Five Ways Cloud and Tifa Said Nothing and Everything

1: Hanging by a Moment

At three in the morning, something stumbled through Seventh Heaven's door.

The owner, and sole employee, of Strife Delivery Service looked like he'd been dragged through six feet of mud, soil, dirt and other similar, miscellaneous debris. He felt just as bad as he smelled - which was saying something since a permeable stink clung to his clothes and skin. His muscles ached everywhere – back, legs, arms, neck, even his head – and when he sank into a chair, the bruises over his body cried for attention the only way they knew how. He had no broken bones out of sheer luck although a sprained ankle was certainly close to materializing. The only thing missing was blood and that was because he'd wrapped bandages around his gashed arms before he rode home. Outside, Fenrir was no better than its owner, scratched, dented and dinged beyond measure. It only made his head pound harder to think of all the work it would take to restore the bike to its former glory.

It had not been a good day.

And he didn't plan to ruin anyone else's. Maybe it was a good thing he'd only managed to come back at this ungodly hour of the morning.

Her gasp resounded – the bar was so quiet – as soon as he finished that thought.

Even in such a state, he still had some presence of mind to stretch out one hand, a sign to keep away from him. He was practically caked in muck, grit and grime. He stank so much, he was sure those in the Lifestream were wrinkling their noses. This was no time for her to get any closer.

"...I'm alright... just dirty..." he mumbled, trying to communicate his intentions.

She hesitated, then nodded and turned away, disappearing into the back. He breathed out, closing his eyes. Two minutes. Two minutes and he would drag his sorry behind into the shower. Just give him two minutes.

He groaned when he felt a wet, cold cloth graze his shoulder. She could be just that stubborn.

She sighed when he opened his eyes again, looking wearily, pleadingly, at her. "It's too late for you to pull your machismo on me. Stay still."

If he felt more like a human being rather than a sack of wet cement, he'd have protested. As it were, he sat there limply as she quietly wiped some of the grime away from his exposed skin. Only once did she shake her head as she avoided touching the bandages around his arms. The cloth was soaked in a basin of water, squeezed then applied to his forehead. One hand gently brushed his blonde fringe away as the cloth swept across the planes of his face and his neck. Admittedly, the coolness felt good against his skin and at least in a small way, he felt less filthy.

Nonetheless, when it was taken away, he looked at her through slightly blurry vision.

"...you stayed up."

Her brown eyes crinkled in a sheepish smile and she shook her head.

"I fell asleep. But I woke up at two. Then I heard you come in."

He continued to look at her, blue eyes glowing in the darkness as she turned around and wrung more water back into the basin.

And with the feeling that he hadn't quite a good grasp of what he was doing, he lifted his hand and tiredly settled his fingers onto her elbow, catching her by surprise.

"...why?"

She could have answered him in many ways. Most frivolous, some sarcastic. He could see her consider them as she looked back at him, trying to see what he meant. Yet, instead of saying anything, she just smiled slightly and gingerly removed his hand.

"You're exhausted, you need a bath, and chances are you don't know what you're talking about. You probably won't even remember all this tomorrow morning. But..."

She leaned forward and lightly pressed a kiss to his aching temple.

"This is why."

Then she helped him out of the chair and pushed him onto his bed – "I'd rather change bed sheets than drag your unconscious body out of the shower" – before heading to her own room to get some more sleep before dawn.

-ººº-

"I remember."

She dropped a cup in the sink at his voice, whirling around in surprise. "I thought you'd gone-" She paused. He saw her eyes widen as the realization hit home. "You... remember?"

He almost smiled. Instead, he walked round to stand behind the counter, looking at her steadily. "...yes."

She looked away, face burning a brilliant red, eyes unable to look up. "...oh."

He stood there before her for a minute – maybe a thousand, maybe a million – before he took in a breath. It felt like the breath one drew before one plunged into the unknown depths of cold water.

It turned out that her cheek – and then her lips – were much warmer.

Final Fin.

kitsune13: I agree with you - it is good to see Cloud getting stronger. Somehow you feel proud of him when he does something normal. (laugh)

policis: (laugh) It's possible! Thanks for reading. ^^

mom calling: Don't worry, William's quite a calm bird. He doesn't quite understand all the strange vibes he gets from the people on his back but as long as he's getting fed, he doesn't mind. ;)

indigoia: Uhh, well I wasn't really thinking about the length, to be honest. ^^;; I think a yard is pretty much the same everywhere - it's just that I'm more used to the metric system so that could have added to the confusion. Thanks for pointing it out though. :)

kerapal bubbles: Don't we all want a furry Chocobo to take us to work and school? It'd be worth it just to see the looks on people's faces. (laugh)

Podchaser: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it. ^__^

vLuna: I guess she thought some things are best answered silently. (laugh)

Portrait of a Scribe: I thought having the Gold Chocobos around might be a bit much, even after four years. Still, they're on their way! ;)