Chapter 82, February – December, εуλ0013

The ringing next to her ear was muffled, but insistent.

"Whaaa-" Tifa woke up groggy and disoriented. Blinking and shaking her head, memory slowly came back with the sunlight, now streaming through the same opening in the roof through which they'd watched the stars the night before. The flowers beside her seemed to be stretching to grasp its rays.

"Damn PHS," mumbled the male chest underneath her head, and an arm snaked across her to pat the crumpled clothing on the other side, finally locating the offending item.

"I left mine at home," Tifa admitted.

"If we didn't have kids, I would have too," Cloud grumbled. His arm hooked around her head and rested on her shoulder, neatly curling her close to him as he looked at the called ID. "There's one of them now." He flipped over the phone with a curt "Yeah," waiting for the person on the other end to speak first.

A person who certainly was used to that from Cloud.

"Clo-ud," began the boy's voice on the other end – breaking in mid-syllable, a sure sign he was becoming a man. Tifa was surprised; she'd expected Marlene to be the one to call.

"Everything OK at home, Denzel?"

"Yeah. Going to the park. Leaving breakfast for you guys," Denzel said, aping his adopted father's terse speaking habits.

"Okay."

"Can we say hi to Tifa too?"

Cloud turned to the naked woman in his arms, wondering if it was really appropriate to be talking to their children in their current state. "Uh. OK. Here."

"Nah, just hold the phone away from you guys for a moment." The shoulder under Tifa shrugged and complied.

"Hi, Tifa!" Marlene's voice carried loudly through from the other end. "Don't worry about a thing! We were fine on our own! We drew and made a pillow tent and all kinds of fun stuff, and we only did in the kitchen what you said was okay and Denzel made spaghetti and it was really good! …and we kept Papa's and Elmyra's numbers by the phone…" As Marlene chattered on, Tifa couldn't help but exchange a smile with the man next to her.

This man. Her husband. Last night felt almost like a dream; with the morning upon them, she wasn't sure what to make of it all. But Cloud and she, now husband and wife… the thought sent warm thrills through her.

Denzel came back on. "We love you guys!" they sang in unison. "Don't rush! Take your time!"

Tifa was about to say goodbye, but Cloud beat her to it. "We love you guys too. We'll be home soon enough." His lovely voice, so meltingly soft. She snuggled her nose into the warmth of her chest, and as he snapped the phone shut, his other arm wrapped around her to encircle her completely.

Yes, she could stay like this for a while…

"I think they knew what we were up to last night," he mused. "I hadn't really planned to fall asleep. Guess it's lucky I brought the bedroll."

"Mmmm," was all Tifa had to say.

Comfortable though they were, eventually they had to make the decision to leave. As they slowly dressed, a sparkle caught her eye, drawing her gaze to the Buster sword – silent in the darkness the night before, now glowing brilliant in the light.

Cloud followed her gaze; he reached up to caress her cheek. "Our only two wedding guests."

"The only ones we needed," Tifa agreed.

With some reluctance, they exited the church. Cloud chivalrously offered his bride a hand to mount the bike – no romantic white horse, but it was more than enough to get the two of them back home.

She hugged him more tightly than ever on the ride back, a sensation not unwelcome as Cloud relished that simple act of trust – of connection.

A connection he wanted only to grow more.

They arrived back to an empty house – but not an unwelcoming one. The kitchen was, indeed, as sparkling clean as promised. But the table was laid out with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a few mismatched beers. Cutout pink and red paper hearts littered the table cheerfully, along with a note from Marlene. ("This is the best we could do for breakfast Enjoy! We heart you!"

"Why beer?" wondered Cloud.

Tifa shrugged. "I keep the hard stuff and wine locked up. This must have been all they could get access to."

"Seems reasonable." Cloud took a seat and examined the selection, finally choosing one of the lukewarm beers to offer his wife before picking one for himself. "You realize this means they probably knew EXACTLY what we were doing last night."

Tifa turned as pink as the hearts. "I think, like most kids ever, they like to imagine we're the only parents NOT doing it." She scanned the table. "Hardly a typical wedding morning."

"Well, it wasn't exactly a typical wedding," Cloud reasoned. He thought for a minute. "Did we even HAVE weddings in Nibelheim?"

"Not that many," Tifa replied. "Lots of people met their spouses out of town, other villagers at least. It would have been too inbred otherwise."

"Well, my parents weren't from there, so I guess I'm safe. But what about you? Were your uncles and cousins kissing each other all the time?" he teased.

"Cloud!" Tifa gave him a fake punch in the arm, mock-offended. "Besides, there were some great-grandparents from off somewhere. We were never too sure where. Maybe Wutai, for all we know."

"You never told me that. Does this mean you're related to Yuffie? If so, it's over," he deadpanned.

Tifa laughed. "Yeah, sure, Cloud, I'm next in line for the Wutaian throne. It must have slipped my mind."

Cloud laughed along with her, looking over her marital breakfast. "So what are you supposed to do the morning after a wedding, anyway?"

