Observations
By: Illusion of the Mirror

Seeing that all her companions were otherwise engaged, Tifa took the opportunity to duck around the corner and into her office. Of course, the term 'office' was applied liberally to the erstwhile maintenance closet; during the renovation of the house into a diner, Tifa had siphoned off this room to be her personal area. Inside, there was just barely enough room to fit a desk, a filing cabinet, a safe, and a rolling chair. There were no windows, being that the room was on the inside of the building, so when inside, Tifa usually opted to leave the door ajar. With the computer on, the air quickly could become stifling.

Placing her rump in the padded seat of the chair, Tifa pondered what Keaton had told her about the symbols that covered the parchment she'd found. If she intended to find out what they said, she would first need to do some research, which meant somehow getting the papers in question from her bedroom to her office undetected, as it housed the only computer she owned.

Thoughtfully drumming her fingers on the pile of paperwork that littered the free space of her desktop, Tifa scanned the multi-colored post-it notes stuck to her computer monitor: her method of reminding herself of things and also how her employees communicated with her if they missed one another. It only took a moment for inspiration to strike, and she began sifting through the organized mess in front of her. She stopped when she found a manila folder labeled 'schedule' and smirked in spite of herself. Perfect.

Tifa reentered the dining room just in time to hear footsteps thundering down the back staircase from the second floor apartment. Seconds later, two young women emerged from the back hallway in a din of laughter, well, one of them was laughing anyway. Melanie, the younger of the roommates, was rarely seen without a smile on her face and enjoyed laughing so much that she seemed to put her whole being into it.

"Good morning, Tifa!" she all but sang, cozying up to her boss and giving her companion a wide berth. "Isn't it just lovely out today?"

"It certainly is," Tifa remarked, giving the short waitress/tenant a onceover. As always, Melanie looked expertly crafted, from her perfect mocha skin and ever-stylish clothing, to her artfully applied make-up and dimpled cheeks.

"I'm pretty sure it's going to rain again later today." This, from Charlotte, Tifa's other waitress and co-renter of the upstairs apartment. She had rounded the counter and was tying a cheerful green apron around her waist; it was the only thing cheerful about her appearance. That task finished, she began securing her lank ashy hair into a knot at the nape of her neck.

Melanie rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her ever-dour roommate. "Well, as long as we get a few hours of sunlight, I'm happy. Hello, Ace." She waved at Aiden, who had risen from his seat next to Yuffie and returned to his post behind the counter. He nodded a greeting with a smile.

As the chipper young lady greeted Marlene and introduced herself to Yuffie, Tifa sidled up to Vincent at the entrance and followed his gaze out the front window. "See anything interesting?" She asked with a hint of a joke in her voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shift ever so slightly and glance briefly down at her before responding.

"Not as yet."

"Well, I guess that's better than the alternative." She smiled up at him with a twinkle in her eye. "Ever the vigilant one, eh, Valentine?"

He didn't respond, not that she'd expected him to, but she took that as an answer in itself. Vincent was not the type who enjoyed being mocked, even in jest. And perhaps she was being ungrateful. Sure, she disliked having to be babysat, but he was looking after her for her own good, to keep her safe. She was about to voice said gratitude when Melanie suddenly brushed past and yanked open the glass-paned front door, setting the bell a-jangle.

"I'll be in later for my shift. Gotta get my nails done and visit my nana." She waved animatedly at Charlotte who nodded imperceptibly over her fresh mug of coffee. "Bye, Char, Ace."

She quickly eyed Vincent before mouthing 'he's cute' to Tifa behind his back with a conspiratorial glint in her eye, and then slipped out the door with a saucy finger-wave.

Tifa cleared her throat to keep from blushing and then turned to Marlene and Yuffie. "Okay girls, I've got what I need for now," she gestured to the manila folder in her hand. "We can head back."

Marlene hopped down from her stool and said goodbye to Aiden who was already cleaning her spot at the counter with a smile. Yuffie, clearly reluctant to leave when she was having such fun flirting with a boy her own age, followed, and to her credit, valiantly masked a sigh. "Alright. Let's mosey."

Tifa cringed inwardly at the use of the phrase she had so often heard from a different member of their group, one that she didn't care to think of at present, but she forced a neutral look and led the others back down the path to her home.

