He'd been trying to place her somewhere. Anywhere.
Veld couldn't help it, it was natural. People had places in his life, and he didn't have one for Tifa. It had been a couple weeks now since they'd talked about anything probing, and he'd used the last of the whiskey to make food. He knew alcohol wasn't a truth serum, but it always relaxed him just a little too much.
Maybe there was a bit of guilt for pretending as if he didn't know who she was. Then again, she'd only figured out what he did, not who he was. That was a completely different thing.
He decided to think about where he put everyone else. It was good to clean the cobwebs of his brain sometimes.
It was good timing really, as Tifa was in the corner attempting to breathe a little life into a child's toy piano. It was a kind of familiar thing, watching a woman try to fix an instrument, but she didn't have the place Lara did. He didn't even like the place he'd put Lara anyway.
Veld was delegated to sorting through a box of spare parts because they'd already had a few customers that day. There had been a woman that bought a parasol for her daughter and a man that had considered some jewelry for his girlfriend, but declined. A teenage girl had run rampant for a while, trying on hats and departed with the record player that was falling apart.
They were friends now, of a kind. So of course she didn't fit in Lara's place. He'd always been formal with his wife, and maybe that was why she'd left him. Marrying a musician had been something he thought would help him to forget things, when it only served to remind him. He'd restrung the cello that rested against the wall himself, but he didn't want to play it.
She'd gotten a few notes to work. Veld should have figured Tifa understood a piano. That wasn't something in her file.
Tally was too mythical for her. Even if Veld had learned that Tally could bleed or look imperfect or make mistakes he still held her in a high place. Maybe even a more personal place than Lara, but that was how family went. He thought that maybe Tally thought of him as family too, even if it was an unusual thing.
And he'd learned better than to find another Tally. Besides, Tally was tone deaf.
"How's it coming along?"
"It just had a little water damage. I'm surprised you managed to have all the tools I needed."
"Even Turks had hobbies. Besides, I knew someone that worked in an instrument shop."
"You're just full of all sorts of useful skills and talents, aren't you?"
He'd never met a woman, besides maybe her daughter, that could match Ifalna's piercing clarity. Not about herself, but about other people. She was a frighteningly complicated woman, and her place wasn't even completely defined. Veld thought that if things were different, he would have made a bigger place for her.
When she died, there was a heavy feeling. Because he realized she might have known a lot about people, but she barely knew anything about herself. He wished Gast had been a stronger man.
"Adaptability is a trait that anyone can use."
"So what kind did you play?"
"Pardon?"
"Which instrument did you play. Mine was piano, but that was more for my parents than anything."
No, Tifa didn't need a place like that.
"Cello."
"Sounds a little stuffy, even for you."
"I suppose I could pick up a different kind of string instrument."
He was spinning a few numbers in his head, then, and an interesting bit of information occurred to him. Felicia was a few years older than Tifa. Veld suspected that Tifa would be surprised to learn that his daughter, perhaps the one thing he'd most managed to mess up, was quite alive and well. He also didn't have the slightest clue where she was.
And even though he wished he'd had more time to have been a parent, Tifa would make a poor daughter, at least for him. Even if Felicia hated him and wished all sorts of death upon him, she was his daughter. She didn't look or act like Lara at all. As if the woman was a complete figment of his imagination.
"Guitars are pretty easy to pick up, I hear."
"And they're loud and used by adolescents wearing too tight of pants."
He'd never heard a laugh like Tifa's before he'd met her. That was strange, really, that she should be quite so unique, but so unnoticeable up until now. "I meant an acoustic."
"That's not a bad idea, actually."
Valentine... no.
"Soon as I'm finished up here we should try it out. And another to your long list of skills, you know, for your resume."
Veld chuckled. "Maybe tomorrow. I have an appointment tonight."
"Well, I'll just raid your library again."
"Feel free to"
All that thinking had gone to waste. He didn't have a place for Tifa.
ooo
She was bored. Tifa wasn't the type that couldn't entertain herself, but sometimes she needed to go do something. Most of her organization was done, and she was feeling slightly restless. This was Costa, after all, finding something to do shouldn't have been hard.
Tifa was still a little surprised she'd ended up here, even if it was just for now. She'd only visited it twice beforehand, after the adventure. The first time had been with Yuffie, and the second time, that time she met Veld, she had been signing over the villa they all owned.
Bringing that memory box had been an afterthought, really. It seemed to fit with selling the villa, because letting go of one thing meant letting go of other things. Right?
