~A long wait, I know, but I hope it's worth it. Sorry it's short.
I, for a man of my size, handled liquor incredibly well, but in my defence, anyone who drank as much as I had on the night of Vincent's return would not be handling it well.
In the morning I laughed at myself. I laughed at the fact that I had actually passed out on Tifa's couch, laughed at the reason why I had consumed so much alcohol in the first place, and then laughed at the pathetically disgusting jealous coveting bitter fool I had become because of it all.
As my eyes groggily peered open to see the ceiling of Tifa's living room, I searched around in the recesses of my brain for a detailed recollection of what had occurred the previous evening. The last thing I could recall was talking to Cid and Tifa at the bar for quite some time, and handing Tifa my keys in exchange for what would accumulate to be at least half a dozen beers.
After that though... things got hazy.
I sat up, regretfully massaging my temples. God it was bright in there. When I mustered the courage to reopen my eyes, I was startled to see Cloud standing in front of me with his arms folded across his chest and an annoyed look on his face.
"You sober?" he asked.
An odd question, but I nodded.
"Good."
And then, folks, I was promptly punched in the shoulder. By Cloud. Who is supremely strong.
"What the hell!?" I cried; clutching what at the time felt like a dislocated arm.
"Keep it down, people are sleeping," he muttered, manoeuvring around the coffee table to sit down on the arm of the sofa that I had made my bed last night.
"You told me things last night," he said, a pained expression on his face. "Things that you probably would not have told me if you had been sober."
My eyes widened, and I wondered how many of my fetishes he was now aware of.
"Listen man. Yuffie's my friend..."
Oh. Just that one.
"And so are you."
OH SHIT, THAT ONE.
"I don't want to see anybody get hurt, but I also do not want to be in the middle of this. So just because I was unfortunate enough to walk past you when the tequila got you, it does not mean that I want to be the messenger boy."
Ironic, considering his chosen profession.
"I understand, Cloud. I can't remember anything from last night, but I assure you I haven't the slightest sober intention of acting on any feelings I may have for Yuffie."
It didn't completely remove the unease from his face, but it certainly helped to ease some of his discomfort.
"You still look concerned," I pointed out.
"I am still concerned. You're only part of the problem."
Now I was concerned. "What happened last night?"
"Well, Yuffie left."
My eyes widened. "Why? Was it Vincent?"
"Well, I think so."
"What did he do? Is he upstairs? Did you punch him as hard as you punched me?"
"He's gone too."
"Gone?"
"He left with Yuffie."
This opened up a fear in me I hadn't thought was actually possible. "Well, where did they go?"
"No one knows."
I stood up from the couch entirely too quickly for a man who had passed out drunk on the very same couch the night before. Before I knew it, Cloud was standing too, and his hand was planted firmly on my shoulder to keep me upright. "Reeve, you just told me you weren't going to make this complicated."
My hazy eyes focussed first on the carpet and then shifted to his face. "I said I wasn't going to act on my feelings for Yuffie, Cloud, not leave her wandering alone in Midgar."
Cloud didn't have to say anything for me to know I was acting ridiculous.
"Go upstairs and go back to sleep, Reeve. You can't hold your liquor as well as a twenty-year-old anymore."
I sighed. I didn't hold my liquor as well as a thirty-year-old anymore either.
"Besides," he continued. "She's with Vincent, and he will take care of her."
"Of course." I believed it too. They were close friends, and even if Yuffie was upset over him leaving her for so long, he would still go to great lengths to make sure she stayed safe. "I should really go home, Cloud. Thanks for the couch," I said.
He chuckled. "Anytime, Reeve."
I don't remember much about the next few weeks. I spent a lot of time working; anything to distract me. I gave Yuffie and Vincent a lot of time off, despite my need of both of them to get things off the ground and running smoothly again, but I didn't want to look at either of them.
But no one can avoid rumours.
"I heard they went to Nibleheim together, on their vacation time."
"Who?" I asked absent-mindedly as I flipped through my mail. Pamille and another female employee (whose name I embarrassingly couldn't recall) looked up at me.