"I like Ace," Marlene stated matter-of-factly as she quickened her pace to match Tifa's. "He makes good chocolate milk. He adds a lot of chocolate."

Tifa smiled and glanced back at Yuffie, who seemed to be nodding in agreement, her fingers threaded behind her head. "He's a good kid," she answered, ruffling the girl's hair. "And the chocolate milk thing's part of the reason I hired him."

Just then, Tifa felt an iron hand on her shoulder and instantly stopped, although the oblivious Yuffie continued on ahead. She turned and shot Vincent a questioning look, but froze when she felt the warning coming off of him in waves. She hissed at Yuffie, who stopped and turned, her own question forming on her lips only to fall silent when she caught on.

All four of them remained motionless; the only sound the wind through the branches above them and the chirping of morning birds. Tifa strained her ears as she scanned all around but could neither hear, nor see anything out of the ordinary. Then Vincent's head snapped to the right and his grip on her shoulder tightened. She followed his gaze and soon heard a rustling in the brush at the edge of the forest.

Tifa realized that if this was an ambush, they were utterly at a disadvantage, being in the open as they were, and gently tugged Marlene behind her, the girl's sneakers skidding on the gravel. Well, whoever it was, they were in for a hell of a fight. Nobody, nobody, was going to hurt her kids.

The rustling grew louder as whatever was hiding drew closer, and Tifa's muscles coiled beneath her skin.

Then, just as suddenly as he had tensed, Vincent relaxed. No sooner had he dropped his hand from Tifa's shoulder, Marlene gasped from behind her hip. "A kitten!"

The girl ran forward a few steps before forcing herself to slow and cautiously advance toward the tiny mewling creature.

"Careful, Marlene," Yuffie admonished mirthfully with a glance in Vincent's direction. "It could be dangerous."

"Don't be silly," the girl cooed as she knelt down and stretched out a hand toward the kitten. "It's only a baby. Now don't be scared. I won't hurt you. That's it. Just come here."

Yuffie left the path and leaned over Marlene's shoulder as she plucked the animal from the brush and clutched it to her chest. "Eh, it's pretty cute, isn't it?"

Together, the two of them returned and Marlene pulled back her hands enough to show Tifa the little gray and black striped kitten. It greedily gulped down air as it slowly calmed under Marlene's gentle stroking. Clearly, it had been as frightened of them as they had been of, well of whatever it might have been.

"I'm going to name her Buttercup," Marlene crooned as she started back toward the house with Yuffie in tow.

"What if it's a boy cat?" Yuffie asked contrarily.

"It isn't."

"But what if it is? What if it's a super manly fighter cat who hates flowers?"

"That's dumb, Yuffie."

Tifa looked back to Vincent and shrugged as she started after the two girls. "Well…it could have been an enemy." She turned back around once she was sure he was following and spent the rest of the trip to the house trying not to think about the way his fingertips had ghosted down her arm after he released her shoulder.

- O -

"Hey, Honey, what do you have there?"Shera, who was sitting in the porch swing sipping a cup of tea called out softly as Marlene rushed past her and into the house, the screen door banging behind her. Yuffie shrugged as she followed the girl inside, letting the door slam once again.

"Ya'll quit that bangin'," an angry voice boomed from one of the upstairs windows. "What were you, raised in a barn?"

Tifa chuckled as she and Vincent climbed the porch steps and smiled apologetically at the pregnant woman in her porch swing. "We found a kitten on the way back."

"Is that so," Shera nodded emphatically with understanding. "Well, all rudeness is forgiven then." She took another dainty sip of her tea.

Tifa paused, gripping the door handle, and shook her head as she heard muffled shouting from the second story hallway and a chorus of slamming doors. "Cid in a mood again?"

Shera hummed in response. "Why do you think I'm outside?"

Just then, the aforementioned pilot appeared on the other side of the screen and not-so-gently gave the door a push before looking up and spying Tifa on the other side. He backed off and rubbed his stubbly chin. "Oh, sorry. I thought…well it doesn't matter." He turned his attention to his wife and shaded his eyes against the mid-morning light filtering in under the porch roof. "Got any more of that tea?"

"In the kitchen," she replied demurely without looking up.

