"Expect the best, plan for the worst, and prepare to be surprised."
-- Denis Waitley
-. Wait For It .-
Chapter VIII: Best Laid Plans
Tifa Lockhart had always considered herself an educated person.
Not institutionally educated of course. For few people nowadays could afford to even visit those remote campuses of higher learning that devoured privileged teenagers and spat out doctors, engineers and business executives.
In Nibelheim tradition, schooling had never been a true measure of achievement.
Originally, it had been music. Long before that first terrifying day of classes, she had been shaming kids nearly twice her age at piano recitals. It was then, early on, after pulling off a particularly difficult piece, that she discovered how delectable it was to be praised. And she found herself struggling to continue to impress every, even the most minute, audience.
Following her mother's death, Tifa then turned to her father and Master Zangan to fill that void in her confidence. Soon she could catch fish, scale mountains and fight, efficiently fight, not only with equipment but with her bare fists! At fifteen her skills were already the rival of champions, regardless of gender. So when Shinra called asking for guide into the mountains that fateful day, there had really been no other option considered for the job. Out of even the town's sturdy, country-boy population, no one could compare. Tifa was always the best.
In every, little thing attempted, she usually succeeded in mastering. Though it was by no means easy or, as some insisted, simply good luck. She worked hard for her abilities, practiced constantly to keep them from waning, and was a true believer in the idea that with a little determination, anything was possible.
Yes, in many ways, Tifa was educated ...but in others, she had to admit, there was room for improvement.
Especially when it came to romance.
Courting was one of the few sports that she hadn't quite managed to get the hang of despite many short-lived trials, the memories of which still left a bad taste in her mouth. Even after having moved to the city and loosening her standards a little, the process continued to be awkward and unrewarding. Something that was frustratingly difficult to practice and therefore not worth the effort of trying to perfect.
It had been three years now since she stopped trying, since anyone had so much as held her hand. Sustaining a relationship had been pushed onto the list of those few things deemed impossible, alongside such feats as stable high-heel walking and by-hand meringue whipping, all bolstered by the fact that she had at least made several genuine efforts to try.
In summary; no, Tifa Lockhart hadn't dated much.
But she had enough to know that, so far, this was not going well.
"Oh dear Gods..." she stuttered, instantly whipping a shaky hand to cover her mouth. "Cl-Cloud...I am s-sso sorry!"
"Shh. It-its's okay," he insisted through an unavoidable wince, slowly and oh-so-carefully unzipping his surely ruined jacket. "It happens."
"I-I can't believe…After all we…Dammit..."
Though both of them hadn't expected it to go perfectly, though both knew that this outing, this first date, the first one for either of them in years and in forever, was meant to have its bumps and awkward moments, neither had expected this.
For as little familiarity as they had on the subject, it was pretty much universally agreed upon that vomiting on your date's shoulder was probably one of the worst things you could possibly do.
Especially in the first ten minutes.
It had started going downhill a mere two hours previously. And, as always, it involved a certain meddlesome ninja.
"No," Tifa declared without a hint of hesitation.
Yuffie's lips fell into a disappointed frown. "Why the heck not?"
"Because I haven't suffered a head injury as of late."
Considering the argument settled, she turned back to the mirror and continued to brush the knots out of her dripping hair, trying her best to ignore the disapproving glower over her reflection's shoulder.
But the girl was, not unexpectedly, relentless.
"Tifffaaaaa…." she whined while stroking the wisps of shimmering red fabric. As if she were consoling a favorite pet that had just been deemed 'un-cute'. "Stop being such a mom for, like, two seconds and recognize that this is the perfect dress!"
"That 'dress' is more of an undergarment. People will stare."
"Well duh. That's the point! Just try it on at least? Trust me."
Tifa chuckled and gave the bag the benefit of one last glance over her shoulder. It wasn't long before she was adamantly shaking her head again, avoiding the pull of the satiny-looking cloth with a wistful breath.
"No. Can't. Besides," she gestured vaguely to the heap of yellow silk upon her comforter "I already have a dress."
