Title: Beyond Good and Evil; 36. – Dreamin' of You
Authors: aenigmadarai and kawree
Pairing[s]: Reno/Tifa, and some hints of Tseng/Elena. Some one-sided Cloud/Tifa, a dash of blink-and-you'll-miss-it Rosalind/Tseng, and maybe some eventual Yuffie/Cloud if the planets align properly.
Rating: R for some chapters which will contain graphic imagery.
Summary: In which there is subterfuge and cruelty to electronics.


7^th Heaven, Edge; 01:14
Wednesday, October 27^th 1999

Last call had been about fifteen minutes ago, and it'd only taken that long for the rest of her customers to drift out of the bar, leaving Reno and his partner sitting alone at the counter. "Well, that was fair easy," Tifa remarked, skirting out from behind the bar and making her way to the door, locking it so no one else would come in. "Now I've got you boys all to myself. If you promise not to rat me out..." Pausing, she considered for a moment and then chuckled to herself, "Though since I've been pouring you absinthe all night, you've got a little more dirt on me than simply selling after hours. Would you like something?" she offered; now that everyone else was out of the way, she really had no problem offering him unblended absinthe.

"How about you, some more coffee?" she inquired of Reno, grinning a little bit. "Or are you about ready to call it a night?"

Rude lifted a finger and opened his mouth to start to make some manner of request, and Reno snapped his arm up and clapped his hand over Rude's lips to silence him. "We...we really should get going," he said, giving Tifa a knowing look, and then he glanced up at his partner. "Right, Rude?" he said pointedly. "I mean...well, I'm supposed to be convalescing and all--"

"You didn't have any problems being here up 'til now," Rude pointed out, and Reno grimaced.

"Well, ah...oh, but it's getting so late, yo," he countered; "I should really get going. I mean...these painkillers are really ah...wearin' me out."

Rude met his eye, capping his sunglasses. "Well, if you're really that insistent," he began, and Reno started to get up with the intention of leading his partner out into the night to part ways and head home (and by 'home' he really meant 'around the back and through the kitchen door to hang out with Tifa some more'), "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

Reno facefaulted and nearly tripped over his own feet, barely catching himself on the edge of the counter. "Wait--what?" he barked, and Rude tilted his head.

"Reno, if you really feel all that unwell maybe you should go home after all," he said, gesturing at his drink, which was still about a third full, "but I'd like to finish my drink and talk with Tifa. It's been a while."

"Buh--wha? You ain't comin' with me?" Reno cried in dismay.

"Reno you're a big boy."

"I am injured, yo!" he countered. "What if I was to be accosted on my way home?"

Rude just quirked one eyebrow. "Oh Reno for crying out loud," he said with a roll of his eyes; "you're Reno of the Turks. No one but a complete idiot is going to try and take you on anyway."

The redhead looked crestfallen, and hung on the corner of the counter a moment, not quite sure what to do now. Play up being injured? Maybe if he fell on the floor and writhed around in pain... Naw, Rude would probably see right through that. What if he pretended to pass out? ...Well, no, then everyone would actually worry.

He frowned at Tifa, pleading silently for her to do something ingenious.

Tifa, for one, was amused at his antics, though she wasn't really aware of exactly why Rude wanted to stick around and hang out with her alone after hours. She figured it was for the absinthe, and possibly for reconnaissance, though the Turks had probably given that up long ago. Though, considering the fact that Rude was Reno's best friend, he was probably doing it as a way to extend their stay--Reno wasn't going to run off and leave his best friend to get plastered all by himself.

Unless...Reno was trying to get Rude to go home so he could sneak in and hang out with her for a while. Idiot. "Reno, you're injured, and you shouldn't be staying out late. It's probably best if you go home and rest tonight, yeah?" Hopefully he wouldn't think she'd turned on him or whatever melodramatic and ridiculous assumption was probably bounding through that head of his. She couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.

He gaped at her--betrayed!!--and then hung his head. "Well. Fine. If you guys are just gonna make poor defenseless little old me walk home all by his lonesome halfway across town, then I guess I'll go," he lamented exaggeratedly. "Sure hope I make it home in one piece. Ain't like I'd be able to kick anyone's ass in this sort of shape."

Rude snorted. "Reno, you've kicked ass with injuries twice that bad," he shot back with a fond grin. "Stop whining and have some more coffee, or stop whining and go home."

Reno straightened, folding his arms over his chest and pouting grandly. Then he turned with a huff and headed for the door. "Fine, fine, I see how it is, yo," he said with mock spite. He made his way to the door, limping grandiosely and mostly unnecessarily in a last-ditch plea for sympathy, then reached up to unlock the bolt and glanced back over his shoulder. "Don't let him get too rowdy," he warned, wagging a finger at her. "If he starts giving you lip, you punch him good for me, you hear?" He gave his little trademark two-fingered salute, then tugged the door open. "Catch you on the flipside, Tifa," he called, and the door swung shut behind him.

"Yeah? You too," she chuckled his way, shaking her head a little and casting a somewhat hesitant smile Rude's way. She...hadn't really been expecting Reno to leave. "You're really not gonna go after him?" checked the barmaid, suddenly a little worried about Reno getting accosted on his way home, though Rude did have a point--no one in their right mind would pester Reno of the Turks. "Not that I'm hinting at anything; you're welcome to stay as long as you like, really." She was a little uncomfortable being alone with the big burly man who was drinking absinthe--she probably wouldn't be able to take him down if need be--but she trusted Reno and as such, she trusted Reno's friends. If Reno felt okay with leaving her alone with Rude, then it was safe.

Rude cleared his throat, feeling color rise inexplicably in his cheeks. Luckily it was mostly indiscernible against his natural skintone. He rubbed the back of his neck, then swirled his drink. "He just wants attention," the big man explained. "It's pretty rare he actually gets injured badly enough to warrant fawning; he's disappointed with the amount of mothering he's gotten for it this time around."

She laughed at that, slipping out from behind the bar again and bolting the door, shaking her head and flipping up chairs. "That or he's upset that he had to stay sober tonight. I wasn't about to let him get blitzed and end up cracking his head open on top of whatever he's got already. Boy's got enough brain damage for one lifetime; I don't want to be behind any more."

The big man let out a throaty chuckle, shaking his head. "He really is a handful, isn't he?" he asked, and gave Tifa an inquiring look. "You two know each other pretty well, then, huh." It wasn't really a question. "This is his favorite bar these days. It's good to know you two managed to let the water pass under the bridge."

