One Short Lived Victory

So we do thank them, by Tifa attempting to cook with them. And what's she cooking? A cake.

We all should've known this wouldn't have gone over well.

...at all...

I myself have never been the best of cooks, as Denzel and Marlene have reminded me one too many times. Tifa, however, is a cooking goddess. I don't understand how she does it. It's gotten to the point where she doesn't even take measurements, she just pours.

That use to scare me before I realized she knew what she was doing.

But this...this is scarier.

At this moment, Denzel is holding an egg in both hands, Marlene perched precariously on a stool stirring batter. Denzel has no experience in the kitchen what so ever, though Marlene has a bit. Still, Tifa is scrambling between the two, and I lightly wonder if even the cooking goddess Tifa can handle this one.

Splat!

Nope, seems not.

Denzel has dropped the egg. He's looking up at me and Tifa, surprised.

"Denzel!"

He mumbles sheepishly, "I thought it didn't break until you wanted it too."

I feel my mouth twitch, but luckily Denzel is looking down. Tifa places a hand on his shoulder, smiling.

"It's okay sweetie." She lifts him up beneath the arms, and sits on the counter top. He's embarrassed, this is a feat he feels he could've accomplished himself. I catch Tifa smiling at him, but something catches my eye. It looks like she's in pain, her lips pressed tightly together. I notice a hand on her shoulder.

There's no way she could've hurt herself lifting Denzel up, right?

But then she's away again, acting normal. I shrug inwardly, trying to convince myself I'd just saw something that didn't happen.

Denzel is leaning over the bowl, Tifa has her hands over his and she's cracking the egg gently. She helps him drop the yolk in without the shell falling, and Marlene giggles.

And I see why.

She's stuck her finger in the batter and has smeared a long line down Denzel's nose. He's gaping in shock.

"That's for putting the frog in my bed." She states.

"You put a frog in her bed! When!" Tifa cries out.

But it's too late.

Denzel has dug his hand into the batter and scooped out a sizable amount. He tosses it at Marlene, Marlene ducks...and...Tifa...

...well, as I said before, I knew this couldn't end well.

I begin to wonder if Tifa could reach an anger level surpassing the 'flying panties'.

She sits in silence a moment, wiping the batter from her face with everyone frozen and afraid to move.

Then faster than I thought possible, there's a glob of batter in Denzel's face, another in Marlene's, and Tifa's taken off with the bowl.

This is not good.

Denzel and Marlene are shocked, but recover quickly, seeing Tifa's target.

Me.

I run for the stairs, but she cuts me off.

I back up quickly, tripping over a chair, never turning my back. It discourages me slightly that Denzel and Marlene are rooting for Tifa. Only slightly though.

I've almost made it to the door.

"Oh no, Cloud Strife! If I suffer, you suffer!" She shouts, triumph in her voice.

She hurled the bowl at me.

Tifa just threw a bowl at me, and not just any bowl, but a bowl full of cake batter.

She threw a bloody bowl at me!

Well, I mean, I know it won't hurt me, I know I can dodge it, but still! Who throws bowls?

I hear it thwack against the door as I raise back up, I can't keep from smiling slightly at my victory.

But then I see Tifa's eyes for just a split second.

The reason I only see them for a split second is because of the batter slapping against my face obscuring my vision. I see now she'd taken a handful out of the bowl before chucking it at me. Oh, she's good, very good.

She's smiling at me, still laughing, and Denzel and Marlene are rolling on the floor with laughter.

"What...what about the cake?" Denzel breathes between laughs.

"We'll make another one!" Marlene concludes.

"Chocolate this time!"

I see Tifa give a defeated sigh as I walk over.

"What?" She asks, seeing my perplexed look.

"You act like you were the one that lost." I say plainly.

"Well, don't think I didn't see that look of victory in your eyes, Mr. Strife." She says, poking my chest once.

I reach up, swiping my hand across my face in an effort to hide my blush, disguising it as cleaning my face till I gain my composure. I look down at her, my blush receded.

She reaches up, smearing a hand across my face, laughing.

"Missed a spot." She says walking away, the blush creeping back up my face.

Man...that was one short lived victory.

A/N: Eghad! It's been a while, no? I've been busy and haven't had much time for writing. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! That line about Denzel with the egg, it's a quote from my sister...she did that once when we were little. Anyways! Did you get the little thing about Cloud's short lived victory? yes one for the batter (That's obvious) but the other for the blush. He just can't keep his face a normal color when Tifa's around...ah well, till next time! And as always, thanks for awesome reviews!