"Beats me. More sex?" Tifa shrugged.

"Sounds good to me." Cloud smirked. "Do you want to go upstairs, or should we just do it right here on the kitchen table?

"I think maybe we should eat what is on the kitchen table," Tifa said primly. "Then, we can negotiate."

Cloud scooched his chair closer to her, taking a cookie; the sweet taste mingled surprisingly well with the pleasant buzz of the beer. Eventually both ran out, and softly drunk and eagerly anticipating the next step, they headed upstairs to their bedroom.

Marlene and Denzel had been there, too. A present left on the dresser, even more charming for the sloppy way it was wrapped. Cloud handed it to Tifa, putting his arm around her as they sat down on the bed to open it together.

Inside was a dual-sided picture frame. On the left was one of Marlene's updated drawing s of the two of them together – her skill had far improved from the time when only a yellow crayon and a smile distinguished the two of them. And on the right…

"Oh, my," Tifa murmured, stroking one finger across the photo.

Cloud looked hard and long. Denzel must have snuck that photo at the Meteor fall party, but he had no idea when. He didn't know what he had been saying to Tifa, but her smile was bright and wide. And for himself…

Tifa just stared at the photo of Cloud. Denzel had gotten just the right angle to capture both of their expressions. Cloud's smile was only slight… but his heart showed completely in his eyes.

She suddenly choked up. "That's really the way they see us." She could feel the tears, happy ones, beginning to fill her eyes.

Cloud's own eyes were dry, but intent. "I think… that if I didn't already know who this was a picture of… I'd say… these are two people who are going to be very happy together." He turned to her, the softness in his eyes melting her heart even further.

He gently took the frame from her hands, placing it carefully back on the dresser. Turning back, he laid her with him back on the bed and began to kiss, to touch, all the motions of love, knowing that it was really love they were making.

Cloud discovered he absolutely loved being able to think of himself as a husband.

It was a subtle shift, one that took some getting used to. A touch of the hand, a look in the eye. Small things that reminded him that yes, she was his, and she was his for keeps. He'd wanted this marriage, yes – but he'd needed to truly understand what marriage meant first. The concept of having a wife. That happy times and fights were both part of getting to know each other , a little more every day.

He found himself looking at her in a different wat. He'd catch a glance and automatically think to himself, she's my responsibility now – a surge of pride, of ownership, a long possession where he knew the burden of his happiness was on him.

And then those times when she'd look up and her smile would brighten, and all he could think was, she really does love me.

It was easier to believe know. He somehow just knew, of course he knew before, but this was a different sort of knowing, something deeper within his soul, that she had chosen to belong to him as much as he had always belonged to her.

The excitement, the spark, was still there - but there was more of the simple, easygoing way they were part of each other's lives. The children too, but first and foremost the two of them, the glue holding the family together.

It froze him in his tracks the first time he heard her use the words to someone else, my husband. It was to a man at the bar one night. He had been heading up the stairs, only catching a snippet of conversation, his ears pricking up at the trigger word as casual conversation letting him know that she valued their vow just as much as he.

Lovemaking experienced a new kind of tenderness, a need to have her as close as possible inside and out. He'd embrace her tightly as he loved her body with his own, his need to feel her near, warm and loving and alive.

There was no denying it. The kids were getting older. They had stabilized as a family, but one thing bothered Tifa terribly.

What about Barret?

She'd taken over Marlene's care when things were rough; she'd learned to love the girl as her own. But Barret had a more stable life now, working in Corel, and she wondered if Marlene might want to go back to the place where she was born.

With her papa.

It would break her heart.

She was agonizing back and forth, finally realizing - she really needed to talk to Cloud about it, too. It had been five years Marlene had been with them. Cloud was as much a part of the girl's life now as she was.

And Cloud immediately came up with the answer that had been evading her. "Why don't we just ask Marlene herself?"

Together they gathered their little family; Cloud and Tifa plopped down on the couch, Denzel on the armchair facing. Marlene remained standing, looking anxiously from one to the other.

"But what about Denzel?" she asked, worried.

"It's alright, Marlene, whatever you want – " but Marlene quickly interrupted. "No, Denzel! I can't leave you alone!"

She looked from Cloud to Tifa and back, almost in tears. "You're not going to make me, are you? Did Papa say something?"

"Of course not!" Tifa leapt up to embrace her daughter. "We haven't asked Barret. We wanted to talk to you about it first."

"I don't want to break our family apart," Marlene sniffled, sliding out of Tifa's arms.

To her surprise, it was Cloud that stood and walked over her to her, pulling her into the same comforting arms Tifa had felt wrapped around herself so many times. Had Cloud ever even hugged Marlene before?" "Not one is going to break our family apart. No one," he assured her, shooting Tifa a look of promise that said he meant that with all his heart.

"Thank you," Marlene muffled into his shirt, letting Cloud's safety encompass her for a few moments more before pulling away.

"Do you want us to tell Barret?" Tifa offered.

Marlene thought for a minute; tears were now fading away. "I'd better tell him myself."

