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Final Fantasy 7. Tifa Lockhart: Journey to Midgar.	By : Nickamano Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 7306 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is created and owned by Squaresoft, now Square-Enix. Nothing here is owned by me. It was created for entertainment purposes, and I am not profiting financially from the creation and online presentation of this story.

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17. The Captain’s table.
Tifa was acutely embarrassed and yet, at the same time rather proud of herself as she made her way across the restaurant. She was heading toward the private room opposite the Blenheim tearoom that housed the Captain’s table.

It was only used for special occasions, Tifa had been told. Mostly, the Captain ate her meals in her cabin or on the bridge if she was on duty. Occasionally she would visit the restaurant. However, the final meal of a voyage was always taken at the Captain’s table as a tradition. Though unlike tradition, the Captain no longer had the right to select her dinner guests, the seats were bought and paid for by the richest and/or most politically powerful passengers. However, this trip either they weren’t fully booked or the Captain had specially found a way to squeeze the Forts’ and Tifa onto the guest list. Tifa wondered for a moment if the reason was gratitude and an apology, or some kind of publicity stunt or damage-limitation exercise for the ocean ferry owner’s boardroom or whoever.

The dress was about as overtly sexual an item as Tifa had ever owned or worn. However, due to the combination of her extreme bust measurement and the slender shape of the remainder of her figure, it had literally been the only item that fit her properly. The others had been too tight across the bust, or had been far too big overall and made her look like she was wearing a tent.

She didn’t like the shimmering purple number, really. It just wasn’t her. It was too short, too tight and too revealing. Too overt. She was a more demure, sensitive type and not in the least bit openly sexual. Sure, day-to-day, she showed off plenty of flesh with her cropped vest-tops and miniskirts but that was all for comfort, ease of movement and body heat control, it wasn’t intended to display any overt self-sexualisation. The same could not be said about this purple minidress she was wearing. No matter how good she had to admit she looked in it.

Tina didn’t let Tifa near the full-length mirror in her cabin until all her hair and make-up efforts were complete and the dress was straightened, the creases drawn out of it. Then Tina stood back with her hands on the free-standing wheeled fame of the dress mirror and just stared at her, tears actually forming in her eyes.

“You’re so damned beautiful girl. You don’t know how jealous I am.” The waitress gushed.
“You’re making me blush, Tina!”
“I know! Why’d I put all that blusher on your cheeks? It’s not like you need it, girl!”

They giggled away.

“I can see myself blushing all night in this!” Tifa huffed. “C’mon then, let’s get this over with.”

She nodded her head at the mirror. Tina grinned and took a breath, gripping its tubular chromium frame.

“Prepare yourself girl…” She said, and then slowly turned the mirror around.

Tifa stared at her reflection. She had to fight not to burst into tears. She hardly recognised the remarkably stunning young woman, grown-up adult woman, looking back at her.

Her lush gleaming brown hair was essentially the same though it hung free and the length was worked into loose waves that started at her shoulders. The make-up was subtle, exemplifying the size and colour of her eyes and filling her lips in a touch more, the dark pink lipstick making them glisten as though wet. She had a pair of gold crescent-moon earrings. They were cheap costume and weighed practically nothing but they still caught the light well, glinting like gold. The purple high-heeled court shoes had come with the dress, the heels much higher than she was used to but her training gave her supreme balance so she didn’t struggle to walk in them.

Then there was the dress itself. It was a sleeveless halter top, fastening around the back of her neck. The back scooped low in a long oval of nothingness that revealed the whole of her back, all those tight intricate little muscles flexing beneath her blemish-less porcelain skin. Of course, the length of her cascading tresses hid most of that detail. The length ended at the tops of her thighs, barely covering her ass, though there was something done to the hem so that it slid inward, following the undercurve of her buttocks and covering them completely. The dress also did an amazing something to her bosom. There was supporting apparatus sewn into the fabric and yet completely invisible so her breasts were lifted, held and pushed together. It created a dual visual impact, firstly an impressive décolletage that was like a cliff face. While secondly, there was a round-edged inverted triangle of cleavage window cut into the garment’s chest that showcased her breasts impressively, revealing an immense deep, thrilling cleavage that any observer could effectively lose themselves in.

She finished the ensemble with a loose belt that snagged at the taut curve of her hips. It was a belt of old pre-Shin-Ra’s decimalised currency, gold farthing coins, each of them a quarter of a doubloon. Though now worthless. They had been collected and welded together into a belt with short chain-links connecting each old coin and then re-polished and plated until they glimmered golden.

Tifa was so taken aback by her appearance that she had to fight to keep herself from shedding tears. Tina voiced exactly what she was thinking.

“If only this Zangan feller could see you now. He’d cross continents to get back to you girl. No mistake.”

Tifa swung open the restaurant door with a brand-new confident swagger, knowing how good she looked and she had to rein in her hip-sway. It wasn’t her. She was quieter than this, more self-effacing. And yet she couldn’t help but feel confident and proud of her appearance. Plus, it was justified as the whole room essentially fell silent at her entrance, she allowed her eyes to slide around the room without catching anyone’s gaze, recognising the effect she was having, the way she had grabbed everyone’s attention. She knew how good she looked and everyone else was reinforcing it.