Cid brusquely turned and headed off while mumbling gruffly to himself about 'inconsiderate young'uns,' his knees popping as he went. Tifa noted in passing that he had found his other sock.

Shera rested her teacup on its saucer and placed the setting beside her on the swing. "Seems my old man is suffering from a bit of a hangover this morning."

Tifa smiled agreeably and then opened the door to go inside. She turned to Vincent, who had remained characteristically silent during the full exchange and silently questioned if he was coming too. He answered with a fractional shake of his head and settled himself against one of the support beams holding up the porch roof. 'Okay, suit yourself,' she answered inwardly.

Once inside, she could hear somewhat of a commotion coming from the next room, and as she climbed the stairs on her way to her bedroom, she stopped to peer through the kitchen doorway. Inside, she could see Yuffie fussing as Marlene sloshed milk over the side of a saucer placed on the floor in front of the fridge. Barret was gingerly holding the newest addition to their little family, clearly given the task by his daughter, his huge hands ridiculous in contrast to the tiny kitten. He looked utterly uncomfortable with the arrangement; as though he was frightened he might crush or drop the creature. Cid was playfully back-sassing Yuffie and Marlene by turns, clearly amused by the spectacle as he sipped a cup of lukewarm tea.

A grin bubbled its way up from Tifa's chest and settled on her lips as she turned to continue up to her room.

After lightly shutting her door behind her so as to not attract attention, Tifa crossed to her dresser and knelt down, sliding the bottom drawer open gently. If asked, she couldn't say what made her exhibit such caution, but at the time, it almost seemed mandatory. Slowly, with sturdy hands, she pulled the cigar box from its nest in her winter scarves and mittens, her aging silk robe still firmly wound around it and the key she had found.

Carefully, she unraveled the package, briefly glancing at the door to double-check that it was closed. Once unbound, the heavy metal key fell into her open hand and she diverted her full attention to it, setting the box down next to her as she crossed her legs in front of her. She turned the key over in her reverent fingers, marveling at the craftsmanship: the smoothness of the shaft, the graceful criss-cross pattern of the head. And it was large, too; large enough she couldn't conceal it in a single hand.

As she continued her soundless admiration, Tifa's eyes drifted shut. She traced the key's outline over and over, the metal warming subtly under her touch. She didn't question why she was so fascinated, so transfixed, but allowed her mind to drift, as if meditating, the key a fixed point in her deliberate darkness.

But the longer she sat there in complete silence, still but for the ministrations of her fingertips, the warmer the room seemed to become, the warmer the key grew in her hands. A familiar and pervading static began to hiss in her ears, this time accompanied by faint voices. Tifa immediately tensed, her hands halting but didn't open her eyes, intent on placing the words being said.
…run…not safe…afraid…run…they are coming.

Suddenly, the key became scalding, fairly sizzling between the pads of her fingers, and Tifa yelped as she dropped it. It landed with a resounding thud, not even bouncing off the wooden flooring.

Tifa's eyes were wide open now and she gently sucked her burned fingers as she glared down at the key. Suspiciously, she nudged it with her toe, and finding it no longer hot, braved reaching down to pick it up with her unoffended hand. It was completely cool.

'What the hell was that about?' She demanded silently of the guilty party. The key remained idle in her palm, as innocuous as any other hunk of metal. She didn't take her eyes off of it as she leaned over and slid the manila folder off the bed where she had left it, didn't tear her gaze away even after she had placed it back in the drawer, its dark gray contrasting with the multicolored yarn scarf it sat on. She remained that way for a good long moment, waiting for something to happen.

But it didn't. Tifa glanced down at her fingers. They looked just fine, didn't hurt anymore, but she was positive the key had burned her. Realizing that the entire scenario was absurd, Tifa shut the drawer, a little harder than she had to if she'd admit it, and turned her attention to the cigar box next to her knee.

- O -

"Alright," Tifa murmured to herself as she reached behind the computer monitor to click the on button. "Let's get started, shall we?"

As she waited for the tower to load, Tifa pulled her office door almost all the way shut, leaving a scant inch of space; she didn't want to be caught doing…well, whatever this was. She flipped open the top of her 'Schedule' folder to reveal the top few pages of parchment she had attempted to smooth and then hidden within. So all she had to do is find out which alphabet the author had used. That couldn't be too hard, right?

