Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This collection is mine, as are McCallister and the recruits. Enjoy!
..:-X-:..
122 – Vulnerability
For kikofreako
"Dammit…" Leon heard Tifa choke. "Leon…Can you help me?"
She sounded as defeated, frustrated, and near tears as she had yesterday when she'd come home from the ER, shoulder in a sling, refusing to talk about the battle that had gone wrong to put her in such a state. She had promptly gone to bed before he could question the matter, but if she didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to press her.
"Yeah." He replied, setting the piece of the Gunblade that he had been cleaning on the coffee table. "Coming." He walked to her room, opening the door.
The sight of Tifa's entire bare back stopped him short. She was facing away from him, sitting on a chair in front of her small vanity table. She'd taken off the sling and had been in the middle of what looked like getting dressed when the shoulder proved that act impossible.
"I'm sorry." Her reflection in the mirror was red with frustration and her lips were pursed. "I was fine last night but it…my shoulder got stiff during the night and I can barely move it." Her other arm was around her front, covering herself.
Regardless, Leon had locked his eyes on the footboard of her bed. "Right, so you need help with—"
"I'm sorry." She groaned, hanging her head down. "I thought I could do it by myself but I guess I suck at that too."
"You don't suck." He remarked, "See? You got your pants on by yourself." He said, trying to sound teasing.
It worked because a small smirk touched her lips through the frustrated quiver. "Oh shut up. My bra's over there." She nodded across the room.
He glanced over at her before walking over and picking up the rogue undergarment.
"I—uh—threw it over there after the first dozen failed attempts." She answered his unspoken confusion.
He grunted at that, crossing over to her and standing behind her, uncomfortable for a moment. This was…going to be awkward…was already awkward…A hiccupping shudder moved through Tifa's shoulders and she dropped her head further, her hair falling in front of her eyes. Her body language said she felt even more uncomfortable than he did.
Clearing his throat, Leon shelved his own discomfort. She was the one with the wrecked shoulder and emotional…issue or whatever…not him.
"Here we go." He focused on the curve of her shoulder blades as he slid the brazier around her stomach, letting her move her unhindered arm through the strap.
He tugged the strap up over that shoulder and took the other strap in one hand, gently navigating her injured arm through the loop. She grimaced and he muttered an apology, lightening his touch and sliding the twists out of the material. She kept her gaze firmly on the vanity surface in front of her.
She was embarrassed at needing help, he knew. Having to be dressed like a child, he would hate it too. He shifted back to pick up the sleeveless shirt on the bed, giving her some privacy to adjust her…ample, uh, assets…so that the bra covered her when he turned back.
Draping the shirt over one arm, he gently slid the clasp together in the back and made sure nothing was sticking her. Satisfied, he unfolded the shirt and helped her maneuver her good arm and, more difficultly, her injured arm through the material until her head popped through the neck of the shirt. She wordlessly wriggled the material down to her waist and he carefully slid her hair out of the back of the shirt, letting it fan down her back.
She seemed a little more at ease now that she wasn't half naked. He tucked the tag of her shirt in…pet peeve…and glanced at the sling on the bed.
"Do you want the—" He gestured to it.
Tifa swallowed, avoiding looking at him directly. "No, I can…on my own…"
"All right." He nodded, then, "I was about to order a pizza, extra olives, you want in?"
She pushed her hair back, fussing with the brace around her elbow. "You hate olives."
"Yeah, but you don't." He shrugged, "And you look like you could use some olives."
The closest thing to a laugh that she'd made in 24 hours came from her throat and she turned, finally looking at him. "If you say so. I'd hate to be olive-deficient."
He gave her a thumbs up and turned for the door.
"Leon?" She said quietly.
"Hm?" He looked back.
She stood and picked up the sling, starting to work it around her neck. "Thanks…for helping me and not…getting weird."
"You're welcome…I think." He tilted his head, blinked, and went to order the pizza.
His odd response earned a chuckle from her, and for now, that was thanks enough.
..:-X-:..
123 – Return the Favor
The hand-to-hand combat recruits were down to four sparring pairs. It had taken half an hour for the other pairs to beat each other out, pair the winners, and go through the system of elimination that led to these eight remaining contenders. The stakes? The winner would get the rest of the day off while the other 23 recruits went through drills.
