The Warrior

Yes, it's finally here.

Chapter 9

Tifa stared incredulously. The helm sailed towards her, eliciting a jump as it hit her in the hands. She bobbled the offending object before securing it under her arm.

Her eyes lifted alertly, but Sephiroth had not moved and gave no indication of doing so. He was light years away, but for a small flicker of something across his face. A memory perhaps, but it couldn't be placed and he merely looked through her.

"Why?" Tifa demanded. "Why protect me?"

Sephiroth's gaze returned sharply to focus, sucking the breath right out of her as she was suddenly swallowed in his full attention. His shoulders rose and fell with a lazy sort of indifference, "Why not?"

She blinked, uncomprehending. "Because—" Tifa cast about for something to make sense. "You're not supposed to protect me."

He leveled her with condescending scowl, "According to whom?"

Her brow furrowed angrily, "According to me!' She snapped.

The retort bounced harmlessly off his implacable lack of interest, "A pity, then, that yours is not the pivotal judgment on which my decisions are made." He returned and set off down the passage.

She fumed at his back before running after him with a shout, "Hey!" He stopped at the sound of her voice and turned, facing her as she skidded to a halt with barely a foot to spare between them. Her breath hitched in her throat and what she was about to say died on her lips.

Sephiroth arched an elegant brow, "Yes?"

Tifa's eyes dilated, "I…you're not going to tell anyone?" She couldn't stop staring at his mouth, a fact he was bound to notice.

His expression seemed weary and he contained a sigh, "No." He said, and he did notice.

"Why not?" She asked breathlessly. "You know better than anyone what the ramifications for hiding a spy must be."

"You a spy?" He inquired with a half smirk.

Her lips thinned as she debated whether or not she should be insulted by that. "Well I could be!" She stated indignantly.

Sephiroth turned back around and resumed walking. "Even if you are, I'm finding it difficult to be very concerned about it."

Okay, now she was insulted. "What's that supposed to mean?!" Tifa asked shrilly and quickened her step to keep pace with his longer stride.

He lifted a gloved hand to his temples, "It means that I couldn't care less what becomes of Shin-Ra."

All her righteous anger deflated in a puff of smoke with a wispy little, "Oh." She watched the ground go by under her boots, brooding. "I see."

"No, you do not," was the austere reply.

A thought occurred to her, "You don't seem very surprised."

There was a long, distinct pause, punctuated by the rhythmic gait of his boots on stone. "About what?" His tone was bored.

"About the fact that I'm a woman." She clarified. "I thought I'd been doing a fairly decent job of hiding it up till now."

Sephiroth made an inarticulate sound, "If I'd not been suitably surprised you would never have broken my hold back there. As it were, you're lucky to be alive."

"Luck is not the word I'd use…" She muttered, despite knowing that he was probably right, and that she really didn't want to die.

A subtle twitch of his head was the only indication that he'd heard her, but she didn't notice and he chose not to call her out. "People will see what they expect to see." He said.

"Do you?" She implored.

"I don't really give a damn."

Tifa scoffed, "I don't believe that." And nearly ran into his back. She recovered with a quick back-step and peered up at the man in the dark – there was a faint glow in his eyes that made her shiver, she didn't know why.

Sephiroth's gaze sharpened intently, "And why not?"

Her hands went to her hips, "You're still here aren't you?"

"Ah," He gave her an indulgent smile laced with sarcasm, "but you were just leaving I believe." Then he swept to the side, flourishing his hand towards the old rusted ladder that was behind him.

Tifa glared back at him coolly.

"Wouldn't want to invite any unnecessary question, now would we?" Sephiroth enquired suggestively. "Angeal will be awaiting your report with baited breath I'm sure."

Her shoulders squared in defiance as she spoke, "But I haven't finished—"

Sephiroth advanced a step, cutting the words short as they lodged in her throat. His breath tickled her cheeks as he towered over her, inviting a blush that spread from her throat to her hairline. When she tried to retreat, he pursued, until her back somehow bumped against cold steel bars and she gasped.

