Small Miracles

By: Illusion of the Mirror

"Is it ever going to stop raining?" Yuffie moaned, forehead pressed up against back door, arms limply hanging at her sides.

"Probably," Tifa responded with a smile, eyes following the potato she deftly sliced. "Though I doubt whining at the window will coax the clouds into submission."

Shera hummed in agreement, the sharp chop-chopping of her knife on the cutting board echoing through the kitchen. She paused in her work and swept her pile of sliced carrots to one side. "A watched pot never boils, Yuffie. But you can come help me shell these peas if you're bored."

The young brunette pushed herself away from the door and lurched across the tiled floor. "I don't wanna shell peas," she muttered as she plopped down into a wooden chair to do just that.

Tifa chuckled as she dropped the last bit of diced potato into the metal mixing bowl wedged between her knees. "Sometimes, Yuffie, we have to do things we don't want to." She stood, lifting the bowl in one arm and set a basket of fresh peas in the ninja's lap. "Now shell."

"Can I cut the next carrot, Aunt Shera?" Marlene had volunteered to toss a homemade salad with two comically long-handled spoons, but had apparently grown tired of the task. She nudged at the older woman's arm expectantly.

"Here, Marlene, why don't you help me slice some celery." With her free hand, Tifa pulled a second wooden cutting board from the drying rack by the sink. "Do you know how?"

"Yup!" the girl replied, reaching for a cleaver that jutted out from the knife block in front of her.

"Oh no, honey," Shera replied quickly as she stopped Marlene's hand. "Here, use this one." She passed the girl a paring knife, shooting Tifa an amused smile.

"But it's so small." Marlene pouted until Shera began to demonstrate how to slice correctly. The girl beamed when she took the knife in hand and made her first cut. "See, Tifa? I'm doing it!"

Tifa kissed her on the cheek. "You sure are, sweetie." After placing her burden on the counter she wiped her hands off on a ragged dishtowel and began to dice a small white onion. "So, Shera, you were telling me about Cid's new business venture."

"Well, Cid had had his eye on the old machine shop in town for some time now and he finally convinced the owner to sell a couple of months ago." Shera continued as she began to carve a considerable hunk of raw chuck roast into bite-size pieces. "After hiring a few mechanics he was able to expand the business from merely selling parts to doing repairs and the like. He's pleased as punch with the whole affair, though he would most likely call it nuisance if asked." She smiled gently to herself and paused to gather the meat and sprinkle it with a mixture of salt, pepper, and flour

"It all sounds very thrilling," Yuffie averred in monotone.

Shera ignored the jibe gracefully, moving to the stove. "So what have you been up to recently, Yuffie?"

"Oh, you know…this and that." The young ninja grinned cheekily and put her bowl aside. "But don't worry. I've been behaving myself…more or less."

Marlene finished in her careful cutting and turned, eager to join the conversation. "Yuffie was in town visiting friends and asked Daddy if she could stay over a few days."

"These 'friends' wouldn't happen to be the thieving kind?" Tifa asked, gathering the celery and carrots into a heaping pile and bringing the entire cutting board to Shera.

"No. Well, not currently anyway. We mostly just get together to have a few drinks and talk treasure."

Shera snorted over the sound of her sizzling beef and browning vegetables. "Like alcoholics getting together to discuss whiskey."

Tifa let loose a bark of laughter and Yuffie gave an exaggerated shrug. "Fair point," she grinned. "But at least my vice won't kill me."

- O -

Tentative digits danced above the pair of cards held in Cid's hand. The pilot huffed out an impatient sigh. "C'mon, Spitfire, you're burnin' daylight."

Yuffie, who had been biting her lip in concentration, met Cid's gaze, brows drawn in a powerful frown. "Don't rush me, old man." She lightly brushed the edge of the right and then the left card, alternating between studying his face through squinted lids and attempting to psychically divine his hand through sheer force of will.

