A short story about what goes on immediately after AC ended. In short, here's my sweet musings on what went on when the credits started rolling. Is it Cloti? Yeah. But I did my best to make it non-rabid as I could, and entertaining to read. Romantic fan-fics are perfectly fine, but they do get a little tiring after a while. I tried to make things a little different by making the characters have to deal with...*dramatic pause*...them folks outside their circle of close friends 
In short, it's as realistic as I could possibly make it and still keep it fantasy. So! This story is going to be posted, not in chapters, but in hopefully 4-5 large installments. This is the first one and I hope all that want to read duly enjoy. Witty comments are acceptable if any wish to give them.
[b] Something For the Fangirls…[/B]
Cid and Barret helped pull Cloud out of the pool and once there, the blonde was surrounded by his friends, being hugged and pounded on the back while everyone else in the church cheered.
“You da man Spiky!!” Barret crowed and roughly ruffled said spiky hair.
Cloud couldn’t help but smile at the friendly affection, despite the fact he felt sore all over and was being buffeted around by his friends. He did wince slightly when Cid pounded his shoulder--already feeling stiff--and the brief wish that this gratitude would end quickly came to mind.
He soon found his respite when Tifa stepped up and hugged him. He returned the hug, yet his eyes stayed on the door from which Aerith and Zack had last been seen.
He felt unnaturally light, almost giddy in fact. Yes he was happy, but there was something else… as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders and, for the first time in decades, he was able to stand tall.
Tifa shifted ever so slightly, turning her face more into the soft fabric of the shirt he wore.
Then he knew. He was finally free of the guilt he’d carried with him for two years, weighing him down with the burden of the dead. A burden he made for himself, pulling down any smile before now.
Thank you Aerith. I finally understand.
He was not responsible for the past. He knew that now. There was no need for repentance, no need to seek out what was never required in the first place. The road ahead was just a little bit lighter, a little bit shorter.
Yet still that road was there. That old fear had diminished but had not vanished.
Tifa let go of him, ending the embrace. To have extended it any more would’ve been too obvious to everyone around. Even so, Cid grinned broadly and nudged her in the ribs, making her blush. Once more Cloud was swept up in the tide of grateful people wishing to shake his hand or simply to touch the twice-made hero.
“Come on people, move back, give him some air!” a voice cut through the excited babble. A photographer with a large camera hanging around her neck motioned for people to move away. Reluctantly, the crowd parted, revealing a flushing and somewhat frazzled Cloud.
“All right now, the rest of you get in the picture too! This is for the front page!” the photographer exclaimed. She quickly pushed everyone but the heroes out of the picture and ushered them into place. Getting down on one knee, the photographer held the large camera up to her eye. “Everyone jump and say ‘Hooray!’” she said.
“Hooray!!” Denzel cried, jumping in the air before Cloud, with a smile at the child’s exuberance, could hold him down.
The camera flashed multiple times.
“Okay, that’s good!” she announced, standing up. She stepped forward and shook hands with everyone, even Red. “I’ll send you all a copy when I get it developed.” And with that, she was off.
“If the photographers are here so soon, the press won’t be far behind,” Vincent rumbled.
“He’s right! You should get going Cloud!” Yuffie said. “I’ll distract them if you want!”
“Thanks Yuffie,” Cloud replied. He didn’t feel like dealing with news reporters right now. The expression on Tifa, Denzel, and Marlene’s faces said the same. They wanted to go home--with him in tow. He didn’t mind that all. Now that he thought of it, why did he ever avoid going home?
Home… he had dreamt of it for so long…
Yuffie grinned at him and had to jump to ruffle his hair. “You owe me a materia for it! Come on Red, let’s go!”
The ninja and red canine took off, with Cait Sith shouting something in his heavy accent.
Barret laughed. “Better git goin’ Spiky! We’ll meet ya’ll back at the bar!”
Cloud nodded and, Denzel holding one hand and Marlene the other, took up a swift pace.
“See you later!” Tifa called, waving at the others as she jogged to join them. They waved back, all of them grinning, except for Vincent. But he was always like that anyways.
They reached the bar safely: Yuffie must’ve been distracting the reporters very well. Once there, Tifa ordered the kids to pull shut the safety blinds, shutting out any prying eyes should they come by the bar. Then she went over to Cloud, who’d gratefully collapsed in a chair upon arrival. His eyes were closed and his head leaning back against the chair.
“You okay?” she asked, leaning against the table.
His eyes opened. “Yeah. Just tired.” He shifted and winced a little.
“And sore,” Tifa observed with a small laugh. At first he thought she was going to ruffle his hair: It seemed everyone else had. Surprisingly, she didn’t. She gently brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, which only fell back in place again. She giggled. “Why don’t you take a shower and relax? The others won’t be here for a while.”
“Sure,” he said, but made no move to do so. There was a delicate balance hanging in the air, something about this moment that would be lost if either moved, and came only a few rare times in life. It was something… something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was something on the edge of revelation, not quite visible through the fog wrapped so tightly around it. If he could just figure out…
“Whatchya doin’?” a voice piped up.
Tifa had almost forgotten about the kids, who were watching the two adults with great interest. She smiled at them. “You guys hungry?” she asked. They quickly nodded their heads.
“I’ll go on up,” Cloud said, standing. Tifa nodded and stepped behind the bar, pulling out a skillet to make a very late breakfast for the kids.
Cloud went upstairs and was soon thankfully letting hot water massage aching, protesting muscles. He put his face in the stream of water, eyes closed. So much had happened the past few days. So much had changed. But it was all for the better. He smiled.
“Hello, Hero,” Tifa greeted him brightly when he came back downstairs again. He gave her a questioning look. She pointed at the T.V. behind the bar. “You’re already on the news. “The Hero of Edge” they’re calling you.”
Indeed, there was the headline with an accompanying video of him knocking Bahamut out of the air with a powerful downward slash. He groaned.
Tifa smiled. “Cheer up, it’ll bring in more business.”
The kids were happily eating eggs and bacon and they giggled at his groan.
“You hungry?” Tifa asked. Cloud shook his head.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll get some rest for now.”
Tifa smiled. She was full of smiles today. “Okay. I’ll make sure these two rascals keep it down.” She ruffled Denzel’s hair.
Cloud ascended to his room where all of his belongings, largely untouched due to his prolonged absence, waited for him. Oddly enough, no dust was to be found. Tifa probably cleaned it. She always liked a clean living space. He had no idea that Tifa had cleaned his room nearly every day, maintaining it in the hopes that he would someday return…
He collapsed on the bed with a sigh. Sleeping on an actual bed was an entirely new feeling, having avoided it for so long. He was used to the hard floor of the church, waking up with the usual pain in his back. (Thus he’d come to the brilliant conclusion that sleeping on hard floors caused back pain no matter what age you were, and now quietly scoffed at all the numerous ‘back-pain relief’ mattress commercials. He had the solution: Sleep on a hard wood floor then see how comfortable that bed is afterwards.) He happily, if somewhat tiredly, stretched out on the soft mattress. He rolled on his side, facing the bright window. The light shone through his closed eyelids but he didn’t mind. The light was comforting.
