Chapter 11

"So, you're saying that it was the flowers that healed her?" He rubbed his beard speculatively, with a thoughtful frown.

"Yes, Aeris's flowers." She repeated, leaning back into her pillows.

The good-looking, older gentleman currently sitting across from her, tended to make time for those five very special people who had fought for the world, especially the woman currently lying in bed in front of him. With his age and the position he had been in with Shinra, in which he mostly observed (since no one truly listened to him), he could tell that Tifa was a special person with a rare heart. If anyone needed special attention, it was her, not because she needed it, but because she deserved it. So, it wasn't unnatural for him to make his secretaries rework his schedules just to make time for these people. He wasn't close to any of them, especially since they really only knew him as Caith Sith, but that really didn't change how he felt about them, despite his unique position.

Accordingly, his first stop of his day was to the Seventh Heaven at an hour of the day that was obviously not something that they usually saw. Yuffie had curled up next to Tifa on her bed, hovering on the brink of sleep, and twitching every once in a while as her body tried its best to return to slumber. Cloud leaned against the wall near the door with his arms crossed, his hair slightly matted from sleep which gave him some semblance of normal locks. The woman their topic partially concerned slept on in the den, having returned to it after she answered the door and woke the others; and Tifa had stayed in bed, allowing the others into her room.

"Hmm…" Reeve appeared to be thinking as he leaned forward in the chair beside the bed with a supporting hand on his knee. "So, you think that this could be a cure for Geostigma?"

Tifa did her best not to sigh loudly. She wondered just how many times he was going to rephrase this. "Yes, I do."

He looked at her then, "And what would you like me to do about it…? I know that ShinRa isn't exactly high on your favorable list."

She pursed her lips and folded her hands above her stomach, "I know, but… isn't this worth it? If there's some way that ShinRa and all of its resources could somehow find a way to cure all those people with Geostigma in the most effective way… then, then it shouldn't matter." She looked him in the eye, "I trust you Reeve Tuesti, and I'm trying to ask you if you think that it can be done without destroying all those flowers and her church?" She looked down at her hands, "Saving people is important… but so is keeping those flowers… to us." Tifa looked over at Cloud who met her eyes with gratitude.

Reeve nodded in understanding, reclining, and flicking a glance towards the other man. "Once Rufus gets wind of this, he's going to want to go in and dig everything up, before or after he's picked every single flower to experiment on. The church will be defiled, and more than likely the flowers will never grow again... He certainly has a tendency to kill things." He crossed his arms and inclined his head, as if he could see exactly such a thing happening.

"You wouldn't tell him… would you?" Tifa's brow knitted. "I mean… you don't really work for him anymore…"

Reeve looked back at her with raised eyebrows, "Miss Lockhart, do you truly believe I could do such a thing?"

Tifa blushed and shook her head, "No…" She still hated ShinRa, very much so, and she realized with sadness that she still wouldn't trust Reeve completely, even if he was the one in charge of WRO and had pretty much told Rufus to shove it. "But what can you do without letting him know?"

The older man smirked at her, "Simple. I keep it secret."

She quietly chuckled, feeling tension drain from around her heart. It was still filled with worry and uncertainty, but the overriding feeling of hope remained above it all. Tifa looked down at Yuffie next to her and gently brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead. "What can you promise me?"

Reeve made another thoughtful noise and looked up towards the ceiling, pausing while he thought it over in his head. "I can promise you, that I will do my best to keep the sanctity of the church and will only study the specimens that you allow me." He smiled warmly at her, in a way that strongly reminded her of her father.

Tifa studied him, thinking of all the oily smiles that ShinRa employees had once donned continually as they reassured the public of their safety and the harmlessness of their methods. Reeve didn't have one of those, instead he had a genial smile, not too big to seem forced and not toothy. It reached his dark eyes and lit his face. He made her want to smile again too, and he succeeded as she nodded. "I accept."

