Chapter 8: Surprise!

With the muffled clunk so common of aged plumbing, Vincent's shower began.

Yuffie took a deep breath to calm herself, and slowly rose from her bed. It was just past a quarter to five in the morning and she'd been waiting for Vincent to wake up for forty-five minutes now.

He was up, showering, and now it was go time.

With stealth only achievable by the best and most highly-trained ninjas, Yuffie soundlessly glided towards the bathroom until she stood at the door. In her one hand she clenched her phone, ready and waiting in camera mode. Hardly even breathing, she waited, tense, for the shower to end.

After what seemed like years, and another series of clunks, it did.

Yuffie stopped breathing completely, focusing her entire being on the sounds behind the door. First came the swish of the curtain being pulled back, and then the barely audible sounds of Vincent stepping out. Closing her eyes, she listened as he slipped on his underwear (Boxers or briefs? Dammit, Yuffie, focus). Moving her hand to the doorknob, she waited for the green light.

In this case, it was the quiet zip of a fly being done up.

She twisted the knob and walked in, phone up in front of her. She didn't dare to look up, waiting until a mini Vincent filled her display before clicking the 'Capture' key.

The shutter noise of the camera announced Mission Successful.

Only then did she allow herself to look at Vincent directly.

He was staring at her, crimson eyes slightly widened with an expression of surprise that was unmistakable, even coming from Vincent. He was barefoot, standing on the tile floor and wearing only a pair of black pants and holding a black shirt in one hand. The rest of him was bare.

It was the 'rest of him' that held Yuffie's attention.

He was lean, just approaching the point of thinness, but his muscles were defined and she couldn't see a trace of fat on him. His pale skin was crossed with dozens of white scars, barely noticeable against his natural pallor. His hair, wet and dripping still, hung down over his face, unrestrained by its usual headband. However, despite the incredibly lovely piece of work that was his body, Yuffie found herself focusing on his left hand.

The gauntlet was off, and below it was a perfectly normal hand, fingers long and slender. She stared, unable to stop herself. She had never seen him without it on before, and for reasons she couldn't explain the revealed hand fascinated her.

Not that she didn't appreciate the rest of him though.

"Yuffie," Vincent said sharply, letting her know that viewing times were at an end and that the display would soon be closing. "Would you mind? What are you doing in here?"

She tore her eyes from his hand and met his gaze, which had narrowed in suspicion and, she gulped, anger.

It suddenly struck her that the sight of his uncovered hand had distracted her so much she had completely forgotten the rest of her plan.

DO SOMETHING YOU IDIOT! screamed her conscious in a voice that sounded remarkably like Cloud.

She snapped her gaze away from him, staring at the ceiling instead.

"I am so sorry, Vinnie, I didn't know you were in here, oh my gawd I'm sorry, the door wasn't locked-"

"Yuffie," he interrupted, sounding rather strangled, "Please get out."

"Right, right, I'm so sorry..." She kept up the stream of apologies as she backed out of the bathroom, not daring to look at him. She shut the door behind her.

She could swear she could still feel him glaring at her through the thick wood of the door.

She let out a long, low sigh of relief, and started to grin to herself as she pocketed her phone. Such a simple plan and it had worked perfectly. Well, except when she had stopped and stared, but, oh well. Still, all it had taken was a phone and a piece of tape.

Her lungs seemed to compress in fear for a moment. The tape. She had forgotten all about the piece of tape that was still over the lock oh fuck ohfuckohfuckityfuck. Vincent was going to murder her. And then murder her again. And then eat her, just for good measure.

Think Yuffs, THINK. She closed her eyes, trying to focus past the knot in her stomach. She had to get that tape back. She stepped closer to the door, squinting to see if maybe the tape had come loose and was sticking out or better yet had fallen off completely.

No such luck, though she hadn't really expected any. She was a master taper of locks, after all.

She leaned forward, putting her eye to the door crack to see if she could see the tape. Maybe she could remove it with tweezers.

Her predicament was temporarily put on hold, however, as the door opened.

Right into her head.

She fell backwards, clutching her forehead and swearing profusely. Mini shirtless Vincents danced around her head in endless circles as she blinked, trying to regain her vision.

For a moment she saw double, then everything righted itself again. Or so it seemed, but there was still a Vincent, albeit with a shirt on –

Wait, no, that was the real Vincent, looking down at her as she blinked at him from where she lay on the floor.

He didn't look terribly happy with her.

She grinned nervously at him. "Hiya, Vince."

He glowered. "Explain yourself."

Gotta get the tape, gotta get the tape...

"Explain what, Vinnie?" she asked, attempting to somehow crabwalk her way around him to get to the door.

"What you were doing in the washroom."

"Well, I really needed to pee, and generally people pee in the washroom, Vince. Look, I had no idea you were in there, really-"

"That noise your phone made..."

She froze. She had hoped that he wouldn't be too familiar with the more intricate working of cell phones.

