Archive of Our Own

Tifa leaned on her elbows and smiled as she watched Cloud from behind the bar, dressed down to his boots in the usual black, making his best attempt at conversation with their friends. She knew by the way he stood, feet shifting, arms folding and unfolding, that he wasn’t completely at ease. Probably never would be, in social situations like this. But he was trying hard, and the knowledge warmed her heart.

Five years ago she had watched him grow from a cold outsider to a kind, unassuming leader. She had been so proud of him. When she’d been plagued by uncertainty, questioning everything she knew, his confidence and positive outlook had been a source of great comfort to her.

His words from that fateful day still inhabited her, echoing in her thoughts like the clang of a faraway bell.

What are we fighting for? I want us all to understand that.

He had told them to go and find their reason for saving the Planet, willing to face Sephiroth alone if none of them returned. And all the while, as he spoke in his soft, steady voice, a blend of his gruff SOLDIER tones and the truthful ring of his newfound peace with himself, Tifa had clung to the railing with wet palms and her heart quaking in her chest.

She couldn’t look at him. It was too much.

I know why I’m fighting… but besides that, there’s something personal… a very personal memory that I have.

She had stood and waited, trembling, as one by one, they had all left.

Every one of them but her.

The wind had blown them in, one by one, on this bleak winter day at the end of January, through a stone-dry cold that chapped their lips and numbed their fingers and toes. For a group once accustomed to long forays into the unknown, ordinary travel now seemed a curious inconvenience. Instead of the jumble of weapons and gear piled at the entrance of every hotel room they’d checked into on their journey across the Planet, coats and scarves adorned the row of hooks next to Seventh Heaven’s front doors.

Tifa smiled at the sight, but a part of her remained as cold as the winter outside those doors. Aside from her wedding—and that had nearly been a calamity in itself—this was the first time they’d all seen each other without having just saved the world. She hoped she’d given them a good enough reason.

The greetings were even more awkward than usual. A few stiff handshakes were exchanged among the men, but almost everyone had a hug for Tifa, during which Cloud managed to keep his customary glowering to a minimum. Yuffie’s smothering embrace was by far the most enthusiastic, with plenty more to go around. Even Nanaki set aside his dignity and allowed himself to be stroked like a domestic cat. And then, one by one, they all followed Cloud through the door at the back of the kitchen to soak in the comfort of the newly built fireplace, part of the recent addition to their living quarters.

Only Vincent lingered for a minute or two, while Tifa stayed behind to scoop a batch of homemade Wutaian egg rolls—a recipe Yuffie had recently given her, which she was anxious to sample as her mother had made them long ago—out of the frying pan. It didn’t surprise her at all to see him standing there, like a mute, immovable rock. He had always been impervious to any kind of weather.

She took in his straggling hair and the tattered edge of his red cape as he approached, thanking the stars for the fifth time today that the bar was closed. How in the world did he mingle with ordinary folk, dressed like that? The answer came to her in a flash of insight—he simply didn’t. She supposed it was all part of his self-imposed penance.

“I heard the news from Nanaki,” Vincent said in his rough monotone, sliding into a chair like a shadow across the wall. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Tifa gave him a warm smile. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thanks.” Black brows drawn, pale features immobile, he scanned her face for a startling length of time. And then, from the most unlikely pair of lips to grace the face of any man living on Gaia, it came.

“How are you feeling?”

Tifa willed her eyes not to float all the way to the top of her skull. She hadn’t thought Vincent, who polished every word like a rare gem, capable of The Question. That well-intentioned phrase had kicked off nearly all of her social encounters since last October, and she had come to dread it. But, she reminded herself, it could only mean one thing in his case—that he really and truly cared.

“Pretty good,” she replied cheerfully, turning the shiny golden rolls onto a tray lined with paper towels. “Thanks for asking.”

“Are you getting enough rest?” he pushed.

“Mmm hmm.”

“That’s good.” One brass-clawed hand curled restlessly on the counter. “How have you been sleeping?”

Tifa suppressed a frown at his uncharacteristic display of nerves. “Just fine.” This was going well beyond the stammering awkwardness that seemed to seize most of her male customers when confronted head-on with the visible evidence of her condition, men much younger than her normally unflappable friend. What was making him so uneasy about it?

“We’ve got this, Vinnie.” To her relief, Yuffie had bounced back into the kitchen. “Tifa, you go and sit down for a while,” she commanded, waving her arm toward a ring of chairs in the dining area. “I’ll do the rest.”

“Hold up,” said Cloud, hot on her heels. “What if she doesn’t want to sit down?”

“Cloud, she’ll work herself to the bone if you let her. You gotta grab hold of the reins sometime. Show her some tough love!”

“I’m her husband, remember?” he fired back. “I think I know a little more about that than you do.”

“Ooh.” The noise Yuffie made was somewhere between a giggle and a snort. “About what? Tough love?”

“Well… yeah.” Cloud let out a cough, and Tifa watched him go pink to his ears.

“I see.” Yuffie winked, observing him with glee. “Well, don’t be too tough on her tonight.”

His color progressed from pink to maroon. “Mind your own business.”

“But you’re so fun to tease!” She tossed her bobbed black head and pirouetted into the kitchen, laughing, arms flung outward, the tail of her striped headband flying in her wake.

Tifa shook her head, smiling to herself as the two continued to trail her around the kitchen, Yuffie barking out orders, Cloud muttering under his breath, while Vincent silently watched her like a hawk—or, more aptly, a raven.

“I’m feeling just fine, I promise,” she assured them all, trying not to sound annoyed. “Let me get this last batch of egg rolls ready to go, and I’ll rest for a bit. You guys can help me put out the rest of the food on those tables over there.” She pointed to a pair of long tables at the opposite end of the room. “Make it buffet-style.”

“You got it!” Yuffie picked up a tray of warm ham and cheese sliders. When Cloud reached for one, she swatted his hand away. He groaned and threw Tifa a plaintive look.

Steeling herself against what was threatening to develop into the infamous pouting puppy gaze, Tifa turned to grab a stack of paper plates from the counter. “Take these.” His lips parted as she pushed the stack into his unoccupied hands. “And these,” she added breathlessly, dumping a handful of plastic forks on top.

“Yes, ma’am.” His look was contrite, but the puppy eyes smoldered.

As he walked away, Tifa’s hand darted out and slapped his back pocket. He flashed a foolish grin over his shoulder. Her cheeks warmed, and the last few egg rolls looked a bit lopsided when she finally headed for the sink to wash her hands, wiping them hastily on her apron. She leaned back against the counter and fanned her scorching face.

How did he still manage to do it, after all these years? That look—those eyes, blue as a sunlit sea—that shot through her like a dart and left her hot and trembling and weak. Did he even know he was doing it? Even when they were kids, he could somehow slouch around the corner of a building with his hands thrust deep in his pockets and set her heart to racing without straining a muscle. It was so unfair.

After another minute of bumping into each other, Yuffie, with great ceremony, kicked Cloud out of the kitchen.

“Ah.” Tifa sighed, watching his unstudied swagger as he went to find a seat. “I think I’m ready to take a break now.” She turned sideways to squeeze past Yuffie, which was no mean feat given her current size, and made her way over to join him.

Cloud leaned back in his chair, stretched out his legs, and crossed his ankles, radiating waves of smugness. Tifa pulled up a chair next to him and leaned back as well; it was the only way she could sit comfortably these days. His thick arm, bare as always in spite of the cold, immediately snaked around her shoulders. Her knee settled against his thigh.