How had he cornered so smoothly without her noticing?

"Yes, you are." He advised.

Tifa nodded without thinking and her heart beat a little faster, but she didn't move. She had thought after all that had happened that he was incapable of causing her fear, but evidently she had been wrong. The sheer force of will that radiated from him was tangible to the skin, curling around her with a powerful grace.

A man like that was every sort of frightening. And yet, that ethereal gaze held her without fail, drawing her into the dark chasm beyond like a curious child, unwilling to give up on hope. Her thoughts floundered in his wake in ways that she'd never experienced and for one fleeting moment she wondered what it would be like to be surrounded by that sort of strength, to be embraced by a being so capable of destruction, and not be afraid, but be safe instead.

The silence stretched and somewhere an echo of steel on stone broke the moment. Sephiroth blinked, as if coming to his senses, and gestured sharply with his sword towards the ladder.

Tifa left in haste, slamming her helm back on her head, the warm sensation still stirring in the pit of her stomach as she scrambled up the ladder. Her mind whirled from the implications behind that traitorous feeling and she gnashed her teeth at it. The very thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She tried to ignore the dull ache in her fingers as she wrapped them around the frigid metal bars. Her under suit had absorbed so much water, she felt twice as heavy and cold. Only the constant exertion from climbing kept her joints moving.

There was no light, no indication that she'd reached the top until she felt with her hands the manhole cover that was in place above her. She gave it an experimental push and budged it only a little. Her breath trickled out tiredly as she sagged against the wall.

What was he doing down there she wondered? She would have to find out because she had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't company business.

Tifa sighed, dragging her mind from its preoccupation, and readied herself to try again at the manhole cover. She braced her feet, straightening so that her shoulder was pressed up against the underside of the slab of steel. Then she pushed.

Her legs burned for all their worth, straining beneath the great weight as it slowly inched upwards. She slipped her hands into the gap and gripped the edge, adding her arm strength. It lifted off easily after that and she was able to push it aside and climb out into an open street and sprinkling rain.

It was not an empty street. There were cars parked to the side and people watching as the uniformed blue SOLDIER crawled up out of the manhole and slid the cover back on. She was just in time to avoid the truck speeding down the road straight towards her.

She did not, however, avoid the spray as its tires struck a puddle and added insult to injury. Tifa bit back an angry word and looked down at herself with disgust. Her uniform really wasn't blue anymore now that she thought about it. It was more a putrid shade of green with a touch of mucky brown.

Judging by the variety of strange glances she was getting from the peanut gallery, they didn't recognize her either. Well, they could stare all they wanted. She was going back to HQ to take a shower and change her clothes.

Tifa started walking. It seemed to take forever getting to the train station. She felt a slight, but constant tremor in her bones that made each step sluggish. It was all she could do just to put one foot in front of the other and when she finally found herself boarding the train she could scarcely remember how she'd gotten there.

At least it was warm in the railcar. It sparked some life in her, though not enough for her to keep her eyes open a she settled in her seat. She ignored the dirty look the steward gave her as water streamed off her filthy clothes. A puddle gathered at her feet as she slept.

When the train pulled into Shin-Ra HQ Tifa was barely conscious. If it wasn't for the horn that regularly blew when coming into stop, she would have been there all night. She came to her feet with a start at the resounding blast and stumbled down the aisle half-dazed.

She made a small effort to wring out her clothes so that she wasn't dripping all over the first floor lobby. Not that anyone but the cleaning robots were ever responsible for mopping up, but she didn't want to carry the extra weight around or leave a trail of sewage water.

The receptionist that manned the desk after hours gave her a horrified glance as she passed but, seeing that Tifa was in no mood for chit chat, said nothing. Tifa lumbered up the stairs, her boots thudding particularly loud tonight. Then she was waiting at the elevators, because once again they were both in use – it never failed.