The head waiter came over with a broad smile and a little flush to his own cheeks, desperately trying to keep his eyes on hers, even though Tifa knew her on-display cleavage must be as enticing as it was hypnotic. She was quietly proud of his professionalism.

“A table for the young lady?” He enquired.
“I have an invitation to the Captain’s Table. Tifa Lockhart.”
“Ah, yes, Miss Lockhart. You are indeed on the list. This way please.”

He turned gracefully on his heel and led her across the floor of the restaurant to the closed double doors leading to a smaller room that contained the Captain’s Table.

Tifa could feel the gentle shudder of her breasts to the off-beat of her smooth balanced stride. And she felt tall, the four-inch heels stretching her up closer to six feet. There was some sense of power that enveloped her with the added height along with the sense of commanding sexuality that the outfit, hair and make-up welled up within her. Of course, it wasn’t the dress, hair and make-up themselves, it was how they were making her feel inside but the effect was rousing, bolstering her inner self, her confidence.

The head waiter put his hands to the polished chromium of the double doors and then swung them inwards before stepping to one side.

Again, all eyes honed in on her like guided missiles, and three quarters of them popped out. Tifa smiled demurely but inside she was swelling. A hot flush swept through her and she even acknowledged the distinctive and pleasant little tingle that darted through her loins and up into her uplifted breasts.

“Captain, may I present Miss Tifa Lockhart.” The head waiter said.

Tifa stepped forward as the Captain came through a few other guests to greet and welcome the teenager. She felt the presence of the head waiter recede and there was the soft purr of the doors drawn closed across the thick carpet. A little click of the handle clicking back into position.

“Young lady, you look stunning.” The Captain said, taking Tifa’s powerful hands in her own. “And you’re right on time.”

Then the Captain’s grey-green eyes sparkled as she lowered her voice so that only Tifa could hear her.

“Though you should have waited another ten minutes, a beautiful young woman such as yourself should be fashionably late. Makes a better entrance, if that’s even possible.”

Tifa grinned at her and gave a little shrug.

“I’ve taken the liberty of seating the woman of the hour to my left.” The Captain said, walking Tifa to her seat.

There were four other guests besides the Captain and Tifa, the Forts of course, were opposite her, and the other two guests were rich dignitary types. The first was Ms Amano, a representative from the Wutai continent who was apparently travelling to Midgar for some kind of reparation conference following the Wutai war, as was stated with the introductions during seating. She was a very beautiful young woman barely older than Tifa, though she had a degree of calm maturity, an almost worldliness that belied her obvious youth. She was wearing a black woollen vest-top under a short red and loosely knotted kimono-style jacket. The woollen under-top, patterned with knitted bands and creeping vines, jutted alluringly, though not as prominently as Tifa’s own décolletage. Her pageboy-cut, sky-blue hair was adorned with two long golden hair-pins slid into the back.

The other guest was apparently named Teilor, a slender built Eastern gentleman wearing a grey and tan business suit, over a white shirt. He even wore a matching waistcoat with a pocket watch. Its heavy, golden watch-chain almost resembled military dress decoration. His angular face was heavily lined, informing of a wealth of life experience. And a scatty combination of frown lines and smile lines gave him a slightly confusing, nondescript look that seemed to be equal parts happy and annoyed. He wore silver wire-rimmed spectacles and stank of opulence, money and entitlement.

The meal went down surprisingly smoothly and Tifa enjoyed herself. The Wutai woman was not particularly conversational and often spoke her native language or a broken combination of the Western and Eastern languages, so most of the attempts to engage her in conversation fell rather flat.

The Captain was gracious, amusing and intelligent, though she seemed to have a standard method of regaling her guests with tales of sea monsters and maelstroms, rather than actually creating conversation or asking her guests much about themselves. It might well be a form of professional diplomacy, Tifa thought, to have a go-to reserve of stories to toss out and to keep away from religion and politics.

The pencil thin Mister Teilor first attempted to speak mostly to the Wutai woman, and by speak he was really trying to flirt and probably seduce. Tifa, listening in, did learn a little about his business dealings which he obviously enjoyed discussing at length. He apparently had a partial stake in an area of Midgar’s Sector 5 and also a third ownership in the so-called famous ‘Honey Bee Inn’, about which he added in a subdued tone that either Ms. Amano or Tifa could easily find employment inside, if either of the young women found themselves in financial hardship. In response, Tifa offered a friendly smile and nod of the head but didn’t pay much attention, while the Wutai representative looked downright infuriated by the comment.

Tifa wondered why for a second but with the young beauty’s reaction and her overall disinterest, it was hardly a surprise that Mister Teilor didn’t appear to have much luck in impressing or seducing Ms. Amano at all.