“You guys are too disgusting for words,” Yuffie said, fluttering her eyelids as she tipped the egg rolls into the frying pan.

Cloud grinned and ducked his head. Tifa giggled.

The remaining guests began to trickle back in through the kitchen. Marlene, her long dark braid topped with her favorite pink bow, clung to Barret’s enormous hand while she chatted with Cid and Shera. Denzel shuffled quietly behind her in an oversized hooded sweatshirt. At his side prowled Nanaki, his triangular nose pointed toward the food. Reeve, dressed casually for once in jeans and a forest-green cardigan sweater, observed them all from the doorway with his arms folded and a thoughtful expression on his bearded face.

“It’s a boy!” Marlene was telling Shera, her large brown eyes dancing. “And we decorated his room with Chocobos!”

“Chocobos driving fire trucks,” Denzel amended, disguising his excitement with a very Cloud-like smirk.

“Wanna come and see?” Marlene asked.

“I’d love to!” Shera leveled a mysterious look at her husband over the top of her glasses. Cid stood behind, watching as the three filed through the kitchen and disappeared through the door that led to the staircase. With a shrug, he piled a plate with chicken wings and sauntered over to where Cloud and Tifa sat.

“Tifa, you look great,” he said. “You’ve got the glow.” Then, grinning broadly, he gave Cloud a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Congrats, kid. Five years of not keepin’ it in your pants around this poor girl and we’re finally seein’ some fruit. Was wonderin’ when it was gonna happen.”

Cloud flushed red to the roots of his blond spikes, but he kept his composure. “Thanks.”

“Yep.” Cid plopped into a chair across from them as if he hadn’t just made the most inappropriate remark of the evening, maybe the whole year. “So, got a name picked out?”

“Not yet.”

“How ’bout a family name?” Cid turned to Tifa. “What was your dad’s name?”

“Brian… but that’s not really what we’re going for.” She glanced uneasily at Cloud.

“Yeah, I really don’t wanna name my kid after someone who hated my guts,” the father-to-be muttered darkly.

“He didn’t really hate you,” Tifa said, brushing a hand over his knee. “He just didn’t know you.”

“Yeah, well… all the same, we didn’t get along.”

Reeve and Barret took seats at an adjacent table, each of them carrying a loaded plate. Their eyes landed on Tifa, then on Cloud. The fatuous grin on Barret’s face was somewhat alarming.

“So, uh, Cid…” Cloud seemed to be casting around for something, anything to divert them from the irresistible and apparently inexhaustible topic of his long-awaited knocking-up of Tifa. “How many airships are in your fleet now?”

Cid rubbed a thumb across his stubbled chin, his blue eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Seven,” he said casually.

Cloud and Tifa stared.

“Wow,” Tifa breathed. “Seven airships in five years?”

“Yeah, seven.” Cid looked almost as if he didn’t believe it himself. “We fixed up the Shera after Deepground. Once we had the engine figured out and got all the parts lined up, it wasn’t too hard to duplicate.” He began to count on his fingers. “Highwind Two, Lady Luck, Bugenhagen, Flower Girl, White Rose, and Hero of the Dawn… that’s our new baby. She’s still undergoin’ safety testing.”

Tifa smiled down at Nanaki, who was stretched out at Barret’s feet. “I think I can guess who named a couple of those.”

“Grandpa loved riding on the old Highwind,” Nanaki reminded her. “It seemed fitting.”

“And the next two were mine, naturally,” said Yuffie. She had just handed a very full plate to Tifa, followed by a napkin, a handful of plastic cutlery, and a tall glass of water.

“With Shera’s approval,” added Nanaki.

“What can I say? She likes having me around.”

Tifa looked at Yuffie in amazement. “You work for Shera?”

“Oh, I help out in the office every once in a while,” she replied with exaggerated nonchalance. “Her filing system is a disaster. I don’t know how she manages without me.”

“I can’t imagine,” Nanaki said dryly.

“I know, right?” Yuffie either missed the sarcasm or ignored it completely. “Anyway, a few years ago I infiltrated the old Shinra building and stole some blueprints for her. That’s how she and Cid figured out how to build the new airship engines.”

Nanaki rolled his yellow eye ceilingward. “Infiltrated?”

“Well, not just anybody could do it! That job required certain specialized skills!”

Reeve was looking curiously at Cid. “Is this true?”

“Pretty much. We were all beatin’ our heads against the walls until Shera got the notion to borrow some elements from an older aircraft prototype. That’s how we finally got our engine runnin’ on jet fuel.”

“I had no idea.” A corner of Reeve’s mouth turned downward, but his eyes twinkled. “You could have just asked me. I have copies of all Shinra’s architectural and mechanical drawings.”

“I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Cait Sith would have been glad to assist.”

Cid raised an eyebrow. “I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I had to send the hyper ninja kid somewhere before she drove us out of our goddamn minds.” He looked straight at Yuffie and bared one side of his teeth in a rakish grin.

“Gee, thanks, old man.” Yuffie stuck out the tip of her tongue. “Can I get you anything else, Tifa?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks!”

Cloud, who had been eyeing Tifa’s food all this time, shot Yuffie a reproachful look. She smirked at him and trotted back to the kitchen without another word. He sighed in resignation, then turned once more to Cid.

“You guys have been busy.”

“So have you.” Cid winked at him.

Cloud let that one pass. “What was the name of that last airship again? Hero… something?”

“Hero of the Dawn?”

“Yeah.” Almost absently, he helped himself to an egg roll from Tifa’s plate. “What does that mean?”

Cid wheezed out a self-deprecating laugh. “Nothing, really. It’s a line from LOVELESS. Never got much into porin’ over the meaning of any of that shit, back when it was all the rage. Just liked the sound of it.”

“Oh.” Cloud finished chewing. “Gonna build any more?”

“Don’t know that the world needs any more, unless this man and his budget say otherwise.” Cid jerked his head toward Reeve. “But they can sure come in handy.”

“They most certainly can,” Reeve said expansively. “I can’t thank you enough for your generosity in transporting all those sick people to Midgar.”

Cid shrugged. “It was Barret’s idea from the start. Had to get Shera into that water anyway... wish we could’ve done more.”

“There’s no way you guys could have helped everyone,” said Tifa, as much for her own benefit as theirs. “Even if they wanted to come… was it even possible?”

“Hell, no.” Barret’s silver fist struck the table with a dull sound. “Not with the fuel situation bein’ what it was, back then. Took all the resources we had just for that one flight.” His tender dark eyes held a gleam of regret.

“Glad that’s not the case anymore, thanks to you,” Cloud told him. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if those costs hadn’t come down.”

Tifa hummed her agreement. “None of us would.”

Barret cracked a bashful smile. “It’s been a learning experience for me, workin’ with energy,” he admitted. “I studied planetology for years, but I ain’t no scientist. I didn’t know the first thing about findin’ oil. So we hired a geologist, another ex-Shinra. She used to be involved in findin’ Mako reactor sites. We drove around, made some maps, built some rigs and started drillin’. We’ve got two more producing wells now—one out west of Nibelheim and another one outside Corel.”

Tifa was surprised. “Corel?”

