Two Letters and a Number

With a skillful ease, the sleek black bike maneuvered its way through the slowly emptying streets of Edge as people hurried home for dinner or finished their business for the day, but many waved when they saw Cloud drive by. Either they remembered him from the battle against Bahamut the Dragon a week earlier, or they had heard about the pool in Aeris’s church and had seen him there.

Turning a corner, Cloud pressed a new button on Fenrir’s dash, and the loading dock for the building next to the Seventh Heaven Bar opened, allowing Cloud to steer the sleek bike into the dock. A few days after he had woken up in the church, Tifa had presented him with the deed to the building attached to her bar with a small smile.

“Now you can have your peace and privacy without going too far if you don’t want,” she explained with her eyes dancing. “Plus this way, you can have a store front for your delivery service and a garage to work on your bike.”

Chuckling softly at the memory, Cloud closed the loading dock door as he turned off Fenrir, leaving the bike sitting in the dimness of the garage as the engine quietly ticked while it cooled, and the blond removed the swords from the bike before carefully carrying them into the main part of the building. On the second floor, he paused by the doorway that lead directly into the Seventh Heaven and flipped a switch next to it. He wasn’t quite sure when or how Tifa had done it, but she had the door installed and two light switches. If the green light was on, he was next door and wouldn’t mind company while the other was red indicating he didn’t feel like socializing right then. The blond was still a bit unsure how she managed to talk him into accepting everything, but here he was with his own place and the green light lit next door.

Placing the swords neatly out on a scarred table, he peeled off his gloves and methodically went over each sword, placing them to one side to be sharpened and worked on or to the other if they managed to survive unscathed.

There was a polite knock at the door before it opened and small feet pounded on the wooden floor, causing Cloud to look up as Denzel slid to a stop just inside the doorway. The young boy smiled at Cloud, his blue eyes dancing with laughter as he approached the table, mindful of the swords laid out like a surgeon’s tools. “Hi Cloud. Tifa says dinner’s in thirty minutes which will give you enough time to get cleaned up,” he announced, brushing his reddish brown bangs out of his face, and Cloud reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair, knowing that the message was probably a direct quote.

“Thanks. I’m going to work on these before heading over,” replied Cloud, waving a hand to the four swords that needed the most work before picking up the largest of his swords. There looked like a rock stuck in the hilt where the other swords fit into it, and he pulled out a small box of tools before carefully working the rock out.

He worked in silence for several minutes, sharpening a nick out here, fixing something there before nodding, satisfied that the swords were once more in working order as he replaced the tools in the small box. He exchanged the box with a bottle of oil and two rags, holding one rag out to Denzel as the boy’s face lit up with delight. This was something that they had done before Cloud contracted Geostigma and whenever Denzel was well enough to help. Cloud poured a bit of oil into a shallow bowl before dipping a rag into it and wiping the blade down, getting the dust and dirt off of it until it gleamed.

“Hey Cloud?” Denzel’s voice was hesitant as if unsure how his question would be received, and the blond man stopped working on the sword in his hand to regard the young boy with serious glowing blue eyes. “Do you think you could teach me to fight like you do?”

“Would this have anything with you charging Bahamut with no regards to your own safety?” inquired Cloud, and blue eyes lowered as an embarrassed flush stole across healthy tan cheeks. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Reaching out, Cloud hooked his finger under Denzel’s chin, raising the boy’s head to meet his eyes. “I’ll teach you on the term that you will *only* use what I teach you in your defense or in the defense of others. The second I hear that you’re picking fights, you’ll find yourself up against me and your lessons will stop right then and there. Got me?”

“Yes Cloud,” agreed the boy, his bright blue eyes dancing with excitement before he placed his current sword aside and moved to the next one on the table.

“Cloud! Denzel! Dinner’s ready!” Tifa’s voice floated through the air, and Denzel carefully placed the sword he had been wiping down on the table with the rag next to it, near Cloud’s own sword and rag. The blond escorted the young boy back through the door to the bar and into the small washroom to wash up when Tifa raised an eyebrow at them.

A few minutes later and the three of them were sitting around a small table enjoying dinner and generally chatting about their day. At least, Tifa and Denzel were chatting, filling him in. Cloud was silently eating as he mused over his day, his thoughts coming back to the strange group that claimed to be explorers from another planet. In all his travels, he could honestly state that he had never seen any outfit like theirs nor that golden staff the black guy with the gold tattoo on his forehead had been holding.

