A/N: I hope massive chapters are ok. This one grew more than I anticipated. Much needed to be said and done here, though, if only to open other parts of the upcoming story. And—well, you know—they're at a gala, so we need dancing!
Chapter 14
Just a Night of Dancing and Drama
Tifa felt as much a princess as Yuffie in her gossamer gown with a heart-shaped bodice. Molly convinced her to go with a deep green hue, along with the silk ribbon tying her hair into a sleek ponytail. Tifa thought the tiny glittering rhinestones woven into the fabric of the décolletage a little much. Still, Molly assured her it was just the right touch to the hint of cleavage the dress permitted.
Tifa preened at the mirror, thinking the ensemble very tasteful and elegant. She gingerly caressed the matching gossamer stole, the material light and silky against her skin. With a sigh and one last look, she walked down to the garage to where Cloud waited impatiently in the truck.
When she climbed into the passenger seat, he stared at her dress a moment before a fleeting smile flashed. "You look nice," he muttered, positioning the gear shift, and backed out of the driveway without another word. Moments like this proved that Cloud had never really seen her, but she kept her nagging thoughts to herself as he drove them to the gala.
He had grown more reticent since finding Shalua in Deepground and surprisingly visited her almost every day. Cloud had never met Shalua before her rescue. Tifa was sure of it. Something about the woman triggered a change in him. He had never been the type of person to sit in a hospital for hours. And yet, the last couple of weeks, Cloud had become such a frequent visitor the nursing staff knew him by name, and some believed him to be related to their patient.
Vincent confirmed that Professor Parran and another rogue scientist had found Shalua by chance following the Omega attack on Midgar. Not caring who she was or if she would be missed, they took advantage of her comatose state and rebuilt her damaged organs for further experimentation. Parran said it was good practice, and Shalua should be thankful for what they did for her. Without him, not only would she have starved inside the capsule, but she would've remained in a coma regardless. The woman still slept most of the time and didn't have much to say when she awoke. But Cloud would check on her—odd though the action seemed coming from him.
Tifa wondered at their budding relationship. She never pressed him on his trips to the hospital or questioned if they talked. She'd witnessed the wordless companionship between them and knew it unlikely that either said anything at all. They would just sit together in quiet camaraderie. And he would do just that later tonight.
The gala was conveniently being held in the hotel across the street from the WRO. Cloud reluctantly agreed to attend, informing Tifa that he would probably visit Shalua for most of the evening. His news didn't upset her. He hated these events that Reeve practically forced on them, and she wasn't keen on fielding his foul mood if she guilted him into staying for its entirety.
Tifa smiled weakly as Cloud offered his arm upon entering the ballroom. Moments like this would always catch her. Small, insensitive behaviors would be followed up with equally chivalrous ones that pulled her in and gave her hope. Although her emotions for Cloud had changed, she knew she had expected things from Cloud before that perhaps had never crossed his mind. Or that no longer did after—everything, revealing the mistakes in their life together. Reminding her that maybe they had never been—meant to be.
She squeezed his arm and forced a more genial smile as they searched out a table. The enormous ballroom shined bright with colorful lanterns floating above the dance floor and tables. Along the walls, various booths and gambling counters entertained the star-studded and handsomely attired guests. A small orchestra sat upon the stage and played soft tunes as everyone slowly wandered toward their tables. Tifa sighed in relief when she spotted Molly and Pete.
"Oh, my sweet—Baby! Would you look at my girlfriend? Holy Chocobo! I'm about to get remarried!" Tifa laughed at her friend's greeting as Pete helped his wife to her feet. Molly didn't quite waddle over to Tifa before giving her a hug, but Tifa thought her walk a close second.
"Molly! You look radiant!" Tifa leaned forward as Pete placed a brotherly kiss on her cheek. She grabbed Molly's hands, spreading them wide to better view her gown. The floor-length princess skirt concealed her pregnant belly expertly. "I'm so glad you went with the baby blue." The two women gushed over each other as Cloud and Pete shook hands before taking their seats at the table.
Kunsel and a few other SOLDIERs joined their group shortly before Reeve started his presentation in front of the orchestra. He thanked everyone for attending, gave awards to dedicated employees, and announced a new project to increase the number of parks in the city, funded by the generous donations the evening procured.
Following the ceremony and dinner, Cloud made his apologies, assuring Tifa he would meet her later at Yuffie's. She watched him as he briefly passed by a poker table and stopped when a gambler hailed him in greeting. Reeve held out a hand, inviting Cloud to join his game. The table hosted a few obvious fat-cats and none other than Rufus ShinRa, his Turks lurking conspicuously nearby. Cloud narrowed his eyes at ShinRa, then politely declined, nodding his head at the others before making a hasty retreat.
"Gentleman and Ladies," Kunsel said as he winked at Tifa. "The games call me! Who's in?" The other SOLDIERs quickly followed him to the awaiting poker tables, leaving only Pete to entertain his wife and Tifa.
Tifa scanned the ballroom, wondering if Vincent skipped the event. Toying awkwardly with her wine glass, she took a small sip, thinking to drown the shame that comes with rejection. Tifa hoped the mortification didn't show in her eyes. Last thing she wanted was to spoil the fun with lovesick brooding. Truthfully, she hoped he wouldn't show, then she wouldn't have to face the humiliation of seeing him here anyway. What if—no. She chased that thought before it could fully form in her mind. There's no way Vincent would show with a date. Tifa was sure he knew only five women at present, and she was one of them!
The orchestra ignored her mood and switched from playing standards to upbeat music suited for ballroom dancing. Crowds gathered on the dance floor, some showing considerable expertise likely bought at pricey dance studios. But they exited the dance floor immediately when more common tunes beckoned the equally common guests. The music mesmerized Tifa as she tuned out the crowds. She didn't much feel like socializing, so she hummed along to each melody she recognized. Her ears perked up when a lively polka song made famous in rural areas began to play; the tune had been a favorite of her parents. She smiled, recalling her mother showing her the steps while her father twirled her around the living room on his feet.