“Yeah.” Barret chuckled without mirth. “That one gave us some trouble. Folks were bein’ stubborn like always, wantin’ to hold on to their coal minin’. I mean, I get it, did it for years myself. We had to sit ’em all down and show ’em the studies on efficiency, emissions, the effects on their health. They weren’t too inclined to listen to me, but they eventually gave in. That was about... two years ago.” He heaved a blustery sigh. “What’s ironic is... we’re comin’ to realize that oil ain’t much cleaner than coal. The business of refinin’ it, especially. We’re doin’ our best to minimize the pollution, but it’s takin’ a toll on the wildlife… things dyin’ all around, just when we thought it was all comin’ back.”

Nanaki raised his scarlet head solemnly. “Makes one wonder if we saved the planet from one type of human activity, only to destroy it with another.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Barret agreed. “But like Shera once said, this planet’s got a lot to offer. We just gotta find a better way... somehow.” He patted Nanaki’s side, then turned to Cloud with a speculative look. “So what’s this I hear about you joinin’ forces with the Turks?”

Cloud and Tifa glanced at each other.

“How’d you find out about that?” Cloud’s blond brows were pulled low. “I thought it was supposed to be top secret.”

“Sounds like it ain’t, if Reno told me you were for hire.”

“What?” His eyes became slits. “Where’d you run into that asshole?”

“At the old Corel reactor. Shinra’s finally tearin’ it down, and they agreed to give us some of the material for our new facility at the rig. We talked about old times.”

Cloud huffed loudly. “Fine,” he relented. “There’s not much more to tell, though. I helped them break up a crime ring in the slums. They wanted a little extra muscle.”

Barret grinned. “And extra metal too, I bet.”

“Didn’t hurt... well, not us, anyway.”

“Heh. Kinda like a SOLDIER operation, huh?”

“Kind of.” Cloud smirked. “Mercenary work pays better, though.”

“That a fact? How d’ya figure?”

“Tseng balked at my pricing. Pissed me off when I found out how little they paid Zack for all the shit he had to deal with. So I thought I’d let Rufus make up the difference… to honor his memory, of course. Worked out pretty well for all of us.”

While they were talking, Vincent rose and approached the group. His cape fluttered and stirred the air as he sank gracefully into the seat at Tifa’s other side. This was an unusual move for him; he normally stood aloof whenever they gathered.

Cloud acknowledged him with a brief nod, then went to the food table to get his own plate and replace what he’d eaten off Tifa’s. He was always considerate about this, but tonight she really felt like she was eating for two. She devoured her second egg roll with relish. They were every bit as good as her mother’s. She’d have to tell Yuffie later.

“I’m glad to hear your pregnancy is going well,” Vincent said to her. “How much time do you have left?”

“About eleven weeks, give or take.” Tifa wiped her fingers on the napkin in her lap, praying it wouldn’t slide off again; the floor wasn’t quite as accessible as it used to be. “I’m due in early April.”

His earnest gaze suddenly faltered, as if he were afraid to look at her. “That’s good.” And then he sat in corpselike silence, unmoving, listening to Cid, Barret, and Reeve talk about the economy. After a full minute, Tifa decided it was time she got to the bottom of this.

“What’s this about, Vincent?” she asked him gently. “You’ve been acting strange tonight. Is there something you want to tell me?”

She waited as he stared over her head for another moment, deep in thought.

“I suppose there’s no danger now,” he finally said.

“Danger?” Tifa repeated, baffled.

“Only the danger of causing you needless alarm. That danger has clearly passed. If it were going to happen, it would’ve happened already.”

She frowned. “What did you think would happen?”

Vincent drew in a shaky breath, his face paper-white between bands of crimson. “Lucrecia... when she carried Sephiroth... she experienced unusual visions. Terrifying visions... of future events.” He forced out the words, harsh yet somehow lifeless, as if each one caused him indescribable pain. “They nearly drove her mad.”

As he spoke, Tifa found she had clasped her hands together in her lap to stay their trembling. She’d never considered this, and she was glad she hadn’t known before now.

“How awful—I’m so sorry,” she managed, hoping her hasty condolence wouldn’t offend him. “But… why?”

“Jenova cells,” Cloud answered as he returned to his seat, balancing a brimming plate on his knees.

“Right.” Vincent gave a weak nod. “And I was afraid... because of what Hojo did to you, there was a chance...” He bowed his head.

“If it’s any comfort to you, I haven’t had visions since I had Geostigma,” Cloud told him. “And before that, I stopped having them after Tifa and I fell into the Lifestream.”

“Because he’s gone,” said Tifa. “Right?”

Cloud nodded silently, slipping an arm about her shoulders.

“And… the nightmares...” Vincent broke off again.

“We still have ’em, sometimes,” said Cloud. “I don’t think they’re going away, not anytime soon. But Tifa’s not in any danger that I know of. If she were, you can bet I’d be out breaking heads.”

“It’s over, Vincent,” Tifa said softly. “It really is.” She placed a reassuring hand on his wrist, and though she doubted he really believed her, he didn’t recoil from the contact. “Tell me about Shelke. Have you been in touch with her lately?”

“Yeah. Saw her over the holidays. She’s living in Kalm with Elmyra and her family.” A faint smile touched his pale lips. “She prefers the small-town life, and Elmyra likes having someone around to spoil.”

Tifa smiled warmly. “Seems like a good fit for both of them.”

“I thought so, too. She works at a coffee shop, and she’s been taking classes at the community college. Some branch of robotics, I believe. And art—Elmyra’s walls are covered with her paintings.”

“That’s surprising.” Cloud sipped a glass of lemonade. “Is she any good?”

“You could say that... but her style is a bit unconventional. Very abstract. Don’t ask her what any of her paintings are about, or she’ll talk your ear off for an hour.” A suspicious lightness in his tone told Tifa it hadn’t bothered him that much.

“Hey, you guys!” Yuffie hollered from the kitchen. Though her hands were spread invitingly over the counter, the effect was made comical as she arched her shoulders and kicked up her heels. “The bar is officially open! I’m taking drink orders!”

Cloud turned to Tifa with a look of mild panic. “You okay with this?”

“Sure.”

“Now just a damn minute.” Barret shared a wary glance with Cid. “You mean we came all the way to Seventh Heaven to not have drinks made by Tifa?”

“Hey! I know what I’m doing!” Yuffie protested. “I worked the bar for a whole week over the holidays! I can pour and stir and shake up anything your heart desires—I’m practically a professional bartender!”

“More like amateur kitchen helper,” Cloud muttered under his breath.

“Be nice,” Tifa scolded, as Yuffie rattled off her many qualifications. “She’s not bad, actually.”

“She put ketchup in my Cosmo Canyon.”

“Oh, Cloud… that was a year ago.”

“I remember like it was yesterday.”

“Why were you working the bar over the holidays?” Vincent asked Yuffie, his raised eyebrows nearly touching the top of his bandana.

“I was helping Tifa, of course! Cloud had to go out of town, and he asked me and Nanaki to come.”

“To keep her company,” Cloud stressed with a look of mild amusement. “Not to take over the whole damn bar.”

“Well, I went above and beyond, as always! She didn’t have to worry about a thing! Right, Tifa?”

Tifa squirmed in her chair, painfully aware of the very large reason for all the attention. “Well... I got a lot of rest,” she said meekly.

“She’s looking well,” Vincent approved.

“Very well,” Cid added, with great enthusiasm.

“Beauty rest!” Yuffie crowed. “It works wonders! What do you think, Mr. Strife? Doesn’t she look ravishing?” The look she sent Cloud was downright fiendish.

Tifa’s cheeks flamed. She caught Cloud’s gaze and saw that he was just as red as she was. He cleared his throat. A faint smile, shy and hesitant but not unwilling, crept slowly across his face.