"What did you do with it?"

"Are you gonna help me up?"

He scowled, but held out a hand. His right hand, she noticed as she grabbed it. Her eyes flickered to his left. The gauntlet was once more in place. The sight of it made her feel inexplicably depressed.

Vincent hauled her to her feet, and she returned her gaze to his eyes. His face was blank once more. She wondered if he had noticed her look.

"Thanks," she grinned lopsidedly at him, rather aware of the distance, or lack thereof, between them, and her hand in his.

He released her as if sensing this and backed away a step. She felt slightly disappointed, but made herself saddle around him and position herself in front of the door.

"What did you do with it?" he asked again.

"With what, my phone? I was just texting Tifa," she replied, not really paying attention as her left hand felt along the doorframe behind her back.

Vincent was frowning again. "My phone doesn't make that noise when I text."

Yuffie shrugged, and had to fight from letting out a whoop of triumph as her fingers brushed against the tape. She removed it, casually returning her hand to her side. "I must have a different model than you."

She suspected Vincent did not believe her, but he let it drop. Instead his eyes travelled to her forehead, where she could feel the beginning of a bump forming. "What were you doing right outside the door?"

"I, er, wanted to apologize to you again."

She gave what she hoped was a sheepish and regretful smile at him. The last thing she needed now was him to think she was trying to spy on him through the door cracks. Because that was so two days ago.

He studied her for a moment, apparently weighing her answer, before stepping forward suddenly. She backed into the bathroom door in surprise, causing it to swing shut and she bumped against it.

He stopped, seeing her reaction, and held up a hand. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he was suppressing a grin.

"I just wish to examine your injury," he reassured her.

She glared at him suspiciously. "You're not gonna shoot me, are you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't need to approach you to do that, now would I."

She blinked, then beamed at him. "Was that a joke, Vince? I can't believe it- "

This time he did smile slightly. She relaxed, confident he was not planning to blow one of her limbs off, but stiffened again almost immediately as he closed the distance between them and raised his right hand to her forehead, brushing her hair away with a feather-light touch so he could better examine her injury.

She felt her whole body heat up and her face flush as his fingers brushed her face. She repressed a shiver, and closed her eyes, trying extremely hard to pretend that he didn't exist.

Needless to say, she failed miserably.

He ran a finger very softly over the lump that had already formed. "Does it hurt?"

No, it feels absolutely wonderful. She opened her eyes, "N-Yes, well, kind of, really Vinnie I'm fine-" she stammered, feeling completely at a loss as she stared at his chest.

"Look at me."

"What?" she asked, feeling ridiculously nervous. Get a hold of yourself, woman. You call yourself a ninja?

"Look at me, Yuffie, you might be concussed," he said in a very commanding tone, tilting her chin up with one hand and peering intently at her. From somewhere he produced a penlight, and shined it in her eyes, flicking it back and forth.

"Vincent, I'm fine, honest." He turned off the light, frowning at her with concern, dropping his hand from underneath her chin.

She found herself missing it enormously.

"Are you sure? It's quite the impressive lump," he stated, still eyeing her with some unease, as if she might suddenly keel over.

"Yes, Vince, and I'm glad that you find it impressive, I was going for that look." She stuck her tongue out at him, trying to shake off the effect of his close proximity.

For a few seconds, there was an awkward silence. Well, awkward for her. Vincent looked completely normal, in that his face was expressionless.

Then:

"Bathroom's free," he stated abruptly, before turning and leaving.

Yuffie's jaw dropped, eyes lingering on the door even after he left as she stood in disbelief. Typical of Vincent to develop at sense of humour at her expense. She shook herself, stumbling into the bathroom, feeling completely dazed by the events of the day.

And it wasn't even 5AM yet.

Tifa did not have the chance to interrogate Cloud until the next day, when Shera went out with Cid early that morning to the airfield to ready the Shera for their departure later that day, leaving the house to Tifa and Cloud.

At the moment, Tifa was sitting at the kitchen table, in the same chair from which she had conversed with Shera the night before. She nibbled on some toast and nursed a coffee as she waited for Cloud to wake, determined to ask after the source of his positive mood. As she waited, she idly wondered if there was any remaining opportunity to get spooned, but she could see none. She had blown her chance by falling asleep in Frelt, and she was rather annoyed with herself over it. She mollified herself with the thought that at least she had gotten a picture of him shirtless.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Cloud wandered down the stairs, yawning sleepily, his blonde spikes flattened down on one side of his head, indicating that he had spent the night sleeping on his side. Tifa tried to stop herself from grinning at the lopsided sight but failed.

Cloud noticed her and smiled back self-consciously at her grin, raising his eyebrows.

"What?"

Tifa gestured to his hair. "Might want to take a look at that," smiling as she sipped her coffee.

Cloud patted the side of his head, realizing the source of her amusement. Laughing softly, he ran his fingers through it, and his hair miraculously sprung up again, arranging itself into its customary spikes.