The decision was made; she hoped Barret would take it okay. Tifa couldn't help the feeling that she was cheating Barret some, but at the same time she was glad that the family she'd worked so hard to create would stay together… with she and Cloud now stronger than ever.

The sun's rays were still strong as they slanted over two lover's bodies intertwined. Tifa sighed in satisfaction as she nestled her head into Cloud's naked chest, settled into his arms.

Cloud was rapidly rediscovering that being in bed with Tida was his favorite place to be. Being in bed with Tifa nalekd was even better. Was it possible to ever get tired of this? Sex was different from sex with Tifa was different from sharing a bed with her – the nuances that made their relationship what it was.

After all, she was the one with whom he'd really learned to make love.

He'd heard other guys fell asleep after this… and he couldn't understand why they'd want to miss out, seeing her satiated and smiling and drowsy in his arms. And knowing HE was the one who had done this to her was the best part of all.

For a moment he thought he'd accidently spoken out loud as she raised up her head. "I like you like this. Happy. Smiling."

"I am?" Cloud asked, surprised.

She answered with a kiss. "Was it good for you?"

He exhaled sharply, half sigh, half moan. "It's either good or better."

She smiled right back, and as she closed her eyes, he lay a sweet kiss on her brow.

He like that with her for a long time, just holding her. Taking pleasure in the deepening of their emotional bond that happened every time they were together this way. Another promise that his was for good.

"Tifa," he suddenly whispered, "I'm going to be a good husband to you."

She shifted, her beautiful eyes opening in shy surprise. "Thank you," she finally told him – and somehow it meant more than if she'd said I know you will or Of course or anything else of the absolute faith she always put in him. This was her acknowledgement that he would try and fumble but at the end of the day it was a simple statement of fact – he would be a good husband. He would.

Even more than a promise, it was truth.

"I love you," she told him, simple sweet words of affirmation. "Do you love me?" she suddenly asked, a remembrance of words she'd asked long ago. A question he'd never truly answered. He shifted to move her onto her elbows, taking her face in her hands above him.

"Tifa, I have always loved you. That has never changed. One of my regrets is all those months ago, when you asked me while you thought I was asleep…" Tifa's eyes went wide; she hadn't realized he'd heard. "was that I should have shaken you awake and made love to you over and over until you knew it too deep inside to doubt."

A flash of hurt crossed her face, and he knew that she knew exactly when he was talking about. "I didn't think you remembered," she said softly.

He looked at her seriously, soft blue love. "I never forget anything you say."

And once again Tifa was struck by this sometimes- strange man she had tied her heart to, and the ways he could surprise her still.

She ducked her head down closer, her lips just grazing his ears. "You're the only one I've ever truly made love to," she whispered.

His response was electric. Gripping her waist in both hands to roll her over and gently parting her legs, thinking that there was nothing more important than making her feel as good as possible. Soon enough, he was rewarded with her cries and whimpers as he loved her in all the ways she deserved.

"Can you call Cloud and Tifa down for dinner?" Denzel asked.

He'd taken responsibility for the cooking tonight, wanting the practice. He'd been steadily learning Tifa's recipes, then branching out into trying his own. Now dinner was happily burbling in the back while Marlene powered over the papers in front of her. Some of the local parents had begun volunteering to teach children in groups, rather than all being individually homeschooled; it gave the children a chance to get to know each other better and help each other learn.

Denzel was okay with the new concept of "homework." Marlene wasn't.

She looked up from where she'd been doodling in the margins of a page of numbers. "I went up a little while ago. The door is locked."

"Again?" asked Denzel, exasperated. "Do they ever do anything else?"

"I think it's romantic," Marlene protested, dreamy-eyed.

"I just…" Denzel didn't quite want to repeat what he'd heard the Other. Boys. Saying. About. Girls. "I don't really like to think about Cloud doing those things to Tifa."

Marlene let her pen drop, and gave Denzel a snarky look. "Did you ever think Tifa might WANT those things done to her?"

Denzel was taken momentarily aback. "Marlene, you can be a real brat sometimes, you know that?"

Even worse was that HE was starting to think about maybe doing those things to girls. It didn't help that Mina had started to change, growing up in new ways that he couldn't avoid seeing. She's my best friend! But ha was starting to wonder… could she be more?

After all, Cloud and Tifa had been childhood friends too, right?

He tried to remember what Cloud and Barret had said. It's something you do for and with a woman. Maybe… uh… did girls want to do those things too? Marlene was too young to ask, and hell no was he asking Tifa such a thing.

He guessed for the moment, he was kinda on his own.

"I'll go get them," he said, coming around to the front of the bar, but before he reached the foot of the stairs, a door opened and closed and footsteps descended towards them.

Cloud and Tifa entered the bar, looking slightly abashed as they met the knowing glances on the faces of their waiting children.

"Had fun?" Marlene piped up brightly. Cloud looked away; Tifa turned bright red.

(Truthfully, Marlene thought to herself, the whole thing still sounded pretty gross. She'd told Tifa that; Tifa had only smiled. "Don't worry about it until you're ready," she had said. "Right now, just know it feels nice to be touched by someone you love.")