Tifa permitted herself a nostalgic smile, and she nodded, leaning on the bar beside him. "Yeah...he came in one night and just...apologized to me. It...kind of blew my mind; he just walked in, apologized, and left, and then...started coming back more and more often. We had a bunch of fights and stuff--I locked him out once, after Meteor when winter didn't end. He didn't even come back for his coat, not for a while anyway..." She realized she was chatting a bit too much about Rude's dorky and lovable partner, and so she just coughed a little and laughed. "It's...good we managed to become friends, really. I don't know what we would have done about Kadaj and all--" An involuntary shudder took her and she shoved it roughly to the back of her mind.


Reno's face twisted into a scowl where he was flattened against the wall near the kitchen door, his ear cocked to the opening. What in all hell was she doing, bringing up stuff like that?? Was she trying to make it sound like they were dating? He fisted his hands and leaned a little closer to the door, grimacing as his hip twinged. Nngh...it really was painful... He honestly couldn't decide if he was flattered they apparently had enough faith in him as a capable opponent not to worry that he was theoretically trekking across town all alone at half-past one in the morning...or indignant that they weren't more concerned for his obviously weakened state. Something in him wanted to just up and go home to see if anyone did try and assault him, just to see if he was in fact still intact enough to put up a good fight.

But he didn't want to find out what would happen if the answer was no. So he stayed put. Besides. They were talking about him. It wasn't often a man got to hear his best friend and his girlfriend talk candidly about him to one another. He almost wished he'd brought a recording device. ...Maybe he could record some of it on the mic in his PHS...


Rude looked bemused. "He apologized?" he echoed, capping his shades to peer at her with startlingly hazel eyes. The glasses slid back into place then, and he leaned back, folding his hands on the counter. "That's rare. Reno doesn't apologize for much of anything. He must have felt...very bad about the whole thing."

He knew all too well just how bad Reno had felt. The redhead had been taken off-duty for three whole days, but certainly not for the cracked ribs and bruised pride he had suffered during that fight atop the Sector Seven plate. The fractures had been Cured and the bruises would have been gone in twenty-four hours--even those to his dignity. Reno had been taken off-duty for much less tangible injuries. Rude had never seen his partner's eyes look so haunted as they had that night when the redhead had returned from the sick wing to the Turk residence floor. Those glowing turquoise eyes had been faded and hollow, shadowed with something much more sinister than any rage he'd ever seen therein...for while many people had seen Reno angry, there were only a select few who had ever seen the man grieve, and it was a painful and gut-wrenching thing to see.

Shaking away those dusty old thoughts, Rude threw back the rest of his drink and regarded Tifa then. "I'm glad we were able to help," he admitted. "It was nice to ally under that common banner again; I am happy that we might be able to be friends instead of just allies in times of war."

"Yeah," she agreed softly. "I'd like to eventually be friends with all of you. I knew Rosalind from before...and Vincent is my friend, and he works with you guys. Same with Reeve--I mean, it's not impossible, not unbreachable. It's...a pretty tall fence, but it's not one we can't climb." Laughing fondly, she mentioned, "My Denzel thinks you Turks are just about the coolest thing ever. He was a big fan of 'the guy with the dot' before Reno set him straight. These days he likes you two and Andrew the best, probably because he wants to learn to use an EMR. Damn kid's like...eight years old."

Rude looked surprised. "He wants to use an EMR?" he asked, and then chuckled. "I suppose maybe we could get him one, if he wants one that badly. I'm sure I don't have to tell you it's not a toy, though; he seems like a smart kid, but they pack a mean wallop. Reno's almost killed himself with that thing at least three times." Rude didn't comment on 'the guy with the dot', but if Tifa was paying attention, she might have noticed just how amused he seemed by that.

With a little grin, Tifa looked over Rude's face, managing to pick up on his faint smile. "Yeah, his birthday's next month, so I was thinking about maybe getting Reno to pull a bunch of strings for me so I could get him one. It wouldn't work, obviously--the EMR, not Reno's string-pulling, I mean--not until he learned how to use it, but...man, he thinks they're the coolest things ever..." She paused and lifted her eyes to Rude's, something very genuine in her expression. "I...really love my son; I never got to thank you for...everything you did to find him when...yeah. So, thank you. Better late than never, I guess."

"I am glad we were able to help," he said. "Despite the unsavory things the Turks have had to do, I don't like to see people hurt if I can help it. I'm glad your children were able to be saved." Rude shifted uncomfortably. He never knew what to say when anyone offered him gratitude--it happened so infrequently, after all. And this...this was Tifa. He felt his face heat up again, and cleared his throat. "I'm...sure we can do something," he said intelligently, and then glanced at his watch. --Wow, it was already nearly two? He frowned at his watch and then lifted his gaze to Tifa, looking exceedingly unnerved. He had just spent half an hour alone with the most beautiful, competent, kindhearted enemy-turned-ally he knew. This was... This was...

He quickly stood up. "Thank you for the drink and the company," he said stiffly, rubbing his bald head in a fidget. "I...should probably call Reno and make sure he got home all right."

Wait, why was he telling her? It wasn't like he needed permission.

"...Yeah, okay. It usually takes him about fifteen minutes to walk home?" she inquired, realizing that maybe she shouldn't divulge that she knew how long it took Reno to get home, and so she turned her statement about his travel times into a question mid-sentence. "With his luck, he might have gotten hit by a car again, after all."

Rude started to nod in response to her question, then gave a start when she suggested he might have gotten hit by a car again on his way. He peered alarmedly at her a moment, then flipped open his phone.


Reno grinned wickedly from the kitchen, his mouth curled up like a cat's. Oh this was delicious! Rude would call him, now worried that he had been hit by a car again (oh, Tifa, you sly fiend you! That was brilliant!), and he wouldn't answer. And then he would wait about seven or eight minutes, just long enough for Rude to get really worried--'Oh, why isn't he answering his phone? Oh dear, I should have gone with him after all!'--and he would call him back, apologize for missing the call--'I was in the shower, yo! Sorry!' Oh it would be perfect! See if Rude ever did anything mean like that aga--

His victorious inner monologue was cut short when there was a loud obnoxious jangling sound from the pocket of his jacket, and Reno's blood ran cold.

Fuck! he mouthed, doubling over as if he could muffle the sound with his body. His hand dove into his pocket and he retrieved his phone, the display brightly lit and cheerfully displaying 'RUDE' on the screen. In a sudden panic, Reno threw the phone--

--and it slammed against the far wall by the fridge, shattering into several pieces.

