"It's the actual value of the forgone alternative, because by definition that opportunity lost is 'the road not taken' -- the alternative passed up in favor of the preferred option."

-- Microeconomics 201 (personal notes)

-. Wait For It .-

Chapter VI: Opportunity Cost

Today

The last dish had long since been cleaned away.

The last of the crowd had long since, awkwardly, slunk out the door.

Even Yuffie, who was known for her egregious lack of tact, had chosen this night of all nights to give them their space. Taking it upon herself to make sure the children properly prepared for bed and wouldn't dare to leave their room, before quietly letting herself out.

All too soon, they were alone again. Alone as they had been hundreds of nights before and yet never like this. Never had she thought she would be the one hiding, unable or unwilling to face his disappointed expression.

If this had been one of those normal, quiet nights, after they'd checked on the kids, they would head down to the bar for a nightcap. Either warm milk or a tiny thimble full of whiskey, depending on the stress levels of their days.

He'd help her finish any lingering dishes and count the cash, and then she'd help him sort through his messages and plan his routes. It was a silly tradition that she looked forward to every night, except the fewer and fewer days he had far off deliveries, ever since his geostigma had been cured. Every night since the night he had promised all three of them that he wouldn't leave again. That he had no desire to even think about leaving them.

It had been nearly six months since then. Half a year of board games and cartoons and sticky fingers that so didn't compliment dark leather and brooding. A whole six months and yet only a few weeks since she had started to actually believe it. Only a few days even since her breath, for the first time, hadn't caught in her throat when she saw his empty bed or boots missing from the doorway.

It had been a simultaneously euphoric and petrifying feeling to finally know, with almost absolute certainty, that they were in this together. That, maybe, they would be under the same roof for the rest of their lives.

Maybe.

Maybe…

As if a ring, a beautiful, brilliant, diamond ring, would ever turn that maybe into a conviction.

Tifa sighed loudly, forgetting for a moment that his enhanced hearing would surely pick the sound up through the walls and coax him to react. It wasn't until a few seconds later, when the air around her became abruptly warmer, thicker, that she realized what she had done.

As silently as the wind that breathed through the open window, he was suddenly there. Behind her. Smelling, as always, of leather and lighting. Close, but not too close. Never too close. Even when formally asking her to be with him forever, he had kept a civil, respectful distance.

What a special marriage they would have made indeed.

"I know what you're trying to do," she whispered to the emptiness in front of her, annoyed that she hadn't the opportunity to better select her words, but relieved to no longer be perched on the precipice, merely waiting to plummet. "But it's not what you really want…is it?"

His initial reaction was nothing more than the rustle of fabric. An uncomfortable shrug? A passionate head shake? A rude hand gesture? She hadn't the confidence yet to turn and find out. Especially because of the light. At this time of day, twilight, his eyes would be especially bright, their unnatural glow obvious and eye-catching. It would be all too easy to get lost in their abyss.

"What I want…?" he repeated, still sounding as confused as he had those long minutes ago out in the bar. Pondering whether she was serious.

Was it possible that she didn't know? How could she not know?

Cloud audibly swallowed, frustratingly nervous to be talking to her about this out loud. It was meant to be easy. They had all assured him that it would be so easy. An instant-oatmeal happy ending.

Yeah right.

"I want you to stop expecting me to not come home one day," came his honest and straightforward answer after a few moments of anxious contemplating. "I want Marlene and Denzel to not feel awkward when a stranger refers to them as my kids. I want us to be a real family."

Tifa scoffed lightly. She hadn't meant to, not really. For his reasons were indeed heartwarmingly sincere. It was just his assumption that these issues could be resolved by marriage that made her mind automatically flip the switch from apprehension to hilarity. Proof that he really knew nothing about women.

On the other side, Cloud couldn't blame her skepticism. For it was true that 'being a family' had once been more of a failed distraction than an actual ambition. Back when images of Aerith and Zack haunted him every minute, causing him to recoil from the very notion of having people depend on him, or him depend on people. Back when the stigma proved that Jenova would never be completely out of his system, and leaving them as a disappointment was easier than being revealed to them as a monster.