The other recruits…who were supposed to be watching the remaining contenders. The losers who were supposed to be learning from watching the winners. The ones…who weren't even paying attention.
"McCallister." Tifa sat back in her seat, a few rows away from the rest of the soldiers in training. "What do you see?"
The private, who was loitering to watch Tifa's combatants for her own weapons defense training, followed Tifa's gaze. "A combat squad."
"Widen your gaze." Tifa gestured, seeing what the rest of her recruits were watching.
The remaining four pairs of sparring pairs had become two; four recruits left. McCallister leaned back against the wall of her seat, glancing across the training grounds. Leon was sitting in a seat on the adjacent wall of the training building, watching the contenders and taking mental notes.
Last week, Tifa had sat in on his training session, watching weapons' specialists in order to better teach defense against it to her troops. Now he was doing the same thing: watching her hand-to-hands to teach his recruits defense against it. And her recruits were reacting just as his had…with no subtlety whatsoever.
McCallister snorted, "A bunch of girls gawking at the Major General."
Tifa looked sideways at the plucky little private, measuring her up. "You blame them?"
McCallister looked back at her, one eyebrow raised, "Sorry?"
"Any woman worth her salt would be ashamed not to notice a specimen like him." Tifa carefully concealed her smirk, trying to egg McCallister on.
She was a quirky soldier, and not prone to 'feely' conversation, as Leon put it. Then again, she had been his intern for a few years, so…his stuffiness must have rubbed off on her.
McCallister frowned, closing the notebook she'd been scribbling in. "And any soldier worth her brass doesn't look at her superior officer through such a…vulgar lens."
"Vulgar?" Tifa swallowed her snicker, keeping a straight face. "You think being attracted to someone is vulgar?"
"I apologize for the wording, ma'am." McCallister stood, "But the Major General and I are not equals as he and you are. I can not have an opinion on the matter."
The sudden formality gave Tifa pause and she dropped the teasing tone.
"And what matter are you speaking of…soldier?" She said, mimicking her syntax.
McCallister hesitated, frowned, and ran a hand over her face, closing her eyes. "Permission to be blunt, ma'am."
Tifa glanced over at her recruits, two of which were locked in the final sparring match for the win. While roughly half of the others in the squad were animatedly getting into it, finally, the other half was more or less watching Leon, or at least kept stealing furtive glances over there.
She was starting to appreciate how annoying that was. She looked back to the private.
"Of course, Tabaeus." She bobbed her head.
McCallister paused again, as though trying to talk herself out of what she was about to say. "Widen your gaze." She walked to the end of the row of seats. "The fact of the matter is that I can barely fathom finding someone who gets me like you two get each other…and I've tried, believe me." She swallowed, "Just…why are you fighting it so hard?"
Tifa stared at the other woman for a long moment. So much for 'feely' conversation.
McCallister seemed to sense that she'd spoken out of turn, dipped her head, and walked along the front of the squad, glaring hard at the ones with wandering eyes until the rest of the recruits were watching the final match…as Tifa figured she should be doing now too.
Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, Tifa stood and walked down to the training ground just as her best, a scrappy young woman named Holly Cape, won the final match, pinning her opponent to the ground. The losers hooted for her, though envy was in their eyes.
"Congratulations, Cape, you're dismissed for the day." Tifa glanced over to the bleachers, though Leon had left sometime when she was talking to McCallister. "The rest of you…five miles."
The recruits were all eyes on her now, about time. "Wha—"
"Ten." She said, hands on her hips, unsure why she suddenly felt so annoyed. "Now. Maybe you'll learn to keep your eyes where they should be."
As they started running, Tifa made a mental note not to goad McCallister anymore.
..:-X-:..
124 – You Say Potato
For The Glaistig
Tifa stared at the dish as she slid the fork out of her mouth. This was the third potato casserole that she'd made this afternoon and it was the third one that hadn't been burned black, soupy, or a really weird color. In fact, she pondered as she chewed on a test bite, it was almost…
"LEON!" She looked out of the kitchen.