A minute later the doors popped open with a delightful ding, spilling out one very startled red headed Turk.

"Woah," He said, stopping short with a grimace. "What dung heap did you crawl out of?"

It was her first time seeing Reno of the Turks in person. She only knew it was him because no one else had red hair like that and she'd been listening in on conversations. He gave her a wide berth, wrinkling his nose, and disappeared down the stairs.

Tifa entered the elevator and dug out her log. She was almost afraid to look at it. To her great surprise it appeared to be undamaged by its lengthy dunk into sewage water. Top notch technology indeed.

She wiped the screen down a bit and logged in for the night, just in case. Ostensibly it was to let her superior officer know that she had returned unharmed and that all was in order, but whether Angeal checked these things was anyone's guess.

Then again, Sephiroth did say he'd be waiting for a report.

The elevator stopped twice, but no one had deemed their task important enough to risk stepping inside with her. She really must reek if it was that bad. They'd be waiting a long time.

Tifa was never more relieved to see her room when she slumped through the door. The night was young however, and she still had much to do. There was no time for rest and recuperation for a spy.

It was near midnight when Tifa emerged into the hall again, dressed in her old, but new, foot soldier uniform, and feeling a great deal cleaner. The other one would probably be out of commission for a few days and it was better that she disguise herself for what she was about to do.

She had made a promise that she now had to scavenge some manner of proof to keep. Whether she could get what she needed from the few places she had access to she didn't know, but she had to try. Some part of her had determined that Sephiroth's office was a prime candidate for investigation, even though she'd spent more than enough time in there to know that there was nothing in it worth investigating.

By the time the elevator came to a halt on his floor the lights were darkened completely. Her timing was just right. She crept along the wall quietly, her back slightly hunched.

Finding Sephiroth's office proved more difficult than she had anticipated. She ended up at a dead end, scowling at it accusingly. Everything looked different in the damn dark.

She tried the door to her right and was summarily stunned when it opened. Her eyes skimmed along the shadows of objects. It was a spacious room, containing only a desk, guest chair, and what she had to guess were two filing cabinets.

Whose room it was she had no idea, but she was here now and she might not get another chance like this, so she went in.

Tifa had no idea what sort of security measures were in place. She hadn't seen any cameras in the offices she'd been to, but that didn't necessarily mean there weren't any. She had to hope that whatever footage they revealed would be too limited to identify her.

There was a computer on the desk. The screen was black, but the light was on so she gave the mouse a tap. Immediately the screen lit up and prompted for username and password. The former was already filled in; Tseng.

He was leader of the Turks, if she remembered right.

Her eyes skimmed across the screen for a half a second longer and she turned her attention to the file cabinets. They were locked, though it was nothing a firm punch wouldn't pop open easily. It was a question of risk for gain. Was it worth it to break in if there was nothing of value inside?

She debated for a while, poking around the rest of the office in case something else jumped out at her. It turned out that there was, in the shape of a folder on his desk with the Shin-Ra logo pasted on the front. She'd carried many of similar nature over the course of the several days she had been cleaning Sephiroth's office. Most of them had yielded nothing of importance.

Tifa picked up the folder and flipped the cover open. Her eyes squinted down at the first page in the dark – there was a photo, but she couldn't make it out and had to use the light from the computer monitor. Her blood froze as the profile came into focus.

It was a picture of Zack.

A large red stamp had been haphazardly pasted across the page; TERMINATED. The date was only a few days ago. Her heart stopped.

How could that be? He had disappeared years ago. Denial fought against the jagged edge of failure and guilt. He'd been alive all this time, and now he was dead, while she toiled away uselessly in this wretched place.

She flipped through the pages, searching for the photo that wasn't there. Cloud had been with Zack the last she saw him, but that had been five years ago. Had they escaped and split up in that time? Or had Cloud never made it out?

There was no mention of him, which allowed her a queer sort of hope.