"Come on, sweet. This is a good song. Let's go dance." Pete kissed Molly's hands as the woman looked over at Tifa, rolling her eyes at her husband's plea.
"How'm I gonna do a country polka in this condition? Why don't you ask my girlfriend? She can keep up with you better'n any woman here!" Molly shooed Pete off and lifted her feet to rest on his chair.
"Alright, come on, girlfriend!" Pete didn't give Tifa an option as he grabbed her by the arms and set her on her feet. "I hope you know this dance cause I'm not waiting for you to learn, woman!" Molly laughed at him as Pete yanked Tifa along behind him. Tifa held tightly to the hand pulling her, not putting up a fight to his determination to dance to the nostalgic tune.
Pete did not exaggerate. No sooner had she made it through the throng of dancers did he grip her by the waist and turn the two of them in a swift, skipping waltz across the floor. Tifa almost tripped on the first revolution but quickly recalled the right-left-right—left-right-left pattern of steps her mother had drilled into her 8-year-old brain. She laughed aloud as Pete twirled her in the high-speed cadence set by the song's energetic rhythm. They circled and tapped their feet as they speedily traveled the length of the dance floor, dodging the other dancers who braved the fast-paced music.
Few others knew the dance in the same way, as most living in Edge were born and raised city dwellers. Even so, the entire gala cheerily clapped along as the remaining dancers showed the value of an old-fashioned, knee-slapping country folk song. Tifa could even hear Molly hooting and hollering from their table. Pete yelled back at his wife, and Tifa grinned from ear to ear, lovesick brooding forgotten.
When the song ended, the ballroom filled with raucous applause, and the dance floor emptied as the band changed pace with a love song, giving everyone a breather. Pete guided Tifa to their table before turning to his wife. "You have no choice. You're coming with me," he said, wrapping an arm around Molly's shoulders, the other hooking under her knees.
"Pete, what're you doin? People'll think we're backwoods—Pete!" Molly squealed when he lifted her into her arms and carried her away from the table. "Baby! My shoes are under my chair!"
"You don't need shoes, sweet," he whispered, strolling to the dance floor with his wife snug in his arms. Pete didn't set her down, only held Molly close, nuzzling her ear and neck as he swayed back and forth with the music.
Tifa smiled and propped her chin in her hand, letting out a pensive sigh at the romantic gesture. She reached for her wine glass as her eyes again wandered around the ballroom, and she noticed him, talking alone with Tseng.
Vincent hid in the shadows along the wall, not too distant from the poker table played by Reeve and Rufus. He appeared to be in the same suit and cape worn at Yuffie's wedding. So, he did show.
Vincent watched her quietly as Tseng spoke, giving no indication he listened to the Turk. But she knew full well his attention could easily be divided between the conversation and her. Tifa's eyes trailed downward as embarrassment swept over her again. Let that unanswered message mark the last time she tries that! He hadn't even come by to say hello before he let himself become distracted with someone else.
She raised the glass back to her lips and looked in his direction again, hoping the rim hid her eyes from view. Vincent had turned his attention directly to Tseng and spoke in what she knew to be a hushed timbre. Tseng held a slight smile to his face as he listened intently, and the two of them scanned the room as their training had taught them. Elena walked over to them from the bar and handed Tseng a glass of champagne. Vincent said something to the two of them, and they nodded their heads in response. As he turned his head toward Tifa and began to walk in her direction, she quickly drained her glass, hoping that he would, and yet hoping that he would not ask her to dance.
Pete appeared next to her and deposited Molly into her seat, blocking Vincent's approach from view. "Ladies, I will be right back with drinks." Pete left the table as Vincent appeared from behind him.
Vincent seemed about to speak when Molly's voice commanded her attention. "Hun, I'm goin to the powder room. You mind watchin my husband for a minute?" Molly scooted out of her seat and bumped into Vincent, who she didn't realize was behind her chair. "Whoops! Woah!" Molly lost her balance and nearly fell backward until Vincent caught her mid-fall.
"My apologies," he said in a low tone and released her arms from his grasp once she steadied herself on her feet.
"Oh, don't worry, honey. I'm so clumsy nowadays, and I didn't see ya standin there." Molly turned her face toward Tifa and raised her eyebrows. "I'll just—skedaddle," she said, giving Tifa a cheeky wink before heading toward the bathrooms.
Tifa didn't know what to say, a greeting not even seeming the right choice. He moved around her before placing a hand on the chair next to her.
"May I?" She nodded nervously and looked on with a feeble smile as he lowered himself into the chair. Tifa reached for her wine but realized the glass was empty, cursing herself for having consumed it so quickly. Thankfully, Pete suddenly appeared, hands full of drinks.
"I've got what you need, girl!" He set a fresh glass in front of her and a glass of water for Molly when she returned. He arranged multiple beers in his hands and looked to Vincent with a nod. "Evening, Sir."
Tifa stifled a laugh. Pete was so different when he was in work mode. Even at an event like this, he couldn't help but demonstrate professional respect for Vincent, same with Reeve.
"Evening, Pete." Vincent nodded when Pete handed him an extra beer.
Sensing he was interrupting an intimate conversation, Pete looked around himself awkwardly. "I—uh—I'll go wait for Molly by the bathrooms. She trips over everything nowadays," he said with a chuckle and then promptly excused himself.
Tifa's mind struggled to find the words to speak, anxiety pumping through her chest as the orchestra's music filled the silence in their conversation. She wondered if the awkwardness was one-sided as she looked at Vincent, noting he only scanned the ballroom.
He seemed comfortable enough, but his face was deliberately unreadable. Tifa expected at any moment that he might scold her for the invitation he left unanswered. Maybe he sought the right words to kindly point out the inappropriate nature of her suggestion. Perhaps—even if her request was friendly—he couldn't possibly jeopardize the only friendships he'd made in decades to make an appearance as her escort for the evening.
He suddenly faced her. She prepared herself to hear the worst, giving him another weak smile before looking away again. "Where did you learn to dance like that?"
"Hmm?" She was almost shocked at the question.
"The dance. Not many people know it." He sipped his beer, then set his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together as he waited for her response with an intense stare.
