Chapter 83, εуλ0014

He'd known this meeting would be bittersweet.

The church's rafters rose high above him, not the structure in the tangible world, but a simulacrum, created by their mutual agreement. It was the only place that made sense. A place that was important to them both.

She stood across from him, all the beauty he had expected to see. Lustrous brown hair, this time cascading down her back. A breezy accompaniment to her gossamer white dress, swirling in the nonexistent breeze. Just as he had once hoped to see her in life.

"You made it," he told her.

She nodded, seriously. "I'm getting better at it. I used to need to be pulled in, but now I can sometimes get to the Lifestream on my own." She looked around her. "I'm not at the church right now, but it's usually easier from there. The flowers show me the way."

"They help." He found his anchor more easily there himself.

He didn't know how to start, running fingers through his spiky hair. "I don't know how to do this, really," he told her. "I didn't expect to have to do this from other sides of the Lifestream."

"But it's better than nothing, right?"

That was so like her, always able to look on the positive side of everything. Once, he had been able to do that too, but time and circumstance took that out of him.

He could feel tears coming; at first he wanted to hold them back, but then he wondered why, and found them flowing freely. If this wasn't a reason to cry, what was?

And she was there, right in front of him, no sense of movement. "It's okay," she soothed. She didn't tell him to stop. "I'm here. If we can meet once like this, we can do it again."

He'd known pain when he fought and relished it. Thought that pain had meaning. He was only half right, as he turned out. Pain did have meaning, but it was this other kind, this pained sweetness of love with barriers.

Pain was the reminder one was alive. And now that he wasn't alive anymore… if he was something more, then wasn't the pain all that brighter too?

"I wish it wasn't like this," he told her. "Only able to meet you half-here, neither of us able to cross the divide."

"I'll be with you someday," she reminded him.

"Don't rush on my account," he told her. "Your mother died too early. I don't want the same to happen to you. I want you to live long, find love."

She smiled a mysterious smile. "Well, I have an idea how that last part is going to work out, but it'll be a while still yet." An irrational pang of jealousy hit him. He wanted her to be happy, yes, but he didn't want to share his girl.

"Maybe we should keep it simple," she suggested. "Let's pretend. Let's just start from the beginning."

Pretending was better than denying, he thought. Did that even make sense? "Okay, we'll start there," he told her. He stuck out an insubstantial hand. "Hi, I'm Zack," he told her. "I'm your father…"

"You've got to meet her!" Marlene explained.

It was time. Barret was bringing his new girlfriend, and it had Tifa flustered like crazy with eagerness.

"What's the big deal?" Cloud had asked.

"It IS a big deal," Tifa insisted. "Barret has been alone too long. I've been waiting for this for a long time, I'm so happy for him…" She gaily chattered on.

Cloud lifted a hand to his head. Personally, he was having trouble wrapping his mind around the concept. Yes, he knew Barret had once been married, but Barret had now been alone for so long, a brash, lone warrior, that the thought of a woman in his life… Well, it was difficult to picture. What kind of woman would, well, frankly, put up with his shit?

He guessed he would soon find out.

Even Marlene had not met this mysterious woman – only talked to her on the phone. "Her name starts with M, like mine!" she'd explained happily. "And she's loud and funny and she seems to really like my Papa…"

None of which prepared Cloud or Tifa for a surprise when the day finally came.

Barret strode up to Seventh Heaven, his new prosthetic swinging back and forth. It's like having a new hand again, he'd told Tifa. Almost enough to forget… His left arm was around a small, slender, dark-haired woman who seemed to be half his size. Cloud was mulling over that strange combination and wondering slyly how is it when they… before recognition suddenly kicked in as they got closer.

Tifa had joined Cloud at his right; Marlene, on her other side, ran up to greet the arriving couple. Tifa stiffened next to him, and he realized she'd seen the same he had.

"Madam M?!" he explained in disbelief.

It certainly was her. The hair was out, but still garnished with a small fan at the top, a twin to the one she perpetually carried. She waved it in front of her face now, a gesture Cloud almost thought was… shy? as incongruous as that seemed. The dress she wore was still reminiscent of a kimono, but accompanied by a soft pair of black boots, instead of the platformed sandals she'd had the last time she and Cloud met.

The last time… Cloud felt himself blushing. A little bit of information he'd never shared with Tifa. Bad enough Tifa had seen him in a dress – she didn't need to know everything Cloud'd had to do to get it.