After the first forty minutes of trying, Mister Teilor had turned to Tifa and tried to entice her in the same way. Which soon enough led to Tifa having to give her account of why she had been invited to the Captain’s table in the first place. It was a difficult conversation to have because of the pain and embarrassment that could have easily been taken across the table, as it was the Forts’ own daughter who was the main victim of the story, so Tifa skirted the details as well as downplaying her own actions as much as she could.

Even so, she did seem to perk Ms. Amano’s interest, as Tifa attempted to describe the events, and even brought out a small smile, first in the young woman’s lovely iridescent blue eyes before it spread to touch her full ruby lips.

“Captain. How are the two boys, I do feel like I lost my temper… Even after what they did. Maybe I went too far…?”
“Not in the slightest, Tifa. They deserved everything and more for what they did to my little Miki.” Mrs Fort growled.

Tifa, feeling awkward, offered her a sad little smile and nodded her head but then turned back to the Captain, waiting for a response.

“I don’t think you went too far either child, however I have been informed by Doctor Mira that they should both make a full recovery, though it will be painful and time consuming.”
“Good. They deserve nothing less!” Snapped Mrs Fort again.
“It sounds like someone deserves a medal.” Commented Mister Teilor, giving Tifa a gentle nudge.

She smiled and blushed slightly, her eyes on her plate.

The starter had been a delicious fish course with a delicate and well-seasoned sauce. And now the main course was a grilled steak that according to the Captain was from a freshly caught year old Epiolnis, flash-frozen to preserve flavour. Tifa was aware of the rarity and danger inherent in the hunting of these flightless avians, having heard about them from Zangan and assumed it to be somewhat of a delicacy.

Mister Teilor continued to pile on the compliments toward Tifa, which grew more and more flirtatious as the evening progressed and the alcohol flowed. Of course, she could see the seduction attempt from a mile away and even enjoyed a moment of silent contact with Ms. Amano. The young woman at one point, during a whispered compliment from Mister Teilor regarding her pronounced and exquisite teenage beauty, caught Tifa’s eye and rolled hers. Tifa had to stuff a forkful of steak into her mouth to hide her amused reaction. Though Mister Teilor appeared too drunk to notice the little at-his-expense exchange anyway.

The Fort’s acted as though they felt out of place and said little, merely being polite to the waiter who brought them their dishes and refilled the wine glasses as they were drained. Tifa wondered if they were feeling guilty about trying to enjoy themselves when their daughter lay in her hospital bunk recovering.

There was a general lull in the conversation, filled by another of the Captain’s stories about navigating a tidal wave in a storm, all while struggling through a ship-wide power outage. This filled the time while the main course plates were removed and then replaced by the dessert selection. Which was some kind of creamy honey and caramel parfait, in a rich toffee drizzle sauce.

“So, miss Tifa.” Mister Fort said suddenly, and a little too loudly, “What about this guy you're looking for? Miki said you're looking for a man.”

His grin was flirtatious and alcohol fuelled, as at that particular moment he wasn’t far behind Mister Teilor in both his manner and degree of inebriation.

“Shouldn’t be too hard for you, I’m sure you can have anyone you want… Anyone.” Mister Teilor said, insisting on adding his own little observation.
“Aren't you a little young for all that serious stuff? You should be out there having fun! Enjoying yourself!” Mister Fort carried on. “You know, not getting tied down!”

Tifa glanced at his Mrs Fort who looked flushed with embarrassment and seemed to be grinding her teeth.

“Live life while you’re young because once you settle down and commit yourself, it’s all downhill…” Mrs Fort grunted, heavily. “…Is that what you’re saying Harvie?”

Mister Fort wasn’t so drunk that he missed the barbed remark but as he turned to his wife, she had snatched up her glass of wine and was gulping down mouthful after mouthful. Her husband frowned at her, glanced at Tifa, blushed and then looked back down at his plate. Tifa felt it suddenly necessary to offer some kind of response, if only to intercept a potentially building argument.

“He teaches martial arts all around the world, and didn't think it was fair to be with me when he had to be travelling around all the time. It didn't occur to him that I could just travel with him.”
“Almost, sounds like putting your own life on hold for a man.” Mrs Fort muttered, almost insolently, staring into her mostly empty glass. “Following him around… Fitting yourself into his lifestyle…”

Then she looked up at Tifa, holding her eyes. Her plump cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated. It brought Tifa back to how Miki had looked in that storage cupboard under the stairs the previous day.

Tifa was still trying to think of a polite response when Mrs Fort gave a great sigh and waved a limp-wristed arm around dismissively.

“…Never mind me dear. I’m sure when you catch up with your young man, you’ll be blissfully happy together…”
“…If you find each other…”

She added the comment under her breath, her eyes lowered again. Though it was certainly loud enough for the rest of the table to hear.
Tifa left the meal early and in a deepening funk, her elated confident mood of earlier sorely diminished. After getting changed back into her normal clothing and cleaning off the make-up, she spent two hours in the training room and then returned to her cabin. Read a chapter or two of a copy of ‘Loveless’ that she had found in the bookshelf and then fell asleep.
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Final Fantasy 7. Tifa Lockhart: Journey to Midgar.