Unexpected

Tifa's hands wrung subconsciously in her lap as she stared too intently out the window. The view was breathtaking, but she couldn't for the life of her concentrate. She'd never ridden the Love Boat ride before, and she certainly never thought that her first time would be with...well, with HIM.

She stole a quick glance in his general direction and found that he was also gazing out his window, a look of almost child-like glee on his face as he took in the scenery.

'What the hell is he so happy about?' she thought nervously. She'd waited in line for almost an hour to ride the damned thing, finally taking a little time to relax after months of worry and pain and fighting, and she hadn't even seen him in line. She hadn't seen him until he'd hurried onto her boat. She knew that she should have done something, shouted or fought like mad, but she couldn't. Not because she was scared, or because she wanted to be more tactful about it.

No, she didn't fight because she was really, really drunk. She cursed herself for the four hundredth time for letting that guy at the bar order her a fifth daquiri, and she clutched her stomach woozily as the boat jerked forward, beginning its ascent. She was about to jump right out, but thought twice. If she jumped out, she'd lose him, and they might never find him again. Also, she'd probably puke if she moved too quickly in any direction. A sudden giggle from the seat across from her made her shudder.

"What?" she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You don't look very good," he commented wryly, an evil grin spreading across his face. "Rather vulnerable, in fact."

"Don't fuck with me," she growled, trying desperately to look menacing in spite of the fact that she was certain she was turning green.

"Who's fucking whom?" he asked, a look of feigned innocence on his face. His eyes swept across her body slowly, greedily taking all of her in. All of a sudden, she felt just as vulnerable as he'd said she looked. This was the dumbest thing she'd ever let happen. She should have screamed. She should have fought. She should have run. Cloud would have understood if she'd run. Right?

Painfully aware of the uncertainty that painted her features, Tifa returned her gaze to the open window, leaning toward it slightly and hoping that the cool night breeze would help her sober up a little. Sephiroth's eyes did not leave her body. She could feel it. It was an approving look, and she struggled against her drunkenness, struggled against the desire to feel appreciated by his stares.

"Stop staring at me," she said, her voice softer than she would have liked.

"Why?" he asked immediately.

"Because it makes me very uncomfortable."

He threw his head back and laughed. She glared at him, trying to ignore the way his Adam's apple bounced in his throat as he let loose with gales of laughter.

"Why..." he began, speaking between gasps and chuckles. "Why on earth should I give a FUCK..." On that word, his voice became harsh and dark, and in a flash he was seated right next to her, holding her long hair in his strong grip, pulling her face towards his own. "...if you're comfortable or not?"

She gasped, a lump forming embarrassingly in her throat. This was really, really not good. He could easily do whatever he wanted to her. She was virtually powerless. Her stomach rolled, and she was suddenly very dangerously close to vomiting all over her captor. Apparently sensing this, he half-stood in the small boat and lifted her by the hair, throwing the upper half of her body out the window, allowing her legs to remain within. The sudden pressure of the window on her stomach was too much to handle, and she threw up profusely for several minutes, ignoring the places it landed below them. She thought about calling out, about screaming rape, anything to direct attention to where she was, but before she could act on anything, Sephiroth pulled her back inside and slammed her down on the bench.

"There," he said, his voice taking on an angry, sarcastic tone. "Does that make you feel less uncomfortable?"

Tifa said nothing, but tried to glare back at him in spite of her body, which trembled from the shock it had just received.

"Well?!" he shouted, his face very close to hers suddenly. She nodded a little, avoiding his gaze and feeling very exposed.

"Good," he said shortly, and returned to his spot across from her. "Enjoy the view," he said then, a grin reappearing on his face as he looked out the window once again.

For several minutes, she watched him. She waited for one moment, any moment when she thought she might have the upper hand, when she thought she could take him out, but that moment never came. Before she knew it, they had docked again, and an attendant opened the door for them. Sephiroth stood first and held out his hand to her, helping her to her feet graciously. She eyed him suspiciously, but accepted the help.

The attendant, apparently having seen the rocking of the gondola and the large quantities of vomit Tifa had ejected, gave Sephiroth a small glare, but quickly paled when Sephiroth glared back. He placed his hand on the small of Tifa's back (an action which caused a very undesired shiver up her spine), and guided her out onto the steady platform.

They walked like that for some time, heading in no particular direction that Tifa could discern. Even though she should have taken her opportunity to run, or to fight, she didn't. There would be a better time, a more appropriate action. Meanwhile, the thought still plagued her that if she ran, they would be unable to find him again. So she allowed him to guide her slowly through the clouds.

Soon she realized that he was leading her to a spot rather far away from the eyes of the other carnival-goers. She swallowed hard as he gently guided her around the corner of an empty ticket booth for a ride that was out of order. He removed his hand from her back and stood very still for a moment.

Her mind was abuzz with possible ways to gain the upper hand, but she felt she couldn't follow through on any of them. There was no way she'd be able to take him. He'd kill her before she landed one punch. 'Then again,' she thought grimly as she glanced around at the emptiness surrounding them, 'He might just kill me anyway.'

He very suddenly moved, and with the speed he'd exhibited in the gondola, he had her pinned between himself and the wall of the ticket booth. Tears welled in her eyes against her will, and she was very, very afraid.

