Domestic Bliss

"Don't close your eyes/ this is your life/ and today is all you got now/ and today is all you'd ever have"
–This is Your Life, Switchfoot

Vincent stood on the doorstep to Seventh Heaven, staring up at the gold–leaf sign. The curtains on the door were pulled shut, although it was late enough for Tifa to be open. Vincent hesitated before reaching for the elegant, curved handle. He felt neglectful, somehow, and responsible for the gloomy air that was so strong he could feel it outside his friend's bar door. I hope everything is all right. Maybe I should have called Cloud back. But no, he'd been too caught up in his pursuit, and now he feared the family he'd left behind had, indeed, fallen apart in his few weeks' absence. I honestly thought Cloud would be able to keep it together. What possibly could have happened? And with that sense of foreboding he'd come to know so well, he opened the door and stepped inside.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed there were few customers, despite it being the cocktail hour on a Saturday evening. Tifa stood behind the bar, idly wiping down one spot over and over, her eyes unfocused. When she heard the door's chime, she glanced up, recognizing Vincent and dropping the rag. She hurried to the end of the counter top. "Vincent! Why didn't you tell us you were back!" He met her halfway across the bar, and she stopped in front of him. "Is everything all right?" Her eyes widened at the grim look on his face.

He made his way to a stool, leaning into the counter. "Just ran into a few troublesome spots." She returned to her position behind the bar, pouring him a glass of his favorite red wine. He explained all that had gone on to her, leaving out his glaring doubts and the visit from Yuffie. "Now, I convince Shin–Ra to help me." He ran one fingertip around the rim of the wineglass, making it hum.

Tifa looked over his shoulder, out the windows facing the street. "So Shera went into labor? So early…" She drew her eyebrows together, face taking on its familiar, concerned expression. "I wonder why Cid didn't call."

Vincent smiled into the collar of his cloak. "He was quite… frenetic. I'm sure we'll hear from him as soon as the child is born." He raised his gaze, and noticed the pearl pendant nestled between her collarbones. He nodded toward it. "Gift?"

She raised a hand to her throat, as if she'd forgotten it was there. "Cloud…" She trailed off, eyes glued to the countertop in, Vincent guessed, shame. He studied her, setting aside his own troubles for a moment. He'd never seen the normally bright, vibrant woman look so… lost, not even when Cloud had been poisoned, not when she'd began to lose hope for his recovery.

Before he could open his mouth to inquire about her troubles, the door banged open, Marlene and Denzel bursting through, and Vincent was surprised to see they were followed by an exhausted Barret. He stopped inside the doorway, giving the gunslinger a piercing glare he couldn't quite interpret. Alarm shot through Vincent. He had the utmost respect for the larger man, despite their opposite personalities, and could not image what had earned him ire. Marlene also stopped in the doorway, before breaking into excited glee and running full–force toward him. He slid off the stool, dropping to a knee, and she threw herself into his arms. He wrapped the cloak around her, and she snuggled her face into his chest, small hands clutching at his sides.

Vincent held Marlene for a minute, forgetting everything around him as he breathed in the smell from her hair. She was the lifeline to his remaining humanity, and he had missed her, more than he'd comprehended. He gazed down on the top of her head, her arms straining to hold him closer, and he wondered if this clinging was due to whatever had been upsetting the whole household. Judging by the expression on Barret's rugged face upon seeing Vincent, he guessed it had not gotten any better by his unannounced presence.

Marlene pulled back, top of her hair ruffled from his cloak, pink ribbon askew, cloak still draped over her shoulders. "I'm so glad you're back, Vincent. Did you save her?" Marlene glanced around the bar, as if someone would appear.

He pulled his collar down with his clawed hand carefully, so she could see his smile. "Not yet."

She gave him a resolute nod, and noticed her stuffed doll in one of the inner pockets. "Moogle!" She exclaimed. "You did keep him!"

Vincent dropped his arm off her shoulders, pulling out the toy. "Of course, I did. He's a little dirty, but none the worse for wear." She clutched it to her, smiling up at him.

Barret's deep voice broke the moment. "Marlene. Why don't you take Moogle and Choco and go play in the living room?" Marlene turned to protest, but Barret cut off her response. "Now, Marlene." She pouted before giving Vincent another smile, picking up Choco, who, Vincent noticed, now sported a red ribbon tied across his forehead and trailing down his back, from where she'd dropped him on the floor. She darted off toward the living room, and Denzel followed her. Vincent gave him a nod and a smile, and Denzel's mouth curved slightly, obviously concerned with something else.

Barret crossed the room as Vincent stood, sliding back onto the barstool. Barret claimed the one beside him, and Tifa poured him a straight, double whiskey, setting it in front of him. Barret, never suave and always an unassailable presence, took it before telling Tifa, "Thanks, darlin'. Now go make sure them two aren't getting into any trouble for the next few minutes."

Tifa gave him a pointed look, but trailed after the children, not questioning Barret. Vincent picked up his wineglass, holding it just under his nose, watching the other man from the corner of his eye. Barret could never be considered a jovial person, but this ominous mood was unlike him. So Vincent waited, taking a sip of his wine. He swirled it, watching the light play off the glass, hinting at the deeper colors of the drink.

Finally, Barret gave a huff and slammed half the whiskey at a gulp, before turning to Vincent. "You left her a total wreck." Vincent's eyebrows quirked. Who was he referring to? "Never thought I'd see that damned annoying ninja fall apart like that."

Vincent started, hold on his wineglass tightening. Yuffie?