She hadn't seen the box, so it must have been sold. Her sad little memories. Tifa had to wonder who bought it, and what they thought of the junk inside.
If she sat around by herself any longer, she was going to lose her mind. So she decided to go out.
It was an almost immediate decision followed by an immediate action, but then she looked down at herself. Tan skirt and a white tank top slightly smudged with dirt. If she was going to go out and actually enjoy it, she might as well go to a bit of effort.
Tifa supposed that it would be alright if she borrowed it, so long as she washed it later. It wasn't like a new dress or anything, someone had already worn it. And she had been wondering about how it would look on her for a while now.
They didn't make dresses like this anymore. It wrapped and it clung in the right spots and as soon as she got a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she knew that she was going to keep it. Even if the flowers were red and she'd always felt much more comfortable in neutrals. A woman had to look nice once in a while.
Her hair felt a little too short again, but she'd cut it for practicality. Still, she missed having that curtain at the back of her neck. Tifa had to borrow shoes from one of the bins too, as she didn't own any that went with the dress.
A bit much effort for a woman going out by herself, but it felt good. She had to wonder if when Veld got back from his appointment they'd run into each other. He was probably used to women in dresses like this, though. It wasn't too much before his time, and she suspected that there were a lot of women that went to a bit of effort for him.
The air was cool.
Not cold like most nights in Edge were, which was probably what she liked about this climate. It certainly wasn't the sun, which made her runs that much more difficult. She thought that maybe she should start running at night. Her mind wandered.
Maybe like a lot of things that happened lately, she wandered aimlessly to it. The man's voice was kind of hoarse, but that wasn't the only sound. Whoever was playing the guitar had quick fingers, and an energy that she'd missed. A lot of musicians these days tried very hard to be energetic, but came off as fake.
Everyone was moving on, getting over it.
As she got closer to the whole in the wall sort of place, she realized despite the energetic guitar, the voice wasn't singing a happy song. And that fit. A young man gave her a smile as she passed, but she ignored it. Tifa was entranced.
His voice wasn't so hoarse sounding anymore, it must have been the acoustics. It was more... well, she didn't have a word for it.
She could see him from the entrance of the place, and he was someone that looked around her age. That explained the words, which she was picking up more of as she stood there. Tifa didn't know if it was a good thing to understand them, maybe it was a little sad.
"Under the mother eyes of the Costan sky... she was happy and it shows in the sun..."
Naturally, her eyes would wander from the scruffy man with the guitar. She should have known.
Some men stood out, as if something prevented them from fading into the background. Seeing Veld sitting at a table by himself, with what she could only guess was a virgin strawberry daiquiri resting next to his hand, she realized he was one of those. It was unfair, in a way, that she should keep running into him whenever she did something spontaneous. When she wanted to just drift, she kept getting caught up in him.
Tifa had known a lot of liars. The worst kind too, because they didn't know they were lying. The kind that lied to themselves enough that it became truth. He'd lied about his appointment not because he'd meant to do harm, but because he simply didn't know how not to.
She wanted to shake him or... well. She had horrible luck with men.
"Now there's something missing... when you're kissing me..."
At least she'd learned not to slink off and just let them go off and do whatever it was that they did. No, if they were going to sit there like that, completely engrossed in beautiful music, she was going to interrupt it. Tifa had to. She didn't know why.
Of course he heard her approach.
"Interesting appointment."
"So you caught me."
"I wouldn't have thought badly of you."
"I do believe I own that dress."
"I'll buy it from you."
"No need, you look lovely."
His kind were the dangerous kind. Because even if they were liars, they did it well enough that you cold believe what they were saying. It worked because even if he was trying to change the subject, she liked to believe he was honest. It had been a while since she'd felt pretty.
"Why did you lie?"
"Sometimes old men need to sit alone for a while."
Maybe she'd gotten a little too comfortable. Tifa was sure he wasn't the wandering type, he would stay put if she asked. It wasn't, well, that kind of relationship that they had but it was comfortable. Then again, she was ignoring the fact that he probably had some interesting skeletons in his closet.
"I don't want to sit alone. So I'm going to sit with you. Do you know the singer?"
He shook his head. Yes, the drink was nonalcoholic, she would have smelled the tang by now. That was good at least. He wasn't the type to drink alone.
"Now there is an ocean of time... between your life and mine.