“Yeah,” he said simply, his blue eyes tethered to hers. “She does.” His adorable smile widened.

The feeling took Tifa completely by surprise. How could this be real? The time… where had it gone? They sat facing each other in this familiar room with the hodgepodge furnishings and hiccuping tube lights, their home for the past five years, surrounded by their closest friends… and yet at the same time it was a place she’d never seen before, a vibrant, shimmering oasis where nobody existed but the two of them. She smiled back at him, no longer even hearing the ripple of laughter all around them. She thought she might explode from sheer happiness.

“Aww, don’t be gettin’ all embarrassed now.” Barret’s eyes were soft. “We just love teasin’ ya.”

Tifa allowed herself to laugh, though unexpected tears were welling up, too. Pregnancy hormones? With all these random waves of emotion assaulting her at every turn, she didn’t need Jenova’s help in going over the deep end.

“It’s okay,” she managed, touching her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. “If I had to pick something to be teased about, I guess it would have to be this guy.” She directed a sultry smile at Cloud through lowered lashes, biting back a giggle. Making him blush was even more fun than it had been five years ago, and the fact that she could still do it—well, that was more than a little exciting.

She jumped, and her hand flew to her abdomen as the baby did a little tumble inside her. A series of tiny undulations rolled under her shirt.

“Is he kicking?” Cloud asked in hushed fascination, noticing her movement.

“He’s definitely happy about something.” Tifa chuckled. “Guess he approves of us flirting, huh?”

“Guess so,” he whispered. “It’s sort of how he got here.”

Tifa lightly patted his knee, then snatched a slider off his plate and took a bite. “Yup.”

As Yuffie proceeded to serve drinks without significant mishap, the kids and Shera returned from their tour of the upstairs and immediately helped themselves to heaping platefuls of Tifa’s cooking. Marlene clambered unabashedly into Barret’s lap. She was all of nine years old and her military-style boots swung inches from the floor, but he still dwarfed her. Denzel, meanwhile, had scooted into a chair on the other side of Cloud and was leaning toward him, whispering something. Tifa smiled at the sight of their two heads together, the tousled brown mop next to the blond spikes.

Vincent had drifted back to his former spot at the bar without being noticed, and Yuffie rather loudly insisted on mixing him a cocktail. Shera glanced at Cid and Reeve, who were deep in conversation, and took the empty chair next to Tifa. She wore a gray turtleneck and dark wide-leg jeans over a pair of suede ankle boots.

“You’ve done a beautiful job with the nursery,” she said, in her soft, gentle voice. Since their first meeting in Rocket Town, Tifa had admired Shera’s calm self-assurance. She had always been wholeheartedly devoted to her work and the people she cared about, never wavering even when it was to her own detriment.

“Thanks,” Tifa replied, “but I can’t take credit for all of it. Cloud and Denzel did the painting and the kids both helped me decorate.”

“I see.” Shera smiled. “They must be so excited.”

“They really are. I actually think Marlene’s read more baby books than I have. This morning she told me the baby’s the size of a cabbage and he’s starting to grow fingernails.” Tifa patted her bump fondly. “And Denzel… he took a while to come around, but he seems to be warming up to the idea of a little brother.”

“And Cloud?” Shera’s eyes twinkled behind her glasses.

“Oh, he’s taking it well… for the most part. Sometimes I still catch him wandering around the house in a state of shock.” Tifa chuckled. “But deep down I know he’s thrilled. He just worries too much.”

Shera leaned closer. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything’s going fine. We had a little scare in the beginning, but it all cleared up by the second trimester. It’s just…” Tifa folded her greasy napkin in half, then into fourths. “He’s afraid he’ll screw something up, as usual. That he won’t be a good father.”

“But isn’t he already? What I mean is… he has some experience with the other two, doesn’t he?”

“Of course he does. He doesn’t give himself enough credit. But… a newborn is different.”

Shera fingered the silver rocket-shaped pendant she wore on a long chain around her neck, the one Tifa vaguely remembered had been a wedding gift from Cid. “It’s kind of intimidating, isn’t it?” she said. “To think of bringing a child into this broken world we live in.”

“We talk about that sometimes,” said Tifa, with the familiar cold clench in her stomach that never fully left her. “I’ve made so many mistakes; I wish I could just erase it all and start over. Cloud feels the same way. But… the world isn’t really that much worse off than it was twenty, thirty years ago, is it? Maybe it’s better, in some ways.”

“Maybe. Either way, you’ve got your hands full.”

Tifa shrugged one shoulder. “Motherhood kind of ambushed me, but I don’t regret it.”

“I’m happy for you.” Shera’s tight-lipped smile, however, seemed forced. Tifa knew this might be a sensitive topic but she couldn’t help herself.

“Uh… if you don’t mind me asking, have you and Cid thought about starting a family?”

Shera glanced toward the other table, where Cid and Reeve were still having a discussion. “Oh, we’ve talked about it.”

“Oh.” Tifa didn’t know what to say.

“I’m turning forty this year,” Shera went on, “and he’ll be thirty-eight next month. We’ve both been busy designing and building equipment for all the oil fields and refineries so we can keep up with the demand for fuel. It’s not that I don’t enjoy my work, but it’s not slowing down and I don’t have the same energy I used to. I just don’t see how…”

She lifted a feeble hand and let it drop. After a moment, Tifa covered it with one of her own.

“It’s all right.” Shera gave an airy little laugh. “No point in brooding over it. We’re probably too old to have kids, anyway.”

Tifa opened her mouth, but checked herself. Was she in any position to offer comfort, when she and Cloud were still in their prime and everything seemed to come so easily?

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “I met a lady at my doctor’s office who’s due around the same time I am, and she’s over forty. And it’s her second baby in two years. Sure, there’s always gonna be something that could go wrong, but… don’t give up hope, okay?”

“Oh, crap!”

Yuffie’s shout pierced the room. Tifa and Shera looked around just in time to see a blur of red and black as Vincent somersaulted backward through the air, one arm outstretched. He landed neatly on his feet with something clutched in his hand. A chorus of exclamations circled the bar.

“Holy shit!” Cid’s voice rang out over all the others.

“Nice catch!”

“Whoa!”

Two spots of crimson were blazing on Yuffie’s cheeks. “Thanks,” she muttered as Vincent silently handed the object back to her.

“You’re welcome.” His voice was as dry and devoid of humor as always. “Of course, I knew you fully intended to throw it halfway across the room, so I was prepared.”

Yuffie thrust out her chest, eyes sparkling. “That’s right! And now, for the grand finale!” She raised the cocktail shaker and began once more to twirl around.

Shera caught Tifa’s eye with that same mysterious smile, then got up and slid into the empty chair next to Cid. She leaned over to murmur something into his ear, and his weathered forehead rumpled as though he were trying to work out a complex engineering equation. Tifa couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with babies.

“When is Cait Sith gonna be here?” Marlene was asking, her eyes clapped on Reeve.

“Oh, maybe another hour,” he replied, looking at his watch. “I needed him to wrap up some things at the office so I could leave early.”

“He works at your office?” Denzel was incredulous. “What’s he do, make goofy PA announcements or something?”

Reeve laughed. “I suppose he’d be best suited to that, but not after business hours. He’s typing up some presentation notes for me.”

“He can type?”

“Of course. He’s quite dextrous.”

“Don’t you have a secretary for that kind of stuff?”

“She wasn’t interested in working overtime this weekend.”

