Final Fantasy VII 1. Reunion

So this scenario has been floating around in my brain for a while. Wasn't sure it held water, but thought I'd give it a turn anyway. Never did a Rufus/Tifa AU outside of the FF settings before because there's plenty of room in the games to find ways they fit together. I think I'm just getting sad that I'm still in this dying ship. Awoogah! Alas! Back to Naruto for me once I get this off my brain…

Disclaimer: I don't own the names and personalities, this is just for funz.

* * *

It was going to be epic. She was going to finally have the chance to tell him, no to _show _him how much he'd meant to her and then everything was going to align. Those blue eyes would finally see her as a woman, and she'd feel those lips on hers and run her fingers through his blond hair. The world would make sense and she wouldn't feel like she'd been a chicken and a failure for all those times she couldn't tell him. This was going to be her chance. This was going to be her transformation.

That's what high school reunions were about, right?

"Too slutty." Yuffie pulled no punches, as usual.

"Seriously? You picked it out for me!" Tifa stood in front of the triple mirrors in the downtown department store they were shopping in, bare toes curling nervously into the carpet, and suppressed an urge to kick out at her outspoken friend.

"Well, I'm an idiot then, because I can see that mole on your thigh you hate. And if I can see that mole then that means everyone else is going to be looking at the fact that your underwear is almost visible."

Face met palm as Tifa let out a low groan. "Then find me a different dress that has more… dress and we'll get this wrapped up."

Yuffie seemed to be reconsidering something. "Then again you live like a nun so maybe that dress will encourage someone to—"

"_Get me a different dress!_" Tifa interrupted loudly. I friendly salesperson who had been coming to check on them did a 180 and Tifa blushed self-consciously.

Grumbling but also laughing, Yuffie scampered off into the other room. The woman couldn't do anything at a walk. Tifa had no idea why she thought shopping with her friend and work colleague for semi-formal wear was a good idea when Yuffie wore absolutely nothing but sports bras and track suits. They had met as personal trainers at the same fitness center during college and somehow the friendship had stuck, even though they couldn't be more different.

"Found one!" Yuffie didn't consider things for long. She was more about snap decisions and Tifa actually admired the woman's ability to turn off second thoughts.

"It's red."

"Mmm. Crimson maybe. There's lot of red out there, Tifa." She said it like she was surprised Tifa didn't know that.

"I said I wanted a black dress." She wanted to look classy, grown up, maybe even sexy. There wasn't a lot of room for being sexy in her life when she had to balance work and school. Going out had become a memory and she wished she had been more adventurous when she had had the time and money.

Yuffie wasn't going to accept a no. "Red can be black."

"That doesn't make sense. You need to stop reading the magazines in the waiting area between clients." But dutifully she took it back and tried it on. Years of hard work had assured the body in the dress was flawlessly fit but her eyes only saw imperfections even now: uneven calves, that little bit of belly fat she couldn't shake, arms a little too muscular to be fashionable, she could go on and on. Insecurities of a lifetime rolling forward despite her best efforts at confidence.

Her friend had known her too long or too well when she heard from outside the door. "Stop being a ninny and get out here so I can see how awesome I am at fashion." The long suffering sigh blew strands of long auburn hair around her face and Tifa stepped out again. Yuffie didn't say anything, she just made a thoughtful duckface and nodded slowly.

"Yep. That's the one."

The pencil cut skirt portion hit just above her knee and the draping hugged everywhere it needed to without being obscenely tight. The top only strained a little under Tifa's substantial chest but all her clothes did that, and the v-neck was flattering. She looked at the price tag and groaned.

"Don't you start. You said money was no object if you looked good."

"Your memory for things I've said is annoyingly accurate." Tifa could only barely justify this purchase on top of the plane tickets and hotel reservation. She was still in school and this was loan money she was blowing, money she needed to live and feed herself with not use on what essentially amounted to a vanity trip. Her monthly budget was unforgiving until she finished her physical therapy graduate program next year.

Yuffie waved a hand, her loose relationship to money a direct product of growing up in a family that didn't have to worry about it. "I can see you're torn, so I'm going to buy this and give it to you as a gift and then you _have_ to wear it to your reunion. This Cloud guy will never know what hit him."

Pride almost demanded that she refuse, but she had similar battles with Yuffie before and once she got an idea into her head it was very hard to dislodge it. It was easier to cut her losses and accept the gift graciously.

"Shoes next!"

This was some heretofore unknown circle of hell, Tifa was sure.

* * *

Pain was not a new experience. Exercise and pain had such a close relationship that pain wasn't usually something that Tifa even registered anymore. Pain was something to work through, it was something to appreciate and tolerate because it almost always meant growth. But walking around in these heels seemed excessive, useless even. They had seemed like a good buy at the time, four inch high stilettos in dark mottled snakeskin which Yuffie had termed 'bad ass', but nothing about them seemed cool when you had to be in them for hour after hour. All she had done so far was pace around a hotel room and sit in a cab.

It had been exactly like her dream at first. She had glided into the hallways she remembered all too well with the dancer's grace gained from having trained every muscle in her body to obey her. They hadn't recognized her, and when she had given her name to pick up her name tag she had watched the two ladies at the table snap their gaping mouths shut quickly. Their smiles looked plastic as envy seeped from their pores. They were still pretty women, but Tifa was stunning and she knew it. With no other recourse they had asked something snide about anyone accompanying her but she didn't rise to their bait. Instead she smiled, stamped down the anger in her mind that they couldn't just be happy she had improved herself, and tried to saunter into the gym on already aching feet.

"Whoa, Tifa, is that really you? You look like a million bucks." Red was as ginger as ever, his freckles spattered across his face in a familiar spray, and he looked honestly glad to see her. "Barrett was with me just a second ago, but he needed to take his daughter to the restroom." Marlene was a handful, Tifa could attest to that.

"Hi Red. It's been a long time. You look happy."

"Been travelling a lot for work so I feel dead on my feet at the moment, but life is good. Price of success is all your time and energy, right?" He didn't laugh because he was too reserved, but his wide smile was comforting. She had worried about him since high school, wondering if he was still that lonely kid she remembered.

Tifa continued to make small talk but darted her eyes around looking for one man in particular. Red sensed she wasn't all there and excused himself to say hello to a person a few feet over. It seemed like it was all going according to plan, barring her aching feet, and all at once she was overwhelmed with possibilities. This time she'd have the guts to lay it all out there and it wouldn't be like last time. Cowardice was something the ruled the life of the old Tifa, but she was so afraid that while things had changed so much for her they hadn't changed at all. Why was she even here? What did she have to prove? Her breathing was out of control and getting some air was suddenly vital as she rushed out a side door onto a patio decorated with streamers where various people were talking and laughing with drinks in hand. It was only late afternoon but the party was in full swing.

It was kismet, she thought, when a cab pulled to the curb and he got out. Cloud was so handsome, his hair stuck up in a few patches but nothing else about him seemed different. He was still slim, tall, and wearing a detached expression like he wasn't really seeing what he was looking at. That used to be because he needed glasses as thick as coke bottles to see something more than six inches from his face, but even when he got laser eye surgery he had kept looking at people like that from habit. He had been the most mopey and socially awkward one among their group of friends, but he had always been different around Tifa. The Cloud around Tifa had been fun and relaxed. They had laughed and spent time together talking about nothing and groaning about all the made up problems in their lives. Talking about the real problems like Tifa's mother's death to cancer shortly before freshman year or Cloud's father's sudden disappearance had been too hard. They both understood what it was to lose a parent and their connection had been so close. The smile she remembered lit up his face as he walked around the cab and she started to wave as if he had caught sight of her, but then she saw he was bending to open the cab door.

The woman with the fat braid down her back who stepped out next to him was beautiful, elegant in her bright flowing floral print dress, and hugely pregnant. Tifa felt like a fraud as a cold sweat born of stress washed over her skin.

Tifa wished for an explosion that moment that would rend the ground and swallow her whole, or a meteor to fall from the sky and grind her into nothingness. In her heart she was a fighter. She worked extra shifts to get time off on this weekend, she studied hard so she wouldn't have to take any class materials on the plane, she borrowed money and went shopping and totally rearranged her life around this one weekend. KO in the first round, that's how this felt. The burning sensation behind her eyes told her she was about to experience a very public display of weakness if she didn't move to somewhere else soon.

The tears that leaked out as she stomped though the hallways felt superheated as she wiped them away with the heels of her hands. It didn't take long to find the side door out of the cafeteria and back around to the cement patio that the kitchen workers always used to go to when they wanted to smoke. Once there she gave a feral scream and punched the wall hard enough to break the skin of her knuckles. A few more tears came, but not many, and soon she had sunk down onto the ground sniffling and cradling her hand. Seeing that there was no more point, she slipped off her shoes and tossed them away from her.

Maybe she could get an early flight back. Trade in her ticket and just wait at the airport until she could get home. She had taken Monday off so she would have some time to pull herself together before she needed to be on the ball again. Tifa used the punching bags at the gym all the time, so if next time she went in she was a little extra into it then no one would guess her inner turmoil. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, she thought, it was unfair. Her knuckles ached in answer, reminding her that losing her temper wasn't worth it.

"Are you done or is this going to go on for some time to come?" In the shade of the other side of the patio, cigarette tip smoldering, the man's voice startled her out of her self-pity. He took a drag and the puff of smoke dissipated between them. "Because I was here first."

"Excuse me?" What a jerk, she thought.

He stepped, or more acutely _limped_ into the light only to sit again and she felt like she had been kicked in the gut. "Rufus…"

"We're on a first name basis, eh… _Tifa?_" He read her name tag with some surprise which he quickly schooled back into the smooth condescension he had started with. "Your date do something to upset you?"

Years of torment, crying into her pillow at night over vicious words, and every unpleasant encounter in the hallways she'd endured at the hands of this man rushed back at her in a jumble. It had been so easy to forget those feelings and now they overwhelmed her. She _hated_ this man, or had hated him. He had made her feel both invisible and reviled at the same time.

"Looks like your date abandoned you. She walk too fast for you to catch up?" She felt bad as soon as she said it. If anything his expression only looked steelier. Just because he was terrible to her when they were sixteen didn't excuse cruelty now. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Nothing that I haven't heard before. I've been lame for years now."

They were silent, he puffed on his cigarette furiously and she sat there feeling terrible for and about herself. "I just want you to know that if there's anything I can do for you professionally when I finish my physical therapy program, I will. I'm sure you employ a lot of well qualified people and they help you already but I promise you I'll get results."

"I don't see anyone." He said suddenly, gruffly. "About my leg."

It had been the in the papers, common knowledge that the father and son team that ran the Shinra Corporation had been attacked by disgruntled employees who peppered the office with bullets when they had slashed health benefits for their employees in branch offices. His father had been gravely wounded and eventually died from complications, while Rufus' left leg had been shattered. He hadn't taken hardly any time for himself, he just went right on working and since then had made the company even more successful. She had always wondered why someone so successful would send his precious son to a public high school in Midgar, even if it was a fairly well regarded one.

"Well, if you ever change your mind, the offer is out there."

Digging into her small purse she grabbed her cell phone and a hair band. All that work this morning blow drying and flat ironing her mountain of hair and in the end it was all in a messy ponytail while she sat barefoot around her former bully. _Mission aborted_ she texted Yuffie, _Target is married with kids_. Abruptly, she turned her phone off. Once Yuffie got that she would start blowing up the phone will all sorts of nonsense and she just couldn't deal with thinking about Cloud any more now that the context had shifted so dramatically.

As if he could sense the fact that it was the last thing in the world she wanted to discuss, Rufus' voice cut the silence again. "So where's Strife? Never saw one of you without the other before."

"I don't know. I don't care."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Shut up."

"So he finally had the guts to let you down?"

"_What?!_"

Rufus actually laughed at her. "Oh come on Lockhart, you made puppy eyes at him for years, everyone knew you liked him back then. We all assumed you were a couple, or that he was gay like that ginger friend of yours."

Having her dream punctured again after all this time hurt as much now as it had ten years ago when Cloud ran off and joined the army and all she heard about him was from Barrett in emails. He stopped talking to her. He stopped being her friend. Then when she did hear from him he had to nerve to tell her how much she had supported him and how he couldn't have made himself strong without her only to disappear overseas and come back with a stupidly beautiful pregnant woman. If she had had any chance it would have been that moment before he left again, but she had been too scared. How could her body be so strong now and her resolve be so weak?

"I'm not talking about this with you." She wanted to cry and hit something (or perhaps someone) but she did neither, instead schooling herself and her mind by naming every bone in her hand and arm. It was like study meditation. It mostly worked, but the blood that was dripping between her knuckles was distracting.

"Seeing as you launched yourself into a public space with a temper tantrum it seemed like you wanted to talk about it. Otherwise you would have gone home already."

She did want to talk about it, but not with him.

"Everyone knew huh?" she snorted, remembering.

Rufus arched an eyebrow and chuckled. "You have a problem with subtlety."

Tifa wanted to argue, but then she thought about the situation, her red dress, her snakeskin pumps, and felt like the evidence wasn't in her favor. "I felt like maybe if I could change the present I could rewrite the past. I did everything in my power to change who I was back then, to be better, stronger, smarter, and this was something that could prove it."

Now that she had started, she didn't want to stop. "Fat, pimply, dumpy old me was a joke. I was everyone's friend and no one took me seriously. Need someone to set up for the dance? Ask Tifa. Need someone to work stage crew for the play? Ask Tifa. She's a sucker, she'll help anyone, anytime, anywhere."

Rolling his eyes, he lit another cigarette having finished the previous one. "I'm pretty sure high school sucked for most people."

"I knew you wouldn't get it. You had it all. Pretty girls falling at your feet, all the money in the world, parties, popularity, and you were still class president and honor roll and all that. And somehow you still found time in your day to make my life miserable." This isn't how she pictured this confrontation either, he wasn't begging for forgiveness under the heel of her shoe. The concrete was hot and she was starting to sweat a little in her dress. Rufus must have felt it all the more in his tan suit, as he had his white shirt opened at the collar. He looked too damn good, untouched by time or environment. Only the faintest hint of a frown line seemed to be forming at the corner of his mouth. "Why did you do that to me?" It was supposed to sound strong, but it just sounded tired.

He actually colored a little and glanced out at the bushes rather than into her eyes, but it might have been from the heat. No wonder he had been sitting in the shade before. It was hard to imagine a man like him had any regrets. "So you lost some weight and cleaned up your life. All this," He gestured at the school, squinting into the sun before crushing the cigarette half-finished under his shoe. "This was just a blip. This wasn't real life. We were barely real people."

"I'm pretty sure you still have girls falling at your feet and all the money in the world."

"Yeah, it's great." He said it flatly, "You coming inside or did you want to continue to feel sorry for yourself out here?"

It was tempting to run. Already she had had her big entrance, and it wasn't as if she hadn't seen Barrett a couple months ago when his second daughter was born. She wouldn't have to wear those shoes too, and her already forming blisters wouldn't yell at her. While she considered the pros and cons of wearing shoes she was startled to find Rufus above her with a hand extended.

"I have an idea," he said. "Let's fuck with them."

* * *

"Rufus Shinra," the lady at the table was clearly flustered "We hadn't expected you to come, you didn't even RSVP, but we made sure everyone had a nametag ready just in case." She reached back into a box while her table partner flat out stared at him in a way that let Tifa know he still held star power. Where was that fabled charisma? She was still wondering if maybe that's what got her to step back inside, despite her nerves.

"Tifa Tifa Tifa! Why didn't you pick up mine too when you arrived. You'd almost think you were trying to disown me." He said it in that old oily voice she hated, the one that was all about schmoozing, the one that placed her emotions right back into her teenage self. But her teenage self had never been this close to him, or imagined he'd have an all too familiar hand resting on her hip.

"Oh you!" was all she said as she pulled back from him but the punch she playfully gave to his arm had enough force behind it to make him wince.

They entered the gym, music and flashing lights in full swing, to people glancing over and whispering which made absolutely no difference to Rufus but made Tifa feel like she was moments away from a panic attack. Well, if she had come here tonight to create some drama then Rufus had just fulfilled her wish perfectly. However, the objective had not been to scandalize or impress any of these people except for one person in specific. Barrett was currently holding a squirming Marlene under one arm while talking to Cloud's pregnant lady. Cloud himself was talking with Red and she felt familiar butterflies even knowing nothing would be as she hoped now with Cloud in particular.

"I'll get us drinks and sweep in once you've set the stage." Rufus said softly into her ear, stirring her hair and making her shiver.

"This isn't an attack."

"Isn't it?" His half smile in her direction was conspiratorial.

Tifa clacked her way over on those impossible heels and planted herself firmly next to Cloud. She tapped him on the shoulder and he glanced over once and then again and he realized it was her.

"Oh." He looked her up and down, his eyes sweeping her in the way she had noticed from many people in recent years but with differences. Cloud hadn't lingered anywhere rude, he seemed to be honestly attempting to process what he was seeing with what he had known of her. Almost guiltily he glanced back at the woman he came with, and then back to Tifa.

"I haven't seen you in half a decade and all you have to say is oh?"

"You look…healthy." Had he always been this awkward? She remembered finding that endearing once. Now, his hesitation frustrated her.

"Yeah, I'm doing really well. I'm finishing up my grad school program soon and working part time. I barely found time for this, but I didn't want to miss it." Tifa wished she had bought heels just an inch taller so she would be eye to eye with him.

Rufus slid in next to her and placed a drink in her hand. It was the same as what he'd gotten himself, gin and tonic, and while she abhorred the taste of gin she took a sip and smiled just the same. "You remember Rufus right?"

Red and Cloud were staring at her open mouthed. Barrett, catching her in his peripheral vision, became distracted from his conversation and Marlene escaped. He took off after the laughing four-year-old but the look in his eyes said Tifa would be explaining things to him at some point. She reminded herself to send Marlene an extra nice godmother-y gift next birthday.

"I don't believe we've met." Rufus directed conversation at the pregnant woman. "Rufus Shinra."

"Aeris Gainsburogh-Strife."

Hyphenated, of course. Tifa didn't even flinch but she balled up some of Rufus' suit jacket in her hand as the other woman spoke.

"Congratulations, Strife. Twice over from the looks of things."

Cloud inclined his head in acknowledgement, looking shocked and betrayed that Rufus was here socializing with them. They had always hated this man together, and here Tifa was pulling off acting like they were close. This was the only way she could think of to get closure, even if it was petty, to let him know the old Tifa was gone.

"Tifa here is going to be my new physical therapist. Tragic crippling may have won the sympathy of the masses but eventually it gets old, don't you think? Still playing soldier, Strife?"

Cloud sputtered an answer and Rufus' cold polite smile slowly spread across his face. Smoothly he engaged Red in business-like talk that Red eagerly responded to, and Cloud faded into the background.

* * *

Gin and tonic tasted pretty good, she decided, when you had enough of them. Rufus hadn't mentioned paying him so she assumed drinks were on him, and he had kept them coming every half hour or so until she was buzzed enough to discard her shoes under a table at which point he cut her off.

Cloud and his wife had left pretty early, they were apparently searching for a house in town and had spent much of the day on their feet. He was going to build the happy life he hadn't had as a kid, and Tifa didn't begrudge him that. She had shocked him a little, but more importantly she felt like he thought she was a different person now. Tifa wasn't sure if she was or wasn't different but she certainly felt like a drunk person at that moment.

At some point awards were given out and Rufus went up on stage to smile and shake hands. He even made a limp look confident, it was amazing. Tifa found herself the center of attention from Rufus' former crowd as they suddenly became very interested in her with the women curious about her involvement with Rufus and the men not at all confused about why Rufus would spend time with her. She was asked where she bought that dress at least a dozen times. Eventually she escaped to spend some more time with Red but by the end of the evening she was at a table alone drinking a bottle of water and wondering why she even came to this horrible event. Getting what you want in the wrong way for the wrong reasons made her feel a little dirty. There was a lot she needed to do to work towards being a strong person and a good person, and Tifa dug out that spark in her heart that inspired her again.

"Would you like me to call you a cab, Lockhart?" Rufus appeared magically, almost. He had drifted in and out of her gravity throughout the night saying just the right things to make people wonder about them. She knew she wasn't suave enough or manipulative enough to keep something like this up on her own. The whole night had been Rufus' game, but she had benefitted so she couldn't complain.

"Just call me Tifa. You called me Tifa all night."

He gave her that handsome half smile and it looked almost sincere to her slightly buzzed brain. Drunk goggles, she told herself, sensibly.

"Tifa, after you then. Let's see this to the end."

They waited out front. The shoes were still gone and without them Rufus was much taller than she remembered. He clearly favored his right leg as she leaned on him a little for support on her bare aching feet.

"What you did for me tonight doesn't make up for four years of making my life hell, but it at least showed me you're not the Rufus Shinra I remembered."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"I never thought you were fat or ugly, Lockhart. Just the opposite actually. In fact you could stand to eat more, you're looking frail."

"Huh?" Brilliant response, she knew, but her brain still felt sluggish from alcohol and spent emotion.

"Tomorrow if you're angry I will place blame squarely on the alcohol."

Before she could ask another smart one syllable question he planted his lips firmly on hers, his arms wrapping solidly around her waist. The kiss was severe at first but when she didn't push him away immediately he softened up and Tifa felt her body melt against him. Rufus made her want everything she had been denying herself all these years, as if this kiss had been an invitation to lose control.

And then somehow she was getting into a cab while Rufus gave directions to the driver and handed him money ahead of time. She turned quickly to the rear window and watched him watch her drive away.

* * *

Yuffie squealed at a pitch Tifa _wished_ only dogs could hear.

"And he kissed you! That's so hot!"

Tifa buried her face in her couch cushion and rolled her face from side to side wondering how long it would take to suffocate herself.

"He's a hot blond too, ya know. Wooah, does he still look like this senior photo? Kinda sorta?" Yuffie had insisted Tifa pull out the old yearbooks.

"Don't you ever read the news?"

"Not the business section, yuck." Yuffie ran over to her computer. "Let's google up pictures of him!"

Tifa groaned and dragged herself over. "We are not fourteen, I do _not_ want to google him, I just want to go to class tomorrow morning and pass my quiz and forget the whole mortifying reunion even happened."

"I think it's so romantic. He loved you in high school and you never knew it!" Yuffie hit the power button and the thing turned on with a hum. As usual Tifa's desires were more like suggestions in Yuffie-world.

"Now you're just making things up. He told me I was too fat then and too skinny now. All of this is just one big mind-game he was playing because he was bored."

"Then why is he emailing you?" Yuffie sounded like she was in awe.

Tifa actually just about hip checked her friend trying to get to the email that had automatically popped up on logging in. There it was, under some spam and a forward from her father about puppies, a message from Rufus Shinra titled "Job Offer."

"He wants me to be his physical therapist." Tifa said as if Yuffie were not reading over her shoulder. "As soon as I'm done with school. His _private_ physical therapist. What does that even mean?"

