Summary: Somebody has a very cruel sense of humor when it comes to Christmas gifts... Pity Cloud and Tifa! PITY THEM!
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I don't own the song in its original form. I do, however, own this new version of it!
Queen's Quornor: 100th review gets a oneshot! And as for this chapter...(laughs evilly)
Day Twelve
On the twelfth day of Yuletide, someone evil sent to me...
Tifa bit her lip, watching out the window while she mixed up a martini for a white-collar customer waiting at the bar. It was eight at night, and the expected twelve gifts had yet to show up on their doorstep.
Yuffie was still dangling from the ceiling upstairs. Reno had been banished to Cloud's room so he would not get one ounce of alcohol, and his daughter was keeping him company and occupied. Marlene and Denzel were playing in their own room, and Rude was 'bouncing' tonight. Basically, he was sitting by the door, looking intimidating despite his drunken stupor. The Remnants were hiding upstairs, because Tifa wasn't sure how customers would react if they saw the three silver-haired men. Cloud had escaped to the garage, as Fenrir was in desperate need of a tune-up. The swordsman had finished his deliveries yesterday, but the bike had fallen strangely silent in the middle of the street. He had had to wheel it back to the bar on foot.
That left Tifa to watch for their phantom gift-giver, and her attention was divided between the door and her somewhat demanding customer.
She also found her attention wandering to memories of two nights past, when she and Cloud had been so close to kissing at long last. She had always cared for him, and now she absolutely loved him. Of late, however, she had despaired of him ever returning her feelings. But the look in his eyes when he had caught her, when he had leaned in to her... it told her everything she needed to know.
He loved her too.
But knowing Cloud, he would never come out and tell her of his own volition. He lacked the self-esteem needed to pull it off. If he was ever going to confess his feelings, she had to do it first.
There was a plan forming, but Tifa wasn't sure she had the guts to do it.
The customer finished his martini and slammed the delicate glass down on the bar. Tifa breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the glass had not shattered. "Woman, gimme a Bloody Shinra!" he demanded. "Wi' extra booze in the juice!"
"Coming right up, sir." Tifa turned around and got out the tomato juice and liquor. When she turned around, there was a box sitting on the front stoop, complete with gift wrap and ribbon. She felt her eyes widen - she had never even seen anybody approach the door! - but finished mixing the drink and set it in front of her customer. That done, she slipped out from behind the bar and dashed over to the front door. The box was quickly scooped up and deposited on a nearby table, where unwrapping revealed a plain white box. Puzzled, the martial artist opened the top flap.
Save for a small card, the box was empty.
The card read Yuletide Greetings to my Dearest Friends! I know you are Expecting twelve Gifts, but you will have to be Patient. Your Final Gifts shall Arrive Tommorow, on Yuletide Morning, when you All may enjoy them.
Tifa wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or scream.
...absolutely nothing!