The ninja's eyes widened with unabashed horror as she scanned the wrinkled and stained item from top to bottom, her conclusion made clear by a cringe so deep one would think something rotten had just been passed under her nose.
"No. No way. You can't possibly mean…"
A loud and low groan of frustration interrupted as Tifa swiveled her chair around, tightening her robe's sash as a sort of security restraint; ready and more than willing to skip to last resort, light violence in order to achieve some semblance of peace.
As epic as some people were dubbing this outing between her and Cloud, she was refusing to fall into the tempting trap of inflated expectations. And seeing as such, she had fittingly chosen to forgo most of the typical female preparations: no new clothes were purchased, no hours of primping were wasted and, most importantly, no advice was gleaned or even remotely desired from friends (especially such notoriously inappropriate ones).
Tonight was meant to be about two old friends getting far away from outside influences and debating whether to change their context. Tonight was about testing the waters, balancing pros and cons, figuring out whether being together was something they genuinely wanted to do or just felt they should do out of convenience. It was as much about business as it was pleasure. As much scientific as emotional. And Tifa had already acknowledged and made terms with the very likely conclusion that it was all simply too awkward and/or too late and/or too difficult.
Call it cynicism. Call it, as her current antagonist would suggest, being boring. There had just been so many disappointments in her life that she wisely chose being prepared over being optimistic. For the real danger of Yuffie's choice garment wasn't only in its physical audacity. It's that it would unfurl all those psychological efforts so far, making it obvious how desperate she and everyone else was for the evening to produce positive results. It would be a constant, breath-constricting reminder of the pressure already being applied from all angles.
The yellow dress was simple, unpretentious and uncomplicated. He had already seen her in it, which gave it the added attribute of safe.
To Yuffie however, it was a desperate cry for help.
"Tifa...Seriously?" she asked after a pause that was just a few seconds shy of being considered polite. "Are you trying to scare him into ignoring women-kind again? It's not healthy ya know?"
The barmaid only sighed and turned back toward the mirror, tugging the brush through her tresses with newfound hostility. "It's fine," she spat while whipping her chosen, modest garment off the comforter and into her lap, trying to convince herself that Marlene's buttered fingerprints were barely noticeable.
"It's GROSS! I don't think I'm being unreasonable by recommending that you wear something, at the very least, laundered."
"It's silk. Hand-wash only." For the hundredth time that day, she cursed the outrageous feature which was the primary reason she didn't usually own such fine clothing. "I have two kids and a bar. I-I didn't have time. It's fine. He won't care. What I wear is far from the point." In the mirror, she saw Yuffie's eyebrows rise. And so she added one last "It's FINE!", but delivered it with embarrassingly light confidence.
Easily enough, panic soon began to devour the warm glow of excitement that had been developing since she woke that morning. And a nearly suffocating wave of concerns began to plague her psyche.
Maybe...maybe she was under-doing it?
Maybe he would interpret her lack of effort regarding her appearance as lack of caring?
Maybe he would like it if she dressed differently? Not only like a girl for once, but like a woman. Maybe, by wearing Yuffie's chosen dress, he would be unable to resist...?
Tifa's hand, in the midst of loosening its grip on the now considered ruineddress, suddenly froze, annoyed at having fallen into such an obvious downward spiral. In just a few short minutes, Yuffie had somehow resurrected her younger, competitive self. The girl who lived only to make those around her proud, and who would have eagerly snatched up the new, flashier garment if she thought it had any chance of improving her odds of winning. The prize being not Cloud but Cloud's temporary fixation, along with the group's praise as the woman who achieved the impossible: making the notorious Mr. Lone Wolf act human for once.
She remembered the awkwardness of yesterday with his outlandish attempts at courting, having come from this very same source by no coincidence. She remembered warning - no, begging him to take things into his own hands. To go with his gut, to be himself. A deal which should be applied to both parties. They couldn't let Wutain ninjas influence their actions, not if they wanted to have an honest chance.
"Yuffie..."