"Well, it looks like he wants to discuss details at a lunch meeting next Sunday and if you don't accept I will break into your apartment when you're in class and accept it on your behalf!"

Tifa thought of that kiss they shared and her face got hot. Maybe she wouldn't be living like a nun for much longer, and she wondered at how impossible this would have seemed to her eighteen year old self or even her one week ago self.

"Ohh look, I found shirtless yacht pictures from a tabloid two years ago!"

Tifa tried to pretend like she wasn't looking.


	2. Lunch

Rufus is so dang hard to write for. Plech. Trying to stay in character for him, not sure I succeeded.

And augh, I don't think I'm _done _done with this. There's so much they couldn't say in this that I was hoping they would say. Might need a chappie from his perspective before this bunny fizzles.

They are a very prickly pair.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

Tugging at the edge skirt that matched the black suit jacket of the only interview outfit Tifa owned, she wondered what the day would hold for her other than an acidic stomach and the sinking feeling like this wasn't truly a job interview. Pretending it was a job interview had been convenient as she had slipped on nylon stockings while at the same time cursing the summer heat. Life in general, other than this day, couldn't have been better. Her internship had been going well, though it had practically only just begun, and it was weird to be working two jobs instead of the school and job balance she had originally struck. Everything was getting so real, and while her energy was zapped half the time her enthusiasm was high. She was going to live a life helping people be healthier and happier and nothing could make her feel more complete.

Then came Rufus.

What was already a stressful prospect became almost insanely nerve wracking when her friends all started to 'help' her feel better about encountering him again. Yuffie, who was sure she knew everything, thought for sure this was a date. Barrett, who remembered high school all too well, thought for sure it was a trap. Vincent, her across the hall neighbor, thought for sure she was headed to a funeral. Vincent worked nights as lead security guard for a large company and he was often arriving home as Tifa was heading out. As he offered her his condolences, his tired eyes sympathetic, Tifa realized she needed to start acting like this was something she wanted to do rather than a sentence she was serving.

Already hair was escaping the tightly wound bun she had attempted this morning, and she wondered for the hundredth time if she should cut it all off. As her only source of true vanity she spent hours with products and treatments and careful brushing only to shove it all out of sight most days. Maybe she was a female Samson and she should have just let it down instead of hiding behind some idea of formality.

"Stop fiddling with your hair and get in there, Tifa…" The doorman to the restaurant's entrance watched her with an arched eyebrow as she paced and mumbled to herself. It was noon-ish and Tifa tried not to imagine a gunfight, her on one side of a dusty street and Rufus on the other. He was probably a better shot than she was, even in her imagination.

The doorman obligingly opened the door for her as she summoned the will to continue, still giving her that look that said he wasn't too sure of her sanity. That made two of them, she thought wryly.

There were a number of tables in the center, all filled, and booths against the walls which seemed more discreetly structured. When she gave her name the host nodded politely and led her to a booth back in the corner. Barrett might have been right, she thought as her gut twisted, because this felt more and more like a trap. Rufus rose as she made her appearance, but gave no indication of knowing her other than the clipped "Ms. Lockhart" and extending his hand for a business-like shake. His handshake was a study in perfection with the perfect grip and length of time, while she knew she was a hair away from a cold sweat.

Once she had seated herself he also sat again, but she noted the almost finished drink in front of him and wondered how long he had been waiting.

"Sorry for any delay. It's been quite a morning already." Tifa knew she was a mediocre liar, so it was better to stick to technical truths and lies by omission.

"Time is always the real commodity these days. I think I can feel myself dying in the longer meetings." So dramatic, she thought, but at least he didn't seemed phased by her lateness. A waiter materialized out of nowhere and replaced his finished Old Fashioned with another. What were you supposed to drink on a Sunday afternoon? She didn't want her mind cloudy for this even if liquid courage was tempting.

"Water will be fine, please." She told the attentive server, and he disappeared with the barest murmur of assent.

Rufus indicted to her to take a look at the menu and see if anything here suited her, and she was relieved to see that nothing was described in anything she couldn't read. As she perused salads and entrees she did notice after a moment that there was no price on anything. A quick glance over the top of the menu at the other patrons showed her she should have been more observant on entering as she caught flashes of expensive jewelry and designer suits. Everyone in the room had the same sort of look—the indolence that lots of money bought. Tifa knew that she was surrounded.

"Don't see anything you like?" His eyes gave nothing away as her attention flicked back over to her table companion. Rufus was rolling up the cuffs of his white shirt to his elbows, putting aside expensive looking cufflinks in the process. It was strangely disarming, as if he were relaxing around her.

"I'm not used to having options like this." She tried to be equally vague, and his pleased smile made her want to crack her knuckles nervously. It was too nice of a restaurant to engage in that sort of thing but the urge was there. "Any recommendations?"

"Food is food, but I'm ordering the steak." He undid the buttons on his black vest and sat back to take a long drink from his glass now that he had made himself comfortable. Feeling her suit jacket strain against her chest with every breath only underlined how he had every advantage on her here.

"Salmon sounds good…" This was an opportunity to eat something she wouldn't normally be able to afford. Weeks of the same dinners, carefully budgeted and nutritionally planned, had left her craving something decadent. Seemed like denial had been the story of her life up until this lunch and she didn't want to say no to opportunity.

Her water came and their orders left. Rufus was looking at her but not saying much, and she realized this might be another intimidation tactic. She didn't come here to continue to feel lost around him, and she had some pretty significant questions for him beyond whatever this job offer thing might be.

"So what's this all about?"

"A bit early in the day for philosophy, don't you think?" He responded quickly, icy blue eyes narrowed a little.

"Ha. Ha." She wished sarcasm could bruise. "You don't need to pretend anymore. This isn't a week ago and there's no one to fool except me. And I don't want to play that part, anyway. I still can't believe I lied to all those people."

"It was a prank, around a lot of near strangers." He rolled her words around as he rolled the ball of ice around in his glass. "Would you believe that I might actually want to recover the full use of my leg?"

"Even if that's true, I'm not even qualified yet to make unsupervised recommendations."

"Maybe I'd rather go with a known than an unknown when it comes to my health." He countered.

"You've got people to research stuff like this, right? I don't think there's a whole lot you don't know about if you cared enough to ask the question." She tried to voice her concerns, but what she really wanted to ask was why he had kissed her. What was his motivation? What was this lunch?

She hadn't noticed how she had been balling her fists or how her body posture had gone rigid and aggressive until she saw Rufus make eye contact with someone and shake his head minutely. Not even pretending like she hadn't noticed the exchange, she swiveled around to see a bald man in a suit disappear back into the shadows near a corner. _Calm it down_, she told herself. _You didn't come for a literal fight_.

"Do you remember," he said, pushing his unfinished drink to the side, "graduation day?"

Tifa felt like bile rise in the back of her throat. Rushing back at her, the memory ate her up and flushed her cheeks with rage. Yes, she remembered graduation day. Everyone waiting in a forced huddle as the administrators found the teachers who were supposed to call their names for the lineup. Herding cats would have been easier. She had needed to use the bathroom and it had taken forever since there was a line. Stuck waiting, she had been an easy target when Rufus had stalked over in the ubiquitous cap and gown they were all stuck in.

"I don't remember exactly what I said to you, something horrible I'm sure, I'm good at that."

"Yes. You were." Her words were tight, clipped.

"But do you remember what you said back?"

"I said lots of stuff back, but I knew you never heard any of it. You just ignored me and walked off with your friends like always."

Rufus searched the ceiling and then met her eyes again, even though she was spitting fire. "You said 'what sort of man are you' to do what I did. There was more, but that's the part that stuck."

"Good, at least something got through." But she wasn't sure where this was going. If he hadn't hated her then why torment her? Why the hell bring all this up here and now? Why didn't she have the guts to just ask the questions instead of feel them stick in her throat?

"I've had a lot of time to think about that question, on and off, at various times." He didn't look like he was going to elaborate, and then he pulled his drink over and she _really_ knew he wasn't going to elaborate. Tifa felt like her head was going to explode.

She pointed at him, daggers in her eyes and venom practically dripping before the first syllable left her mouth when their salads arrived. Her mouth snapped shut and she forced a tight smile on her face until the server was out of range again. The initial starburst of rage had subsided into a simmer, and Rufus had the gall to look amused.

"If you asked me out here just to wind me up then I'm leaving."

"I was the man my father expected me to be." Rufus said, shaking his head. "But I think I'm beyond that these days. There are other options open to me." He was so unruffled, as if all her antipathy were being absorbed. "Given our history, naturally I'd understand if you'd like to walk out, but if I recall you said something to the tune of me changing not so long ago. I'm not sure of that, but it wouldn't be an entirely unwelcome surprise if I had."

Tifa picked at her salad and very purposefully did not look in Rufus' direction. He continued to drink his lunch. She was embarrassed that he had gotten a rise out of her, and she decided she hoped this was just a really unprofessional lunch instead of an extremely unpleasant date.

Their meals came and she was relieved to see him eat something because she was privately coming to suspect he had some issues with alcohol. Then again, if she had unlimited access to whatever she wanted from a young age then alcohol would be a relatively minor vice compared to what could have been his poison. Silence between them started to feel like a competition. She didn't want to be the one that cracked but she knew she would before long. There was too much that was both loose and raw about their association.

"You could have just ignored me, you know."

"Are we talking about last week or further back than that?"

"God, I don't even know any more." Tifa wasn't sure of just about anything now. This lunch hadn't provided any answers, only emotions and questions.

Rufus seemed more guarded now that he had had some food to temper the drink, but the words seemed to pull out of him. "You've always been hard for me to ignore."

She groaned and pulled her hair out of the now very messy bun, sick to death with all the highs and lows of the past hour. It shook out around her, and she felt like she was finally herself again. "Do you ever give a straight answer?"

"Did you ever put yourself in my place?" He asked, finally getting testy. "I'll be out front having a smoke. If you're not here when I get back I'll get the message."

Tifa opened her mouth as if she were going to retort, then thought better of it and took a drink of water instead as he eased himself out of the booth. She was an empathetic person, or so she thought, and sympathy for the devil wasn't exactly something that had been high on her list at any point in life but she never backed away from a challenge. He was running his hands through his gelled hair as he left, the bald bodyguard peeling out from the shadows to follow his stiffly limping boss. She had pity for his physical plight, but that didn't seem to be what he was intimating.

Say she was in some weird parallel world in which she had been born Rufus Shinra. Yuck. There would have been mansions and parties, ok. It was hard to imagine what a rich life was beyond material things. So she thought about her own life. A person's life revolved around parents, she figured. Her dad had always told her she was the best and he loved her, but he had been a shell of a person immediately after her mom's death. Whatever she wanted he'd tried to give her, but he hadn't been ambitious for her. She had wanted a push of some sort, and in the end she gave it to herself. What had Shinra's father been like in comparison? Ambitious certainly, critical possibly, and absent most definitely. The man was known for ruthlessness, as well as excess. How would you impress someone like that? How would you gain their approval? Dubious choices had been made on his part, but Tifa wouldn't call Rufus evil now exactly. She supposed the best she could do was reserve judgment and try to let the past stay in the past.

As he slid back into the booth, a grim look on his face, the scent of tobacco followed him like a stinky cloud. He drank too much and smoked like a chimney, and she wondered how much of this disregard for his health was consciously self-destructive. Neglecting his leg the way he had might have left irreparable damage, and it was worse if he had done it on purpose to punish himself for something she couldn't relate to.

"I'll take your job once I've got my credentials." She said, shocking him and, if she was honest, herself as well. "But I don't want any more talk of the past unless you're in the mood to give me real answers."

He looked inordinately pleased. The smile he gave her made her whole body feel hot, but she tried to blame the suit.


	3. Appointment

Just a scenelet. Don't know enough about physical therapy to see it working out the way I want to in this setting though. Seems like one or the other is going to snap soon, so huzzah for possible lime futures. I'm thinking we need some Rufus pov. Since this won't leave me alone I'm sure I'll get hit upside the head by something soon. Rufus always plays the long games...

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

When she saw the name on the chart she tried not to let the sinking feeling in her chest evolve into paralysis. Five months left, he couldn't wait five months? Tifa took a deep breath and walked out into the waiting room to greet a familiar blond man who seemed to be both expecting and enjoying her consternation. She had never forgotten about him or their deal, but it was easy to shove him to the back of her mind after the bustle of the clinic and the holidays had swept introspective thoughts under the mental carpet she hadn't vacuumed in a while.

"Mr. Shinra, follow me this way please." She wished her long ponytail could reach back and strangle him as she turned to lead him to her room for diagnosis. It had been particularly cold lately and she thought she saw him move with even more stiffness when he had crossed the room to greet her. There was no sign of a bodyguard, but then she caught the curious eye of a red-headed man in a suit not far away. His open curiosity turned into a guilty face and buried itself in a magazine immediately. The bald man had been more discreet.

"You're not going to introduce yourself and ask me silly impersonal questions to build rapport?" He followed her slowly, and she didn't look back at him fearing he would see how much he was getting to her already. Rufus occupied a special place in her mind, a place that seemed to live directly next to all her most basic fight and flight responses. Somewhere deep in her ancestry she must have had a bad experience with an icy blue eyed blond.

The office she had been working out of had been very happy with her and it sounded like if she didn't have an offer from other avenues they were open to her joining them. Working for Rufus was a sure thing, but she wasn't counting on it to pay her bills, or prodigious loans, entirely. If he was worried that she'd flake out on him, he didn't need to since Tifa was a woman of her word and she would be there for him the first day after her certification if need be.

She took out her measuring implements and began filling out her charts with notes. It was so automatic that by the time she was measuring around his hip she had fallen into comfort again, asking the usual questions about pain and range of movement, general daily activities, level of activity, etc. Routines were almost trance-like, and she even worked up a genuine smile to throw at a quietly observing Rufus.

"I know you smoke and drink often, but are there any medications you're on?"

"Smoking and drinking seems to be sufficient." He didn't meet her eyes, but he wasn't being evasive in tone. Normally she would add something about lifestyle changes improving his chances at recovery, but he knew what he was doing and it seemed like wasted air.

"No pain medication? Not even aspirin or ibuprofen?" Tifa seemed surprised, since he reported a fairly consistent level of moderate pain for things like climbing stairs and walking longer distances as the day went on.

"No." He sounded firm on that. Vaguely, she remembered that his mother had been reported to be in and out of rehab for abusing pain medication when they were younger. Maybe there was more to that than just rumor and tabloid fodder.

His button up black shirt and crisp cream pants didn't look like they would work well for the range of motion and flexibility tests she would have normally run on him. She was beginning to think he didn't own anything colorful or casual. It was entirely possible he had no idea what he needed to wear to attend an appointment like this so she would cut him slack there. Honestly he seemed only half present now that she was actually working with him like a patient.

"You wrote down that you had several surgeries, if you'll lay down a moment I'd like to test some movement. Let me know if you feel any discomfort."

His face was impassive as she slowly brought his leg around, testing for tension and watching his face out of the corner of her eye. She was in full medical mode when he finally seemed to emerge from wherever he had retreated in his mind to launch his attack.

"So what do you do if a patient hits on you?"

Like an animal caught in the gaze of a predator, she felt her whole body lock up. Rufus was still staring up at the ceiling, hands resting casually on his chest. Forcing herself to react normally, she tried to resume moving his leg and making notes while taking a casual tone with her answer.

"I politely let them know that I'm not interested."

"In exactly those words?" He tsked at her. "Seems unusually cold for you to let down a wounded man like that." There was laughter in his voice.

She wanted to grip his leg harder as her frustration grew, but she took a deep breath and continued as normal. "Well, it isn't like you gave me a specific example so I gave you a general answer."

"Specific example, hm? Well, Lockhart, let me think then." She really wished he would drop it but he seemed too gleeful that he had found a button to press to forget about it. "What if we were working together, like so, and I said: how about we meet for dinner and discuss my treatment options?"

"I would let you know that I have a wide range of times available for appointments, and I would have to pass on the invitation for the meal."

Tifa was lifting his leg up when she saw him stifle a grimace. Despite her telling him expressly to let her know when it hurt, naturally he was ignoring her in favor of acting brave. Maybe this line of questioning was to distract them both so she wouldn't notice his perceived weaknesses. She knew he hadn't wanted to do anything about his leg originally, and that his change of heart seemed suspicious even now.

"Too subtle, Lockhart. That wouldn't actually discourage the tenacious." Another grimace flashed across his face and smoothed out a moment later. "What if I said you were looking lovely today, and that shade of outrage made you look invitingly healthy?"

It was like he had predicted a blush and she tried to cover it up by turning her back to him entirely and finishing her last notes. "I would say something like those comments aren't appropriate, especially directed at a medical professional."

"You're so severe Lockhart. I'm going to guess you don't go on a lot of dates."

"That had better be one of your hypothetical examples because I'm seriously close to leaving this room and letting someone else escort you out." It stung most of all because he was right. Between having an honestly busy life and having cultivated a generally friendly but sexually unapproachable demeanor she hadn't had an honest to goodness date in what felt like years.

Rufus had sat up by the time she turned around again and they were eye to eye as he smiled at her like the cat that ate the cream. "That's how you shut a man down, Tifa." He spoke her name like a caress and she hated how much she loved it. His eyes seemed unnaturally blue, even under the fluorescent lights, seeing through her and her pretenses.

"You didn't come here today to start your treatment." She wanted it to be an accusation, but it came out weakly. Tifa shored herself up with a deep breath, straightening her shoulders.

"Then enlighten me, Lockhart." He spread his arms wide in invitation. "Tell me why I'm here."

With a dry mouth, she answered the only thing she knew to be true. "You came here today to drive me crazy. I think it's some sort of game. Like how many points can you get if I lose my temper, only you're the only person competing and there is no winner."

When he stood, immediately she knew he was trying to intimidate her as she was forced to look up at him. Physically she may have been much stronger, but there was something weirdly primitive about the psychological reaction that height inspired. Faintly, from this distance, she smelled cologne and smoke. If he leaned down just a couple inches she could imagine what he lips would feel like against hers again. Honesty with the self was not high on her list of priorities when it came to thoughts of Rufus these days, but it was impossible to ignore how very much she wanted him to close that gap in that moment.

"You're wrong, Lockhart," His breathing had sped up to match hers and she could practically feel how warm he was. "There's a winner."

He reached past her for the doorknob and suddenly his almost suffocating presence was absent. Tifa's mind emerged from a fog and she tried to refocus. Catching up to him wasn't hard and she resisted the urge to grab his hand and stop his progress down the hall. She didn't trust herself to touch him when she had been just about ready to jump him in her exam room.

"Mr. Shinra," she said trying to hide behind professionalism to regain her sense of balance "We're not finished with your appointment."

He stopped, turned to her, and gave a half-smile. "I got what I came for today."


	4. Graduation

Urrrgh, high school is the still their touchstone. I have never been fond of high school fic (nothing against it, it just isn't my thing) and somehow I've found myself half writing one. What is this!?

Anyway, finally some Rufus POV. He was a stinker for real back in the day (hey he starts out a villain right?) but most teenage boys are kind of stinkers in general.

Still working in ficlets atm but my brain is churning over a meatier chapter. Processing...

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

As he climbed onto the uncomfortable bleachers along with cheerfully talking strangers massed together in rough family groups, he slid on some sunglasses to fight the glare and eyed the sections above in the shade where he might have sat if he hadn't spent so much time trying to talk himself out of this. There was a madness of a sort in this kind of behavior, closing in on obsession, but he shoved those misgivings aside. The poison known has hope had clouded his judgment and today he would be a slave to it, as a tall wide man in a Hawaiian shirt laughed loudly and snapped some pictures in front of him.

He hadn't even attended his own graduation from college, but he figured it was similar to graduation from high school only the participants were less pimply. Smiling faces as far as the eye could see, and here he sat alone but for one of his silent bodyguards (Elena today, who was in a white short sleeve business shirt and black slacks due to his order of "come dressed casually" which she had freely interpreted). They were dressed so similarly, and both blond in sunglasses, they could have passed as twins.

"Which group do you think she's in?" Elena was scanning the crowd as well as the graduates, but her flickering gaze was keen.

"Sir, my guess would be she's among that group in front. Green hoods."

Rufus spotted the sage green group, a small cluster, near other hooded graduate students. All the tassels blew in the wind, distracting the eye, but there was one student with a fat brown braid and he suspected he knew who that might be. He saw her turn to scan the buzzing crowd, confirming her identity and forcing him to hold his breath as he half expected her to notice him. That had not been the goal, but he reminded himself that no one was going to see anything other than the jovial Hawaiian shirt in front of him. She spotted who she was looking for and waved, somewhere to the left of him her friends and family must be gathered.

The students settled down and as the ceremony began he stuck his earbuds in his head and let his phone run financial news and updates. Calls came in and he ignored them, only willing to risk basic rudeness and not interested in interrupting whatever life lessons other people were getting from the commencement speech. Around him some people looked weepy, others elated, and he was struck by how messy this all was. So much emotion at the end of the journey, and it hadn't even been their accomplishment. His own diploma sat in a box somewhere, an afterthought and mostly only present to give his qualifications some sort of legitimacy rather than imply his journey to the top had been purely nepotism.

Before long they were calling people up, and he took out the earbuds which were only delivering news to him of a labor dispute in a third world country over textiles anyway. He made a note to himself to look into buying stock if it was going to have a temporary lull from production slows, and waited for the moment he had come to see.

All the physical therapy graduates had worn the same green tennis shoes, but from the sparkles and the odd paint swathes he could even see from the stands they had personalized them. He wondered what Tifa had done with hers, but odds were good he'd never be close enough to examine them and see how revealing it might or might not be about her character.

"Tifa Lockhart…" he clapped, politely, and to the left a roaring cheer went up from her little section. Wallace had always had a loud voice, so he was probably leading that charge.

She hugged the diploma case to her chest and Rufus mopped his face with a handkerchief and cursed the sun. She was wiping tears off her face as she was taking her seat again and Rufus wondered anew why they hell he had come here today to witness this useless ritual. All the work had been done, and the work was what mattered. Why didn't people cry every time they turned in a big report? It made about as much sense to him. Oddly enough, he felt a bloom of happiness for her anyway in his chest. The names droned on, and Rufus replaced his ear buds but didn't hear anything else that was said as he fell into memory.

* * *

He had dreaded most the day every year a week before the end of classes when they all received yearbooks. As a principle he didn't sign his full name on anything so he'd usually opt for one of three or four pre-decided ambiguous phrases and his initials in print. His natural cursive, tight and hard to read, he saved for his own note writing purposes and legal documents. Everyone at school may have been his own age but he had a hard time thinking of them as peers. His yearbook was frequently asked for and he'd pass it around sociably, but never read anything people wrote to him. Rufus saw them every day, and he would see them every day following summer. In the interim he had work to do for his father, and social gatherings to attend with his mother (and sometimes on her behalf when she was too wrecked from pills to walk and talk straight).