Tifa felt the familiar sting in her eyes as she set the folder back down. For a long time she didn't move. Her gaze remained fixed on the face from her memory.

It shouldn't have bothered her. She hadn't even known Zack, had ignored him for the most part because he hadn't been Cloud. Yet she remembered him so clearly now, and it hurt. She'd blamed him like she did everybody else back then, but he didn't deserve this.

How had the world become so twisted in its values that the ones who cared the most were the first to die? How had it all gone so wrong? It made her sick inside.

Tifa left Tseng's office quickly and tried not to dwell on what she'd discovered.

Sephiroth's office was not so hard to find on the way back. It was also unlocked. She slipped inside and crossed the room, heard a frantic squeak from the vicinity of her boot as she was taking a step, and did a two-and-a-half gainer to avoid a grisly accident with the furry little rodent scurrying across her path. Her hip slammed into the corner of his desk and Tifa stumbled around it with a whimper.

She really was not very good at subterfuge.

A fresh pile of paperwork had collected on the desk's surface. She wondered when he would get around to having someone clean it up again. Most of it would be useless to Avalanche so she really didn't know why she was here, except that his was one of the only offices she could get into.

It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that she was beginning to find him interesting.

Tifa rifled through the papers for a bit and lamented her lack of a flashlight. If she could actually see she might find something useful, but she was reduced yet again to squinting under the vague light of a computer monitor. She noted that Chaka's desktop had not yet been removed – had Sephiroth even noticed it?

The skittering of tiny feet and the nibbling of paper distracted her. Tifa slumped into the neglected office chair and leaned her head back, listening and wondering. What was she even doing here?

Her fingers slid up beneath her visor, pushing her helm back as she wove them through her hair.

She sorted through the stacks half-heartedly some more. When she was done with that, she perused his drawers purely out of curiosity. They were all empty except for one, and that one was so big as to make insignificant the square, flat little picture that lay face down in the bottom of it.

A name was scrawled across the back, Lucrecia, and a note: "I thought you should have this. —Angeal"

Tifa pried it off the drawer bottom and flipped it over in her hand. A woman smiled from the snapshot through eyes that didn't quite reflect her happy expression. Tifa frowned pensively. There was something familiar about her.

A sound from the hall sent a ripple up her spine and she dropped the picture. Five seconds later the office door was sliding open. Tifa dove under the desk, clipped her elbow on the edge, and bit her lip to keep from crying out.

The sound of footsteps, firm and deliberate, approached the desk. Then they inexplicably stopped, followed by a quiet outburst of, "Out of the way."

Tifa held her breath.

There was an irritated grumble, "I have nothing for you tonight." Sephiroth said. "Bugger off."

The footsteps resumed their course as Tifa peered up at the empty space above to the right of the chair in front of her, waiting grimly for her downfall. Another step and she could just make out the toe of his boot.

They were black leather, the edge of his trench coat swirling around his calf as he came to a stop beside the chair. He was looking through the papers on the desk, as if searching for something. Then he stopped. She could hear his measured breathing and a soft exhale as something drew his attention.

Tifa inched forward slightly, peaking out beneath the edge of the desk. He was gazing down at the chair with a peculiar gleam in his eyes. It was the kind of gleam that implied he might sit down, which could only end in disaster with her currently crammed in all of the leg space.

Oh he can't be thinking what I think he is…

Oh he was.

Sephiroth looked down at the chair, debating. Really, it was his chair and already Chaka had sat in it more than he had. Maybe, just one more time… He was on the verge of reaching a decision when his sanity reared its head with an acute feeling of embarrassment.

What on earth was he doing?

A gruff, dismissive grunt passed over his lips then and he turned away. "Idiot…" He muttered and then he was about to leave.

Suddenly he pulled up short. Tifa sucked in a sharp breath, biting her lip.

"What in the hell…?"

Tifa's eyes widened in abject horror as fear paralyzed every nerve-ending in her body. She couldn't move – there was nowhere to run if she could have.