There was a clatter in the living room and Leon was immediately in the hall, gunblade in hand. "What?"
"Taste this!" She said, gesturing with her fork.
Leon blinked, lowered the gunblade, and eyed her in disbelief. "What?"
"C'mere, taste this. I think I finally got something here." She said, waving him over.
"That's it?" He said. "I thought you'd been shot."
"Sorry, I was just excited…Shot? I'm in the kitchen. Not exactly a battlefield."
"You know what I mean," He waved a hand, "No need to scream, I was just in the other room, woman." He sighed in exasperation.
Tifa paused, then did a little bounce on her heels. "Okay, now c'mere and try this."
"What is 'this'?" He said, setting the gunblade aside now that he knew there was nothing life threatening.
"Potato casserole." She said, offering a fork.
Leon looked wary, and she couldn't really blame him.
"This isn't like the last few times." She said, "But…I've eaten my own cooking attempts so much that I'm not sure if I can recognize good cooking. I'm biased."
He knew she would only bug him until he caved, so she grinned as he just saved them the time and effort and took the fork, eying her suspiciously. Tifa grinned and leaned against the counter to watch the show. Leon scooped a good-sized amount of the fluffy golden casserole, took a moment to steel himself, and took a bite.
Tifa stared hard at him, trying to find a reaction. If she just cooked three casseroles that turned out not to be worth anything, she'd officially throw in the towel. Leon chewed slowly, eyes on the first casserole, expression infuriatingly unreadable. Oh, who took that long to chew one bite? Honestly.
"Well?" She pressed, trying and failing to contain her eagerness.
He looked from the casserole, to Tifa, to the casserole, and swallowed. "It's…"
"Good? Okay? So-so? Not bad?" She said, starting to grimace.
"…It's great." He said, as though conceding a defeat.
Tifa looked at him. "What? Great? Really?" She beamed.
"Have I EVER pretended to like your cooking?"
"No…you've been painfully honest."
"Well…there you go." He said, sticking another forkful of the casserole.
Tifa threw her arms up in the air like a human field goal. "Yes!"
"Congratulations." He said, taking another contemplative bite.
Triumphant victory had taken hold. "I am Tifa, Queen of the Casserole."
"Uh, Your Highness? Your oven's smoking."
"Crap!" She cursed, opening the door and pulling out the blackened dish inside. "I figured if I'd gotten the potato casserole down, I'd try my hand at green bean casserole."
Leon sat up a little straighter, eying the ruined dish. "I'm not trying that one."
Tifa sighed, waving the smoke away from her face. "Okay, so maybe I jumped the gun, but the potato casserole is good! Right?"
He smirked, setting the fork down. "Right." He eyed the other two potato casseroles that she'd made. "I can say I'm really surprised."
"And the condescension is appreciated." She chuckled, smacking his shoulder.
"Pleasantly surprised." He corrected, picking up one of the casseroles. "So now I'm going back to what I was doing before you nearly gave me a heart attack."
Tifa eyed the failed green bean attempt number one with a sigh. Leon followed her eyes and smirked. "Some things never change." He teased, promptly taking one of the casseroles with him back into the living room.
She watched him go and then got out another fork, tasting one of the remaining casseroles herself. Soft, fluffy, and delicious, not a hint of burning or bad combinations.
"Queen of the Casserole." She smiled to herself, ignoring the green beans in order to bask in the glory of victory for once.
..:-X-:..
A/N 123: After the feedback I got from Take Me or Leave Me, I had to write the other side of it. Didn't turn out at all like what I expected, but…I think it's okay. And just to be sure, McCallister does not harbor any 'feelings' for Leon beyond loyalty as his subordinate.
Oh! While on the subject, I'd like to draw your attention to the lovely and talented Kiss of the Breeze, who drew Tabaeus McCallister, giving her a face for the first time ever! Here it is (without the spaces) h tt p: /danger-flammable. deviant art . com /#/d36t9np
Much love and pancakes!
As of right now, my poll for naming this pairing is still open on my profile. I'll be closing it soon though, so if you haven't voted and still want to, please do it soon! I'll post the results on my page after I close it next week sometime.
Lovely prompts, guys. Thanks so much! Please keep 'em coming!