"Rufus! Give it over man, I've still got to find a bunch more people. You're pretty easy, just look for the crowd of girls, right?" Reeve was annoyingly outspoken, but Rufus admired him from the perspective that he was at least self-made. He'd spent last summer swimming and weightlifting to effect his transformation from pale, soft and spindly to tan and muscular with drastic social effect.

"I'll see plenty of you on student council next year; you don't really need to 'find' me." Rufus said, handing over the slim glossy volume all the same. The hallway was humid as Midgar High students rumbled about trying to find one another in the chaos of the free period they'd been given for the purpose of yearbook signing. Rufus just stood near his locker, everyone was bound to come to him anyway.

A slim blond girl with bright red lipstick slid next to Reeve, running her fingers up and down his arm near his bicep. "Me next, Reeve."

"Goddam it Scarlet that's distracting." He pulled away a little bit, but she was persistent. Reeve wasn't fond of the beautiful blond, having been the butt of her jokes when he was a freshman. While his transformation had changed her ideas about him completely, he still didn't like her much. Rufus respected him for that, too. Scarlet was as sexy as any girl in this school could get but she had opportunist written all over her.

"There we go!" He punctuated his sentence with a green sharpee exclamation point and rushed off once the yearbook was in Scarlet's hands. "Hey Barrett…!"

"So what are your summer plans Rufus?" Scarlet pretended like she hadn't already tried to find out this information a week ago. Rufus wondered if she had any other hobbies besides social climbing, she was a smart girl after all.

Reeve giving Barrett and elaborate high five and handshake before laughing gave Rufus an ugly jealous feeling. He didn't have any friends he could "bro out" with, and he suspected that it would just be awkward if he tried. Something in Scarlet's favor, shockingly, was that she treated him like a normal boy as part of her tedious efforts to wind him around her finger. Having people suck up to you was something he was all too familiar with.

"Same as last year. Work. Family obligations." That vague response delivered over and over, and he had yet to have anyone ask him any deeper questions.

One of her long red nails poked him in the chest and he wondered at the contrast against his white t-shirt as he met her eye dispassionately. "Make sure you save some time for fun," she said coyly. The unspoken 'with me' was assumed, and he would consider it if it was convenient for him.

Another girl came to talk to Scarlet and ask for Rufus' yearbook and Scarlet's attention was totally overtaken by this supposed rival. The guffawing from Reeve and Wallace drew Rufus' eyes back to the boys. They were talking about baseball, both being on the team, and he could hear Wallace laying into Strife even at this distance about quitting track ('running in circles') to come play a real sport.

Rufus closed his eyes, and smoothed clammy hands down his jeans. If Strife was there then Lockhart wasn't far behind. The two were practically attached at the hip. True to form, once the tall boys started to roughhouse, Reeve putting Strife into a friendly headlock and Wallace telling him baseball would make a man of him she came into view, her laughing face slightly concerned. The baggy shirt she wore couldn't hide the strain her chest put on the fabric, and her long peasant skirt was all part of her muted color scheme. It was like she was trying to be invisible.

It never got any easier, her presence reminding him that without the money, the name, the looks he was just an emotionally cold lump of flesh with a disagreeable personality. She didn't have anything to recommend her, but everyone went to her when they were in a fix. When in doubt ask Lockhart, she would be there for anyone at any time and she worked hard. Lockhart made him feel like less of a person just by existing, and he hated feeling _less_. That his eyes wanted to linger on her curves and his hands itched to touch her was insult to injury. In his neatly ordered and planned life she was entropy. He tried to blame it on the hormones but Scarlet for all her beauty didn't entice him the way Lockhart did. Logically he knew he wasn't supposed to want her, but whatever he felt when he looked at her wasn't based in logic. And just like his father, what he couldn't have he'd rather see torn down.

"Hey Scarlet, looks like Lockhart might finally be moving in on Reeve." Sick the wolves on her, his mind screamed, but he hated himself for it at the same time. It was a joke, everyone knew she was practically pair bonded that that passive blond mess.

But even knowing all that Scarlet would have to reassert her claim. "That little…" Scarlet started to march over where Tifa was laughingly pulling at Reeve's arm (which still contained Strife's head) and he ruffled her hair fondly. She gathered her posse and Rufus stood back, watching the girls initiate.

Somehow his yearbook ended up back in his hands, and he resisted the urge to tear out all the pages. One more year in this dump, and then he wouldn't need to deal with any of this anymore.

* * *

A hand on his shoulder broke his reverie.

"Sir, we'll need to leave soon if you're going to make your next appointment." With her sunglasses on Elena's face was impossible to read. She was professional, as always, but forgetting the time wasn't like him and he could sense her hesitation at needing to touch him at all.

Rufus shook himself out of the paralyzing nostalgia he rarely allowed himself to indulge in. Not much in those memories he was proud of, so he tried not to revisit them. Mentally he sighed, but outwardly he nodded to Elena and put away his phone. When you were in the business of making money your work never seemed to cease.


	5. First Session

First of all, yes my lovely guest commentor, I did says Aerith/s was dead and can stay dead! But then we're not going to see any more of Cloud and his honey this fic. ;) "Don't bother getting her ultimate weapon" my friend said "no reason" they answered when I asked why. OMGGGGG Useless.

Rufus is unslick. Sexy as hell, but unslick. If every woman ever had thrown themselves at you for forever and you had no experience being the one who chased, how slow do you think you'd be at it? Yeah. Glacial.

Trying to decide if I continue this scenelet next chapter or go another direction, so waffley… feedback welcome!

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

The drive out was something like a scene in a movie. There were trees planted in long lines down roads that seemed too smooth to be real. That it was a fifteen minute drive past the city limits seemed bizarre. She knew the rich had their own little enclaves but to be heading towards one was not something she thought she'd ever be doing. The plush towncar had leather seats that she shifted back and forth on uncomfortably. Cream, perfectly oiled and absolutely stainless. If Tifa owned something like this she would have dropped chocolate on it, or smeared makeup somewhere and she was darn sure this car was worth the GDP of a small country.

"Are we close?"

"Yes, ma'am." The bald man only answered her questions with exactly enough words to be clear and nothing more. She sighed and looked at the ancient trees barely obscuring huge properties with their palatial houses not far in the distance.

They turned down an unmarked gated road, opening the gate with a press of a button on the ceiling of the car, and Tifa noted the house with its weird plantation-like construction and stark white paint job. Maybe the hatred of colors was hereditary? The fountain in the front was tasteful and serene, and the lawn and surrounding vegetation so manicured that weeds must die just considering to set down roots there. It took armies of people to maintain places like this, but there was no one in sight.

"Ma'am," the bald man had opened the door for her, and she slid out with her gym bag full of supplies.

"Thanks…" Tifa stuck a hair tie in her mouth and she gathered it all into a passable bun and fastened it. "So do I just head on in?" she said through her teeth as she worked.

"No, ma'am." She really hated the ma'am business, she was feeling old enough as it was. She hadn't even been carded at the bar she went to with Yuffie the night before last. Yuffie was carded for everything and every once in a while was given children's menus at restaurants, but it hardly happened anymore now that they were out of school. Tifa could have sworn she had found a grey (!) hair a few days ago, too. Time was too cruel.

"Tifa," Her eyes bulged as Rufus stepped out to meet her. It was blazing hot, being midday in late August and even in her breathable workout gear she could feel a bead of sweat run down the back of her neck. Rufus probably didn't sweat, she thought ruefully. His use of her first name had her feeling unbalanced.

"Rufus," She nodded in greeting, then pursed her lips together.

"The gym is located in the west wing. If you'll follow me we can get started."

Tifa felt like they had already started as her heart hammered in her chest, unbidden. The inside was cool, and she shivered as the air conditioning chilled her damp skin. Inside was just as unreal and perfect as outside, tasteful sculptures in sconces, art filling the walls, and plants breaking up the feeling of marble everywhere. A sweeping staircase lead to a second level, but they took a sharp right and made their way through a hallway to a set of doors.

"Did you sell the house near Midgar?" She was trying to break the ice, or make her feel like she wasn't walking into a trap of some sort.

Rufus turned to her and stopped walking for a moment. "Not exactly. It's on lease to a family, however. I felt like it might as well be making a little money rather than sit there getting dusty and depreciating. A lot of what was there was moved up here, however. This house was built for my mother while I was in college."

All she knew of Rufus' mother was hearsay and tabloid fueled rumors. Tifa must have seen a picture of her at some point, but all she could remember was skinny and blond.

"Does she live here too?" _Please say I'm not alone with you_, was what her brain supplied in addition.

His face twisted ever so slightly before he turned from her and kept walking. "She remarried not long after my father's passing. I visit her occasionally."

They eventually emerged into a room that occupied the end of what she assumed was the "west wing" and the windows gave a lovely view to the field outside. There were free weights, a treadmill, and some various weightlifting machines. It was a surprisingly complete gym considering Rufus didn't act like he was particularly eager to work out.

"I can see you didn't expect this. The only thing here that I ever used regularly at any point was the treadmill, and my bodyguards requested the rest of this nonsense. They live in shifts periodically and it's convenient."

Standing there in the sunlight, his hair lighting up like gold, he looked almost godly. It was absolutely ridiculous that she was here with him, that she had agreed to private therapy, that she had allowed him to bring her to the house for it instead of her workplace, and that her fingers were twitching with the need to touch that hair that had escaped onto his forehead.

"You need to change," she blurted out to distract herself from the other things wandering through her mind. His eyebrow arched and his mouth quirked into a smile. "You can't work out in what you have on. Don't you own a t-shirt or some sweatpants or something?"

The idea that he owned sweatpants almost seemed ludicrous.

Rufus met her eyes and didn't break contact as he slowly strode back towards her from the center of the room where he had ben standing. "Then why don't you get set up and I'll find something more appropriate."

Once he was out of the room Tifa took a deep breath, as if she had more oxygen coming to her lungs when he wasn't around. This was a lot more challenging than she had expected it to be. Her body did all sorts of funny things in Rufus' presence, and she needed to regain a sense of control.

She took out her water bottle first and took a long draw, then spread out her notes. After going through them to remind herself what she wanted to accomplish today, she grabbed the directions she would leave for Rufus. Compliance was normally pretty low between sessions, but she'd always try to empower any of her patients to take action on their own.

Rufus reappeared in a white t-shirt and some running shorts that hit mid-thigh. Imperfectly suppressing a snort she noted how _pale_ he was. She wasn't exactly a tan sun baby herself, but at least her skin had seen the sun this summer. Tifa supposed there wasn't much opportunity to tan in a boardroom.

Noting the direction of her amusement Rufus gave a little frown before smoothing his expression out glassily. "As I said, weightlifting isn't my forte."

"Don't get me wrong," Tifa said quickly, realizing he had taken her reaction in entirely the wrong way. "I just think you might need some vacation time in the sun… vitamin D is important for mood regulation and general health." That sounded so lame. She hadn't been here thirty minutes and she was already putting her foot squarely in her mouth.

_Make it all business, Tifa_, she told herself. "Alright, the first few sessions we're just going to work on pure flexibility and then we'll move to flexibility and strength. With greater range of movement you'll experience less pain from tightness."

As per usual, once she was explaining and modeling the exercises she felt totally confortable and in control. Rufus did everything dutifully, listening to her carefully but asking no questions. If he didn't do it right the first time he was simply do it over and over again until he hah succeeded. The only time he looked like he was out of temper during the hour and half they spent together was when he was attempting to touch his toes. She saw a dark fury cross his face but she had seen things like that before. He was thinking about the past, how this didn't used to be a painful struggled to do something so simple, and he was angry at himself or the world. So Tifa kept his mind off of things by prattling on about her life.

"…which was how we found out my neighbor Vincent hadn't had a birthday party in seven years. Yuffie thinks we'll have one put together on his behalf next week. The funny part is that we refuses to tell us what actual day it is. Two more and you can stop."

"Are birthdays that important to you?" he grunted through his sets.

"Of course! There're not many opportunities to bring people together like that. A friend a city over might not see you all the time, but people make extra effort for birthdays. It's like a holiday for friends." She glowed, thinking of the last time she and Yuffie had decorated her apartment with streamers only to find paper scraps everywhere for months after. It had been like she tp-ed her own apartment only more colorful.

Rufus had at least proved to her that he could sweat. He had thrown himself into every task she set for him, and she thought it was admirable. For someone who hadn't been very enthusiastic about physical therapy he was giving the proverbial 110%. After that disastrous meeting a few months ago, she never would have pegged him as a perfect patient.

"Great, grab some water and I'll get everything together." She tossed a small towel at him, which he caught and smiled ruefully at her.

"Yes, coach."

"I wasn't too hard on you, was I?" She was disinfecting everything before packing up, and working oddly slowly. It was almost like she didn't want to leave, but their time was up and he was at his limit. Nothing more to do today.

Rufus didn't answer right away, he just took a long drink from his plastic water bottle and shook his head. He was going to ache tomorrow, she guessed. A lot of those muscles hadn't been worked and stretched in a long time.

"If you're fine with waiting for me to clean myself up, then I could give you a tour…" He proposed it almost haltingly, like he hadn't expected he would say it.

"Uh." Tifa stumbled over her response. "Sure. This place already seems like a museum."

"You're not the first person to say that." Rufus stood up slowly, refusing the arm Tifa offered him. "My father often complained about not being able to touch anything but the banister on the first floor."

This was so companionable like this, so close, and now that they were done with the business portion of her visit it all seemed far too _intimate_. In another world he might have been that handsome man at the gym, talking to her. But she was also so aware that he was her _client_ and that Rufus didn't do anything without having purpose to it.

"Rude can show you back to the foyer." As he opened the door they startled the large bald man who was stooped over and petting a hugely fluffy black tom cat. The man stood up like his spine was suddenly a steel rod. The cat gave them all a lazily judgmental stare before trotting off.

Tifa watched Rufus leave and chewed at her lower lip thoughtfully. Unreasonably, she wished she had brought something to change into besides her track pants and soccer jersey. She should have said no and gone straight home, but the way he had invited her had seemed vulnerable and vulnerability was so out of character for Rufus she never would have expected it. Had it been genuine or calculated? That was a hard question to answer without being privy to his thoughts.

If her business here was the therapy session and the session was complete, then why was she staying? This kind of inconsistency stunk of hypocrisy. _Strictly professional, huh?_ She laughed at herself in her own head. _So this is how you act when no one is around to see you_.

Guiltily, she remembered Rude was in the room, and turned on her smile. "Rude, is it? Is that your first name or your last name?"

"This way, ma'am."

Rolling her eyes she followed him back to the entrance.


	6. A Birthday

Couldn't find a birthday so I'm pretending that Rufus was a Valentine's Day present. Heh heh. Now when you meet someone with a birthday in mid-November you might have a giggle in your brain just like me…

Needed some luls so here's some comedy (my kind of comedy, though, to warn you!)

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

"Happy birthday…" Tifa tried to put a smile on but her nervousness was practically palpable. Yuffie pushed past her with a look of pure mischief and stuck out her hand. Her handshakes were notoriously vigorous.

"Nice to meet you finally, I've heard absolutely nothing about you. Her mouth is like a steel trap when it comes to clients." Yuffie shook Rufus' hand energetically while he gave her that condescending grin she often got from men. Tifa knew some of Yuffie's bluster was an act. The girl would act totally ditzy and innocent right up until the point you realized she had gotten away with murder. "You're taller than your pictures would suggest."

Tifa smiled a little at that. He was slumping his shoulders to the side less now that his limp was not as pronounced. A few months in and already he seemed more physically confident (as if he lacked confidence!). Some of the scar tissue might need special treatments, but at least with greater flexibility he had much less pain.

Self-consciously, Tifa pulled at the long sleeve of her navy dress. Somehow Yuffie had convinced her to wear this off the shoulder piece that had been sitting in her closet for ages. It had been bought on a whim ages ago on sale and never put to use, but she was firmly regretting how cold her shoulders and neck felt as they stepped out of the snowy weather and into his foyer.

"Lockhart," He surveyed her with the same look he usually gave his printed exercise regimen for the two weeks between their sessions: considering. "I'm so glad you could make it after all the trouble you had finding the time in your schedule."

Yuffie was about to say something when Tifa stomped her foot quickly with one booted foot and watched her stifle a yelp instead. Smiling wide with innocent eyes she just mumbled, "Yes, I was lucky that I had something open up at the last minute."

They filed in and checked their coats with Reno who looked totally bored by the whole business. "Elena's back with the kitchen staff. She said she's there checkin' to make sure there's no food tampering but I think she's just samplin' stuff." He grumbled. Tifa knew that's exactly what Reno wanted to be doing, and knowing him he's find a way to sneak back for some snacks anyway.

"Just be glad you're not out there parking cars like Rude." Tifa took their tickets and stowed them in her clutch before turning back to her friend who looked like she wanted _all _the explanations and that they better be good.

The strains of some string ensemble were filtering through the thick doors that led to the largest parlor and Tifa took them sharply left into it. Men and women in designer clothes were sipping drinks and chatting. Waiters with small trays of food were circulating and Yuffie grabbed four large crab cakes before allowing Tifa to pull her into a corner with an unoccupied bench. It was right next to a huge glass window and far too drafty for most people on a cold day like today. A middle-aged lady with a fur stole and fart too much makeup laughed loudly next to them, startling Tifa as they passed, but she just barreled through the crowd to their destination. Somehow Yuffie had wine in hand when they arrived.

"I guess I'm glad you chose to wear those knee high boots instead of the heels I picked out for you." Yuffie popped a crab cake in her mouth, but kept talking anyway, spraying it as she was saying "So except for quite literally washing your hair what's this big thing that you managed to get out of the way for this party? Hmmmm?"

Tifa wanted to sink into the floor. "I was going to say no, I had prepped it so that he wouldn't take it personally, but the more I thought about it… it's a birthday. Birthdays are important."

"Right. I can see that he's invited a couple hundred of his bosom buddies." Another crab cake disappeared into Yuffie's mouth.

It was hard to put into words why she valued these events so much, but she knew it came from the big deal her father had made about every one of her mother's birthdays when she was sick. Then all the focus had been on Tifa and her birthday had been the big family event. Other holidays weren't as happy when her mom passed, but this was something that always celebrated life and it took away the sting of absence. Even Rufus deserved to have his life affirmed.

"You better slow down, since you're the one that wanted to wear white silk. I can see some crab on it already." Yuffie just smiled and guzzled some wine. "Look at that lady over there, I think she's going to fall out of her top."

Yuffie barely spared her a glance, "Nah, they're fake. Those aren't going anywhere. But look at that guy, he's about to spill his drink down her front because he's not paying attention to anything but, heh, her front."

The inevitable spill and the humorous exchange of apologies followed by the lady storming off kept their interest briefly, but the room was too full of people and they were both too hungry so they started to circulate. People watching and incidental conversations with strangers kept them busy the first hour, but as the evening wore on Tifa unconsciously began to give the tour that she herself had been on only a few months before.

"See that piano over there? No one in Rufus' family ever played but his mom insisted that cultured people owned expensive pianos so there it is. Concert pianists would die to play that and it's just detuning in the corner." Rufus' turns of phrase were escaping her mouth, and she thought of that first tour with a smile. He'd told her so much, and yet nothing at all. They moved from the music room into another adjoined space. "This was supposed to be the day room but when it got built they faced the whole building the wrong direction so it doesn't get any light until just about sunset. Apparently his mom refused to admit this was an oversight and didn't buy good lighting to compensate."

The soft light in there now seemed to be sufficient, since it got dark so quickly this time of year. Since they weren't by windows any longer the heat and humidity were starting to get to her. All the people drinking and eat, talking and laughing. Glad she had opted for a tight bun, Tifa anticipated the frizz that would be building like a halo around her. Yuffie's hair was always fashionably short and messy so it was entirely possible she actually rolled out of bed like that in the morning. Very few people seemed to understand how long hair was more like a lifestyle choice than mere esthetics. They stopped a man with a tray of some sort of filled mushroom and Yuffie ditched her empty wine glass in a corner while they munched.

"You have to see this, though," Tifa ushered Yuffie to the corner of the room where a large portrait was partially obscured by the window draping. "Check out this picture." As it was the first time she saw it she wanted to burst out laughing. Done in hyper realistic style, the oil painting was a family portrait but they were all in formal wear. Rufus' mother was sitting in an antique chair with some diaphanous pink thing that had been in style when they were younger but made her look like an anorexic fairy, and Rufus' father (looking far less portly than had always been the case) was glowering in his tux. Rufus was staring straight ahead, expression carefully neutral, but there was no way he had been happy to have to pose for this. He looked about sixteen and other than a couple inches of height he hadn't changed a bit.

"It's like looking into a mirror," Came a voice close to her ear. In the din Tifa never would have noticed him behind them and he caught her unaware. She yelped, backing up right into him, and just about stepping on his glossy black dress shoes. His hand caught her at the elbow and she noticed he was freezing cold, probably from standing next to the door and greeting people up to this point. Rufus' cool fingers slid down her arm until she righted herself and pulled away, hoping he'd mistake her blush for a reaction to the heat. She had wanted so badly to continue to lean into him and impulses like that needed to be squashed.

"Mother never insisted we sit for a portrait ever again after that, but good old dad said we paid so much for it there was no way we weren't displaying it. What you don't see is that this was done in August and we were sweating in those suits even with the A/C on." He seemed so real for a moment, almost like a regular guy, and Tifa smiled at him, happy to share in the family joke. All at once it was like a switch flipped and his vocal inflection turned rehearsed and plastic. "How are you enjoying the party? If anything isn't meeting your expectations then by all means let me know."

"Tifa's been giving me the tour and we're snacking all along the route. There is one place I'm interested in right now." Yuffie looked at Tifa out of the corner of her eye. "Which way to the bathroom?"

* * *

"I did _not_ look like I was going to swoon. People don't swoon, women in novels swoon."

Yuffie was washing her hands and picking at the spot of crab cake that was indeed ingrained in her silk shirt as Tifa had warned. "Well you sure didn't look like you hated him. I couldn't tell if you wanted me or him to leave, so I gave us a strategic retreat. You could have stayed with him to chat it up."

"And what would we talk about?" Yuffie just ignored Tifa's surly reply.

Rufus had directed them to the upstairs suite of rooms that had been his mother's. They contained a large bathroom that he assured them would not have a line unlike the downstairs ones. It was very peachy pink inside, feminine in that way that reeked of old expensive perfume and lack of presence. The room they walked through that had been his mother's was essentially empty, and the bathroom was as well barring some hand soap and toilet paper. When his mom had left she had packed up all her worldly goods. If he visited her at her new home, she was not returning the favor.

Yuffie hopped onto the counter and dried her hands on her forest green pants while Tifa washed her flushed face and reapplied her now smudged makeup. "You obviously want him so you should just sleep with him and stop acting like you're all indifferent."