To his surprise, Madam M blushed faintly as well. "Hello, Cloud Strife," she greeted him. "It's been a while." She gazed over at Tifa. "I would hope you've cheated death once and for all, then."

Manners were restored. "It's good to see you, uh, uh…" He thought. "Am I really supposed to call you Madam M? Or just M?"

To his surprise, she blushed as well. "It really is M – Em," she told him. "It's short for Emlyse."

Fortunately, Tifa stepped in to save him. "Welcome to Seventh Heaven," she greeted M warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you again. I trust this guy is not giving you too much trouble?"

M gazed up at Barret; Cloud noted real affection in her eyes. Who would have thought…? "No more than the average man," she half-purred. To his credit, Barret laughed, leaning down to kiss her affectionately.

Marlene coughed. "I'm still here," she insisted. "No more kissy stuff! Let's go inside! So I can show you everything! Denzel will be back home soon, he's my brother, though I only got him a few years ago…" She tugged eagerly at M's hand, pulling her and Barret in tandem forward.

Cloud and Tifa were left together outside, semi-speechless.

"Well," Cloud began.

"Well," Tifa replied.

"I never saw that one coming," Cloud admitted.

"I didn't… either," Tifa said faintly. "But I guess… it does make a weird sort of sense, don't you think?"

Cloud couldn't help but agree. Tifa, as always, was right.

Upstairs, Madam M gazed around Marlene's room, as Barret's daughter proudly displayed her art, her brother's photos, the knickknacks that littered the room. She hadn't expected to get involved with a man with a child – in fact, she'd always sworn she wouldn't. But here she was, and at least Marlene wasn't a little girl – closer to a woman than probably Barret wanted to admit.

Besides, no one was asking M to be a full-time mother. Marlene had Tifa for that, and from what she could see, Tifa was born for the role. And Cloud… the angry fighter she'd first met was mostly gone, replaced by a matured, caring man who was devoted to his wife and his family.

Which wasn't a bad thing, all things considered. She'd perhaps had her fill of troublesome men. Chocobo Sam, she recalled with exasperation. Maybe it was time for someone more stable. Reliable.

And as he felt Barret's comforting bulk sidle up next to her, watching his daughter with obvious pride, she wondered if perhaps she had found that.

It was inevitable.

Cloud had been resisting it for a long time, but he'd finally made the decision to join the WRO. He was… just plain tired of being on the road all the time, away from his family. He still loved the lure, the adventure, the excitement, tearing through the middle of nowhere on Fenrir… but now, he found himself wishing he could take Tifa with him.

I still owe her a trip to the ocean.

He'd thought Tifa would be thoroughly excited by the news – for years she had been the one trying to get him to take days off, stay home – but to his surprise it was her who expressed regret. "Are you sure about this, Cloud?" she'd asked him. "That you won't miss it?"

"I'm sure about our family. I'm sure about you," was his reply.

Strife Delivery Service was practically autonomous now; he had couriers to do the work, even managers to direct them. Truthfully, he hadn't been an ordinary delivery boy in some time, removed from the day-to-day operations, except for the occasional trip he kept for his own – particularly the ones he did for free.

He still dropped off the bouquet for Elmyra every year. And every year he wondered if he should bring Tifa; every year she sent him off with a kiss. ("This is for you to do, Cloud," she'd assure him. "But I'll be right there by your side in spirit.")

It wouldn't be so bad. Reeve gave him free rein to create his own position – "There's so much to be done, you can pick whatever you want, at least it'll be that much more weight off my back," Reeve had laughed – so he could just as easily find himself traveling as often as he liked. The WRO itself was an hour away by train, which meant bare minutes at Fenrir's top speed. He could be back every night for dinner.

And he wanted to, the way the kids were growing. Denzel had shot up; Marlene, too, was outgrowing dresses at least every week. They weren't adults… but it was a stretch to keep calling them children. He and Tifa… and somehow managed the raising of them, and he realized how fiercely he would miss that when it was gone.

But that wasn't today's problem. Today, he was struggling with the mechanics of a button-down shirt, one he felt somehow obligated to wear for the first day of work.

He looked in the mirror. The buttons were misaligned. "I hate these things," he mumbled. Hated dressing up. Too long wearing the uniforms of others.

Tifa sat on the bed, legs curled under her, enjoying the sight of her man getting dressed, with some passing sort of style. He'd even managed to pick out clothes without help; he actually didn't do half bad. Dark grey denim pants, a leather blazer, making him look somewhat like a slummed-out Turk… which, Tifa reflected, may very well have been the look he was looking for.