She was about the force her out into the street, about to call in a favor from Vincent to guarantee that the girl stayed far away from them all night, but then she heard the door viciously slam from below.
Cloud. Home early from his deliveries and, she sensed, very, very displeased about something. And the combination displeased Cloud and persistent Yuffie was known to be virtually lethal.
"Stay here," Tifa hissed in the most threatening voice she could muster, hoping against all hope that the girl listened for once in her life.
After a quick glance in the mirror that did nothing but confirm that she looked wet and tired, Tifa tiptoed toward the stairs while tousling her hair and pulling at the short hem of her robe. There was a reason, she now realized, why people in the early stages of a relationship shouldn't live together. Even her tamed version of the feminine mystic ruse was quite difficult to keep up when you shared a bathroom. Yet another excuse as to why Yuffie's gloss-over attempts would have been in vain.
"There's got to be something you can do," Cloud was muttering into his phone, pacing the bar floor with his free hand clenched around one of the larger Tsurugi blades' hilt. "Surely someone else can-"
His eyes shot up as her bare foot touched the first panel of hard wood flooring and she forced herself to swallow a gasp.
He was mess. In one of the worst states of wear she had ever seen him in while still conscious.
"What happened?!" she exclaimed, shame of her state of dress completely forgotten as she rushed to his side.
With the shaking of his head, Cloud requested her silence for a few moments longer, dust and dirt flying off of him with the movement.
Reluctantly holding her tongue, Tifa's hands still forced him down into the nearest stool so that she could get a better look. Up close it was even worse. The entire left side of his cheek was scraped raw and there were four long, deep gashes on the opposite side of his torso. It was the exact accident she had always feared when he went on deliveries to Junon, taking that monster infested shortcut through the woods that just begged for trouble. He had obviously been taken by surprise and fell off his bike, probably while going at some ridiculously hazardous speed as well.
Biting down her desire to scream at his senselessness, she moved to fetch the first aid kit from behind the bar, trying to find solace in the fact that he was still alive, he had still come home.
This time.
"No. You know I can't do that," he grumbled into the phone, eyes never leaving her as she placed the usual gauze and antiseptic onto the counter top. "Because this isn't my fault. You should have found a replacement. I gave you more than enough warning."
Cotton ball saturated, Tifa poised herself to clean his cheek, gesturing with a nod of her head that he move the phone. He complied with his hand fumbling to drop the gadget into his lap and pick it up again to bring to the other ear, forearm now awkwardly stretched across his neck. It was then that she noticed his right arm, still holding the sword, hanging oddly loose by his side.
One touch, with the intention of only rolling up his sleeve, caused a piercing wince to escape his lips and the phone to plummet to the floor.
"Forget the call!" she insisted angrily, roughly pushing him back as he bent down to retrieve it. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing really. The usual pack of zemzeletts. I was on the phone. They surprised me. Can you get me the-"
"What's wrong with your arm?" There was no point in lecturing him about making calls while driving. After this, he probably wouldn't do it again.
"Tifa. This is important. Just give me the-" she reached down to his feet and brought the glowing device to his eyelevel before decisively slapping it shut "phone..."
With a defeated sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that she wouldn't let him focus on anything else prior to tending to his injuries.
"I don't know," he muttered, gratefully accepting the relief of his sword's weight as she unfurled his fingers and leaned it against the bar. "It hurts, so I know it's more than a bruise. Probably dislocated. Maybe fractured."
"If it's fractured, we have to get you to the hospital. Dislocated I can deal with here." Quick fingers reached forward to grasp the zipper of his sweater, deftly pulling it down. "Help me get this off."
For a long, awkward moment, he hesitated. Eyebrows raised to enhance his expression of nervous incredulity. But one scan of her determined features proved that he had no other choice but to comply, automatically shifting his good shoulder as she spread the two sides of the fabric apart and carefully directing his arms out of the sleeves.
"I thought," he paused, cringing when she accidentally brushed against one of his wounds.
"Sorry."
"It's fine. I just...I thought it wasn't until after the date that this happened?"
