Learning to Live

Author's Note: I apologize for the lack of updates. Feel free to flog me as you wish. But the muses have been quiet, unfortunately. Nevertheless, I am getting off my lazy ass and coding more chapters for your enjoyment. Thanks greatly to all the readers who have left such wonderful comments and reveiws. You guys are manna from heaven, believe me.



More chapters to come, I promise! And sorry for the short chapter; there will be more to come!!



~Sib and Nadie




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Vincent:


Vincent's patented flat look just made the pilot chortle around a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. The gunslinger didn't even bother to retort, knowing it would do little good. Cid was what he was, after all. He hung back a bit as the others began scrounging into the pizza boxes; he cared little for the stuff and was quite content being ignored for the moment. His brain -and your libido as well, gunslinger, at least be honest with yourself, gods – was still wallowing in the memory of Tifa and the alley, still hearing her breathless gasps in his ears.



Why? Why had she done that? He honestly didn’t know.



And why with me, of all men on the Planet?



Because Cloud isn't. No, it can't be that simple.



At least, Vincent hoped it wasn't. He thought he knew Tifa well enough to know she wouldn't just use him as a substitute. Not Tifa. Vincent folded himself into a chair well out of the way, dark eyes on the floor as he pondered these thoughts.



Tifa:

Merry chatting resumed as most sat at the bar, save Vincent and Tifa who stood at the end. Though she smiled and kept up with conversation, her eyes kept flicking to the lonely figure in the corner, looking ever so broody. Without his cape and collar that hid his mouth, the "dark and angsty" look was somehow even more pronounced.



The conversation turned to picking on Cid, which everyone was more than happy to join in on, and as the pilot snarled his own defense Tifa grabbed a box of breadsticks and a glass of punch. Almost unnoticed amid the mirth of the rest, she left the bar and came to stand by her tall, quiet lover.



Wait, her mind registered. Does that really fit? If we had sex, doesn't that make us lovers? Considering how Vincent was, it was a valid question. She knew he wasn't in the market for a relationship, yet wasn't the type for one night stands. Or at least, she didn't think he was.



So what were they? Fuck-buddies? She pushed the question aside as he looked up at her, those deep red eyes making her briefly relive their more intimate stares.



"Breadstick?" she asked, offering the open box with marinara set inside. "They're pretty good…" Gods, this is awkward… but I can't seem to leave him alone.



Vincent:


He firmly shoved all dark thoughts to the back of his mind as Tifa approached, a bright smile on her face. Ah, mundane conversation. Thank all the gods.



"They do smell wonderful," he agreed quietly, taking one and breaking it in half before dipping the end in the thick red sauce. Hn, they actually were good. Offering her the other half, Vincent silently finished his, letting the other chatter fade to the background. Between one eyeblink and the next, an outrageous thought entered his mind and before he could rein in his damnable tongue, he found his mouth opening with the question.



"Tifa, do you think-" He suddenly snapped his mouth closed, shaking his head. "Never mind, it's not important."



Dark red eyes fell back to the floor and he was thankful for the long ragged hair that hid his face from her gaze. Because at the moment, his cheeks were flaming. Vincent resolutely cleared his throat and shoved those traitorous thoughts away before lifting his eyes again.



Tifa:

Pulling up a chair beside him, Tifa let her intrigue at his withdrawn question show on her face as she nibbled her half of the breadstick.



"Think what, Vincent? Go on…" His hair hid his face, but she swore to seeing color in his ears and creeping toward the bridge of his nose. She had to hold back a small grin; he looked so cute. But the question remained unanswered. What had he wanted to ask her? She dared not assume, so she carefully prodded again.



"You can ask me anything, Vincent." That smile turned shy as her dark brown eyes turned to the table. "You know that."



Vincent:


"I know, Tifa." He broke another breadstick and dipped it. "It was a quandary as to whether or not I should ask that's the problem."