"Oh—umm." She let out a quick laugh and scratched her forehead as his meaning dawned on her. "Ha, well, it was my mother." Encouraged that he wasn't admonishing her, she continued with a little more confidence. "And my father. They loved the song and the dance. It's folk music—kind of popular in mountain villages, I guess. Probably not all that well-known here, or in Wutai." A corner of her mouth tilted upward as she shrugged her shoulders.
"I wonder if Cid knows it." He gave her a crooked grin. "He's from the mountains too," he clarified when she gave him a quizzical eye.
"And the dance, too?" Tifa raised her eyebrows, not fighting the smirk spreading across her face and letting herself relax with the safe discussion topic.
He gave a genuine laugh, throwing his head back and startling her at the sudden noise. "Let's hope not," he said and laughed again when she caught on to his insinuation, recalling Cid's tango from Yuffie's wedding.
"Ick, don't remind me," she grimaced before beaming at his continued laughter. Tifa eased her anxiety for a moment but frowned when she saw Vincent quiet himself and awkwardly fidget with a bolt on his gauntlet. She again grew reticent and waited for him to speak, which he didn't. He only looked into her eyes and gave her a thin smirk, appearing to search his mind for something to talk about with her.
The quiet between them stretched on, the music again serving as discourse as she softly sang the words to the familiar tune. Should she apologize for the messages? Tell him it was a gaffe, a misunderstanding about how their friendship had grown since the wedding? She had to swallow her pride and offer him her regrets. Tifa didn't want their relationship to move in this uncomfortable direction.
When the silence finally broke, they both spoke at once and snickered at each other, going quiet again to let the other speak.
"What was that?" Vincent dipped his head toward her as though trying to hear over the music in the background.
"Oh, nothing. It was nothing. You go first." If there was anything he needed to get off his chest, she wanted to let him do it. She was proficient at waiting for men to speak their minds.
"I just thought—maybe you would like to dance again." She blinked in disbelief at his unexpected invite. "With me, that is," he continued with a sheepish grin.
As with the first time, his offer surprised her. The conversation she expected to have was not happening. Vincent raised his eyebrows as he waited for her to answer. "Oh—of course, I would love to!" She excitedly jumped from her chair, waiting for him to do the same.
Just as he held an arm out to escort her, Reeve appeared with a balding man in an expensive gray suit in tow.
"Good evening, Tifa. My—well, I'm not shocked, but you are the brightest star in the sky. You look lovely, my dear." He planted a warm kiss on her cheek before he continued, "I hope you don't mind, but duty calls. Vincent, I'd like to introduce you to the CEO of Metal Solutions Inc," Reeve said as he gestured to the man with him. "If we could, we'd like to get your opinion on a vintage revolver, specifically the trigger mechanism. Tifa, I'm so sorry for stealing your dance partner, but WRO business is winning tonight."
He gave her an apologetic smile before telling Vincent they would be waiting across the ballroom, pointing to a poker table where several other executives were seated.
She stared at Vincent and bit her cheek to hide her disappointment. He clutched her hand, and for a moment, she thought he might bring it to his lips and kiss her. Vincent only smiled and covered her hand with both of his. "You look like a dream, by the way," he said with a regretful expression and then quickly followed Reeve.
For one moment, she forgot how to breathe. When she finally did, she privately cursed Reeve for ruining her chance to dance with Vincent again and felt his absence immediately.
Her solitude didn't last long. "Hun, are you still here by yourself? Molly asked as she plopped back down in her seat, and Pete stood guard behind her. "There are hundreds of men in this ballroom not dancing. You need to grab one and get on it, girl!"
"It's fine, Molly. The poker tables are too tempting," Tifa said with a wistfully heavy groan.
"Poker tables are tempting?" Molly asked incredulously. "Baby! What's wrong with all the men in here?" Pete immediately squatted next to his wife's chair the moment she said 'Baby' and gave her his full attention.
"I don't know, sweet. We're stupid." He kissed her on the lips as she tried to reply to his self-denigrating remark. Tifa giggled at his playfulness, thinking the two of them were perfect together. She looked away and swayed to the music coming from the orchestra, pretending her friends weren't making out next to her.
"Yo, Teefs—ma' Teefs!" Great—a drunk Yuffie was always her favorite Yuffie. The princess sat in the chair Vincent had vacated moments ago, placing a glass of wine in front of Tifa. She clanged the glasses together in a toast before taking a big gulp.
"Hey, Yuffie! You look so adorable! I love this yellow color on you!" Yuffie sprung from the chair at the compliment and twirled for Tifa to see her billowing skirt.
"Thanks, Teefs! You're looking shamelessly seductive, as always," Yuffie delivered the remark with no regrets. Tifa rolled her eyes and chose to ignore it. Yuffie had always spoken her mind, not caring if it was appropriate.
"Where's your husband?" Usually, the young woman kept close tabs on him; it was odd not to see him trailing after her.
"Yeah, well. He's got a table going," Yuffie said as she jammed a thumb over her shoulder. Yuri sat at a table in the distance, noticeably confident. He scanned his opponents' eyes for weaknesses while maintaining a textbook poker face. "He's kinda good at it. Who knew?"
Tifa suppressed a laugh but was glad for the distraction as she could hear Molly and Pete behind her continue to make kissy-face in an unabashed display of public affection.
"Let's go dance, Teefs."
"Aww, Yuffie. I'm kind of tired. I'll sit this one—" Before she could finish her excuse, Yuffie grabbed her by the hand and jerked her out of her seat. The diminutive ninja was much stronger than she looked.
"Nope, I don't think so, miss hot-stuff. You're coming with me, and we're gonna shake our asses." Tifa cringed at Yuffie's word choices.
The band launched into a disco, again music her parents had loved. Tifa beamed as Yuffie pulled her into multiple arm twists that her father had referred to as 'the pretzel.' They circled each other before fluidly rocking into dexterous hip and shoulder gyrations, much to the delight of few inebriated young men at a table close by. As the song ended, Yuffie irritably shot them some very naughty hand signs and followed Tifa back to her table.
"Gods, those guys are pervs!"