Tifa smacked him on the forehead, the only area of skin that wasn't covered in blood or bruises. Here she was, giving herself a neck cramp while desperately trying to keep her eyes only on his injuries and he just had to point out the already obvious tension. His lack of tact truly was ludicrous sometimes.
"Didn't we agree yesterday that you would stop being creepy?"
Cloud chuckled as she shimmied the last of the fabric free from his wrist and straightened out his bare arm for diagnosis. "I guess. Sorry. Just figured..." he poked timidly at the trailing sash of her bathrobe, making it increasingly difficult for her to focus on the bicep's discoloration. "I've never seen this. Thought that maybe yo-umph!"
In one neat movement, she maneuvered the shoulder back into its socket, knowing it was less painful when done by surprise and also, conveniently, cutting off his assumptions regarding her outfit.
Yes, the robe was rather short. Yes, it would have probably been wiser to throw on some sweatpants or at least underwear before coming to greet him. But he shouldn't be reading into it that much. It wasn't like she did it on purpose. It wasn't like she noticed that his sincere, subtle stares usually lingered on her legs more than anything else. Seeing as her date dress was deemed a catastrophe, it wasn't like she desperately wanted him to have at least one enticing image of her before this night was over.
Had she...?
Was her confidence really that pathetically fragile?
"You were right! It WAS dislocated!" she said brightly while slapping her hands together, forcefully interrupting her own disturbing thoughts. With his eyes still squeezed shut and his teeth gritted, Tifa wiggled the phone back into his open right hand as a reward for good behavior. "I'm giving you another five minutes to figure out the business issues while I run you a bath. You'll need to rinse out those scratches with soap and water. Then we're going to the hospital for stitches and x-rays."
"No!" A hand shot out to catch her elbow as she began to walk away, pulling her back to his side. When he spoke again, his voice was notably distressed. "Tonight...we have...dinner. Tonight. Remember?"
With a soft giggle, Tifa nodded, flattered though concerned by his apparent panic. "Of course I remember. Another time, okay?"
"No. Tonight. It has to be tonight. I've been waiting- "
"Then you'll wait a little longer. There's no rush. It's only been three days."
At this, Cloud laughed breathlessly, his sweaty forehead leaning forward to press against her shoulder as his body relented a little to exhaustion. "It feels..." a shaky sigh was breathed against her, the grip on her arm loosening and slipping down to settle on her wrist "a lot longer than that."
Tifa would have laughed with him if it weren't for the underlying misery in his words. It had only been three days since he had made the proposal but, to him perhaps, it had been years in the making. Nearly a lifetime of trying and failing, so much wasted time for both of them hiding behind excuses and uncertainties.
Impatience was understandable considering. However she couldn't help but be slightly annoyed by his continuing insistence on trying to skip to the back of the book, to the happy ending they both wanted to discover; Princess Amelia on the church steps with her Prince, riding off into the sunset and never having to worry about anything ever again. Didn't he realize yet that it wasn't for the ending that people fell in love with these stories? You had to enjoy them for both the comedy and the tragedy, the bad luck and the conquering of odds, for the epic battles and elaborate musical numbers. It was the journey, not the finale, that made you want to read or watch or experience a fairy-tale time and time again.
"There's no rush," Tifa repeated with an amused yet frustrated breath. Instinctively, she reached to brush a few sweat-soaked strands of hair from his good cheek, her fingers combing through to the back of his head. The action had been impulsive on her part, as natural and tender as when she did the same thing to Marlene and Denzel but, of course, there was a slightly different motivation in this case. As much as her touch was meant for comfort through his pain, she did it also because she simply wanted to feel him- to finally know the texture of those gravity defying locks which had fascinated her since childhood. They were softer than expected. Like chocobo feathers, as Marlene had often described.
Before the terror could set it, before the implications of what she was doing could begin to choke her and force the feelings to be locked away once more, she was distracted by Cloud leaning into her touch. His eyes, still closed, were no longer clenched and his body fell limp in the stool. Almost as if he were sleeping. Mixed with the heat of his skin and that earthen, tingly menthol scent that was uniquely Cloud, everything accumulated to make her feel, mysteriously, lightheaded.