"...Oops."

He clapped both hands over his mouth then and dropped to a crouch--"Ow ow ow!"--hissing through his teeth as his aching hips protested fiercely to this posture, and he scuttled around to the side of the table, hoping Tifa would realize what had happened and...make up some miraculous excuse for him.

...Well, at least the phone had stopped ringing...


Tifa was too busy standing shellshocked to make much of any excuse; her mouth was hanging open and she managed to close it, trying to think. Gods, Reno had been waiting in the back room this whole time? And he hadn't even put his phone on silent--wasn't he eavesdropping? Why'd he let his phone go off?! And then with the sudden thunk like he'd pitched his phone against the wall--

...Shit. He'd probably just pitched his phone against the wall. "...What happened?" Tifa asked after a moment of silence, as if mourning Reno's slain dignity. The sound of the phone ringing had been muffled, barely audible; the thunk could have been explained away as her faulty water heater if Rude inquired. Her best plan of action was a Reno classic, Pretend It Didn't Happen™. Maybe if she acted nonchalant, Rude might convince himself that hearing Reno's ringtone had simply been a trick of the late hour, the absinthe, and the fact that he'd probably heard Reno's phone go off thousands of times, and had been half imagining the sound anyway.

Rude's expression was unreadable. That...had been interesting. He was sure he'd heard... His eyes scanned the room, narrowed slightly, and then he closed his PHS and slid it back into his pocket, adjusting his collar. "He didn't answer," he said smoothly. "He might be asleep already," he reasoned then, not wanting to worry Tifa unnecessarily; "he got some real stiff drugs from the med wing...they knocked him out solid earlier today. Reno's usually a really light sleeper, but we couldn't wake him for anything this afternoon."

His gaze moved back toward the kitchen, and he frowned, then dug a few coins out of his pocket, sliding them across the bar counter. "Thanks again, Tifa," he said quietly. "I'd...better go. If I can't get through to him, I'll stop by his place and make sure he's there...providing I don't find him smeared on the pavement along the way." He grinned then, just in case she hadn't learned the fine difference between his normal tone and his facetious tone just yet.

"Y-yeah," she responded, laughing a little nervously. "...He's probably okay," she added then, just in case Rude thought she was nervous for a different reason. "Listen, uh...here's my number," murmured Tifa, grabbing a pen and a cocktail napkin and scrawling out the number for her bar. "If you can't get ahold of him, call me up, okay?" She'd want a heads up if they were going to have to do damage control on this. "I'll help you find him; it'd be like, half my fault if anything happened to him." And she pressed the napkin into his hand, smiling weakly, the corners of her mouth reassuring the man that his partner was probably all right.

Tifa just hoped she was a good enough actress.

Rude stared at the napkin. Tifa Lockhart. had just given him. her phone number. Nevermind that it was the number to the main bar that was in the phonebooks anyway. Tifa Lockhart. had just given him. her phone number! What was he supposed to do now??

He stared at the napkin some more, then looked up at her, certain sweat was pouring down his face. "Ah...sure," he said blandly, and then folded the napkin three ways before sliding it very carefully into his breast pocket. "Thank you." And then he turned and walked stiff-legged toward the door.

"D--uh...don't mention it," she replied bewilderedly to his retreating back, blinking about fourteen times before walking to the front door and locking it behind him, letting out a long rattling sigh. Dear gods that had been close.

And then, in an instant, she was opening the door to the back, slipping into the darkness and easing the door shut behind her, holding her breath and hoping that maybe, somehow, it hadn't been Reno making a ruckus after all and it had just been her imagination. "...Reno?" whispered the woman, closing her eyes and wondering if Reno was even still there. He might have just panicked and bolted for home so he'd be there when Rude arrived.

There was a shuffling sound from the far corner, and Reno lifted his head from where he was crouched over the remains of his PHS, looking quite stricken, as if he'd lost a pet. "I...destroyed it," he bleated, holding up the lower half of the PHS, which was just barely held together with a single wire and perhaps a prayer, the battery precariously balanced on a small hinge. He rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "Man...chief's gonna have my ass in a sling. You know how expensive these things are? The Turk PHSs are top-of-the-line with all the trappings!" He sighed heavily. "I'm so dead."

"What about the fact that Rude was standing right there when you let your phone go off?" she demanded, throwing a hand towards the doorway in case Reno wasn't sure where Rude had been. "You can buy another phone, Reno, but--what about your partner?" It was too much to hope that Rude hadn't noticed anything; he was a smart man, and once he realized that Reno wasn't at home, he was sure to suspect. "He headed out to check on you. How are we gonna explain that?"

Reno must have had a good reason for not telling his best friend about them, and though she didn't know what it was, she figured it was something pretty hefty in order to keep Reno's mouth shut. "...We could just tell him," she mentioned anyway, just in case. "He can help cover for you and your broken phone better than I can."

He shook his head fervently. "No~ I can't...I can't just tell him," he insisted. "He would...I mean...and...how could I just...?" He shook his head again. "No, no, it--that won't do. It's not the time; I can't tell him now, I'm..." He picked up the remains of the phone and slid them gingerly into his pocket, then got to his feet and wagged a finger very seriously at Tifa. "Telling Rude is going to require a very...special sort of lead-in, and busting my phone was not it."

"I figured," she soothed him, dredging up a little smile for him. "Otherwise you'd have told him already. Roz and Elena know, right? So we need...to think of something. You need to call Rude and tell him you made it home okay, but you can't call from my phone because he now has my phone number, because I didn't think you were going to crush the life out of your phone while my back was turned." She put a hand to her face and blew out a sigh, trying to come up with something. "You can't call from your phone, obviously...if you call from somewhere else, Rude will wonder why you didn't go home, and you can't lie your way out of a paper bag--it's true," she silenced him as he scowled and opened his mouth to argue. "That's how Reeve found out, right?" challenged the woman, arching an eyebrow and smirking at him a little bit.

Maybe this was just...nature's way of forcing Reno to finally let his best friend in on the secret. Whatever Reno had for keeping it from Rude, it couldn't have been that devastating. It wasn't like Rude was going to turn on him or anything--he seemed to like her well enough; she doubted he'd disapprove.

Reno frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment, one long hand closed over his chin and the other around his elbow. He 'hmmm'd briefly, then his eyebrows lifted in an expression of epiphany. Uh oh...it was the 'mine is a brilliant idea' face. That was never good.