It was barely noon, but he was so, so, tired… he was… so… very… asleep.
*
Tifa came to check on him by late afternoon. She found him dead asleep, not even having so much as twitched a muscle when she had come by to wake him for lunch. But she couldn’t wake him. He looked so peaceful as he slept, something that had eluded him before. Every time she had seen him sleeping--or trying at least--before this, it’d been restless at best. His sleep had been wracked by terrible, disturbing dreams, often resulting in him waking at night in a cold sweat.
No dreams troubled him now, though, for the first time since she could remember. She stood before his bed and a sweet, happy feeling came over her. She was so glad he was back; back home, back in her life. And she never wanted him to leave.
She pulled the covers over him, risking the chance--though unlikely--of waking him in exchange for a little coddling care. Though a rather light sleeper, not an eyelid fluttered as she covered him up.
Stepping out of his room afterwards, Tifa took one last look at his sleeping form. As she did, a painful emotion swept through her, beginning from her chest and flying upwards, blurring her vision. She recalled the painful memory of sitting on that bed just the very night before, saying the same thing over and over again, praying…
She pushed the thought away. He was here. That’s all that mattered.
*
Cloud woke the next morning to the sound of children laughing. He squinted against the harsh light from the window and read the clock, which loudly displayed the time standing at a little past ten. He was quickly aware of three things: He was hungry, he was thirsty, and he desperately needed to use the facilities or otherwise face doing lots of laundry.
After the usual morning ablutions, Cloud descended the stairs to find Barret, Marlene, Denzel and Tifa playing a game of cards. Barret let out a disappointed groan as Marlene hauled in the fake chips, grinning from ear to ear.
“Good morning, Cloud!” Tifa called cheerfully.
Barret looked up. “Heh-hey! Spiky finally woke up!”
“Hey,” was Cloud’s simple greeting. “What’s going on here?”
Marlene laughed. “We’re playing poker! It’s a LOT easier than people say it really is.”
“I don’t get it,” Denzel griped in the endearing way only children can manage.
“You slept the whole day and night,” Tifa told Cloud as he rounded up some cereal. “Everyone got caught by the paparazzi, so they’re coming over today instead.”
He nodded, crunching on some cereal and walked over to stand behind Denzel. Reaching over Denzel’s shoulder, he tossed a few fake chips into the growing pile at the center. The others paused to consider this.
“Is everyone coming?” he asked mildly.
“Yeah. Except the cameras,” Tifa answered and threw down a card and some chips.
There was a pause in the conversation for a long while as the pile of chips grew and everyone tried to maneuver everyone else to their own personal advantage. Or, they thought they were at least.
“Hope ya got enough sleep for a long party, Spiky,” Barret said after an intense half hour of guessing and manipulating.
“Hm… I think so,” Cloud said. He pushed Denzel’s hands down, revealing the four jacks he held. Cloud ruffled Denzel’s hair and walked away to get more cereal as gasps of surprise rose from around the table.
The rest of the companions started trickling in by late afternoon, each having some tale to reenact about Bahamut, getting to Edge, or just getting to the bar at all. It was Cid and Shera that came with the many pieces of Cloud’s sword. They had retrieved every blade, they assured him, and he was most grateful to have it back. It seemed like he would’ve spent the entire party examining and polishing every inch of every blade that made the whole sword until the others forcibly dragged him away.
Someone--he suspected it was Yuffie--had brought a stereo system from which music was loudly booming. Nearly everyone was dancing to the fast-paced music, except for Cloud and Vincent. As Yuffie dragged the swordsman onto the dance floor, he complained loudly.
“I don’t dance. Seriously, no, I don’t dance,” he shouted over the music and went back to his place on the sidelines, dragging Yuffie behind him even though she dug in her heels. Finally she let go and sat down on the floor hard with a frustrated expression.
While Cloud sat on the sidelines, the others began showing off their dance moves. Cid was quite good at break dancing, something no one had foreseen in him. He moved off the floor to be replaced by Yuffie, who had her own style of dancing. It suspiciously resembled that of a fan dance, but with a Yuffiesque twist.
Tifa came on to the stage with a high kick, her foot pointing directly at the ceiling. Suddenly, the music changed and she stopped, uncertain, as the others ‘awww’ed at what she would do next. The music had a moderate pace and was slower than the previous and had no words, only a unique melody and moving rhythm. Tifa swiftly adopted another style. Sashaying her hips in time to the music, she changed to what could only be called belly dancing. And she did it quite well.
Whistles sprang into the air as she danced, but she only smiled. The cat-call’s soon ceased, everyone entranced by the rhythmic motion of her body. Her eyes half-closed, Tifa continued dancing, unconsciously moving perfectly to the music. Suddenly the music stopped. Cheers broke the ensuing silence, and everyone clapped. The loud sounds of cheering and clapping broke Cloud from his trance, and only then did he realize he’d been staring. Tifa blushed, curtsied, and left the floor. The dancing resumed.
“You should go out and dance a little, you know,” a voice said softly into Cloud’s ear. He looked behind him and saw Tifa bending over the bar. He shook his head.
“I don’t dance,” he repeated.
“Then at least sing along with the music,” Tifa suggested, smiling.
“I don’t sing,” he replied.
Tifa couldn’t help but laugh. She ruffled his hair playfully. “Okay smarty-pants. But this crowd is going to make you dance sooner or later.”
She left a stricken-looking Cloud. He knew she was right. He tried to think himself invisible and did his best to blend into the wood. (Now there’s something hugely ironic: Cloud blending in. Ha!)
The Shinra also showed up at the party, Reno banging loudly on the door and asking if anyone was inside. An absurd question, since the music could surely be heard outside. Tifa let them all in, Reno the first one in the door, a grin on his face. He, of all people, was meant to party.
Their arrival barely disturbed the goings-on of the party. Everyone greeted them in some fashion, acknowledging their presence as well as their contribution to the recently passed ordeal. Later, they found out that the Shinra sought refuge here because they, too, were being hounded by the press.
Rufus sat in the wheelchair, talking to Red about something. Tseng and Elena sat down in a booth and also talked. Rude and Vincent exchanged icy glares from opposite corners.
Reno, however, jumped right into the party. Snagging Tifa as a partner, he proved to be a very good swing dancer, the fast-paced music matching him perfectly. Cid and Shera tried to match the other pair and looked like they were a worthy challenge until Cid stumbled, grabbed Shera for support, and the two crashed to the floor. Tifa and Reno danced around the two easily, laughing as Cid cursed and tried to untangle himself.
