The Warrior

Chapter 10


"You must be joking."

Tifa squatted pointedly down beside the manhole cover and proceeded to lift. After a few seconds of watching and debating her struggle, Cloud jumped in to help her. Together they threw it aside and dusted their hands.

"No. I'm not." She emphasized breathlessly and started down the ladder.

Cloud followed, replacing the manhole lid behind them. When they touched bottom in the dark, he flicked on a flashlight and shined it on her. She could just make out the faintest of frowns on his face.

"What are we doing down here?" He asked.

Tifa plunged down the south facing passage, "The resistance has a route from the slums through the sewers. I found it yesterday."

"Doing what?" His footsteps were slow to follow.

"Just looking around." She hedged lightly.

A noncommittal grunt was all she received in reply, the shuffle of heavy boots across stone the only sound prevailing between them. There were fewer fiends roaming today Tifa noted, probably because of the flash flood, but the rats never seemed to diminish.

They made short work of whatever crossed their path and the uncomfortable silence continued.

Tifa had to glance back periodically to confirm that he wasn't just a figment of her imagination. Here she'd gone to all the trouble getting into SOLDIER, and he had the nerve to show up at a random train station. All of the sacrifice and risk she'd endured, for nothing.

The shadows cast by his flashlight seemed to haunt his face though. Something wasn't right with him. If nothing else, she could find out what, but there was more than just Cloud at stake now. She had an obligation to Avalanche too.

"Oh!" Tifa beamed and tried not to appear too surprised or relieved that she'd found the right place. "That's it." There was a torch set in the wall to one side of the doorway.

Cloud was silent but for his footsteps as they approached. She took the stairs leading up to the passage slowly and peeked into the corridor; empty. That could be either good or bad.

It did present an extra problem though. Where was the latch to release the door?

Tifa ran her hand along the wall, the uneven stones cool and moist beneath her fingertips. She reached for the old rusted torch holder and gave it a pull; it didn't budge.

"Damn." Her hands dropped at her sides.

"What is it?" Cloud appeared next to her, curious.

"There has to be a button…something to release the door." She murmured distractedly and started prodding random blocks. "It opened from the inside last time – someone was coming out."

Cloud's eyes seemed to puzzle that for a moment before he reluctantly stepped in to assist in her. His boot happened to punch a loose stone and there was a loud pop. They both jumped back as a grinding noise emitted from the wall and it began to shift aside, revealing the roughly hewn tunnel from yesterday.

Tifa squinted into the dim dark before taking a cautious step forward. She knew what was waiting at the first bend and she had no doubt that it was occupied.

"Hello?" Her voiced resonated off the walls with a faint tremor. She took another step forward, signaling for Cloud to stay put. There was no telling how they'd react to her having brought an uninvited companion.

She felt it before she ever knew someone had come in behind them. There were stars flitting above her head when she hit the ground on hands and knees. A scuffle broke out nearby and was quickly subdued when Cloud crushed down beside her on his knees, his face twisted in a painful grimace.

"Bring 'em forward." A voice called from the end of the passage.

Tifa's head lifted sharply as she was hoisted back to her feet on either side by two formidable looking men. One was dark skinned, the other light – neither wore anything from the waist up save for a green denim vest, leaving no doubt as to their physical strength.

She twisted her head around to check on Cloud. He seemed alright.

"Go on." Another man held the barrel of an assault rifle to Cloud's back. A red bandana bound his black hair, from under which hard brown eyes shifted towards her. "Best hope you come through on your promises."

Tifa set her jaw, giving Cloud what she hoped was an encouraging smile as they were herded down the tunnel.

They came to the first corner and a tall, thickly muscled dark man with a gun arm emerged from behind the right slab of steel. He was flanked on either side by two heavily armored guards - more stood off to the side and manned the defenses of the bunker with heavy artillery and explosives. The gun armed man towered over all them however and held himself so as to remind Tifa and her guest of it.

He examined Cloud from head to toe and the corner of his eye gave a subtle twitch. "Said nothin' about bringin' him." He indicated sharply.

"I'm sorry." Tifa relented. "I didn't know what else to do…I've been looking for him for months – it's why I joined SOLDIER in the first place—"

There was sharp intake of air from behind her and she hid a guilty wince.

"I'm sorry." She murmured. Her eyes remained on the gun-armed man. "I found him at the train station on my way here. He's looking for work."