And then, the slender one with glasses had asked, with all seriousness, what the globe in his hands was. So Cloud had humored him, informed him what materia was and what he held in his hands and then, the look of surprise and delight in blue eyes partially hidden behind glasses had him digging out a leather cuff that he had absently stuffed in his pocket a couple of days ago, almost forgetting about it until that time. A few quick movements, and the blue-eyes man was in possession of a leather cuff with a Restore equipped in its slot.

“Cloud!” Tifa’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he blinked, looking up at her slightly concerned expression as she regarded him with serious brown eyes. “Are you listening?”

“Sorry,” he apologized, his glowing blue eyes shifting to stare at his plate like a kid being scolded by their parents. “I was just thinking about something.”

“Did anything happen today while you were helping Reno and Rude?” asked Tifa, her expression softening as took another bite of her food, waiting for his answer.

Cloud shook his head, blond bangs drifting across his vision with the movement. “Not really,” he admitted, hedging the truth a bit. “Just a group of people who got curious and wandered in. Reno was going to take them to talk to Shinra when I left.”

“About what?” Her eyes were full of curiosity now with a touch of chill at the thought of the President of Shinra, the company that had taken so much from everyone.

He shrugged a shoulder. “Something about an exchange of information. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” He tucked into his dinner, hoping that by filling his mouth with food, he could discourage her from asking too many questions about the strangers. There was a slight narrowing of her eyes that stated she wasn’t going to be put off by Cloud’s actions, but she shrugged her shoulder and inquired into plans for the next day.

“I have a quick delivery to run out to Kalm and then I’m going to work on the church, see if I can’t clean it up,” explained the blond with a quick glance at Denzel. “I need some place to teach Denzel how to fight.”

“Do you know where you’re going to get practice weapons?” Tifa inquired, standing up to gather up the dirty plates.

Cloud tossed Denzel a small smile, nothing more than a twitch of his lips, but the young boy caught it and beamed at Cloud. “There’s a weapon’s shop about two streets over,” Denzel volunteered, draining the last of his water. “Mr. Walter is always looking for help since he’s older now. I was thinking about applying for a job there, and maybe you could talk to him about some practice weapons. He’s also open later because he doesn’t have a family, and he told me that he doesn’t mind long hours ‘cause someone usually wanders in when his lights are on just to chat with him.”

“Finish dinner and we’ll go visit him,” agreed Cloud, standing up and taking his own dishes into the kitchen. Denzel whooped with excitement before digging into what was left of his dinner with the enthusiasm of a starving man.

After dropping his dishes in the sink, Cloud slipped next door and easily finished cleaning his swords with a practiced ease, sliding each sword into place around the largest sword to make the First Ken. The large sword was the same size and shape as the Buster Sword he had used what seemed like ages ago after Zack’s death, but it was heavier due to fact it was six swords made into one. Like the Buster Sword, the First Ken was now a comfortable weight to Cloud, either in the harness on his back in its six pieces or assembled into one sword in his hand.

“Cloud! I’m ready!” Denzel’s voice herald his arrival, and Cloud stood up, going to meet the young boy in the garage with the First Ken in his hand. Denzel’s blue eyes widened at the sight of the huge sword before he grinned. They never really needed words to talk before, a casual understanding of the other’s actions speaking louder than their voices, and for that, Cloud was grateful. Even after getting his head mostly straightened out and his memories separated from those that weren’t his, Cloud still wasn’t the most comfortable around large crowds of people.

Denzel scrambled up behind Cloud as the blond opened the docking bay door, and they roared out into the growing darkness, Denzel’s excited shouts and laughter trailing behind them. Small hands fisted into Cloud’s sweater as the bike turned a corner at a higher than safe speed, but there was no trembling from the small form pressed against his back, the innocent and unwavering trust that Denzel had for the older man warming Cloud.

Finally, Cloud pulled Fenrir to a stop before a shop, warm yellow light spilling out of the large windows, and Denzel was through the door before Cloud slipped off the powerful motorcycle. The blond shook his head at Denzel’s enthusiasm before following the boy into the shop.