"You're a bright woman, Tifa. I'm glad that you thought of using the flowers in this way."

"Actually, it was Vincent who suggested it." Tifa supplied warmly, dismissing his compliment with a shake of her head.

Reeve couldn't help the surprised expression, "Vincent? Well… I guess that shouldn't surprise me. He was a Turk after all, and a very good one at that."

Cloud, visibly agitated, took this moment to leave the room at the mention of Vincent; everyone, but a sleeping Yuffie, paused and listened as his boots thudded heavily down the stairs. Reeve looked behind him where Cloud had stood, then back at Tifa, noting her down-turned face and slightly sullen expression. He inwardly chuckled at the young couple; they were so easy to read. If he had to bet money, he'd say that Vincent was becoming a bit of a rival to Cloud and from the expression on the fair maiden's face, he'd guess that she knew it too.

"Well, my dear," Reeve began to rise from his chair, "I must get going. I'm glad that you are feeling better. You certainly have plenty of people to care for you." He winked as he turned to leave.

"Thank you," She answered softly, "And please… head to the church and pick a few flowers, just to get the research started, but... just a few." Tifa held his eye meaningfully, trying to convey to him that she would try her best to put aside his affiliation with ShinRa. He nodded with a smile and excused himself from her room.

She waited until she heard the front door shut behind him with eyes closed and a deep breath before gathering the will power to heave herself out of bed. Her head was much clearer today than what it had been just last night and she smiled to herself as she knew that she had a certain childhood friend to thank for that. Tifa slid her pale feet into slippers and shuffled into her bathroom for a long, relaxing shower; leaving Yuffie to softly snore towards the wall.

The new, pale yellow walls made her feel cold as she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. After the burning heat of the fever, however, the cool air felt good on her skin and she disrobed with a small measure of relief as she moved to prepare her shower. She was very happy for the new coat of paint that graced her bathroom walls. Paint wasn't exactly a common commodity within Edge, in fact only Mr. Fimmel carried it, merely because people were really more worried about having structure in their lives than pretty walls and pictures. To her though, it provided a small refuge from the oppressive gray of the outside world; it was enough to see bright, happy colors instead of feeling it.

The bar maid with the alluring eyes and sleek, toned body looked at herself in the mirror above the sink, not cognizant of the dark beauty she was graced with. When she saw herself like this, standing in the nude as the hot water induced a warm fog around the cold mirror, all of her appraising attention went to the clean, thin scar running across her chest. Pearly, scar tissue raced from near the top right of her left breast down to beneath her right one, gleaming in the light. It was thin, mother-of-pearl in color, and remained to remind her of the hell she escaped.

Tifa shut her eyes painfully, reaching up to gingerly brush her fingertips along the length of Masamune's bite. Her town had been completely destroyed that night… everyone… killed. Then ShinRa, had the audacity to re-make it, as if it'd fix everything, as if everyone she had ever known hadn't existed, like a figment of yet another nightmare… Her chest had burned when it was slashed open, burned like her home… like her neighbors… like her friends… her father…

Her fingers began to curl, her nails pressing into her flesh around the scar – she wanted to rip it away from her skin. This thing that Sephiroth gave her… she wanted to scratch it away, tear it from her skin, create something of her own doing, and not his. Her breath came quickly and her eyes focused on her hand poised to ruin her skin, but when she noticed her face in the mirror, she held her breath and her hand froze above her heart. Her face was dark, empty, and hateful. Her eyes looked black, hooded by a lowered, ugly brow, and her mouth was clenched, her lips slightly parted to bare her teeth. Tifa dropped her hand to her side and bowed her head. She wondered if she'd ever be able to let this go too. Her other hand came up to her face, hiding its ugliness from her reflection. Then it rubbed briskly, as if to wipe away the hate and the darkness. When she raised her head again, she was grateful for the condensation that had misted over the mirror.