Tifa watched these two with interest. Reeve had been slow to include himself in their group outside of the times they’d had to come together to deal with disasters of world-ending proportions. Then, about a year ago, he and Denzel had struck up an unlikely friendship after an interview in Johnny’s diner, during which they had found out it was Reeve’s mother who had cared for Denzel after he lost his parents, giving her life to shield him from the deadly surge of Lifestream.

Given his history as a former Shinra executive and a spy, not to mention his current status as leader of the world’s transitional government, Tifa could see why he might feel like he didn’t fit in. On the other hand, she had come to know him as a kind and compassionate person, one who judged himself more harshly than anyone. Perhaps, like she had once done, he tried to carry burdens that were never his to bear alone. Perhaps it had become too much.

By now, everyone had started to loosen up. Conversations were louder and peppered with bursts of laughter. Denzel had exhumed Cloud’s chess set from the depths of the hall closet and started a game with Nanaki, who had to issue marching orders to Marlene after he knocked over half his pawns with his nose. Vincent perched vulture-like on his stool, took small sips of his cocktail, and listened politely to Yuffie’s top seven reasons why ninjas made good bartenders. Meanwhile, Cloud resumed his seat next to Tifa with a beer in one hand—apparently he thought that was a safe choice—and passed her a glass of sparkling grape juice.

After a while Barret stood, Marlene riding in the crook of his arm as if she were still four years old. She could have reached up and slapped the low ceiling.

“Everybody listen up!” he bellowed.

The noise gradually died down. Shera nudged Cid out of a colorful anecdote, and Yuffie finally stopped her ranting at a severe look from Vincent. They all fixed their eyes on Barret.

“So, uh—we’re all here tonight ’cause Tifa wanted to bring us together,” Barret began, in his booming, rally-the-troops voice. “It’s been five years since we all met. We all came from different places and different walks in life, some of us with different aims, but we came together with a common goal in the end—to take down Shinra and save the planet.”

Silence reigned, except for a few hums and nods and a muffled belch that might have come from Cid. Tifa hadn’t really intended for Barret to give a speech, but as she couldn’t think of anything else to say at the moment, she just let him run with it. Just like old times, she thought ruefully.

“As y’all know, I was the leader of a cell in AVALANCHE,” Barret went on, “and I had my own ideas about what it was gonna take to save the planet. But my ideas ended up destroyin’ a lot of innocent lives. I’ve been tryin’ to atone for that ever since. Still don’t feel like I deserve to be alive, or be a dad to this beautiful angel right here. But I’m tryin’.”

He set Marlene down gently, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I always thought of myself as a great leader, the kind who inspires people. Before I came to Midgar, I used to be a mine foreman. I knew how to give orders and get things done, and I took care of the ones who were under me, made sure all their needs were met. I sure talked a good game.” He bowed his head. “But later on… I realized I was nothin’ but a loudmouthed coward. Used ’em for my revenge. Made ’em all do my dirty work for me…” His left hand curled into a fist and shook at his side.

“Barret,” Tifa said gently.

They all waited for him to regain control.

“Anyway… I thought I knew what I was doin’ when we started bombin’ reactors. And even when that all went to shit, I was ready to charge on ahead with the new team I ended up with, leadin’ them on a journey into the unknown.” A sudden spark of mischief crinkled his eyes. “But then this little punk decided he wanted to be serious—” he aimed a metallic finger at Cloud— “and the girls seemed to like him better, so he got to be leader.”

Cloud snorted. “Ha, ha.”

“Turns out he did a fairly decent job, though. Who’da thought?”

“Until I committed the ultimate screw-up.” Cloud’s shoulders drooped as he muttered the words. Tifa silently squeezed his upper arm.

“Time to move on from that, kid,” Cid said bluntly.

“Well, you did do some dumb shit,” said Barret, as if by now it were a well-established fact, “but you also had some crazy shit goin’ on inside your head that none of us could imagine. And in spite of all that, you kept us all going somehow. You trusted us even when you shouldn’t have, believed in us. All of us. I respect that.”

Cloud grimaced. “Thanks… I think.”

Tifa stole a glance at Reeve, who wore a strained smile.

“And let’s not forget,” Barret went on. “Tifa led us for a while, too.”

“Not for long, though.” Tifa looked at the floor, dodging all the gazes that had landed on her. She had never regretted the choice she’d made, but thinking about it was still painful. “From what I heard, Cid took over from there.”

Cid laughed hoarsely. “They just picked me ’cause I had an airship.”

“And that was only because you led a successful mutiny,” Nanaki stated. “The crew told us all about it.”

“Yeah, you did awright with the leader stuff,” said Barret. “I gotta admit though, I about shit myself when you said you didn’t know how to control that goddamn train!”

“What the hell? I stopped it, didn’t I?”

“He did say to hold onto your drawers, remember?” said Nanaki. “You must have been the one he had in mind.”

“Damn right!” Cid leaned back in his chair as Barret sat back down, grumbling. “And I got us through that battle at Fort Condor before we got Cloud and Tifa back.”

“And then you took control of the rocket when we went into space,” Tifa reminded him. “That was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Well…” Cid shrugged, and his tone turned regretful, almost wistful. “Funny what can happen the moment you think you’ve finally found your dream… Anyway, Shera was the real hero that day.”

“Yup!” Barret chuckled. “Takin’ care of her man!”

“It was nothing compared to what Tifa did for Cloud,” said Shera, looking very flushed in the face as Cid’s arm crept around her.

Tifa exchanged a glance with Cloud and saw her own discomfort mirrored there. “Please, let’s not talk about that,” she begged.

“Oh, but look at you guys now!” Yuffie clutched her glass to her chest, her eyes misty. “It was a miracle.”

“It was an accident,” Tifa insisted, trying not to cringe. “I didn’t do anything special.”

“Tifa.” Cloud’s voice was soft but stern.

“Are you kidding?” said Barret. “You put his whole damn messed-up head back together!”

“I told you, he did it all on his own. All I did was—”

“Tifa, if you hadn’t been with me,” Cloud cut in fiercely, “I’d have stayed a vegetable for the rest of my life. And if I fell into the Lifestream without you that day, there’s no way in hell I would’ve come out again.”

A stark silence fell over the room.

“Spikey boy’s talkin’ some sense,” said Barret. A few others murmured in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Cloud.” Tifa laid a hand on his arm again. “You know how much that means to me. But at the time I felt so… hopeless. I couldn’t get a grip on myself. I wasn’t the pillar of strength everyone seems to think I was.”

“Your strength was there all along,” said Vincent from his stool. “What you call an accident was just an opportunity to let it shine through.”

“Like I told ya before, you’re a real strong woman, Tifa,” Barret told her firmly. “Stronger than any of us.”

Blushing, Tifa looked down at her naked wrist and thought of her training years ago, the leather bracelet that had strained with her efforts to tame raging emotions until it finally broke. She had come to know her own strength in new ways over the past few years, facing challenges she’d never known before. Things she couldn’t fight with her fists. But it hadn’t always been like this. She fought a startling urge to laugh.

“It’s so weird to hear you say that,” she found herself saying.

“Why?” Barret asked.

“Because… back then, I used to feel like all my strength came from…” She bit her lip. “Cloud.”

Cloud turned to her in shock. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Don’t you remember?”

“When did you say that?”

“I don’t know if I used those exact words, but I know I told you about it. I was so nervous.”

“When was this?”