"Babe, lemme borrow your phone," he said, his face breaking into a grin. He shook his head quickly. "Don't question my genius, just lemme borrow your phone." He moved toward the wall and reached for the phone, nibbling on his lower lip as he lifted the receiver and propped it between his shoulder and jaw, his fingers hovering over the number pad as he tried to remember a certain phone number.

He just hoped he got an answer... He really didn't want to explain why he hadn't told Rude yet--it was such an awkward subject. But before any explanations were made, Reno needed to get a new phone number.


Andrew blindly reached for his PHS, still typing with one hand as he did so. He tapped at the keyboard a moment, squinting at the line of code on the screen and sucking on his teeth. Tugging the phone out of his messenger bag, he glanced at the display and made a face. ...The hell? He didn't recognize this number. How did someone he didn't know get his number?

Two rings. He had two left before it went to voicemail. Scrabbling a moment, Andrew yanked open a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small tangle of wires, grabbing the little adapter on one end and jamming it into a port on the side of the phone. He plugged the other end of the tangle into a port on his computer, then quickly opened a small program window. If someone had found out his phone number, he wanted to know who the hell they were.

Flipping open the phone, he paused, then said carefully, "...Andrew here."


Reno breathed a sigh of relief. "Andrew, good," he said. "I was afraid you wouldn't answer."

Andrew made a face, pulled the phone away from his ear, stared at it, then put it back. "...Senpai?" he said, befuddled. "Where are you?"

"Noplace," he replied quickly. "Turn your tracer off."

Andrew balked. "I...'m not using a tracer."

"Turn it off, Andrew."

Andrew squinted. "How do I know it's really you?" he asked sharply. "I don't recognize this number...you could be someone pretending to be Reno."

Reno sighed long-sufferingly and kneaded his forehead. "Your name is Andrew, but I nicknamed you Saint back in 1993 after you helped corrupt a bunch of files in the ShinRa database for me," he recited, as if reading a progress report. "You're twenty-seven years old and your birthday is March 31^st; you're 5'10", weigh about 175 pounds, have red hair, blue eyes, and a tattoo of a devil head on the small of your back, slightly to the left of your spine. It's me, goddammit, now turn off the fucking tracer, yo."

Andrew was silent for a moment, then reached over and unplugged the tracer cable from the computer as it honed in on a particular quadrant of Sector Four. Didn't Reno live in Sector Four? Where the hell was he calling from? Andrew supposed he must have had a good reason for not using his PHS...and for not wanting him to know where he was. Contrary to popular belief, Reno rarely did anything without a halfway decent reason. Andrew sighed. "How'd you know I was tracing you?" he asked, and Reno chuckled.

"Because I know you, Saint," he replied. "Look, I need a favor."

Andrew snorted. "Again?" he asked. "Do I have to make photos this time? ...Alex was really spooky; I don't think I wanna talk to him on the phone again."

Reno shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that," he assured him. "I need you to reroute a phone number for me."

Andrew quirked an eyebrow. "What like...right now?" he asked, and Reno nodded eagerly, adjusting his sleeves as he often did when on the phone.

"Yeah, I need you to take this number I'm calling from and route it through my home line," he explained. "I need to make a call, but I can't have this number show up on the display. Think you can do that for me, Saint?"

Andrew barked a laugh. "Piece'a cake," he said. "But you'll owe me another."

Reno shrugged. "Looks like you're just banking favors, yo," he said.

Andrew snorted. "All right; it'll only take a minute," he said. "Hang up with me, wait five minutes or so, and then make your call. Should have no issues. Just one call?"

"Just one call," Reno replied, and Andrew clicked his tongue.

"One of these days you're gonna have to tell me what sneaky shenanigans you're always up to, Reno," he said.

Reno laughed. "Maybe someday, kid," he teased. "Thanks for your help!"

"No worries," Andrew replied, and flipped his phone shut. Then he frowned at the little GPS window in the bottom left corner of his computer screen. ...Sector Four. Reno obviously wasn't at home, or else he wouldn't have needed him to route the call through his home number. Where in Sector Four was he...and why was he trying to make it seem like he was at home?

He tapped out a few keystrokes in a separate program, inputting the number Reno had called from and overriding the identifier to show his home phone number the next time an outgoing call was made from that line. It was really convenient that ShinRa owned...everything. Manipulating the system was a snap when you had full control over it all in the first place.

Completing the override, Andrew closed the program and went back to recoding the application he'd been toying with before. ...He just hoped Reno knew what he was doing.


Tifa listened to Reno's side of the conversation somewhat anxiously, chewing on her lower lip and wondering if Reno's protégé had actually pulled the tracker, or if he'd figured out where Reno was calling from. That'd be hard to explain, why he was calling Rude from a bar but needed it to show his home phone number.

Because she didn't doubt that if Andrew did some digging, he'd find out who it was Reno needed to call. This was going to break open soon; she could feel it. And though she trusted Reno and his Turks by proxy...the fact that Reno was so dead-set on keeping their secret worried her. It was like he knew they wouldn't take it well, wanted to hide it...

"You know," she chuckled, "rarely would I call anything you do genius, but if this works out then...it was a pretty brilliant idea, rerouting the number like that." Even if it did add another chink to their armor.

"Well of course it was," he replied with an indignant frown. "Andrew's my protégé for a reason, yanno? He can do all that cool stuff that makes me look smart for thinking of it." He nodded decisively, then checked his watch, deciding that five minutes probably hadn't gone by yet. He hoped Rude didn't walk too fast to get to his apartment; if he got found out, he was boned.

He sighed, rubbing his nose absently. "As for...why I haven't told Rude yet," he said then, figuring now was as good a time to explain as any, seeing as how that had been a perfect opportunity to let Rude in the loop and he had opted not to, "ah...well it's kinda complicated." He cleared his throat, leaning against the wall. "Well, I told you and Princess Spaz-attack that story about how Rude dated a girl who was a spy from AVALANCHE that one time, yah?" Tifa nodded, and Reno looked uncomfortable. "Well, that wasn't...entirely it," he said, and the shook his head. "I mean, that did happen, but that actually has...very little to do with why I haven't told Rude anything about us."

He glanced at his watch again--hadn't it been five minutes yet? Maybe if he called Rude, Tifa would forget she had asked this very awkward question.

Unlikely, though. Tifa wouldn't forget; she didn't forget anything. Except that turn of phrase about wax. She'd forgotten to ask him about that for over a month now.