"Is he now." The gun armed man gave a bored shrug and turned away dismissively. "Well, ya be comin' with us either way. Your funeral if yer jerkin' us off."

Tifa nodded, more to herself than anyone else.

Cloud was hesitating behind her. She glanced back at him with a silent plea. He gave a reluctant sigh and started after her, "You could've told me."

"We just met half an hour ago." She whispered.

He shrugged, but his eyes remained hooded.

They were lead to the end of the passage and shuttled into the makeshift elevator. Only four could ride at once, which meant her and Cloud, and two of them; the gun armed man and the one with the red bandana. Neither seem particularly concerned that the odds appeared even should a fight break out.

"So…Tifa, is it?" The dark man crossed his arms.

"Yes." She answered and tried not to fidget her hands.

"Do you have a name?" Cloud inquired shortly, his arms crossed to mimic the other man's.

Brown eyes pinned him pointedly to the side of the elevator, "Wasn't talkin' to you, Spike." He spat and looked back at Tifa. "So, what can ya offer me?"

"I want to help." Tifa said in earnest. "I'm inside the building…I have access to things you don't – whatever you need me to do I will."

His companion leaned in to whisper something in the dark man's ear. The latter shook his head and held up his hand, signaling for quiet. He unraveled his arms, "The name's Barret Wallace." He said and gave a nod to the man beside him, "This here's Wedge. We got the dubious honor o' leadin' this band o' miscreants called Avalanche – ya can imagine my…reluctance…under the circumstances."

Tifa waited, her hands worrying the stiff fabric of her shorts.

"That bein' said," Barret continued, "Johnny won't shut up 'bout ya an' my ears are startin' ta bleed. So, I'll give ya a shot."

She was so afraid to speak and spoil his generosity in her moment of euphoric relief that she barely managed a nod of gratitude.

Cloud grumbled something under his breath behind her that sounded distinctly unkind. As a result, the heel of her boot maneuvered over his toes and gave them a good squish. Air hissed between his teeth, but no further commentary was forthcoming.

"But him…" Barret's gaze flickered at Cloud, "I ain't makin' no promise for."

Cloud stepped forward, "Listen," He said, "if it's Shin-Ra you're worried about, I don't want anything to do with them. I don't really care what it is you do either, but if you pay, I'll fight.

"Mercenaries…" Barret gave a contemptuous snort, twisting his neck with a crack. "I don't turn down willin' hands though, even if money is all ya want. You fight," He jabbed a finger at him, "Then I'll pay ya."

The elevator came to a shuddering halt and they were ushered out into another tunnel. Tifa glanced around, marveling at their surroundings. They had to be underground. The walls were granite, cast slate gray by the dim electronic lighting in the passage.

Barret led them to a round door of solid steel. The one called Wedge performed a series of knocks and stepped back. There was a flurry of mechanical noises from the other side and then a hiss of pressurized air as the seal was released. The door swung smoothly inwards on hydraulic hinges into a world of whirling activity.

At first Tifa could only stare.

Silver blue toned walls glistened around a room full of bustling people and technology, from computers and surveillance cameras, to big screened monitors and virtual touch boards. A writhing nest of wiring sprawled beneath sleek glass tables and disappeared through power outlets to elsewhere.

Tifa's brow rose into her hairline; this was no small scale uprising. This was a full blown operation.

Monitors hummed in cadence with low voices and occasional laughter. Men and woman of all shapes, colors and size mingled together at work. Their clothes were patchwork, worn, but crisp, and there were dozens of them in just this one room.

How many more might be in the resistance?

A paper airplane hurtled past and landed in the tunnel behind them before the door shut with a decisive thud.

"Barret!" Someone shouted from across the way. Tifa looked up and spotted a woman weaving her way towards them. She sported a winning smile and a short pony tail of dirty blonde hair pulled back from her eyes with a red bandana, "So, this is her then?" Her gaze met Tifa's briefly, halting inevitably on Cloud, "And who is this?"

"Haven't asked." Barret said gruffly.

"Cloud." He answered quietly.

"Welcome to Avalanche, Cloud." She beamed and held out her hand. "I'm Jesse."

Cloud seemed taken aback at first by the gesture, but courteously accepted the offer of friendship while Tifa looked on with a fretful frown and Barret just plain scowled. The exchange was immediately broken by a delighted outburst.