As the end of the song neared, Reno sent Tifa spinning away from him, and she twirled impressively until her foot caught on the leg of a bar stool that had been pushed out too far onto the makeshift dance floor. She stumbled, tripped and fell. Shutting her eyes, she braced herself for the impact--
That never came. She stopped in mid-fall. Opening her squinched eyes, she looked up into Cloud’s azure gaze. Something in his eyes, in his quiet smile, caught her, but she couldn’t tell what. She never looked away as she straightened, didn’t blink when he took her hand and the two began dancing to a slow, soothing song.
They were not the only ones dancing. Tseng and Elena decided to join as well. Cid, apparently one not to give up so easily, danced with Shera, and Yuffie was dancing with a fiercely blushing Denzel. But for all Tifa was aware, they could’ve been a million miles away.
The dance came to an abrupt end. Tifa looked around, only then realizing there were other people around her. Barret caught her eye and grinned widely, winking. She blushed fiercely, realizing most of her friends had been watching. Cloud only laughed quietly; he didn’t mind the others hoots and calls.
“You can dance,” Tifa said timidly as the two returned to the bar.
Cloud smiled his quiet smile. “Only for special occasions,” he said. She blushed again and smiled back.
*
“There’s a spot on my sword,” Cloud remarked unhappily.
The party had finally come to an end, and it was just into the morning of the next day. Everyone had helped to clean up and had left for their respective homes to sleep the day away.
Tifa, who’d just finished putting the kids to bed, folded her arms on Cloud’s back, leaning on him as he sat at the bar, and rested her chin on his shoulder. She didn’t have the strength to stand up without some kind of support and Cloud made a convenient pillar to lean on. She peered bleary-eyed at the serrated blade Cloud was inspecting.
“I don’t see anything,” she mumbled. The dancing had worn her out and she wanted to go to bed.
“Right there, see it?” He pointed to an invisible mark on the blade.
“Oh come on, you can barely see it.”
“Still… It’s there.” He rubbed at the spot vigorously with a corner of his shirt.
“Don’t do that,” Tifa protested, reaching around him to pluck the heavy-knit cloth from his hand. “You’ll stretch the shirt out if you do that. And then there’s the laundry to do and that woman is so mean there…”
Cloud paused to consider these words. He honestly didn’t mind if he stretched the shirt out--he had plenty more just like it. As for the laundry, he didn’t mind doing it. Yet this woman at the Laundromat sounded quite formidable, if anything Tifa was incoherently mumbling into his back was true.
He figured it was time for her to go to bed. As he slid off the stool, catching Tifa as she lolled on her feet, he realized just how tired he was as well. Every muscle had gone stiff once more, a sure sign of his body saying in no uncertain terms was it to be doing any kind of activity until it got some rest.
Tifa stumbled as he led her to the stairs. Figuring to simply save time and a possible trip to the emergency room, Cloud scooped her up and proceeded to carry her up the stairs. More asleep than anything else, she still managed to mumble something. He thought it sounded like ‘detergent’.
Cloud had carried Tifa to her bed on numerous occasions, having often found her asleep sitting at the bar as she waited for him to come home every night. At first, he merely returned to find an awake but tired Tifa greeting him. As time passed and the disease progressed, however, he stayed away for longer periods of time, often returning to find Tifa sound asleep, slumped over the bar. He could usually wake her and escort her to bed, but eventually he was unable to do even that. One thing about Tifa--when she is asleep for a long enough period of time, she is asleep for good.
Thus Cloud had perfected the technique of opening the door while carrying her, of pulling back the covers and setting her down carefully. She automatically snuggled down into the bed’s soft folds. As he pulled the covers over her, he felt a tug on his shirt. He crouched at her bedside.
“Yeah?”
A slender hand emerged from under the covers and tapped him on the nose.
“Goodnight Cloud,” Tifa said, smiling sleepily.
“Goodnight Tifa.” He stood and paused at the doorway of her room to look back. She was sound asleep. Shaking his head at a distant thought, he left.
*
They awoke the next morning to the sound of the phone ringing.
Cloud, wrenched unhappily from the first peaceful sleep he’d had in what felt like years, listened with only half an ear and quarter mind as Tifa picked up the bedside phone.
“Wha…?” she began. “You know what time it is? No, he’s asleep.” A heavy sigh. “I’m Tifa Lockhart. Now can I--What? I’m not doing an interview at four in the morning you bastard!” The sound of a phone being roughly slammed into its cradle reached Cloud through his bedroom door.
“Who was it?” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard.
“Friggin news-guys. Go back to sleep.”
More than happy to do just that, Cloud gratefully let his mind drift into the fuzzy warm depths of sleep once more. Just as the last tie to consciousness was about to be cut, the phone rang again.
An annoyed sigh from Tifa’s room. “Hello? No. He’s asleep and so was I. No… Will… Just stop… Goodbye!” she finally shouted and slammed the phone down again.
“Wha?” Cloud mumbled again.
“More news idiots. Nevermind.”
This time, Cloud waited , not wanting the peaceful serenity of sleep be interrupted again. He kept half an eye on the clock, watching the minutes tick by. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Almost thirty minutes and nothing had disturbed the silent house. Smiling into his pillow, he welcomed the familiar feeling of dropping back into the soft oblivion of sleep, after taking a longer than usual wait for it to come back.
The phone rang.
Cloud sighed wearily and Tifa echoed her frustration with a sound between a growl and a shout. “What is it?!” Silence. “Go to hell, you stupid asshole!! Call again and I swear I’ll shove your stupid little phone so far up your ass you’ll be chewing buttons!!” Slam.
After a moment, Tifa added “And what’re you laughing about?”
“Nothing!” said Cloud, who’d been doing his best to muffle his laughter in the pillow. He had never heard Tifa swear nor threaten like that before and it was remarkably funny to witness it now. You learn a lot of things when you tend a bar, he thought.
Silence, sweet, beautiful silence, once more enfolded the house. This time, Cloud stayed awake even longer. He waited a full forty minutes before beginning the now arduous journey down into rest. This process had now become harder than before and took much, much longer.
He was teetering on the edge of sleep when a loud banging echoed through the building.
Tifa swore. Cloud swore too.
Tifa flew downstairs and Cloud caught a glimpse of her rushing past the bedroom door that was cracked open a little. Her feet pounded down the stairs. Keys jingled and metal rattled as she raised the metal shutters. Throughout all this, the pounding had kept going, nonstop.
The sight of whoever it was at the door made Tifa yell something he couldn’t make out. No doubt it was more reporters.
Anger stirred in Cloud. This was not an easy thing to do. Cloud did not consider himself as a particularly violent man prone to starting fights and quick to anger, though that had been the story of his childhood. These days it took quite a bit to make him what one would call angry. It took a hell of a lot to make him so angry he’d start dishing out the damage.