She turned and climbed into the shower without another glance, enjoying the burning water as it sluiced down her reddening skin. She went through her usual motions with a heavy, raw heart; scrubbing hard at her skin, especially around her chest. Her shower was short as usual, and by the time she was out, Yuffie was still asleep on her bed and all was silent throughout the rest of the house. It was barely 10 a.m. when she looked at the clock and with a gurgling stomach, she decided, with a changing mood, that breakfast was in order.

Cloud wasn't to be seen downstairs, but a note on the counter written with his small handwriting let her know that he was out on a delivery somewhere. Without missing a beat or a second thought, she pulled out eggs, flour, butter, and milk among other things and began to cook. She wasn't a bad cook, in fact, some people other than Barret called her good. However, it was a skill learned more for necessity than actual enjoyment; not to say that she didn't like to cook, she just preferred not to when she had the opportunity.

"That will wake her up, you know."

Tifa nearly sent the eggs in her hands flying above her head as she jerked, hard, in surprise at the sudden, low, voice from behind her. She whirled around and glared at the caped man, nearly breaking said eggs in her tightening fists. "Don't do that!" She admonished with a hiss. "You're always coming out of no where!"

Vincent merely looked at her, like a puppy that was paying full attention to his mistress, but just didn't seem to understand what she was going on about; devilishly innocent. He leaned against the counter behind her, with his arms crossed, and what may have been an amused smirk.

"And what do you mean?" She huffed and turned back to her pan, cracking the eggs and dropping them in to fry, filling the air with the sizzling sound of breakfast cooking.

"You're going to wake her up with the smell of food."

Tifa looked over her shoulder at him as if he was being absurd, then by the growing anxiety-filled expression on his face, she realized he was speaking of Yuffie. She nearly laughed at the idea that the unflappable Vincent Valentine was unnerved by a tiny, little ninja girl... or at least what remained of one, she had grown into a woman quite a bit.

"Oh, come now, that wouldn't be so bad?" She teased with a grin, adding salt and a ground pepper onto the sizzling eggs, moving gracefully over to finish stirring the batter for the pancakes. She didn't expect an answer and wasn't surprised when she didn't receive one. Tifa didn't realize that she had started to hum during her ministrations at the stove. It would have made any normal bystander wonder if she truly enjoyed dropping slices of bacon onto a skillet, deftly avoiding the occasional popping of burning oil.

When the humming stopped, her hands stilled, the cooking sounds kept on in the otherwise quiet kitchen, and she asked, "Hey… Vincent. Why is it… that you've been coming around so often?" She swore that she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head. She didn't dare turn around. She flipped over a pancake.

Honestly, she really had no idea what made her ask that. Perhaps, she thought, that the fever had burned away a few brain cells – at least the ones needed in order to think around the stoic man. Almost a month ago, after nearly a year without hearing a word from him, he suddenly appeared at her bar, calm and collected as can be, and just as incredibly handsome as he had been two years ago. Then he came more frequently, always unannounced, always late, and always making her frustrated with confusion. And the looks. Oh, the looks. If she had been able to have conversations with him just from his looks alone, she could have written books. And the touches. Perhaps it was merely this new found awareness of him, but it seemed that he touched her whenever he could. They were merely slight brushes, mere whispers of contact, but she felt it. She could feel his heat. In this way, he wound her up so much that she felt like she could burst.

"To see you."

Tifa's eyes widened; she couldn't hear the sizzling anymore. Vincent was a dastardly indirect, but blunt man, and yet here he was: surprising her by answering, and shocking her by answering it directly.

She slowly turned around, searching Vincent's eyes, trying to find whatever he was not telling her. Her lips pursed to form a syllable when her name suddenly rang out through the bar.

"TIFA! That smells delicious!" A currently, wide-awake Yuffie stood at the door with a large grin on her face, completely shattering the moment that had wrapped up the other two.