"Daddy!"

A short streak of light pink and bouncing brown hair hurled passed. The girl threw herself in the unsuspecting embrace of the big man, oblivious to her father's dismay as she giggled with delight.

Barret cleared his throat as he hoisted the child up on his shoulder, his cheeks turning a unique shade of purple. "Marlene!" He chastised and glared at Jesse. "I told ya to keep her upstairs."

Jesse ducked her head sheepishly. "I couldn't stop her." She gave him a playful slap on the arm. "You know you wanted to see her anyway."

He indulged the girl with a swift smile as he set her down and knelt in front of her. "Off with ya. Back upstairs. I'll be up later."

Marlene's lower lip protruded with an exaggerated whimper. Her eyes automatically slid past him to where Tifa stood and she did a little hop step, smiling broadly. "Thank you for the flower!"

Tifa inclined her head with a smile in return, "You're more than welcome."

Her father made a disgruntled sound, but there was nothing for it. The little girl was on a mission and couldn't be swayed. "Are you gonna stay?"

Tifa made a show of regret, "I'm afraid not."

Marlene's brow furrowed petulantly as she stepped back, "Why?"

"Marlene…" Barret drawled with a warning.

The girl stopped, chewing her lip pensively as she returned to her father's side. He whispered something in her ear and her face brightened some. She turned and waved, "Nice to see you!" and disappeared back into the mire of tall, adult people.

Barret exhaled deeply and rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry 'bout that."

"She's a sweetheart." Tifa smiled sadly.

The man appeared to shake himself out of a reverie and turned to address Jesse, "We need the conference room."

"Should be empty, come on." She signaled for them to follow.

The activity continued around them as they moved through the room, but there was an underlying tension. Tifa noted that everyone appeared to be armed and probably ready to fight at the first sign of danger. They were not so untrained as Shin-Ra would have its SOLDIERs believe.

The conference room was medium sized and dominated by a large circular table that was at the moment buried under a pile of miscellaneous papers that would have given Sephiroth's desk a run for its money. In the back were old bunks, hammocks and bean bags. There was a dart board on one wall and a punching bag in the corner.

"Here we are," Jessa announced with a sweep of her arm. She turned to face them, hands on her hips. "Need me for anything else?"

Barret scratched his beard for a moment, thinking. "Better stick around," He said finally. "Tifa here wants ta get in on our operation – could be useful havin' a man inside."

"Sure thing." Jesse replied and gave Tifa two exuberant thumbs up. "Have a seat around the table everyone."

The door was closed and locked behind them.

It took two hours to determine everything they wanted to know.

The maps were useful, they said, though they did have some of their own. It was the key card that was invaluable – Tifa's ticket in. Jesse was a tech master; she could do anything Barret needed her to do. She could even make a drive hacker that would bypass security walls on a computer in a matter of seconds. It could hold ten times as much ram as a single computer.

All Tifa would have to do is plug it in. It would be her first job among many that they would task her with. In time they would have to ask much, much more of her, and she had agreed without asking what. She didn't want to know.

The drive hacker was in her pocket as she departed the base, anxiety rippling across her face.

This was their main operation point, but there were back up holes in other parts of the city. They had approximately seven bases of operations, one for every sector. Gods knew how extensive each one of them was, but she suspected that what she'd seen today hardly scratched the surface.

She didn't know how they accumulated enough man power for an operation of this magnitude. They were connected electronically on a ghost line designed by Jesse. Communication was instant and concealed from prying eyes.

And they'd be watching her every step too.

"Hey,"

Tifa stopped, her heart caught momentarily in her throat. Cloud was standing there in the circular doorway, his shoulders slightly hunched. His eyes softened a bit as he looked at her, "It's good to see you again."

She forced a smile through the sharp pang in her chest, "It's good to see you too."

"Take care of yourself." He tried a smile

"I will." She smiled faintly back. "You do the same, alright?"

He gave a nonchalant nod before turning away with a wave and heading back into the base.

Tifa swallowed hard as she watched him go, unable to stop him. Avalanche would take him on and if he proved himself useful, he could stay. It was a start for him at any rate.

But it wasn't turning out at all how she had envisioned. They were supposed to be together - that's how these stories worked, or so she'd thought.

Her lips thinned bitterly. So much for that.