"He...would worry, wouldn't he?" she deduced softly, interpreting Reno's discomfort as simple aversion to the concept of lying to his friend, even if it was for a good cause. "Because of what happened to him--he'd worry, for you, is that it? He doesn't know me well enough to know I wouldn't...turn out like she did, like Chelsea, right?"

Grinning a bit, Tifa postulated, "Then I guess it's a good thing you brought him over tonight, you know? Once I win him over, there really shouldn't be a problem, don't you think?"

Reno froze. Oh gods. To lie, or not to lie? Or rather...to agree with her incorrect assumption, or to set the record straight? Reno knew he couldn't lie worth crap, but this was a simple yes or no answer; surely he could pull that off, right? It was easier, in the long run, to just let her assume that Rude wouldn't trust her not to break his heart than to try and explain that Rude's own heart had rather belonged to Tifa from afar for...years.

He swallowed hard. "Y...yes," he stammered, and then nodded eagerly. "Right. He doesn't really ah...know you too well just yet so..." To effectively complete the lie, Reno should have continued with, 'so of course once he knows you better, we can tell him everything', but he didn't say that...because once Rude knew her better, it would only make it harder to tell Rude the truth.

Dammit.

He checked his watch again.


About two blocks from Reno's apartment, Rude paused, frowning a bit as his phone went off. Transferring the cocktail napkin with Tifa's phone number to his other hand (he had been holding it, not wanting it to get mussed in his pocket), he dug out his PHS and checked the face, lifting an eyebrow in measured surprise.

Reno, the screen merrily displayed, along with a little icon of a house to indicate it was his home phone number. That was odd. Reno never used his home phone.

Unless he really had been in the back of the bar, smashing his PHS to oblivion. Rude had thought he'd heard Reno's phone go off... What was going on?

Flipping the phone open, he brought it to his ear, considering. Perhaps Reno had dropped his phone on the way home and it'd been run over as he'd called the redhead, or maybe after he'd gotten home Reno had stepped on it in a scramble to pick it up, or shorted it out by trying to answer the phone in the shower. In any case, he seemed to know Rude had called, and was calling him back from his house line.

By all logic, Reno's PHS was dead or worse at this point. Though Reno rarely followed conventional logic.

Rude picked up his pace, walking a bit more quickly towards Reno's apartment building. Just in case he had shorted out his phone in the shower and needed medical attention. Over a decade with his partner had taught him to prepare for the worst.


As Rude answered the call (well, 'answered' wasn't quite the right word for it, since the big man had said nothing at all) Reno flashed Tifa a thumbs-up. All according to plan.

"Rude~" the redhead chirped cheerfully. "Hey buddy, sorry I missed your call before; I was in the shower. Is everything all right?"


"...You tell me," responded Rude after a moment's hesitation--Reno was hiding something. He had no reason to sound so cheerful; he'd been hit by a car, denied alcohol all night, spurned by his best friend and made to walk home all alone in the dark while terribly injured. Reno should have, by all rights, been whining and complaining about 'first you want me to leave all alone, and now you call me up like nothing happened?' but...he wasn't.

Something was seriously fishy about all this. Besides, Reno had taken a shower immediately after getting all doctored up after his car wreck earlier that day. And while Reno was by no means unhygienic, taking two showers within twelve hours of each other was pushing it. "You got home okay?"

A smile crept into Reno's voice. "Mm? Oh, sure I'm home, it ain't like I could shower elsewhere, yah?" he chuckled.

Closing in on the last block, Rude lifted his eyes to the apartment complex, scanning windows and pinpointing Reno's. It was dark, but Reno frequently left the lights off, so that fact alone wasn't very telling. "What happened to your phone?"

"It's charging," he replied. "I think the ah...impact mighta screwed something up, yo. It just doesn't wanna hold a charge anymore; it was almost dead by the time I got here. I'll prolly have to petition Tseng to get me a new one."

...Well it wasn't a total lie. It was most assuredly an impact that had destroyed his phone...though the destruction had little to do with the battery no longer holding a charge. In fact the battery was about the only thing left intact.

Rude nodded slightly, though Reno couldn't see, and paused about half a block from the building, looking up at Reno's dark window with a frown on his face. "I tried to call you; guess it died as it was ringing." Well, that explained that.

"Yeah, probably," Reno replied, lowering his eyes in something like discomfort.

"Talk to Tseng in the morning," instructed his partner. "You need a reliable phone." After a slight lull that indicated Rude was changing the subject, he declared, "...She gave me her phone number."


He was about to agree that he would petition the boss for a new phone when Rude saw fit to remind him that Tifa had given him her phone number, and Reno bristled involuntarily. "She--ah..." He cleared his throat. "Oh did she now?" he asked, his voice a bit strained. Stop being retarded, yo, he scolded himself. She only gave him her number for security reasons. Rude's your best friend--there's no need for jealousy here. But Reno had always been something of a jealous, competitive person, even when Rude was involved. They'd actually had a huge fight once when ShinRa Tower's computer systems had been hacked a few years ago. Bored with busywork and his pride stung for not being trusted with more important duties, he'd snapped at his partner for being so complacent. It had turned quite bitter for a moment, and when the enemy had appeared Reno had seen it as an opportunity to take out his frustration, and bet Rude he could take out more of the enemy robots than he could.

Reno had nearly died for his pride that day, racing against time to avoid being crushed to death in an elevator shaft. It was the last time he let his pride come between himself and his partner. He didn't want to be faced with something like that again...but Reno knew well enough that if Rude was given the opportunity he would definitely come on to Tifa, and despite knowing Rude wouldn't dream of hitting on his girl...Rude didn't know Tifa was Reno's girl. And Reno couldn't bring himself to tell him he'd stolen the girl of his dreams right out from under his nose.

...Well it wasn't like he'd done it on purpose.

He cleared his throat again, fidgeting with the lapel of his jacket.

"G...good for you, buddy," was all he could find it in himself to say.


Grunting softly, Rude leaned against the wall of the building just before Reno's, folding his free arm into the crook of his elbow bent to hold the phone to his ear. "Don't sound so happy for me," he chided. "You know she'll turn me down." He didn't mean for it to sound as accusatory as it had, but it was true--Rude was...infamously inept at women. He could barely even talk to Rosalind, and she'd been with the team longest after them. Though he didn't really talk much anyway... Still, the three girls he felt entirely at ease with were Tegwin, who had been so young when they'd first met that she hadn't really registered in the 'girl' category, Cyr, and Val. Even Elena, who was very clearly taken, albeit in secret, made him slightly edgy.

