Learning to Live

Author's Notes: Man, is life ever rough. Sorry, so very sorry, for the astounding lack of updates, but Animanadie and I have had somewhat of a bumpy time. We've both been through two computer crashes at least, and had a deuce of a time scrambling to recover lost files.



But we've decided to at least attempt to pick up this story again, mainly because Vin/Tifa is quite the hawttest pairing in FF ever, and also because you guys demanded it. So, here 'tis. Enjoy.



PS. Not beta'ed, just html'ed. Forgive any errors. It's late and I'm on codine cold medicine. :) ~Sib.



***************************



Vincent:

Sundays are good. Vincent shook his head and chuckled as he waited. Once done with the shower, they’d separated to dress respectively. Clad in black jeans, boots and a dark red long sleeved shirt, long still-damp hair left free to dry on its own, Vincent leaned against the counter with bored nonchalance, arms crossed.



He was vaguely disappointed she didn’t wish to stay; he’d have relished napping the afternoon away with her comfortably lying against him. But he supposed she was right; there was work at the bar and Cloud would doubtless be arriving soon, if he hadn’t already. Neither phone had rung, so apparently she wasn’t yet missed. Retrieving his from his back pocket, Vincent checked it for mail messages and, thankfully finding none, returned it there.



Tifa:

Tifa sighed as she looked herself over in the bathroom mirror, now fully dressed and every part of her screaming for her to just go into the bedroom, lie down and call Vincent to her for a long, long sleep. The thought of falling to sleep nestled against him again warmed her heart more than her loins... those were now thoroughly sore. She couldn't help a wry smile as she mused to herself, leaving the bathroom. "Heading back home in last night's clothes..."



A giggle followed with the smallest blush at her and Vincent's new little 'secret'. Not that she was sure she'd keep it such yet, she really had no idea whether or not to tell anyone, but it felt like that, at least. She kind of liked fancying the thought that when the whole gang was together and she smiled at him, only he would gather its full meaning, and only he would know why her stare found him.



All but limping down the hall to find him leaning on the bar, damn him, only he could look so casual and smooth after such intense sex, Tifa waddled her way over to him and sighed. "I guess I'm ready." This is going to be a long, painful walk...



Vincent:

Vincent opened the front door, ushered Tifa into the hall, closed and locked it behind them, then bent and swept the aching woman into his arms, lifting her easily, one arm beneath her knees and the other comfortably cradling her back. He chuckled to her squawk and said only, “Don’t want you straining anything else, Tifa.”



Vincent strode down the hall, pausing at the elevator, positioning them so she could push the ‘down’ button. He kept her cradled as they rode down to the bottom floor, taking no notice of the other residents they happened to pass. Strolling through the lobby and down the stairs, he finally put her back on her feet as they reached the car, snatching a quick kiss and giving her a grin before opening her door.



Tifa:

Of all the things he could have done, Tifa had no idea why his kiss made her blush so girlishly, smiling as she sat in the passenger's side this time. Despite her earlier words, she hadn't honestly expected him to carry her all the way down, but the gesture was rather appreciated. She sighed as he cranked the car and pulled out, on their way back to the bar she could do without seeing for a few days. At least things aren't... cold, anymore, she thought.



Whether or not it ever happened again, and she was sort of hoping it would, Tifa felt better about parting with affection over awkwardness. That he'd kissed her outside, where others might see, struck her as very bold for the reclusive Mr. Valentine. After making the second turn, she found her hand wandering its way over to rest on his thigh, giving a gentle squeeze to well-worked muscles. Questions bugged her, but they would wait for a short while, at least.



Vincent:

Still made him flinch, the unexpected touch. But he didn’t run the car off the road, which was a good sign. Vincent didn’t look down, that would have been cliché. But crimson eyes flicked towards her for a moment, hidden behind the dark sunshades that shielded his eyes against the glaring sun. He very carefully kept both hands on the steering wheel, as to not do anything stupid.



But Seventh Heaven came into view all too quickly and Vincent pulled the sedan up to the front door, the shorter for Tifa to walk. Killing the engine, he got out and went around to the passenger door, all set to open it for her but she beat him to it, a facet that amused him. Competent woman, indeed. But Vincent was a gentleman, after all. Well, on most counts.