The trip back to Shin-Ra HQ was a long one, not least of which because Tifa was dreading having to smuggle herself back into the building. She felt so lost, suddenly deprived of the purpose that had brought her here. It invited unsettling questions.

Was she merely fighting for the resistance now? She didn't know.

Angeal and Chaka were not bad people, but they were undeniably on the wrong side of this battle from where she stood. Did they have to be her enemies now? More importantly, did Sephiroth?

A dull ache was growing inside her. She shouldn't even care, but some part of her subconscious wanted to help him – needed to help him. Was there anything to lose in trying?

Her sanity perhaps, though little good that had done her lately.

Tifa sighed heavily.

Pebbles scattered as her sneakers scraped the concrete. She took a detour through the abandoned railways. Not because there was anything to do there, but she needed practice and had time to kill. The sun had just reached its zenith in the sky – she could afford to stay away for a while longer.

The rush of battle quickly replaced her anxieties with a calm, calculated determination that was stable and comforting. She found herself missing Chaka's company. His training was bearing fruits for her and he was a good teacher.

She would never reach Sephiroth's skill, as much as she appreciated Chaka's encouragement – she was not genetically engineered. But she would be the best that she could be, for the world and those without the strength to defend themselves.

A few hours, a few nicks and cuts later, and Tifa headed back towards the inner city. It was around 6 o'clock when she boarded the train to Shin-Ra HQ. She settled in her seat and perused her phone for news to pass the time.

Professor Lowell was flooding the Notice board again. The materia thief was still at large, now with over half his stores. Nothing new there. Nothing new anywhere apparently. Shin-Ra appeared to be running a rather loose ship as of late.

The train came to a stop and two SOLDIERs who were onboard with her got up to leave. She followed farther behind, waiting until they were mostly out of sight before stepping down onto the platform. Her eyes strayed to the maintenance door that went to the stairs of the building.

Her heart gave a depressed flop. She'd been walking all day. Maybe if she just went right in no one would notice. It's not like the first floor was closed to civilians.

The front doors to the building abruptly opened and all thoughts of the stairs vanished. She knew it was him before she looked, but it didn't stop her. Their eyes met at precisely the same moment, striking a shiver down her spine like a premonition of fate. Neither of them moved as they stared at one another.

Tifa felt inexplicably drawn to him and had to stop herself when she took a step towards him. She was so caught up in the confusion of her own feelings that she never noticed that he had been stepping towards her as well. The troupe of 2nd and 3rd class SOLDIERS that had preceded him were now boarding the train, but he had forgotten them. He recognized her for who he thought she was, as the disguised SOLDIER, but there was something more there, something he couldn't place.

There was no time to think. Tifa ducked behind a curtain of dark hair and made a run for the front doors of the building.

His eyes were like a gravitational force pulling at her senses. She burst into the first floor lobby at an accelerated walk, passing the front desk and the curious secretary. Behind her she could hear the deep timber of his voice as it was abruptly cut off by the closing of the doors.

No sooner had it stopped beofre the hinges gave a faint whine as they burst open again. His footsteps reverberated an authorative cadence across the polished tile flooring, swallowing her shorter stride. She hit the stairs at a sprint and started skipping steps with an urgency that surprised her.

Too much adrenaline and not enough caution.

Tifa felt her boot slip and knew it was all over in the flash of pain that was coming. Her shin hit the edge of the stair with the full weight of her body behind it. She strangled the hurt that clung to her throat. It was all she could do not to cry out as tears pushed at the corners of her eyes.

That throbbing ache blossomed in her head loud enough to drown out any notions of running further. She sagged against the rail and bit down on her lip as a trickle of warmth ran down her leg.

A gloved hand appeared before her. She followed the offending appendage up his leather clad arm, past the polished shoulder guards and along his bare neck to the face peering down at her through guarded eyes. He'd scarcely made a sound coming up the stairs behind her and though she knew his inhuman speed, it still stunned her that he could be right there.

"Up." He gestured with his fingers sharply, but his voice held no malice.

She didn't know what possessed her to accept his hand, but she did.

His voice thrummed wearily through her bones as he helped her to her feet, "Are you alright?"

She gave a mute nod. Every curse word in the book came to mind as she stood and put weight on both feet. Almost instinctively Sephiroth's other hand had found itself around her lower back to settle firmly on her hip for support.