Denzel, horrified, desperately wanted to change the subject. "Dinner's ready," he proudly announced. "Tifa, I want you to try what I added to your stew." A relieved family filed into the kitchen, together helping set the table as Denzel brought out his creation.

The hot topic of the family's conversation was the new construction they were adding to their home. It had begun some months before, when Cloud and Tifa had realized that Marlene and Denzel were simply getting too old to be sharing a room together.

They'd tossed around ideas, with Cloud reluctantly making peace with the idea of giving up his office, when Denzel had finally proposed the most obvious solution: Build another room.

They'd tacked it onto the back of the preexisting living-room extension, giving Denzel a near-cavelike space at the end of the hall. Tifa had openly worried about Denzel being so far from the rest of the family; when he'd assured her he was old enough, she'd gone misty-eyed.

Cloud, however, had totally understood.

It was only a couple weeks away for the big final move; and Denzel was kind of sad about it. Marlene had decided not to move away from him, but here he was moving away from her.

But as he looked over at his sister happily chowing down on a bowl of the dinner he'd made, he realized it wasn't all that far. They really were a family for good.

Barret strode through Edge, away from the spot where he'd expected Cid to be waiting to fly back to Corel. Cid hadn't been there; the lack of response on his PHS meant he was somewhere up in the air, but Barret had no idea how far away that might be.

What the Hades. The Highwind was fast. He probably didn't have more than an hour or two to kill.

He didn't want to go back to Seventh Heaven. It was always bittersweet saying goodbye to Marlene; this was especially bad, since Marlene had explained to him how Cloud and Tifa had offered to let her go live with Barret, and she had decided to stay. A tough pill to swallow, though Barret knew it was the right decision; the reasons he'd left her with Tifa hadn't changed. She needed a mother; the more so in the years ahead, and Marlene grew into a woman and needed advice Barret had no idea how to give.

(Besides, you're taking care of her as well as I can," Barret had told Cloud; leaving the other man flabbergasted and unsure if the compliment was real.)

So instead had been wandering the streets, marveling at how far Edge had come since he and Tifa and Cloud had arrived to build it up from shreds. There wasn't much of that left; Midgar's scrap was slowly diminishing, absorbed by Edge's voracious appetite for growth.

"Hello there, big man."

Barret turned at the prickling sound of a familiar voice. He remembered her immediately. Madam M. Though he'd only met her once, she was the sort to leave an impression. She maybe wasn't as impeccably dressed as last time, but the essence was there – the coiffed hair, the curve hugging kimono, the ubiquitous black fan.

But what was she doing here in Edge?

"You're a long way from Wall Market," Barret observed.

"Business is business." She motioned to a building behind her, indistinguishably gray like the rest except for a gold-etched sign Barret was only now noticing. "Wall Market has dried up. No Shinra money to keep it flowing, and regular people can't afford my former level of services."

"You still do hand massages, then?" That was all Barret really know about her. Cloud had flatly refused to say more.

"Rarely. I have girls who work for me, now." She took a step forward. "But what's this? Looks like I'm not the only one who's changed." She reached for Barret's right hand; he involuntarily flinched. "Given up the gun then, have we?"

"I'm done with it," Barret told her, more harshly than he had intended.

Madam M waved her fan nonchalantly, musing. "Does it feel?"

"It does," he told her. "Top of the line WRO." Shalua Rui. He'd heard too late the name of the woman who originally grafted on the gun; the same who had designed the appendage he wore now. Dead before he could get a chance to thank her.

Rest in peace, SHalua, and may the Goddess be with you.

"Well, then, how about… a massage?" Madam M offered. "From me, of course."

Barret paused. "What kind of prices are we talking about?"

"Just this once… it's on the house." She briefly hid her face behind her fan. "Consider me… intrigued."

Shrugging, Barret followed her inside. The opulent interior belied the darb outside, a throwback to the noise and bling Wall Market once had been. Halls branched off to tother rooms from which he could vaguely hear female voices – "A lot were former Honeybee girls," Madam M explained, and Barret wondered what kind of "services" they provided - worrying what he'd gotten himself into, barley relacing when Madam M took him to the back and had him lie down on the table.

"Try to let go," she purred, taking his hand in hers.

She worked his fingers first, sending tingling shocks of sensation through them; sensors derived from Shinda technology connecting to his own nerves. The delivery with which she touched surprised him; it had been so long since he'd experienced anything like it.

Myrna used to touch me like that…

Her expert touch traveled through his body, heightening in intensity as she traveled over his fist, inward to his palm. Pleasure intensified, until she reached to the very center of his palm, squeezing an exquisitely sensitive spot…

He felt! Oh goddess, he could feel!

Barret hadn't even realized he'd begun sobbing, blubbering like an infant. Distantly, he wondered what she must think of him. But he couldn't help it as the dam burst and he realized it was true, he was whole once again…

Minutes passed before he was aware she'd let go, once the sobs dried up and he saw her staring out of him in un characteristic shock. "I didn't think… no one's ever reacted like that before."