But he had changed. That last battle, what he hoped to be the last battle ever, had changed him. Not so much that he'd be winning "father-of-the-year" anytime soon (he still never remembered that Denzel hated onions, or that Marlene wouldn't sleep a wink unless he left the hallway light on), but he was learning. They were teaching him. And he felt he was close, so very tantalizingly close, to achieving perfect peace.

Having let go of his past, all that remained, all he felt he needed, was a solidified future. A feat she was presently denying despite her obvious desire for the same. Getting married, applying to adopt Marlene and Denzel as a couple would guarantee acceptance and jump start the type of relationship he knew they both wanted to investigate.

This will make it perfect. Complete. Why are you fighting it? Are you afraid? Why are you making my same mistakes…?

"You don't believe me. Still? After everything. All this time?" Even without facing him she could perceive his expression perfectly. Typical offended Cloud. Lips pressed together and pale eyebrows knitted. So very adorable when not the preceding a brutal attack.

It was decided then, instantly and resolutely, that she wouldn't allow this little episode to alter their bond; a friendship that was well on its way to becoming so profound that she would probably never stop fearing its absence. For there were many other grounds besides desertion that could lead to Cloud never coming back home. He could get hurt on the road. He could be kidnapped for further mako research. He could find a girl, a beautiful and delicate girl, who wore silk and pastels, not leather and grays, who could easily sweep him off his feet and make him forget that he ever considered marrying the damaged waitress from that dive bar. In such a case, she'd have to be the one to kick him out, forcing him to live life as it was meant to be.

He was still young, still almost unrealistically handsome, strong and certainly competent. It could happen. The kids were, technically, her responsibility and therefore no baggage to him. She had to be prepared for it happening. She had to…

Her very brain froze with a jolted shock as she saw the arms rise on either side of her. In a blink, too quick for even her enhanced reflexes to react, she was being pulled to him, her back flush against his upper body and her loose arms pinned to her chest from being tightly and desperately squeezed.

Six months he had been back. Six months of seeing each other every day and every night and the most he had ever instigated of physical affection was one, probably accidental, stroke of her hair while watching a movie. To say that she was shocked would have been putting it lightly. Not only due to the fact that such a gesture was rare and unexpected, but because of the alarming way her body reacted.

This wasn't the giddy blush that sometimes happened when their skin accidentally brushed. Nor was it the usual swell of contentment that came when she coaxed an exceptional smile from his lips. This was Cloud, all of him, his heart, his soul and, most notably, his body, pressed against her, surrounding her. Overwhelmed by the raw power of him. The mako-menthol scent of his skin, at this minute distance, overshadowing all other senses.

She had to remind herself to breathe.

The bare arms enclosing her were pure muscle, not too much, not too little, covered by a perfectly smooth layer of warm skin. When her knees reflexively buckled, those perfect arms kept her from falling, one of them lowering for a better grip across her stomach, the places where he made contact with bare skin tingling.

He was ruining it. This, this would officially ruin everything they had worked so hard for. A stable, caring household and flourishing businesses, dotted by a mild flirtation that kept things interesting but still within proper, silently agreed-upon boundaries. Boundaries that he was currently ripping apart.

And yet…she made no move to recoup. She couldn't. She wouldn't dare to. The heat of him, the restrained passion. It was too good.

"Tifa…" he whispered hoarsely in her ear, his lips brushing lightly over the back of her bare shoulder, causing her to tremble. "I…I'm not good at this."

Though still unsure of his exact intentions, Tifa had to disagree. Whether he was trying to chide her or scare her or excite her, he was succeeding masterfully at all three.

She felt the breath of his sigh flutter her hair before letting his forehead fall onto her shoulder, giving them both a sorely needed moment to sort out their many muddled thoughts made all the more confusing by this intimate position.

