It's almost as cool as Final Fantasy VII, which I do not own, or even come close to owning…but I'd trade Square-Enix my pencil for their game. Heh. :D

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Chapter Two: The Bra Incident—Angel Meets Rude:

Tifa was gone.

The young woman and her newly acquired puppy hadn't been home for more than ten minutes before Angel had reminded her (by pointedly staring at the refrigerator and whining) that there was not a shred of dog food in the building. Of course, being the sweet and animal care-conscious individual that she was, Tifa immediately put her shoes back on and left for the grocery store, cooing promises to Angel that she would be back soon, and not to worry.

So Tifa was gone, and Angel was alone in the otherwise abandoned Seventh Heaven bar that also doubled as Tifa's home.

Not that Angel seemed to mind. She spent several minutes walking leisurely through the building, taking full stock of her newfound home and freedom. Angel seemed especially interested in the photographs of Tifa's friends and acquaintances; the little dog stared at each picture she came across with a solemn, unblinking expression, as if trying to memorize each individual's face.

After half an hour, however, Angel was apparently tired both of exploring and looking at pictures. The white Shih Tzu headed up to Tifa's bedroom, preparing to take the first of many naps on Tifa's bed, when she happened to hear a slight noise outside the window—

—and that's when she saw the familiar individual in the street.

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I am such a loser.

Rude glanced up at the silent, apparently empty Seventh Heaven, wondering how he'd ended up walking past Tifa's workplace—for the millionth time—when he'd intended to go in a completely different direction.

Of course, he knew that somewhere deep down he was hoping she'd be outside, sweeping off the steps or washing the windows. That meant that she'd stop and talk with him for a while, which was as much as he could ask for given her permanent fixation on Cloud. Still, even he knew that his persistent habit of walking past Seventh Heaven was more than a little pathetic.

The most annoying thing was that all of his coworkers had known where he was going to end up, even when he hadn't. From Elena's cheery "Tell Tifa I said hello!" to Reno's mischievous "Yo, this time actually ask her out!", they'd all indicated one way or another that they all knew exactly what he was going to do before he'd even decided it. This is it, Rude told himself silently. I'm tired of waiting around to be noticed. If Tifa thought of me as anything but a friend, I'd know it by now.

A faint whining broke into his thoughts. He glanced up in confusion. That sounds like a puppy, Rude thought. But Tifa doesn't own a dog…

A moment later, an anxious, white, furry face appeared in one of the windows. Or maybe she does, he corrected himself silently. The dog gave him a pleading glance and whined louder, scratching at the window with one small paw.

"I can't go in," he told the puppy. "It would be very impolite and disrespectful, even if the door was unlocked. That's not exactly the impression I was going for."

In response, the dog whined louder, this time giving pained yips as if it was hurt. Its face disappeared from the window; a moment later he heard the scratching sound from the bottom of the front door, as if the dog were waiting just inside for him. The whining and yipping grew louder and more distressed.

"I can't," Rude repeated, but less certainly this time. The dog did sound like it was hurt, and he knew Tifa well enough to be sure she would want him to help her puppy if it was indeed injured…but what if it wasn't hurt? What if it was just spoiled and wanted company? His actions would seem less noble and definitely harder to explain…

The front door suddenly popped open, and the little white dog stumbled its way down the stairs. Rude saw the problem now—it had gotten itself hopelessly entangled in a black bra (Tifa's bra, Rude realized) and could barely walk. The puppy stopped in front of him and whined piteously, giving him a beseeching look to melt even the coldest heart.

"Fine," Rude sighed in defeat, kneeling beside the dog. "But don't expect me to be around to help you out next time." The dog licked his hand in gratitude, wagging its tail as much as it could manage.

Untangling the puppy was a simple matter that only took a few moments. "There," Rude said once the task was finished, patting the dog on the head. "Try not to let this happen again."

Instead of licking his hands again, or even wagging its tail, the dog stared at him with a coldly calculating gaze. If he hadn't known better, he could've sworn that it was smiling. A moment later, the dog turned around and sprinted up the stairs to Seventh Heaven. The door slammed shut behind the dog, seemingly of its own accord.

Rude arched one brow. That was weird, he thought. Then, realizing that he still held Tifa's bra, he decided, I should at least take this inside for her. Tucking the bra under one arm, he walked up to the front door--and found it inexplicably locked.

How did that happen? Rude wondered. The door would've had to have been unlocked for the dog to get out in the first place…

He felt someone's gaze upon him and looked up. The dog was staring at him through the window, still seeming to smile at him. Maybe I should just leave it in the mailbox, Rude decided, pulling the bra out and attempting to tuck it into the back of Tifa's mailbox. In retrospect, the bald Turk had a feeling he should've foreseen what happened next.

The bra, of course, stuck to his hand.