There was only one thing to do. He reached for her hand this time; unlike him, she didn't pull away. "Thank you," he told her with absolute sincerity.

She nodded, swallowed, still a little wide-eyed. They just stared at each other until Barret, succumbing to a whim unknown, found himself pulling her downwards, closer.

She let him, and as he slid his arms around her back, she reached down to meet his lips.

"Cloud? Tifa?"

The two of them looked up from where they had been finishing the evening chores, another moment of the pleasant domestic bliss they'd cocooned into. Framed in the doorway to the kitchen was Denzel, with Marlene hovering right behind him.

Marlene, now ten, was slowly settling into her new adolescent style. Her ribbon pulled back a small ponytail at the crown of her head; the rest of her sleek, straight hair dropped over her shoulders. After working her way through the rainbow, she'd finally settled on purple as he favorite color, and it now liberally garnished her wardrobe. Today, she wore a simple pale violet dress with her favorite pair of white sneakers – ones she rotated with a couple pairs of boots, depending on her mood.

Denzel, too, was settling into a change of style; his hair had darkened a shade or so, and hung sloppily over his eyes. The collared overcoat that had become practically his signature covered a frame that was slowly filling out to catch up – though he was still as skinny as a bean, even as he'd become a bottomless put for Tifa's cooking.

He stood there bashfully, hanging his head. "I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something."

Cloud and Tifa looked at each other; Cloud stepped away from the sink. Tifa turned, absent-mindedly toweling a plate dry. "Well, sure, Denzel, anytime," Cloud began. "What's on your mind?"

Surprisingly, Denzel looked back at his sister; she only smiled. "Go on," she encouraged. "Tell them what we talked about."

Denzel darted his eyes nervously from Cloud to Tifa and back again, before finally clearing his throat to begin. "So, uh, Marlene and I were talking about how you can, uh, pick your own name," he said. "I was thinking, uh, since we've been like a family for a while – "

"We ARE a family," Marlene interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder.

" – so, uh, maybe I was sorta thinking, I could pick a new name? You know, to go with the family?" His eyes pleaded nervously.

Cloud and Tifa exchanged a surprised glance; her look told him she wanted him to speak for them both. "Well, we'd certainly be okay with that, Denzel," he told the boy. "Which one of our names were you thinking?"

"Well, uh, Marlene said sometimes people just kinda, you know, mash them together." Denzel shook out. "Strifehart. That sounds pretty cool, doesn't it?"

CRASH. Tifa barely noticed the plate she'd dropped in her shock; shattered fragments now sprayed across the floor. Her bond to Denzel had always been more tenuous than Cloud's, but Denzel's gesture gaze her a reassurance she didn't even know she'd been craving.

He wants my name, too…

Denzel seemed to sense Tifa's unease, even worse than his own. Walking over, shattered pottery crunching under his boots, he tentatively reached out his arms. Tifa nodded, pulling him into a motherly embrace.

She wouldn't have many more chances like this, she realize. Denzel could still lay his head against her shoulder, but he was only as much short er than her as she was shorter than Cloud – that is to say, not much at all.

She let him go with the greatest reluctance, letting him turn to Cloud. The man and the boy looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to do; Cloud broke the impasse by finally offering his hand to shake on it.

Cloud wondered if they'd had to fill out any paperwork. He'd finally gotten around to asking Reeve if anything like marriage licenses had been instituted (they hadn't); he suspected Reeve had better things to do that worry about little pieces of paper.

In any case, for Denzel, this was something no less monumental than the vows he and Tifa had made to each other; they knew they were married, and that was all that mattered. For Denzel, this would be the same – a promise to be part of the family. And Cloud of all people certainly know how much a promise could mean.

"Well then, Denzel Strifehart," Cloud finally told him, "I guess were should say, welcome home."

The night was growing late. Denzel had been trying his name on his tongue all day, testing it out as if somehow someone would take it away from him. The change felt surreal, but like so many other things, it would feel completely natural soon enough.

He was passing by the living area on the way back to his new room, when a sudden urge drove him to take a peek inside.

Cloud and Tifa had fallen asleep cuddling on the couch, wrapped up in each others' arms. Cloud's head was thrown back, his mouth open, snoring softly. Tifa lay with her ear to his chest; a trickle of drool leaked out of the side of her mouth.

They really WERE his parents now, Denzel realized. Remembering his real parents was getting harder; he'd been too young when he lost them to hold onto many recollections. Most of his parental memories were of Cloud and Tifa.

For maybe the first time, he really allowed himself to think of what life might have been like had they lived. Had Sephiroth and meteor never happened; had the plate not fallen. He'd be just another spoiled kid on the plate, probably thinking of a career with Shinra himself.

But he would never have met Cloud and Tifa, or Marlene, or Mina, or any of the other friends and neighbors who were now a part of his life.

Life was grimier, dirtier this way – but not without its rewards. And as he quietly stood there, spying on the two he knew were so much in love, he began to realize – he might have a future like that too.