There was a long pregnant pause and then a deep rumble, "Chaka."

Her brow furrowed. What?

"That boy needs himself a hobby…" Sephiroth muttered.

Oh. Well that answered her earlier question. He definitely hadn't noticed the desktop. She allowed herself a spell of relief, which was abruptly cut short when the mako glow of his eyes appeared below the edge of the desk, looking straight at her.

"And what have we here?" He asked.

Her lips parted as she pressed herself as far back as she could go into the desk and poured out nonsensical words, "I told him not to!"

He arched a single brow, "You know of this debauchery?"

Tifa winced, "There was nothing I could do."

"And you thought you'd slip into my office to fix it at—" Sephiroth glanced at a concealed watch before looking back at her pointedly, "12:45 in the morning?"

"That's right." She replied and inwardly cringed. If he didn't know her lie, than he was an even greater fool than she.

A sound strangely like a chuckle emerged from his chest. It was deep, almost melodic. "I see." He mused quietly and straightened. "Then I trust you'll have this 'fixed' before you leave here tonight."

Tifa couldn't fight the venomous frown that warred itself onto her face. That conniving bastard! She should've known better. "Can't you fix it yourself?"

"Why should I when there is such a…charming volunteer so perfectly willing to do it for me?" He asked with more than a little cheek, and stalked away from the desk. "Careful you don't get caught. I'd hate to lose my personal assistant."

Her mouth fell open indignantly and she scrambled out from under the desk, "What do you mean?" Panic welled in her throat. He couldn't possibly intend for her to spend even more time with him!

Sephiroth was almost to the door when he stopped and let his head fall back with a sigh, "You are violating curfew, along with roughly fifty other regulations that would be grounds for your execution." He whirled around to face her. "Therefore, in exchange for your life you will be my assistant for as long as I deem it necessary."

Tifa felt her hands ball into fists at her sides. Then she did something that surprised her. "Then you're taking me with you when you go into the sewers."

He scowled. "I will do no such thing."

"I'm sure Shin-Ra would be pleased to know that you're protecting a spy." She returned icily. "And don't think I would't throw my life away just to see you burn."

His expression shifted at that and he considered her thoughtfully, "Yes, I believe you would." He agreed softly. "Very well. You may accompany me in the future."

Then he was gone, as if the conversation had never happened. As she stood there, Tifa had to wonder herself if she had been dreaming. He must have recognized her, but what was his game?

Her gaze drifted idly back to the screen of his computer.

Chaka's buxom babes were looking back at her with superficial grins and very little clothing. Tifa rolled her eyes and sat down reluctantly. She really didn't know much about computers. The basics she'd learned in her early Shin-Ra training, oddly enough. Everyone had to be decently efficient with technology, and decent was a stretch where she was concerned.

Her lips curved into a wicked smile. She'd fix it alright, she thought. She'd fix it quite nicely.

Sephiroth roamed the halls, quietly plotting Chaka's downfall. Perhaps he'd get a hold of the explicit magazines the boy loved so dearly. Then he'd post the pictures all over Director Lazard's office walls. Better yet, the President's wall.

But that wasn't near so interesting as his newfound infatuation with the girl he had, for reasons unknown to him, taken under his wing. He was not accustomed to being so felicitous towards others, especially of the feminine variety. There was just something about her that he couldn't let go of.

A noise from down the hall disrupted his train of thought and he stopped, waiting. The sound of footsteps approached with great care and attention. Not enough to get by him, but it was a noble effort.

Perhaps Professor Lowell's materia thief had come back for seconds. That would be perfect – Sephiroth could put an end to the scientist's incessant nagging.

Uniform blue of SOLDIER 3rd class flashed into view. The little thief barely avoided colliding with him and scrambled back at the last moment with a loud squeak. Sephiroth reached out and snatched the offending party up by the collar.

His SOLDIERs did not squeak.

"Name." He commanded.

There was a long pause, followed by an indiscernible mumble and a great deal of squirming.

