Realised I started this over 6 years ago. Christ. Poor Reeve and Tifa have been left hanging since!

Chapter 12: Clarity

Lacing her fingers through his hair and embedding her nails deliciously in his scalp, she began to rock her hips against his, building up a slow, yet agonisingly wonderful rhythm. The details of the room around him evade him, and even though he is having the most amazing sex, he tried to focus; why can't he tell what colour the walls are? Why doesn't he recognise the room, the sheets, or the furniture?

…The he wakes up, chastising himself mentally; he can't even have a decent sex dream without worrying about some other detail or another.

Something had to crack soon, Yuffie had warned in all her drunken wisdom last night, and he was afraid to say she might be right. He had left the party feeling rather empty, despite the festivities. Tifa had managed to break through Vincent's walls, and they were sharing some whiskey shots at the bar; he could become a project to keep her occupied for the time being. Reeve was hardly in her good books right now, on account of turning her down because of 'some bullshit excuse'… (Yuffie's words, not his).

No doubt the ninja gathered that information on her own—it's not like she hadn't been trying to urge the two of them together for weeks, if not months, and he sure as hell seemed to be doing everything in his power to mess up his chances.

He sits up in bed, not dissimilar to the one in which moments ago he was having a much better experience, and glances across at the low red-lit digits of his alarm clock. It's almost dawn. He sighs, and figures that he may as well get up for the day. His apartment is dark yet as usual he doesn't bother to turn on the lights. He has always been able to see relatively clearly in the dark anyway, on account of his gift.

The coffee machine gurgles to life at his behest, and he waits patiently with fingertips idle on the counter. His thoughts, never idle, are mulling over the predicament with Cait Sith, and how it had become linked with his affection for Tifa. He couldn't help but dwell on the quiet parting words of wisdom Vincent of all people had given him last night.

"Certainly I am not one who is able to judge you for your sense of inadequacy for a woman's affections. Try and understand it, in order that you don't break Tifa's heart in the process of trying to protect it."

The damned Ex-Turk was so on the money, and he knew it. Reeve had been so taken aback he had forgotten to respond, instead shuffling off with his one-too-many burdens running through his mind. Why was he shutting her out?

Why couldn't he just let go, let her in to his life, his head, and his bed, where he clearly wished her to be godsdamnit?

He pressed his palms firmly into his eye sockets, allowing his mind to follow the dancing coloured shapes that sprung to life behind his eyelids. He recalled a time when their relationship had been light-hearted, even flirty. He smiled at the memory of their dancing on her birthday, of how she had lay her head on his shoulder until she was almost asleep. How he had lifted her easily into his arms and taken her upstairs, ignoring the jeers from Barrett and Cid. He recalled the many occasions of late where he had had ample opportunity to kiss her, and didn't; how many times they had almost not made it to another day, and yet were still avoiding taking that next step into the unknown, the taking of a risk neither one had a great track record with taking.

He sighed heavily, letting his hands fall away from his face. The outline of his kitchen came slowly to the forefront of his vision as the lights faded from his retinas. If he was going to do or say anything, there could be no better opportunity than the one in front of him.

Tonight, there would a celebration at the Edge City Hall, to commemorate the WRO's recent victory and the cost of attaining it. Everyone would be there, including Tifa. Perhaps he might find courage to speak up, if he plied himself with enough champagne.

He poured himself a black coffee, and took a cautionary sip – too hot.

Things were slowly starting to fall into place in his mind for tonight, and he prayed it would give him the answer to the quandary Vincent has posed.

-0-

Tifa was at her nightstand, dressing for the evening when she received a strange message from Reeve on her PHS.

Bring Cait Sith tonight.

Frowning, she glanced in the mirror to her bed, where the cat had coiled itself in the tangle of bed sheets she had neglected to resolve this morning.

Sighing, she returned her attention to her hair.

-0-

Reeve was agitated, pacing the marble tiling at the rear of the grand hall with his PHS pressed to his ear. She spotted him immediately as she reached the top of the small flight of steps that lead down into the vast open space of the hall, where many people in tuxedos and evening dresses milled around waiting staff with gleaming trays of fizzing champagne. Taking one glass from a passing waitress with one hand and adjusting her grip on Cait with the other, she crossed the hall to Reeve, trying to ignore her racing heart. Before she could reach him and interrupt his pacing phone call, Reno intercepted her. Reeve, oblivious to her arrival, disappeared into a back room at the rear of the hall and out of her view.

"Whoah, Crazy cat lady! Looking mighty fine tonight babe." He looked her up and down, the goggles he still wore nestled in his fiery mane catching the candle light from the chandeliers.

"You're no slouch either in a Tux, Reno," She laughed, appraising his jaunty take on formal wear- bow tie undone and draped around his neck, top two buttons undone, and his jacket slightly on the larger side, fitting with his Turk aesthetic from back in the day.