The white shirt… he always claimed he hated them, but Tifa had her doubts. She suspected he kept them not for these sorts of business meetings, but because she'd once casually mentioned she liked it on him half-undone.

(Not to mention he REALLY liked it half-undone – on her.)

But above and beyond that, Cloud's tussle with the offending shirt was something more. A sign of stress he was feeling. Tifa knew he was more than capable of handling whatever Reeve needed him to do – it was just a matter of learning – but at the same time, it was something new. A taking in; a letting go.

She herself had experienced much of that feeling since opening Third Eye, the upscale nightclub she'd been planning. With three establishments, she only made guest appearances at the others, primarily to approve menus, put her own stamp on them, train others to do things she had once only done with her bare hands. She was surprised at how successful the new place had been as money became less scarce; she was almost bewildered by the ingredients she could get now, and the prices people were paying for them.

Who would have thought her humble pizzas would one day be served with kale pesto and Meyer lemons?

Cloud kept pacing, grumbling, betraying his anxiety, when Tifa suddenly had an inspiration. Reaching out as he walked by her again, she grabbed him –

- and he found himself tumbling half onto the bed, and half onto her, while her strong arms yanked him the rest of the way. His shirt still hung half-undone, and she reached down to undo his pants as well, counting that his body would respond before his mind found a reason to object.

Grabbing his adorable little ass, she wrapped her legs around his and pulled him INTO her, and Cloud gasped in surprise; but that didn't stop him from getting the hint, throwing his arms around her, driving hard. He only lasted a bare minute or two before he collapsed onto her, head hanging on her shoulder, tension rolling off him so completely she could practically see it draining onto the floor.

He rolled onto his back, eyes wide but a silly, goofy grin so out of character to him that she didn't even think he was aware of it, plastering his face. She leaned over to give him a quick kiss, then turned to sit up.

He grabbed her hand. "Wait… what about you?" he asked, a hint of guilt in his voice.

"That one was for you," she murmured in a low voice. "You can return the favor later."

She didn't need words to read his response. I will. With pleasure.

Elmyra always enjoyed her chances to go to Edge, to visit Cloud and Tifa, Denzel, and of course… Marlene. It might be selfish, but she cherished in particular the times she got to spend with Marlene alone. The secret of their bond stayed with her still; it wasn't time. Still, it was something she would have to bring up to Marlene eventually.

After all, the girl was her granddaughter.

She figured today was the best time as any. Cloud and Tifa had gone with Denzel to the WRO, something about paperwork for his schooling, now that some real classes were beginning. Marlene, of course, would get her education as well; but so far, she, like Tifa, had been quite insistent about staying close to home.

Which suited Elmyra just fine.

Marlene had asked to go to the park today; Elmyra had assumed one of the many new spaces that had cropped up in Edge. "No," Marlene insisted. "The one with the moogle slide."

"You remember that place?" Elmyra asked her, surprised. Aerith had hustled her through, that awful night that the plate fell and changed everyone's lives… but Marlene had only been four at the time.

"I do," Marlene hung her head shyly. "I… remember everything about that night."

Elmyra had no choice but to agree.

They walked the old road to Sector Six; Elmyra blanched slightly as they passed the turnoff to Sector Five. For a moment, she thought of asking Marlene if she wanted to visit – the old neighborhood, the old house – but in the end she decided it would be far too painful for herself. She'd donated her old house to the Leaf House, the people she wanted most to have it; the children would make better use of it than anyone else could. She could visit back anytime – but somehow, even six years later, she couldn't bring herself to visit the field of flowers her daughter had made bloom.

She hoped the flowers were still there.

Someday…

Marlene laughed as they arrived, running to the moogle slide and clambering up, and for a flash Elmyra was painfully reminded of Aerith, her energy, her manner. Aerith, age eleven. A girl heading towards becoming a woman, just as Marlene was now, but still with the innocent joy of youth.

Aerith's joy had been crushed too soon. She hoped fervently that Marlene would not experience the same. There's no Shinra, she reminded herself. No Turks to take her away.

No Sephiroth to take her life.

Aerith, were you at least reunited with Zack in the end?

Eventually, Marlene tired, flopping on the bench next to Elmyra. She swung her legs with childlike energy; Elmyra leaned back and relaxed, enjoying her company.