"It's night now, Uncle Cid," Marlene stated matter-of-factly, legs cross as she sorted through the pile of paired off cards in front of her. "And Yuffie just doesn't want to be the old maid again."

Tifa stifled a snigger as Yuffie briefly turned the full intensity of her grimace on the oblivious seven year old. She and Barret had opted out of this round of old maid, owning that five hands were more than enough. Yuffie, however, was determined to break her losing streak and had bullied Cid into three more rounds, though it hadn't taken much effort on her part. Marlene was along for the ride, thrilled to be in the league with the adults.

A wistful smile parted Tifa's lips as she gazed contently into the fire blazing in the great stone hearth, lazily tracing circles across the coarse thread of the area rug beneath them. Supper had been fantastic. Not because Shera was an excellent cook, though that was most certainly an accepted truth, but because there were so many mouths to feed, so many precious bodies to cram into the empty spaces that had previously been filled with regret and pain.

They ran out of garlic bread and Tifa had gone rifling through the cabinets only to find a stale half-loaf of sliced sourdough, which was converted into sourdough toast and consumed almost as quickly.

Cid and Yuffie played tug-of-war with the salad spoons, toppling Marlene's orange juice in the process. Plates were lifted, condiments relocated, and a dozen hands hurriedly mopped at the pulpy liquid steadily spreading across the ancient mahogany table Tifa had so delightedly discovered in the spare room.

Denzel picked the peas out of his stew, despite Yuffie's complaints that he was negating all her hard work. Cid accidently set his elbow in the butter, failing to notice until he'd successfully greased the entire side of his jacket. Shera felt the baby kick. Red told a corny joke.

And all throughout, Tifa had giggled and grinned, cajoled and teased. It was all so chaotic and unplanned and blissfully, inherently normal. Laughter drowned out the torrential rain and washed through her like pounding surf, overwhelming and emancipating all at once. Each smile freely given, each accidental brush of skin, each playful nudge and guileless jibe; they were a balm on her spirit.

Suddenly, Tifa was yanked from her reverie as Yuffie cleared her throat emphatically. "Alright! I have come to a decision!"

"Finally!" Cid groused, a new toothpick balanced precariously on his lip.

Barret, who had been seated on the couch behind Tifa, leaned forward, apparently having been awoken from a catnap. "Spirits, ya'll are still playing?"

Marlene crawled up onto the couch and nuzzled her father's arm, wrapping thin arms around his middle. "Almost done, Daddy."

Yuffie sighed, brushed her bangs from her eyes and, with a flourish, reached for the left card only to have Cid pull away, her fingers closing on thin air. "Hey, what's the big idea?" she squawked hotly.

"Yer takin' so long my hand's crampin' up." The pilot switched the cards to his left hand, shaking out and stretching the right. "There. That's much better."

The young ninja simply stared, eyes nearly bulging from her head as they flicked from one card to the other. Then suddenly they narrowed and she leaned forward, knuckles white as she gripped the corner of the woolen blanket she had draped across her shoulders. "You did that on purpose, you crusty, reeking sonovabitch."

"You shouldn't curse," Marlene interjected quietly, face buried in Barret's chest.

Cid smirked. "Yeah, princess. There are kids in the room, after all."

Utterly amused, it seemed to Tifa as though every muscle in Yuffie's body was coiled and ready to launch her at the blonde pilot. 'Maybe I should interject…'

"Just pick a damn card, already!" Barret half-whispered, half-growled. He murmured an apology to his daughter as she admonished him wordlessly.

Yuffie fixed him with a withering glare and snatched a card from Cid's outstretched hand without so much as a glance back. She huffed and then dropped her gaze.

Everyone else remained perfectly still as the Wutai warrior sat stone-faced, her ears and neck reddening. She let out a long breath through her nose and let her eyes fall shut. Tifa looked from Barret to a shrugging Cid and then returned her attentions to Yuffie as the thief slowly set down her cards and opened her eyes.

"You okay?" Tifa asked, genuine concern etched in the lines of her face.