But now that feeling of anger touched him. He’d fought foes well beyond many, faced demons of both flesh and phantom, and there was always that gap in his memory of facing the last two Remnants and waking up in the church and whenever he thought of it, fear raced down his spine. And to top it off, he and his close friends were being harassed by the press.
This was going to stop.
Sitting up, Cloud flung back the covers, resolved to put an end to this. He’d been too tired to bother doing anymore than removing the shirt last night, and was still wearing his pants. Which is probably a good thing, too, he thought. It sounds like it’s getting violent down there.
Stuffing his feet into his boots, Cloud rushed downstairs, only pausing long enough to grab a serrated blade by the door that he’d been inspecting the night previous. Logic told him it would be very unwise for the press to see him with a sword in hand as this would make him seem violent and the press always warps things to be much more dramatic than they really are. Yet anger told Cloud that he didn’t really give a shit.
Downstairs, Tifa--clad only in a sleeveless tank top and rather short pajama shorts--was yelling at some man who held the door open. She was bathed in a blinding light that came from outside. The babble of many people beyond the door was also easy to hear.
Anger made Cloud not care what he looked like. Anger made Cloud step into the pool of light, gently pushing Tifa aside, anger made him not notice several photographers whose cameras were flashing madly at his approach, and anger made him give the reporter a look that could have cut steel. Then he slammed the door shut--which was glass and did little to keep the light or prying eyes out--he reached up, grabbed the metal shutter and brought it down in one swift movement.
The light was abruptly cut off, but the babble from the camps of reporters and news crews outside could still be heard.
Cloud turned around, saw Tifa’s face and anger fled leaving him holding the bag.
“What?”
She just stared at him with her mouth open in the most pure look of utter surprise he’d ever seen.
“What?” he repeated.
“What the hell are you doing?” she finally managed, ending her incredulous question with half a laugh.
Anger briefly came back. “Making sure the bastards leave us alone. Why?”
Her gaze dropped to somewhere just below his chin. Following her gaze, he realized he’d forgone putting on a shirt in his haste to get downstairs. Her gaze dropped further and towards his right. Once more following her stare, he realized he still held the sword. Memory of the look he’d given the reporter came back to him and his face got hot.
“Oh Shit.” He could think of nothing else to say.
Tifa laughed. Her face was also a bright red, but why he couldn’t say. She certainly couldn’t have suffered any embarrassment as he had.
“Oh well. They’ve got pictures now. And I’m sure they’ll stay away now. Maybe even stop calling.” Then she just gave him a smile that made him impossibly flush even more. There was something all too knowing about that kind of a smile… and when a woman smiled like that something was up.
“What’s going on?” said a small voice.
They both turned to the source of the voice standing at the top of the stairs. Denzel rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and squinted down at them.
“Nothing Denzzy,” said Tifa, climbing the stairs. “Just some very rude people that’s all. Don’t worry, Cloud’s taken care of them.”
Denzel’s face immediately brightened, and he resisted Tifa’s hands that had been guiding him back to his room.
“Did ya fight ‘em!”
Cloud snorted and Tifa laughed. “No. But that might’ve been a better alternative,” he growled.
“Come on, off to bed with you,” Tifa said, pushing Denzel further into the room. She flashed Cloud a smile as Cloud went by to his own room.
Gently laying the sword down where he’d snatched it up, Cloud flung himself on his bed in his usual way, face first into the pillows.
Down the hall, he heard Tifa put Denzel and Marlene back to bed and finally enter her own room. Then there was silence.
Even though he was tired and the phone no longer shrieked in his ear, he couldn’t get to sleep. Something about the silence seemed wrong. The reporters had given up far too easily, in his mind. Perhaps they’d been scared off after all.
Or maybe they got just what they wanted…
*
HERO OF EDGE SHOWS MORE THAN FACE TO CAMERA!
“Oh Shit,” said Cloud.
“Watch your language around the kids!” admonished Tifa. She giggled. “But you have to admit, it is rather dramatic.”
He glared at her and turned back to the morning newspaper. On the front, taking up half the paper length, was a photo of him, sword, glare, shirtless and all. If there was a hole in the ground, Cloud would’ve gladly jumped in it. No force on heaven or earth would be able to pry him out, either.
On the counter of the bar, Tifa’s cell phone buzzed loudly. All the phones in the building were off the hook, the only way to stop the flood of calls. Only their cell phones were still on.
Tifa snatched it up and put it to her ear. “Hello? I know, we’re looking at it right now!!”
Yuffie she mouthed to him. “Uh huh. Isn’t it just hilarious?” Tifa listened for a moment with a big grin on her face and suddenly burst out laughing. “She says she’s gonna tell Cid!”
“What? Give me that!” Cloud grabbed the phone from Tifa, ignoring her protests. “Yuffie, you are not, under any circumstances, to show this to Cid. Got it?”
“Oh, he’s gonna love it!” Yuffie squeaked. “Bye Cloud, gotta lot of calls to make!”
“No, don’t hang--damn.”
Tifa punched him in the shoulder, which he barely noticed.
“I said don’t swear in front of the kids!” she said, but her spirit wasn’t in the mocking tone. She was from grinning ear to ear.
“Don’t worry,” said Denzel as he gulped up his oatmeal. “I’ve heard a lot worse.”
“Me too,” Marlene chipped in.
As Tifa opened her mouth in astonishment and was about to deliver an admonishing speech, the phone on the counter rumbled once again.
This time Cloud picked it up before Tifa and grumbled “Hello?”
“Spiky!!”
“Oh sh--”
Punch on his arm.
Barret laughed heartily into the speaker. “Didja see the paper yet?”
“Unfortunately.”
This time Cloud winced and pulled the phone away from his ear as Barret bawled with laughter.
“Y-you look like some god damned m-male s-stripper!!”
Anger, the ever willing ally in times where it really shouldn’t be, came to him. “Shut the hell up, Barret this isn’t funny!”
Nothing but laughter answered him. A withering retort formed on Cloud’s lips just as Barret hung up, apparently helpless in throws of gut-busting laughter.
Cloud flipped the phone shut, silently cursing the waste of a good comeback.
“Would you like some more coffee?” Tifa asked cheerily.
He gazed down at his empty mug and considered asking for a beer instead. But he knew what she’d say and so he simply said “Yeah.”
He stared into the black swirling brew as Tifa put in sugar and stirred it up for him. He didn’t have the heart to lift it.
A hand ruffled his hair.
“Oh come on, this is big! Let them have a little fun,” Tifa said consolingly.
Cloud merely sighed and said over the top of the mug as he lifted it, “But do I have to be the butt of the joke?”
She just shrugged and smiled. Then she leaned forward, over the counter and said so only he could hear. “But you have to admit one thing…”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“It is a good picture,” she said with a wink.