The name he'd taken today was just the start of that.

Gently, he closed the doors, leaving the couple to their peaceful sleep, as he headed for his own.

Are sins ever forgiven?

I'm going to try.

Vincent was thinking Cloud had been the one who was right after all.

Every trip he made to Seventh Heaven, he wondered if he'd made a mistake. Seeing Cloud, so happy with his family, it was as if that ship had passed him by.

Cloud and Tifa, finally married. It had been a surprise – but then again, maybe it hadn't. Maybe it was because they'd been so completely together, so joined by love, that no one had really considered them anything but. Yet they'd gone ahead and tightened that bond, a few words that promised themselves to each other for life.

(Yuffie had been the only one really annoyed that they hadn't been invited. Vincent suspected she was just upset she'd missed a reason for a party, and the mischief to go along with it.)

The children, too. How close he had come to that experience – if, indeed, as he believed, Sephiroth had been his son – something he could never know. Lucrecia no longer spoke when he visited the cave; perhaps she'd finally been given the mercy of the Lifestream.

While he had the torture of life.

Marlene, in particular, he watched. He'd recognized her for what she was – some odd side effect of his mutated abilities and all the mysteries they entailed. Frankly, he was surprised Cloud and Tifa couldn't see it clear as day – all he could see now, whenever he looked at her, were the signs of Aerith.

And if his son had taken her mother, he owed this girl a debt.

It was as if she could sense his thoughts… Marlene turned her head and flounced over to him, the familiar pink ribbon flapping. Ifrit, the girl was a Cetra, maybe she could. Cetra powers were their own. Gentle brushes on mind, on emotion; healing with a touch. The legacy of the lost race.

"Hi," she said, plopping into the chair beside him. "Glad you aren't hiding your face anymore."

Vincent shrugged. "It's been a while," he said. Two – no nearly three – years since Deepground. "It was time."

"But you still have this claw." She took the gold gauntlet in her two hands. "Why?"

Vincent didn't have an answer. It had been something he'd added when he'd awoken with a scream, seeing his hands changing into the form of a beast. A way of hiding, he supposed, what he had become.

He didn't have those beasts inside anymore. The hand was nothing but human. So, then, why, as she was asking, did he not take it off?

I don't know.

Maybe I still don't feel very human.

"It's a… remembrance," he told her.

"Cloud and Tifa don't wear their ribbons anymore," she told him.

"You still wear yours, "Vincent observed.

She cocked her head to the side, an eerie, knowing look; he could see the beginning glimpses of a sparkle in her eyes. "I have my reasons," she half-murmured; and Vincent knew, she knows that I know.

What should I do about that?

Marlene looked down at it. "My papa gave up on the gun," she told him. "Maybe it's time for you to give this up as well – "

And Vincent stilled, silently letting her small fingers work at the clasps, the screws. Deftly, as if she knew exactly what she was going for. The claw split open, and scooping it in both hands, she slowly slid it off, placing it on the table next to them with a quiet clink. For a moment, man and girl just stared at once another, knowing something so simple, yet so momentous had passed.

"There, that wasn't so bad," she told him.

Vincent flexed his had experimentally. He felt half-naked without it – but as Marlene took his hand, and he felt a gentle tingle, he decided she was right, it was time.

Only one thing he could say.

"Thank you."

He always woke her up with kisses.

Spooning her from behind, he'd wake up enfolding her in his embrace. He'd kiss up and down her shoulders, her neck, her spine.

He was a student of her cues, attuned to whether or not she might want to wake up making love, or if he might be able to persuade her after a cup of coffee.

Today, though…

He was craving her. His morning erection throbbed; he wanted to put it inside her so badly. He found himself kissing her hungrily, greedily, practically devouring her skin; his hand cupped the fullness of her breasts, squeezing, kneading the skin, fingering her nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. She fidgeted in his grasp, but made no move to stop him.

He needed… maybe not even sex. SOMEthing. But the urge drove him on as he took his cock in hand and slid it frantically over her slit, finally rubbing the tip against her sensitive nub, meeting less resistance as her pussy moistened. He increasingly ragged breathing and her vigorous squirming gave him more of the answer he wanted.

She arched against him, angling herself for his entry, and he knew she was ready to be FUCKED. Just thinking that sent him halfway to exploding.

Tifa was going to be fucked. Not that he was going to fuck her, she was going to be fucked and fucked by him and he grabbed her waist to secure her as he drove in to oblige her.

She squealed and squirmed as he thrust into her slippery cunt; his hand reached around her front to play with her, earning a hard gasp. After a moment, she slapped his hand away to touch herself; he felt her passage convulsing in her want and need to orgasm.

"Come for me," he begged with ragged voice. "Squeeze it out of me." She nodded, eyes closed, focused, straining towards their common goal.

Suddenly she arched against him, strong muscles clamping down on his cock, and he groaned as he drove into near-virgin tightness. He exploded in her a moment later, emptying his load with frank relief, sliding out as they separated.