Barret, familiar with Vincent's silences, went on. "She stayed in Corel, waiting for you to show up at that cavern. The only place she knew you'd eventually turn up, 'specially after I told her what your gloomy ass was up to." He gave Vincent a sidelong glance. "I don't mean to make you feel guilty or nuthin', but she's real beat up over you. I told her you're doin' what ya need to, and she was still upset when I left." He took another swallow from his glass. "She probably won't be there when I get back."

Vincent studied his glass once more. "Thank you. I will amend things with her, as soon as I get the chance."

Barret stood with a grunt, downing the last of his whiskey, setting the glass back on the counter. "If I gotta give you anything, Vincent, you certainly take care of your shit." He pounded Vincent on the back once, before turning toward the entrance to the house. "Unlike that goddamned Spikehead…"

Vincent leaned on his elbows, considering. Things had become a mess in a short time. Should he attempt to help Tifa and Cloud? He shook his head. It was time they learned to work out their problems between them. He just didn't want to see Marlene and Denzel caught between, although Barret's visit would surely distract them. Barret seemed to be bothered by his own troubles, as well, and Marlene had obviously picked up on that. I will simply watch out for the children. They have done nothing to deserve this unrest. Yet he dreaded the outcome of so much distress.

He took his time finishing his wine.

Tifa was in the kitchen making herself a cup of tea when Denzel came in. He sat down at the table, watching her, and she reached for an extra mug even while asking him, "Hot chocolate?" He nodded, leaning on one hand. She turned her back to him, measuring the cocoa powder into the mug, the kettle on the stove starting to steam, listening to the clink of the spoon against the ceramic.

"Tifa?"

She half–turned to look at him, one eye watching for the kettle to start whistling. "Mmm–hmm?"

"Do you love Cloud?" She paused in reaching for the kettle, before setting it on a different burner. She turned to look at him fully, still leaning on his hand, feet kicking at the legs of the chair. He was dressed in baggy cargo shorts and a t–shirt, and he'd taken to wearing heavy boots, just like Cloud. His blue eyes gleamed up at her, and with the cowlick at his forehead, hair fanned out in all directions, she realized just how much he looked like Cloud had when he was younger. Back before all this mess. Back when he was just Cloud, no clone, no mako, and I was just Tifa, before death and sadness and this… indecision. God, she missed that Cloud. He'd just wanted to impress her, by joining SOLDIER, and instead had been ruined by Sephiroth and Hojo and his own self–doubt. When had she started to let that doubt plague her as well?

"Tifa?" She snapped back to reality, and Denzel was just Denzel, now. "The water'll get cold."

"Right." She turned back to the stove, flicking open the cover on the spout. She poured the water over her teabag to let it steep before mixing Denzel's hot chocolate, bringing both mugs to the table. "That's a complicated question, Denzel."

He wrapped his hands around the mug. Those hands, Tifa knew, would soon start to become more of a man's than a child's. "I don't think so." Denzel looked up at her, his eyes burning. "You love me and Marlene, right?" She nodded slowly. "And Marlene and I love you and Cloud. We're a family, right?"

She sighed, wanting to change the topic. "Denzel…"

He blazed on. "And Vincent and Barret and Shelke help make up that family, too, right? All the others? So we're not lonely, even though so many people we love have died." He gripped the mug, hard enough Tifa was alarmed. He shot his eyes up to her, hooded under his eyebrows, and Tifa could see the faint bags under them. Oh, god, so much like Cloud. "Then why are you and Cloud still lonely, without each other?"

She just stared at him, completely at a loss for words.

Vincent eventually wandered into the living room, where Barret sat with Marlene glued to his side, watching TV. He stood in the doorway, and Marlene looked across the room at him, hopeful expression on her face, and he smiled to himself. Barret grunted, waving a hand at him when he blocked the screen, but Vincent was on the other side quick enough that the larger man didn't resort to throwing something at him. He sat next to Marlene, tucking one ankle under a knee, and she gave him her big smile, pivoting against Barret to stick her feet into Vincent's lap. Vincent crossed his arms as she returned her attention to the television, settling herself further into the couch. He gave small snort in mock–indignation at being used as a footrest, but she ignored him, confident in the knowledge that she had every male in the house wrapped around one of her small fingers. Vincent sat back in comfort nonetheless. I'll call Shin–Ra tomorrow.

Cloud banged the side door shut. Gods, what a long day. He was surprised to see Tifa and Denzel at the kitchen table, both looking at him as if he'd just been asked a question and hadn't been paying attention. He opened his mouth to greet them, but the phone began to ring, cutting off any words that might have left his mouth. He reached toward the kitchen counter, picking up the cordless handset, continuing to watch the pair at the table. All right, I know I'm late. "Hello?"

"Cloud! Who's all there?" Cid boomed on the other side.

"Uh… Tifa and Denzel," Taken aback, he crossed to the archway to the living room, hearing the TV, and was stunned to see the trio sitting there. When did my house become a damned hotel? He waved to his fellow males, and Marlene peeked her head from between them, looking like a baby bird poking its head out from the nest. "And Barret, Marlene, and Vincent, too. Why?"

"Get 'em all together and put me on speakerphone!"

Tifa and Denzel had wandered up behind him, and he motioned them in front of him with the hand not holding the phone. Vincent, seeing Cloud's puzzled face, clicked the "off" button on the remote.

Cloud shook his head, hitting the button for speakerphone and holding the handset out in front of him. "You're on, Cid."

"Guess what, guys! I'm a daddy!" Cid let out a whoop of joy. "And it's a fuckin' boy!"

Oh, gods…