Cloud felt his face get unbearably hot. Before he could think of something to say, she just slid away, still smiling, leaving him alone at the bar.
In short, it's as realistic as I could possibly make it and still keep it fantasy. So! This story is going to be posted, not in chapters, but in hopefully 4-5 large installments. This is the first one and I hope all that want to read duly enjoy. Witty comments are acceptable if any wish to give them.
[b] Something For the Fangirls…[/B]
Cid and Barret helped pull Cloud out of the pool and once there, the blonde was surrounded by his friends, being hugged and pounded on the back while everyone else in the church cheered.
“You da man Spiky!!” Barret crowed and roughly ruffled said spiky hair.
Cloud couldn’t help but smile at the friendly affection, despite the fact he felt sore all over and was being buffeted around by his friends. He did wince slightly when Cid pounded his shoulder--already feeling stiff--and the brief wish that this gratitude would end quickly came to mind.
He soon found his respite when Tifa stepped up and hugged him. He returned the hug, yet his eyes stayed on the door from which Aerith and Zack had last been seen.
He felt unnaturally light, almost giddy in fact. Yes he was happy, but there was something else… as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders and, for the first time in decades, he was able to stand tall.
Tifa shifted ever so slightly, turning her face more into the soft fabric of the shirt he wore.
Then he knew. He was finally free of the guilt he’d carried with him for two years, weighing him down with the burden of the dead. A burden he made for himself, pulling down any smile before now.
Thank you Aerith. I finally understand.
He was not responsible for the past. He knew that now. There was no need for repentance, no need to seek out what was never required in the first place. The road ahead was just a little bit lighter, a little bit shorter.
Yet still that road was there. That old fear had diminished but had not vanished.
Tifa let go of him, ending the embrace. To have extended it any more would’ve been too obvious to everyone around. Even so, Cid grinned broadly and nudged her in the ribs, making her blush. Once more Cloud was swept up in the tide of grateful people wishing to shake his hand or simply to touch the twice-made hero.
“Come on people, move back, give him some air!” a voice cut through the excited babble. A photographer with a large camera hanging around her neck motioned for people to move away. Reluctantly, the crowd parted, revealing a flushing and somewhat frazzled Cloud.
“All right now, the rest of you get in the picture too! This is for the front page!” the photographer exclaimed. She quickly pushed everyone but the heroes out of the picture and ushered them into place. Getting down on one knee, the photographer held the large camera up to her eye. “Everyone jump and say ‘Hooray!’” she said.
“Hooray!!” Denzel cried, jumping in the air before Cloud, with a smile at the child’s exuberance, could hold him down.
The camera flashed multiple times.
“Okay, that’s good!” she announced, standing up. She stepped forward and shook hands with everyone, even Red. “I’ll send you all a copy when I get it developed.” And with that, she was off.
“If the photographers are here so soon, the press won’t be far behind,” Vincent rumbled.
“He’s right! You should get going Cloud!” Yuffie said. “I’ll distract them if you want!”
“Thanks Yuffie,” Cloud replied. He didn’t feel like dealing with news reporters right now. The expression on Tifa, Denzel, and Marlene’s faces said the same. They wanted to go home--with him in tow. He didn’t mind that all. Now that he thought of it, why did he ever avoid going home?
Home… he had dreamt of it for so long…
Yuffie grinned at him and had to jump to ruffle his hair. “You owe me a materia for it! Come on Red, let’s go!”
The ninja and red canine took off, with Cait Sith shouting something in his heavy accent.
Barret laughed. “Better git goin’ Spiky! We’ll meet ya’ll back at the bar!”
Cloud nodded and, Denzel holding one hand and Marlene the other, took up a swift pace.
“See you later!” Tifa called, waving at the others as she jogged to join them. They waved back, all of them grinning, except for Vincent. But he was always like that anyways.
They reached the bar safely: Yuffie must’ve been distracting the reporters very well. Once there, Tifa ordered the kids to pull shut the safety blinds, shutting out any prying eyes should they come by the bar. Then she went over to Cloud, who’d gratefully collapsed in a chair upon arrival. His eyes were closed and his head leaning back against the chair.
“You okay?” she asked, leaning against the table.
His eyes opened. “Yeah. Just tired.” He shifted and winced a little.
“And sore,” Tifa observed with a small laugh. At first he thought she was going to ruffle his hair: It seemed everyone else had. Surprisingly, she didn’t. She gently brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, which only fell back in place again. She giggled. “Why don’t you take a shower and relax? The others won’t be here for a while.”
“Sure,” he said, but made no move to do so. There was a delicate balance hanging in the air, something about this moment that would be lost if either moved, and came only a few rare times in life. It was something… something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was something on the edge of revelation, not quite visible through the fog wrapped so tightly around it. If he could just figure out…
“Whatchya doin’?” a voice piped up.
Tifa had almost forgotten about the kids, who were watching the two adults with great interest. She smiled at them. “You guys hungry?” she asked. They quickly nodded their heads.
“I’ll go on up,” Cloud said, standing. Tifa nodded and stepped behind the bar, pulling out a skillet to make a very late breakfast for the kids.
Cloud went upstairs and was soon thankfully letting hot water massage aching, protesting muscles. He put his face in the stream of water, eyes closed. So much had happened the past few days. So much had changed. But it was all for the better. He smiled.
“Hello, Hero,” Tifa greeted him brightly when he came back downstairs again. He gave her a questioning look. She pointed at the T.V. behind the bar. “You’re already on the news. “The Hero of Edge” they’re calling you.”
Indeed, there was the headline with an accompanying video of him knocking Bahamut out of the air with a powerful downward slash. He groaned.
Tifa smiled. “Cheer up, it’ll bring in more business.”
The kids were happily eating eggs and bacon and they giggled at his groan.
“You hungry?” Tifa asked. Cloud shook his head.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll get some rest for now.”
Tifa smiled. She was full of smiles today. “Okay. I’ll make sure these two rascals keep it down.” She ruffled Denzel’s hair.
Cloud ascended to his room where all of his belongings, largely untouched due to his prolonged absence, waited for him. Oddly enough, no dust was to be found. Tifa probably cleaned it. She always liked a clean living space. He had no idea that Tifa had cleaned his room nearly every day, maintaining it in the hopes that he would someday return…
He collapsed on the bed with a sigh. Sleeping on an actual bed was an entirely new feeling, having avoided it for so long. He was used to the hard floor of the church, waking up with the usual pain in his back. (Thus he’d come to the brilliant conclusion that sleeping on hard floors caused back pain no matter what age you were, and now quietly scoffed at all the numerous ‘back-pain relief’ mattress commercials. He had the solution: Sleep on a hard wood floor then see how comfortable that bed is afterwards.) He happily, if somewhat tiredly, stretched out on the soft mattress. He rolled on his side, facing the bright window. The light shone through his closed eyelids but he didn’t mind. The light was comforting.