"Now." Sephiroth barked.

"Murphy! Murphy!" The SOLDIER piped up, before adding a belated, "Sir."

Murphy?

Something sticking out from behind the SOLDIER's back caught Sephiroth's attention and he leaned over, eying it suspiciously. It was a blade of some kind – a very bizarre blade, like a giant shuriken. He'd never seen the like.

"What is that ridiculous thing on your back?" He inquired dubiously.

Murphy huffed, "Ridiculous?! Why you –" If he wasn't prepubescent, he was a female in drag. "I'm Wutai's greatest warrior!"

Wait a minute… Sephiroth's eyes narrowed a fraction and pain twisted in his gust. It was an old memory – something a friend had related to him once years ago about a devious little treasure hunter. Could it be…?

"Urp, I mean, uh, Wutai's second greatest warrior!" Murphy corrected loudly. "Cause ya know, that Yuffie is sooo powerful, I wanna be just like her, heh heh."

"I see." He returned flatly. "And would this Yuffie happen to carry an oversized shuriken on her back too?"

"N-no way!" But her voice was already faltering. "I mean, yeah, but, it's way better than mine. Can I go now?"

Sephiroth released the uniform and lifted a hand to his aching sinuses. "Go. Before I change my mind."

That is for you, Zack…

"Don't know what you're talkin' about." The so called SOLDIER chimed in as she bounded away.

Wutai's greatest warrior indeed... How did she get in here he wondered? Never mind – the people in charge were idiots. Shinra was crawling with a bunch of cross-dressing spies.

Tifa crept up the stairs in the dark. Using her stolen key card, she climbed to floor 71; urban development. There was every kind of map imaginable of the city of Midgar stored there – maps that would show the entire framework of the city, maintenance tunnels, sewage ways, reactors….

Everything was shut off on the floor, from the lights to the cleaning bots. It allowed her to rest a little easier as she roamed the halls in search of her query. There was a large room in the middle of the floor with a perfect small scale model of the Midgar kept current by whoever was in charge.

Tifa was turning the corner when a warm body hurled into her from the other direction. A yelp and an eep reverberated off the walls simultaneously as they bounced back from one another, both on the verge of bolting at the slightest provocation.

No one moved, hands twitching and breath held. They sized each other up; boots, uniform and helm. Long seconds passed. Nothing happened.

One pair of shoulders slackened an inch, then the other. A few more shaky breaths and the nervous tension trickled away into nervous relief. Neither was apparently apt to call out the other.

"Uh, I won't tell if you won't?" said the shorter and slighter of the two.

Tifa just nodded, though she scarcely understood what was happening.

"Watch where yer goin', huh?" The SOLDIER griped in passing and disappeared down the hall from which Tifa had come.

She stood there for a second or two, unable to move as she waited patiently for her brain to catch up with the proceedings. A single question hovered in the forefront of her mind.

What the hell had just happened?

Nibelheim. It was always Nibelheim.

Why did it always have to be Nibelheim?

There was something different though. The buildings weren't on fire and sun baked the cobblestones, but that wasn't it. It was that wretched girl, only she wasn't' a girl, she was a boy again, judging from the good sized lump in his pants. That wasn't right at all.

Of course not, to have otherwise might actually quantify a good dream, and Gods forbid him having one of those.

The dream had taken it upon itself to make the boy's sex slightly ambiguous even then however. Far more ambiguous than the look he was currently giving him, which was more than just a bit unnerving. Not near as unnerving as finding himself tied to a stake in the middle of the courtyard with his coat and armor missing, but unnerving.

Sephiroth glanced down apprehensively and felt a tiny rush of relief that his pants were still there.

"I've been waiting a long time for this." The boy that was not a boy said in a tone dripping with sultry suggestion. He was circling the stake like the hunter.

Sephiroth felt something close to panic inching its way up his spine. "…what?"