Tifa stopped the path of her lipstick before it made it to her ear, but by the time her brain had caught up to what Yuffie had said she couldn't decide if she was in agreement or totally indignant that Yuffie would suggest such a thing. Anger was always the first response to something she didn't want to hear. Capping her lipstick firmly and stowing it in her clutch, Tifa grabbed a handful of toilet paper and started to remove the wayward lipstick. She was still trying to form words in her mind to respond when the opportunity seemed to pass.

"C'mon." Yuffie, true to form, was uninterested in conflict, especially conflict she had started. "Let's get back down there. I'm hungry still." She jumped off the counter with a little bounce, kitten heels clicking, and fluffed her hair up before giving herself an approving nod in the mirror.

Slices of cake were circulating when they got downstairs. There had been no singing of happy birthday, no wishes made, just blasé conversation while women politely accepted the cake and took exactly enough bites to correspond with their diet plans. There were three kids of cake so Yuffie had four slices in total to Tifa's one. Tifa kept telling Yuffie that her metabolism was going to give up on her someday but she had been saying that for years now and there was no sign of it letting up.

Yuffie's words were slowly smoldering in her brain. Yes, she found him attractive, but there were very good reasons why she wasn't allowing his mild flirtations with her to progress. First of all, he was her client and it would be inappropriate. Second of all, he was probably just going to sleep with her and forget about it and she didn't want to be one of the many women he had used and thrown to the side. She wasn't sure she could dissociate sex with emotion, which is why she had avoided one night stands like the plague.

But then she thought of how long she had been the 'sexless wonder' as Yuffie had called her, (or 'prude' if she was feeling unkind like when Tifa yelled at her when she had emerged from Vincent's apartment one morning as Tifa had left for work). Without intimacy, without sex, she felt like she was becoming the very cold and robotic person she accused Rufus of being. Her life was satisfying and successful on all fronts except when it came to sex and it seemed like she was looking on herself like a lost cause. Cloud wasn't the end all be all, and she had waited for so long for him maybe all she knew was waiting. How did someone act when the only passion they had ever felt was unrequited? It was frustrating and confusing, and she couldn't keep blaming Cloud if she wanted something different than what she had built for herself.

Designated driver or no, Tifa felt like all of this just didn't matter anymore. What was she holding out for? No prince was coming to sweep her off her feet and maybe something casual was exactly what she needed. After three glasses of champagne in quick succession she was almost certain that something casual was a great idea. Rufus had obviously been after something from her for a while, and he didn't appear to have any girlfriend at the moment so maybe she should just grasp the opportunity. It wasn't like he wanted to marry her. Maybe if they slept together then he'd stop acting so weird around her.

She'd have to quit her job first, of course, said the fourth glass of champagne. Some values couldn't be compromised. Yuffie was talking to a silver haired man about something he seemed to find hilarious, and Tifa saw her chance to go find Rufus and let him know the new plan. Alcohol was amazing, it made everything so clear. She should open a bar so she could spread truth to the world.

A healthy number of people had left the party as midnight was approaching and Rufus was at the door once more, slightly rumpled having been in his tux all night but looking remarkably sharp. He saw her marching towards him and gave her a squinting glance and a frown before the mechanical smile returned to his lips.

"Tifa," His eyes darted around. "Where's your friend?" He must have caught on to her state because his eyes were tracking the wobble of her body as she tried to remain balanced on her boot heels. "I'm sure Tseng could be located to escort you home." He gave some sort of signal and Rude disappeared into the house from the corner he had been occupying nearby.

"I'm not going home tonight." She told him calmly, as if it were obvious.

"Well, you're not driving like that, that's true."

"I quit. You can find a new physical therapist, I don't want to be your employee." She said it firmly, confidently. With pleasure she noticed his bald surprise which he contained shortly after it spread across his face.

Rather than argue, he considered her carefully and smiled once again with his eyes almost silver in the low light. "I thought our arrangement was proceeding acceptably under the terms of the contract… I think tomorrow you should think things over and tell me if you still want to dissolve our association." Was he angry? He seemed angry. Why was he angry?

"You don't get it!" Tifa jabbed him in the chest with her finger, seeing him flinch a little at the strength she put behind it. "I _have _to do this." _Just sleep with him_! Yuffie's voice echoed in her effervescent brain.

He sounded completely icy as he looked down at her, a sneer beginning to form. "You were very good at pretending tolerance up until now, and I suppose I should compliment your professionalism-mph!" It was a pretty sub-standard kiss she planted on him, she thought, but it was mostly his fault for not participating in it at all. When she pulled away she noticed she had left a smear of lipstick on his face and began to try to remove it with a thumb from the corner of his lip. It was not his color at all.

"Whoa! Ok, rummy let's get you home before you assault anyone else. You're lucky she's not a violent drunk!" Yuffie slipped under one of her arms and bodily propelled Tifa forward, frantic look on her face. "Thanks for the party! Food was great! C'mon Tif!" Yuffie, with admirable strength and skill, just about pushed her outside where Tseng was waiting by the door with Yuffie's yellow hybrid.

"What the hell Tifa!" Yuffie said once they were in the back seat of the car, as she shook her by the shoulders. "When I said you should go for it, I didn't mean _tonight!"_

Tifa's jumbled brain tried to make sense of the past few hours but all she really knew was that she hadn't accomplished the thing she had set out to do, and she had forgotten her coat.


	7. Target Shooting

Been on a crazy Labyrinth fanfic reading binge otherwise would have had this out sooner. Everyone went "ahhh! Alcohol!" last scene, but I'm not giving her the gift of a blackout don't worry. Truthiness and consequences! Tifa's agonizing and self-recriminations would be too old hat. But you knew she's hating herself right now.

Short one again. Hopefully sweet. Seemed natural to end the thought there but I'm already thinking about what happens next. For a completed fic it's not so finished. I should actually change the status…

All your lovely comments fueled the muse (i.e. forced me to update from some secret performance driven spark of crazy), so thank you!

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

It would have been romantic to say that the whole incident had made him sleepless, but mostly it made him distracted. As he was pulling at his bow-tie and climbing into the shower at 2am to get the stale smell of sweat and cologne off his body before he slept he was thinking of her. The weak winter light that peeked through the curtains and awoke him after a dreamless sleep were greeted with curses, morning breath, and faint thoughts of her. Breakfast was tasteless as he scanned his laptop for stock updates and her mercurial drunk face slid through his mind's eye. He didn't usually go to the office on Sundays, but he had held it as an outside possibility until her words from last night interrupted his mental day planning.

"Get the traps ready." Tseng quietly left to notify Reno who was the one who had the most experience prepping the skeet shooting range.

It was snowing outside, but not heavily. Rufus put on some waterproof ankle-high steel toed boots, and his heavy grey wool pants and coat. Goggles, ear protection, rounds, and shotgun in hand he walked a straight line towards the semi-circle that would have been impossible for anyone else to spot out in the field on his property in this climate. Only Rufus would have known where the arc lay from years of practice there. The two huts that contained the traps would fire the clay discs and he would shoot them down and then all would be right with his world again. Everything seemed clearer when he had a target to shoot at.

Stations 1 through 3 on the arc went beautifully. Reno gave a whoop from the side of the high house as the clay pigeons were obliterated. Then Rufus missed at the 4th station and cursed under his breath, white mist escaping from him as he breathed deeply to calm the boiling in his mind. Those controlled breaths made his lungs feel like they were full of glass. The cold wind chilled him as he stood there, unmoving, shotgun resting easily in his hands like he had been born with it. Even when he didn't get to play normal sports Rufus showed his father that he could excel at anything he was tasked with before he died. Shooting had been gentlemanly, and it was more interesting than golf. Success at shooting came as easy as breathing to him.

_Then why the hell was he failing with Lockhart?_

Every time he thought he saw an opening and he took his shot, she slipped through his fingers. Things had been going so well at first. He could tell she was reluctant but receptive, and the first time they had kissed… it felt like it had been eons but when she had planted one on him last night it was as if every dormant hormonal response in his body had fired at the same time. He had equally wanted to shake her and make love to her all night and before he could act on anything she had been swept up and away. Had that been the opening? Had he failed to even get a shot off before she flew away?

He gave the signal to Reno to fire the next set and stations 5 through 7 were as normal as could be. It wasn't his aim, or his technique. It would have been impossible to know what was causing her to balk, but he felt it had to be about timing. Timing was important, and some of that was simply a matter of practice. He turned the pigeons at station 8 to dust, and affirmed in his mind once more: it had to be the timing. Slowly he made his way to take the shot from station 4 again, waiting patiently for the whir and the spike of adrenaline as he identified his target.

Reshoot the first missed target, his mind echoed, and he paused to think after the clay exploded and littered the snow again.

Reno waved at him, pointing and nodding his head which was his way of asking if Rufus wanted another go. Half smile creeping up his face Rufus nodded once and walked back to station 1. Of course he wanted another go, nothing but perfection was tolerable.

* * *

Not everyone left things behind due to forgetfulness. Some of those coats held invitations or propositions (a few of them literally on notes in pockets) from hopeful men and women both looking to gain his attention or his money. Some of the offers were sexual but most of them were really about power and control. The rare party at his house offered an opportunity that many of the more aggressive in his set would not allow to pass by, and he passed no judgment on their gumption. Laid out carefully by Elena, there was real fur and fake, bespoke and designer, but the practical down hiking jacket he all to readily recognized had him pausing. For once he wasn't sure what to do because he didn't know where the first missed target might be, but he did see opportunity even if he was unclear as to what the opportunity was.

"Any of them that have identifying materials send back to their owners, donate the rest." Elena nodded, pinning notes to jackets and coats. If she noted that he took the hiking jacket with him she knew well enough not to comment or ask questions. Tseng might have asked him a question, but it was unlikely he would be so indiscreet.

Picking up his phone Rufus dialed a number he hadn't had reason to for quite some time. The jacket squished in a satisfying way under his fist, down poking him as he caught a feather at an odd angle, and he resisted the weird urge to smell it. Some impulses were too creepy even for him to give in to, but he noted silently to himself that the thought had crossed his mind with some chagrin.

"Do you know what time it is?!" Came an annoyed voice on the other side of the line.

"Want me to look it up for you?"

"Goddam, Rufus, what is it that couldn't wait a few more hours?" Reeve had been halfway across the world running his foreign headquarters for years. Most emails started and ended with him complaining about being tucked away in a desert, but he had asked for the placement looking into more efficient solar cells. All things considered, he was prospering and so was the company R&amp;D. Best hiring decision Rufus had ever made.

Ascending the stairs briskly, sweating into his wool clothes, Rufus tried to find a way to articulate his problem to the only person he knew who might have some perspective. "You know that reunion you missed a while back?"

"Yeah yeah, couldn't be helped. I tried to set up a video chat station with that darn committee but they refused! Couldn't believe it. It would have been cool but they said talking to a disembodied head would be awkward… people remote into meetings all the time!"

Rufus cleared his throat, unsure of how to phrase this next part as he walked down the hallway to his room. "Remember Tifa Lockhart?"

The other side of the line went silent, and when there was a crackle Rufus wondered if they had lost their connection, then the guffawing from the other side of the line began in earnest. Reeve was laughing! And not just laughing a little but loudly and directly into the headset which was shot through with static. Rufus thought seriously about demoting his oldest friend out of pique, but he knew he had asked for this. He had never called Reeve about anything personal before, or at least not this personal.

"Let me guess, you saw one another at the reunion and now you want to confess your undying lust and she thinks you're something she needs to scrape off the bottom of her boot. Tifa Lockhart! By holy, there's someone I haven't thought of in a while." Rufus was grinding his teeth, and he hoped it wasn't too audible. Reeve had a fat mouth but when he finally focused he was ingenious. "You don't have a chance in hell, buddy. She hated your guts, and for good reason. She must be pretty hot now if you've got your eye on her."

Hearing Reeve's dispassionate, and highly skewed, assumptions was beyond annoying. He didn't call him just to be made fun of. Reeve was a world class engineer and had a memory like no other, it was time to put it to use. "You were friends, if I recall."

"Yeah, she was a cool girl. Never got why you had it out for her…"

This had been a stupid idea. He didn't even want to ask the question because it felt like a failing as a human being as well as a man. The words strangled in his throat and he let the silence stretch out between them to the point of discomfort.

Reeve's voice was still static filled as he wearily volunteered what he thought would help. "Rufus, whatever this is about, if Tifa's involved then the first thing you better do is apologize. Trust is her currency. And I don't think she's trusted you since day one." That was the big revelation? It was not what Rufus wanted to hear. "Now I'm going to get back to making you money."

"You mean sleeping," Rufus countered, grateful as always that Reeve was canny enough to know what he needed to hear without voicing it. Demotions could wait for another day. They both hung up and Rufus stripped out of his shooting clothes, discarding it all on the floor. He rubbed his eyes, feeling exhausted with the prospect before him. The jacket lay next to him on the bed and he wondered if lust alone would make him this driven, and he knew that Reeve's accusation was unfounded there. He didn't want a one night stand with Lockhart. Well, he didn't _just_ want a one night stand with her. It terrified him that the prospect of her approval excited him even more than the thought of her under him. Making a disgusted noise he threw one of his boots across the room and turned on the television.

Sometimes the first missed target was early in the game.

* * *

She was moving bleachers with Strife out of the corner of his eye. They were putting their backs into it, huffing as the ancient metal things collapsed into themselves. The speeches were over and the new student body president was shaking Rufus' hand and letting him know how much he admired what he had accomplished in the past year. He heard the words but they travelled through a different wave in his mind, translating it into a personality profile for the hapless junior. Weak, asking for support and acceptance, this kid was going to get steamrolled by his vice-president Scarlet next year. It was going to be a relief to be away from her, frankly, as her machinations had only gotten more aggressive now that he was off to college in a few months.

"Good luck. And just remember you're not in trouble if she's yelling at you, but you might be if she suddenly stops." The poor kid looked confused as Rufus gestured at Scarlet and walked away. That had been the most compassionate advice he could offer.

Barrett and Strife were working on the last one ("Put your back into it bean-pole!") while Tifa was resting, red-faced, near the water fountain in the gym. Summer had come early and the gym was like a sauna. He wanted to walk straight out and into the mess of people scrambling to have lunch but his legs carried him over to the drinking fountain even though he wasn't thirsty. She seemed to shrink into a protective ball, eyebrows drawn and eyes down as he took a long drink. He was moving away from her, brain humming with self-recrimination for even being near her when she blurted out at him.

"Not going to say anything?" She was defiant, looking up at him with those huge brown eyes. Her eyelashes made her hateful stare look almost shy, and her long hair was mussed and draped around her shoulders. With her face flushed that way he could almost pretend it was passion instead of hate and something dark and grasping coiled in his belly.

"You're not worth the breath." He said calmly, but inside he was seething with need and guilt at himself for all his weakness when it came to her.

"You're so…" Those brown eyes he could fall into if he let himself watered a little and she stood up and pushed him away from the fountain, just about knocking him into the wall. She took a drink, defiantly, before gracing him with a sneer. "I wish people like you didn't exist."

Senior year had made her stronger. A year or two ago she would have run away crying. He was proud of her, perversely, for standing up to him now. She wiped a hand across her face as she ran to Barrett and Strife, but her laugh echoed in the gym by the time she had reached them. Barrett had found something gross under a bleacher and seemed to be daring Strife to smell it. Idiots.


	8. An Apology

Time to pay the piper!

Names don't usually play a huge role for me in how people address each other, but they make a difference here. I just wanted to mention that the way they address one another and even think about one another is deliberate. That it's in flux for both of them is important.

The muse hit today. Need to think a bit about the next scene so it might take some time. Rufus thinks he's off the hook. Well... I'm not that nice :) And Reeve is smarter than Rufus thinks.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

Preparation was something Rufus' father had not done well in many respects. Raw power, the rule-breaking and chance taking attitude you needed to build an empire was not the same set of skills you needed to maintain one. His patience came from his mother. She knew how to wear down the mountain and she was very good at getting what she wanted. If his father had power his mother had guile. Rufus was neither of them, and the longer he knew them the less he liked them, but he had respected them both and he had been a quick pupil for their lessons. His parents had been neither good nor evil, but they were effective people and that was sometimes confused for evil in their selfishness. He tried to take their strengths and avoid their weaknesses. His father's greed for everything, (food, women, money) made him dissolute and corpulent, and his mother's addiction made her only half involved in her own life. Rufus made himself an island out of self-defense.

Go in with a goal, be prepared, don't take no for an answer… all the stupid advice you could get out of books but living it was more subtle. The papers against his chest crinkled and he took steadying breaths as he tried to go over his strategy again. She wasn't going to come to him, he knew that much. Tifa was reactive, but not aggressive.

"This is it boss," Rude found a parking spot and started to walk with him towards her building.

Once they reached the building door Rufus told him to wait in the car, and the large man shifted on his feet. That he hesitated at all made Rufus' eyes narrow dangerously. Rude was there to protect him and Tifa posed no danger, and the other reason his bodyguard might hesitate wasn't pleasing to consider. Too well trained for Rufus to have to give the order twice, Rude lumbered back to the car.

He needed time to think, so he took the stairs. His leg was screaming at him after the third story but Rufus continued forward anyway. It was calculated, in its own way. She was too soft not to let him sit if he was in pain and she would know if he was faking. Meanwhile he tried to form the words of an apology a decade too late and he still couldn't imagine it.

Schooling his breathing before he knocked on her door, Rufus wondered if all this was useless energy. Lockhart didn't know it but she had more pull with him than she could imagine, and he didn't know if he wanted to give away the advantage so easily. What would she do with access like that? He knew what he would do, but he was immensely relieved she was an entirely different beast than he was. Kind. Vulnerable…

He knocked on her door.

…And surprised to see him. His predatory instincts fired deliciously at her terror. Those were the looks he knew from mergers and buyouts, and it usually meant he had won before he shook the first hand.

* * *

The knock was a few minutes late, which was unlike Rude, but Tifa had counted every one of those minutes with a pit of dread yawning beneath her. It was time for the scheduled appointment with Rufus and her ride was here. There had been no email, no phone call, no sign at all from her maybe-employer about her antics last week. At what she was often referring to as her _normal_ job she had been half present, waiting for a shoe to drop that didn't seem like it was ever going to unless she did something. Restless sleep, an acidic stomach, and nerves that had her half jumping at every turn were all her own doing and she wasn't about to blame Rufus. But she really wanted to blame Rufus, so blamed him for every little thing that went wrong in her day.

_All he did was invite you to a birthday party._ Yuffie pointed that out to her many times as she cursed his Shinra name. It wasn't that simple! In a lot of ways it felt like she was walking in old circles, waiting for him to show his true colors again. It was always a false security he gave her, this patient, diligent, interesting man she interacted with versus the man she thought he was. Tifa had half a mind to let Rude know she wasn't up to taking the drive through this snowy weather. A slight thaw had only caused sheets of ice to form on treacherous roads once temperatures dropped again and she had been forming the excuses in her mind as she watched them salt the streets this morning.

"Good morning, Ru—" Her voice choked itself off as the tall stoic bald man she had grown fond of teasing for his continued silence was not there. In his place, looking slightly flushed in his thick grey coat, was Rufus Shinra standing alone in the cold hallway. He had her favorite winter jacket under one arm.

"Good morning, Lockhart." Rufus didn't wait for the invitation as he strode confidently into her living room. She smoothed hands over the plain long sleeve t-shirt she wore over her jeans—he always seemed almost glamorous with his nice clothes and easy confidence. Pushing those thoughts away, she had enough sense to note his stiff walk and she suspected he had taken all 5 flights of stairs up to her apartment rather than use the elevator. That would be just like him.

While Tifa was not embarrassed of her apartment, Rufus' sudden invasion made her self-conscious of the state of it. It had been a few days since she had taken a vacuum to the single large carpet, and there were empty water glasses around. Her half-full mug of coffee was cold now and sitting squarely on the table in front of the couch. A cheap replacement jacket lay over the back of her recliner and her email was glaring from the lit computer screen in the corner. The kitchenette was clean and the door to her bedroom was closed, so there were small mercies in the world.

Even though there was a lot to say she didn't know how to say it, so she fell back on the old standards. "Have a seat, I can get you something to drink if you're thirsty. I have coffee I can heat up, or tea." Kicking him out crossed her mind, but she couldn't avoid this forever. She couldn't even avoid this for a week!

At first she thought he might say no but after those piercing eyes of his scanned her apartment he removed his coat and laid it over the jacket on the back of the chair and folded himself down onto the couch carefully. As always she wondered how life had been like before the shooting, feeling a jolt of pity. He was in her spot, the one she curled up in to study, and she resented how easily he claimed her personal space even as she knew she was being crazy. The sliver of pity evaporated.

"I don't need anything to drink. If you could find a pen we can get this out of the way first." He produced papers that had been in his coat and spread them out over her coffee table. She recognized her sprawling signature and realized that was their employment agreement. Did she need to get a lawyer? Did Yuffie know a lawyer? Should she run over and ask Vincent to be a witness to whatever this was? This was even shakier ground than the personal stuff she thought he was here to discuss.

Her raw terror must have been obvious. "These are just copies for your files." He didn't need to be so amused. "This is your employment agreement and this," he waved a piece of paper in front of her. "Is my formal acceptance of your resignation."

It should have been a relief. She waited for the soothing calm to wash over her, but instead she had to tamp down a surge of anger. Tifa wanted to rip up that letter and throw all the pieces in his face. He wasn't supposed to be so reasonable about all this! Wasn't he the one who said they should talk about it? Wasn't he going to put up a fight? Why wasn't he fighting her?

"Would you like to read it?" He was winter pale in contrast to his charcoal sweater, but those eyes were anything but steely. Warm amusement at her expense shone in them even as he didn't so much as crack a smile.

"I can read it later."

"The more I thought about it, Tifa," The use of her first name antagonized her more somehow. "The more I realized that while I would hate to lose the services of someone so talented, I was forcing you into a situation which must have been causing you some discomfort. That was never my intent." He seemed to want to say more, but then his mouth snapped shut and annoyance flashed through his face.

His words had been smooth, and they eased her hackles down just enough for her to realize this righteous anger she was sporting was just covering up deep embarrassment. Time to give up the fight she had been spoiling for until now.

"You didn't do anything. You've been nothing but nice to me since I came to work for you." Tifa forced the hands that had been balled into tight fists at her side to loosen and sat down on the other side of the couch. "I behaved horribly at your birthday."

Rufus smiled and Tifa felt her insides warm in a way her coffee hadn't managed this morning. "I didn't find it particularly horrible."

At one time Tifa had wondered what anyone ever saw in Shinra. All the money in the world couldn't excuse the way he treated people, but here with him she couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him personally. He made her forget things, or maybe she just wanted to forget things, and he was _here_. They had spent weeks working together, talking and planning. If he wasn't her client any longer, as he didn't appear to be, then a lot of things that she had been holding back no longer had principle giving them strength. That idea scared the living daylights out of her.