It was barely noon, but he was so, so, tired… he was… so… very… asleep.
*
Tifa came to check on him by late afternoon. She found him dead asleep, not even having so much as twitched a muscle when she had come by to wake him for lunch. But she couldn’t wake him. He looked so peaceful as he slept, something that had eluded him before. Every time she had seen him sleeping--or trying at least--before this, it’d been restless at best. His sleep had been wracked by terrible, disturbing dreams, often resulting in him waking at night in a cold sweat.
No dreams troubled him now, though, for the first time since she could remember. She stood before his bed and a sweet, happy feeling came over her. She was so glad he was back; back home, back in her life. And she never wanted him to leave.
She pulled the covers over him, risking the chance--though unlikely--of waking him in exchange for a little coddling care. Though a rather light sleeper, not an eyelid fluttered as she covered him up.
Stepping out of his room afterwards, Tifa took one last look at his sleeping form. As she did, a painful emotion swept through her, beginning from her chest and flying upwards, blurring her vision. She recalled the painful memory of sitting on that bed just the very night before, saying the same thing over and over again, praying…
She pushed the thought away. He was here. That’s all that mattered.
*
Cloud woke the next morning to the sound of children laughing. He squinted against the harsh light from the window and read the clock, which loudly displayed the time standing at a little past ten. He was quickly aware of three things: He was hungry, he was thirsty, and he desperately needed to use the facilities or otherwise face doing lots of laundry.
After the usual morning ablutions, Cloud descended the stairs to find Barret, Marlene, Denzel and Tifa playing a game of cards. Barret let out a disappointed groan as Marlene hauled in the fake chips, grinning from ear to ear.
“Good morning, Cloud!” Tifa called cheerfully.
Barret looked up. “Heh-hey! Spiky finally woke up!”
“Hey,” was Cloud’s simple greeting. “What’s going on here?”
Marlene laughed. “We’re playing poker! It’s a LOT easier than people say it really is.”
“I don’t get it,” Denzel griped in the endearing way only children can manage.
“You slept the whole day and night,” Tifa told Cloud as he rounded up some cereal. “Everyone got caught by the paparazzi, so they’re coming over today instead.”
He nodded, crunching on some cereal and walked over to stand behind Denzel. Reaching over Denzel’s shoulder, he tossed a few fake chips into the growing pile at the center. The others paused to consider this.
“Is everyone coming?” he asked mildly.
“Yeah. Except the cameras,” Tifa answered and threw down a card and some chips.
There was a pause in the conversation for a long while as the pile of chips grew and everyone tried to maneuver everyone else to their own personal advantage. Or, they thought they were at least.
“Hope ya got enough sleep for a long party, Spiky,” Barret said after an intense half hour of guessing and manipulating.
“Hm… I think so,” Cloud said. He pushed Denzel’s hands down, revealing the four jacks he held. Cloud ruffled Denzel’s hair and walked away to get more cereal as gasps of surprise rose from around the table.
The rest of the companions started trickling in by late afternoon, each having some tale to reenact about Bahamut, getting to Edge, or just getting to the bar at all. It was Cid and Shera that came with the many pieces of Cloud’s sword. They had retrieved every blade, they assured him, and he was most grateful to have it back. It seemed like he would’ve spent the entire party examining and polishing every inch of every blade that made the whole sword until the others forcibly dragged him away.
Someone--he suspected it was Yuffie--had brought a stereo system from which music was loudly booming. Nearly everyone was dancing to the fast-paced music, except for Cloud and Vincent. As Yuffie dragged the swordsman onto the dance floor, he complained loudly.
“I don’t dance. Seriously, no, I don’t dance,” he shouted over the music and went back to his place on the sidelines, dragging Yuffie behind him even though she dug in her heels. Finally she let go and sat down on the floor hard with a frustrated expression.
While Cloud sat on the sidelines, the others began showing off their dance moves. Cid was quite good at break dancing, something no one had foreseen in him. He moved off the floor to be replaced by Yuffie, who had her own style of dancing. It suspiciously resembled that of a fan dance, but with a Yuffiesque twist.
Tifa came on to the stage with a high kick, her foot pointing directly at the ceiling. Suddenly, the music changed and she stopped, uncertain, as the others ‘awww’ed at what she would do next. The music had a moderate pace and was slower than the previous and had no words, only a unique melody and moving rhythm. Tifa swiftly adopted another style. Sashaying her hips in time to the music, she changed to what could only be called belly dancing. And she did it quite well.
Whistles sprang into the air as she danced, but she only smiled. The cat-call’s soon ceased, everyone entranced by the rhythmic motion of her body. Her eyes half-closed, Tifa continued dancing, unconsciously moving perfectly to the music. Suddenly the music stopped. Cheers broke the ensuing silence, and everyone clapped. The loud sounds of cheering and clapping broke Cloud from his trance, and only then did he realize he’d been staring. Tifa blushed, curtsied, and left the floor. The dancing resumed.
“You should go out and dance a little, you know,” a voice said softly into Cloud’s ear. He looked behind him and saw Tifa bending over the bar. He shook his head.
“I don’t dance,” he repeated.
“Then at least sing along with the music,” Tifa suggested, smiling.
“I don’t sing,” he replied.
Tifa couldn’t help but laugh. She ruffled his hair playfully. “Okay smarty-pants. But this crowd is going to make you dance sooner or later.”
She left a stricken-looking Cloud. He knew she was right. He tried to think himself invisible and did his best to blend into the wood. (Now there’s something hugely ironic: Cloud blending in. Ha!)
The Shinra also showed up at the party, Reno banging loudly on the door and asking if anyone was inside. An absurd question, since the music could surely be heard outside. Tifa let them all in, Reno the first one in the door, a grin on his face. He, of all people, was meant to party.
Their arrival barely disturbed the goings-on of the party. Everyone greeted them in some fashion, acknowledging their presence as well as their contribution to the recently passed ordeal. Later, they found out that the Shinra sought refuge here because they, too, were being hounded by the press.
Rufus sat in the wheelchair, talking to Red about something. Tseng and Elena sat down in a booth and also talked. Rude and Vincent exchanged icy glares from opposite corners.
Reno, however, jumped right into the party. Snagging Tifa as a partner, he proved to be a very good swing dancer, the fast-paced music matching him perfectly. Cid and Shera tried to match the other pair and looked like they were a worthy challenge until Cid stumbled, grabbed Shera for support, and the two crashed to the floor. Tifa and Reno danced around the two easily, laughing as Cid cursed and tried to untangle himself.