It was quite a good feeling. So much so that she forgot to be bothered by both their 'tipping-the-odds' behavior.
Tonight was meant to be about logistics after all. And such things would be difficult to think about let alone discuss if they continued to have any sort of skin to skin contact.
And yet, no matter how hard she tried, in that moment she couldn't dare bring herself to move away.
It was like magnets. Industrial strength magnets.
"No rushing. I know," Cloud conceded after a few more seconds of internal struggle, seeing as it was currently taking all his willpower to not collapse. "I was just...looking forward to it. I…I want to get it over with."
At this, Tifa's jaw dropped open and the hand in his hair tugged back a little to force him into looking up at her. "Excuse me?"
Cloud let out a single, throaty chuckle, too tired to be embarrassed by his poor wording. "You know what I mean. It's nerve wracking, waiting for the first one."
"It's a date, not a dentist appointment."
"The two are kind of similar."
"Cloud!"
"Sorry. That sounded bad. It's not like you think. Just..." His red-rimmed, blue eyes were glazed with a rare weariness that forced her into silence, tilting her head as a gesture to continue though her expression remained insulted. "You're terrified at first, sitting in that waiting room. That's the worst part. It's a little less scary when you finally meet the doctor. And then, at the end, you get a prize. After that, you start looking forward to the visits. You strive to impress him with your oral hygiene. Cause then the prizes keep getting better and better. So, yeah. It's bad, the waiting, but on the way to something good. And then it's all good...in theory. Right?"
He gave her a hopeful twitch of his lips, but she remained stone-faced; her mind still struggling to digest his overall meaning while simultaneously stressing over what "prize" she was expected to relinquish tonight.
As if reading her mind, Cloud's eyes widened and he hastily began to re-phrase his anecdote. "No...That's not what I..." he shook his head to clear it, causing Tifa to giggle as his intentions, yet again, were proven innocent though skewed by lack of rhetoric practice. "Never mind. This was...a terrible analogy. The point isn't the prize."
"Good!" she blurted with difficulty through chuckles. "Cause I was close to recommending that you go look up the local dentist for a date."
"Tifa," he growled in warning, imploring that she make a semi-genuine effort to stop laughing. After a few failed attempts, he eventually succeeded in forcing all hilarity from the situation when he boldly pulled her a little closer so that her hips fit between his parted knees. A position that could in no way be interpreted as proper for either nursing or consoling. Especially with one of her hands still buried into the back of his hair, and his bare and bleeding chest radiating a heat felt through her thin cotton robe, and the friction between his thighs and her hips inadvertently pulling the material upward by perilous millimeters.
As intended, he suddenly had her full, devote and silent attention. In fact, he had managed to shut down all her motor abilities as well.
"The point isn't the prize," he repeated in a voice devoid of all derision. "It's the idea that something is terrifying until you experience it. And I just want to start experiencing and not stressing. As soon as possible."
It took her a few moments to untangle her nerves and digest the new interpretation. And it wasn't that much longer until the originally offensive comparison of their first date to a dentist appointment started to make sense. Despite her assertion to keep all things casual, there was no ignoring the fact that tonight was the epitome of a big deal. For their friends, for their children...for them. For everyone. Their union, or their decision to suppress that bond, would inevitably affect many, many lives. And the waiting, the torturous waiting, for an answer was more painful than the potential realization that they should just remain friends.
Not that, now, being just friends seemed liked an option. Not when so much of him was exposed and so close to her. Not when he was looking at her like that, the subtle flash of his irises hinting strongly of his faltering reserve, reminding her that he was still a mostly-human male despite the muddled DNA. And not when she found herself wishing, for the first time seriously, that his infamous control would finally crash and burn.
"We-We'll reschedule," she muttered while reluctantly removing the fingers from his hair, taking the scenic route over his forehead and down his dirt streaked cheek.
Cloud groaned in response, like a child being denied a popsicle on a hot day due to some silly reason like 'you'll spoil your supper'. "Do we have to?"