"Yeah," Tifa agreed before putting her arm around her young friend. "Seems maybe all the good ones are taken." She teased her with a pout and sat back down in her chair.
"Aww, don't say that, Tifa." Yuffie patted her on the shoulder and then suddenly clapped her hands together. "No, I know someone. He's perfect! And he likes to dance! Wait here!" She ran off before Tifa could object. Whoever he was would probably regret knowing Yuffie in a few seconds.
Tifa tasted her wine as Yuffie skittered off to find hell knows who. She glanced around the gala, searching for Vincent but no longer saw him, Reeve, or the Turks loitering around their gambling table.
It didn't take the little ninja long to return, hauling a young man behind her. "Hey, Teefs! This is Shad Taggert, Shad—this is my best friend Teefs. But you have to call her Tifa because you're not best friends." Yuffie spoke in a rush and then nodded at the two of them as though she had just bestowed upon them the most impressive royal reward. She stalked away without another word, returning to her husband and leaving Tifa again to deal with an awkward situation.
"So," he said as he looked down at Tifa. He was good-looking and fit, not terribly tall—but his grin was a little bizarre. She smiled back and politely waited for him to continue. "You wanna dance—or—uh?" He left the other option open as he gestured to the dance floor.
"That sounds nice. Of course." She stood and began walking away from the table, flinching when his hand met her lower back to guide her forward. She didn't necessarily mind the gesture, but it felt a little presumptuous; she only just met him.
She wasn't sure she was thankful or not, but a slow song began to play when they reached the floor. He awkwardly grabbed her waist and hand, swaying to the music, but otherwise showed no aptitude for musical expression.
She thought she should try small talk but found herself tongue-tied. Shad took the pressure off and spoke first. "You work for the WRO too? I don't think I've seen you around—at headquarters, maybe?" His question was innocent enough, but she didn't want to mention that she seldom worked with the WRO. The missions she usually accompanied were not for idle chatter.
"No, I run a bar—been there since shortly after meteor. You?"
"Oh, a bar, huh? I work at the hospital." His eyes lit up as his gaze traveled down her chest, not hiding his enjoyment of the view. Tifa felt mildly miffed over it but admitted that the dress attracted particular attention that wasn't always politely inconspicuous. Still, though—wasn't there an unspoken etiquette that men followed?
He didn't talk much during the rest of the dance, which made her grateful. He guided her back to her table, where Molly said they were ready to leave if she wanted to head out. Shad looked disappointed as Tifa agreed to ride with them.
Yuffie returned to the table just as they were doling out the 'nice to meet you' to Shad. "Alright, let's get the real party started at my place, right folks!" She hooted loudly and bumped Tifa with her hips. "You coming, Shad?"
"Yeah, I'll head out in a few. I guess I'll see you at Yuffie's?" Tifa nodded at his question, and Shad perked up as she confirmed their mutual destination. "Great! Can't wait!"
Tifa gave one last look around the gala for Vincent as Molly pulled her along to the exit. The couple thankfully left her to muse silently in the backseat as they drove to West Village. Confusion crossed her face as they stopped at Yuffie's house but did not park.
"Aren't you guys coming," she asked as she got out of the car.
"Oh, hun. I'm dead on my feet. Pete'll be by in a bit to make sure Cloud is there to give you a ride." Molly assured her. "I'll see you next week, ok?"
"I'll be over in a bit, Tifa. Just come over if you need me to give you a ride home. We're a few doors down." Once they left, Tifa trudged up the steps to Yuffie's residence, suddenly wishing she was headed home, too.
Yuffie bounced around her house, chit-chatting with everyone and directing Yuri to pass out little drinks with umbrellas. Tifa thankfully did not run into Shad and quietly drank from a fruity cocktail as she watched Yuffie's friends mingle. She spoke to few partygoers as the hours slogged by and grew irritable at Cloud's noticeable absence.
When Cloud finally arrived, he was accompanied by Kunsel, and the two quickly relieved Yuri of a handful of drinks. Tifa motioned them over, hoping to be rescued from the dull conversation she was having with a former ShinRa accountant.
"You two finally made it!" Cloud groaned at her observation. She scoffed at his response, not caring that she bothered him with the unspoken accusation at his delay. "So, how is Shalua doing?"
"She's ok," he said tersely. "Shelke was there and showed us a new hacking technique she's been working on. She fried my phone, though." He held up the device, and Tifa rolled her eyes. Not like Cloud used it very often.
"Can't believe you guys rescued someone down there," Kunsel said before he downed his umbrella drink. "Makes me want to start running missions again."
"Why don't you? Could've used you instead of Lux, that's for sure." Cloud had raged about Luxiere after realizing the man had abandoned them.
"Nah, can't anymore. Promised my girlfriend we were done with that life." Kunsel shrugged his shoulders and looked away when Cloud stared at him in disbelief. "What, man? I made a commitment."
"What's going on?" Tifa knew he was leaving something out.
"Ah—you know. The usual. We're getting married." They both looked at Kunsel in astonishment.
"Well, that's great, Kunsel!" Tifa hugged him before he could object to the congratulatory affection.
"Yeah, man. Grats!" Cloud patted him on the back, content to leave the affection at that.
"Thanks, guys. I'm anxious to get her back here. Just—not looking forward to the fallout when we finally return."
"Why would there be fallout? Does Reeve know?"
"Yeah, he knows, and he wasn't happy when I told him. But honestly, he's too nice a guy to say anything derogatory. It's the Turks. They have rules. Even for those who are no longer working." He looked around, making sure no one listened in. "Their official KIA list is bullshit. MIA, too. Anyway—I need to be moving out. I'm going back to Wutai in the morning."
"We'll walk out with you. Ready?" Cloud wasn't really asking Tifa. He likely only showed up to the party to pick her up so they could head right home.
"You should at least say bye to Yuffie," Tifa snapped at him. Anger boiled within her that he wanted to leave so soon after arriving and without being gracious enough to tell their hostess goodnight. She found the princess in her kitchen pulling frozen shots out of her freezer. "Hey Yuffie, sorry to drink and run, but we need to be heading out."