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Elena looked up in surprise as Rude hurried into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it quickly. "Wow, that was fast," she remarked, with approval in her voice. "But where's our dry cleaning?"

"I didn't go to the dry cleaners," he answered in an oddly flat tone.

"What?" Reno demanded, walking through a doorway and giving Rude an accusatory stare. "Don't tell me you got so busy talking to Tifa that you forgot our clothes!" He paused, and his voice dropped to a more serious tone. "Hey—did you finally ask her out?" Reno asked.

"Not exactly," Rude answered cryptically.

Elena drummed her fingers in irritation. "Well, what is it, then?" she demanded. "You're clearly all freaked out over something."

"I, ah…" Rude shrugged helplessly and brought his hand out of his jacket. The offending piece of lingerie still clung to his fingers as if terrified of the ground.

"You stole her underwear?" Reno said in shock, his eyes going wide.

Elena seemed offended. "I'm telling Tseng," she informed him curtly.

"I didn't steal it!" Rude said in his defense. "You see, it all started when I heard this dog inside Tifa's place…" Quickly he filled them in on his brief encounter with the dog. "…and when I tried to stick it in her mailbox, it wouldn't come off my hand," he finished.

Reno's eyes went wider. "Aw, man," he snickered. "This is great! Hang on, let me get my camera!" He rushed out of the room, nearly doubled over with laughter.

"Are you going to help me or not?!" Rude demanded in annoyance.

"Aw, don't be grumpy, Rude," Elena said soothingly. "I'll help you get those panties off." She smirked as she grabbed the free end of the bra and started yanking.

"It's not panties!" Rude snapped. "It's a bra!"

"Oh, sorry. I'll help you get your bra off," Elena grunted, leaning backwards and tugging on the bra with all her might.

"It's not MY bra, Elena!"

"Whatever," Elena answered through gritted teeth as she braced her feet and pulled harder on the stubborn bra. "You know, I think you've talked more today than you have for every other day, combined, since I started working with you? Did anyone ever tell you that you have really nice teeth?"

Rude's eyes narrowed. "That's it," he informed Elena, yanking her hand free. "I think I'd rather handle this myself, instead of putting up with your kind of 'help'."

"Ow!" Elena pulled her hand away and glared at Rude. "Geez, you don't have to be so grumpy."

Reno ran back into the room, clutching a digital camera in one hand. "Is it still stuck on?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm glad you find this so funny," Rude said dryly, sinking into a chair and resting his head in his hands. "Remind me to never help you guys again when you're in a tough spot."

Reno's grin faded. "Hey, I'm sorry, partner," he said more gently. "Don't worry. We'll figure something out. Who knows? You might even start a trend!" the redheaded Turk added, trying to cheer up his friend. "Elena, which drawer are your bras in again?"

"Why don't you just super glue one of your bras to your own hand and save yourself the trouble, Reno?" Elena retorted, giving an exaggerated scowl.

Rude lifted his head and smiled faintly. "I'm sorry for being so short-tempered," he replied. "I guess I might've panicked. A little."

Elena and Reno didn't reply. They were too busy staring at him with identical expressions of horror. "Rude, man..." Reno said at last, his mouth twitching as he tried to hold back a laugh. "Your head..."

Rude reached up gingerly. "What about my–" The bald Turk stopped mid-sentence as he felt what his coworkers had seen. The bra was no longer mysteriously attached by one end to his hand...instead, it had transferred itself to his temple.

"You're kidding me!" he exclaimed in exasperation, grabbing the free end of the seemingly possessed bra and giving it a few sharp tugs.

"I'm going to go call Tseng," Elena said, biting her lips to hold back a grin. "This is more serious than we thought."

Reno watched his coworker leave the room skeptically. "Do you think she gets Tseng's permission to go to the bathroom, too?" he asked, bemused.

"Reno," Rude interrupted. "Right now we have bigger problems than Elena's crush."

"What? Oh, right." Reno grabbed a conveniently placed pair of scissors and started trying to cut the offending item of lingerie. "Man, this stuff is made from steel cable," he complained as his scissors clicked futilely on the bra. "But hey, at least it can't get any worse now, right?"

"Wanna bet?" Elena asked as she darted back into the room, looking panicked.

"What could be worse than Tifa's bra being stuck to my temple?" Rude asked, frowning.

Elena folded her arms. "How about Tifa standing at the door right now?"

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Chapter Three Preview: (The Bra Incident, Part Two--Tifa Gets Her Bra Back)
Yes, Tifa's lingerie is returned to her...but is Rude's head still attached when she gets it? Look for the (hopefully, much funnier) update in a few days!

(And I promise it'll be in a few days, because it's already typed and beta'd. This chapter was just getting too long...and I want reviews, I admit it, even though I don't deserve them for being gone so long. Humor me anyway? I'll humor you back! Wait, that didn't sound right... Oo

Please review :)