"A-are you going to kill me?" she asked timidly as she tried to discern his possible intentions from his eyes. He glared at her, annoyance crossing his face.

"No," he said. "I'm not going to fucking kill you." He leaned closer to her, and she gasped, struggling only a little against his grip. His sudden closeness had a very different effect on her than she'd expected. 'God damn alcohol,' she cursed inwardly. Still, there was something, a smell, or a certain warmth. Some hormonal thing, she reasoned. Pheremones, or something. However, as he exhaled a sharp breath against the skin of her neck, she felt a rather unmistakable warmth in her lower abdomen. "I'm going to fuck with you," he said finally, whispering the words and causing tingles to run across her skin.

She lifted her hands to shove him away, but he grabbed them and pinned both her wrists against the wall with one hand. She tried so hard to grimace, to be disgusted, when he took the very tip of his long, snake-like tongue and ran a small trail along the side of her neck, ending at a spot below her ear. But in truth, it only magnified the desire she felt. She thought she'd be sick again, but his other hand came down to the small of her back again, and pulled her towards him, and she felt herself relax a little. Until she felt the apparent result of their proximity to each other. His hardness pressed against her belly, and she felt a jolt of something she wouldn't name.

His hand slowly slid up her back, beneath her shirt, as his tongue continued to trace small circles along her jaw line. She bit her lower lip, trying to fight back the moan that wanted to escape. He brought his hand around below her arm and slowly, so painfully slowly, across her breast. By the time it found her nipple, his tongue had made its way down to her shoulder, and at the exact moment that his finger tweaked it, his teeth came down upon her collarbone.

She couldn't hold it back now. She moaned and bucked her hips against him, and he immediately shot into action. Dropping her hands, he lifted her by the ass and slammed her against the wall. Unthinking, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and tilted her head to give him better access to her neck, which he took full advantage of.

He grinded against her slowly, and nibbled at her neck fervently, and she moaned and cried with every movement. 'Shit,' she thought to herself as she felt him grow ever harder against her. 'What the hell am I doing?' Her mind screamed at her body to stop, but after a few moments of this motion, her mind ultimately lost. Her body's natural necessities took over completely, and she found herself returning his grinding with great fervor.

She almost didn't realize what was happening until she heard a crumple of fabric. Looking down, she saw that his pants were now around his ankles. Again, her mind screamed in protest, but as his fingers slowly and menacingly grazed over the hot wetness beneath her skirt, again, her mind lost the battle. Instead, she let out a soft cry and began to move against his fingers. Without her realizing it, his sly hand had slid her panties aside, and she quite suddenly felt the tip of his hardness against her bare skin.

She gasped again and tried to press down upon it, but he stopped her, pressing her hard against the wall. Still barely feeling the tip of his erection tickling the soft hairs that surrounded her, she looked at him sharply, longing and disappointment in her eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly. His gaze was so intense, it almost frightened her.

"Beg," he said shortly.

'No!' the voice inside her head screamed. 'You stupid whore, no, no, NO!'

"Please," she whispered.

"What was that?" he asked gruffly, pressing her further into the wall and letting his erection push into her an inch.

She cried out, eyes closed in agony. "Please!" she shouted.

"...Please what?" he whispered into her ear, causing shockwaves of torment through her body. She struggled, trying so hard to get him inside her deeper. She hesitated no longer.

"Please, fuck me! Now! I want you inside me, please! Take me!" she screamed. Still he didn't make a move, and she was almost in tears.

"Why?" he asked simply, slowly beginning to withdraw, millimeter by millimeter, every moment torture for Tifa.

"Because I want you," she whimpered. "Because I want you to fuck me against this wall."

"Why?" he asked again, mere seconds from pulling out entirely.

"Because I need you!" she screamed. There was silence for a moment, and she opened her eyes to see an odd look of satisfaction on Sephiroth's cruel face. She was terrified, both that he would continue and that he wouldn't.

Then, without warning, he shoved himself into her, enveloping his entire member inside her. She cried out in relief, taking note of the small groan that escaped form his own throat. He pulled out a little, slowly, agonizingly, before slamming back into her. His speed increased gradually, and she cried out with every inward thrust.

Soon, he was hammering into her with a speed she didn't think was possible, and sweat was pouring down both their faces. She felt herself entering dangerous territory as her body swelled with the tell-tale signs of an impending orgasm.

"Oh, God," she whimpered. "I'm so fucking close. I'm so close, God, I'm going to come!"

He pulled her as far down onto him as she'd go, sheathing himself to the hilt and grinding upwards. There was no friction, but amazing pressure in just the right place. Tifa screamed over and over again as orgasm overtook her in waves. Somewhere toward the end of hers, she felt his begin. He gripped her tightly to him as he emptied himself into her.

The two stayed like that for several moments, panting into each other's ears. The last thing she saw was the glowing of a yellow stone before she drifted off into a very deep sleep.

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

When she awoke, it was nearly morning, and Sephiroth was nowhere to be found. Dazed from the sleep spell he'd used on her, she slowly made her way back to the hotel and slid into her bed. Aeris, who was sharing a room with her, still hadn't returned, and Tifa softly cried herself to sleep.