"Yes," the girl locked eyes with her and flipped the cards face up to reveal a pair of twos. "More than fine!" she beamed.

Tifa snickered as Cid tossed his card to the floor and the Queen of Hearts stared longingly up at the ceiling. "Pretty convincing acting there, Yuf."

Yuffie sat a bit straighter and grinned while suppressing a yawn, her expression morphing almost into a feral snarl with the strain. "I've been practicing my bluff. I'm getting better but what I really need to work on is calling other people on theirs. Cid here's good practice."

The pilot groaned as he hoisted himself up off the floor. "Well, it was a pleasure stompin' you at cards, but I think I'm gonna head to bed. The missus is probably already asleep."

"I beat you, Cid."

"Yeah. Sure. One out of eight. Quite the streak." He nodded to Barret, who was rising with Marlene in his arms and then saluted Tifa. "G'night, Tif. Get some sleep, okay?"

Tifa helped the ninja to her feet as the girl stuck out her tongue at the pilot's retreating back. "So," she chuckled. "You and Marlene want to join me in the big bed tonight?"

The young girl hummed an affirmative from her father's embrace and Yuffie smiled tiredly. "Sounds good to me. C'mere, Mar."

"I told you not to call me that," Marlene objected dourly as she allowed herself to be transferred to Yuffie's outstretched arms.

"Yeah, whatever."

- O -

The first time Tifa woke, it was half past eleven. Yuffie, dynamic even in sleep, had somehow managed to take up half of the oversized king mattress, her knee wedged firmly against Tifa's back. After a series of calculatedly miniscule movements, Tifa was able to maneuver herself away before turning over to face the ninja with her cheek propped against her hand. Gently, she reached out and smoothed a few dark stands of hair from the girl's face, idly wondering at her peaceful expression.

Thunder rumbled somewhere far off and Tifa rolled onto her back, gaze settling blankly on the pool of shadow that engulfed the paneled ceiling. She allowed the steady thudding of rain to lull her back into slumber.

The second time, she was roused by a groggy whisper. "Tifa…"

"Hm," she replied, opening sleep-heavy eyes. She looked down to find Marlene's arm draped across her middle and reached up to stroke the young-girl's face. "What is it, Sweetie."

Marlene leaned into the caress before answering, her half-lidded eyes glinting in the dark. "I'm thirsty. But I'm scared to go downstairs."

Tifa smiled sleepily, breathing in the girl's strawberry and lilac scent. She had insisted on sampling Tifa's various lotions before bed. "That's okay, Marlene. I'll get some for you."

After a bit of finagling, Tifa was able to get free of the twisted sheets and straining comforter and shifted her weight as she crawled over Marlene so as not to smush the girl. Sliding off the edge of the bed, she searched for her slippers with outstretched toes, finally finding them beneath the footboard. She tugged them on and shuffled wearily to the door.

Making sure not to close it all the way, Tifa pulled on the robe she'd grabbed from the hook on the back of the door. Darkness shrouded the hall, emanating up from the lower level and congealing in the corners. She was still able to make out silhouettes, however, so with a yawn Tifa made her way to the stairs and descended as silently as she could manage. Luckily, the sound of the rain was enough to drown out the groans of the ancient staircase.

Upon reaching the bottom, Tifa paused to glance into the living room where Vincent was supposedly sleeping on the couch, the plush blanket he had been given still folded up on the coffee table. She couldn't see him in the blackness, but could feel his presence nonetheless.

She passed noiselessly into the kitchen and made her way to the cabinet which held the glasses. Raindrops pattered hollowly against the picture window above the sink and Tifa could almost make out a tune as she filled a small plastic cup with water. Finished with the task, she turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin as one of the shadows in the room moved.

"My apologies, Tifa. I did not intend to frighten you."

Tifa's heart raced as she mopped the water that had sloshed from the glass off her arm with the corner of her robe. "You never do, Vincent. But you're still very good at it."

She could almost hear his smirk. "So it would seem."