They stood like that for what felt like hours, but had probably been only a few seconds. They may have actually stood there all night if he hadn't moved that finger. One of the ones, as an accident of catching her of course, that had ended up two knuckles deep into the waistband of her shorts around the curve of her hip. Maybe it was in an attempt to draw back, or maybe he was testing his boundaries, but for some reason, Cloud began dragging the digit along that strip of exposed flesh. A touch that was wholly innocent and yet way too personal, bordering on a psychosomatic violation.

Her hand automatically flew up to catch his and stop, unable to simply wait to discover his intentions.

"Cloud?" his name initially came out as a squeaky rasp. He froze and caught his breath, as if more shocked than she of where his hand had "accidentally?" ended up while daydreaming. And yet he was making no effort to rectify the situation. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Cloud…what is this?"

A slow, deep breath as his head shimmied to bury itself more deeply in the crook of her neck. Though never done before, the pose felt so calming, so natural. Like he had been made to rest there. Then, after settling, he let out a disheartened chuckle. "I have no idea," he admitted, the fingers in her waistband slowly, almost hesitantly, curling into a fist on the more appropriate stomach area.

She was so pleasurably cool beneath his fingers, even through the leather. Her skin unexpectedly soft and firm. Like velvet steel; a marvel of nature that he had simply had to explore further upon that first sample. Why had he waited so long to try this, he now had no clue. Though her shivering proved his initial fear of his touch affecting her, it was in a way he hadn't dared to consider. In a way that was slowly bringing to life a long dormant part of himself. The fourteen-year-old, physically perfectly normal boy, watching through his window as the most popular girl in town practiced cartwheels in the center square. He remembered how he used to stare at her legs, riveted by their unnatural length and power and flexibility.

They were the type of legs that made a boy want to do anything for. Something stupid. Like join the army and try out for SOLDIER. The legs, he was suddenly acutely aware of, whose owner was presently in his arms, what felt like lifetimes later.

The memories brought to the forefront of his mind the other reason, of course, for his proposal. The one where her limbs and skin and hair were but a microscopic (but increasing growing) portion of it. A reason he wasn't sure of and therefore wouldn't dare to voice.

"All I know is;" he decided to continue his thoughts out loud, sensing her need for an answer. "I don't want to lose you. You…take care of me. I couldn't handle you leaving."

Tifa eyes narrowed dubiously. Was that what he was honestly afraid of? "You know I wouldn't do that. I would never do that to you guys."

"The kids no. But you have no reason to keep me. If you send in the papers now and they go through, you'll be their mother. You're bound together. What am I? Where do I fit it?"

"Is that what this is about?" the ridiculousness of his fears finally gave her enough confidence to spin in his arms and face him. Those glowing mako eyes, as expected in the twilight, making her feel unbalanced. "You wanted us to be married…so that we'd all have an official paper link at the WRO? Seriously?"

Cloud cringed at the insinuation. It was so much more than that…

"You make it sound so-"

"Absurd?" she interrupted, giggling. "Well that's cause it is."

"It would make everything easier," he defended hastily. Had she already forgotten of that terrible night a few weeks ago? The night the pamphlet came from the WRO. The night her palpable pain had forced him, for the first time, to seriously consider the incident that led them to this moment?

"That may be so. But Cloud…" she pushed against his chest to increase the distance between them, her chuckle lessening its exuberance as the situation became more pitiable than funny. "You don't marry someone because it makes things easier. You don't marry the first and only girl you find yourself merely comfortable with or...or, maybe," she almost choked on the next insinuation, finding it equally absurd and yet amusing "attracted to. Those things fade. Those things you can experience with a multitude of people. You marry someone because…"

She thought of Cid and Shera. She thought of her parents. She thought of all those couples she knew who had taken the plunge and what steps had led them there. None of which, in even the remotest sense, she and Cloud had experienced. Sure they had the jobs, the house and the kids. All the after and none of the before. By those terms, yes, marriage did make sense as the next obvious step. But it was also where she drew the line of letting the backwardness of their relationship continue.

