Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This collection is mine, as are Duke and McCallister. These ditties will probably be a little longer than the ditties of my past collection, so that I can adequately respond to requests. Thank you for the first round of prompts! Enjoy!
..:-X-:..
102 – Public Opinion
For Fantasy0Girl
"One gallon of chocolate. One gallon of strawberry." The lady behind the register chuckled. "What'd you do this time?"
Leon exhaled, handing the older woman the munny.
The clerk cashed it in and bagged the cartons. "Ain't no man ever bought this much ice cream unless he said the wrong words, did the wrong thing, or stared at the wrong—"
"Thank you." He took the bags, waved away the change, and left without another word.
"That was a little presumptuous." The manager said, leaning out of his office.
"No it wasn't." Wedge stepped up to the counter with his own purchases.
The clerk giggled, scanning the items. "Bless him."
The manager blinked, "What's wrong with a man buying ice cream?"
Wedge and the clerk exchanged a look.
"He's new." The clerk answered, then to the manager. "Did that look like the kind of guy who could or would plow through two gallons of that stuff?"
"Ice cream has a mystical power over women." Wedge said, paying the clerk. "It's the duct tape that men use to fix the anger section of the female brain."
"So…his wife then?" The manager lifted an eyebrow.
Both the clerk and Wedge laughed at that.
"Honey," The woman smiled, "You're new, so I'll tell you what you need to know about life in Radiant Garden. One: stay out of the Old District after dark. Two: the bigger the sword, the more you should stay away from the person holding it. Three: the only people in the Alliance who don't think that Leon and Tifa are good together are Leon and Tifa."
Wedge snickered at the manager's confused expression, "Can you imagine? Missions with them as partners are impossible enough."
"Does…everyone think this?" The manager gave an absent gesture.
"It's hard not to." The clerk shrugged. "You get used to seeing one with the other."
"They're like opposite sides of the same brain, dude." Wedge held his hands up parallel. "They work together. They live together. They run missions together. They just aren't…together."
"Oh, but their kids would be beautiful." The older woman sighed.
"And terrors." Wedge mumbled, taking his bags and leaving the store.
"We've got a pool going." The clerk informed the poor manager. "The guys at the spare parts store are mostly betting on next year, and the lady who runs the bakery swears it'll be before the holidays. My munny is on this summer."
"Next summer what?" The man said, utterly confused.
"That they'll 'fess up and hook up." The woman shook her head, as though he was slow. "My goodness, sir, get with the picture."
..:-X-:..
103 – Homecoming
For raiko. EXE
The crowd was too thick for Moses to part, much less Tifa with her one satchel. The Allied hangar in Radiant Garden was always packed and chaotic when a squad came back from a mission. Only she and twelve others had been deployed for the latest raid against the Heartless, but it had been more intense than more recent attacks. Two of her squad had been killed. Three were severely wounded. Not good.
But the seven who walked themselves off the Gummi excited the people still.
They pressed in, waving and calling and holding signs with names to attract their returned heroes, sons, daughters, what have you. Tifa slipped through them for the most part, eventually finding a clearing and ducking through. They could celebrate without her.
"Tifa!" Private Tabaeus McCallister suddenly appeared at her side.
"McCallister—" Tifa replied.
"Good to have you back!" Another soldier called, patting her shoulder as she walked by.
"Thanks—" She managed to respond, escaping the congratulatory greetings from six other of the townspeople before she heard a dog barking and saw her name in ink.
LOCKHART. The letters were splashed in bold black on a white piece of standard paper. Like a chauffeur flagging their client down at an airport. No waving or calling or other wild gestures to get her attention. That wasn't how Leon rolled.
Instead he just stood there, outside the mess of people, holding the simple sign in one hand, just enough to catch her eye. Utterly deadpan. Tifa grinned and shook her head, making her way toward him. Duke was romping off somewhere; she could hear the barking.
"Lurking in a corner," She said when she was a few yards away, "Is that any way to greet a returning hero?"
"Why, do you see one?" He said, a smirk touching the corner of his mouth.
She threw her bag at him in response, still grinning. He caught the satchel in the chest and looked past her to the rest of her squad and their happy reception in the heart of the hangar. She glanced back as well. Three straight days hunting Heartless and staying alive, and they were all still running on pure adrenaline. At any given moment, the jubilation would break out and the two of them would be swamped by the troops.
Hands to shake, questions to answer, and the ever-present random information that the 'wizened elders' of Radiant Garden felt inclined to pass onto them: when all she wanted to do was—
"Let's get out of here." Leon finished her thought for her.