"What?" Yuffie nearly screamed at her. "Oh, wait! You can't. Remember Shad? He wanted to get your number. Yuri said he'll be here any minute!"
"Oh—umm, maybe next time, Yuffie. We're really tired, ok?" She kissed the younger woman on the cheek, leaving before Yuffie found someone else to throw at her.
Hurrying to catch up with Cloud, she stumbled in the heeled shoes. Tifa stopped in frustration and removed them from her aching feet, unaccustomed to wearing such footwear, let alone dancing. Tifa groaned upon seeing the truck parked a little distance away in front of a neighbor's house, furiously marching barefooted toward it in the chilled night air. It's like Cloud deliberately tried to piss her off sometimes.
The yards of these homes were much larger than Molly's, who lived only a few houses down the hill. She looked in the direction of her friend's house, where Cloud headed to talk to Pete. Tifa threw her shoes into the truck bed as she passed by, eyes scanning the neighbor's house. All the lights were out, and it appeared empty. She wondered if this was Vincent's house and inwardly chuckled at herself, thinking it strange she wasn't sure where he lived.
Although Vincent had been to the bar many times the last couple of months, Tifa had yet to visit his home. The invitation never having been offered; she left the subject untouched. It didn't bother her, truthfully. Vincent wasn't the type to have guests willingly. He likely hadn't thought to extend the welcome.
"Hey, girl. Where's your shoes?" Molly called out from her porch. Her friends thankfully lived so close to one another she could easily walk between them, and much easier now that her feet were free of restriction.
"I kicked them off and tossed them in the truck." Tifa pointed her thumb over her shoulder, walking up the porch to sit with Molly on the swing. "What're you up to?"
"Oh, you know. Just a night of dancing and drama like always," Molly joked, but Tifa noticed worry etched on her face.
The two women huddled close together to ward off the night's cold. "What's going on over there?" Tifa nodded toward the house across the street. Cloud stood with Pete close to the driveway's end, talking so softly they couldn't be overheard.
"Well, we got some neighborhood drama goin on across the street. Kunsel was here a minute talking to Pete in the garage—and the next thing we knew—Lux was yellin so loud we could hear him clear over here! I mean a' rantin and ravin about gods know what." Molly lowered her voice a tick when Pete looked at her over his shoulder and blew a kiss. Tifa guessed it was his gentle way to tell her to reduce the volume. She continued her gossip with a whisper, "so Kunsel hightailed it over there, but Pete stayed here with me. You know, because he and Lux don't get on well. Anyway, Kunsel's over there now."
"Hmm—I wonder if it has anything to do with the last mission." Tifa's brows creased as she recalled Luxiere's antics, putting them in severe and unnecessary danger.
"Oh, hun. I heard. Pete said Lux is on probation for another month. But this is the first night we heard him make a peep. I think he musta been drinkin with his biker buddies." Molly glanced toward their house, as though at any moment Luxiere or Liza might come storming out and accuse her of being a nosey busybody. "He's been hangin out with them a lot lately. Pete doesn't get on with them either. They were SOLDIERs too, but Reeve didn't recruit them like he did Pete and Kunsel. I think they musta got him riled up. They were over there drinkin and fussin earlier today."
Before Tifa could ask about the SOLDIERs, they heard shouting from the house. Pete and Cloud ran up the driveway when Luxiere loudly barreled into the garage, nearly tearing at his hair as he flailed his arms. Kunsel followed him out of the house, darting in front of the man with his arms held wide.
"No! No, Kunsel!" Luxiere raged as he jabbed his finger into Kunsel's chest, forcing the man back into the wall. "After what was done to us—this," he pointed at his eyes and continued, "it's proof of who we are. Maybe he was right. You know? Did you ever think of that? We are above them!"
"It doesn't change anything, Lux. What happened before? All of it? I get it. Everything will blow over if you just give it time. Reeve knows what he's doing." Kunsel held his hands up, trying in vain to placate his fellow SOLDIER.
Cloud and Pete hung back with guarded anticipation, warily observing Luxiere stalk back and forth in his garage. The man balled his fists, looking for anything to punch. Tifa and Molly watched from the yard, and Tifa put an arm around her friend's shoulder when she felt the woman shiver. Tifa knew they should keep their distance, being none too aware of the consequences of trying to confront a maddened SOLDIER.
"Reeve?! He fucking grounded me, Kunsel. Me! I haven't been promoted in over a year! But we gotta go with this poser to do our job, huh?" He pointed at Cloud with a sneer. His chest shook, and he couldn't stop the tears suddenly appearing in his eyes from falling onto his reddened cheeks. When he continued, his speech was subdued, barely audible. "All that shit that happened—what we lost. And for what?" He never looked away from Cloud as he spoke through the tears.
Cloud held his arms akimbo, looking as though he didn't care what Luxiere said about him in front of his friends. Tifa knew different. Cloud had wanted to be a SOLDIER. Even if he had changed his mind about working for ShinRa, he still enjoyed their friendship. And it made him proud that he had befriended many who had also been close with Zack Fair.
"So, this guy walks around with Angeal's sword—acting like the fucking savior," Luxiere spat out.
Kunsel approached him, hands held in front of his chest. "Hey now, Lux. We all know—"
"We don't know shit!" Luxiere glared at Kunsel, stopping him in his tracks. "What'd you do with that sword, huh?" He turned the glare back on Cloud. "I see you got a new one now. You lose it? Break it? You know who it belonged to? Do you have any fucking idea, poser?!" Luxiere changed his stance to charge at Cloud with his last word, but Kunsel rushed at him, keeping him back with arms around his waist.
Luxiere stopped struggling when a small voice called out from the door. "Lux?" Liza emerged out of the house wearing a t-shirt that barely hung on her shoulders. Tifa drew in a shocked breath at how skeletal the woman had become. Her belly should be rounded and visible, but Tifa could hardly see any flesh on the woman at all.
Luxiere quickly wiped his tears at the sound of his wife's voice. "Hey, babe," he uttered in a gentle voice, sniffling as he turned to look at her with a weak smile. "I'll be just a minute. Talking with the guys, ok?"