Reno's voice caught in his throat. ...Yeah. He did know. But it wasn't for the reasons Rude was thinking. He shook his head quickly. "Don't...don't be so hard on yourself, aibou," he chided, his brow furrowed as he briefly glanced at Tifa, then looked away again. "Yanno, maybe...maybe if you just had a little more confidence around girls things would go differently, yo." He laughed nervously. "Me, I'm all poise when it comes to the ladies--that's why they like me so much."

Maybe. Or maybe it had more to do with his red hair and significant paycheck.

"So...ah...you should just be yourself more often," he suggested, wagging a finger in the air even though Rude couldn't see. "I bet you'd have better luck, yo."

A noncommittal grunt later, and Rude changed the subject once more. "Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?" Reno knew better than most people just how painful cold bruises were. It was one thing to go around with a fresh injury that hadn't had the chance to stiffen up yet, but another thing entirely to walk half an hour to work with a swollen hip that was black and blue.

Reno shook his head. "Nah," he replied; "it's all good, yo." He stretched one arm over his head, flexing as if Rude could see just how fiddle-fit he truly was, despite having been hit by a car. "It'll take more than a little traffic accident to bring me down, yo."

"All right. And don't forget your phone tomorrow, to trade in." He flipped his phone shut and tucked it back into his jacket pocket, straightening off the wall and looking back up at Reno's dark window one last time, before turning and heading back in the other direction.


Reno hung up the phone and sagged against the wall, suddenly extremely tired. Lying was hard, yo! Especially lying to Rude! Something told Reno his partner hadn't bought an inch of it...but he'd figure something out. Probably. Maybe.

With a sigh, Reno lifted one hand to the crown of his head and slid down the wall, sinking into a crouch that made his hips ache, but he somehow felt he deserved it. Chuckling weakly, he lifted guilty eyes to Tifa. "Man, I'm so gonna burn for all this subterfuge, yo," he lamented, shaking his head.



"No you're not," she refuted, crouching down beside him. "Bring him along more often; once he gets to know me then we can break the news, okay? I...haven't told Cloud yet, if it helps. So if we burn, we burn together--hey, c'mon," urged Tifa, reaching out and pushing gentle fingers through his hair, taking care not to be too rough with him, since he'd been hit by a car and all. "Lemme walk you home."

He looked about to squawk indignantly about how he'd gone through all this trouble and how dare she just send him packing like that, and so she raised an eyebrow at him, looking like she'd expected him to know better. "Reno, I wouldn't even serve you booze; you really thought you'd be getting any tonight?" She broke into a smile. "Though, of course, I know you know that and you just snuck back in because you just wanted to talk, right? Or cuddle all night?"

Reno folded his arms over his chest and pouted, grumbling indecipherably. He hadn't really had any of that in mind when he'd snuck back in the back door, actually; mostly he'd just wanted to see what Rude had up his sleeve. ...And there was always the draw of hearing what people said about you when they knew you couldn't hear them.

He sighed then and moved to rise, grimacing faintly. Oh man...he was gonna be in a world of hurt tomorrow. He wondered if he still had those giant horsepill painkillers he'd been given a while back when he'd torn up his shoulder...? "All right," he said, "I...guess I should get going after all. I don't think Rude would go so far as to break and enter, but I probably should get home." He chuckled, giving her a feigned look of indignation. "And since I’m apparently not getting any tonight, I might as well just get out of your hair."

Rising to her feet as well, Tifa reached out and snagged his hand with a few fingers. "But you're not even in my hair yet," she argued with a little smile, inclining her head towards the door to the bar. "Besides, now that I think about it, if Rude went looking for you, the last thing you want is to be walking around outside twenty minutes from where you should be, right?" She led him out of the back room by the hand and walked him about halfway to the front door, where she stopped, facing him and gently--very gently--trailing her fingers across his jaw toward his temple. "Stay? You shouldn't be out walking anyhow. Let me take care of you."

He frowned at her, not sure what he was supposed to say to this. He wasn't used to being taken care of, after all--for that matter, despite his deplorable injury track record, it was rare for him to actually be in a position to need taking care of. His general absurdity and somewhat childish nature notwithstanding, he'd always been a pretty self-sufficient kinda guy, even if he couldn't iron his clothes worth a damn and was alarmed by all the attachments on the vacuum and often wore mismatched socks. He smiled helplessly and caught her hand at the side of his face, bringing it to his lips and nibbling playfully on her fingertips.

"I guess if you really wanna play doctor, who am I to complain, yah?"

She laughed softly and caught his chin with two fingertips, planting a gentle, tender kiss on his lips. "C'mon then," murmured the woman with a light smile on her face as she walked him toward the stairs. "Let's see just how bad you're banged up under all those clothes... If you're not bruised too bad, maybe I can work on your back again; it's been a while. And I imagine getting hit by a car made you a little tense."

It was something of a tradition, attacking the knots that plagued Reno's shoulders--she used to do it most nights he slept over, but...with recent events, she'd kind of fallen out of the habit. It was sort of endearing, the way he'd just lie there faceplanted into the mattress, groaning creakily as she worked on his back; usually he'd fall asleep and she wouldn't even notice until half an hour had gone by. That was actually how he'd managed to sleep over for the first time, back when their self-imposed rule was for him to leave by four in the morning every night. She'd worked on him for over an hour that night--he'd hurt his shoulder, so badly he'd gotten a few days of enforced leave to give the swelling time to go down--and they'd both fallen asleep, and she hadn't even realized they'd broken their own rule until she woke up the next morning...

7th Heaven, Edge; 07:36
Saturday, August 22^nd 1998

She was floating, happy, warm, and safe, Reno's scent filling her lungs, his strong arms around her body as she slept--

Her eyes snapped open, her body tensing as a cold sensation washed over her, the light of morning filtering in through the window. "...Shit." She'd fallen asleep. They'd fallen asleep. And he'd never gone home.

Her face was in his chest, warm breath tickling the crook of his neck, his nose and lips against her hair. Fuck. Not that she minded him being there--part of her was secretly delighted--but he'd never gone home. How was he supposed to get to work in the morning if he never even went home?

"Reno," she breathed, lifting a hand and shaking his shoulder gently, unable to really disentangle herself from him. "Reno, I fell asleep. Reno, wake up; I'm so sorry--" A warm chuckle vibrated in his throat and she sighed. "I lay down after you fell asleep and I drifted off; I'm sorry." She wanted him to know she hadn't planned this, especially because last night she'd murmured to him, I wish you could stay.