"I retract my resignation. I would be happy to continue to work with you." Impulsively, she clutched at safety. She felt her heart sink as Rufus honestly seemed to consider her words.

"As valuable as you've been to me as a physical therapist, Miss Lockhart, there's something else I want from you now."

* * *

"I'm too old to be called 'miss'," Tifa said testily, putting distance between them on the couch. As she retied her ponytail Rufus watched her kaleidoscope of emotion turn and tried to predict where she would land this time. He wasn't sure where to go with this next. After ramping himself up to where an apology would even make sense he had hesitated and then, oddly, she had jumped in with her own apology. Rufus felt like Reeve might have been wrong, the past was the past.

"I suppose you're a 'ma'am' now?" That earned him an even darker look. He was reminded of his skittish cat as he scooted closer and caught one of her hands easily in his. It was small, with calluses in all the places you'd expect from someone who weightlifted and boxed. There was more pink to her skin than his own, a shade duskier as well, and it made her seem healthy in contrast to his own coloring.

"You didn't ask me what I wanted. Aren't you curious?" She was arching back but not truly pulling away, and the curve of her spine was pushing her lovely chest up at his face. The tingle that had started in his stomach shot further down and he managed not to groan as he took a steadying breath.

She was experienced enough to know what desire looked like and what he was asking, and he saw her eyes close a little as she bit the corner of her bottom lip. It felt good to feel the tension in her hand and even better the tension in her thigh as he came flush against her. Moving slowly, leaving every opportunity for her to pull away or refuse, he went in for a proper kiss. Not something stolen or tossed away, but deliberate. Underestimating himself, what he wanted to be slow quickly became demanding and when Tifa began to push against him with her own urgency he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.

It seemed too good to be true, practically enfolding her with all the wanting he'd been holding back from showing. He dropped her hand, his fingers under her shirt and moving over the taut skin of her belly when she jumped up from the couch as if she'd been stung. Ah, a little too fast then. The howling in his mind told him not to let her get away, but the uncertainty he saw on her face and in her body language forced him to calm down.

Before she could even think, seeing her blink in confusion as she tried to clear the cobwebs from her reasoning, he took his shot. Standing as gracefully he could manage, leg still throbbing a little from his unwise exercise earlier, he picked up his coat and carefully caught her attention. Her mouth was swollen from the kiss and he wished she hadn't stopped them even as he was glad she had before he lost even the semblance of control he thought he could keep. It was possible to want something too much, and he worried in that moment maybe he was more like his parents in his vices than he had assumed.

"I'll pick you up Friday evening at 7." He smoothed his hair back, combing fingers through it briskly to make sure he didn't look as rumpled as she did regardless of how he felt inside. "Feel free to give me a call if that time doesn't work and we can reschedule."

He let himself out, knowing his imperious words would probably just make her angry again. Leave no room for negotiation, his father had said. Until now he had never implemented that strategy quite so satisfyingly. Rufus glanced down the hall at the elevator before taking the turn that led him back to the stairs.


	9. Dinner Date

So… they are both totally fail at this but I have hopes for them. I wish I could poke someone to write more for this fandom since it needs some serious CPR. Live damn you, LIVE!

Been listening to too much Anberlin. Getting soppy. I'll let you guess at exactly how much he said and how much he thought, but at least he's getting the idea.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

The moment she got within reach of him her nervousness evaporated. He smelled like a human cigarette and she suspected he had gone through a whole pack before he saw her, which meant that Rufus was _nervous_. That he could be so darn human about the whole business was endearing, and it made her worries float away on a cloud of menthol. Even her concerns that her skirt was too short and her sweater too form-fitting seemed out of place when he gave her a relieved look a second before he turned on the charm. Tifa liked that nervous guy a lot more than the smooth operator, but she supposed that was left over from her fondness for Cloud. She might not have been able to meet Rufus at the stratospheric level of his ego, but she understood the nervous guy who was waiting on the other side of her door a second ago.

"Shall we?" If his bodyguards were around they had been told to keep a low enough profile she didn't spot them.

"Where are we going?" Tifa was proud her hand was steady as she locked her apartment after them.

Rufus was in such close proximity to her it was hard to think about the answer he gave. Whatever it was it sounded expensive, and that was the point. He did seem to have the attitude that if he threw enough money at it there would be no issues. Tifa had to admit a lot of the world worked that way, but she hoped he didn't think the same about people.

Expecting his sleek town car, she was surprised to see a shiny grey vehicle flash its lights as he hit a button on the key chain he'd pulled from his pocket. It looked completely nondescript in that expensive way, and it lit up like a small command center when he opened the door for her. She stood there on the snowy sidewalk like a schlub for a moment before it processed that he was trying to be gentlemanly, and then she scrambled into the car. When she finally bought a car, if she ever needed to, she was determined to get one with heated seats. This was amazing.

News radio fired up along with the engine and immediate guilt that she wasn't more informed about the world chased her. The people around her, and their concerns and projects had always been her top priority and she often forgot to think bigger. Most of her music was exercise mixes, stuff Yuffie insisted she had to listen to, and instrumental pieces she used for the background noise in study sessions.

"We don't have to listen to this if you have a preference." Rufus said, offering the horrifying array of dials for her to fiddle with. She was reasonably sure what was power and what was volume but Tifa didn't want to chance hitting a wrong button and breaking something. There was an element of pride too, as she didn't want to show how clumsy she was with mechanical things.

"News is fine." She didn't want silence either, as that would mean they would have to talk. There was a whole evening for talking.

Unlike Yuffie's car which was full of discarded clothing, empty sports drink bottles, and old parking stubs there was absolutely nothing in this car. It even smelled new. He could afford to buy a new car every year if he wanted, she supposed, but there was nothing personal here. The lint her leggings were no doubt leaving on the seat was the only unclean thing in the whole interior.

"You need something to hang off the mirror."

"What?" Rufus, who had been concentrating on driving in the snow, seemed confused by her random outburst.

"You don't strike me as a bumper sticker sort of guy, but if you're going to get something brand new you have to give it some personality."

He considered her words a moment as a man reported on the weather softly. "And what do you think should go there?"

"It's your car."

"And I'm asking you."

This was some sort of litmus test. Whatever she answered he'd probably laugh at, since he obviously thought it was a dumb idea. "What's your hobby?"

His eyebrows arched before he answered her thoughtfully. "Skeet shooting."

"What's that?" She was honestly interested, never expecting him to interact with guns after what he'd experienced with his father.

"Target shooting with clay disks." He paused in that way that people do when there's a lot more to say but they chose the shortest way to explain it. There was obviously a lot he could say about it, and the way he had perked up smoothed out some of the smarmy confidence he had been oozing. "I could show you sometime if you wanted to try it."

"Hmm. Maybe. Guns make me a little nervous." Tifa avoided the question, focusing back on the original issue. "That doesn't sound very mirror-dangly friendly. Nothing else you like to do?"

He didn't pursue the invitation but he didn't look entirely happy. "Work is very involving, and there isn't much time for anything else."

Tifa thought about the fundraising runs she went on year round, and the amateur boxing tournaments she used to do, not to mention all the volunteer work she tried to fit in when summer rolled around (and which she usually dragged Yuffie into as well). That all Rufus had was work seemed a sort of sad and empty way to live a life. Success had its own price, she supposed.

"What about vacations? Is there anywhere you like to go when you aren't working?"

"Aren't you just so curious about my life…" Rufus commented archly. She wondered if this was making him uncomfortable. He was notoriously private.

Defensively she crossed her arms and glanced out the window at passing cars. "I'm just making conversation."

Almost like she had forced a confession from him, he finally volunteered some information as they pulled next to a building where a nearby valet was blowing into his hands for warmth. "I enjoy sailing. But there's even less time for that than shooting. I can't remember the last time I was on my boat…" The wistful tone in his voice was drowned out by the drone of traffic as he dealt with the valet. Tifa had already climbed out of the car by the time he came around to supposedly open the door for her and all he did was shake his head ruefully as he offered his arm to her. She tried not to look like she thought it venomous as she took it and they entered the restaurant.

* * *

They were seated at a nice table near enough to a heater that Tifa felt like she had somehow overdressed for the environment and the waiter handed Rufus a wine list before making himself scarce. Tifa looked around, but it didn't seem like he was coming back any time soon.

"Isn't he going to bring us menus?"

"This restaurant doesn't use menus." Tifa scowled at this simple announcement. Her disbelief prompted a little more explanation. "Every evening they're open, which is maybe half the week, the chef creates a five course meal and you pay a set price to eat whatever he decides to serve to you."

Tifa felt her mouth opening to ask what this 'set price' might be but her second thought was that any answer he gave would probably make her feel guilty and she closed her mouth awkwardly. She didn't have a lot of money to blow on fancy dinners and she had promised herself (and Yuffie) that she would 'go with the flow' this one night.

"Red or white?"

"What?"

"Would you prefer red or white wine? I'm driving so naturally it only matters to you." She thought about all the misadventures they had had when alcohol was involved and shook her head.

"Neither. I'll just get some fruit juice or something. Is that menu just for wine?" She slid the list out of his hands and he watched her carefully as she looked at the bottle names, then the bottle prices, and felt all the color drain from her face. Normal wine didn't cost that much! Did they stop it with gold corks?!

Water appeared at the table, as well as a drink. Rufus explained that the _aperitivo_ was part of the meal and she could send it back for a non-alcoholic one if she would prefer. She indicated that she would but she did sneak a quick sip of the bitter drink before it was replaced with a carbonated peach juice. Rufus seemed content with the bitter red drink but Tifa was happier with the sweeter option.

"So why is it that you haven't asked me any questions?" Tifa sipped her juice and wondered how hard it would be to find something like this in a supermarket.

Rufus arched an eyebrow but didn't hesitate to answer. "I don't think you realize how much information you just give away to people. For instance," he gestured towards her. "I know you got those earrings you're wearing from your father not long ago because you dropped one in our second session and Reno had to search the entire length of the gym floor to find it."

"That isn't so hard, I remember that."

Rufus wasn't done. "But while he was looking for it you also proceeded to let me know that your father is a retired park ranger who is currently writing a book on hikes in the various mountainous areas near Nibelheim, that he has a hard time working email, never answers his phone, and doesn't approve of your boxing hobby because he thinks it will ruin your face."

Tifa tried to laugh it off, but it sounded awkward. "I said all that?"

"And you also added that you wished he would be more supportive of the move you made but it's hard for him to accept you aren't moving back home." Tifa felt a little green. She talked a lot, it was comforting to people when they were interacting with you, but rarely would they remember so much in such detail.

"You're a good listener, then." Tifa tried to say it like it was a good thing

Rufus seemed to realize she had been made to feel foolish because he changed his tone a bit. "I pay closer attention when something matters to me." After that pronouncement Tifa felt a blush burn her cheeks and Rufus went stony silent and became very interested in the rest of his drink.

The appetizer arrived to their silent table, and Tifa tried to conjecture what exotic animal the salami was made from as she stuffed it in her mouth. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

"We used to go camping," Tifa finally volunteered, wanting to ease the tension between them. "Every summer in high school, we'd go backpacking at some point. Hiking was really tough for me back then, but I still looked forward to it. I liked being in nature. Sometimes the city is too bright and noisy."

Rufus finally shook off whatever it was that had clammed him up. "I know about bright and noisy. There used to be all sorts of events at the house before. My mother was fond of parties."

That couldn't have been that long ago, just a couple of years since she left. He talked about her in the past tense as if she was dead and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. While Rufus had said nothing to make her think it, she was putting together a picture in her mind of someone who was overworked, lonely, and a touch sad. There was that sinking feeling in her heart again, like she wanted to find those downtrodden bits and soothe them. Reality check: he was rich and constantly surrounded by people, she was spinning a fantasy with her own bleeding heart.

"Do you like parties?"

"They have their uses. I'm not against events that have a purpose behind them."

Wondering what purpose was behind his birthday party in his opinion Tifa watched as the waiter collected their charcuterie plate and returned quickly with risotto made with some sort of winter vegetable. The waiter offered freshly grated cheese over it and Tifa watched the flakes fall on her steaming dish with joy. She had always liked weird touches like that, or fresh ground pepper. That's what she associated with a fancy meal. In contrast, fast and easy had been the hallmark of food growing up (which she only realized later had contributed to her weight problems).

"You like risotto that much?" Rufus slowly at his food, and his lean frame spoke to Tifa about years of what she assumed was picky eating.

"I like the whole meal," She realized she really meant it as she said it. "I guess it took a lot of the worry away about what to eat."

That sharp look was back on his face. "The fearless Tifa Lockhart was nervous about ordering dinner?"

Wanting to throw back his own tells at him, she prepared her counter when Yuffie's words scolded her out of nowhere to 'roll with it' again. "Isn't that natural? You can't tell me you don't get nervous." She arched her eyebrows as she took a heaping scoop of risotto and chewed it without breaking eye contact.

"Of course I do, but I don't let it win. Nerves never stopped me from getting what I wanted."

"I don't believe that!" Tifa scoffed. "There must have been a time when nerves stopped you from doing something. You already saw one of my greatest failures; it would be a sign of good faith if you told me one of yours."

It was a dare. She threw it out as her challenge. _Let's see some humanity, Rufus._ Tifa was ready to judge him inadequate if he couldn't rise to this. The Rufus she had known in high school might have paid attention to her if she had looked like this then, but he wouldn't have shown weakness. Making him uncomfortable, turning the tables just a little bit, would only be fair. She was entirely convinced he couldn't be different than the man in her memories.

He put down his fork and cleared his throat.

"If you really can't think of one…"

Holding up a hand and tilting his head, he stopped her words. Clearing his throat he took a sip of water and caught her gaze like a hypnotist. "Well…"

* * *

The first day he woke up fully and was given the choice he told them to stop feeding him painkillers. The pain in his leg was as excruciating as you would expect for having been broken and riddled with bullets, but the puckered holes were still a shock when he noticed them. His indestructible father was dead and the Shinra corporation's dirty laundry was just as newsworthy as the tragic shooting that laid him out.

What a difference a month makes.

Flowers choked his private hospital room and there were medical professionals of all sorts wandering in and out of his rooms. He was prodded and poked, tested and questioned. Police eventually arrived and asked more questions, showing him pictures of people he had never met in branch offices he barely knew existed. For all Rufus knew, practically fresh out of college, he would hold some vice-position until the board had decided him a worthy successor. It had seemed decades away from reality that he would be _the_ Shinra at Shinra Corp. but here it was.

He spoke words but he didn't hear them come out of his mouth, not really.

At some point his mother came in, immaculate in black silk and heavy smeared eye makeup. She wept her crocodile tears and stole two bottles of the pills they had still tried to encourage him to take for the pain. They knew he was in pain because he was trembling and pale all the time but he told himself long ago he would rather pass out from pain than give in. His mother's problem was genetic, he had seen it in her brother and his grandfather and he wasn't going to fall into that trap.

Since he had missed the reading of the will, a lawyer came in to let him know the relevant parts and sign some papers. It all seemed hasty, in a way that felt dirtier to him than usual. A certain level of ethical flexibility had been needed over the years, but Rufus couldn't shake the thought that this was unseemly. The whole production stank, and he was at the center of it all, supposedly pulling the strings. No decision he had made had been calculated, he was shooting from the hip.

He wanted to quit.

Eying the whiskey with the big red bow on it in the corner he considered opening up the bottle and sinking down into it. It would be so easy, it would be like gravity. In his wheelchair he had moved slowly but steadily over to it and pulled it into his lap. The crystal bottle was heavy and textured with antique designs in the glass. No doubt it was expensive, and he didn't spare a glance at the card that came with it. The heavy stopper was in his hands, bottle open when he began to shake.

He'd never quit anything in his life, he'd never wanted anything more, and he found he couldn't start now.

The nurses found him with whiskey dripping off of him, soaking his pant leg and bandages. They scolded him as they changed everything out. He hadn't said a word.

* * *

The lamb shank she'd only eaten half of was taken away as Tifa shivered.

"Obviously, I went back to work not long after. And in the end it really was too bad I wasted all that whiskey on being mopey." Rufus tried to take a light tone as he was smiling at her, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes the way it had previously. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to step outside a moment before the salad."

"Sure." She watched him with big soulful eyes as he withdrew a cigarette case from his pocket. The limp was much less noticeable, but he would benefit from getting another therapist she thought dispassionately.

As soon as he was gone she realized her heart was calming down. The intensity of his sincerity had blown her away. She had been ready to judge him lacking but the bomb he dropped on her left her with the feeling that he had just given her something precious. He'd probably never know how much more this affected her than his nice car or this expensive dinner. She didn't know this man at all.

If her smile was brighter as he walked back in, carrying the cold and stinking of smoke, he might not have known the difference but a lot had changed. Hell must have just frozen over.

"So explain skeet shooting to me…" Tifa said shyly as she speared some greens.


	10. Holiday Party

Logical conclusions? Oh boy. Sometime I'll let them catch a break. Wasn't feelin it this time. More humor that only makes me laugh, I guess. Blargh, unsure about this chappie but it came out naturally so I'm going with it as is.

Value systems collide! I have a hard time imagining any culture where Christmas "naturally" evolves so they get winter solstice instead. Assume there is a gift exchange but no elves in chimneys. However, the idea of a sleigh pulled by chocobos is FANTASTIC. Get on it sqeenix.

Listening to Electronic Super Joy OST I &amp; II on Bandcamp on a loop. Love that frustrating game.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

The first date hadn't been a total disaster. At some point during dinner she had gone from hostile to amicable and the only thing that she had actually voiced appreciation about was the food, so he set about researching all the best places to eat in town. If she liked good food then he would entice her with more. He'd started pretty grand so if he wanted to impress her further he had to think sideways. The progression was all mapped out in his head: a few dinners at specialty restaurants, maybe a lunch at a quaint family place, something really fancy and fashionable, and then a private dinner at his home. Short term that gave him a five date groundwork to get her back into his domain. While sex was not the long term goal, it was a good benchmark.

The first quarter was closing soon, coinciding with holidays, so he would need to plan around that. So much of the Shinra infrastructure was built around energy and utilities that the winter was usually a boom in business. Allocating resources effectively was on his mind, but time as always felt the scarcest. No doubt her time would be limited as well due to holiday and family obligations, while he would be in board meetings and fulfilling his role in various holiday celebrations put on by allied companies. Checking his schedule, he scowled. Next open evening looked like a Tuesday after the solstice, which was a couple weeks away and entirely too long in his estimation.

Picking up his phone he scanned email while it rang. "Tseng," he said "How many of those solstice events I accepted invitations to are considered 'social'…"

* * *

"Push it! One more!" Yuffie stood next to her as Tifa finished her squats. "You've been slacking! Again, you've got another!" While the encouragement was helpful, what inspired Tifa more was to grind out enough reps to get Yuffie off her back. The slim woman was red faced and hopping around her, so excited they finally had some workout time together she could barely contain herself. Not for the first time Tifa wondered if Yuffie had a condition that needed medication.

With a grunt Tifa finished and got about to the business of racking the weights as Yuffie buzzed around her and gushed about how hot Vincent was and how annoying her family was and how Tifa never seemed to have any time for girl-stuff anymore. Yuffie considered working out until you collapsed as "girl-stuff" just as surely as shopping .

"… and once you and Rufus get hot and heavy I'll probably never see you!" she finished, nearly making Tifa drop the bar on her feet.

Sputtering, she carefully put the bar in its place before rounding on her friend, red-faced. "Rufus and I are not 'hot and heavy'!"

"Yeah, well, you at least think it might be an outside possibility otherwise you would have denied it." Yuffie waggled her head back and forth putting as much sass into it as she could. The point hit home.

Taking a towel from the nearby stack she wiped the sweat off her face, grateful it would hide the hunted look in her eyes. "It was one date, that's not exactly a promise of any kind. We didn't even kiss at the end." With a grimace, she remembered how he had stood there smoldering when she gave him an awkward hug in front of her building and beat feet back to her apartment. He wasn't a large man but he could be intimidating.

Yuffie acted like she was going to tear out her own hair. "They could name historical eras after you, you move so slowly with guys. The generation of Cloud Strife, the Rufus Shinra epoch…" Yuffie took a hasty guzzle from her water bottle. "Meanwhile, the hottest man alive is living across the hall from you and you won't even tell me if you've seen him with another girl."

"I thought you were the love 'em and leave 'em type?" It was Tifa's turn to poke at her friend.

Sniffing delicately, Yuffie pretended not to hear. "You can't leave a friend hanging like that, it's cruel."

What proceeded was twenty more minutes of how dreamy Vincent Valentine ("oooh that name!") was: how long and shiny his hair, how slim and artistic his hands, how deep and masculine his voice until Tifa was sure she was going to vomit. Some of it might have been overdoing her workout after a long absence from the gym, but she was ready to put blame where she needed to in order to get Yuffie to stop verbalizing her crush.

"If you like him so much, just knock on his door and tell him you want to see him again!"

"You make it sound so simple." Yuffie blew at some hair that had stuck to her face while she was doing push-ups with Tifa. "But I just _can't_."

Digging into a rueful part of herself she tried to emphasize her words, "Yuffie, trust me, if you don't say anything at all then you'll regret it even more. You have to be honest with yourself. If you want something you have to be brave enough to admit it."

In the locker room later as she checked the voicemail on her phone she realized she would be eating those words.

* * *

What did you give the man who had everything? Red would get his honey baked ham (she had stayed in touch enough to know he said he didn't want any gifts, but food surely didn't count), Barrett got a gift certificate to an online retailer and a reminder that his wedding anniversary was soon (as she sent him every year at his request), Yuffie got a fruitcake (because she was one), and Barrett's kids got a whole bunch of things from a remote control motorcycle to sparkling wands that lit up when you hit them against things. The baby would appreciate the colors, even if she was approaching one and a half and Marlene would enjoy the remote controlled motorcycle since that lit up and made noise as well. Work had been a white elephant thing and she had the 10 pack of tube socks enfolded around a small gift card for coffee, which she still needed to wrap. Everything needed to be wrapped, something that Tifa did not excel at even on a good day. Her dad would expect her some time before the New Year for dinner, and she had requested the days off ages ago. She was even giving Vincent a small thing, some exotic coffee beans she had gotten on sale. He always looked like he had rough nights on swing shift.

The only person that wasn't accounted for was Rufus, and she hadn't even considered giving him anything at first because anything he could possibly want he bought for himself. Once it became apparent she would see him close to the solstice, however, it occurred to her that it would be a little weird not to just give him a token of the holiday or something along those lines. So sitting in the corner looking confusingly out of place in her apartment was a life ring for a sailboat.