"I don't feel so good, Lux." Tifa could barely hear her speaking. She clutched at her belly and headed back inside. Before she made it, she vomited, her small body coiling in at her stomach. Luxiere rushed to her side and pulled her hair out of her face. Once her tummy was empty, she wept. He lifted her into his arms and carried her inside the house without looking back at the others.
Tifa's heart broke for them. Liza's body was not handling the pregnancy well, and the stress of it was evident. She had never known Luxiere to be a genuinely nice guy, but his actions showed he worried for his wife's well-being. Molly guided Tifa back up to her porch, and they sat on the swing again, quietly watching the three men talking in hushed tones in the street.
After a few minutes, Luxiere appeared in his garage again, carrying his wife close to his chest. He placed her into their little car and glared at the others as he walked to the driver's side. He said nothing to them, only pulled out of the drive and headed out of the neighborhood. Tifa guessed they were going to the hospital.
She looked at her friend, glad that so far, Molly hadn't experienced the same. "Don't you dare," Molly snapped at her, giving Tifa a stern look. "I'm fine—so don't you dare. You hear me?" Tifa nodded with a gentle smile and hugged her. "Tell me what's going on with that tall drink of water."
"Who?" Tifa studied her friend's face, wondering who she referred to.
"Like you don't know. Mr. Valentine—who else?" Molly gave her a lopsided grin with a single brow arched. Tifa dramatically looked to the ceiling and shook her head, unable to come up with anything to say. "Oh, come on. What is it? Huh?"
"Nothing!" Tifa's voice lilted upward at the word. She hadn't thought that anyone noticed anything between them. Maybe trying to mask her feelings was more challenging than she imagined. Molly looked at her with a dubious expression, practically glaring at Tifa in hopes of getting more information. "Fine—you noticed him too, huh?"
"He's kinda hard to miss, especially when he lives next door." Molly indicated her head toward the house their truck sat in front of, and Tifa's eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline. "Yeah, that's right. Mr. Tall and Mysterious lives next door to yours truly. And I didn't miss the way you look at him."
"I don't look at him in a way," Tifa insisted as she stared at the house, knowing Molly didn't believe her.
"Uh-huh," Molly nudged her with an elbow. "Even Pete is infatuated with him! He joins their security team some days when they're clearin out that Deepground nonsense. Always Vincent this and Vincent that. I think Pete has a major crush. I'm tellin ya, between the two of ya, I'm startin to fall in love!"
Before Tifa could retort, Pete climbed up the porch and pulled his wife to her feet. "Who do I have a crush on?" Pete lifted his wife's chin to stare at her in fake outrage.
"Oh, you know, just Mr. Valentine next door. Don't look at me like that, Pete Samuels! You know you wanna have his babies!" She fought his hands off as Pete tried to tickle her ribs.
Tifa giggled at the two of them, always happy to see their love play out in front of her eyes. "I'm gonna get out of here. You two need to get inside with that lewd behavior!"
"Oh, fine. Come here, girl," Molly said as she pushed Pete away and grabbed Tifa's hands. "Go on—get home. That's enough drama for one night," Molly said as she gave Tifa another hug.
Tifa joined Cloud and Kunsel in the street, the two still talking about the events with Luxiere. "I may have to bring this up with the commissioner," Kunsel was saying when she stopped next to Cloud.
"Think he'll get fired?"
"I don't know, man." Kunsel scratched at the back of his head irritably. "Reeve is such a nice guy, don't get me wrong. But something's been off about Luxiere for a long, long time. And Reeve is a promoter of second chances. I just don't know if Lux is headed in the right place mentally. He suffers from some serious PTSD."
"Maybe he's just anxious about his wife?" Tifa offered, but she knew that was a flimsy excuse. The guy had been a bit of a jerk since she'd known him. Even if that was only the last few years.
"He loves her—I'll give him that much." Kunsel gave Tifa a weak smirk. His eyes lit up suddenly as he glanced back at Cloud. "Oh hey, before I forget—I saw that mechanic earlier today at the store. He just received a new shipment of ATV tires if you want to have the first crack at them."
"I ordered a new set, but he hadn't called me yet." Cloud's eyes perked up, and she knew he felt relieved to the change in subject.
Leaving the two talk in private, she walked back up the street toward the truck. Tifa stared up at Vincent's house, thinking it predictably dark. She scanned the windows, looking for any sign that he might be home. Seeing only the dimmed streetlights reflected at her, she fished her shoes out of the truck bed instead of trying to guess where he slept. She leaned against the truck and waited for Cloud to finish talking to Kunsel, annoyed that he locked the doors and she couldn't climb in to avoid the cold night air.
Cloud's early departure from the gala baffled Vincent. The young man had no sense of decorum. His insensitivity left Tifa abandoned without an escort. Vincent had been equally confused when Cloud parked the little green truck in front of his house but assumed he had shown up to take Tifa home. Vincent couldn't imagine Cloud wanting to attend Yuffie's party for any other reason.
As the drama unfolded down the street, Vincent moved onto his porch. His experience with raging SOLDIERs left him wary, and Luxiere seemed on the brink. Vincent relaxed when Kunsel intervened, and Cloud and Pete kept a watchful eye in front of the house. When he saw the car drive away, Vincent exhaled in relief. No village would burn tonight.
He didn't mind living next to ShinRa's former SOLDIERs, Pete especially. Vincent had grown to like him during their numerous raids into Deepground. The young man was eager for battle and a competent leader. He professionally handled each new surprise they uncovered in their sweep of the underground facility—and there were many surprises.
Luxiere was quite a different matter. His actions showed a man disgruntled with life. He displayed poor judgment in the face of danger and no remorse or reflection for his mistakes. Vincent got the feeling his loyalty could be questioned if his friends were anything to consider.
A rustling sound caught his attention from the sidewalk where Tifa walked alone toward his house. He watched her in silence, which had become a favorite pastime of his over the last couple of months. She lifted the skirts of her beautiful dress, walking tip-toed to prevent the hem from dragging on the dirty pavement. As she approached, he caught a glimpse of bare feet and smiled at the nymphlike vision the moonlight gave her appearance. He fought an odd urge to call out to her and offer to help find her shoes—or maybe even carry her if perhaps her feet were sore.