Now that she knew he was there, Tifa could plainly make out Vincent's form where he sat at the table, bathed in shadow. She crossed over and lowered her drowsy body into the chair next to him. She gestured to the now half-empty cup in her hand. "Marlene was thirsty," she said by way of explanation.

"I see."

Tifa waited a beat before asking, "Couldn't sleep?"

A pause. "I heard you come down the stairs."

"Oh…well, I'm sorry I woke you."

It seemed an hour they sat that way, facing each other in the darkness without making eye contact, before Vincent spoke.

"Tifa...I…want to apologize."

She looked up at him and found him staring off to her left somewhere as he continued haltingly.

"You were right, I should have told you of the danger you were in." Then he shook his head and met her eyes. "No. I should never have come here to begin with."

Tifa placed Marlene's water on the table and tried her best not to sigh.

"It was my hubris that brought this to your doorstep." He broke eye-contact and Tifa realized she'd been holding her breath. "I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I-"

Tifa held up a cautionary finger, mouth set in a firm line. "Vincent, don't. Don't do that."

His eyebrow raised and he started again. "I-"

"I know what you'll say, Vincent. And I'm telling you not to say it."

He set his jaw then, stiffening in his chair. "You will not accept my apology?"

"Oh, I accept your apology alright, but I won't listen to you sit there and self-deprecate. And you know what? I'm not sorry you came here."

He was looking straight at her, brows drawn in a grimace. But he was listening. 'And I'll be damned if I stop now.'

"It's been awful living here on my own. This house is huge and old and empty and full of memories that are just always there reminding me how alone I am. I've just been living each day like the last, waiting for something to happen, for some spark to catch. And Vincent…" She leaned forward and covered his hand with her own. "If you hadn't come…I'd still be waiting."

"So if you really, truly want to make it up to me, please…don't regret that."

Tifa gazed up into his face searching for any betrayal of emotion, trying to ignore the way his fingers twitched beneath her palm. She was used to this: used to giving pep talks and admonitions. But Vincent didn't turn away, didn't make excuses, didn't shrug off her touch. He simply watched her, an indiscernible fire smoldering in his eyes. He was letting her finish. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

That,she was not used to.

"You're not omnipotent, Vincent. Maybe you had a hunch, but you didn't know what would happen. And if you spend your time fixating on things you can't control…you miss out on the things you can."

Familiar hot pinpricks formed behind her eyes, threatening tears, but she steeled herself to them, concentrating to keep a quaver from her voice. "As to your apology? I forgave you the instant you told me. All that's left is for you to forgive yourself."

All right. That was it. She had said her piece. But with every second that ticked by she was becoming acutely more aware of their proximity to one another: the rise and fall of his chest, the soft gusts of breath through his nostrils, the way her hand tingled where her skin touched his.

Finally, Vincent spoke, expression somehow softening, though Tifa couldn't have described it if you asked.

"Thank you."

Tifa smiled then, more with relief than anything else. "Of course, Vincent. What are friends for?" She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before sitting up in her chair. She didn't remove it though. For some reason, she wasn't willing to pull away just yet.

"So, I, Tifa Lockhart, hereby absolve you, Vincent Valentine, of any guilt regarding myself or those things that are beyond mortal control, such as reading the future." She cocked her head to one side and raised her eyebrows. "No more angsting. Agreed?"

The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Very well."

"Okay, good," Tifa sighed and made to remove her hand from his.

But before she could grab Marlene's water glass, Vincent's own hand reached out and gripped her finger tips. Tifa gasped before she could stop herself. She watched, transfixed as he slowly raised her hand to his lips, pausing a moment, breath ghosting out against her skin, making her shiver, before laying a tender kiss across the back of her knuckles. His eyes never left hers.

"Sleep well, Tifa."

And with that, he rose from his chair and swept out of the room in one fluid motion, leaving Tifa gaping in the darkness, utterly at a loss. She rose woodenly and then stole up the stairs to her room, having forgotten all about the half-full cup of water on the kitchen table.

- O -

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