Tifa logged on to her account and continued to wait for her desktop to load.

After a quick inventory of the kitchen cabinets revealed that groceries were in high demand, Shera had volunteered Cid and herself to go fetch some, claiming, "We've been eating you out of house and home! The least we could do is replace some of what we've taken." Tifa highly doubted that Shera would be anything less than over-generous in the replacing of said food, but gratefully agreed. Yuffie had suggested they make a field-trip of it, but Tifa had begged off, claiming to need to return to her office for some bullshit reason.

So it was decided, since no one party could be left alone in this dangerous hour, Yuffie and a rather begrudging Denzel would accompany the Highwinds on a grocery run and Barret, Vincent, Marlene and Buttercup would tag along to babysit Tifa. That wasn't the term anyone had used, of course, but it was certainly how Tifa felt. She was a big girl and had proven on many occasions she could protect herself, and others, for that matter. Try as she might to remain thankful, she was really starting to chafe at being constantly followed. In two days there had been absolutely no sign of her attackers.

Still, she had admonished herself several times, reminding herself that it was better than the lonely alternative of having no one to hound her at every turn.

Currently, Barret and Vincent were waiting at one of the two outside picnic tables as Marlene no doubt showered her kitten with abundant affection. It was clear that Barret wasn't precisely warm to the idea of having a cat around his house, but it had always been difficult for him to say no to the girl, especially when she turned the full force of those huge, misty brown eyes on him and practically begged. They all found that amusing, even if no one was brave enough to say so in the heat of the moment.

Once the desktop was fully lit and loaded, Tifa glanced at the clock in the corner; it was just after one. She wasn't all that hungry yet, but had made sure to order for the others before ducking into her office, glad to see that business had picked up since she'd been in last. Nearly all of the booths were filled and a couple of commuters watched the mounted television in the corner from their seats at the counter as they ate their various fried foods. Tifa had to admit, she liked running a breakfast and weekend diner much more than a bar. She preferred the family friendly atmosphere. Plus, she hadn't had to throw anyone out on their ear since the move, so that was nice.

She double-clicked the internet browser icon and silently praised herself for opting to go with DSL rather than dial-up. 'Okay. Let's do this.'

- O -

Outside, just as Tifa had pictured, Vincent and Barret sat at the picnic table farthest from the diner's front door while Marlene sat in the grass and dangled an old shoelace she had found over her kitten's head, quietly squealing when it took the bait. Barret was sitting on the table part of the bench, his back hunched, elbows on his knees, hands idly picking at his fingernails as he watched his daughter. "Ain't that just prime," he intoned low enough that only Vincent could hear. "Guess I got myself a cat now."

His dark companion nodded as he looked on from the opposite end of the bench, facing out ward with his back and elbows braced on the tabletop. "Prime," he agreed.

"Don't suppose you could've found a sports car instead? Or a new sound system? I coulda used one of those."

If he hadn't been watching from his peripheral, Barret would have missed the slight smile that graced the gunman's face. "I do apologize for any inconvenience."

The large black man sighed, shaking his head and chuckled. "Ah, well. Maybe it'll be good for 'em, having a pet around." He frowned and added, "Marlene, anyway. Doubt Denzel'll even notice."

They sat in companionable silence for a little while as Marlene sang some made-up song to her kitten and the clink of cutlery and other general eatery noises wafted out from the slightly open windows of the diner. A young man and what looked to be his son opened the front door and started back to their car; the boy waved and smiled at Marlene as he passed. She smiled back and helped Buttercup to wave. The kitten squirmed and mewled in defiance.

Barret ran a beefy hand over his braided hair and sighed again, anxiousness evident in his posture.

"Something on your mind." This from Vincent. It was a statement, not a question.

When he looked up, Vincent was meeting his gaze, patiently waiting for a response: well he could have been impatiently waiting, but Barret was damned if he could tell the difference in the man's subtle facial expressions.

"Yeah. There is actually." He angled himself towards the man even though he didn't think Marlene could hear them talking, just to be safe. "Why'd you do it? You said yourself only a fool would take the job."

Vincent turned his gaze back in Marlene's direction but settled his eyes on the forest across the road that ran by them. "So I did."