"Grandmother, I think we should talk," Marlene suddenly burst out.

Elmyra looked at her in surprise. What did Marlene have in mind? "You're right," she told her. "I have a few things I should be telling you…"

Marlene took Elmyra's hand in hers, gazing at the woman very seriously. "I already know," she said softly.

"How?" Elmyra asked – genuinely shocked – or possibly not.

"My mother," Marlene carefully began. "I've been… talking to her. Over the Lifestream. More and more. It's getting easier for me. I've been doing it for a while now, and it's getting better."

Elmyra could feel the tears welling up. "You can…" Of course she can. Why didn't I see this coming? The same as Aerith had once been able to pass on her own husband's message from the beyond… "How is she? I mean, what did she say? Is she with…" Elmyra couldn't bear to finish, leaving the sentence hanging.

"She is," Marlene softly assured her. "I met him, too, you know. They miss you, of course, but they wanted me to let you know not to worry. They're happy, and they'll see you when it's time."

Elmyra was openly sobbing now; when had that begun? "I wish I could talk to them," she blubbered.

Marlene gently stroked Elmyra's hand. "They can't reach you directly. They can't get through to everyone, and Father can barely just reach me. But you can always ask me," she assured the older woman.

Elmyra took Marlene into a warm embrace. "So you met your father, then?" she choked out. "He died before…" She couldn't finish.

"It's okay," Marlene replied. "It's not… I don't really experience it as a loss. It's just… a transition." She cocked her head, a reflection of Aerith.

"We… Aerith didn't…" Elmyra whispered. "We owe you an apology. We never could have predicted what happened to Corel…"

"But it's okay," Marlene said. "I found my Papa, and then I found Tifa, and Cloud, and Denzel… Grandmother, don't be sad. I have a happy family. More than one, in fact."

And as Elmyra buried her nose in Marlene's hair, the sobs began to fade. She knew Marlene was right. Tragedy had struck, yes, but they had survived, and thrived. Marlene had a safe home, a loving family, and most importantly – a future.

Elmyra couldn't have asked the Goddess for anything more than that.

Cloud knew perfectly well he had what other men wanted.

He had to put up with them every night; but now, he knew for certain she was his, and it made it a little easier. Still, he couldn't help but want a little reinforcement.

The children were away for the afternoon; they were sneaking valuable time when they could be free of inhibitions, free to just be with each other. A visit to familiar moves, and he had her crying and whimpering underneath him, begging for more, just the way he liked it. Loved the ego boost of pleasing her; the sense of male prowess, of being a true mman for his woman. She was HIS, dammit – he was the one who saw her like this, in moments most intense and vulnerable.

"Cloud…" Her voice drawled out, long and pained with need. For him.

"Do you like saying my name?" he suddenly asked her, lifting his head from between her legs, where he'd been licking her upwards to another intense climax.

She lifted her head, breathing heavily. "What do you think?" she asked him.

"What do I think?" he asked. He could feel a mischievous smile crossing his face. "I think I want you to scream it – "

-and with that promise, he moved up above, plunging into her sharp and deep, earning a guttural squeal.

"Say it," he growled,

"Cloud!" she obliged.

"Louder," he commanded, overtaken with lust. "I want the whole neighborhood to hear. I want them to know I'm the only one who fucks you like this."

"CLOUD!" she screamed sharply, throwing her head back, and oh that was so sexy as she arched against him, eager for his cock, further, deeper. "Cloud! You're the only one!"

"More!" he urged.

"YOU'RE THE BEST I EVER HAD!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, and he finally relented as she screamed wordlessly, coming hard and fast and sloppy, his own body convulsing involuntarily as he exploded within her.

Breathing deep, they stared wildly into each other's eyes, overwhelmed with the sheer intensity of their shared orgasm. Cloud let minutes pass in the pleasure of the comedown, finally reluctantly melting away.

He slid slowly away… but did not let her out of his arms, wordlessly bringing them together to a lethargic mellow, post-orgasmic bliss, sharing it with his beautiful, wonderful wife.

She sighed, nestling into his arms in bliss. "You're always mine," he told her.

"Yours," she agreed.

He looked down to smile at her wickedly. "And if you forget it… I'll just have to remind you again."

Her naughty expression in return was all he needed.

The scent of the flowers was overwhelming to Nanaki's nose. Marlene's rooftop garden was lush, growing profusely. Nothing compared to the field Aerith had cultivated, but then again, Marlene was working with limited space.