He leaned over then, turning his head so he could kiss her sweetly, gratefully, on lips as soft as her pussy.

"Good morning," she told him, smiling.

"Wish I could wakes up like this every day," he answered, grinning.

He settled back down, letting her snuggle tight against his body. Minutes passed, and she hadn't moved. "Aren't you going to get up?" he asked, puzzled.

"In a minute," she replied dreamily "I like feeling what you left inside me for a little longer."

His spent cock hardened back immediately at the thought. He grabbed her tight, grinding himself against her, making his intent clear. "In that case," he growled, "Get on your hands and knees. I'm going to fill you up with it."

"How does the new name feel?"" Cloud asked.

They'd taken oa ride on Fenrir out of the city, out to Zack's gave. It had become their spot to talk as father and son; it was as if Zack was there to give his blessing. Aerith, too, in a way – every time they went, the flowers were seen more in profusion, rivaling the garden that was thriving on the roof of their home.

Denzel shrugged. "It feels pretty good," he said, fidgeting with the buttons of his coat. "I mean… it's a new life, isn't it?"

"Do you regret it?" Cloud burst out. "I mean… losing your parents."

Denzel reflected. "I feel sad, I guess," he started. "But regret… well… I kinda feel like there's nothing to be done about it now. Might as well move on. Besides," he said, turning to Cloud, "you're my hero now."

Cloud felt himself blushing. "I wonder… if I've been able to be a father to you, too."

Denzel didn't answer right away; Cloud continued on. "I know Tifa and I were sort of dumped on you," he said. "You were pretty much too sick for us to ask your opinion. We were just so worried about you back then."

"It wasn't what was important hen," Denzel assured Cloud. "But by the time I was well… I was already thinking of Seventh Heaven as home."

Why was he asking these things? Denzel wondered. Denzel took a good, long look at the man who he'd been idolizing for the past few years. Yes, he was the man who had defeated Sephiroth - three times! – but he was also a provider. A protector. A man who loved his family, and the woman he'd made his wife.

At the end of the day, that's what Cloud was – a man.

"I've been thinking of your future, you know." Cloud cleared his throat. "Tifa and I both."

"The WRO, right?" Denzel replied. "I get it now. I think… I'd like that."

"Tifa and I never got a chance to go to school, you know. That's why we want you and Marlene to have what we hadn't." Cloud suddenly smirked. "We think of other things too. Like Mina. Is she your girlfriend now?"

Denzel blushed profusely. "She's not my girlfriend – " and Cloud didn't have the heart to tease the poor boy more.

Instead, the two sat together, looking over the cliff towards home. The journey he had once fumbled through – but now he knew how the journey ended.

The destination that had been there all along.

Denzel was a part of that, too.

From the beyond, Aerith watched.

She could reach Marlene easily now; Marlene was closer to being able to touch back in return. It was easiest at the church; but Marlene didn't visit there as often as Aerith would have liked. Instead, the flower garden Marlene had created on the roof of Seventh Heaven became her avenue; she'd coax the bond closer, closer still.

It was only a matter of time – and that was one thing she had no shortage of.

The sky takes away the people I love. She'd once thought that; but now her daughter lived fearlessly under open blue. FREE.

Flowers reach for the sky, another sentiment remembered.

I told Zack once, I wanted to see the sky.

Marlene, keep reaching.

But there were others that concerned her; ones that were now her responsibility. She could feel them. The advent children. The same strings of tainted Lifestream that had led her to them, let her lead Denzel to the church for Cloud to find, were still there, though now clean – trails straight to the hearts of those who had once suffered the disease.

The survivors of Geostigma, not all, but the children she could reach – and they WERE nearly all children – maybe because children's hearts were more open; even as there were adults she wished she could more easily touch.

Rufus Shinra, a particularly hard nut to crack.

It would take time to reach the children… but the beginnings were there. She was there to help connect them… to help them find the Promised Land.

She' d been putting this off for too long.

She'd gathered the flowers; he had shown her where. He'd told her the power they were supposed to have – that you could reach across with them. What his sister had told him, and she had no reason to doubt.

He'd told her what they meant.

Reunion.

Mina bent over Shun's grave, placing the yellow flowers sweetly on the rain-cleansed ground. She hugged the moogle close, her own remembrance.

"It's getting greener," Denzel told her softly.

He was right. She'd regretted so much having to bury him here, a mako-drenched patch at the outskirts of what used to be Midgar; but it was being reclaimed. Now within Edge's boundaries, Geostigma's survivors had clamored to give this place the proper respect it deserved – fortunately, at the same time that the ground began to heal.

She hadn't just plucked the flowers; she'd uprooted them, intending to replant them here. Marlene, after all, had moved them to her own garden with no problem; and she'd told Mina she'd be able to do the same.

("Just plant them, Mina," Marlene had assured her. "Your touch will make them grow.")