The bell merrily rang at his entrance, and Cloud glanced around the interior of the small shop. There was a glass counter that ran along the walls with just enough room behind it for two people to walk between the counter and the wall while the left side and half of the back wall was covered in various guns. The rest of the wall and the right side displayed blades of all shapes and sizes.

“Ah, Mr. Strife, a pleasure to meet you,” greeted the old man behind the counter, and Cloud stared at him as he crossed the floor, the nagging feeling that he knew the spry man with the long gray beard and wispy white hair but unsure if it was one of *his* memories or one from the mako poisoning. “Young Denzel was just telling me that he wanted a job helping a poor old man out around his shop.”

“He’s allowed to work part time, Mr. Walter,” agreed Cloud, resting his hands on the glass counter. “Just let Tifa or I know when he’s working so we can work his schooling and training around when you need him.”

Sharp blue eyes twinkled under a wrinkled brow as strong white teeth flashed in the gray beard. “And you will require practice weapons for this training, correct?” Cloud nodded once, and Mr. Walter threw his head back and laughed. “By Odin’s Beard, today is a fortunate day for me all around. I not only gain a helper, I get to dispose of an old shipment of practice weapons that were never claimed.”

Cloud frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I was cleaning my storage room this morning and came across three crates of swords that had been ordered by Shinra before the world went topsy turvy,” explained Mr. Walter, motioning for them to follow him. Together the trio entered the storage room where three long crates were set out on the floor as if on display, each one bearing the familiar Shinra logo. “Apparently, they were going to be for their next group of SOLDIERs only no one came to pick them up.” The spry old man knelt next to one of the crates and flipped the lid off before stepping back to reveal a copy of the Buster Sword that now marked Zack’s grave on the cliff overlooking Midgar.

With a grunt, the old man managed to lever the huge sword out of the wooden crate to angle it in the light, showing the dull edges. “This was a special request from one of their SOLDIERs at the time. He mentioned something about teaching a chocobo and needed the right sword for the job.”

“Zack.” The name slipped past Cloud’s lips, knowing only one SOLDIER who had ever teased him about being a chocobo-in-training, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. This order had to be at least seven years old, waiting since Nibelheim blew up in everyone’s face and he lost five years of his life.

Shaking his head to dismiss those thoughts before he was dragged back into the melancholy that he had recently been able to shake off, Cloud held out his had. “May I?”

Mr. Walter nodded and Cloud wrapped his hand around the hilt, lifting it as if it was a feather. In truth, it felt about as heavy as a saber in his hand, making part of him wonder just what that crazy scientist had done to him before Zack had gotten him out of the Shinra Mansion. Taking several steps away from Denzel, Mr. Walter and the boxes, Cloud gracefully moved through the first few steps of a kata that Zack had once taught him with a bastard sword, enjoying for a few brief minutes the feel of his muscles working as he wanted them to without pain from Geostigma. It had seemed like *forever* since he had been without pain and the surges in his left arm that could drive him to his knees as he desperately tried to keep from passing out from the agony. Closing his eyes, Cloud allowed his body to move, shutting out the rest of the world as he concentrated on the weight of the sword in his hands and the pull of muscles as he feet firmly carried him across the floor.

With one last twirl of the sword, Cloud lowered the massive blade to the floor and opened his eyes, blinking in surprise at the looks of wonder and awe directed at him by Mr. Walter and Denzel, and he ducked his head, embarrassed. He hadn’t been deliberately showing off. He had only wanted to test the sword and then fell into the kata as a manner of habit, having trained under Zack’s watchful eye and occasionally Sephiroth’s when the General had come looking for the best of the SOLDIERs himself.

“Wow, Cloud,” breathed Denzel, his blue eyes wide as he stared at the blond man. “That was *awesome*!”

A soft chuckle slipped out of Mr. Walter. “Your friend might not have had the chance to give you that sword, young man, but it looks like he trained you well.”

Embarrassment flooded Cloud’s cheeks as he replaced the practice sword in the crate, glancing over the rest of the swords packed in the straw with a quick eye. They were an assortment of regular swords, none as big as the Buster sword that he was most comfortable with, but definitely ones he could train Denzel with. “How much for them?” Cloud asked, setting the lid back on the crate even as he tried to avoid both sets of eyes he was all too aware of.