Tifa bristled at the unexpected touch, but rather than pulling away she found herself leaning into him instead, drawn by the strength that he was so possessed of. It encircled her with the assurance of safety, the heady scent of leather and something…metallic.

It could not be placed, that smell –alive, full of energy and power, his. Its appeal to her was so overpowering that the need to deny it never materialized.

The elevator doors could not have chosen a better time to spring open with a startling ding. Sephiroth tensed beside her. He seemed caught between running and throwing himself in front of her, until the decision was abruptly taken from him when the SOLDIER emerged and did a double take. His mouth fell open.

Sephiroth didn't say a word, but from the sudden snap of the SOLDIER's teeth coming together one got the impression that something was conveyed in a nonverbal exchange between the two. The young man was gone in a flash.

Tifa relaxed in poorly disguised relief, though she didn't know why she should've felt nervous. At least, not until Sephiroth's mouth was right by her ear and there was no room to spare between them. The warmth of his breath tickled in such a manner as to give way to inappropriate thoughts.

He whispered quickly, "Tomorrow afternoon, same place, 2 p.m. sharp. If you are but a minute late, I will leave you behind." He pulled away then, before adding quietly, "Do not risk yourself this way again."

Her knees nearly gave out as she watched him sweep down the stairs and disappear, her heart still hammering in her chest as something stirred deep in the pit of her stomach, a feeling she desperately wanted to despise, but couldn't.

It was Saturday morning and Angeal glanced edgily about Director Lazard's office. One hand lifted to his chin as he brushed his index finger over his lower lip. He paced from one end to the other, stopping intermittently to rearrange his thoughts.

When the door opened he gave a start, turning to face his superior with undisguised reservation. It was always this way when they met, ever since the incident of five years ago.

Lazard had never been a large man, but he was pushing the limits of attenuated these days. His hair, so carefully swept back, seemed on the verge of cracking. There were dark rings under his eyes and stubble on his chin where there shouldn't have been.

The director pulled up short as he noticed Angeal standing there. "Oh, hello Angeal." He said and drew a hand across his brow. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Angeal dropped his arms at his sides, "The Nibelheim records before the disaster occurred." He began, "I'd like to see them."

Lazard stared incredulously back at him, waiting for the punch line. When nothing happened he removed his glasses with a despondent sigh and proceeded to polish them, "You know I can't do that."

The SOLDIER's brow furrowed deeply, "There must be some way of getting ahold of them."

The director replaced his glasses and took a seat behind his desk, crossing his legs and touching his finger tips as he regarded the other man. "It is impossible, not the least of which, they'd never hand it over to you if it did exist. Every last piece of evidence regarding the original town site has been erased for obvious reasons."

Angeal pivoted away sharply, swearing under his breath. He blew a gust of air out his nose and glared pensively at the floor.

"Why?" Lazard's voice broke in.

He shifted his hands to his waist, "Something…maybe it's nothing." He murmured. "There's a SOLDIER who claims to be from Nibelheim originally - says he hasn't been back in over five years."

"Does he know?" The director inquired sharply.

Angeal's eyes flickered towards the other man briefly and settled back on the floor. "I'm not certain." He replied carefully. "But something is off. I wanted to run a cross-check on his last name from the list of the dead, but…"

There was a faint squeak from the chair as a weight was lifted from it. Lazard's shoes tapped gently across the hard surface floor as he approached the SOLDIER, hands in his pockets. For a moment they seemed to gaze into the same distance.

"There may be a way of finding out, but you will have to convince Tseng that your suspicions have merit." Lazard said. "That's all I can give you."

Angeal nodded. "That will have to do."

4:30 in the morning and there were thirteen messages on her phone. She didn't know thirteen people. How was that even possible?

Well, for one thing there were about five from one mysterious entity labeled "Murphy". Who was he and how had he gotten her phone number? She would have to look into that later.

Jesse had sent her three messages too – that was to be expected.

The other five were an assortment of letters and announcements. Chaka was coming back tomorrow, a few days earlier than expected. He seemed distracted. Professor Lowell was on the verge of blowing a capillary - she wished he'd stop spamming everyone's inbox.

Lazard had posted a notice regarding an upcoming company party to follow a press conference with President Shin-Ra, scheduled a week from today. Tifa eyed this particular message disdainfully before moving on. There was one from Angeal requesting her presence for a report that afternoon. The last was an anouncement from Sephiroth, which was bizarre to say the least. She didn't even know he had a phone.