The boy grinned with that full, girlish mouth as a stray lock of deep brown hair brushed his left cheek, "Oh I think you know." He said and flicked the lock of hair aside.

Deep profound horror clenched in his gut. This couldn't be happening, he reasoned. This wasn't happening. He hadn't been to Nibelheim in five years!

The boy began to approach, hips swaying gently like no man's ever could as he ran his tongue over his lips. He dropped his hands to his trousers slowly…

Sephiroth saw his life flash before his eyes.

His eyes snapped open to a cold, dark room as he lay on his bed and gazed up at an empty ceiling. He lifted his head slowly and examined himself – he had fallen asleep in his uniform. Nothing else was amiss however and that was the important thing.

With a sigh his head fell back onto the pillows. All things cinsidered, he preferred being burned alive.

She was under the desk. He knew she was under the desk, but she couldn't move to save her life, which it very well may come down to. Every time she tried it was as if there was some outward force pushing her back in. The harder she struggled, the stronger it resisted.

And for some inane reason, she was covered in sewage scented paper Mache.

Then he was standing above her, his coat and armor missing and daisies woven in his hair. Her eyes kept straying to his chest, along his shoulders and down his muscled forearms. Even in her own dream she was not allowed the luxury of controlling where her eyes roved.

He knelt to the floor beside her, eyes boring expectantly into her face, "Why aren't you cleaning my desk?" He asked.

Her heart stopped. What was he doing to her? Something nefarious no doubt, but it was making her skin shiver with delight.

"I'm hiding." She answered.

There were magazine clippings of naked ladies on the wall behind him. Her eyes widened – they were rubbing his quite naked body with fuzzy pink bunnies. She wrinkled her nose.

Sephiroth didn't move. One of the flowers was perilously close to tumbling free, but he didn't seem to notice. Then he was explaining to her about the papers on his desk and how if they just stuck them onto her it should clean up both messes at the same time. They could even use some of the perfumed magazine clippings to get rid of the smell.

He stood up with a horrified shriek suddenly. She turned her head towards the ruckus and saw Soldier the cat stalking the mice. There was a giant block of cheese the size of a chair on guard in front of the mouse hole.

Then Sephiroth was hacking off pieces of cheese with the masamune and trying to feed it to the cat to deter him from the mice. It seemed to be working, until the cat started talking in Angeal's voice.

Tifa was still under the desk covered in Shin-Ra white paper and trying to locate the town of Avalanche on the woman map of Midgar when she finally woke up.

Her eyes opened with an audible groan as she drew the back of her hand across her forehead. She stared up at the ceiling in steadfast refusal of her dream's suggestions. Sephiroth did not attract her at all. He was a murdering psychopath and that was the end of it.

She really needed to get to sleep earlier.

Satisfied with this conclusion, Tifa sat up and gazed about the room. It was going to be a very long day and she intended to get an early start

Getting dressed was making a stab at prolonging her day indefinitely however. Her under suit was wet. It did not pull on easily when wet. In fact, it didn't pull on at all.

Oh this was bad.

Tifa fidgeted around hopelessly for a moment before throwing the whole thing aside and running a hand through her hair dejectedly. This was incredibly bad. How was she supposed to get by if she couldn't put on her suit?

Her eyes strayed to the bag of her street clothes. She nibbled her lip thoughtfully. If she dressed up as someone else completely, she might make it out of the building with no one being the wiser. It was getting back in that would prove difficult.

Well, she thought, that's why we have the stairs.

She could get by for one day. Nobody knew what she really looked like, besides Sephiroth at any rate, because her profile picture had been forged, obviously. They wouldn't suspect a woman anyway – it wasn't like the building was completely off limits to civilians.

With that in mind she got dressed and packed her things. Then she took a deep breath and opened her door, staying to one side of it. She made a quick sweep of the hall, listened, and sprinted for the stairs. The breakfast hour had started 15 minutes ago so everyone was already gone.