“The day before the battle. After everyone left the airship. We were outside talking, wondering if they’d come back, and…” She trailed off as the blood rushed to her cheeks.

Cid cleared his throat—very loudly.

“And we did,” Nanaki finished for her. “And not a moment too soon, apparently.”

Cloud groaned and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “My gratitude was overflowing.” Then a look of horror crossed his face. “I mean…”

He turned bright red as Yuffie fell across the bar with a shriek of laughter. Cid let out a guffaw. Nanaki’s snort blew half the chessmen away, and Barret howled, pounding the table.

“Oh, god,” Tifa moaned into her hands. She hoped Marlene wouldn’t be asking her questions later.

“Were you really so surprised?” Trust Vincent to bring the subject back around as if he hadn’t just watched her melt into a puddle of mortification.

“Maybe a little,” Cloud admitted. “I guess I shouldn’t have been.”

“You all came back,” said Tifa. “Every one of you, regardless of how big or significant, you found your reason. And we won.”

Calmly, though his face was still glowing like a Fire Materia, Cloud stood up and laid his empty plate on the chair. He straightened his posture, his lean, muscled arms loose at his sides.

“Listen, guys,” he said, in that solemn yet boyishly confident tone Tifa had always admired. “We’re not here to celebrate any particular day, or anything that happened on that particular day. I’m sure we’d all rather forget it.” His hand went up to the back of his neck, and his brow furrowed slightly as he chose his words. “But it’s been five years since we all came together to beat Sephiroth and save the planet. Nobody else is gonna celebrate this. Nobody even knows what really happened, except maybe Rufus and the Turks, and like hell they’re gonna throw us a party. Tifa and I figured it was about time we had one. We haven’t all been together like this since Deepground—and before that, when we dealt with the remnants.”

“I seem to remember being here after a certain wedding,” said Nanaki. “But then again, I may have been the only one sober enough to remember.”

Cloud raised his eyebrows. “As I recall, Tifa and I sort of had somewhere to be. Somewhere tropical. Dunno what you guys did with yourselves all night after we left, but thanks for cleaning up.”

Yuffie cackled out loud. Barret and Cid looked rather sheepish.

“Anyway… what do you think?” said Cloud, gripping the back of Denzel’s chair as he looked around at all of them. “Do we have reason to celebrate tonight? Is the world really a better place? Was it all worth it?”

“I got to see Marlene again,” said Barret. “All that other shit I had to cope with afterward, that pales in comparison.”

“We just did what had to be done,” said Cid.

“And we did everything we could,” Reeve added, his voice heavy. “It would have been far worse if we’d done nothing.”

“Yeah,” said Yuffie. “We had no choice but to step in! No matter what the danger, the Planet can always count on us to save the day! Right, Vinnie?” She poked Vincent in the chest, and he let out a noncommittal grunt.

“Well, it was worth it for me,” said Cloud. “Even if I don’t deserve a single thing I’ve got. Tifa and these kids, they’re my life.” Denzel pretended to dodge away in embarrassment as Cloud reached down to ruffle his hair. “And now our family is growing.” He turned to Tifa with a look of such blatant adoration that she thought her heart would soar off to the stars. “We’re so thankful for the chance to live. How about you?”

“Hell, yeah!” Yuffie said emphatically, nudging Vincent again. She was echoed by several voices, some more enthusiastic than others.

Then Tifa stood up next to Cloud, brushing a few crumbs off her front. Every eye in the room instantly focused on her.

“I know—well, for some of us—we’ll always feel guilty for the trouble we caused back then,” she said, her hand firmly on Cloud’s back. “There’s nothing we can do to make any of that go away. But I want us all to remember all the good things we did, and the times we shared. I want us to celebrate friendship.”

“Here’s to friends!” Yuffie cried, raising her glass. “They’re fun and weird and awesome, they’ve always got your back, they totally kick ass, and they’re almost as precious as Materia!” She laughed at her own joke.

“I like having friends,” said Nanaki.

“To friends,” Tifa repeated, raising her own half-empty glass of juice. She paused, her throat tight, and added, “Including one special friend who should be with us right now. But she’s here in spirit.”

“To Aerith!” they all chorused.

Glasses clinked. Everyone drank, even the kids from their tumblers of juice. Then—

“To Cloud!” Barret roared.

Clink.

“To Tifa!”

Clink.

“To Barret!”

“To Cid!”

“To Shera!”

Yuffie poured glass after glass as they all went around the room toasting each other. The toasts became more and more exotic.

“To ninja bartenders!”

“To chess-playing rat dogs!”

“To sex on the rocks!”

“Is that a drink?” said Cloud, laughing with the rest of them as he took another swig from his long-necked bottle.

“Hey!” Yuffie shouted through the hubbub. “I’m throwing Tifa a baby shower! Everyone better be back here next month, or else!”

They all promised they would.

The celebration lasted into the night. While Tifa brought out raspberry tarts and fudge brownies for dessert, Cloud took his place behind the impressive sound system he had cobbled together for the bar two summers ago. Yuffie led Reeve, Cid, and Shera in a medley of athletic gyrations to “Hip Hop de Chocobo” and Barret twirled Marlene around the room to the lazy strains of “Costa del Sol”.

Just as the kids had launched their campaign for Tifa and Barret to let them stay up just a little later, someone rapped loudly on the front door to the tune of “Shave and a Haircut”.

Marlene abandoned her wheedling at once. “He’s here!”

The late arrival was three feet tall, had a coat of plush black and white fur, and spoke with quite possibly the most grating accent in the history of the civilized world. Marlene scooped him up immediately, like she always did. “Kitty Sith!”

“Marlene, ugh,” moaned Denzel.  

“Ah, don’t be too hard on the lass! She’s been callin’ me that since she was a wee one!”

Marlene had indeed formed a curious attachment to the cat when he’d visited her and Elmyra in Kalm to relay the news of Aerith’s passing, when she was only four. She had told Tifa and Barret all about the funny talking kitty who had let her cuddle him and promised that her daddy was coming back soon. The unfortunate nickname had stuck. To this day Tifa wondered why Reeve had chosen such a bizarre medium to convey his message, one that many, if not most, would have found tasteless.

Free from Marlene’s clutches, Cait Sith looked dramatically around the room, feigned a gasp at the sight of all the others, and staggered backward, his white-gloved hands windmilling. “What a party you’re havin’ here! With all my favorite people!”

Tifa rose to her feet with an indulgent smile. “And now you’ve made our reunion complete!”

Next to her, Cloud groaned audibly.

As Cait Sith took center stage, Reeve faded into the woodwork, sitting in a corner with his eyes oddly glazed over. He had once tried to explain to Tifa how he controlled the robotic cat with his mind, but she’d long given up trying to understand it.

Cait Sith’s tired jokes, card tricks, and fortunes were largely ignored by the adults in the room. He did, however, garner a few laughs—and a growl from Barret—when he predicted that Marlene was going to marry a man with blond hair and have a dozen blue-eyed children, and Denzel would one day get himself a motorbike and open a flower delivery service.

“Thank you,” he said, bowing down until his whiskered nose nearly bumped the floor. “Thank you all so kindly for humorin’ me. Y’know, it’s easy for a stuffed ball of fluff like me to go around sayin’ whatever I want, makin’ jokes and such. I don’t have to worry about folks takin’ me seriously when I speak my mind. But I want you all to know, I’m mighty chuffed to be included in a group of heroes like yourselves, and to be considered a friend. I’m indebted to every single one of you.” He spread his skinny arms wide as his gaze swept the room, bouncing from face to face. “You’re the finest set of humans—” a huff from Nanaki— “er, and non-humans I’ve ever known… and… well, since I don’t have a heart, I love you all with every synthetic fiber in my wee little chest!”