Vincent shook his head slightly, chuckling at himself for the ridiculous thoughts that popped into his head. There's that adolescent daydream again. And just like in his adolescence, uncertainty crept in, and he wondered if she wanted to speak to him or if he had blundered in some curious way.
Tifa had seemed strange at the gala, as though something had upset her, discomfort evident in her conversation with him. She had that same look on her face as she had in the past when Cloud would make an insensitive remark—or when Cloud became flustered at another woman's flirtations. Vincent tried to recall if he may have inadvertently said or done something to cause her annoyance with him. But he was no good with women. He'd proven that long ago.
The moment they might have had at the gala folded with Reeve's poker game. And just his luck, by the time he had returned to her table, she was dancing with another man. Old self-doubt permeated his thoughts, shredding his confidence in their growing friendship.
He couldn't muster up enough courage to step off the doorstep, suddenly insecure about how to approach her and worried that he had made matters worse at the gala. Should he have dodged Reeve's request and remained with Tifa? But fate always had a way of making decisions for him.
His phone chimed and buzzed in his pocket, finally waking after days of peace and quiet. Tifa looked up, the sound so loud it carried to her in the stillness of the night air and over the faint sounds of Yuffie's party a short distance away.
Unable to continue hiding, he stepped down and walked toward her in the grass. She seemed reluctant—unsure but pushed off the truck and ambled over to him. The notifications continued to sound off alarms. Tifa gave him a lopsided grin as she stared at his pocket, following the noise with her eyes. "Reminds me of Cloud's phone sometimes when he turns it on after a few days."
Embarrassed at the comparison, Vincent rifled through his pockets to free the device. He glanced at it briefly, showing Tifa an astonished reaction as it continued to deliver messages. He gave the notifications a minute to catch up and looked at the number in annoyance. 107 messages? How can they have so much to say?
He opened the log, thinking he would only clear the group chat, but paused when he saw 3 unread from Tifa—private messages. A dreadful feeling washed over him, and somehow, he knew her behavior would be explained with the messages. He opened them, reading quickly with some disbelief at her invitation. This had to be the reason she was upset. He closed his eyes at his own stupidity. Why didn't he simply mute the group? What an idiot.
He looked at her with a rueful expression in his eyes. "Sorry I didn't see your messages before. I muted the service for a few days." Was that the best thing to say right now?
"That's obvious." She looked away and laughed, but it was tinged with a hint of exasperation. That was an emotion she usually reserved for Cloud, not what he wanted to hear for himself. Vincent wanted—needed to fix this. "I don't blame you. Sometimes they can get crazy with the group chat." She flashed a small smile meant to ease his hurt at her statement, but he felt chagrined at his blunder.
"Let me make it up to you," he offered, not entirely sure what he meant by that, but he was willing to try and smooth things over.
"Oh, don't worry about it. Things worked out." Although she was giving him an easy out, disappointment seeped through her words. "Just thought you might need a place to sit but looked like you were busy anyway." Her words were a little curt, masking the hurt he thought must be present.
"Trust me, your company would have been a welcome alternative. I'll make it up to you and bring takeout." Not his best plan, but he really was at a loss how to mollify her. "Forgive me?" She smiled in response, appearing to accept his mistake with the doe-eyed look she gave him.
She paused a few moments, as though considering his apology before letting out a conceding exhale. "Yeah, I forgive you, Vincent," she said finally, swiping a naked foot over the cool grass and gazing up at him with a slight simper flashing across her lips.
The muffled music suddenly increased in volume as a door to his rowdy neighbor's home opened. Yuffie appeared on her porch, staring in their direction. This was not going to be good.
"Tifa! Hey, you guys!" She waved, then sprinted toward them, yelling the whole way and oblivious to the hour and slumbering neighbors. "Teefs! Vincent!"
An audible groan escaped from Vincent's throat. Tifa smirked at him, and her shoulders shook almost imperceptibly with a small laugh.
Yuffie stopped just before them, panting with her hands on her knees. "Oh man," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "I thought you—were leaving!"
"Well, we were, but then we had to say goodbye to Molly and Pete," Tifa said, pointing to her friend's house. "And now Cloud is talking to Kunsel—"
"Whatever—I caught you. Come on—back to my house. We need another couple." She stood up with hands on her hips, taking in large gulps of air to steady her chest.
"Couple?" He glanced at Tifa, uncertain how she felt about the title. Vincent caught a small tilt to the side of her mouth and may have imagined her biting the inner part of her bottom lip.
"Yeah, I'm teaching everyone a Wutaiin folk dance, but we need another couple. So, come on!" Yuffie crossed her arms with a petulant expression. "I'm not letting you get back to whatever secret conversation you were having until you come with me! It'll only take 10 minutes," she said, rolling her eyes at the glare Vincent directed at her.
"It's late and —" he started, but she hurriedly cut him off.
"And what? You gotta sleep? Haven't you done that enough?" She snickered, shaking her head incredulously. "Besides, I know you can dance. I saw you at my wedding! Now, come on!"
He didn't get the chance to argue as Tifa suddenly grabbed his hand. "Come on, let's do it." She dragged him after the princess, skipping toward the house where a small crowd had gathered in the backyard.
"Ok, you two stand here and me, Yuri and Kim and Yoko—we're gonna stand over here. And you guys can stay on my other side," Yuffie said to another pair of couples. "We're gonna all stand in a circle but first—a demonstration."
Yuffie nodded at her husband, and he bowed before her as she curtsied. Kim's movements matched Yuri's, and both young men stepped forward, taking their partner's opposite hand.
"Alright, so watch us," Yuffie continued. "And we're gonna do a turn like this. And then grab my waist, turn—turn—turn. Grab the other hand, then turn—turn—turn. Now hold both hands, bend at the knee, and light kick to this side—then kick to the other side. Clap three times. Then hold close and spin—spin—spin. Watch—he grabs my hand from behind my back—then pull and turn—handoff to the next guy!"