Giving her a small smile, he shook his head a bit. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing." But the more he thought about, the better it sounded. Still, he had no right to make that request; today was her special day, she deserved to spend it surrounded by her dear friends.



But didn't she say that Sundays were good? He bit the inside of his lip. Gaia, but he was going to hell. He just knew it.



Tifa:

Why is it that people say 'it's nothing' and expect the other person to forget that they said anything? Tifa rolled her eyes slightly and leaned on her elbows, taking a sip of her punch. She let the glass thunk softly on the table before sliding it over to him.



"It's rude to bring something up and then drop it when you have my attention," she said quietly. Yet she still smiled and – with her back to her friends and therefore blocking their view of anything – wrapped her slender fingers around his left hand.



Vincent:


He couldn't help but smile to her chastisement. "So noted," he told her.



It surprised him a bit when she took his hand, but gently, carefully, his fingers laced with hers, a warmth Vincent discovered he'd missed. Since she wasn't about to let it drop, he first looked at the floor, then lifted his eyes to hers, one eyebrow arching slightly as he said, still unbelieving that these words were leaving his mouth, "I was going to ask you if you'd care to spend the night…with me," he added, just in case she didn't quite grasp the concept.



Soft heat flooded his neck and crept upwards as he went on, "But it's a bit out of line, I suppose. It's your birthday and all our friends are here to see you…" By all the Planet, had he just said that?



Tifa:

Dark eyes widened to revelation of what he was offering. The added clarification of "with me" was entirely unnecessary, but so endearing. Surprise wore off, leaving her blushing girlishly and looking down at their joined hands. How in the world had he come to have such an effect on her? You should have 'spent the night' years ago, Tifa, that naughty voice in her head declared.



"Actually" she said, failing to hide the lip-nibbling smile that threatened to split her face. "I don't know what my plans are. Yuffie wants to watch a movie tonight, Cid and Shera want to take me for a ride on their ship to show me all its new tricks, Barret and the kids wanted to go to the ice cream shop in the park… and I think Cloud was just going to go to bed because he has an early delivery tomorrow. So…" Tifa shrugged, fingertips massaging the back of his hand. "I was thinking of giving them all a rain check and saying I'm gonna go to bed early."



She leaned in with a devilish whisper. "I can meet you there."



Vincent:


As much of a thrill her answer sent through him, Vincent had to shake his head. "Tifa, don't forego spending time with your friends. They are far more important than I. As I said, I shouldn't have asked. I know you have many other things on your plate."



Glancing behind her, seeing the crowd still pilfering pizza, Vincent leaned up to meet her and took a swift kiss from her pursed lips. Leaning back just as swiftly, he gently disentangled their fingers, saying softly, "It's getting late. I really should be going."



Tifa:

And men have called me a tease… she thought, left wanting more than just the briefest brush of soft lips. An audible sigh deflated her, but Tifa was stubborn. She had to get something out of him.



"I'm not going to be able to be with everyone, anyway…" she tried, nibbling another breadstick and wishing she had a popsicle. You devious whore, her mind chided as it played over ways she imagined "convincing" him. When the look on his face told her he refused to budge, her shoulders slumped. I don't want to spend time with them tonight; I wanna spend it with you, damnit.



"Vincent, if you go now, are you going to wait another week to come back over?" She had a feeling that when removed from her presence, Vincent's prudish sense and unsociable ways would return to him.



Vincent:


Vincent gazed at his boots for a minute, then looked back at her, kicking himself again for ever broaching the question. Now her beautiful eyes were wide and liquid, her lower lip all but trembling with her pout.



Yes, gunslinger, you're going to roast in the special hell, aren't you?



Vincent mentally glowered at Chaos but to Tifa he answered, "We'll see. You and I both will be busy with work, Tifa."



Amazed he'd made even that small concession, Vincent added, "I'll do my best, all right?" A final meaningful squeeze to her hand and he once more wished her happy birthday and took his leave, bidding good night to the others.




To be continued...