For Mare_Nadia!

If being a mercenary was this easy all the time, Cloud decided, he could certainly grow fond of it.

He stood by the door of Seventh Heaven, watching patrons as they ate and drank and cajoled inside. An easy gig, given to him by his childhood friend, Tifa; be a bouncer during the evening, and get half the tip jar. The first night he had been incredulous, but gave her the benefit of the doubt regardless. It had worked in his favor, the jar stuffed full of coins and bills when she had closed for the evening.

It was steadily filling up again tonight.

His mako-tainted eyes fell on Tifa as she cleaned a small beer spill off the counter, her face framed by dark locks that brought out the red hues in her irises, that reminded him of the cherry cola he favored since he first came to Midgar years ago. She had a smile on her face, and she was talking to a patron as she mopped up the rest of the mess.

She nodded at the stranger, then bent down to refill another mug of beer.

Satisfied for now, Cloud gazed at the rest of the bar, looking for trouble. A few fellows played at the pinball machine, clapping each other's backs but not breaking any rules. A group of obvious Shinra office workers sat at a table and ate in peace, making Cloud ponder Tifa's words earlier.

A very good friend of hers could have a job for him. His eyes went back to her. Five years...Of course she had friends that weren't him. He saved her life, but he didn't escape with her. How did he escape, again? How did she?

A sharp pain shot through his head. He winced and held his hand to his forehead, waiting for it to pass.

The headaches and mental fog had become more frequent since he arrived in Midgar. Must be the smog.

"Hey hey, sweetheart!"

He glared towards the source of that jovial voice. That husky, masculine voice that was asking for the attention of his childhood friend...like that. Who was he? He wasn't in the bar last night. Above the din of Tifa's many customers, he strained to hear with his sensitive, mako-enhanced ears.

"Hi, Dax! Been a while, hasn't it?" Cloud watched as her smile opened up and her eyes brightened. "What would you like?"

"Your special, of course! So, Tifa…"

The way he said her name woke up something ugly inside his chest. It was like he knew her, or wanted to get to know her, and who was he? Cloud looked him up and down: tall, broad shouldered, strong chin when he turned towards his probably-wing man, dark wispy hair.

Cloud bit his lip and squeezed his arms when Dax touched her hand. The absolute audacity. Tifa deserved better than some random bar hopper.

His brows raised in surprise for just a moment as Tifa gracefully moved her hand, then slapped Dax's in a playful fashion...no, a gentle warning. She was still smiling; how real was it?

He let out a huff, relief settling in his gut as she rejected this would-be suitor. But what if he could woo her?

Why do you care?

Huh?

Why do you care if Tifa goes out with someone? You just met again.

Cloud studied her as she fixed up a few drinks. ...Because...she's...my friend?

It's been how long?

That doesn't matter.Why did it ring so hollow?

"Hey! Keep your hands to yourself!"

He snapped out of his thoughts in time to see Tifa sock a man in the face. It was impressive, the amount of control she had, using just enough force to knock his head away and into his mug, but not so much as to break his jaw. Unfortunately it wasn't Dax, but this one had his hand suspiciously near her bottom. A middle aged lech.

He grimaced and marched over, a weight in his heart quickening his steps. Cloud's hand gripped the drunk patron by his shirt collar and roughly pulled him out of his seat. "You've had too much to drink."

"I just got started, pal!"

Cloud continuously walked towards the entrance, ignoring what little resistance the man gave. "I'm about to get started on you if you don't leave peacefully."

"Hey, who the hell do you think you are?" came a voice behind the ex-SOLDIER.

He turned his head, still gripping the patron as he tried to free himself. "The bouncer."

"You ain't Barret!"

"He's filling in for him," Tifa answered as she forcefully put down a glass of beer. "Behave, or he's tossing you out."

Taylor sneered at Cloud, then glared back at Tifa. "He don't got the right."

"You next?" Cloud called out. When he didn't respond, he continued towards the door.

The stale slum air greeted him as he tossed the man onto the porch and down the steps, rolling into a group of passersby. With a final look, he closed the door and returned to his watch with a sense of satisfaction, the entire bar looking back at him for a moment before going back to their drinks and food.

He felt smug.

Then he looked at Tifa. She wasn't smiling anymore.

He hadn't come in time to stop it from happening.

Why did that thought...hurt so much?

The rest of the night went by far more peacefully, and Tifa's smile returned slowly. When the last patron left for the night, she locked the door behind them, then motioned for Cloud to sit at the counter. He hesitated, but when she turned back to him, a brow raised, he finally went to a barstool. His arms rested on the cool wood, cleaned of every crumb of fried chicken and every drop of alcohol.

She slid the tip jar over and started counting. "I'm sorry I put you up to this. It's just there's a lot to do, and it really helps when someone's looking for trouble…"

He swallowed thickly. Why was she apologizing to him? Someone copped a feel because he wasn't paying attention. "S'fine."

The sound of bills being shuffled and laid out filled his ears as he watched. She was deftly counting and then dividing the money into two piles. Did he really deserve this? He failed.

Carefully, she moved a stack towards him with a small tower of coins next to it. "There's your cut, Cloud! Two hundred fifty gil."

He studied it, but made no move for it. Tifa tilted her head to the side. "Cloud?"

"...I…" He swallowed again, then nibbled on his upper lip. "Are you alright?" His eyes traveled to hers, soft and tired.

She looked taken aback, then smiled at him. For him. Genuine, happy. "I'm fine, Cloud." she patted his hand softly, not too short, not too long. Like a friend reconnecting. "Thank you."

He shrugged dismissively. "I didn't stop it."

"You finished it," she stated with cheekiness in her voice. "That's what's important."

Slowly he nodded, and with that, he pocketed his cut. "Thanks, Tifa."

Another smile, even warmer than the last one, setting off a mysterious warmth in his chest. "Same time tomorrow? My friend'll have all the details for the job afterwards."

"Yeah." He looked about the bar. It was still a bit of a mess here and there.

He didn't have to go to the motel right away. "Need help cleaning up?"

She put a hand on her hip and quirked up a brow. "How much will it cost?"

Cloud smirked despite himself. "Eh, you already paid."

Tifa giggled into her hand. It sounded wonderful. "I appreciate it!"

He stood up, and she came around from behind the bar with a broom. Handing it to him, she began to clean off a nearby table. Taking a look at her backside one last time, he began to sweep the floor.

He had to put in a little extra for those smiles she threw his way.