Waiting beside the door as she exited the car, he started to speak, but a noise within made him pause and black brows furrowed as quick heavy steps assailed his ears from inside the bar. A soft sigh. Wonderful.



Tifa:

Tifa had just managed to get about three steps from the car when the front door opened and Cloud stepped out, a small hint of confusion on his face. Through an act of willpower, Tifa managed to stand and walk normally towards the door, offering a small smile and keeping at least most of the blush from her face. "Hey Cloud." Stellar performance, Teef, she told herself. You're almost managing to look him square in the eyes most of the time.



Cloud paused, spoke a short greeting to her, then nodded to Vincent. "Been a while, Vincent."



His gaze turned back to Tifa, where his brow furrowed slightly. "So where've you been?" The briefest smirked touched his lips. "You look like hell..." Indeed, her hair was a mess, her eyes puffy from lack of sleep and her clothes were a bit askew, since she couldn't have bothered earlier to do anything beyond making sure they stayed on.



Brown eyes rolled, "Vincent had too much to drink last night, and I drove him home. I was kinda counting on someone picking me up, but Vincent let me crash at his place instead." She couldn't help the red in her cheeks as she said in as nonchalant a tone as possible. "Didn't get much sleep."



If Cloud noticed, he didn't let it show. "Oh," was all he said, glancing from Tifa to Vincent with an unreadable expression, then saying to the gunman.



"So Vincent, things are going well?" He turned and held the door open for Tifa to enter, stepped into the main area and held it open behind him for Vincent to catch.



Tifa felt her face flaming suddenly. Oh my gods, we are so obvious! He knows, I just bet he can tell. What should I say? Do I say anything? Would he even care?



Her mind ran a mile per second with these and so many other questions, all centered on the two men behind her as she went to the bar and made a pretense of making sure Alfonse had cleaned up properly.



Vincent:

Professional coldness, that had saved him in the past and availed him well now. Vincent’s expressionless face betrayed nothing whatsoever as the blond swordsman appeared in the door. He returned the nod coolly, not deigning to answer, as was his wont. Not really wanting to linger, Vincent hid the desire to just vanish from this place and was courtesy bound to follow them inside at Cloud’s silent invitation.



Closing the door behind them, Vincent removed the sunglasses and hung them from the first button of his shirt as the sensitive red lenses quickly adjusted to the dim interior. Following Cloud to the bar, he slipped atop a stool and answered quietly, “Things are going well, yes. Thank you.”



Figuring to engage in some conversation with a fellow companion, he nodded to the other man and asked, “And yourself? Tifa reports that Reeve keeps you pretty busy these days.”



He made no outward show of what had transpired earlier, although could tell by Tifa’s hurried tension that she was mortified about the entire situation. Praying she’d just keep calm and go about chores or whatever, Vincent remained stoic and quiet.



Tifa:

Cloud nodded to Vincent, "Yeah, things are good. With Reeve's help, the delivery business is doing well enough that I have to turn down some jobs. Sometimes the stuff he wants done for the WRO takes a few days' ride, but the pay is good enough." A small, wry smile from the blond, then, "I hear you're a favorite instructor of a lot of the recruits."



While the men talked, Tifa went upstairs and quickly changed clothes and combed her hair in a hurry. A glance in the mirror and she was mortified as her eyes took in so many tell-tale reddish bruises. Finally taking one of the small vials from her bathroom cabinet, Tifa downed the bitter potion and waited for the effects.



A moment later she could walk easier, and the marks had faded, albeit not entirely. She looked at her arms, the scabs where Vincent had clawed her in the throes of passion peeled, leaving tiny scars. She'd been careful to keep her arms behind her back earlier, or moving quickly enough that Cloud wouldn't catch the wounds.



"Breathe, Tifa," she told herself aloud. "You can handle this. It's not like Cloud has put any claims on you, so you didn't do anything wrong, and it's just not his business. Vincent is handing this well. So can you."



Done with her pep-talk in the mirror, Tifa returned downstairs, looking and feeling a little more at ease. If only she could keep from thinking about the long, long night before...