"Good morning to you, too," he chuckled, still holding her. He'd woken up about twenty minutes ago, and had been briefly alarmed by the realization of what had happened. He really hadn't meant to spend the night; oh, sure, he'd wanted to--he'd wanted to for a long time...but he hadn't been about to just invite himself to an impromptu slumber party, as it were. Their relationship had been difficult enough on Tifa, what with hiding everything not only from Cloud and Barret, but from Marlene too. Kids were a lot more perceptive and observant than grownups gave them credit for, the redhead had found, and the fact that she'd managed to keep him a secret from everyone thus far was pretty impressive. He hadn't dared to suggest staying the entire night for fear of blowing their cover. But he'd been awake for a while now, content to just lie there and hold her as she slept, listening to that peaceful breathing and feeling the way her body curved into his like they were made for each other, and he was suddenly very very sorry he'd never suggested such a thing before. Shifting to press her onto her back, he leaned over her and planted a solid kiss on her lips, preemptively silencing another eruption of apology.

Tifa stiffened a little, suddenly very intensely aware that she'd just woken up, hadn't brushed her teeth, and probably had breath that was entirely less than pleasant. It took her a moment to realize Reno hadn't really been popping breath mints either, and she found that his kiss wasn't objectionable to her, and reasoned that maybe he didn't really have a problem with her breath either. After all...nobody broke up over halitosis...did they?

"How'd you sleep?" he inquired cheerfully, his voice soft and secretive but definitely not upset in the slightest. Before she had a chance to answer, he reached down and casually slipped two fingers inside her, grinning as she gasped softly, looking up at him in pleasantly surprised confusion. She didn't answer right away, closing her eyes and biting her lip for a moment, slowly inhaling as her body shivered. "I asked you a question," he reminded her after a few seconds, flickering his fingers insistently and keeping her just shy of entirely coherent, which he found incredibly endearing. "How'd you sleep?"

"...Good," she answered, her hand on his shoulder though she didn't really recall putting it there, trying to simultaneously shake the haze of sleepiness while fighting off the encroaching haze of his fingers.

He laughed, a low good-natured rumble as he looked down at her face. "Well that's good. I know I slept wonderfully; you really did a wonder on my back. It hasn't felt this good in a million years, and that's a very long time." He grinned at her as she opened her eyes to blink at him. "How long were you going at it?"

"I, uh...like an hour?" ventured Tifa blearily, finding it very hard to concentrate at the moment.

"An hour," he echoed, lifting his free shoulder in half a shrug and smiling broadly. "No wonder..."

It took her a little longer than it should have to inquire, "No wonder...what?"

"No wonder I feel so good, yo." He kissed her again. "... I don't think I've had those knots looked at for years. I really owe you one." His smile was feral and mischievous. "Now, I'm not too good at back massages," he confessed, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment, "but I owe you an hour of massage at the very least." And he waggled his fingers practicedly inside her, listening to her voiceless groan with a rather sinister and manic grin on his face.

"Don't you...have work?" she panted, her back arching a little as that familiar pleasant ache started to grow inside her.

"Not for a while. It's only like...seven thirty." He cackled slightly and she opened her eyes again, looking up at him and squirming a little. "Besides, it'd serve Tseng right if I showed up late; really, calling me back in when I'm on enforced leave. He's bad at this." After making a face, he announced, "So that in mind, I've got an hour and then some." And he planned to make good use of it.

After all...a Turk always repaid his debts.

Unfortunately, they didn't last an hour. At around the twenty-minute mark, there came a knock at the door.

"...Tifa? Are you there?" Ah...speaking of keeping secrets from Marlene; there was the little one now. And she sounded rather scared.

"Mm?" Tifa responded, sounding sleepy, though she wasn't. "What is it?"

"I woke up and you were gone! I was scared... Why are you in there? The door's locked."

Reno found himself grinning. Clever clever girl indeed, his Tifa. She always thought of everything.

"Nn? Oh...I'm sleeping," she called back, bapping Reno gently as he nibbled on her neck and ran his hands over her.

"How come you're in there?" came the inevitable question, and Tifa blinked.

"Uh... It was really late by the time I finished up. There was a big spill last night and yeah... I didn't want to sneak in and wake you up; Munchkin, I'm really tired," she whined pathetically. "I just got to bed about an hour ago; lemme sleep, okay?"

"But Tifa...I have to go to school!"

Tifa laughed. "It's Saturday, kiddo. No school today. You can head downstairs and sweep up if you want; you're a big girl and can do it all by yourself, right?"

Marlene's excited gasp made Tifa chuckle. "Yeah! I can!"

"Great," she murmured. "You can sweep up all by yourself and then why don't you color for a while? Gimmie a few more hours, okay? Wake me up at ten and then you can show me what a good job you did."

"'Kay!" As Tifa listened to the pattering footsteps darting down the hall and downstairs, she grinned.

"Nice save," Reno muttered into her neck, wiggling his fingers inside her again as he indicted, "you liar."

"Oh shut up," she whispered, swallowing hard as he picked up where he'd left off, and he chuckled again, kissing her soundly and then biting back a startled squawk as she suddenly shoved him by the shoulders over onto his back, kissing him hard and letting a hand trail down his bare chest. "You know, it's not really fair to just lavish all this attention on me," she mused huskily as she slipped a hand beneath his boxers.

Reno was not about to stop her. He inhaled sharply, his manic grin still quite present, and the only thing he offered in the way of obligatory objection was, "But I owe you." Certainly he believed in returning favors...but he wasn't stupid enough to insist when she apparently preferred paying things forward.

Leaning forward as she grasped him, she planted a quick kiss on his lips and breathed, "Raincheck."


Only Reno could manage to look sullen in a situation like that. "Fine," he pouted. "But I'm paying you back with interest." He actually rather appreciated that she enjoyed his efforts at foreplay--it was a lot more interesting for the both of them that way. He remembered how startled she'd been when he'd first demonstrated how...er...dexterous his fingers were. Was it strange for a guy to actually take pleasure in...pleasuring his woman?

Around quarter to nine they took a quick nap (hey, fooling around without being vocal about it was hard work, after all), setting the alarm on his PHS to wake them at nine fifteen so he'd have time to get at least partially presentable before heading off to work. Duty called, after all.