As the end of the song neared, Reno sent Tifa spinning away from him, and she twirled impressively until her foot caught on the leg of a bar stool that had been pushed out too far onto the makeshift dance floor. She stumbled, tripped and fell. Shutting her eyes, she braced herself for the impact--
That never came. She stopped in mid-fall. Opening her squinched eyes, she looked up into Cloud’s azure gaze. Something in his eyes, in his quiet smile, caught her, but she couldn’t tell what. She never looked away as she straightened, didn’t blink when he took her hand and the two began dancing to a slow, soothing song.
They were not the only ones dancing. Tseng and Elena decided to join as well. Cid, apparently one not to give up so easily, danced with Shera, and Yuffie was dancing with a fiercely blushing Denzel. But for all Tifa was aware, they could’ve been a million miles away.
The dance came to an abrupt end. Tifa looked around, only then realizing there were other people around her. Barret caught her eye and grinned widely, winking. She blushed fiercely, realizing most of her friends had been watching. Cloud only laughed quietly; he didn’t mind the others hoots and calls.
“You can dance,” Tifa said timidly as the two returned to the bar.
Cloud smiled his quiet smile. “Only for special occasions,” he said. She blushed again and smiled back.
*
“There’s a spot on my sword,” Cloud remarked unhappily.
The party had finally come to an end, and it was just into the morning of the next day. Everyone had helped to clean up and had left for their respective homes to sleep the day away.
Tifa, who’d just finished putting the kids to bed, folded her arms on Cloud’s back, leaning on him as he sat at the bar, and rested her chin on his shoulder. She didn’t have the strength to stand up without some kind of support and Cloud made a convenient pillar to lean on. She peered bleary-eyed at the serrated blade Cloud was inspecting.
“I don’t see anything,” she mumbled. The dancing had worn her out and she wanted to go to bed.
“Right there, see it?” He pointed to an invisible mark on the blade.
“Oh come on, you can barely see it.”
“Still… It’s there.” He rubbed at the spot vigorously with a corner of his shirt.
“Don’t do that,” Tifa protested, reaching around him to pluck the heavy-knit cloth from his hand. “You’ll stretch the shirt out if you do that. And then there’s the laundry to do and that woman is so mean there…”
Cloud paused to consider these words. He honestly didn’t mind if he stretched the shirt out--he had plenty more just like it. As for the laundry, he didn’t mind doing it. Yet this woman at the Laundromat sounded quite formidable, if anything Tifa was incoherently mumbling into his back was true.
He figured it was time for her to go to bed. As he slid off the stool, catching Tifa as she lolled on her feet, he realized just how tired he was as well. Every muscle had gone stiff once more, a sure sign of his body saying in no uncertain terms was it to be doing any kind of activity until it got some rest.
Tifa stumbled as he led her to the stairs. Figuring to simply save time and a possible trip to the emergency room, Cloud scooped her up and proceeded to carry her up the stairs. More asleep than anything else, she still managed to mumble something. He thought it sounded like ‘detergent’.
Cloud had carried Tifa to her bed on numerous occasions, having often found her asleep sitting at the bar as she waited for him to come home every night. At first, he merely returned to find an awake but tired Tifa greeting him. As time passed and the disease progressed, however, he stayed away for longer periods of time, often returning to find Tifa sound asleep, slumped over the bar. He could usually wake her and escort her to bed, but eventually he was unable to do even that. One thing about Tifa--when she is asleep for a long enough period of time, she is asleep for good.
Thus Cloud had perfected the technique of opening the door while carrying her, of pulling back the covers and setting her down carefully. She automatically snuggled down into the bed’s soft folds. As he pulled the covers over her, he felt a tug on his shirt. He crouched at her bedside.
“Yeah?”
A slender hand emerged from under the covers and tapped him on the nose.
“Goodnight Cloud,” Tifa said, smiling sleepily.
“Goodnight Tifa.” He stood and paused at the doorway of her room to look back. She was sound asleep. Shaking his head at a distant thought, he left.
*
They awoke the next morning to the sound of the phone ringing.
Cloud, wrenched unhappily from the first peaceful sleep he’d had in what felt like years, listened with only half an ear and quarter mind as Tifa picked up the bedside phone.
“Wha…?” she began. “You know what time it is? No, he’s asleep.” A heavy sigh. “I’m Tifa Lockhart. Now can I--What? I’m not doing an interview at four in the morning you bastard!” The sound of a phone being roughly slammed into its cradle reached Cloud through his bedroom door.
“Who was it?” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard.
“Friggin news-guys. Go back to sleep.”
More than happy to do just that, Cloud gratefully let his mind drift into the fuzzy warm depths of sleep once more. Just as the last tie to consciousness was about to be cut, the phone rang again.
An annoyed sigh from Tifa’s room. “Hello? No. He’s asleep and so was I. No… Will… Just stop… Goodbye!” she finally shouted and slammed the phone down again.
“Wha?” Cloud mumbled again.
“More news idiots. Nevermind.”
This time, Cloud waited , not wanting the peaceful serenity of sleep be interrupted again. He kept half an eye on the clock, watching the minutes tick by. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Almost thirty minutes and nothing had disturbed the silent house. Smiling into his pillow, he welcomed the familiar feeling of dropping back into the soft oblivion of sleep, after taking a longer than usual wait for it to come back.
The phone rang.
Cloud sighed wearily and Tifa echoed her frustration with a sound between a growl and a shout. “What is it?!” Silence. “Go to hell, you stupid asshole!! Call again and I swear I’ll shove your stupid little phone so far up your ass you’ll be chewing buttons!!” Slam.
After a moment, Tifa added “And what’re you laughing about?”
“Nothing!” said Cloud, who’d been doing his best to muffle his laughter in the pillow. He had never heard Tifa swear nor threaten like that before and it was remarkably funny to witness it now. You learn a lot of things when you tend a bar, he thought.
Silence, sweet, beautiful silence, once more enfolded the house. This time, Cloud stayed awake even longer. He waited a full forty minutes before beginning the now arduous journey down into rest. This process had now become harder than before and took much, much longer.
He was teetering on the edge of sleep when a loud banging echoed through the building.
Tifa swore. Cloud swore too.
Tifa flew downstairs and Cloud caught a glimpse of her rushing past the bedroom door that was cracked open a little. Her feet pounded down the stairs. Keys jingled and metal rattled as she raised the metal shutters. Throughout all this, the pounding had kept going, nonstop.
The sight of whoever it was at the door made Tifa yell something he couldn’t make out. No doubt it was more reporters.
Anger stirred in Cloud. This was not an easy thing to do. Cloud did not consider himself as a particularly violent man prone to starting fights and quick to anger, though that had been the story of his childhood. These days it took quite a bit to make him what one would call angry. It took a hell of a lot to make him so angry he’d start dishing out the damage.
But now that feeling of anger touched him. He’d fought foes well beyond many, faced demons of both flesh and phantom, and there was always that gap in his memory of facing the last two Remnants and waking up in the church and whenever he thought of it, fear raced down his spine. And to top it off, he and his close friends were being harassed by the press.