Vincent:

Vincent half-nodded in acquiescence. “An unintentional favorite, I’m sure. The deference Reeve gives has more to do with it than any skills of mine.” He glanced up as Tifa returned, sharp gaze missing nothing.



“But I must be going. I’m sure you have business to attend to,” he said, addressing both of them. With a polite nod to Cloud, he said, “Good to see you,” and hating every syllable.



To Tifa, “I appreciate the drive home, Tifa. I’ll be sure to may more attention next time.”



Turning around before he clenched his fists too hard, Vincent strode for the door, opened it and stepped into the bright sunlight, the door closing behind him with a soft click. Back in the car, he paused a moment before turning the key, wondering just why his soul hurt so much.



Choosing not to dwell on the emptiness of the seat beside him, he started the sedan and headed back across town, back to his memory filled home where remembrance dwelled.



Tifa:

A small amount of panic rose in Tifa as she saw Vincent stand and prepare to leave, the smile she'd been giving purely to him dimming quickly to cordiality. "It's alright, Vincent... I didn't mind."



She wanted to say something, anything, to make him stay longer, but stood in frozen silence as he left. She must have stared at the door a little too long, let her expression slip a little, for Cloud turned to her with concerned eyes.



"Tifa? Is everything ok?"



Brought back to present company, Tifa forced a small smile and looked into those blue eyes she'd fancied for so long. They still looked beautiful to her, but something within her had changed. The guilt over that made her think that there was something deeper than concern in Cloud's expression, something questioning, maybe hurt. She shook her head, near-black locks tossed in the motion and she looked him in the eyes and lied to his face for the first time in years.



"I'm fine. Just tired." She turned and walked tot he answering machine, ready to go through the messages and make any changes to his schedule for the day. "Since we're getting a late started, I'll see if I can reschedule Mr. Otto's pick up for Monday..." It was better to lose herself in something she could do, than to keep thinking on how strange it felt not to have red eyes watching her.



He left... without even... She scolded herself inside. He couldn't have said or done anything, Cloud was right there. Still... it felt so empty... Oblivious in her thoughts, Tifa missed the eyes that did watch her, silently wondering. A blond head shook a moment later as they went about work for the rest of the day.



Vincent:

Vincent’s phone rang before he made it home. Flipping open the device, he instantly heard Reeve Tuesti’s unmistakable voice. “Good morning, Vincent.” A slight hesitation. “I have a job for you.”



By the time he exited the elevator on his floor, Vincent had all the details he’d need for this ‘job’. Wonderful. And to think, he even drew overtime for this. But it was needful, what he did for Reeve under the table, so to speak.



Busying himself with paperwork and the like, complete with an uninterrupted four hour nap during the hottest part of the afternoon, Vincent rose and went to the closet, bypassing his ‘normal’ clothes and reached for a familiar outfit, the light shining on the myriad buckles that adorned the leather ensemble. The floor length vermillion cape was still soft but durable and infinitely tattered. A wry smile. He preferred it that way.



Once more clad in familiarity, Vincent Valentine strapped the massive hand canon to his right thigh, the Cerberus pendant twinkling against the black. His left hand clicked talons against each other as he walked to the balcony doors, brass shod boots making little noise on the thick carpet.



With grace enviable to the most exquisite feline alive, he flowed onto the railing, disdaining the menial ways of travel, and simply leapt, taking to rooftops to reach his destination. He had a mission. He was hunting.



Tifa:

The day passed in quiet routine, Cloud left to make his first pick-up and Tifa set about catching up on laundry, her second most hated chore. It didn't help that at least half their wardrobe was dry-clean only. After the first load went into the washer, Tifa made a trip to the cleaners. Then to the grocery store, then home, where she called in the orders for supplies needed in the bar.



A call to the girl who cooked the few food items served at Heaven to make sure she was going to be back at work today (she'd been on vacation for the last three), and then Tifa passed out in her desk chair for a few blessed hours.



Cloud's call woke her, and she muddled through giving him directions to his next stop before promptly losing consciousness once more. If I ever have sex again, she dimly remembered thinking, I'm going to make sure it's on my day off...





To be continued...