“Well considering Shinra already paid for ‘em and then forgot ‘em,” mumbled the man, stroking his gray beard before shrugging. “If you can haul ‘em away, they’re yours. I need the room for other things.” Before Cloud could protest and offer *something* in exchange for the weapons, Mr. Walter turned to Denzel. “As for you, my fine young man, I’ll give you a trial period tomorrow from thirteen hundred to seventeen hundred.”

The next thing Cloud was aware of, he was back on Fenrir with three long crates carefully strapped to the powerful bike and the old man was locking the door behind both Denzel and the blond. Cloud looked down at Denzel who was grinning up at him, and a small smile touched his lips. “How about we drop these off at the church and then go for a quick ride?” Cloud offered, feeling the need to go check up on Zack’s grave even though he had been up there yesterday.

Instead of jumping at the chance, Denzel looked at him with those blue eyes that seemed so much older than the ten year old boy. “I’ll help with the swords, but Tifa wanted me to help out a bit around the Seventh Heaven tonight,” he replied with a careless shrug. “We can go riding another time.”

Cloud reluctantly nodded and drove down to the ruins of Midgar to what had once been Sector Five, pausing long enough for Denzel to open the make-shift doors of the church wide enough for Fenrir to enter. Carefully, he steered the large bike around the pool of water that managed to sparkle in the night and into the large room behind the main hall. There, Cloud easily stacked the boxes between some crates and tossed a tarp over the whole thing. He wasn’t worried about anyone stealing them because there was nothing worth stealing in the ruins, having been picked over long ago for anything of value.

“Did you fix this place up, Cloud?” Denzel asked, his voice soft as he looked around the room illuminated by Fenrir’s headlights.

“A bit,” confessed the blond, his right hand coming up to automatically rub his left arm where the sore had been. It had been during the time he had been infected with Geostigma and had cut back on the deliveries he was making. He hadn’t wanted to be a burden to any of his friends and sought sanctuary in the old church ruins, working on cleaning it up when he could.

Denzel nodded at the unspoken acknowledgment of when the older man had started working on the ruins, his own hand coming up to rub his forehead before shaking his head. “Well, I’d better get back to the bar,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Never know when Reno and his buddies will drop by for drinks, and then Tifa has her hands full keeping irate customers from redecorating the bar with the Turks’ heads.”

Cloud nodded and less than a half hour later, Denzel was waving to him from the door of the Seventh Heaven as Cloud headed for the outskirts of Edge and opened Fenrir up all the way, enjoying the feel of the cool wind blowing through his hair and the powerful bike under his control. It was one of the reasons the blond enjoyed doing deliveries so much, aside from the chance to get away from people for a while. Out here, it was just Cloud, Fenrir, and whatever monster they happened to come across during their travels.

Finally, all too soon, Cloud pulled to a stop near the large Buster Sword that was sticking out of the ground, and he slipped off the powerful bike to sit on a rock near the sword. Rust streaked the once pristine surface of the sword, creating shadows on the metal when the headlight hit it, and Cloud rested his elbows on his knees as he stared at the sword.

“Found your present today,” he said, his glowing eyes fixed on the sword even as he pictured Zack leaning back against it in the careless sprawl he always assumed whenever he was sitting. “I can’t believe you told that old guy you were training a chocobo. Like your hair wasn’t as bad.”

In his mind, Zack laughed and shrugged off Cloud’s protests with good humor, one of the reasons no one could stay mad at the SOLDIER for long. “Met an interesting group today while helping Reno and Rude out at the ruins. They claimed to be explorers and scouts from another planet.” The blond shrugged a shoulder causing the leather he wore to creak with the movement. “I know we’re not alone in the universe, Jenova proved that, but they claimed to have come here through a Stargate that was in the basement of the old Shinra Headquarters. There were four of them, and the one with glasses asked what the Restore materia he had was and how to use it.” He shook his head with a sigh. “If they’re not from another planet, they’re great actors ‘cause I could honestly believe that they hadn’t seen materia before.”

Glowing blue eyes turned away from the sword to look at the dark ruins of Midgar and the brighter lights of Edge just beyond. “I miss you, Zack,” he sighed, his words a whisper on the breeze. “You always knew what to do or what to say to make everything easier. Tifa freaked out for a good half hour after Sephiroth died again because whatever happened to Denzel while he was with Kadaj and his brothers, he had eyes like the General’s when she found him in the square. How could I tell her that there were times when *my* eyes look like his for a while?”