She was tending to them now, uncharacteristically clad in yellow shorts and t-shirt, humming softly as she righted a stem here, patted roots back into place there. Nanaki had never seen Aerith cultivating her garden; but he could picture it, exactly the same as Marlene was doing now.

The similarity was striking.

Scent would have given it away, even if mannerisms did not; the scent of one connected to the Planet. It had rolled in waves off Aerith, even before she had touched him, sent knowledge to him with that simple touch.

It was the sort of thing impossible to describe in human terms. How people must be deprived, unable to visit that scent of the breeze, the warmth of the earth, that intangible sense of life that rolled off Marlene in waves. That had made it obvious to him who she was from the very first time they met.

The rest… was just deduction.

"Cloud helps me with them," she told Nanaki. "He's keeping his promise."

"If he promised, he will," Nanaki agreed. "But why are you so adamant he has to help?"

Marlene thought long and hard. How would she explain this? Something she didn't entirely yet understand herself. "I bring him up here to heal," she finally said.

Healing. That was a new thing Marlene was discovering; her mother had showed her the nuances as best she could, during their increasingly frequent visits over the Lifestream, but some of it, she'd just had to figure out on her own. A scratch that disappeared at her touch; a headache that went away. A more subtle shift in emotions, a tilting of mood, defusing anger, tension, sadness – and she wondered how much of that she should really use.

She'd thought at first to use it to help her loved ones; what could be better than never feeling bad? But Aerith had told her, those are part of living too. And now, every time she saw Tifa sad, Denzel frustrated, she had to stop herself, thinking long and hard if she wouldn't be taking something away from them along with her pain.

It was a strange power she had; it was a difficult responsibility.

Sitting back on her heels and wiping her hands on the short apron she'd borrowed from Tifa, she sat back to admire her work. She'd incorporated new types as whim saw fit; Mina had shyly brought her bloom after bloom, and the two girls together had planted them into the rainbow that was forming.

It helped Marlene soothe herself, too She was a descendant of the apocalypse… a Cetra where it was thought there would be no more. How lonely her mother must have felt, with the knowledge of being the last.

Marlene knew she would never be alone.

She had a job now, the proxy for Aerith's legacy in this new world. Understanding had been unfolding since that first embrace, that brief moment where her mother had passed on a lifetime's worth of knowledge with a single spark, and as it unwrapped, it only made Marlene more aware of how much she didn't yet know. She'd told Denzel as much as she could, but she didn't know everything herself, not yet.

Still, she knew more than some.

The flowers are trying to tell us something… but we're not ready to hear.

She wondered if maybe Nanaki could hear.

She turned behind her; Nanaki sat peering intently at her with his one good eye, a placid, patient observer. He hated when people tried to pet him… except for her.

She couldn't resist. She threw her arms around her, running fingers through his mane.

"Flowers mean things, you know," she told him.

"Oh?" His ears pricked up.

"They do." She plucked a yellow one, carefully, with its permission; laced it through his headdress. "You already know these ones, the ones for reunion." She pointed to her scattered pots and planters. "The asters are for patience. The pink ones – " she pointed to a daisy-like flower – "are cosmos, they're for joy."

She rose again. "Daffodils mean new beginnings. Hawthorn, that's for hope. Courage, love, and this one – " she pointed to a purple hyacinth – "is for forgiveness."

"You think Cloud still needs forgiveness?" asked Nanaki, cocking his head in contemplation.

"I think we all need a little bit," Marlene replied.

She stepped back to him, knelt down next to him. "Do you want to see… more?" she asked him. Nanaki could only nod in surprise.

She touched her hand to his head, and Nanaki flinched in shock, as his mind's eye exploded into understanding, as the truths of the Cetra were revealed. He gazed at Marlene, unable to find words to express his amazement, his gratitude.

Marlene only smiled, shushing him with one finger to her lips.

Author's Note: I'm still working on 0014. If you're reading this on the posting date, check back a little later tonight, I'm editing right now.

Some credits: The idea for Barret and Madam M came from an art I saw of them meeting, which I can't find right now, but I just went, "oh, that pairing actually makes a LOT of sense!"

The pizza Tifa mentions is a real thing. We serve it at my work. It's the staff favorite.

And also real are the meanings of flowers. The source I use is a fiction book, "The Language of Flowers," by Vanessa Diffenbaugh; but any search for "Victorian flower meanings" will turn up something similar.