Tifa opened that one first, the memories of last night still fresh in her mind.

I will be holding a strategy class for leadership development in the evenings every other day of the week. Anyone interested in participating should meet me in the Practice Room Simulator tonight at 1800 hours.

Sephiroth

Shock registered across her face.

He didn't. He wouldn't have, would he? Some part of her felt like breaking. She read the message again, but the words had not changed, nor had the sentiment.

Tifa released a shaky breath and refocused on one of the other messages, something from Murphy. She frowned.

Someone's been in your locker.

Tifa hovered indecisively in the hallway as she stared down at the screen. After a moment she remembered to walk again and continued on to the stairs – no more elevators for her today. She'd had enough of that. She had an hour and half before the morning drills, enough time to investigate her locker and maybe shed some light on the mysterious "Murphy".

Ten minutes later and Tifa was staggering back from an avalanche of brightly colored spheres as they poured forth from her locker. Her eyes fixed wide in shock and dawning horror, her mouth hung slack. Nothing seemed to respond to her brain's urgent command to hide the incriminating evidence that was now everywhere.

She lurched out of her daze with a strangled sound, glancing in every direction before diving after a random sphere as they rolled across the floor every which way, under the benches and into the far corners of the room. Her ears monitored the sounds of footsteps in the distance as she scrambled, tossing globes of blue, green, yellow, red, and purple back into the bag they'd spilled out of. A good portion of them missed the bag completely and went sailing across to the other side of the room in her frenzy.

By the time she had them all collected again her hands were shaking and she was sweating. Then the door started to open and she had to thrust them haphazardly back into her locker, slamming it shut with a resonating clamor. She whirled round, her back pressed firmly up against the row of lockers as she monitored the approaching SOLDIER.

He gave her a long look as he passed, but didn't say anything.

Tifa allowed herself to breath and made slowly for the door. She was reaching for the control panel when a voice sounded out behind her and she flinched.

"Hey," He said, "I, uh, just wanted you to know…not everyone makes a big deal about, you know, who you're into. I mean, it's cool with me."

"Oh," Her voice quavered, "Uh, thanks."

She slipped out the door and gradually reigned in her terror as she put more distance between her and the stolen bag of materia residing in her locker for reasons she couldn't fathom. Her nose wrinkled as she checked the second message from Murphy.

Yeah, uh, I want those back.

Tifa would be more than happy to give them back at this point and pretend that none of that had just happened. She didn't even want to think at the implications of the messages on her phone. There wasn't time for shit like this!

On the flip side of that coin, she was definitely not more than happy to arrive at the gymnasium second to Sephiroth. His chest was bare, her limbs all frozen akimbo as she stared. At the first sign of movement from her silver haired menace – he was turning to face her – she executed her escape maneuver, ducking her head and scurrying towards the far corner of the room.

She allowed her eyes to rove surreptitiously towards him from behind the visor. He was watching her, albeit far more blatantly and not because she was a fine figure of a man. There was a throbbing in her ears as her pulse intensified.

Tifa frowned pensively at the feelings warring for precedence in her mind. This was just the natural reaction of pheromones in the body to something that was undeniably attractive, if a bit unpredictable and insane. No harm in appreciating the view, right?

Wrong, she thought morbidly.

"SOLDIER." The authority in that single word drew her up short, a tingle of apprehension trickling from the base of her skull down into her very toes.

She turned almost meekly, afraid of what she would face at the end of that voice. Sephiroth stood on the other side of the room in all his ripped glory and regarded her with bright-eyed curiosity set within a perfectly smooth, unlined face. She had the unnerving sensation of him looking right into her soul.

"Sir?" She queried.

Sephiroth took that as an invitation to approach, not that he needed one. His gaze traveled the length of her body twice and a thoughtful line formed above his eyes. He circled her once, oblivious to the bright red sheen now reflected in her cheeks, and stopped in front of her.

Tifa felt distinctly uncomfortable. Was he pretending to check her out as a man, because that was just weird. On the other hand, if he was checking her out as the woman he knew she was, than she had problems of astronomical size.

That brought her back to the first theory. Grant it, there could be some other obscure reasoning behind the intensity of his eyes on her, but she was afraid to wonder at what it might be and just assumed not ask. He probably wouldn't answer anyway.