No, it was an innocent lie. She'd seen the look on his face when he didn't know that she was there. Why were people always so lost these days? The world hadn't ended. She knew it, she'd fought for it. Anyone her age or older was so...
"Why are you still wearing that damn ribbon?"
"She's our strength, Reno."
"I knew her too, you know. Can't just turn a person, a very real girl, into a symbol."
Tifa resolved then, that when she got the chance, she would break into his filing cabinet. Even if it wasn't her business, really. Because someone needed to know, and she was all there was here.
"Veld?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you like this music too?"
"It's very real."
Maybe Shera was really on to something.
"When you said you loved me... I thought you loved me."
ooo
She was watching him like a hawk.
He hadn't known what to say about it, really. He'd overheard that some musician that didn't spew the crap that most people these days listened to was in town, and he was feeling strange. A little stretched out. Veld had been watching her a little too closely, and she didn't have a place. That didn't work in his world.
She had looked quite pretty in that dress, though.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh are you?"
He had to wonder why it bothered her so much.
"Tifa, if you want to come along next time I feel like hiding in public, you're welcome to."
It wasn't like they were dating. Honestly, what was he so worried about? Veld felt as if he was in the doghouse. It wasn't her place to make him feel like that.
"Do you lie a lot?"
So that was really the issue here. Tifa didn't even know the half of it.
"Old habit, I will try to curb it for your benefit."
She bit her lip but went back to varnishing the dulcimer she'd been working on. It was warm again, because they'd had to open the windows due to the varnish. It was Sunday, as well, and they were never exactly open on Sundays. Veld didn't know why he kept that little tradition. It wasn't as if he believed in God anymore.
Though he did want to.
The silence was annoying him. Veld was used to a little conversation. Sure, it had only been months instead of years, but what was the difference? Time was time, and he didn't have as much of it as he used to. Months meant as much as years, and days as much as weeks.
"Have you ever considered anything other than piano?" He spoke, so that she could. She was the only person around, after all.
Tifa smirked, something that he wasn't accustomed to seeing. "Well, what else has keys on it?"
"Accordion, harpsichord... actually I think we have a broken one around here."
"All your instruments are broken, except the ones I've fixed."
The statement felt profound. He didn't know why.
"Then you were right to offer your help."
He could feel that she expected something else, anything else than that, but she held it back. People that only spoke with half their voice had that tendency.
ooo
"I finally got contacted by that dealer about the shotgun that I wanted."
Tifa didn't want to meet his eyes. She wasn't mad at him, she just didn't want to. He was one of those types of people and it was better that she didn't.
"Is there a number I can call, if there's a problem?"
He jotted it down and she realized his handwriting was loopy and graceful. She expected chicken scratch. Then again, she'd expect him to be unable to cook and unable to do his laundry. Veld was one of those people that didn't fit into what she expected, and yet did. It was frustrating sometimes.
"Just ask for Veld Dragoon."
"That's the first time I've heard your last name, you know. It sounds old."
"It is."
There are a lot of things she wanted to say. The worst caught her tongue.
"Will you tell me about your wife sometime?"
From the look he gave, he didn't lose her to death first. "I suppose if you're curious... it's really not important."
"I was married before too, you know. It happens." Tifa sold the ring. It was a stupid thing, really, he gave the same silly ring to Barret. She didn't expect that Cloud and her would last, once she figured out the boy in her mind and the man before her were different. Childhood illusions, those were the hardest to break. At least it had never been public. And so quiet. So brief.
Veld didn't look like he knew that. Tifa was comforted by this fact. Still meant she was going to tear apart his office while he was gone. But then, to some extent, he probably knew that.
There was something standing between them, and it was very secret.
Tifa had to admit now, that maybe there was a vest interest in this man. If only because there was so much unsaid, and so much that didn't need to be said. She'd started to worry if his wife, however long ago she was, if she resembled her. Not that she'd ever had the problem of resemblance before, just that the older a man got, the farther they dug themselves into their habits.
At least the chances were slim that they'd once been close to the same person. Or that if she dared anything, it would feel like family. The wrong kind.
She had to wonder what he would think, that what she was hiding behind her banter was something that both inappropriate and familiar.
"I'm sorry that it didn't work out."
"It was quick enough that nothing had really changed. So you were going to go on a trip? You don't look like you're going anywhere."
"I'll go in my own time. Behave."
"I always behave."
AN: The song being sung is DeVotchKa's "You Love Me", which is also where the title of the story is derived.