"We'd make a beautiful pair you and me. But unfortunately, I have been asked to delivery some Pussy to someone else." Ignoring Tifa's groan at his comment, he reached out for the cat. Cait purred, clearly not taken aback by the setting in which he found himself. "Uh, I gotta go. Reeve says he'll find you later."

-0-

Reeve glanced up as Reno entered his makeshift office, Cait held in one arm with his little white-socked paws on Reno's shoulder.

"You're lucky this tux is a rental, 'cause I'd be pissed if mine was covered in Kitty fluff." He let the cat down onto the wooden table top, where he promptly say down and began to wash it's paws.

Reeve looked sadly at the cat, worriedly chewing his bottom lip. "I'm sorry about what I need to do, Cait. I'm sure you'd understand."

Reno frowned across at his employer, folding his arms across his chest. "Wait, what?"

-0-

Reeve's speech went down a storm at the ball. He announced that both Cid and Vincent were taking leadership positions in the WRO in the military division, and that Shera would be joining the science department to lead some of the research programmes. Several other promotions, and honours were announced to raucous applause, though it took Yuffie leaning in to whisper excitedly in her ear for her to make the connection.

Reeve was devolving a lot of responsibility. Investing in internal development, both people and technology related, thanks to some further funding secured by the WRO investment committee.

After the speech, Reeve was plied with drink and swamped by WRO staff who wanted to thank and congratulate him for their recent success.

She was happy for him; the WRO's success was on a monumental rise, yet she didn't feel connected to the elation this evening. She felt… drained. Devoid of anything.

Yuffie had noticed of course, and was doing what she could to cheer her up and ply her with champagne, though she really didn't feel like remaining at the party. "I don't know Yuff, I'm just not feeling right." She complained, trying her best to edge toward the doors whilst Yuffie tugged on her arm. "I want to go home and get out of this damned dress."

This damned dress had been agonised over for a few hours, making sure it was the right style, fit and colour for the event, but at this moment that all seemed inconsequential.

"Please? At least stay for the dance? Just a little while longer?"

"I don't know…."

"Ok. You asked for it." Yuffie fixed her with a dangerously serious stare that sobered Tifa immediately. Yuffie rarely got serious. "I think you're being selfish."

"Selfish?!" She coughed, barely able to believe the audacity of the ninja's words.

"Yeah. Reeve went to a lot of effort to plan this event, for everyone at the WRO. But it's as much a celebration of him and what he has achieved as well as everyone else here. Whether you like it or not, you at least owe him the courtesy of being here to show your support. It's the least you can do."

Tifa blinked, once, then twice in quick succession. Gods, the bitch was right. "I… you're right. I'll stay. But I'm not promising I'll dance."

Yuffie's narrowed eyes softened, but only a little. "Good. And you'd better look like your enjoying yourself too."

The Ninja stalked away, leaving Tifa feeling rather sheepish and if she admitted it, near-tearful. She had been selfish.

She ducked away from the crowds of people towards the direction of the bathroom to gather herself.

It was then, fingers gripping the edge of the sink that some invisible force washed over her, sending her head spinning. Emotions raced around in her mind, such that she felt like laughing and crying at the same time, angry and then confused in the space of a few moments. Dizzying clarity slowly began to settle on her, though she remained still with eyes screwed shut, trying to quash lingering nausea.

What was that?

Staring at her reflection carefully, she considered the sudden change in her mood. Compelled by something unspoken and unconscious, she turned to face the door that lead back to babble of the party.

-0-

His heart was racing in his chest, reacting to the sudden insurgence of adrenaline into his system. He leaned forward, palms flat on the desk, and took several deep breaths to try and quash the urge to cry out. It was as though he hadn't felt an emotion in a year, and it hit him all at once with a sort of pseudo-pain, a miasma of grief, fear, laughter, love, insecurity, protectiveness…

Cait lay inanimate on the desk, his back panel removed, his circuitry shorted for good. The force of the energy that was set free sent him splaying onto the carpet.

He swallowed, and counted backwards from ten, a technique he had used since childhood when erratic energy spikes had occurred.

His lips parted with a gasp of surprise as his eyes opened. The threads of energy that had been released were still clearly visible to him. No longer connected to Cait, the pale green tendrils coiled about his wrists and arms, swirling and pulsing in time with his heartbeat, tugging imperceptibly, gently, urging him out of the room.

It was as though all of the lights were out in the main hall. There were masses of shadows, people, milling across the cool-black marble floor, unknowingly treading upon the gently lit tendrils of lifestream. He could hear a hum of voices, some whispering his name, but he wasn't listening to them. His hears were filled with the sounds of another's laboured breathing, his vision flooded by the brightness of the light as the glowing streams coalesced.

