Together as the Lights Fall
i; wide awake
It's not really wrong
It's not really right
I'm wide awake
--Tegan and Sara, "All You Got"
(first)
It's three thirty in the morning and her bedroom window slides open almost soundlessly, though not quite. She's aware that something is different, that there's been a noise, before she hears the window slide shut again.
When the lock engages, Tifa sits up in bed, rolls off and comes up with her fists in front of her face.
"Whoah, Teef, it's just me! I didn't want to wake you up."
Tifa runs a hand through her hair, pushes it off her face. She forces a low chuckle. "Well, I guess it's too late for that."
"Go back to bed. I'll just crash on your couch." Before Tifa can say she'll find some blankets, the other woman holds up a hand. "No worries. Just go back to bed."
Yuffie becomes a slipping shadow in deeper shadows. Tifa's door clicks shut, the creaky hinges eerily silent for the ninja. As she settles back into bed, Tifa wonders if Wutaian ninja carry steal Materia.
Tifa does go back to bed. She doesn't quite go back to sleep. It's funny. Tiredness traps her in a half-awake kaleidoscope of memories and thoughts.
She wonders if the woman stretched out on her couch is comfortable, wonders if she broke into the linen closet or if she half-assed it like she usually does. Is she dreaming, curled onto her side? Or is she lying on her back with her hands fisted in the covers, just as awake as Tifa, with strange sleepy thoughts slipping around in those tired gray eyes?
(second)
Seventh Heaven closes at midnight. By a quarter to, she's itching for her stragglers to leave. Not that she'd ever tell them so.
The door swings open and Yuffie strides in, for once wearing the WRO uniform. She's even carrying a LEO-issue handgun.
"Tifa Lockhart," she says, "I'm requisitioning your bar."
No. That's not right. She jerks. It's quiet and Tifa is sitting in a chair in the kitchen. Yuffie's sitting in the chair across from her, curled around a mug of warm milk that's long gone cold. She's slumped forward, one of those pale gold cheeks resting against the cool wood counter. Her arm keeps her head stable, fingers cupped just a little.
It takes a moment of squinting to realize that it's four in the morning and there's a light on in the hall. She disentangles her legs from the chair legs, gets up out of the seat.
Yuffie's light in her arms. Does she even weigh eighty pounds? And she's tired, too; Tifa remembers a girl who curled up around her shuriken like it was a stuffed animal and woke at the slightest sound. But the girl she's carrying with only a little difficulty--all of it thanks to the fact that Yuffie's only a little shorter than Tifa herself--is sound asleep.
Reeve must work her hard. Not that Yuffie ever admits it. To admit it would be asking for credit, or so she seems to think.
She grunts just a little as she deposits Yuffie on the couch. She's taken to keeping a comforter folded under the end table, just in case. Naturally, there are always pillows about; the children drag things into the living room and never put them back where they belong. At least not without a few gentle reminders.
Yuffie wakes up. Her body jerks in shock, eyes opening wide, before a smile curls her lips into a wicked curve. "Tell me you did not just carry me to your couch?"
"I'm afraid I did," she says.
"You chivalrous knight savior person you," Yuffie says through a particularly long yawn.
Tifa ruffles that short hair before she heads upstairs. She doesn't have any problems falling back asleep.
The next few dreams are a cycle of strange images. The only one that leaves an impression is the sight of Cid and Yuffie in hospital beds while Red tries to convince Barret not to shoot the ceiling. Or the doctor.
When she wakes at seven, Yuffie has Marlene and Denzel up, dressed, and eating sugar-free cereal.
"Morning, sunshine," she says.
"Yeah," Tifa says, a smile spreading across her face, "there is."
(third)
The bell rings when Yuffie opens the door. She steps through with a smile that Tifa can't help but return.
"The new table's in the bed of the truck." She winks. "Some assembly required."
"I'm sure we can handle it," Tifa says.
"Yeah," says Yuffie, "we're women of the world. Ain't no table going to stand against us!"
The last is a pretty good imitation of Barret. Tifa chuckles.
Twenty minutes later, Yuffie is swearing at her knuckles and has thrown the carpentry mallet across the room. It hits a baseboard and rebounds across the hardwood floor, spins straight into her hand.
"You're really good at that," Tifa says.
"Ninja training." Yuffie gives her a cocky smile, shakes her wrist a couple of times.
It takes another fifteen minutes and a little man-handling of heavy wood before they're even close to done. After that, it's just shoving a few planks around, until they're where they need to be.
Yuffie smiles and takes the carpentry mallet to the table before Tifa wrestles it from her grip. She gives the edges of the table a good hard whack. She has to jerk hard, throwing her back into it, to pull the table apart.
"I'd say we're good," she says.
"Good," Tifa replies, puts an arm around Yuffie's shoulder because she can.
"You going to bounce for me tonight?"
"Asked for the night off just so I could." Yuffie's hand twines with hers for just an instant.
Tifa doesn't crawl into bed until four thirty the next morning. Yuffie sleeps on her floor.