Maybe Sephiroth wants everyone to think he's batting for the other team?

She suppressed a giggle and momentarily forgot herself.

"Your shape is far too obvious in that attire." He regarded her grimly.

Tifa blushed outright. "E-excuse me?"

"It's a wonder I didn't notice before." He continued.

She harrumphed with a snide retort, "Maybe that's because your tastes run a different course from the usual."

He arched a dubious brow, "Are you suggesting that I'm gay?"

Tifa fidgeted slightly under the amusement clearly reflected in the subtle twitch of his lips. "Well…you do have unusually long hair. It could be sign."

Okay, that was weak.

Sephiroth chuckled softly as he turned and began to walk away. "You will attend tonight." He said in afterthought, and it was not a question.

Her helm lifted sharply to glare at his retreating back as she fought the urge to huff indignantly, but having already made the decision half an hour ago, chose tact instead. "That was my intention, sir."

He turned at the head of the room and faced her. "Good."

By now other SOLDIERS had begun to arrive. Tifa was left to stare after him in bemusement. Maybe he really was batting for the other team. Tifa snickered at the thought of all his besotted female fans. The snicker quickly escalated into a whimper and she stomped her foot.

How utterly unfair!

She did not stop to think at why her mind would care who Sephiroth was interested in, because she certainly didn't. And the small, infinitesimal cubicle in her brain that whispered conspiringly that she didn't quite despise him anymore was gagged by the common sense that was scrambling for a toe hold in this rapidly spiraling out of control situation.

In conclusion, she blamed the mice.

How could you hate someone who thought so affectionately of the fuzzy little misbegotten rodents that lived in his office space? She must really be losing her mind.

Sephiroth's call for attention interrupted her musings and she belatedly stepped into line with the others.

Tifa could feel dread welling up in the pit of her stomach as she watched him pace the room between exercises. He scoured every row, looming over the struggling specimens before him, waiting, watching. She knew what he was waiting for.

The pushup drill. She hated the push up drill, and he was timing it just right, the bastard. Why, she wanted to know, was he antagonizing her so? She gritted her teeth, her eyes on him from the corner of the visor as he made his slow, seemingly innocuous approach, though she knew full well what he was up to. He stopped to stand over her and announced the switch.

Her hands planted on the floor matting, set carefully apart, and she glared down at the vibrant blue of the pad as she straightened her back into position. She pushed, extending her arms and maintained posture as she waited for the go ahead.

Sweat rolled off the tip of her nose – they'd been exercising for half an hour already. But this he was drawing out on purpose. She could see his boots if she ducked her head under, standing behind her as he was.

"Begin." His voice echoed smoothly from one side of the room to the other.

Forty-five pushups in and he had yet to move. From the base of Tifa's throat came a silent groan as her arms gave out. She took a few deep breaths, positioned her hands again, and resumed the exercise for another twenty before hitting the matt a second time.

Then Sephiroth was squatting beside her, his nose scarcely inches from her face. There was an incorrigible smirk there as he gazed down at her, but his eyes were anything but laughing.

"I will have to push you harder than the rest." His words drifted softly to her, beyond the earshot of those around them. "To keep your secret…"

She survived the last thirty seconds and Sephiroth straightened without another word, continuing on down the line. The last hour they ran and he was dogging her footsteps every step of the way. She attempted losing him in the crowd of sweating bodies and only succeeded in enraging several of them. The end result was that she worked twice as hard to cover the same distance and had little to show for it.

But she understood. She wanted to hate him for it, but she understood.

Author's Notes: Good God...that took way longer than it should have. But I now have a private helicopter license to show for all my absence! So I've been doing something in my off time. I'm going to post this and immediately begin work on the next chapter. Theoretically you all won't have to wait months to see it - I'm hoping more like a week, two at the most. It kills me to take this long to get something done and this story has so far to go yet. Hopefully it's still keeping you all occupied, but I know it's a pain in the arse having to re-fresh your memory of what's happened in the previous chapters - I've had to do the same.

Writing...it's just a tough business. Sometimes the inspiration just isn't there and I had a lot of things that I need to figure out in order for the rest of the story to flow smoothly from this point. It took some time, but I think I've got it taken care of.

Take care and happy reading...reviews are nice. I'll hang my head in shame without them (which I might very well deserve, but I swear I'm trying).

Faerlyte