Tifa dove into the stairwell and slammed her back against the wall as the door shut. The largest hurdle had been jumped. Now she just had to climb down 45 stairs. She straightened and gave her neck a twist – it could be worse.

Twenty minutes later she was walking away from Shin-HQ. She boarded the train and sagged into the first empty seat she could find. Air billowed out of her lungs and she closed her eyes.

She didn't stir until the automated sign flashed Sector 7 on the approach. The manhole she had come up yesterday had been in Sector 7 and was the closest to Avalanche's secret passage that she knew of. She was on her feet as soon as the train grinded to a halt.

It wasn't raining today she noted as she stepped down onto the platform. That at least was in her favor. Her gloves felt a little creaky and smelled like rot – not a particularly pleasant odor, but they would have to do until she could purchase a replacement pair.

A flash of gold brought her to a screeching halt. There was no reason for her to notice it. She'd seen blond people before, but her head jerked up so sharply she gave herself whiplash.

…Because it was a man with spiked blond hair sitting on the ground, his back propped up against a light post. He wore a SOLDIER first class uniform with a giant sword draped across his knees. There was only one person in the world she knew with hair that could defy gravity to that extent.

Her mind went numb. She stepped towards him uncertainly, heart hammering against her chest as she dared to hope. Her footsteps came to a timid halt a few feet away as the man turned his head and met her gaze.

Everything came hurling to a standstill.

His eyes were as blue as she remembered from that night when he had come to her, too late, but as brave as anything. They seemed to waiver, as if he wasn't sure of what he saw or if what he saw should be someone familiar. He looked at her, she looked at him.

Her throat tightened a little, "Cloud?"

The transformation was almost instantaneous, a bright reflection of light within the shadow, "…Tifa?"

She smiled broadly, kneeling beside him, and felt the world lift off her shoulders, if only briefly, "Gods above, Cloud, what happened to you?"

His brow furrowed slightly and he looked away, "Nothing much. It's been a long time, hasn't it?…seven years."

Tifa froze, a protest rising in her throat that didn't quite make it out. Didn't he remember that night? He had come to her rescue, like he promised.

"Y-yeah." She faltered uneasily. "It's been a while."

He smiled shyly, "It's good to see you."

She swallowed hard. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Cloud shrugged, "I just got here."

Tifa's mind was working double time as a sense of panic began to take hold. As happy as she was to see him, she was also facing an enormous dilemma. She was going to meet with Avlanache's leaders today – what was she going to do with him?

She'd already mentally crossed off any inclinations of leaving him to his own devices. Something wasn't right with him and she meant to find out, but she couldn't abandon her post yet. She had made an obligation to Avalanche that wasn't yet completed, or so she hoped.

"What are you doing here?" Cloud asked.

She jolted back to reality and blinked, "Oh," Her gaze faltered, "I was…looking for you, actually."

"Really?" He seemed surprised.

"Yeah…" She trailed off and her eyes lingered on the uniform he wore. "So, made SOLDIER, huh?"

A shadow cast over his face, "Not anymore." He murmured darkly. "I don't want anything to do with them."

Tifa inwardly winced. He wouldn't be pleased to hear about what she was doing, but she'd have to tell him eventually.

There was nothing else for it – she was taking him with her. It was the only thing she knew to do.

"Are you looking for work?" Tifa asked hopefully.

His eyes brightened considerably, "Yeah." He said. "I'm hiring out as a Mercenary for anyone who's paying."

She nodded, "I may know someone who'd be interested. Come on."

Author's Notes: I've started summer work with Fish and Game and I still haven't gotten my private helicopter license. ARGGHHH! But I've posted another chapter - my one claim to success at present, and it's really only a partial success since I've got about a billion more chapters to go. Ah, the joys of life. I've been rewriting everything like mad because I've had enough time away from this that I've decided I don't like what I originally wrote anymore.

Sorry about Zack, I'd like to keep him, but I'm fumbling too many characters in this story as it is.

Happy reading and reviewing! Take care,

Faerlyte