"You marry someone because you can't live without them," the words came to her naturally, as if his stare was prompting the lines from her lips. "Because you believe there is no one else in the world you could ever love as much. Because you're so physically addicted to one another, even after having passed the test of time, that getting married and letting the world know that you have no desires except for one another is the only possible thing left to do, making your life and your soul finally, finally complete!"

When she was finished, she was inexplicably out of breath, fists clenched desperately to the material of his sweater. Upon realizing this, she pushed him a little further back before releasing, finally fully breaking their embrace.

Cloud only blinked, slightly shocked and intimidated by the passion of her speech.

He had asked her to marry him and she had said no. At the time, it had seemed like the most heartless and silly thing she had ever done.

But now…

"Have dinner with me."

It was Tifa's turn to be dumbfounded this time, her eyebrows rising at the rather impromptu change of subject. "Um. Okay," her eyes wandered the kitchen, hands on her hips in an attempt to hide her flustered state. "I think we have some left over pot roast in the frid-"

"No… I mean," a hand raked nervously through his blonde spikes, trying to organize his thoughts. He had been hoping to skip this part. Not only did he feel way too old for such juvenile propositions, but also that they had known each other for much too long for it to have any sort of point. But better late than never, he supposed. "I mean dinner. Like, you and I, alone. Not…you know, here. Out."

"Are you…" she ducked to meet his lowered eyes, hoping that their clarity would help confirm the rather preposterous assumption of what he was trying to say. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

His gaze moved to the left, then to the floor, then to the right. Hands went through his hair one more time before finally gathering the courage to meet her incredulous stare. "I…think so."

He hoped he was at least. His experience is that area was less than null, so he had stolen a line from one of the old girlish movies he had watched with Marlene once. But there was no guarantee that the content of this new offer of his had been proper for this day and age, especially considering their current, complicated situation.

Dinner out. People still did that, right?

"Yes you are." Tifa began nodding animatedly, a teasing smile gradually making its way to her lips. "You are most definitely asking me out Mr. Strife."

Gods. She had a gallingly uncanny talent of making him feel fourteen again. Pre-mako trauma, no longer a boy, not yet a man, a little unsteady, shy and, for some weird reason, constantly aware of her legs. They had become even longer since then, he just noticed.

Interesting…

"Interesting…" Tifa said aloud, most likely referring to his rehashed proposal as opposed to the realization of having physically changed over the years. In fact, as he was suddenly and acutely aware, every feminine aspect of her had enhanced since then.

The fourteen-year-old boy in him couldn't help but audibly gulp. But the twenty-three-year-old man he was, thankfully, was too stressed waiting for an answer to give it any more thought.

"Soo…?" he prompted softly while lightly bouncing on his heels. Never had he felt so strained. And that was saying a lot.

Tifa took a step back, a single finger tapping against her lips as her dark eyes scanned him from head to toe. Weighing the pros and cons.

More so than a sham marriage with no chance of happening, this decision would be one that would greatly affect their relationship and needed some careful consideration. The cons were obvious. Close as they were now, what if they didn't work out romantically? Would it ruin things? Would Denzel and Marlene, perceptive as they were, be affected? Would the businesses hold under the strain? Could their friendship, the very base of this entire household, crumble and leave all four of them disappointed and hollow?

On and on the list went, her smile waning with every new excuse as to why this would be a very, very bad idea. By the time her scan reached his neck, she had almost decided not to bother with the pros. It was simply not worth it, especially since she felt nearly completely satisfied as they were now. Friends, partners and, to her at least, a still perfect and unspoiled fantasy. Why risk that?

But then his lips came into view. Those perfect, pale and slightly chapped lips. And all of a sudden she was thirteen again, sitting under the stars at a water tower on a secret rendezvous. She remembered the thrill of knowing that if her father caught them, she would be grounded for life. She remembered staring at him, a boy she had known all her life and yet never really seen. Even then, before the mako enhancements, at twilight, his eyes still shone; a darker shade of blue than she had ever thought humanly possible. She remembered, for the first time, feeling weak in the knees. A feeling that had never been reanimated by any of the men in her life.