Everyone stared, as if the cat had somehow captured their tongues by the power of either poignant words or pure, unadulterated cringe.

“Aww,” said Yuffie at last. “We love you, too!”

Tifa looked down at the stuffed cat with his oversized hands and feet and the tiny crown perched between his large pointed ears, and then at Reeve, who sat in his corner with a stupidly large grin on his narrow face.

Marlene was the first to get up. She gave Cait Sith an affectionate pat on the head, then approached Reeve from the side and silently put her arms around him. Tifa saw his fleeting look of surprise before he hugged her back. Then, over the pink bow at the top of her dark hair, his eyes met Denzel’s, and the two exchanged a self-conscious smile.

It was well past midnight. Tifa finally had the kitchen to herself, and she was busy putting everything back just the way she wanted it.

There wasn’t really much left to do. Yuffie and Shera had already done most of the cleanup and would have gladly finished it had Tifa not shooed them out; they were her guests, they should go to bed, she’d take care of it. That was when Yuffie, with an all-knowing smile that oozed with sympathy, had brought out that term she’d been using more and more lately—nesting.

Apparently nesting was a thing all expectant mothers were biologically compelled to do as their time drew near, and it was supposed to explain why Tifa had been obsessively cleaning every inch of the house since the moment the Yule decorations had come down. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this word, nesting. On the one hand, it gave her some reassurance that she was, indeed, acting perfectly normal if Cloud happened to stumble half-asleep into the bathroom at 2:19 AM to find her crouched in the shower, scrubbing at the grout lines with a toothbrush. On the other hand, it made her feel like a Chocobo hen as she bustled about, getting ready to lay some eggs.

At any rate, Yuffie had finally traipsed up the stairs to join Marlene and Denzel, who were supposed to be asleep, and now the three of them were cackling like fiends about Gaia knew what up there. Meanwhile, Cid and Shera had waltzed off to the guest suite downstairs, and Tifa, as she wiped each glass, was also trying to wipe her brain of the image of Cid’s hand curving around Shera’s bottom as they disappeared through the door.  

Reeve and his feline alter ego had gone back to his apartment in the city with a heartfelt promise to keep in touch. Barret had claimed the cot in Cloud’s office upstairs; Tifa could hear his snores all the way out on the front porch when she braved the frigid night air to take out the last bag of trash. Vincent had assured her he’d be happy on the living room couch and Nanaki was probably curled up on his favorite rug by the fireplace.

Tifa had “Costa del Sol” on repeat as she washed the cooking utensils and pans and found herself really getting into it, adjusting her steps as she moved her ungainly body to the seductive rhythm. The jazzy, lighthearted theme reminded her of the carefree days of last summer’s vacation with Cloud… as well as the steamy nights. She twirled around to snatch a clean towel off the counter.

“Hey.”

Her cheeks flooded. Cloud stood in the doorway, still in his sleeveless black sweater, smiling at her. He did smile a lot more these days, it was true, but right now he was looking a little tipsy.

“Hey,” she said, reaching up quickly to turn off the music. “It got quiet all of a sudden. Did Yuffie finally go to bed?”

“Yeah. She’s gonna camp out in the nursery. I gave her Denzel’s sleeping bag and a pillow and those old paisley sheets. Hope she doesn’t mind sleeping next to packs of diapers and gift bags.” A few thoughtful customers had already given them some things for the baby.

“Oh, she’ll be fine. That girl sleeps like a rock. Always did, when we were on the road together.” Tifa sighed at the memory.

“She worked hard tonight.” Cloud was unusually cavalier with this admission, as if he just wanted to get it over with. “And except for when she lost the shaker, she actually did great.”

“I’m glad. She needed the confidence boost. Kind of like someone else I know.”

“She’ll never be as good as you,” he said. “Nobody could even come close.”

“Why, Cloud… how sweet of you.”

She loved to see the glow that came over him whenever he successfully complimented her, the way his shoulders and hips subtly loosened and his movements gained a noticeable swagger. Without disturbing her precise arrangement of the glasses she’d left out to dry, he pulled one of the kids’ plastic tumblers down from an overhead cabinet and sauntered up beside her, filling it at the sink. The zipper on his sweater had crept a few inches down from where it had been earlier—probably not by accident—and she averted her gaze as heat pulsed in her, shifting her thighs to ease the ache she’d been fighting to subdue all evening.

“So.” Cloud took a sip of water as he looked out over the bar at all the empty tables with the chairs stacked on top, upside down. “Alone at last.”

“Yup. Looks like we are.”

“You didn’t have to stop dancing, you know.”

“Huh?” Tifa blushed. “You wanted to watch the fat mama chocobo waddle?”

“You are not fat, Tifa. Will you stop that already?”

“Sorry.”

He leaned back against the counter with a smirk on his lips. “Maybe someone else needs a confidence boost tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nudged him with her hip. “Then I’m sure you can think of something better than watching me dance.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Use your imagination.”

“Hmm.” He pretended to give it serious thought. “Should I watch you clean? You’re good at that, too.”

Tifa snorted as she rinsed out a baking pan under the tap. “Now that’s an excuse I haven’t heard before. Even Denzel hasn’t tried that one yet.”

“But I help out all the time.” The puppy pout was imminent.

“I know, and I appreciate it.”

Whenever he was home early from deliveries—and these days he tried hard to be—Cloud always stayed up to help Tifa in the bar after closing time, doing the less delicate jobs like cleaning the restroom, mopping the floor. He wasn’t bad at it, either. His mother had taught him well, and since the two of them could get all the work done in half the time it took her by herself, she got to go to bed earlier—always a win.

“Some night, huh?” he said casually, while she scrubbed at one of the lily-patterned serving dishes he’d bought for her birthday one year.

“Sure was. Not so bad after all, was it?”

“No, I guess not. We should do it more often.”

She put down the dishcloth and patted his dry hand with her wet one. “You did great, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure the beer had something to do with it.”

“Nope. Not a chance. That was all you.”

Cloud grinned shyly, like a kid who’d just been praised for saying please and thank you. He turned his gaze to the sink, where a few dishes still bobbed in the dwindling suds, and tried to grab a ceramic platter.

“Uh-uh.” Tifa batted his hand away. “No doing dishes drunk.”

“I only had one beer.” He kept darting around her in some clumsy game of keep-away while she lunged for him. “I don’t even know if I finished it.”

She caught him by the wrists—his reflexes were a bit slower than usual—and he desisted.

“Most of one beer is enough for you,” she said, shoving a damp rag into his hand. “But you can wipe down the range top if you want to be helpful.”

“Are you gonna wipe it down again as soon as I’m done?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Depends on how drunk you are.”

He took the rag and obediently swiped it over the grease-spattered surface between the burners. “You know, it wouldn’t be a bad idea if we did this every year.”

“Think you could tolerate it?” she teased.

“Sure. If I can survive a night with Yuffie bartending, Cait Sith giving speeches, Nanaki lighting napkins on fire, and both Cid and Barret on my ass and drunk at the same time, I can survive anything.”

“I thought they behaved themselves pretty well… considering.”

“Never a dull moment, that’s for sure.”

“No kidding. I don’t know who surprised me the most, Vincent or Reeve.”