Vaguely, it had seemed like a good idea when she had been getting Barrett his online certificate. Buying summer items in winter had made it a screaming deal, but the cheery orange and white thing sitting in her apartment just made her feel embarrassed. She needed a male opinion on something like that. Barrett was her go to guy when it came to 'male opinions' especially on something she couldn't talk to her dad about, (and Rufus was nearly top of the list of things she didn't want to talk to her dad about). However, Barrett also made the list of people she didn't want to talk to about Rufus. Come to think of it, Tifa wasn't sure there was anyone she could really talk to about Rufus other than Yuffie.

"This is such a bad idea," Tifa thought to herself as she wandered over across the hall and knocked on Vincent's door.

It took a while but he did eventually answer. As always his posture was excellent, making him seem even taller than he already was, but his hair was tied up behind him and he had a frying pan with sizzling bacon in one hand which took a little away from the grim facial expression.

"Tifa Lockhart." He acknowledged her.

"Vincent." She nodded at him. "I have a quick question for you."

He blinked at her and said nothing but also did not close the door. Assuming that was all the invitation she was getting to continue she plowed ahead. "Let's say you had been dating someone, or maybe not dating necessarily but _seeing _them in a date-ish kind of way, and then the solstice rolled around and…" She was rambling. Vincent was giving her a slow frown. "What would you do if someone gave you one of these?"

She stuck the life ring out in front of her and Vincent narrowed his eyes before slowly shaking his head. When he looked her in the eye this time she saw a hint of the humor than Yuffie swore he possessed and continued to shake his head as he closed his door slowly. A smoke alarm went off briefly inside his apartment and cut off just as fast.

"Yeah," she said to the closed door. "That's what I figured."

* * *

It would be a source of eternal shame, in Tifa's mind, that she had had to look up a definition for 'business casual'. For men it seemed to be a general consensus but for women it was more amorphous and Tifa flung clothes around her room in hopes that her eternally athletic wardrobe would produce a single knee length skirt and a blouse that wasn't a bright color. Her business was exercise and it hadn't occurred to her that she would have literally nothing to wear to a business-y event. Her one interview suit was not _casual _and what she normally wore to the office was not _business_ so where did that leave her? She had a dark maroon blouse which she hoped would pass for neutral and her tried and true black skirt which rested mid-thigh. All of her nylon stockings had runs and tights wouldn't look right so she slipped on some flats and hoped she wouldn't freeze wherever they were ending up. Rufus' invitation had been, she thought, deliberately vague.

Elena was the one she spied through her peephole when the doorbell rang. Brows knit, she opened the door and greeted to blond woman. "Is everything ok?"

"Yes, Miss Lockhart."

"I told you before, all of you, you can call me Tifa."

"That's very kind of you, Miss Lockhart." Elena smiled, while Tifa sighed. All of Rufus' bodyguards were dense in their own way and she wasn't entirely sure if it was on purpose or not. "Mr. Shinra is waiting for you in the car below. He said there was no hurry."

Somehow, that had her rushing more effectively than a countdown might have. Was it some sort of nefarious reverse psychology? Before she knew it she was sitting in the back seat of his town car, Elena and Tseng in front of them. All in black, but with a white tie, Tifa realized belatedly she had missed the best opportunity she would have to give him a colorful clothing item as a gift. He arched one eyebrow in question as she scowled.

"We're not too far out if you're getting cold feet." His eyes lingered on her bare legs just long enough that she wanted to punch him in the arm more than a little.

"Don't worry I'm not scared of your business friends." It was only a partial lie; technically speaking she could probably break most of them in half. "I'm just struck by the fact that I don't own a lot of nice clothes."

Giving her a once over that was more evaluative than sensual he smiled in that way she hated, which is how she knew he was going to say something that would really irritate her. "I'd be happy to buy—"

"Nope. No. I don't even want you to finish that sentence." Tifa tried not to look at him. "I make quite enough to buy my own clothes. I just didn't think to get around to it this time." Insecurity got the better of her long enough to add. "The skirt isn't too short is it? I don't think it's very business casual."

_You invited it this time_. She reminded herself that she couldn't find his lingering gaze insulting if she asked him to look. Her warm jacket had her sweating into her camisole in the heated car while Rufus seemed to examine every inch of exposed skin.

"I don't see anything wrong with it." He replied simply. "Now before we get there let me warn you about a few things…"

"Shinra you dog, did you see the new projections? I swear if you corner the market any more they'll bring in monopoly sniffing dogs!" A large man with an equally large mustache pumped Rufus' hand and clapped him on the back. "Help yourself to whatever you like, not that I could stop you anyway!"

The laugh they shared sounded natural enough, but Tifa saw the way their eyes narrowed at one another. Once past the greeter she saw people milling around. The museum was full of people chatting or leaning on small tables. Everyone had a drink in hand, clutching a small plate precariously as well in that practiced manner of people who couldn't imagine there were those in the world who didn't know what ROI was.

"The food probably won't be bad, since it's mostly executives." He was always pointing food out to her, and she started to think maybe he did like his women a little softer looking than she currently was. If so, then too bad for him, she had worked hard for this figure! But a little something to snack on did sound appealing. "I can get us a drink if you're so inclined."

"I wouldn't mind something hot," The museum wasn't exactly warm and she wished her camisole would suddenly thicken up and trap some of the heat she was losing, her blouse was no better. "Some decaf coffee would be best if they have it, with lots of cream and sugar."

He walked off with her order and Tifa rubbed her arms that had started to cover in goosebumps. Long tables near the windows held a pretty ice sculpture of a fire with sconces in it for multiple candles. Trays of tiny sandwiches, fruit skewers, seafood, and other sundry things all the way down to sculpted sugar desserts made Tifa wonder if Rufus was made so bored by expensive displays he didn't even see them anymore. At least she was impressed by the ice sculpture, and the paintings were all really interesting but no one was looking at them. Expensive things were just scenery to these people.

"Your coffee." He came up behind her while she was staring at a candle in the sculpture. "Nothing appetizing to you?"

"No, it all looks great, I'm just… wrapping my head around what this is. I don't go to stuff like this, normally. You know all these people right?"

Rufus took a moment to look around, then turn to face her again. "For the most part."

"Do you _like_ any of these people?"

This time it didn't take him nearly so long to answer, and when he did he was smiling at her. "Not many of them, no."

"Then why are you even _here_? Why am I here for that matter?" With a whole evening of small talk with CEOs she felt like he owed her at least that much. As a date this wasn't exactly her ideal.

"As for your first question, there are appearances to maintain and connections that can only be made in person." He nodded as a man came to pick up some food and clapped him on the back hard enough that she was impressed when Rufus didn't flinch before they exchanged greetings. Once he was gone, Rufus focused on her once again. "As to your second question, Ms. Lockhart, I believe that I asked and you said yes."

As the evening passed she would come to regret her cavalier decision. Men and women wandered over to talk to Rufus (she noticed he never had to go to people, but people certainly flocked to him) but she might as well have been a ghost. Politely, Rufus would introduce her and they would greet her warmly enough before turning to Rufus and make small talk before moving on. Eventually it started to get to her, and she could feel the anger wanting to bubble over. She was about ready to sock the next person that slighted her when Rufus led her gently but firmly by the elbow over to a large abstract painting that he pointed to and commented on loudly before whispering to her.

"What in the world is going on with you?"

Furiously, she whispered back, "In case you hadn't noticed, and you didn't seem to, but everyone is pointedly ignoring me."

"And in case _you_ hadn't noticed, the women are snubbing you on purpose because you're the most attractive one here and the men don't want to step on my toes." He looked like that should have been the end of it, when suddenly he added, "That first man who flirted with you when we got in, do you remember that?"

"No. Was he the one who asked me about my job? Like a normal person would when you meet a stranger?"

Rufus looked nonplussed. "And who then asked if you had any appointment slots open in the evening on the weekends right after? Yes, him."

She was taken aback a moment. "What was wrong with that?"

"You obviously missed his point. I didn't. And I let him know our standing meetings might have to go on permanent hiatus because of an unavoidable conflict of interest."

Tifa took a moment to unpack what he meant, but when she figured it out she was suddenly even more livid than she had started. "You threatened him! You threatened him because he hit on me?" Her voice had risen and she shushed herself at the last word, darting her eyes around to make sure no one was noticing them unduly.

"I warned you before we came here: these people are sharks," He actually looked pleased with himself. "They would expect nothing less."

_Deep breath, Tifa, now name the bones in the foot. Don't answer him until you can do it without the risk of bodily harm_. "And you thought I would like this…why?"

"Why Rufus, I wondered if the rumors were true, and here you are bold as the sun." The voice broke over her like nails on a chalkboard. If Rufus had been her tormentor, then Scarlet had been his implement of torture.

Rufus had the sense to look displeased, but in the same way you might grimace when you noticed the bread had gone moldy. He gave Tifa what she thought might be an apologetic smile before turning to face Scarlet. Slowly doing the same, and grateful that her previous foul temper was giving her strength, Tifa clapped eyes on one of her least favorite people for the first time in over a decade.

The grey skirt she wore seemed modest until you saw it had a slit to mid-thigh running up the side. Hair was perfectly and artistically piled on her head. Long acrylic red nails, her signature all these years, were highly glossy. The thin red cashmere sweater she wore showed off every model thin angle of her body. She had pageant good looks: too tan, big white smile, lots of makeup.

"Scarlet, how unfortunate you found the time to attend this little soiree." Rufus' voice could have greased industrial engines. Tifa was starting to recognize that tone as his defense mechanism.

"I had heard you were seeing your assistant, how charming the rumors were true. I should have realized I needed to go up two cup sizes before you'd notice me." The tone was level and genial, like she had commented on the weather.

Rufus sighed just the right amount to sound absolutely bored. "You're as tactless as I remembered; I wonder why I didn't fire you sooner."

"You didn't fire me, darling, I left for greener pastures. Much greener." She rolled one of the diamond studs in her ear between two fingers. "Your tacky little friend is familiar, did I see you taking notes at a board meeting somewhere?"

Laughably, cutting through the horror of encountering her and the frigid reception Rufus had for the woman, Tifa realized Scarlet didn't recognize her. Squaring her shoulder and straightening her spine she unconsciously took a boxing stance with her feet. If it was a fight she wanted, Tifa was ready this time around and even if she couldn't take a swing at that pretty plastic face she could stand her ground.

"Nice to see you again Scarlet, it's been a few years. I'm afraid we never had the pleasure of working together, but you certainly do know me. How has life been treating you?"

Whatever game Scarlet had been playing, this kill 'em with kindness tactic that Tifa had taken completely threw her off. Clearly she was searching her mind for how Tifa knew her, but being at a disadvantage was not something she was comfortable with. She shifted on her tall heels as she narrowed her eyes. Whatever cutting remarks she had she seemed to be swallowing while she tried to place Tifa.

"I finished my doctorate in physical therapy not long ago, and I work downtown currently, you've probably passed by my building before."

Tifa saw Scarlet was choking on her own rage, unable to identify her still, but sure she was familiar. Knowing the look of a cornered opponent Tifa went for one more jab. If they had actually been in the ring this is where Tifa would have gotten her against the ropes.

"It was too bad you didn't come to our high school reunion a while back, we could have caught up then."

Knockout, Tifa thought with a not-so-secret smile. Scarlet gurgled as realization finally hit her how she knew Tifa and she telegraphed all the signs giving plenty of time to brace for the slap that landed squarely on her cheek. As Tifa had suspected, those skinny arms of hers didn't pack much power, and as Elena rushed over ready to jump on the angry blond Tifa intercepted her. If the other guests had been politely ignoring the exchange before they couldn't help but openly gawk at Scarlet's burst of temper.

"Scarlet, a pleasure as always," Rufus set down his drink at a nearby table and then put a hand on Tifa's shoulder, grabbing enough of her attention to get her moving towards the door. Everyone watched them leave but Tifa didn't even care anymore. Victory was sweet.

Elena hovered near them until they got to the car that Tseng brought out front. Her consternation was obvious at having failed at her basic task of protecting Tifa. Rufus also seemed to be handling her like she was glass about to shatter, but she had never felt better. The sting in her cheek faded fast and all that was left were endorphins and a wide satisfied smile.

"I had figured on coming across her eventually, but I didn't think she would attend this. She always considered holiday parties gauche." Rufus avoided Tifa's eyes in the car while examining her face slowly and carefully, touching her with cool fingertips. His solicitous attention was making the blood rush to her face more furiously than anything else she had endured that evening but she let him reassure her.

"Are all your ex-girlfriends that nice?"

"She isn't an ex, that's why she's so angry."

"Oh."

They sat in silence on the way back to Tifa's apartment. Rufus had a far-away look on his face which she assumed meant he was thinking hard about whatever. Tifa was giddy with the feeling that she had confronted one of her childhood terrors and found it weak and petty. As dates went it had been pretty bad, but as life-affirmation went she felt fantastic. He obviously didn't feel the same way as the dark cloud around him was obvious.

They stopped in front of her building and Tifa was all too aware of Elena and Tseng near them to think about him trying anything funny. He wasn't exactly giving her steamy looks, and she supposed he was cranky that nothing had turned out like he had wanted. He looked almost… dejected.

"Oh! Wait here one minute, I need to grab something in my apartment for you. It's a solstice gift." Tifa moved carefully over the snow that had hardened after dark to near ice and then broke into a run to the elevator. While riding up alone she did a little victory dance and sprinted to her apartment as the door opened.

Tossing paper aside she found what she hadn't wrapped yet for him, and looked at the life ring that had fallen over in the corner of the room. Hopefully that company had a flexible return policy. Back down to the car so fast she had actually broken a sweat she signaled that he should roll down the window. He still had his glower on as she handed him the tiny brass charm on some ribbon. It was a little boat steering wheel.

"For your rearview mirror," she added with a cheesy grin born of awkwardness. It dangled in front of her for a moment before he took it from her without a word. In exchange he placed a small box in her hand.

"Yours isn't wrapped either."

She opened it up to find a tiny gold medallion with an offset red gem in it; it looked like a necklace. It also looked expensive.

"I can't accept this." She held it back to him but he made no move to take it.

"What if I told you it was just glass and brass?"

"Well… I guess." She looked at it dubiously. As long as it wasn't real then that seemed a little less outrageous. She missed seeing the canny feline smile on his face as she looked away. "Hey," she said emboldened by her successes that night. "How about I pick the next place? I don't want any more surprises like Scarlet."

His eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting that turn of events. Had she just asked him out? She had to admit she must have. "I'll email you with my availability. The holidays are… complicated."

"I'll be visiting my dad soon anyway, so maybe for the new year?"

"As you like."

She waved him off, shivering as her bare legs reminded her again she needed to invest in at least one pair of nylons.


	11. Happy New Year

Holidays mean family. Right? Riiiiight.

Also… apparently Scarlet always slaps Tifa? I'll have to admit, I never saw her in any of the other FF fics I read (this is her first appearance in any of mine) so I don't know her fan tropes. Alas I walked right into that one! Tifa knows she could crumple Scarlet like a paper bag, so she had nothing to prove after that. Ya'll are making me determined to redeem poor Scarlet now just to see if I can. Dunno how that would fit in however…

You can thank Bad Religion (Stranger than Fiction) for fueling today's entry, as short as it is. Thank you to my consistently lovely reviewers who get me thinking about things in different ways! Nice to see how my intentions play out in your experiences.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

Rufus' life devolved into reports and meetings. Decisions needed to be made on what felt like everything, and it all passed through his hands. This was the time of year he would get those peculiar headaches from the strain of reading many pages of documents in low light for long periods of time. He consistently reminded himself that he had asked for this life, but sometimes he wondered if there had been a real choice. If there had been it probably would have been in college during those "electives" he had been forced to take. He conjured up a vague memory of making someone cry in a Philosophy of Religion class and then turned back to yet another page of legalese.

In the stacks of papers and binders, and among the hundreds of emails he had read in the past couple weeks, there was nothing from the only person he found he was eager to hear from and tomorrow was the first day of the new year. Pre-emptively he had cancelled all plans and turned down all invitations, even ones from people that he almost always put in at least a token appearance.

"I'm keeping a low profile this year," was all he said when Tseng smirked at him the other day. All invitations had to be vetted through Tseng for background checks as well as scouting locations for possible problems. To someone with a less public life growing up it would have seemed intrusive, but Rufus had given up on that and found his privacy in other ways.

Oddly enough the easiest invitation to turn down had been from his mother. Her rare call told him something was up, as she had been the model for him in having no action without purpose.

"My darling, I heard you've been lonely," The rise and fall of her words reminded him of Scarlet. Or possibly Scarlet had reminded him of his mother. "You should come spend some time at our house and relax."

"Our ideas of relaxation are very different, mother." His shirt sleeves rolled up, he paced around his office wondering what it was this time that prompted her worry and figuring he knew the answer already.

"It's just a little party, very intimate. I know you always just tolerated those big galas, but I promise you it won't be that way this year."

He picked up a graph he had had explained to him in great detail earlier that day and flipped through the report pages without really reading them. "I suppose this intimate gathering includes a few new acquaintances for me?"

"You live so far away, sweetheart, you can't possibly know everyone in Costa del Sol as well." Honey had nothing on her tone.

"And I suppose there might be a young woman or two among that crowd." He tried to round to the point quickly this time.

Her words were slower, now that he'd cottoned on to her intentions. "The world is a diverse place…"

"Whatever Scarlet told you, and I know you still talk to her, I don't need your help navigating this particular arena in my life, mother."

The tone that escaped her now could cut glass. "I'm sure that girl you're seeing now is very _nice_ but you need someone that can meet you at your own level. Scarlet would have been good for you if you had given her a chance, and she knows how to navigate our world, but I have a number of young ladies you should meet who could easily be conditioned to…"

"Mother," His tone was weary but firm. "Whatever _level_ you think I'm at is sufficient to meet my current interest. Don't you have step-children you can bother about these things now?"

"They aren't nearly so resistant, or ungrateful." If he had a tally for frequency of words used by his mother in conjunction with him, those two were probably close to the top in the past five years.

He barked out a wry laugh, massaging his tired eyes. "And a happy early New Year to you too, mother." He said as he cut the call off. Hanging up on her like that would only incur further wrath, but he didn't have the energy for her venom. He'd send her something expensive later and it would do a lot to smooth over her ruffled feathers. As she used to say: tears couldn't compare to diamonds.

If only everyone were so easy to appease. The obvious lack of a certain email made him feel callow as he searched his inbox, but he steeled himself to wait a little longer as he went back to the work that defined him.

* * *

Tifa was not the sort of person who got sick. Even in the days where she'd been a bump on a log at home she had only suffered minor colds here and there, and the occasional bout of food poisoning from trying to stretch her food budget too far in school. What she had on returning from her dad's was well and truly defined as the flu and she holed up in her apartment to sweat it out. Days of misery bled into one another as vacation became sick leave and she lay on a heap of blankets and used tissues listening to talk radio.

Her favorite parts of the day came during the traffic report, because that man had a smooth voice and it never made her head pound the way some of the more nasal reporters did. All sorts of people called in to talk about random things and it took her out of herself for a while when she listened to it. Pieces of people's lives were so interesting, especially on talk radio where no one was calling in to mention mundane details. Marriage, divorce, controversy, opinions on everything under the sun, and story after story about solstice parties and embarrassing relatives became her world between soup, tea, and sleep.

When it came to embarrassing relatives, her dad had things well in hand. As a surprise he had bought an extra-large turkey which they discovered neither of them knew how to cook well after the initial discovery that it wouldn't fit in the over. Good 'ol dad had suggested deep frying but Tifa didn't trust them not to burn the house down. In the end she had spent the whole day butchering the meat into easily cooked chunks for his freezer and ordered food for delivery. Another successful holiday dinner, a la Tifa Lockhart! Her dad provided the side dish: a steaming bowl of guilt.

Was she seeing someone? Well, no not really, just a few dates here and there (that they were all with the same man she neglected to mention). How was her work? Fine, fine, she's only been doing it less than a year and it was still fantastic every day. Was she going to have time to go hiking next summer like she had promised last summer? Had she looked into starting a practice in Nibelheim? When was she coming out to see Barrett and his family and might she think about stopping in? Was there really all that much more to do in the big city? And on. And on.

Sometimes she wished she had had a sibling just to deflect some of his attention away from her. She was his pride and joy, but he seemed to want to display her like a trophy before his friends and joke around with her but not really accept that she'd built a life for herself away from him. It hurt to think about all the adult stuff they couldn't talk about since Tifa was eternally fifteen to her father. Even if she became a mom and that kid became a teenager, she'd just bet her dad would tell her what time to go to bed.

Gasping, then coughing, she realized she had imagined her teenage son with a very familiar pair of blue eyes, and not the ones she used to picture in previous day dreams. Ohhhhh shit… what day was it even?

Moving as fast as she was able, tangled in blankets, the miserable lump that contained Tifa at its core wandered over to the computer. Not one email from Rufus was there, but she was supposed to send him one, wasn't she? Flopping into her computer chair, she set to work explaining herself.

* * *

_Hello Rufus!_

_So sorry you haven't heard from me until now! I have been fighting a very bad flu and only got to my email just now. I hope you understand that I need to raincheck new year's. Sorry for the late notice!_

_Tifa_

* * *

_Ms. Lockhart,_

_I assure you it slipped my mind until now that we had made plans. By "raincheck new year's" do you mean you don't wish to meet me for another calendar year?_

_R. S._

* * *

_Rufus,_

_Don't tease me! I didn't ask to be sick! I can see you next weekend if you're free. I don't know what we'll do yet, so you'll just have to trust me._

_Tifa_

* * *

_Ms. Lockhart,_

_That's a lot to ask. Can you at least provide a general location?_

_R.S._

* * *

_Rufus, is it so hard to trust me to figure it out?_

_Tifa_

* * *

_Ms. Lockhart,_

_You have no idea._

_I'll see you next weekend TBD._

_R.S._

* * *

Satisfied with the results as much as she could be under the circumstances, Tifa looked out into the city twilight and tried to imagine how lonely new year's was going to be tomorrow holed up sick in her apartment. If she were going to call in to one of those radio shows what would she say? Would anyone even be listening?

"Knock knock!" Yuffie seemed to need to announce this action as she did it. "Don't pretend like you aren't in there, I can hear you feeling sorry for yourself!"

Luckily, Yuffie was easy to get to do favors like grocery shopping so long as Tifa promised eternal servitude to their friendship. Face mask on, wary of the contagion, Yuffie slid in with an armful of bags. Instant noodles, fruit, juice, more tea, lemons, honey, and a whole slew of protein bars made up the vast majority of what she brought. Tifa was no great cook, but even she was a little more ambitious than this at the store. The hazards of non-specific requests to a Kisaragi.

"Stop looking at me like," she coughed. "Like I'm a living germ and let me grab some gil for you."

Yuffie looked like she wanted to crawl up a wall to get away from every surface. "Hurry it up, if I get sick I will never never forgive you! Well, I guess eventually I'd forgive you. But you'd never know because I'd keep it to myself!"