Barret sighed again, sitting up straight and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You know what that implies, don'tcha."

"Hm." The gunman didn't move a muscle, and when it became clear he wasn't going to continue, Barret decided that enough was enough. He wasn't the type of man to dance around the issue, and Vincent had damn well known him long enough to figure that out.

"So I get it. You're a dangerous man, you been bored, you fancy a challenge. You figure with your skill you won't get caught, or hell, maybe you think you will, but, hey, that's fine, you got nothing they can take from you but your life." He scanned his companions face for any sign he'd hit the mark, but saw none and decided to continue.

"But now you find out that you do got somethin' to lose. A pretty big somethin.' A somethin' that would be just as devastated to lose you." He paused and pulled in a calming breath. "You're a smart man, Vince. I ain't never met anybody who thinks things through the way you do. You're a planner…and a plotter, never leave nothin' to chance. And I hope you take that as a compliment," he punctuated his statement with a pronounced point in the other man's direction.

"But this was a dumbass move, comin' to Tifa's. You knew they were on your ass and you led 'em right to her." He was getting angry again, so Barret counted out a good thirty seconds before going on, keeping an eye on Vincent for any trace of a reaction.

He started again, quieter this time, but no less adamant. "That ain't like you, Vince. And you know Darknation. As soon as they find Tifa, they find the kids, they find me, they find Cid and Shera and Yuffie and Red and, hell, maybe they even get to Cloud before any of us have even heard from him."

Now that had an effect. At the mention of their mutual blonde absentee acquaintance, Vincent's jaw tensed, his eyes hardening on the trees. Barret took that as a sign he was getting through. 'Good,' he thought, 'Let's hope he takes the rest of what I gotta say so well.'

"So here's the way I'm seein' it. Either you did what you did knowin' exactly what was at stake, stoppin' at Tifa's knowin' full well how much danger that'd put her in, which makes you not just a damn fool, but also an unfeeling asshole. Or…"

He stopped there, hoping to drive home his words. "Or, you never planned to stop at Tifa's in the first place."

For a moment, Barret feared his friend had perhaps gone catatonic, but then Vincent slowly turned and fixed him with heated crimson eyes, the contrast of the long black hair framing his pale face making him seem all the more severe under the intensity of the afternoon sun.

Barret allowed himself an inward cheer; he'd hit paydirt. He was getting good at that.

"So why'd you come here, Vincent? Why'd you risk it?"

Vincent sat silent for a long minute, seeming to weigh all possible responses in his mind. Barret listened idly to Marlene's playful chatter but didn't avert his eyes. He was getting somewhere and had no intention of giving in.

"Honestly, Barret…" The gunman sat back, looking up into the endless blue sky and Barret felt a small measure of relief at no longer being under his full scrutiny. "I've been asking myself that since day one and have yet to come up with an answer that satisfies me."

"Maybe that's cause the answer ain't somethin' you'd find satisfyin'." Barret looked down at his crossed arms and then let them drop to his sides before sliding down to sit on the bench opposite Vincent. "Well. You think on it then. It'll come to you, I'm sure. Cause I know you ain't an unfeelin' asshole, no matter how you may argue that point."

Marlene was now laying back in the grass, her shoes discarded on the ground next to her, the kitten lying on her chest as she pointed out patterns in the ever drifting clouds. Barret didn't take his eyes off of his precious girl as he added, "I know Tifa. And I know she's already forgiven you for this heapa trouble you got her into. That's her way. And I'm glad she can do it. But I gotta think on me and mine. Tifa can take care of herself when she needs to, but the kids, they're the ones in real danger."

He reached across the table and grabbed hold of Vincent's shoulder, causing the man to turn and look him in the eye. "And we don't got the luxury of stayin' out of it anymore."

Vincent's gaze dropped to the tabletop and idly traced the wooden slats. "I never told you to bring them."

"You never told me not to, but that's not important now. What is important is that we find a way to get Darknation off all our asses as soon as possible."

Vincent shrugged out from under Barret's hand and turned forward once more. "Is this an ultimatum, then?"

"Naw, man," Barret sat back and crossed his arms back over his chest, as he so often did when deep in thought about something he had no hope of changing. "Just an observation."

- O -

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