"Yes we have too! Personally, I'd rather we go at a time when you won't bleed out into the table cloth. I'd rather..." she paused, then sniggered, unable to say it.
"You'd rather what?" he prompted quietly, nuzzling her hand a little. It gave her the necessary push to continue.
"I'd rather we be…" she took a deep, staggering breath, stalling for time, knowing that it wouldn't be proper to imply it. But some part of her youthful, brazen self still reigned, putting personal triumph above those typical, "responsible" regulations. And it took less than a second to decide that she wanted not only to imply, but to act. Eventually. For this was one of the few things that in her winning, everyone won."I'd rather we be at full, physical...peak. For after. When we get back to our home."
Cloud's eyes widened considerably and she knew instantly that she had crossed a line. A line she no longer feared though. For up until then it had just been gentle teasing on his part, but with her new participation in the game, suddenly it was serious. Suddenly, he knew, it may have an actual chance of happening.
Suddenly, it was more petrifying than humorous.
"Our home...?"
With a shy grin, she nodded. "Our home."
Something about the mix of anxiety and anticipation in his expression, about the way the mako-glow to his eyes grew brighter, and she no longer blamed him for his silly lines over the past few days if this was how she looked in reaction. For lack of a better word, it was...fun to see him so flustered, to know that she had such an effortless power over this legendarily powerful SOLDIER.
It was also fun, to quote his depiction from yesterday, to be made to feel sixteen again. As she was feeling now when his good arm slowly began to rise, dragging deliberate fingers from her knee, up her thigh and to her waist covered only by a thin layer of cotton. The wearing of the robe seemed like the most brilliant of accidents as a long forgotten surge of heat spread from the top of her head to her very toes.
For the first time, seriously, she wondered what it would be like having Cloud spend the night. And not across the hall, six steps to the left. Even though they were technically still far from that step, it was something she now wanted to see happen, even if they failed as a long-term couple. If only for curiosity's sake. She now felt an intense compulsion to eventually explore every inch of his skin, to know the story behind every scar, to discover all his secrets, if only for one night.
But that wouldn't be tonight. She wouldn't let nearly three years of waiting cumulate into only three days.
Cloud wasn't that type of boy.
Not to mention, he hardly had the strength to sit upward anymore let alone participate in such exercise.
"Go take your bath," she instructed in a surprisingly husky voice. "I have to get dinner ready for the kids."
While shaking his head, he pulled her those two inches closer so that their chests touched, his arm snaking its way around her back and his head resting on the space between her shoulder and breast. As close as they could possibly get without being completely indecent. A position that was so very new and yet, surprisingly, not so strange. "I don't want to move," he murmured into her skin.
Well of course neither of them wanted to move. Of course, if they had been alone maybe, and if she couldn't already feel his blood seeping into her robe, they could have very easily stayed there for hours. Exploring. Like two previously untouched teenagers hiding in their parents' basement, praying that the adults' radio show playing on the floor above muffled any involuntary cries. The way it should have been.
The image made her giggle, which caused him to sigh against her neck.
Luckily, there was no need to attempt calming each other down or awkwardly discuss the zenith of their so far immature physical relationship. For a loud, long and shrill scream from the upper floor easily and instantly forced their attention elsewhere.
Just when they thought their luck couldn't get any worse.
Author's Note: Less than 2 hours ago, literally, I handed in my last University project ever. The typical excuses, yada yada yada, of me taking forever to update. But of course, the second that sucker finished uploading to the school server, I had this file up and running and determined to post before sleeping :D. Truth be told, I've had TWO chapters of this fic and one each of my other two ready for a while, but I tend to write crap when it's in bits and pieces during breaks so I refused to put anything up. In fact, this chapter includes my first real "cliffhanger" because it ended up being twenty pages long! So here is part one. Hope you enjoyed.
Welcome all new readers I've collected these past few months! Just so you know, I do update faster depending on reviews (especially when I have the next part already done :P). Hope to hear from you all! It's good to be back and I look forward to a writing-productive summer!
- May