-0-

"Jesus, Tifa, are you alright? You look… weird? Are you drunk?" Yuffie was squinting at her from the dancefloor, watching as Tifa struggled to stand up straight, her head swimming. "You- HEY! Watch it!"

Reeve stepped forward just in time to steady her, gripping her elbows tightly. The warming presence of the lifestream burned everything else outside of his peripheral vision.

"Are you alright?"

"I… I think so. Something happened?"

"I know." Steadier on her feet now, he led them into the midst of the shadows, where people were dancing. They melded into the shelter of the crowd, one of his palms spread at the base of her spine, the other gripping her right hand firmly. There was music playing loudly, though they heard each others' words with perfect clarity.

"What's happening? Why can I feel… Everything?"

"It'll take a few moments to calm down." He watches the reflection of tiny sprites drifting around them in her eyes.

"What do you mean? You feel it too?" She gazed up at him earnestly, face tilted up toward him. He smiled softly, guiding their slow swaying steps in time to the music.

"I can see it as well. Our… connection. It's taking a little time to re-establish itself. When we were together in my apartment those weeks ago, we… we created an energy well in Cait. All this time it's been syphoning off the emotions we would normally feel."

She has his lapel clutched tightly in her fingers, gaze trained on his face as if seeing it for the first time. She relaxes her grip, palm pressed flat against his chest, nail gently scratching against cotton. His skin is warm beneath the fabric of his shirt. "So what happens now?"

They revolve slowly through the other dancing couples, steps in perfect synchrony. The glow of the lifestream isn't fading yet, to his surprise. Thought it is not solid in form, it seems to tighten around them. Reflexively, he draws her nearer, closing the gap between them.

"I'm sorry for being an emotionally unavailable stuck up arse." He ducks his head, darks strands of his hair falling forward and screening his face from view.

"that's a start," She giggles a little into his shirt, the scent of her hair overulling his senses.

"Oh, I'm just getting started."

His arms drop their dancer's repose, trembling fingers tilt back her chin. He leans in to kiss her gently, her mouth trembling a little beneath his. There is a rushing sound in his ears, and his chest fills with warmth as the lifestream glares before seeming to plummet out of existence, bringing the world around them back into startling relief.

The volume of the room returns to his awareness, shadows give way to become people once more, and yet he only knows her.

-0-

Alarmingly, no-one seemed to notice them slip of the back door and into a cab. The ride is short, yet agonisingly long, with his palm resting on her thigh, as high as he dared in the public space that is the read of someone else's car.

He didn't wait for the elevator doors to close before he pressed her against the back wall, mouth against hers with an urgency he had never known existed. If Tifa had previously defined Reeve for his restraint, she was rapidly being forced to reconsider, his kiss fierce, sucking on her bottom lip, his tongue exploring hers.

The doors opened at his floor.

Steps, taken in an odd backwards-forwards fashion as they did not separate for a moment, led them to the bedroom. Tifa's insistent fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as Reeve shrugged his upper body out of his jacket.

He bid her stand before him, steadying himself with hands encircling her waist. Gently, he turned her around, lifting her hair up and over her shoulder to expose the zip at the back of her dress. Placing his lips at the nape of her neck, enjoying the delicious sound of her sigh of pleasure, sending goosebumps erupting across his body, he teases it downward. She locks her fingers in his hair, arching her back a little to aid him. A kiss of cool air greets her spine as the fabric gapes.

Lips at the juncture of her shoulder, teeth abusing the skin, the dress is guided, sliding from her frame, whispering to the bedroom floor. Hungry, yet restrained fingertips explore her midriff, snagging on prominent hip bones, the dip and curve of her abdomen, the slightly roughened texture of her scar, nestled in the valley of her breasts.

She turns, forearms before her chest in a defensive posture. Reeve encircles her frame in his arms, lips against her hair. "Are you sure about this?"

She prises herself away from him slightly, to look defiantly into his face. "Shut up, Reeve."

He offers an eyebrow twitch and a smirk, before dipping to hook palms around her thighs, lifting her to straddle his waist, smirking at the oddly girly sound that burst from her lips at the action.

They slip into the sheets, all remaining barriers of clothing taken away before their bodies come together with a collective sigh. Menouvering her thighs into position around him, His mouth lowers over hers. She braces against his biceps, nails sinking into his skin as they join. Breaking the contact of their kiss to curse into the pillow, he trails kisses along her jaw line, finding the shell of her ear. What he started to do to her earlobe had her arching her back into him in a manner that suggested their passion may be short lived.

They aren't in the right mood to take things slow, he vaguely notes, as her breasts press against him. There would be time enough later. Right now they were making up for lost time. Lots of it.

-0-