Beneath A Smile

AN: I own nothing in this story. This is for fire mystic so enjoy! Please R&R.

I thought I had everything figured out about life. I thought I had all the answers. See, as a Turk, everything boils down to for the company or against the company. It makes things like right or wrong, guilt, and purpose vanish. When applied to it's extreme you get someone like Tseng.

But me, I'm more than just a Turk. I'm a human being, a flawed one, but the fact still remains.

I didn't always think like this. Someone taught me it. Someone I used to think was an enemy.

Someone named Tifa Lockhart.

It all started a few months after those gray haired mommas boys were defeated...

I was at Tifa's bar, alone, Rude being sick at the time. There was no one else, it being a Sunday and all. The thing about Tifa, besides her breasts, that always caught my attention were her eyes. Those deep brown eyes of hers that almost looked red in the right light. They were always so...hopeful...is the only way I can describe it.

And on this night she refilled my drink and looked at me for a moment before talking.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just wondering why I'm here talking to someone I used to fight," I said, smirking.

"Things change," she replied.

"But not people like you," I shot back.

"People like me?" I wish I had a camera just to capture the look on her face, it was right up there with Laney's confused expressions before exploding at me.

"Yeah, saviors of the Planet, defending the weak, slaying the dragon, and all that fairytale bullshit."

"I've never thought of myself like that," she said. I motioned for her to continue but she gave a slight shake of her head. "C'mon, I'm good at keeping secrets. If I wasn't I'd be in some unmarked grave by now."

"How do I know I can trust you?" I snorted at that.

"From where I'm sitting you're the one who's untrustworthy. Running a bar and then blowing up reactors on the side? Very devious if I do say so myself."

"You have a point but why are you so interested all of a sudden?"

"Well there's the fact that you've taken in that kid Denzel."

"And what about it?"

"Rumor has it that his parents both died as a result of one of the Mako Reactors getting bombed by a certain group," I stated.

Judging from the look in her eyes, she had known.

"Does it make it easier for you or are you just using the kid to atone for your crimes?" Her fists clenched then and I held up my hands. She calmed down a few moments later and her shoulders slumped.

"No...it doesn't make it easier...I suppose I did want to make up for all the pain I caused. I thought all of you working for Shinra deserved to suffer...I just didn't realize you were the same as me until recently."

"I'm not like you," I said. "I don't have any happy memories." Tifa took this in and I observed her, the way her lips parted a little as she breathed in, the heave of her chest, and what a chest it was, until she spoke again.

"How do you...deal with killing people?" I met her eyes then.

"You don't, plain and simple. It never gets any easier. People weren't made to kill others yet we do it anyway. We're all screwed up, some of us just pretend we aren't."

"People like you?" she asked.

I smirked and stood up, leaving a large tip.

"I'll tell you some other time...that is if you want me in your bar still." She gave me a tiny smile.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

This arrangement of ours continued over the next several weeks and we started to learn more about each other.

I told her my greatest fear was getting old.

She told me about her love of swings and walking in the starlight.

Eventually, I realized we had become something: friends.

One night, she asked me something.

"Reno, tell me something from your childhood."

"There's nothing to tell. Some orphanage that doesn't exist anymore, a few beatings here and there, and worse."

"That isn't nothing," she said, a hand reaching out to take mine.

I let her place it over my own as I narrowed my eyes.

"I don't want your pity."

"I'm not pitying you."

"Then what do you call it?"

"I'm trying to understand you," she said softly.

The sincerity in her eyes pierced through me. A person shouldn't have eyes that look like hers did in that moment. But I kept my composure outwardly and gave a sigh.

"These," and I pointed to one of my red scars, "were a little memento from the orphanage. I got them for trying to do the right thing," I muttered, looking at our entwined hands. Looking up at her a few seconds later, I smirked.

"Understand me any better?" I really tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice as I asked this but some of it slipped through. She didn't respond with words, instead squeezing my hand and looking at me with those eyes again.

I still wonder why I asked what I did next.

"Are you still waiting for Cloud?" Her answer didn't come for some time.

"Yes and no," she said. "Yes because he's my best friend and I care what happens to him. I want him to be happy. No because I've realized that I never loved him, just the ideal of him, of what I wanted him to be."

I decided to squeeze her hand then and gave her a genuine smile as I took a breath.

"Do you think you could wait for me?" I motioned to our entwined hands and Tifa's eyes widened a little before she smiled.

You could power cities with that smile, it was that damn bright.

"Yeah...I'll wait for you," she said softly.

And she did. It took me another month before I asked her out on a date.

I decided on going to the park and yes I did bring a picnic basket but I didn't write any damn poetry. I'm a Turk after all.

We were going steady for a year before I asked an even crazier question.

She said yes.

And now I'm looking at her laying beside me in our bed.

I'm going to be a father.

And as I stroke her stomach and she opens her eyes a little, she gives me a sleepy smile.

I really wish I had a camera now.

It's just that kind of smile.