And then…a promise. It had been like a fairy tale. She a princess and he, a white…well…blonde at least, knight in coming-soon shining armor.

The thirteen-year-old girl in her started to blush and wanted to scamper away giggling. But the twenty-two year old now knew, as she finished the examination up into those still too-blue eyes, that there was only one answer she could give.

In a few quick steps she crossed the room to the counter, leaving him with his heart stuck in his throat, thinking she had abandoned the idea. Shot down, yet again. Of course, that was far from the case. She stopped in front of the telephone she used to take orders for the bar and began scribbling on the notepad kept there for messages. When she was done, she ripped the page from the pad and strode over to him, lifting his hand and slapping the paper into it.

"Pick me up at seven? Friday?" she asked boldly. He could only nod. With nothing more than a brief, smug smile, she turned around and left the kitchen, assumedly heading for bed considering the late hour and tomorrow being the day she got up early to scour the market. An action he should have been following, but instead remained glued to the spot, frozen with his hand still in the air and her note resting on his gloved palm.

Only after he heard her bedroom door close from the floor above did he even consider reading it. Nervous hands unfolded the paper and brought it up to his face, prepared to consume every word with the utmost care.

There, casually scrawled in her neat writing, was a very simple message. Four lines that made the tension automatically release from his shoulder and a small, almost imperceptible grin to appear on his lips.

It was an address. One that was obviously made to mimic the many scribbled-on napkins he often found scattered around the bar from attempted courtships.

'Tifa

777-2493

Across the hall

Six steps to the right'

Still smiling, he delicately refolded the note and put it in his pocket before moving to head upstairs as well.

This second proposal of his, made without any sparkling trinket for incentive or friends' assertions for confidence, had been more nerve wracking than the original. Despite it's relatively lighter significance.

He couldn't explain it, but for some reason her acceptance had thrilled him more than he thought possible. More than when he defeated his arch enemy or saved the world, for this had been something he stood up to alone and passed the challenge. One that every other male from his home town had failed: he, the scrawny, weird and weak Cloud Strife, had a date (a word that still seemed too casual) with Tifa Lockhart. The most beautiful and spirited and interesting girl in Nibelheim.

If only they could see him now. If only there were someone still around to tell him what to do now.

When he lay down in his bed that night, Cloud had to mull over the source of his good fortune as of late. It didn't take him long to boil it down to simple economics. Opportunity cost. When something was lost, something else is gained in exchange; a more a rational version of the 'one door closes, another one opens' theory.

At one point or another he had lost family, friends, his sanity, his faith and, earlier tonight, his pride when she had denied him in public. But in exchange, after everything he had suffered…he got Tifa. At least, a chance with Tifa.

That night, with the memory of her skin still on his fingertips, he considered it to be a more than fair compensation.

As his eyelids gradually grew heavier, he kept his gaze firmly glued to doorway. Knowing, with a strange sort of reverence, that she was there on the other side. So close and yet so far. Across the hall, six steps to the right and an eternity beyond.

Friday was only three days away.

He could hardly wait.

Author's Note: Yay fluff! Sorry for lack of updates. Slow review week.

On another note, I was shocked and amused by how many people were still asking "I don't get it! Why did she say no?" after the last chapter. As sweet as Cloud was being as of late, the proposal was in fact the first and ONLY sign he had ever given that he was interested in being more than friends. Kinda skipped a few steps there and, let's face it, as great as couples may seem on paper, sometimes it just doesn't work out in practice sadly. Tifa, as always, is just being careful. More for his sake than hers.

I'm greatly looking forward to writing the next few chapters, for the whole point of this story is to play with awkward Cloud, pushing him through those painful/exciting ages of 16-21 that he was forced to skip. For as difficult as that time is for all of us, it is essential to discovering who we are and what we want in life. You just have to wait for it :P.

Til next time. Thanks for reading.