Tifa stared. "How the hell do you do that?"

Cloud gave her a confused look. "Do what?"

"That," she said, gesturing to his hair again. "You hardly touch it and it goes perfect."

Cloud shrugged. "Just does that."

Tifa felt almost ridiculously jealous. Her hair, while not requiring a great deal of maintenance, did however need copious amounts of brushing each day. She eyed Cloud's hair with narrowed eyes, a look frequently seen on jealous teenage girls.

Cloud laughed at her expression. Tifa shook her head, laughing ruefully at herself. She watched Cloud from behind her coffee as he helped himself to some brightly coloured cereal. She figured that now was a good a time as any to ask him.

"Cloud?"

"Mm?"

"Why are you so, well, don't take this the wrong way, but, why have you been so happy these last few days?"

Cloud frowned at her around a mouthful of something that was probably unhealthily sugary. Chewing loudly, he swallowed, before he asked, "Whadya mean?"

Tifa fidgeted, feeling rather awkward about it. They really didn't have many 'personal feelings' talks, as it brought up questions neither of them were truly comfortable with answering.

"I mean...you've just been in a really good mood the last couple days, and I was wondering, well, why?"

She thought she detected the faintest blush on his cheeks, but it could have been her imagination. Or a reaction to the diabetes-causing cereal.

Cloud shrugged in what was very much a nonchalant manner. "Dunno, really. Maybe it's because the hours haven't been so long the last few days."

Tifa frowned slightly at this, but said nothing, unwilling to press the matter.

"Are you sure?"

Tifa blinked, wondering for a moment who had asked the question before realizing it had been her. She blushed. If she felt so uneasy about the conversation, why the hell had she pushed it?

Cloud stared at her, looking slightly uneasy. "Yeah, I'm sure, I've just...slept well, I guess?"

His tone had taken on a slightly defensive, please-stop-asking tone. Tifa's frown became more pronounced. Why would he be defensive about sleeping well? Intending to find out, she opened her mouth to ask, but was interrupted by the trash can in the corner suddenly bursting into flames.

Cloud yelped, dropping the cereal bowl with a crash as it contents spilled all over his bare feet. Tifa skidded back in the chair, leaping to her feet, feeling completely flabbergasted.

"What did you do?!" she yelled at him, frantically running to assist him as he poured cartons of milk on the flaming can in an attempt to put it out.

"Nothing, I dunno what happened!" he returned, frantically tearing at another carton of milk, this one chocolate. Tifa started filling a bucket with water, anxiously glancing back and forth from the bucket to the flames, mentally urging the water to fill up faster for fuck sake.

After several agonizing seconds, it did fill, and she upended it over the flames, which sputtered out and for the most part died under the deluge. Cloud ran forward, beating out the remaining flames with his hands and a dishtowel.

In under a minute, they had managed to put out the fire. They stood shoulder to shoulder, panting, soot covered, and reeking of burnt trash. Tifa stared at the burnt remains of the garbage can, then looked at Cloud, completely at a loss. Cloud met her gaze a moment later, and she could tell that he was just as confused as she was.

They spent the next two hours cleaning up the kitchen, themselves, and shopping for garbage cans.

"ZACK!" Aerith screeched, hands clenched in rage. "HOW DARE YOU SABOTAGE MY COUPLE!"

Zack crossed his arms, not backing down. "You were cheating again! Trying to get Cloud to admit to spooning Tifa!"

"SO WHAT?" Aerith yelled, practically quivering with rage.

"IT'S CHEATING!" Zack yelled back indignantly.

"AND CAUSING THE GARBAGE TO SPONTANEIOUSLY BURST INTO FLAMES ISN'T?"

Zack opened his mouth, then closed it again, squirming but still looking rather smug. "You got to admit, it was a pretty sweet distraction."

"YOU COULD'VE BURNED THEIR HOUSE DOWN!" Aerith shrieked. Zack winced.

"Tifa and Cloud handled it fine, didn't they? Anyways, don't try to blame this all on me, you're the one who started it."

"Oh don't pretend like you're all innocent," Aerith snapped, the volume in her voice lowered again but her voice dripping with venom. "You inspired Yuffie."

"Yeah, to take a shower, and she came up on the rest with her own. You, on the other hand, made Cloud spoon Tifa and then tried to get him to admit to it because you got her spooned when she was asleep!"

Aerith glowered at him. Zack matched her glare with one of his own. Aerith, unable to deny the words, threw her arms up and turned away with a huff, stalking through the flowers.

"See, I told you," Zack called, feeling immensely satisfied that he had won the argument.

"You can tell the couch when you fall asleep tonight," she shot back without looking at him.

Blinking, Zack frowned, then walked in the other direction, muttering to himself.

A/N: Wow, that was a long one. Hope you enjoyed! This will probably finish up in the next chapter or at the very most the next two chapters.