He ran his fingers through his hair and re-tied it, pulled his shirt on, though he didn't button it, and with an overly dramatic regretful sigh, fastened his pants again. He considered just not going to work today, absently wondering how many times he could get away with calling in sick before it started to look bad; his job really was about the only thing he actually took seriously. He supposed that would only make it more suspicious if he were to suddenly start coming down with something once every other week.

Tifa rose to get dressed too, but he grabbed her and pinned her against the wall with a dashing grin. "It's such a shame to cover yourself up again," he mused, running his hands over the perfect bell of her hips, that inescapable grin lighting up his face. "It's like wrapping art in a sheet and stuffing it away in a closet somewhere." She laughed at that and just shook her head. "I mean it! I like you like this; you should dress this way more often. It's so convenient," he added, slipping a hand between her thighs and running a finger devilishly from back to front, grinning at her gasp.

"I'd get stared at," she countered after he'd moved his hand to the small of her back and finished kissing her deeply.

He frowned severely then, looking altogether serious. "Then I will punch anyone who stares in the face."

She laughed again. "What about when you're not here?"

"Keep a tally," he decided with a very decisive nod. "And I will punch them all in the face in the soonest possible moment."

Muffling a snicker, she pressed her face into his shoulder. "That still doesn't help them staring when you're not around, though."

"No no, see, it will. Word will get around that if you stare, you get punched in the face! And this will strike fear into the hearts of men, and they will not stare for fear of the retributive punch in the face."

Tifa was just shaking her head, lost in helpless laughter. "...L-let me get dressed," she ordered when she could breathe again, and he swept her up into a tight embrace and a deep kiss to go with it before turning her loose.

"Fine, fine, destroy all my dreams. I guess I'll just have to find a different reason to punch all of humanity in the face," he moped as she pulled some pants on.

Tifa finally got dressed, though it was hard; Reno couldn't keep his hands off her. He was all smiles and soft laughter--his back really did feel amazing, and it was just one of the things putting him in a positively exuberant mood.

Grabbing Tifa suddenly, he pinned her against the wall again, his hands both underneath her (spectacular) rear as he pressed his chest against hers, kissing her breath away. "Wanna play some more?" he inquired huskily, squeezing with both his hands and grinning, though he was altogether serious.

"Reno, you have work--" she began, but he cut her off.

"I have time."

She looked dubious. "You have to leave at quarter 'til--"

"I said," he interrupted again, mumbling roughly into her neck before biting it, "I have time, yo."

Some things were more important than looking entirely presentable, after all.

When it got to be time for him to leave, he simply wiped off his hands and buttoned up his shirt, tugging on his jacket and snagging Tifa around the waist as he made his way to the window. He had to sneak out because of Marlene, but a second-story window was hardly a concern. "Don't you want to wash up first?" Tifa inquired, looking rather baffled. Reno looked like he'd just barely escaped an orgy with his innocence intact, and he was planning on just strolling to work?

"Ah~ see, that's part of the plan," he announced with a quick kiss. "There's no way I can stop grinning, Babe. I haven't felt this good in a long time,"--he winked fiendishly at her--"and it's not just my back, yanno." She still looked confused, so he continued. "So of course they're going to ask, yah? And then I'd have to make up some story and it'd be awkward and I'd have to keep all my lies straight and I'm a horrible liar and I'm in such a great mood I'd probably forget to lie anyway." Pinning her to the wall next to the window, he kissed her and grinned in what he felt as an entirely debonair manner. "But if I stroll in like this," he explained, making a grand gesture to indicate his present state, "then not only will they not ask because they think they know, but I can act like a giddy moron all day and no one will suspect a thing, yo." It was a stroke of sheer genius, he had to say.

Tifa just smoothed his hair a little and smiled. "You act like a giddy moron anyway," she mused fondly, and he looked confident.

"Exactly." It was quite an excellent plan with which to launch quite an excellent day. After kissing her once more, he opened up the window, hopping out and hanging from the window sill for a moment. "I'll be back tonight. Unless the chief schedules some mission tonight, which is really unlikely...I'll come make good on that raincheck."

She kissed him and ruffled his hair, and then he dropped from the window and was gone.

02:53

A little tense. Right. Reno hadn't even realized how uptight he was until Tifa's capable fingers were already halfway to undoing it. He supposed it was understandable; he'd seized up his entire body to try and bear the brunt of the impact himself. Denzel would probably have been killed if he hadn't, and he wasn't an ounce regretful that he'd done what he'd done, even if Tifa would never know. It was his own damn fault they'd been put in that situation anyway...maybe he was going to have to start refusing the kid's lunch date requests. If it was going to end with car accidents on a regular basis, Reno wasn't certain how many dates he could withstand.

"Hm?" he inquired suddenly, Tifa's soft voice registering to his sleepy brain but the words themselves escaping him, like gentle breath flickering across his skin, there but gone too soon to hold clearly in memory.

"When do you want to get up tomorrow?" repeated Tifa, rolling her own shoulders and shifting where she sat on the bed beside him--she usually sat on his butt to work on his back, but that was a bad idea now, and so she'd been leaning somewhat awkwardly over him; she didn't really mind, though her own shoulders were burning by the end of it.

"I don't," he admitted sullenly, "but I've gotta report in. I need to get a new phone, if nothing else."

He shifted, wrapping long arms around her middle to pull her horizontal alongside him. A busted pelvis was certainly a very different sensation from a torn shoulder, but in the end it really did seem like no matter what the problem was, Tifa was the solution. She made everything easier to handle, no matter how harsh or painful or impossible it might have seemed, and Reno was pretty sure that no matter what life threw at him anymore, he'd be able to take it so long as Tifa was there to help.

Bowing his head against the curve of her neck, he inhaled slowly through his nose as the heaviness of sleep tugged at the edges of his brain. He'd tell Rude one day...about how it had all been an accident to begin with and he never meant to hurt him and it wasn't like he'd stolen Tifa away maliciously and he was very very sorry he was such a bad friend...but not today. Not now. If he put it off, maybe he'd come up with some ingenious idea that would spare Rude's feelings. The longer he could delay his partner's disappointment, the better, and in the meantime, maybe dreaming with Tifa beside him would assuage the worry...at least until morning.

seven in the morning
in the middle of dreamin' of you
(get up, get up,
a new day is calling me.)

seven thirty-five,
and your body is still next to mine.
(don’t stop, don’t stop,
i don’t want to wake up.)

dreamin' of you.

---

hey kids. sorry again for my abysmal sense of schedule. been really busy this month, but it's all worth it, 'cuz we're gonna be in Japan for New Years! \o/ as always, thanks for reading, and your comments are much loved~