This was going to stop.
Sitting up, Cloud flung back the covers, resolved to put an end to this. He’d been too tired to bother doing anymore than removing the shirt last night, and was still wearing his pants. Which is probably a good thing, too, he thought. It sounds like it’s getting violent down there.
Stuffing his feet into his boots, Cloud rushed downstairs, only pausing long enough to grab a serrated blade by the door that he’d been inspecting the night previous. Logic told him it would be very unwise for the press to see him with a sword in hand as this would make him seem violent and the press always warps things to be much more dramatic than they really are. Yet anger told Cloud that he didn’t really give a shit.
Downstairs, Tifa--clad only in a sleeveless tank top and rather short pajama shorts--was yelling at some man who held the door open. She was bathed in a blinding light that came from outside. The babble of many people beyond the door was also easy to hear.
Anger made Cloud not care what he looked like. Anger made Cloud step into the pool of light, gently pushing Tifa aside, anger made him not notice several photographers whose cameras were flashing madly at his approach, and anger made him give the reporter a look that could have cut steel. Then he slammed the door shut--which was glass and did little to keep the light or prying eyes out--he reached up, grabbed the metal shutter and brought it down in one swift movement.
The light was abruptly cut off, but the babble from the camps of reporters and news crews outside could still be heard.
Cloud turned around, saw Tifa’s face and anger fled leaving him holding the bag.
“What?”
She just stared at him with her mouth open in the most pure look of utter surprise he’d ever seen.
“What?” he repeated.
“What the hell are you doing?” she finally managed, ending her incredulous question with half a laugh.
Anger briefly came back. “Making sure the bastards leave us alone. Why?”
Her gaze dropped to somewhere just below his chin. Following her gaze, he realized he’d forgone putting on a shirt in his haste to get downstairs. Her gaze dropped further and towards his right. Once more following her stare, he realized he still held the sword. Memory of the look he’d given the reporter came back to him and his face got hot.
“Oh Shit.” He could think of nothing else to say.
Tifa laughed. Her face was also a bright red, but why he couldn’t say. She certainly couldn’t have suffered any embarrassment as he had.
“Oh well. They’ve got pictures now. And I’m sure they’ll stay away now. Maybe even stop calling.” Then she just gave him a smile that made him impossibly flush even more. There was something all too knowing about that kind of a smile… and when a woman smiled like that something was up.
“What’s going on?” said a small voice.
They both turned to the source of the voice standing at the top of the stairs. Denzel rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and squinted down at them.
“Nothing Denzzy,” said Tifa, climbing the stairs. “Just some very rude people that’s all. Don’t worry, Cloud’s taken care of them.”
Denzel’s face immediately brightened, and he resisted Tifa’s hands that had been guiding him back to his room.
“Did ya fight ‘em!”
Cloud snorted and Tifa laughed. “No. But that might’ve been a better alternative,” he growled.
“Come on, off to bed with you,” Tifa said, pushing Denzel further into the room. She flashed Cloud a smile as Cloud went by to his own room.
Gently laying the sword down where he’d snatched it up, Cloud flung himself on his bed in his usual way, face first into the pillows.
Down the hall, he heard Tifa put Denzel and Marlene back to bed and finally enter her own room. Then there was silence.
Even though he was tired and the phone no longer shrieked in his ear, he couldn’t get to sleep. Something about the silence seemed wrong. The reporters had given up far too easily, in his mind. Perhaps they’d been scared off after all.
Or maybe they got just what they wanted…
*
HERO OF EDGE SHOWS MORE THAN FACE TO CAMERA!
“Oh Shit,” said Cloud.
“Watch your language around the kids!” admonished Tifa. She giggled. “But you have to admit, it is rather dramatic.”
He glared at her and turned back to the morning newspaper. On the front, taking up half the paper length, was a photo of him, sword, glare, shirtless and all. If there was a hole in the ground, Cloud would’ve gladly jumped in it. No force on heaven or earth would be able to pry him out, either.
On the counter of the bar, Tifa’s cell phone buzzed loudly. All the phones in the building were off the hook, the only way to stop the flood of calls. Only their cell phones were still on.
Tifa snatched it up and put it to her ear. “Hello? I know, we’re looking at it right now!!”
Yuffie she mouthed to him. “Uh huh. Isn’t it just hilarious?” Tifa listened for a moment with a big grin on her face and suddenly burst out laughing. “She says she’s gonna tell Cid!”
“What? Give me that!” Cloud grabbed the phone from Tifa, ignoring her protests. “Yuffie, you are not, under any circumstances, to show this to Cid. Got it?”
“Oh, he’s gonna love it!” Yuffie squeaked. “Bye Cloud, gotta lot of calls to make!”
“No, don’t hang--damn.”
Tifa punched him in the shoulder, which he barely noticed.
“I said don’t swear in front of the kids!” she said, but her spirit wasn’t in the mocking tone. She was from grinning ear to ear.
“Don’t worry,” said Denzel as he gulped up his oatmeal. “I’ve heard a lot worse.”
“Me too,” Marlene chipped in.
As Tifa opened her mouth in astonishment and was about to deliver an admonishing speech, the phone on the counter rumbled once again.
This time Cloud picked it up before Tifa and grumbled “Hello?”
“Spiky!!”
“Oh sh--”
Punch on his arm.
Barret laughed heartily into the speaker. “Didja see the paper yet?”
“Unfortunately.”
This time Cloud winced and pulled the phone away from his ear as Barret bawled with laughter.
“Y-you look like some god damned m-male s-stripper!!”
Anger, the ever willing ally in times where it really shouldn’t be, came to him. “Shut the hell up, Barret this isn’t funny!”
Nothing but laughter answered him. A withering retort formed on Cloud’s lips just as Barret hung up, apparently helpless in throws of gut-busting laughter.
Cloud flipped the phone shut, silently cursing the waste of a good comeback.
“Would you like some more coffee?” Tifa asked cheerily.
He gazed down at his empty mug and considered asking for a beer instead. But he knew what she’d say and so he simply said “Yeah.”
He stared into the black swirling brew as Tifa put in sugar and stirred it up for him. He didn’t have the heart to lift it.
A hand ruffled his hair.
“Oh come on, this is big! Let them have a little fun,” Tifa said consolingly.
Cloud merely sighed and said over the top of the mug as he lifted it, “But do I have to be the butt of the joke?”
She just shrugged and smiled. Then she leaned forward, over the counter and said so only he could hear. “But you have to admit one thing…”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“It is a good picture,” she said with a wink.
Cloud felt his face get unbearably hot. Before he could think of something to say, she just slid away, still smiling, leaving him alone at the bar.
Cloud and Tifa dancing together is really sweet as well. It's Cloti done in a very tasteful way, so great job!