Kim took Yuffie's hand and started the sequence again while Yuri pretended to do the same with an invisible partner. "Ok, let's start over, and I'll show you guys one more time."
It was an older dance that Vincent recognized, one that had survived through modern times from days of conservative courtship and engagements. The dance had been taught to him in school. He had never had the opportunity to use the lessons until now. This is how things happened with Yuffie. Always the unexpected. Vincent was only participating because Tifa insisted, which meant he could hold her again. Something he had thought of doing every night since the wedding.
Yuffie positioned them all into a large ring, the women situated on the inside. Tifa bounced excitedly before him with a radiant grin, her earlier gloomy mood lifted. Vincent smiled as she couldn't help the giggle escaping her lips. Tifa's eyes lit up in anticipation as Yuffie nodded toward a friend near the outdoor stereo to start the music.
An older Wutaiian song began to play, one his parents had loved. Happiness enveloped him as he took Tifa's hand into his and began to turn her in time to the music's slow rhythm. She gave him an adoring look, smiling as his arm wrapped around her waist and slowly spun as them as one. Their noses nearly touched, but then she moved away when he grabbed her other hand and turned her.
Tifa giggled when they clapped. His ears caught her sudden intake of breath when he pulled her closer than before, pressing her body nearly flush with his own. He momentarily leaned his forehead against hers as they again turned in a close embrace. A slow exhale escaped her lips, tickling his cheek when he snaked an arm around her waist. He reluctantly grabbed her opposite hand and spun her into Yuri's waiting arms, eyes never leaving hers as he repeated the dance with his new partner.
Vincent watched her, spinning, turning, and twirling as the song played on and the women were passed between the men. He all but lost concentration on the dance every time one of her feet peeked out from beneath her dress. He anticipated the moment she would make her way back to him. To his pleasant surprise, she watched him too, as neither took notice of their alternating partners.
He held his breath when she returned to him and sought out his hand in the exchange. Vincent finally inhaled when he grasped her waist again. They circled together, completing the sequence with gentle embraces and lingering stares.
The small crowd in the yard clapped as the song ended. Yuffie nearly jumped on Tifa, almost knocking her down as Vincent held her upright to steady her from the sudden attack.
"That was so fun!" Yuffie yelled as she clutched Tifa in a tight hug. "Thank you guys so much!" Before Vincent could remove himself, the princess latched an arm around his neck and pulled the two together for a group hug. "We should do this more often! Ok—let's drink. Tifa, come on! Shad is here somewhere!"
Vincent briefly wondered who Shad was but felt relieved when Yuffie rushed inside, followed by a small entourage of friends. "That was fun," Tifa said, still standing close enough for him to smell her sweet perfume. "Maybe we should do that a little more?"
Vincent continued to hold onto her arm and nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a good suggestion to me." This time she did bite her lip, and he felt an involuntary lopsided grin spread up the side of his face and a tiny lump form in this throat.
"Tifa?"
Their heads snapped in unison to the sound of Cloud's voice. The younger man slowly came to a stop several feet from where they stood, concern etched into his features.
"Oh, Cloud," Tifa said, flustered at the interruption. "Yuffie wanted to show us a dance." Cloud continued to watch her with a worried expression and didn't look at Vincent at all. Obviously, the blonde had an issue with their proximity. Vincent pressed his lips into a thin line, knowing that one day soon, Cloud would voice the annoyance he showed every time Vincent so much as looked at Tifa.
"You ready? Time to go home." With that statement, he did finally look up at Vincent. It was hard to miss the intensity of the hard look Cloud gave him. Tifa seemed to notice it too and let out an exasperated breath.
"Yeah, fine. Ok, Cloud. I'm coming." As Cloud reluctantly walked away, giving Tifa a tiny imploring look, she faced Vincent with a wistful smile. "I guess this is goodnight." She shrugged and tilted her head at him.
"Guess so." He peered down at her, then hesitantly wrapped an arm around her back and lightly kissed her cheek. "See you tomorrow?"
Her eyes darted between his, mouth sensual as she bit down on that lip again. He fought an urge to palm her cheek and glide his thumb along her bottom lip. Although she moved away, Vincent discerned a reluctance in her retreat.
Tifa slowly nodded, eyes never leaving his as cold air filled the space between them. His hand glided along her back and down her arm as she pulled away. Their hands slid slowly together, and then the fingertips—prolonging this small goodnight—but awakening the unspoken connection developing between them. Realization dawned in her eyes as she turned away. Now, without a doubt, she knows.
He slowly trailed after her as she followed Cloud to their truck. The two hopped into the vehicle, and she waved at him as they pulled away. Vincent scanned the street as familiar loneliness crept back in at her absence. He plodded into his house and readied for bed.
Vincent had realized his developing feelings for Tifa weeks ago. His innocent dinner plans did nothing to change their relationship in her eyes; at least, he thought so until tonight. And maybe he didn't really understand women, but he hadn't felt this tug at his chest in an awfully long time. He had noticed nuances in her behaviors toward him too. Giggling, blushing, coquettish eyes—all things she would playfully reserve for Yuffie or her girlfriend, Molly. But flirtations she was careful to minimize or flat-out refuse her male friends and customers. Men were easily encouraged.
But he didn't doubt that he'd been on the receiving end of tender reactions from her lately—since the wedding. Something about her changed toward him, just as his feelings had started to change. The problem was—could he do anything about it? Their obstacles were obvious. Mostly on his part. What he is. What's been done to him.
Then the other hurdle—her relationship with Cloud. It may not be romantic in nature, but the two of them still held on to each other, an obligation more than need. It would be risky to point out.
He slowly dragged his thumb across his lower lip, wishing moments like tonight could last longer. Unfortunately, the world was still a mess. The Nibelheim mission was finally set to begin in a couple of days, and he needed to start focusing on it. Tifa did too. He hoped they were up for it.
Vincent stretched onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, placing his arms under his head. He forced his eyes closed. After a deep breath, he drifted into a dream of dancing in a moonlit yard with a dark-haired beauty, her bare feet peeking from beneath a deep green summer dress as he held her in his arms.