The barmaid blinked rapidly, as she turned back to her occupation, quickly turning over the cakes she had neglected. Tifa hastily made herself busy, deciding to start putting away ingredients by grabbing the bag of flour and quickly turning around, only to ram into a solid, wall of broad chest, sending white flour up in a cloud. Vincent had soundlessly crept closer until he was directly behind her and now loomed over her… utterly covered with flour.

There was a pregnant paused before Yuffie was laughing hysterically, clutching her stomach and pounding the wall with her palm. Tifa grimaced and began apologizing, doing her best to dust him off. He suddenly grabbed her wrist.

"May I use your shower?"

She nodded dimly; watching as he quickly retired the kitchen and ascended the staircase, passing Yuffie who was currently gasping for air in-between guffaws on the floor. With a flushed face, Tifa immediately began to clean up the mess of flour on the floor, counters, and on her arms. She frowned at Yuffie as the girl did her best to calm herself, gulping air she shakily pulled herself up from the floorboards.

"That… was… amazing." She eventually wheezed, sprawling her arms over the counter.

"All right, Yuffie, that's enough," Tifa said with her stern, maternal voice, "Come here and help me by watching the food, while I clean this."

Yuffie agreed, recounting the event several times from her point of view as if Tifa hadn't actually been there, bringing on a fresh bout of laughter, which might have ended badly if Tifa hadn't saved the tipping pan of hot grease.

The young Wutai woman teased Tifa mercilessly as she flipped pancakes. Then suddenly, Yuffie's laughter ceased. Tifa heard the other girl's sharp intake of breath and turned in curiosity, nearly dropping her dish towel. They both watched as Vincent came down the stairs, without his bandana, without his mantle, without his boots, or his socks, or his shirt… glistening in some areas from the shower. His wet hair hung around his face, pasting itself onto his pale skin and routinely sending small trails of water down his bare, broad chest. Tifa was trying her utter hardest not to think of indecencies at the moment, but in this situation, it was nearly impossible to look at Vincent Valentine and not. Never, had she seen him in such a way, never even imagined it, and despite his obvious good looks, had never even begun to think of doing so.

"I placed my things in your washer… if you don't mind." He fixed his dark eyes on Tifa, but that wasn't what she was watching. His lips had her transfixed, and not just because they were very, quite well formed, but because she rarely saw them – and watching them move right now, was making her feel not like herself.

She found herself nodding with a blush, before swiftly turning herself away and reaching for the fridge, half tempted to reach over and close Yuffie's dropped jaw. The poor girl was rooted to the spot, eyes wide, mouth open, and increasingly turning a fine shade of pink. Vincent wasn't incredibly muscular, at least not with sculpted muscles or anything, but the shape was evident beneath his skin. His shoulders were broad and his hips were narrow, laddered with tight abdominal muscles and striped with a faint line of black hair starting at his belly button and disappearing beneath his pants.

Without the cowl and bandana, among other things, the man that stood before them almost seemed like a different person. This man didn't scare away women, this man could have them flocking, begging for his touch, and any which way he chose. This man was currently walking towards Tifa intently, his hair falling sexily into his intense eyes, and if she wasn't already mentally cursing her hormones, she would have sworn he had one corner of his mouth raised with a small smile.

Tifa couldn't help herself and let her eyes roam over his body, gulping, and suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

"Oh. Dear. God."

AN: Phew! Finally! I thought I'd never get this chapter done. I honestly had no real direction when I wrote this; it all just came out and developed as I went along. I did want to get back to Tifa though, at least get back into her head about her own inner demons, and I hope that the scene in front of the mirror helped show some of those emotions that she has locked away.

This definitely isn't the Vincent/Tifa scene I was hinting at before, that won't be for several more chapters, but I felt that the situation between these two just needed another little nudge. ;)

The chapters should be coming a lot faster now, since most of them are written already and just need some decent segues. So, the end is near everyone! Thanks for staying with me. :)