It was part of the change… she still didn't understand. The one she'd first become aware of when she'd looked in the mirror in shock one morning, realizing that her hazel eyes had begun to softly glow. A change that would happen to Denzel soon enough, she knew… but when? Was it age, was it experience? What had happened? Right before, she'd been snuggling her moogle, thinking of her long-lost brother. That was all she remembered. And that's when Mina knew she had to come today.

Digging a small hole, she eased the roots into the new earth; she covered the hole; carefully easing the flowers upright. She stepped back, inspecting her work. It looked good, felt good. She could almost swear the flowers were saying they were pleased.

She could feel Denzel behind her, his calm, quiet presence. He really had no idea what that meant to her – just him being there. Sometimes, it seemed like both forever and never that she'd known him. A kid from the plate, where she'd been from the slums – what were the chances they would become what they were today?

He stepped a bit closer; she found herself extremely conscious of his presence. A new sensation: one she wasn't sure how to address. Despite being taller than her, he was still only twelve to her thirteen years.

"I miss him so much," Mina blurted out; she suddenly found herself sobbing. "He never even had a chance to live – "

There were no words. No words could be said. But suddenly, skinny arms wrapped around her, pressing her to him, and she cried out her pain into the safety of his embrace.

"Mina," he whispered, "you're never alone. You'll always have me."

"Thank you," she whispered, raising her head.

And looking into Denzel's eyes, she saw the softest beginnings of glow.

Edge was getting greener.

As the Planet slowly healed, things were able to grow once again, even in a place as Mako-soaked as Midgar. It meant more space opening up. More parks to play in.

More opportunities for them to go out and be a family.

Tifa sat on the bench at the newest playground, watching as Cloud goofed off with Marlene and Denzel. He still had that childlike nature – it was so nice to see it come out and play. The sweet, loving temperament she remembered from when they were the smallest children.

She'd once asked herself, what was a hero when she'd made herself her own. Now she understood – the capacity for love. And for that, Cloud would always be her hero. Even when there were no monsters to fight, no Sephiroths to defeat, no Meteors threatening the Planet – he always would be. Marriage only established what was there all along.

It was what made him such a wonderful father to their adopted children. She wanted to give him a chance to have his own. To see his face when she placed a baby in his arms, a child that was part of him as well. To feel that child growing inside her, the product of their love.

She was dreamily indulging that fantasy, so intent that she didn't even notice Marlene come up.

"Would it be a boy or a girl?" Marlene suddenly intruded on her thoughts.

"What?" Tifa flinched, wondering if she had inadvertently spoken out loud.

"You know… if Cloud put a baby inside you like you told us… would it be a boy or a girl?"

Don't they teach these kids anything in school? Then again, since the neighborhood had only barely begun assembling the rudiments of a school system, she supposed she couldn't really complain.

"Denzel said he wanted a girl, because he likes having a sister." Marlene smirked. "I told him that you guys should have a girl because then you'd have another kid like me."

Oh, Gaia, here we go… "Well, it's not that simple," Tifa told her. "It kind of depends on the man."

"So, we should talk to Cloud then?" Marlene chirped.

Oh no… let's not freak him out. "It's not that either," Tifa told her daughter. "But in any case… not right now. We love you guys. That's plenty."

Marlene only nodded thumb to her lips in concentration.

"Do you think Cloud would make a good father?" Tifa asked Marlene.

"He already IS," Marlene replied, in that tone that children use to explain the obvious to adults.

"You think so?" Tifa replied. Goddess, I certainly wanted to believe that… but reassurance from the kids themselves was more than she'd even hoped for. She glanced towards Cloud and Denzel, now playing some kind of ball game. As if they'd been born to it.

And she began to wonder what if…

Tifa was still thinking about it the next morning.

She took her special materia out of the drawer where it lived. It was time to activate it again. Bouncing it in her hand, she let her mind drift.

A twinge of regret as she remembered the day she and Jessie had bough t it together. A young village girl, still unacquainted with the act of making love – or how it could be so different with someone you did love. Jessie laughing as she told Tifa she'd understand the difference in time.

Jessie had been right.

She lifted it to the window, staring through its translucent pink. The glowing bulb that had been her constant companion all these years. The one that made sure she didn't have a child with the wrong guy – until she found the right one, the one whose arms she would be in tonight. The orb that let her make love with Cloud with fierce passion, free of consequences, for two people who'd endured enough unexpected circumstances for ten lifetimes.

Would it be a boy or a girl? It would mean two different stories. Two different lives for Cloud. A girl he'd see as something to protect; a boy in which hed see himself. In any case, it meant for him the chance to create life, not just protect, not just take.

To be another kind of hero.

She had a wonderful man. So full of love it could break him apart. He'd be frightened, she knew; he'd be terrified to make the choice. But at the same time, she knew he'd be so happy, once it became real.

She put the materia back into the drawer, unused.

Author's Note: Whew! I hope there were some surprises for you here. Each chapter I put out is just… its own beast. Takes me about a day (and by that I mean close to 24 hours) to do each one.

BTW, everything in this chapter is important. I am so excited to see plotlines I've been envisioning for a while finally seeing the light of day! Got quite a bit more of story to go, but it's all going somewhere!