"Yuffie and Mr. Valentine," they stated at once, looking at me as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Of course, it was the most obvious thing in the world, but I hadn't expected to hear it from the likes of them. I discovered after a day or two after Vincent's return that the two of them had taken off back to Nibelheim to say a final farewell to the ShinRa Mansion's basement and to pay Lucrecia a final visit.
"Do you think they're an item?"
"Gosh, how could they not be? Did you see the way Yuffie was mooning over him around here after he disappeared?"
"Can you blame her?"
I grunted and turned to leave, but not soon enough to avoid hearing my secretary admit she would also like a piece of Vincent for herself.
Well, there goes your backup plan, Reeve.
The WRO was very lucky that they had a neurotic workaholic for a commissioner. Every time my mind landed on Yuffie, I picked up a pen and some paperwork and sat down and forced myself to do it. Work was more important. Work was changing the world for the better, not causing grief for myself and my friends. Work was not painful to think about. Work was not an enigmatic ninja with killer legs. Work was not a smile that could change my day from bad to good.
I spent a lot of time with Tifa, because where Tifa was, alcohol was.
"You don't look good, Reeve."
I waved her concern away with a dismissive flick of my wrist. "Just tired is all. I've been working hard these last few weeks. Lots of things to do; developing new procedure, new policies, new systems… It's been a good year for change."
"For all of us, it seems," she replied with a smile.
She meant well, with those words, even though they struck me hard in the heart.
"Yes, it would seem so," I croaked. I wanted more of that whiskey she had clutched in her hand, and I gestured that she should appease me.
"I heard from them the other day," she said by way of conversation, as though I was interested in hearing about their fortune. "They sound like they are quite content."
"Content?" I echoed. What an ambiguous word. I was content when Tifa poured me another tumbler of whiskey, but my insides were in shreds.
"Yuffie tells me that they are coming home soon."
"Home?"
"To Edge, I mean."
I wondered vaguely if they would be returning to work at the WRO, and I wondered vaguely how far away I could send them again.
"How… how did she sound?" I asked, hesitantly.
"Oh, I don't know." She didn't look at me when she answered; she kept her eyes on counter she was scrubbing. "Happy."
"Are they…" I had to know if it was official. Did Vincent feel the same? Were they together? Were they happy? I needed the closure like I needed the alcohol.
"No. Well I mean… I don't know." She looked upset the next time she glanced up at me. Her regular smile was replaced with a lopsided frown. "Reeve, Cloud told me."
When had I finished that third whiskey? Why was she hurriedly pouring me a fourth? Had I already given her my keys? How was I getting home? Why was she holding my hand, and what was that she was saying?
"I haven't said anything to Yuffie, Reeve, but I think that you should."
"Tifa." I found my voice was firm and unwavering, much to my surprise. "This is not something I want to talk about."
"I know but—"
I smiled sardonically and shook my head. "No, Tifa. You don't know." My fingers squeezed hers, and I made to get up, but the martial artist's grip on my hand grew tighter, and I was compelled to stay,
"Reeve, I have been love with Cloud for ten years."
I had known, but to hear her say it and to do the math mentally as I sat with her there in Seventh Heaven, I wondered if maybe she knew a little better than I had accused her of.
"Well, is it worth the wait?"
"Of course…" There was hesitancy, there was doubt.
I knew the look in her eye. One that spoke of the years of uncertainty she had suffered when she had been unsure if a future with Cloud was ever a possibility; of the tears she had shed when a certain flower girl (her sister, oh Aeris, you don't know what you're doing to me) was as close to him as she needed to be, and held onto his heart even after she was taken from them.
Yet there she was; after ten years of patiently waiting for him to realize she was everything he had ever wanted and needed, she finally had him.
"How did you do it?" I gasped desperately. My head landed in the cradle created by my arm on the bar top, my opposite hand still caught up in the barmaid's.
I felt her kiss on the top of my head, soft and affectionate like a mother's. She had no words, because there is never anything anyone can say when you've fallen for the wrong person, and your life is a decaying, mangled mess of 'what ifs'. I couldn't blame her; I just clung to that hand, because if she ever let go, I might have too.
~Let me know what you thought.
Love, Lynn.