As she dug around for her purse in the bedroom she heard a sinister laugh from the other room. "So what are you going to do with him, eh? Heh heh."

"Stop reading my email!" Darn it all she shouldn't have left her snoopy friend alone with the computer. "It's none of your business!" Oddly, she felt protective of whatever this was she was pursuing with Rufus.

"You said you don't know what you're going to do." Yuffie wandered into the doorframe and leaned against it. The mask made her ludicrous facial expressions and eyebrow waggling extra ridiculous. "I think you know what you want to do."

Wrapping a hand around her coin purse, Tifa gave a little sigh that became a cough. "I don't think I'm ready for what you think I want to do." The 'you're not kidding anyone' eyeroll Yuffie gave her made her feel immediately defensive. "I know you think I'm being silly."

"I don't think, I know you are." Yuffie threw up her hands. "But I also know you dig in your heels when you really don't want to do something, and you were about ready to pop your Shinra cherry after a couple drinks last month so obviously you just need a little push."

Talk flowed to family woes and New Year resolutions before Yuffie took off to go stand in front of Vincent's door and fret, or so Tifa assumed. Being with Yuffie was exhausting even when she had lots of energy and being with Yuffie while sick was all the inducement she needed to collapse back onto her blanket pile and sleep.

* * *

Rufus stared at his computer screen, trying to will his email to read differently with the force of his displeasure. Tseng was going to complain at him, in his own serious way, for agreeing to go to an undisclosed location at short notice, but the Turk didn't have the final say and the odds that it would result in a dangerous situation were slim. Seeing one another for the New Year would have had a certain element of familiarity. They would eat, there would be fireworks, finally he'd get a chance to put his hands on her again and the world would fall into order around them unlike the way it had been the last time. The world seemed to conspire to keep them apart which made him of two minds: on the one hand he didn't want to let whatever divisive forces win against his own desires, but on the other hand he had to have a limit where the costs were too great when set against the benefits.

He hadn't explored a possibility yet where he did not end up with Lockhart by his side. Even thinking it made him want a drink, since it was too cold to go to the roof for a cigarette like he normally would. It didn't take long to locate a clean glass and some gin from his small bar in the corner of his office. He put in a little tonic and noted how flat it had become with a shrug. The year was ending with a whimper anyway, it seemed fitting.

It was late, too late for work anyway after being at it all day. If he called Reeve it wouldn't even be noon yet over there but he didn't like the idea of getting laughed at again to no purpose. He didn't even know how to frame the question. It wasn't like Reeve could peer into the future and tell him if this was all for naught. Rufus was not a gambling sort of man. When he had a plan he considered all the possible outcomes and then made a deliberate move. The key to success was holding on to all the control and acting when you were certain the outcome would favor you.

Previous "relationships" had been more like arrangements with suitably photogenic and attractive women who would project the image he needed. The value they added to his life he repaid with gifts and then sent them on their way when they began to reach for more than he was willing to offer. He tried to imagine a limit on what he was willing to offer Tifa and it didn't seem so well defined, and only slightly less well defined than what he thought she might want. His normally rigid posture relaxed into a slump in his chair, and he swiveled it to to look out over the cityscape.

If he couldn't offer her clothes, she would barely accept jewelry (and only if she _thought_ it was cheap), and connections and money didn't particularly matter to her then what the hell was he offering her that she actually wanted? That thought was troubling enough on its own to prompt a trip back to his bar.


	12. Lunch Redux

Hm. Everyone is antsy, sheesh.

Also, I seem to have erred on the side of uncertainty with Tifa's character. I think what I wanted was not "buffoon" by any means but emotionally immature definitely. Both of them are clever adults, they both have good intentions, they are both excellent at their chosen fields and hobbies, but Tifa took a decade to get over an unrequited crush and Rufus hasn't had a real relationship ever full stop (parents, friends, anyone). Growing up is something you have to choose, and usually there has to be a reason (for them, in my estimation).

For those of you who are 'surprised' by this… I hoped I foreshadowed this enough so it doesn't catch you unaware. Very hard to keep this T, let me tell you.

Rufus chapter next, only half formed in my mind. Thinking there's only two or three chapters left in this project for me. Thinking.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

Ivory sheets! She would have thought them to be black silk or something equally improbable rather than a solid essentially normal color. He slept bonelessly next to her while the tips of his fingers brushed her hip after having slipped from firmly gripping her tightly. Without the calculating look on his face or those unnervingly intense blue eyes he seemed like a normal man. While working with him on his leg she had noted that we was not particularly muscular, but low body fat made all the wiry muscle he did have stand out. In another life, with his magnetism and sharp good looks he might have been a model.

It was hard to resist touching that hair of his now that she knew how soft it was, and particularly fine. She was sure if she examined it more closely she could find a white one, and she tried to kid herself that that was what she was doing as she boldly stared at him in the reflective haze that moonlight on snow created. The curtains had been hastily drawn and were open just enough to allow her to examine both him and the room in more detail. She hadn't exactly been eyeing the décor when they nearly fell through the door.

King sized bed with a grey comforter and small low headboard, some books gathered on one end of it. Matching bedside tables with antique iron lamps. No alarm clock, but she supposed a phone could do the same and that was in his suit jacket and halfway across the room. Two rather plush looking chairs near a coffee table in one corner. Doorway that probably led to his bathroom… or was it a closet? Desk in the other corner with cords coiled all around and speakers but no laptop attached to them. Other than the clothes strewn around on the way to the bed there was nothing personal about this room. This was a strictly utilitarian space. He must have someplace else for the trinkets and pictures that made up a home. It's like he just slept in someone else's house.

Sliding carefully off the side of the mattress she marveled at how she could have jumped up and down on it and it probably would not have disturbed him one iota. Of course he'd buy the best of absolutely everything. Locating her bra and panties after some searching and picking up of articles of clothing to examine them closely in the scraps of light, Tifa made her way to the probable bathroom. Soundlessly the door opened and closed and she flicked on the light, blinking into the brightness.

A half opened door at the other end of the bathroom hinted at monochrome clothing so she assumed his closet was beyond. There was a very modern looking shower, a jacuzzi bathtub across from it, and a sink. Another door to the left of the shower was, she assumed, the toilet. Doors in doors in doors… the place seemed almost like one of those nested dolls. There were always more rooms to find.

She splashed her face with water and cupper her hands to get a quick drink of it before switching the faucet off and finally facing her reflection. Long tousled hair, the little makeup she had put on was a smear around her eyes, but otherwise she looked like herself. It wasn't like sex, even good sex, was going to transform her into a different person. She wasn't taller, she still had faint freckles on her arms and legs, and there was no sign plastered across her face proclaiming what she had done. Curling her toes in the bathroom rug she tried to think.

* * *

The cough had only stopped the day before yesterday, but she was glad it had stopped at all. Her energy was back to almost pre-flu levels and work had been slow enough that she hadn't needed to strain too hard to jump through all the hoops.

She'd had a flash of brilliance about the whole date thing and after a few phone calls during lunch breaks everything was ready for the trek over. Emails were sent, confirmations were in place, and now all that was left to actually pick up her makeshift picnic basket and climb on a bus. She had insisted taking a bus to meet him because she didn't want to be picked up on this particular occasion.

Arriving at Emerald Jewel Conservatory almost twenty minutes early, she was surprised to see Rufus standing outside of its doors breathing into his hands and rubbing them in turns. He was here terribly early as well, but she respected that they had a similar philosophy on punctuality.

"That looks like lunch." He said as she got closer.

"That's right."

"And I see, from the printout next to the door that one T. Lockhart has this location reserved for three hours."

She blushed, "I didn't think we'd be here that long, but reservation slots are in blocks. I figured you didn't want to be anywhere super public."

"I have no preference in those regards, but Tseng probably thanks you." He sounded aloof and she wondered if too much time had passed between their last meeting and now.

As she had hoped the conservatory was warm with just a hint of humidity, a welcome change from the dry cold that they had just escaped from. It was easier to breathe here, even though it wasn't a large space, and the pond in the corner almost silently recycled over the rock feature. She unconsciously began giving a plant tour, just like she used to tell her dad not to do when they were on trips. Despite herself, despite loving the city, there was a strong country streak in her heart.

"There's Wutai evergreen all around the edges. They use them to fill in a lot of space because the leaves are large and they don't take a lot of care to look good." She led them to a bench even though there was a small grassy spot in the middle. She didn't see Rufus as a ground sitting kind of guy, especially in his expensive clothes. He was shedding his coat and suit jacket as they walked. Once they reached the bench he began to roll up his sleeves. Tifa continued to talk, partially out of pure habit. "This is a sea-box, which was always one of my dad's favorites. He said you had to look closely to see how beautiful it was. He likes it when you have to work a little to find the beauty in things." She remembered when he would tell her it was up to her to find the beauty in life, and how she had thought it so corny at the time.

"Was your visit… good?" Rufus watched as she divested herself of her own coat and pulled out some canned drinks from the basket. If he was too good for soda she might as well find out now.

Unsure of how much to say, she thought a second or two about how to phrase it. "You know how the holidays are. Parents just want to know that you're doing well and thinking of them. My dad is still after me to go camping with him soon, and honestly I miss it and should carve out the vacation time but for some reason I'm acting like I won't be able to do it. Family, right? How were your holidays?"

"I was working through most of it." He opened his soda and took a drink, but she saw his eyes flicker around as he examined his surroundings. You'd never guess this was part of the metro parks system and free to rent. He probably never considered going anywhere free. A flash of red through a window told her they weren't truly alone, and it was slightly off-putting. Even when she got them alone they weren't really, how did he stand it?

"No family time?"

"Not if I can help it," he said under his breath. "No, I wasn't planning on family time. My family doesn't have much use for social visits."

She laughed at his odd phrasing. "Then what are visits for?!"

"Favors, money, entertainment… I can't imagine just sitting down with my mother and asking her about her life. She would think I had lost my mind." He absently drank more of his soda. "How about that one, do you know what that one is?"

"Easy, that's a lace aloe."

He had clearly found a game that appealed to him. "What about that one in the corner? The pink one?"

"Pink frost. It's even in the name so it's hard to forget." She gave him a look. "You have no idea how many weird locations my dad took me to as a kid. He would drill me in the names as we walked. Not a lot else to do as we walked. If nothing else I have a really good memory."

Rufus gave her a mysterious look. "Oh I think you have more to offer. How about that one that looks like a spear?"

"Devil's tongue." For some reason she blushed as she said it, unable to look at him. "Are you hungry? I didn't make everything, but I did make the chicken salad. It's pretty good if I say so myself. And the oranges are great; did you know they're a winter fruit? They're picked earlier but they get ripe in winter. I have persimmons too; I dried them in the oven."

There was some time where they were unpacking food and Rufus accepted everything politely, taking a bite from each item before revisiting the things he seemed to like. The chicken salad was indeed a winner, and she felt gratified something homemade would pass muster. She'd been talking resolutions absently as she munched. Light reflected in the corner of her eye and she turned her face to the water.

"I had been thinking, what with the new year and all, a little birdy has been telling me I should be more honest about the things I want." Tifa smiled down at her empty soda can and squeezed it to feel the aluminum flex.

Rufus quirked an eyebrow at her. "It's hard to believe you don't know what you want."

"It's not that I don't know, I just keep waiting for that one moment where it seems like it's the time to get it, and then that moment never seems to come." Somehow the can had been crushed in her grip, she hadn't even noticed she'd done it.

"Tifa," As usual his use of her name jolted her from her internal struggles. "There's never a perfect moment. The clouds don't open up. Choirs don't sing. Crowds of people will not clap. People who talk about fate, or perfection, they're really talking about luck. And you have to make your own luck." He brushed crumbs off his hands and moved the basket from between them on the bench to the ground before scooting closer. "And I make my own luck."

It was such a blatant invitation, and hadn't she been asking him in a roundabout way anyway? Time to conquer her fears and grasp the moment the way she never did with Cloud, the way she never thought she was capable of doing. Dropping her can on the ground she suddenly clutched his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. It was just as good as she remembered from the first time, and verged on sinfully better as his surprise at her aggression allowed her to take the lead. Once he came back to himself he put a hand on her hip and leaned into her. Repression and denial had been her watch words but she was tired of playing it safe, even if this was the very man she should be playing it safe with. As the bench arm bit into her lower back she considered taking it to the grass when both a scream and splash startled both Rufus and her into absolute stillness.

Since all she could do was drop her head back from this position Tifa watched the upside-down tableau of Reno and a man in camouflage struggling in the water. Reno had the man in a headlock, feral smile on his face, as they ripped up various lily pads and then crashed into a fern that would probably be sporting a squashed look for a while as a result. The camera in the man's hand, pieces of it in the fountain now, told the rest of the story and Tifa heard Rufus say words under his breath she hadn't supposed someone in high society would know as his weight and heat left her.

It would have been too tempting to go help Reno in his assault so instead she followed Rufus over to Tseng who was watching to proceedings while Elena was on the phone just outside the door. Rufus was uncharacteristically animated as he just about yelled at his grim looking bodyguard. Tifa was collecting her thoughts still, as scattered as they were by all the action.

"You said you secured the location!"

"We arrived sufficiently early at the location to sweep it superficially, but there are always variables." Tseng didn't look any happier than Rufus did, if less flushed.

"What else? There's never just one of them."

Tifa looked from one man to the other and crossed her arms. Blood humming, she needed to do something active. She shifted from foot to foot as Tseng eyed her briefly before speaking to Rufus again.

"As you said, we located a man outside which is why we suspected the interior was compromised."

"So clearly you send the least stealthy one in to take care of it," Tifa wanted to hit someone, still and tried to back some verbal punch instead.

Tseng's expression did not falter. "Miss Lockhart, I assure you we only have your safety in mind. With that said I need your permission for Rude to enter your residence."

That was such a left turn that she didn't even have an answer before he continued.

"I anticipated this eventuality and Rude has been dispatched to your residence to examine it for possible breaches. We need your permission before we enter." There was no mention of a key, for some reason that was the most troubling part.

Rufus was massaging his temples like he had a raging headache, eyes closed. Tifa wished she could _do _something instead of stand here answering stupid questions. "So you're saying you think people have bugged my apartment?"

"Audio would be unsurprising, but we are more likely looking for cameras or remote video, ma'am."

"What?! Why?!" Rufus looked over at her with a guilty expression and she schooled herself. "Never mind, don't answer that." It wasn't about her, it wasn't even personal, it was just other people trying to get to Rufus any way they knew how. Apparently, she was associated enough with him now to be a target.

"I recommend you allow us to move you to a secure location while we search."

Testily, she tried to take it all in. "Fine. Ok. Where might that be?"

* * *

Picking at the piano keys, she heard one that clearly sounded flat and pressed it a few more times. This room, his whole house really, had become all too familiar to her. The most impressive thing, she thought, was how there was no dust anywhere. With all the shelves and art and details on the baseboards there was not a scrap of dirt anywhere. You could even see her fingerprints where she had been fiddling with the piano. The people who cleaned never seemed to be here when she was here, and she wondered how much you had to pay someone to be invisible. Rufus swept into the room looking grim and controlled and still devastatingly handsome in his concern, and she wondered how much she'd have to pay someone to become personally invisible to the outside world.

"How do you handle it? This sort of life?" She looked at him framed in the large archway that divided the rooms from one another and then turned back to the piano.

She felt him settle next to her on the small piano bench, his thigh resting comfortably against hers. There had been a whole car ride to be angry about the state of things, and now she was coming to a place of acceptance but she needed something from him. He had to make this more worth it somehow.

"I wasn't given a choice, so I don't know any differently." He didn't turn to look at her but she could see his face in profile and it seemed oddly expressionless. "I remember when I was eight or nine and I skinned my knee during some holiday or other and it was all over a foreign tabloid. You know what my father told me? He said next time I shouldn't cry, I was too old for it. My mother told me to bleed less."

His family life sounded horrific, but Tifa kept that opinion to herself. "Well, I'm not crying, but I do need advice. Tell me why this, all of this, is going to be ok."

Rufus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You fixed my leg." He finally said, thoughtfully.

"You're not done with your therapy yet…"

"Hear me out first." She stopped picking at the keyboard and looked at him, even if he still wouldn't meet her eyes. "You know I have board members, assistants, executives, accountants… hundreds of people I interact with on a daily basis and they all had a number I could call or they knew a guy but until I met you no one offered any of themselves for me, honestly, without looking to gain something. I've been President Shinra for long enough that I'm becoming the job."

Rufus gave a shuddering laugh, devoid of humor and almost nervous. "I think that if you walk away now I'll forget how to be human."

If that was asking her to stay, it wasn't phrased like any question she had been asked before. And dammit it was working anyway! She felt herself softening towards him, imagining the little boy who was coached into being the cold teen and eventually became the broken man. Tifa leaned her head on his shoulder and felt him exhale all at once, posture still rigid. She was keeping him human huh?

The early winter dusk was on them and the parlor was warm and sleepy. She loved being needed, it fed her sense of purpose, and she felt gently bound by his entreaty. Healing people is what she did, listening and coaching, and if he was asking her for that then how in the world could she turn away? The arm he put around her, the side hug too stiff to be a prelude to seduction and looking for reassurance simply underlined to her how much he both needed and wanted her. Tifa understood this, and for a moment she felt like she understood the man next to her. Here, she thought, was her perfect moment.

Kissing him gently on the cheek his eyes turned down to look at her, no longer glassy and lost in whatever memory he had drenched his thoughts in. Rufus didn't move, he let her take her time to kiss his chin, the corner of his lip, the side of his neck—his breathing was shallow and fast. Feeling bold, Tifa stood up next to him and then straddled his lap facing him. Kissing him softly, mouth closed at first, she felt how much he enjoyed it from their intimate position as she was rocking her hips against him with the barest momentum. When she slid her tongue past his lips he leaned back, breaking their kiss entirely.

"I can't take any more teasing, Tifa. I'm not that noble." The groan that lay under his voice just fired up the dark grasping feeling driving her and she smiled devilishly at him. Every single part of him was tensed underneath her and she felt so powerful like this that she wasn't about to let it stop.

"No teasing," she agreed. So she climbed off of him, immediately missing the insistent pressure between them, but firm in her resolve. This was the only place, and the only time, they finally had some true privacy and there was something she had been wanting for a while without putting a name to it.

He was clearly trying to gain some sense of sanity back when she said clearly from behind him. "So is your room upstairs on the left or the right?"

Rufus knocked the piano bench over in his haste to stand up. He didn't answer her as he stalked towards her and crushed her against his chest while claiming her mouth again. No, the time for teasing was well past. Tifa would have what she wanted in this moment, conscience and consequences be damned.

* * *

The door opened and Rufus wandered in, his eyes heavy with sleep. His mouth quirked seeing her at the sink but he wandered past her to the door that led to the toilet. Was he seriously going to use the bathroom with her in it? She supposed it was his bathroom and there was a door between the two of them but being in a bathroom together felt even more intimate somehow than their bedroom activities.

When he emerged he gave her a funny look until she gathered her wits and moved out of the way so he could wash his hands. In nothing but his boxer briefs he dried his hands and those same sleepy eyes looked over her quizzically. Tifa realized with a start she had been staring at him while he did these perfectly normal things as if she were observing a wild animal. More than just her face flushed as she tried to get over her embarrassment.

"Regrets?" His one word, spoken so casually was said with a hint of humor, but there was no smile to accompany it on his face.

"No." She blurted out, realizing that if nothing else she wanted him to know she didn't consider what they had done a mistake. While she had doubts about other parts of this adventure she had certainly confirmed how very physically compatible they were. If she thought of their physical therapy appointments like non-date dates then she wouldn't even feel like she'd rushed things.

"Good. Then come back to bed," he made no move to touch her then as he left, but her body swayed towards him as she flipped the light switch to the bathroom and climbed into the sheets next to him. When he curled himself around her and sighed into her hair as his breathing evened out into sleep once more she tried to calm her racing thoughts.

In the end the only things she could decide on with any certainty is that she wished she had taken her bra off first because it was digging into her side and that she was, despite telling herself this couldn't be so, officially emotionally involved.


	13. Breakfast

My wedding happened. There was that. Followed swiftly by the loss of another family member in one of those senseless and tragic moments that just kill your spirit. I hate talking about it like a "loss" in a way as if you'll turn a corner and "find" them again. My wedding was sandwiched by death, and my honeymoon will be sandwiched by memorials. May break from finishing this while I pull myself together again, as romantic inspiration and grief don't seem to mix well in something meant to be humorous, but here is the portion I finished before my inner life fractured.

I'll try to cobble together some inspiration in the near future once I can get past the impossible weight in my heart.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

He woke up suddenly, pupils constricting in the light, and she wasn't there. Rufus reached a hand out, finding the spot she had vacated cold, and worried fancifully if he'd have to hunt her through the woods to drag her back to his cave. His phone was not in its usual spot by the bed so he had no idea what time it was, but he rose with a sense of urgency and dressed efficiently. His clothes still on the floor were a visual reminder of the night before and he looked over them with masculine satisfaction as he buttoned his shirt. He hadn't thought Tifa would be so skittish this morning, and he had looked forward to waking up next to her. It was a sentimental reaction he wasn't about to admit to her, but for once he felt like he'd been a little used and discarded.

Admissions of weakness the day before notwithstanding, he had honestly thought that once Rude finished sweeping her rooms she was going to turn around and disappear from his life. It's what he would have done in her position. Without knowing what to say or how to comfort her, somehow she had taken his words and turned them into something passionate instead of desperate. He wasn't sure if she had left that he would have been able to leave her alone, anyway. No wasn't something he was willing to accept in this circumstance.

Running hands quickly through his hair, spurning a shower for a hasty exit to discover what had become of Tifa, he opened the door and just about ran into her holding a glass of juice in each hand. Relief flooded through Rufus, chilling him with the knowledge that had feared her abandonment much more than he would have initially admitted.

"All you had in your kitchen that I recognized was grapefruit juice. Then the cook found me and shooed me out. You have no idea how hard it is to find anything in your kitchen! It was like wandering through a stainless steel dungeon." She smiled a little bit shyly and he wanted to kiss her again while her hands were full, but refrained.

"Thank you." Truthfully he hated the acidic stuff, and it was probably something one of his Turks had in the morning, but he drank a third of the glass that he took from her without so much as flinching. He needed breakfast and a cigarette in that order now that the jangling of his nerves was to no purpose. If the cook had just arrived it was earlier than he thought.

"Breakfast will be served soon enough, if you'd like to join me." He tried to sound gracious, knowing full well she was trapped here until he let her go. Maybe if he strung one meal into two she would just… stay.

"Depends on what's for breakfast," she said being playful but blushing furiously like the words weren't hers.

Rufus wasn't sure he liked her awkward and bashful like this. "If it exists in my kitchen you're welcome to it."