“I love all those idiots,” laughed Cloud. “Even the damn cat.”

Tifa looked at him with her mouth open as he happily worked the rag around the knobs on the range, unaware she was staring. The titanic wave of affection she felt for him in that moment nearly suffocated her. How was it possible to love this man even one little drop more than she already did? How?

“Aren’t you full of surprises tonight,” she said softly, a small hitch in her voice. “I love them, too.”

She rinsed the last serving platter and lifted it onto the drying rack. Cloud returned the rag to her, and she swished it around in the pool of suds before wringing it out.

“So… about tonight,” he said, tapping one naked finger on the counter.

She draped the rag over the edge of the sink. “Yes?”

“I wanted to talk some more about… you know.” He fiddled with the fringed edge of the dish towel. “What I was fighting for… back then.”

“Okay. Just a sec…”

Tifa pulled the plug, withdrew her dripping hands from the sink, and pulled the towel from next to Cloud’s hand to dry them. She waited for him to speak, but he had suddenly gone very quiet. The filmy dishwater gurgled and slurped on its way down the drain.

They’d all found their reasons, that day. Barret was fighting for Marlene’s future and nothing else entered the picture. Nanaki had his people, the memory of his grandpa, and his father’s heroic sacrifice. Cid… he’d already found his dream, right? Had he traveled all the way to Rocket Town to spend the night with Shera, the one who had been there all along?

Yuffie… was it really about the glory of Wutai? The shiny baubles of Materia she’d collected, or the new friends?

For Vincent it was his sins, would always be his sins. And Reeve and Cait Sith, the enigma, the puppet, the double agent… maybe the thing he wanted most was to know it was all worthwhile.

As if it had happened yesterday, Tifa remembered the way they had all stood in a wide circle on the deck of the Highwind surrounding herself and Cloud—her Cloud, the boy next door with the endearingly stupid hair, the beautiful boy she’d loved beyond all reason since childhood, being so bold, so brave, the undisputed leader of their oddball group.

I’m fighting to save the Planet… But besides that, there’s something…

“You said you had a memory… a personal memory,” she prompted him, hugging herself with her arms tucked into the tiny space between her enlarged breasts and her even larger bump. “I always wondered what you meant by that.”

Cloud tilted his head in response, eyes narrowed, hands perched on his hips. He was a husband, a father, and a father-to-be, but in that moment he looked just like the cocky, self-proclaimed Ex-SOLDIER of those days, before she’d uncovered his true self.

“You don’t know?”

Tifa shook her head. “We never talked about it.”

For a moment they stood there under the fluorescent light, face to face, without speaking. She had stood like this with him once before, beneath a blood-red sunset she’d thought would be her last, waiting in agony for him to make his move.

“It was you,” Cloud said. “It was always you, Tifa. That’s… what I wanted to say.”

You…

The words slammed into her like a knockout punch. She turned away to hide the burning flood of tears, dabbing them on the damp towel. Damn it, hormones, why now? He didn’t want to deal with a weepy, slobbering mess.

“You were fighting… for me?” she said.

“That’s right. And I’m gonna keep fighting.”

Tifa felt as if she could fly. It was true. He was fighting for her. They’d gone through some rough patches, of course, but even when he’d left, it wasn’t long before he had fought his way back to her. And now he was right here, in this home they’d built together, in this kitchen where they spent so many evenings together because he fought for every spare minute he could get with her. They’d shared countless dinners and desserts here, had long, mostly silly, sometimes serious talks over drinks… had even closed the bar for twenty minutes one afternoon and hastily, sloppily made love before the kids got home from school, right up against that wall…

“We have a lot of memories, don’t we?” she said absently. “Which one was it?”

Her heart flipped over as he stared at her in disbelieving chagrin, and once again she found herself wondering if she had actually been born an idiot.

“That night at the water tower,” he said.

“Oh, Cloud.” Tifa clapped her hands to her flaming cheeks. “I am so, so sorry. I should’ve known—that’s the one we remembered together, in the Lifestream. How dumb can I be?”

“Tifa—”

Her eyes filled again. “Why do I keep trying to minimize all these things that are so important to you?”

“Because you don’t realize how damn important you really are, as usual.” Cloud’s face became flushed as his voice rose from mild irritation to blazing intensity. “Everything came back to that promise for me. It was the only memory I had that was still intact, the only one Jenova couldn’t screw around with. It was the one thing that kept me sane when I started doubting whether I was a real human being or—or some humanoid facsimile created in Hojo’s lab. If I didn’t have that to hold on to… if I couldn’t…” He shook his head in frustration.

“Go on.”

His Mako-bright eyes found hers, silently pleading, before he lowered them once more. “I don’t even know how to say it.”

He laid his hand on her wrist, and his touch leaped through her. It was insane, the way this pregnancy had affected her body. She could hardly be in the same room with him without getting worked up, and every time he put so much as a finger on her, it was all she could do not to melt right there on the spot.

“Who needs words, right?” she managed, breathlessly.

Cloud came up close behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders, firm and warm, and it felt so much like that day, when just one touch could accomplish everything words couldn’t.

“I still don’t know what I thought I wanted to say to you, back then,” he said quietly. “But when everyone else was gone and we were alone together on the deck of that airship, I knew it was time I did something.”

“I know,” Tifa said. “I was so nervous, Cloud, I really was. But I wasn’t scared.”

His arms slipped down around her shoulders. “I was.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.” He nuzzled at the curve of her neck, gently rocking her back against him with his arms snug across her chest. “I was terrified.”

“As I recall, you got over it pretty quick.”

“I suppose I did.”

Brushing her thick hair aside, he reached around to cup her chin and tipped her head back, trailing kisses down the side of her cheek, then her jawline. Tifa’s knees trembled. His grip was firm and she knew him to be much less inhibited when he’d had a little drink.

“Like Cid said earlier, it’s been five years since… you know.” His hands slid down over her front, slowly, caressing, until his fingers laced together to cradle her heavy belly. “A special anniversary.”

A giggle escaped her. “You mean… your not-keeping-it-in-your-pants-a-versary.”

“Exactly my point.” He swept his palms over her hips and leaned in, pressing gently, his breath hot on the rim of her ear. “’Cause I don’t wanna keep it in there much longer.”

“Mmm… I’m starting to feel your point.”

Cloud moved his hips more assertively then, and she sucked in a breath as he whispered, “I’m not done making it.”

Her heart pounding in her chest, Tifa twisted in his arms to face him. His strong hand staked its claim at the small of her back, and her fingers raked up tufts of his feathery hair as their lips met.

This warm and tidy little kitchen, her haven, would just be a cramped, ordinary kitchen if he wasn’t in it. The space was so small that he nearly fell backward onto the counter as she clung to him and deepened their kiss. The growling hum of the old refrigerator reminded her of a certain noisy engine that had once serenaded them from fifty feet above the ground, and though their child now slept in the growing space between them, their bodies swayed together in an old but familiar rhythm they had never really lost.

All she had wanted that night was a little more time with him, just a little bit longer. They’d been given that and so much more. That was what both of them had fought for, Tifa realized. The chance to live.

When they broke apart Cloud was blushing like a winter sunset, and the starry glow from beneath his gold-tipped lashes gave her all the confirmation she needed.

“Why don’t we continue this, um, pointed discussion upstairs?” She gripped his hands and drew him back toward the shadowy corridor, fingers interlocked, arms extended gracefully as if in a dance. “My back still hasn’t forgotten those rocks.”