"Read my mind." Tifa said.
Narrowly avoiding the small group that was starting to look for their commanding officers to pull into the public celebration, Tifa and Leon slipped out of the hangar and into the adjacent working garage. It was considerably more vacant, though a few stragglers were loitering around the machines.
"Where—" She started. The apartment they shared was nearly across town, and the office was—an undesirable place to find some privacy to catch up.
She didn't finish her question as he abruptly stopped. They had found themselves on the passenger side of the old green jeep that Tifa had bought a few months earlier and had been set on restoring to working condition. The rusted, gutted, naked-looking vehicle was a sight for sore eyes. It had been moved here from the storage unit where she had left it.
Before she could ask, Leon had popped open the back hatch in the rear of the jeep. He tossed her satchel into the back and gave a wordless gesture for her to come closer. She narrowed one eye and obliged, seeing that the back seats of the jeep had been pushed forward and flat. Still without saying anything, he sat on the edge of the hatch and pulled himself in.
What the…was he hiding? He looked like a child hiding from the boogeyman…So maybe that made the crowd the boogeyman. Snickering, she climbed in as well.
"This is ridiculous." She said, "Hiding from them?"
"Not hiding." He lifted a hand, "Strategically evading."
"Oh." She said, playing along. "Hunker down until the crowd dissipates?"
He grunted in the affirmative, making sure no one else in the garage was watching them.
"You're so anti-social that it's almost not amusing." She folded her arms, but smiled appreciatively. She understood the aversion to being mauled by happy soldiers.
Satisfied that they had finally found some privacy, Leon leaned against the wall of the jeep and looked at her. He looked stressed out and relieved at the same time. It was becoming the normal expression on him.
"Welcome home." He said with an even look.
Tifa felt momentarily off guard but then smiled, "Thanks."
..:-X-:..
104 – Couch Potato
For raiko. EXE
After 48 hours of the worst stomach flu that Leon had had in recent memory, he finally dragged himself out of bed and into the living room of the small apartment. What had started as a headache and mild nausea had turned into full body ache and vomiting everything he'd ever eaten, rendering him nearly immobile for the past two days.
"Oh look. It lives." Tifa sounded a little too chipper from where she sat at the table.
He could only muster a pale glare as he leaned his forearms across the back of Tifa's ugly couch. He still felt like shit, but he'd never say that out loud. It had been Hell enough just hearing Tifa fret outside his room, even though she thought she was being sneaky about it.
"You look terrible." Always blunt. "Go back to bed."
Guh, the idea of being stuck in bed for another minute was not appealing at all. The clock on the wall read that it was half past six…in the afternoon if the sunlight in the window was right. He grimaced and staggered around the couch, sinking down onto it and slowly lying down across the ugly piece of furniture.
"No." He finally groaned.
He heard her sigh in exasperation and stand up. Not bothering to look over at her, Leon just lay on his back, feeling that one rogue spring in the couch pressing awkwardly against his hip. The cushions were lumpy and the upholstery was coarse and aggravating to the skin. It was the most horrid shade of salmon-orange that he had ever seen.
Leon rubbed his eyes with one hand, propping his arm against the back rest of the couch. Sometimes he thought Tifa kept it around just because it irritated him to no end. It had become a sick game of hers.
Cool glass nudged his elbow. He lifted his hand away from his eyes enough to see Tifa leaning against the couch, holding a glass of what looked like orange juice.
"Vitamin C." Tifa offered. "Stock up."
He grunted and took the glass, more to appease her than because he wanted the drink. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" She just smirked, staying behind the couch.
"Like you're pitying me." He said, taking a sip from the orange juice.
"Oh, I don't pity you." She tutted, "But I'm going to make soup—"
"Don't—"
"And get a blanket—"
"Tifa—"
"And curl up with you—"
"I swear—"
"And watch a movie!"
"Stop it." He snapped, but there was no heat behind it.
He HATED being mother-henned. He was a grown man; he could take care of himself. Unfortunately, Tifa was a perpetual mother hen. He had to respect the effort she had put out in leaving him alone so far.
So he just lay there on her deformed couch as she went into full Fret Mode. At least this monstrous piece of furniture didn't feel like a bed. As long as he didn't feel like he was in bed, then he knew he wasn't dying…this time at least.
"I hate this couch." He grumbled.
"Yeah, yeah, it hates you too." She said from the kitchen.
But he made no motion to get up, and by the time she weaseled her way onto the couch with him, he couldn't remember why he had wanted to get up in the first place.