Taking both their glasses of juice and setting them on the desk just inside the room, he led her out and down the stairs to the small breakfast room adjacent to the kitchen. The Turks in residence today were eating their own breakfast, often trying to pack in their food before he appeared. Reno had a blueberry muffin halfway down his throat when Tifa appeared next to Rufus in the doorway. The redhead guffawed, choked, then splattered Elena with half chewed muffin as she tried not to stare at them. Tseng and Rude were nowhere to be seen. Tifa looked like she wanted to die of embarrassment. Despite himself, Rufus found himself chuckling.

"Anything pressing on my schedule today?" He directed the question at Elena, walking over to his seat easily and acting like that morning was just like any other. Tifa followed slowly in tow and grabbed a piece of cold toast as she took a seat across from Reno. She picked at the side of a newspaper, clearly not inspired to read about the financial news, and Rufus tried not to stare at her as he focused on Elena's answer.

"You have one phone call from Reeve Tuesti that he said was 'very urgent' and then a dinner meeting with…"

"Cancel it."

"Yes, sir." Elena nodded tightly and gave Reno a side glance as he periodically coughed up muffin bits.

Tifa had perked up at Reeve's name and looked like she was about to ask a question when Reno burst out with his own unsolicited commentary.

"They found like four different cameras in her apartment last night and Tseng left all in a huff this morning to talk to someone." Reno smiled at her while Rufus evaluated the way the blood had completely left her face. Rage was sure to follow shock. Undoubtedly, this was not how he had imagined the morning after. "Tseng left a signal jammer for her since everything looked remote. Ya' just need to remember to turn it off before ya' try to use your computer. Or make a phone call."

"What kind of sick people do things like that?!" Tifa brought a fist down on the table, making all the plates clatter. "I'm not anybody, why the hell would they care?!" She sank down into her seat, hands balling into the thick hair near her scalp as she tried not to lose her temper further.

Rufus was surprised she hadn't thrown a bigger tantrum. He remembered back to the first time he had collected enough proof to determine his father had bugged his suite of rooms at home, and how tempted to destroy everything he had been. Being fifteen had sucked, knowing that everything he did was being reported on to his father. It had taught him containment, it had more importantly taught him patience, and he tried to recall that first heady moment years ago so he could empathize with Tifa now and came up with nothing. All that was left was the selfish wish that this wouldn't break her, or break whatever they were to one another.

God, he needed that cigarette.

"I'm stepping out for a smoke." Tifa, face down on the table, groaned something in acknowledgement and he found himself chuckling again.

It was damnably cold outside. She would go home tonight, he figured, as he watched smoke curl towards the grey heavens. At home she would second guess everything around her, wondering if all the cameras had been found. Once your own space isn't safe it's like someone desecrated your personal holy ground. Tifa was a fighter, she would want to know who was responsible and then revenge herself in some manner, but Rufus had no names to give her. Certainly he had suspicions, but there were so many people, groups, corporations, and media outlets that would be interested in him and by extension her that he couldn't even conjecture a shortlist. It would be a waste of energy, really, since she didn't live in a particularly secure building. If anyone could find anything Tseng would.

Finally picking his phone out of his pocket he dialed the number with frigid fingers and took a deep draw of his cigarette while Reeve's phone rang. It was about dinner time for Reeve, so Rufus wasn't surprised when he picked up quickly. The smoke eased through his teeth as he growled at Reeve.

"So what's so important you need to interrupt my day off?"

"Ha. You don't take days off." His voice crackled with distance and humor. "And I just wanted to make sure you knew that that thing I was working on, I finally got it to run. You're going to make a lot more money very quickly. You'll have to pile it all up and use it as fuel it will be so worthless to you. Is this a good time to mention that I should get a raise?"

Reeve's most expensive and time consuming project had been to create a more efficient process to refine oil while still complying with the recent and vastly stricter environmental regulations. If his team had found a way then Rufus need to make sure the implementation costs were worth a fast move. It was incredibly good news indeed, just the kind of industry edge that would take him from corporation to empire in no time flat. The weird urge to run in and share his happiness with Tifa had him dropping his still lit cigarette and snuffing it out with his shoe heel before it even processed how weird it was that he wanted to tell her anything.

"You there? Where's my congratulations?" Reeve's voice startled Rufus back to reality.

"Good work, Tuesti. I might even give you some extra vacation time for this one."

"Damn straight you are. And I might even take it. I missed out on having a life for this, and now I'm going to live it up until you get it moved into production." Rufus couldn't fault his friend there, having been carving out time for Tifa that normally would have been used for the Shinra business concerns. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to the wild party I'm throwing for my team to celebrate a job well done. I'm treating them all to dinner and I'm already regretting it!"

Rufus laughed and hung up the phone.

Tifa peeked her head out the door, shivering as the cold wind bit at her. "Breakfast just landed if you're interested."

"I'll be in soon." He enjoyed the toothy smile she shot at him before she shut the door. It seemed almost obscene he could feel so… happy.


	14. Conclusions

Last chapter! I don't like leaving things unfinished so here we are. Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed this. I reread everything (oh lordy the typos!) and I'm overall pretty happy with the result. I think I was more surprised at how Rufus in this evolved than Tifa because the more I think about it the more I think he was the one that grew while Tifa is still struggling to let go and trust. Maybe there's something about how if you're very guarded, once you let someone in they're IN. I didn't expect him to be like that... :O

There is much more that could be told, but I figured instead of me hemming and hawing forever and producing nothing we can skip straight to some closure, of a sort.

Until Rufus and Tifa strike me again… 3 you all. It's been an adventure. :D

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

After all these years September made her feel like it was back to school. She still found herself unconsciously buying new clothes in late August, and one year Tifa even found herself in the aisle of the store with all the binders and pencils with something akin to longing. It was a lot simpler then, even if then included graduate school and rolled right up to fairly recently. It was an entirely new feeling in September to be sneaking around the feminine care aisle looking for pregnancy tests.

Life with Rufus had been like a dream, but one of those dreams where you spend a lot of time confused and things just happen one after another until you're not really sure how you ended up in a room full of people you don't know asking you questions but the dominant thought is that you really hope you remembered to put on underwear. Paparazzi were like gnats for a while, and she had gotten used to flash bulbs going off randomly in the corner of her eye at times she should have suspected it but didn't. It was the absolutely worst way for her dad to find out about her dating Rufus Shinra, but the picture hadn't been totally unflattering even if the accompanying article had ripped her apart. They had found her worst yearbook photo (sophomore year) and featured it rather prominently in one of those 'then and now' spreads which was both life affirming and absolutely embarrassing.

Did you know you could receive both fan and hate mail just for dating someone? Tifa would not have guessed it until they started trickling in. The Turks screened her mail now, so she wouldn't have to bother with it, and she almost preferred it to how it was before because the only things she had to think about were bills and the various circulars and fundraising attempts from her schools. No more sifting through the coupon spreads to make sure something important hadn't gotten mixed in. That was a major improvement, and you had to appreciate the small things.

No hat could hide all her hair sufficiently and Tifa knew the sunglasses would make her even more suspicious, so she casually moved her cart down the aisle and grabbed tampons she knew for a fact she hadn't needed for more than a month as well as surreptitiously shoving in two different pregnancy tests just in case she screwed one up. Yuffie, whip cord thin and prone to exercising a little too much, had told her how easy these things were to use when she had had her own pregnancy scare a few years ago. It had turned out she just needed to eat more and exercise a little less, but the memory had stuck in Tifa's mind as she piled a bunch of other random groceries on top of the tests in an attempt to obscure them from both others and herself.

"I'm still hoping for a warm autumn," the checkout clerk said in bubbly tones while giving Tifa that stare that said she knew her from somewhere but just couldn't place her. Tifa's fifteen minutes had largely been up in early June when Scarlet, who probably was choking on her own jealousy, had announced her marriage to a very rich and very old man and spending gobs of money on outlandish wedding preparations only to break it off in August with a firm refusal to return said gentleman's hunker of a diamond engagement ring. There was a pending civil suit which Tifa knew nothing about except the grocery store headlines like today's "Scarlet goes for the throat!" with a picture of the blond pointing a crimson nail and yelling something. Tifa wondered if it would be appropriate to send the woman a thank you card for getting the press off her back, but thought twice about it.

Tifa watched the puppy chow (what the hell had she grabbed!) and heads of cabbage pass down the line right in front of the pregnancy tests which in turn were followed by a bag of cookies and some hot sauce, but thankfully the clerk said nothing. She wondered if guys felt this mortified buying condoms, and then smiled at the thought of Rufus having to stand in a grocery store line to buy anything let alone condoms.

"Forecast says rain this weekend, but warm rain! I was going to jog outside, but oh well." Tifa laughed nervously, knowing she planned no such thing. The real plan was avoid Yuffie's phone calls while she was a bag of nerves or avoid Yuffie's phone calls while she tried to think of what to say to Rufus.

Even thinking of him conjured up that feeling inside, like her soul was still on his yacht getting unwisely burned off the coast of Costa del Sol and lazily wondering what weird local dish he wanted to try that night. It had been a good vacation, as dear a memory to her as hiking with her father earlier that year, but maybe a little too good as the cashier rang up her purchases finally.

"Well you need any help to your car?"

"No thanks, I've got it all." Tifa flashed a smile, hopefully showing none of her nerves, which the cashier answered.

She still took the bus. Rufus and Tseng fought with her endlessly about it but Tifa turned a blind eye to the offers of a chauffeur and she had promptly "lost" the keys to the car Rufus had tried to give her earlier in the year. Never was she more grateful for hanging on to this piece of independence as in this moment. Facing someone who knew her well while trying to accomplish this task would have merely ended in all sorts of dumb questions at how weird she was acting. As it was, Yuffie knew something was up and was circling her like a text messaging buzzard.

_Let's pretend_, she told herself, _for the sake of argument that even though you're late and showing no symptoms of any kind and you were very careful that you just happen to be… you know… is it a happy thing or a scary thing_?

Scary. That was the gut reaction. Terrifying. Her body slowly transforming and betraying her and ending in another human being that relied on her for survival. She felt like she only just had a handle on her own life.

But happy, too. After all, babies were wonderful! She wasn't too old or too young, she had a stable income in a job that could give her slightly flexible hours, and tons of friends that would support her and be overjoyed for her. Barrett would immediately try to foist all the baby clothes on her that his wife insisted they keep in storage just in case. And then there was Rufus…

Back to scary then!

Her leg would not stop twitching and she felt like every stop was there to personally irritate her until she leapt out near her apartment complex and charged like a bull towards the elevator. A tornado of anxious energy now, Tifa unlocked her door and threw all the bags at the couch heedless of how they landed or if the contents flung themselves everywhere but their target and smashed a finger down on the button that, should the apartment be bugged, jam every signal within a spherical distance that included all her living spaces. Her adjoining apartments had been well compensated by Rufus for the inconvenience this caused the various people living near her, and Tifa turned a blind eye to that particular help because it was his fault in a way and she didn't want to live in fear.

Unwrapping everything as she made her way to the bathroom she was struck by how little there was to it compared to how much she had paid for the two tests. Colors and pluses and minuses or dots and dashes or whatever all ran together as she tried to read the instructions all at once and immediately confused herself with what she was actually looking for. Resolving to read it all after she took some sort of action, she proceeded to discover that actually getting things done was more awkward than she had imagined. Peeing into a cup was simple by comparison.

She set everything up to hurry and wait before washing her hands and then going back into the living room to pick everything up she had scattered in her haste. All the groceries she could see using Tifa put into one bag, and all the ones she couldn't possibly she set aside for donation to a food bank. The puppy chow was a mystery. Did she even know anyone with a dog? Would Rufus' cat eat dog food?

The instructions which had seemed to be written in another language when Tifa first looked at them turned out to be pretty straight forward. It boiled down to two dashes or a plus. Those were the answers that mattered and everything else was white noise. After sorting groceries she had another ten minutes, so she turned on her radio and cursed under her breath when she got nothing but static. It was so easy to forget the jammer, which is why it wasn't on nearly as often as Rufus or the Turks had encouraged it to be on.

They had been so careful, but Tifa knew well enough that when they had run out of condoms on the yacht at the end of their trip there was no skipping off to the store when the time came. She had made a judgment call, Rufus had given her the choice after all, and she didn't think it was wrong. There were other methods to stay relatively safe, but no matter what you did there was always a chance every time that it would end with her trying to remember meditative breathing exercises on her couch.

Ten minutes wasn't long at all but it felt enough like eternity that Tifa figured it didn't make a difference.

* * *

"She's avoiding my calls. Did you have a fight?"

Rufus knew better than to answer the phone when Kisaragi called, but he was actually getting concerned about the fact that Tifa would not answer his calls, emails, or texts. A part of him, so happy these past months, had been waiting for the ball to drop and he wondered if this was it. She had finally gotten sick of the attention and the disruption in her life, of the fact that he only had time to see her a couple times a week and that that time often wasn't very quality as he was distracted by work and she was tired from her own. The gifts he tried to give to her to remind her he cared she had summarily rejected recently, with the only real bright spot being the week they spent sailing in August. They had even managed to be in Costa del Sol and _not_ run into his mother so it had been the best of all worlds.

"Not that it would be any of your business, but no, we did not have a fight that I'm aware of."

"So you might have had a fight, and just not know it yet." Yuffie was annoying like it was her hobby.

Rufus did not have time for this now that he knew Kisaragi had no information for him to glean. It was a Friday night and a cancelled dinner meeting meant he could see Tifa if she had bothered to answer her phone and assuming she still wanted to see him.

Stony silence was all the answer he had for the peppy woman on the other end and she laughed loudly into her mic.

"Remember, if you hurt her, I'll destroy you!" It had started out as a real threat, when Rufus and Yuffie came to a shaky truce that while they both wanted all of Tifa's spare time they had to be willing to share and give up a little bit to the other. Now, Yuffie's warning came across more a playful reminder before she hung up.

He was in his office looking over reports he had already memorized and waiting for Tifa to call as it was much faster to reach her apartment from here than from his house. She didn't particularly like the taste of gin so he was refraining from drinking this evening in hopes of currying favor and learning what it was that had turned her mood sour towards him. It galled him to admit it, but he was arriving at the conclusion that he felt more for her than she felt for him and it stung his pride as much as it worried him. Tifa functioned just fine on her own, in fact there was less for her to deal with without him around, but he felt incomplete without seeing her at least once in the week. He had entertained the idea of offering to have her move in because god knew he had more rooms in the house than he would ever need unless they had a dozen children. If she stuck around that long.

And with that thought he needed a cigarette.

Rufus spent enough time on the roof that it had slowly come to resemble a patio rather than the bleak utilitarian space it was. The helicopter pad now housed a bolted down iron table and chair set. The helicopter was used in his father's day frequently, but Rufus had retired it thinking it expensive and ostentatious in a bad way. An ash tray that looked frequently emptied but really just blown away by the wind gusts was built into the table. Even on calm days it was windy up here and Rufus liked that. A view of the city during the sunset, a pack of cigarettes, and time alone… this was his idea of a mini-vacation. Nothing could touch him up here.

"Oi!"

Reno always did have the voice that carried the best. What could possibly be important enough to bug him now?

Turning his head he caught sight of Reno standing next to Tifa, who had tied her hair into a sensible ponytail in deference to the wind. Reno was behind her and pointing and smiling in a display that was the opposite of subtle happiness. The Turks were probably far too entertained by his private life, but it couldn't be helped if he was going to maintain live-in bodyguards. Tifa gave a shy wave and wrapped herself more tightly in her puffy coat as she came to join him at the table. There was something sorrowful in her eyes, like she had been crying, and he tried to harden himself towards the inevitable.

"Tifa." He said her name casually, drawing smoke deep into his lungs and letting it spiral away from them.

"I'm sorry I haven't been answering your texts… anyone's texts really… I just had a really stressful week." He said nothing and concentrated on her face, memorizing the details of this moment. Already he felt himself becoming brittle and hard in defense of her words. "Now that I'm here with you…"

He could break up with her first, but it only seemed like a possibility of a thought and he knew he wouldn't do it. In fact, there was always the possibility of not allowing her to break up with him. Contrary to what people thought, he had actually heard the word no quite a lot in conjunction with women growing up. Not every beautiful woman wanted to be involved with a man like him, but he had always been graceful about their preference. This moment felt so intensely personal he knew it couldn't be like those other moments. It was a terrible thing in someone's life as they realized they were going to be, in all truth, the crazy ex.

"… here I just don't have the words." She had been talking. Lost in the dark places of his mind, Rufus had missed her rambling preamble.

"If you don't want to say it, then don't say it." It was as close to pleading with her as he would allow himself, but his words were a lash.

Tifa looked up, clearly trying to conquer tears without letting them fall. "Please don't be like this today."

"Like what," Rufus pulled out his lighter and started on cigarette number whatever. "You know what I am." Maybe if they started fighting this would be easier. He could pick on that scab later and point to the words they said and see how it wouldn't have worked anyway.

True to form, she was stronger in anger than sadness. "I came up here to tell you something important but now I'm wondering if this is the right time for this."

"Does it change anything?"

"No." Eyes flashing, he wondered what life without Tifa would be like. He couldn't picture anything but his boardroom. "I can tell you tomorrow or I can tell you today, but I don't want to talk to you when you're being a bastard."

"You mean that doesn't make it easier?"

She rolled her eyes at him and stood up. Her hair flowed out behind her elegantly and he allowed himself to admire the curve of her hips leading up to generous bust and incomparable face. His mother would have a tall order to find a woman to compete with this one, if he ever let her try to play matchmaker. Dying alone sounded suitably dramatic, and he let the thought flit through his mind.

"I will talk to you later, and next time I hope you can put aside whatever mood has possessed you." She looked troubled still, like she wanted to say more, but she set her shoulders and turned her back on him.

* * *

In his office, as midnight approached, he wondered if it was worth it to send Reno out for more gin. The better part of the bottle was gone and he was going to have a screaming hangover the next day but alcohol poisoning sounded like a lot more fun than the conversation he was going to have with Tifa. Maybe, seeing how pitiful he looked in his slept in grey wool suit and greasy hair, she would put it off just another day.

How maudlin he was being. How pitiful. Rufus Shinra destroyed by a woman and he only had himself to blame. Tomorrow he'd suck it up, clean up, and take her tongue lashing like a man. He had heard all the words before, in different tones and different orders, but all the usual words would likely show up: cruel, selfish, distant, inconsiderate, and, depending on their vocabulary, derisive and snide. Nothing he hadn't heard his mother say to his father or vice versa. It was a family tradition of dysfunction.

His phone pinged as it often did, but it was that special one that meant Tifa had changed the setting and it meant it was her or someone she knew. This had been her way of allowing him to screen his texts quickly. Reeve never texted he always called, Wallace still talked to Tifa only, and her other important people had never contacted Rufus directly so that meant it was either Tifa or Kisaragi. He hoped she wasn't breaking up with him by text, that would just be too much.

_OMFG CONGRATS!1111!1!1!_

So it was Kisaragi, in a forwarded reply to both of them. She had always been on the fence about him, her allegiance so closely allied to Tifa she would bend to whatever mood struck her best friend in regards to him. This seemed a little cold, even for her.

Scrolling up casually he noticed that Tifa had sent no text to her best friend just a picture of two funny looking thermometers and one of them had a plus sign while the other had two stripes….

Oh holy fuck.

"Reno!" Rufus, his voice hoarse from the alcohol, yelled out as he sprung into action. He clumsily made it to his feet from where he had been sitting on the ground leaning against his desk and was lurching towards the bathroom as the Turk ran in and came to attention. Rufus didn't raise his voice, he just didn't, and the young man clearly looked concerned. They were almost the same age, but Rufus suddenly felt like he had matured another thirty years.

"Yessir!"

"I need a hundred roses delivered to Tifa's apartment in the next hour. If I get there before they do there will be hell to pay!" He looked at his already red eyes and knew he reeked of booze. "Get me water and coffee, hot or cold doesn't matter, just get it!"

"Hot water and hot coffee, boss?" The look Rufus shot Reno made him yelp. "Right, boss! On my way!"

Rufus looked in the mirror and mulled over how he felt he looked like a father already. Gleefully he thought that even if she left him in the future, Lockhart was always going to be stuck with a piece of him, though now that he knew he had read her all wrong earlier. Today was the best damn day of his life. If he had to camp out on her doorstep until she understood that, he would, hangover and all. That partially might have been the alcohol talking, but he was sure he wasn't taking no for an answer tonight as he proved to her he was ready for her not so secret news.

He may have all the money and the power he could use but walking around out there in the woman he loved was his legacy and he was going to do them both right, not like how his parents raised him. Every good empire needed an heir, and he knew that whatever fears Tifa had, which probably were about him not wanting this child, were laughable.

Maybe once she had the baby he could use it as leverage to get her to agree to move in with him at the very least, and (this was pie in the sky here) get married! No more nearly empty house, no more mother butting into his life with matchmaking schemes—he would have a real family. She would think it was too soon, but they had known one another since high school and that had to count for something.

"Holy hell," he laughed at himself in the mirror, "I'm such a fucking _sap_." But he couldn't bring himself to hate that.

* * *

Rufus wandered through the hospital wing, away from where his mother was being furtively moved from her private room to a transport to detox and rehab. If she hadn't fainted at tea with her friends and ended up in the hospital she might have ODed for real this time. A family member needed to be present for the public hospital to legally discharge her and it would have been too high profile to send his father so here he was, fourteen and hating both his parents more desperately than he could remember at any time previous to now.

All the paperwork was being done and soon enough his father's people would find him and haul him back to the mansion and he would have to sit there while the lawyers talked to his father about what to expect. Never this bad before, he wondered if they would get a divorce idly and was shocked when he realized he didn't care what the answer was even as a hypothetical. It was all so tedious, and he wondered if this was how it was for normal people. With his visitor badge on, no one bothered to stop him as he made his way down hallways and into elevators. Might as well make it hard for them to find him, it was the only passive aggressive rebellion he could get away with without serious repercussions.

Nurses with clipboards were everywhere and someone else wheeled a huge machine out of a pair of double doors, so he slipped behind them before they closed. This wing was quieter and darker than the others he had been down, and so the sobbing was all the easier to hear from a room to the right.

Morbidly curious, he peeked around the corner to see a bald woman stroke the long dark hair of a girl who had her face firmly planted in the blankets near the woman's hip. She sounded as broken as Rufus felt, and he looked up at the handwritten name on the door. _Lockhart._

Rufus knew of one Lockhart, since it was a pretty uncommon name, and it belonged to a girl in his year but not his class with a pretty face and an impressive rack. He was too male not to have tracked her progress every time she entered the lunchroom. Here at least was someone who understood about disease and family, and maybe even more about pain, and he wanted to go talk to her. She would get it, he felt, but he also was aware enough to realize he was seeing something private and he wasn't really welcome here. Rufus was a third wheel everywhere these days, not old enough to be useful and not young enough to be left alone to his own devices.

But he would remember this he was sure, remember her, and maybe someday his time would come.


End file.