It was just one more thing that Cloud cursed Hojo for, the insane scientist who had decided to use both him and Zack as his pet experiments. There were days when the blond had to wonder what was done to him during those five years he was Hojo’s “guest”, making him reach for the phone to call one of the Turks for the information, but just when he was about ready to dial, a small voice stated that perhaps it was better to *not* know what he had been put through. It wouldn’t change anything and Hojo was still dead.

Shaking his head, Cloud ran a hand through his spiky hair and slipped back on his bike. “I’ll see you around, Zack,” he murmured before gunning the engine and roaring back to Edge, never noticing the white petals that swirled around the sword on a faint breeze.

@@@

Daniel casually glanced around the bar they were in and tried not to stare at anyone. The Seventh Heaven was different than the bars that Daniel was use to with a friendly atmosphere despite the industrial appearance and happy chatter filling the air with the occasional drunk laugh. The smell of cooked food, *good* cooked food, overpowered the scent of alcohol, and Daniel found himself smiling at the young girl who bounced over to their table.

“Hi, I’m Yuffie!” she greeted, her short black hair being kept out of her eyes by a black headband while her gray vest flapped open to reveal a black shirt with white flowers on it. Knee-high yellow combat boots over black knee protectors and short khaki shorts made up the rest of her outfit. Her brown eyes were laughing until they fell on Reno and Rude and then she wrinkled her nose. “I suppose it was just a matter of time before you two came crawling in.”

“I’m hurt, babe,” pouted Reno, spreading his hands in an innocent manner. “We helped with that problem last week, didn’t we? And besides, you’re making us look bad in front of our guests.”

She snorted but turned to Daniel and his friends. “What can I get for you?”

As she turned, Daniel noticed a dark pink ribbon tied around her left arm and he remembered that Cloud had been wearing one as well. While they placed their order for drinks and food, Daniel took a casual look around the room to see if those ribbons were a fashion statement or something more, but only spotted a few people wearing them. There was a large black man wearing green pants and a white zip up vest with his right arm metal from the elbow down laughing with a blond man in a blue shirt and black pants and the pretty bartender with the dark hair and black leather vest. All had dark pink ribbons tied around their arms.

‘They’re in memory of someone then,’ decided Daniel, resting his head on his hand as he watched the blond light up a cigarette and the bartender didn’t even pause as she dropped a heavy ashtray by his elbow just in time to have the match flicked into the glass ashtray. A little girl who couldn’t have been more than eight walked over to the black man and smiled at him as he scooped her up, pink hair ribbons fluttering around the braid down her back.

Then Yuffie was back with beer mugs clutched in her hands followed by a boy about ten or eleven who had two more mugs, and he placed one mug in front of Daniel by leaning over his shoulder. “Keep your materia hidden from Yuffie,” the boy whispered in Daniel’s ear. “She doesn’t steal materia anymore but old habits die hard.”

“Denzel!” called the bartender, her voice ringing out over the conversations. “Order’s up!”

“Coming, Tifa!” the boy called, weaving his way through the customers to scoop up a couple of plates, carrying them over to another table, ducking the black man’s hand as he reached out to ruffle the reddish brown hair with an “Aw, Barrett!”

“Interesting crowd you hang out with,” remarked Jack, taking a sip of his beer before eyeing the mug in surprise. “Good beer too.”

Reno shrugged and leaned back in his chair, ignoring the occasional dirty looks being tossed their way. “So some of the locals don’t like us ‘cause of our job. Big deal. It’s not like we’re out slaughtering children or plucking chocobos for shits and giggles.”

Unable to help himself, Daniel nodded at that, remembering the explanation they had gotten from Rufus Shinra, President and CEO of Shinra Electric. The company had done a lot to earn the ire of the general population, but after his brush with death and then a debilitating disease that only recently cleared up had the man taking a long hard look at what he wanted for the future of his company and his world.

Daniel’s thoughts were interrupted by young Denzel bringing plates of food over to them, but when the archaeologist looked at the boy to thank him, Denzel’s eyes briefly flickered to a bright blue-green with slit pupils before returning to a normal, human blue. No one else at the table seemed to notice it, or if they did, they were ignoring it, so Daniel tossed the incident to the back of his mind as just another quirk of this place. Perhaps he could ask Reno about it to see if it was normal for this world later.

The door opened and the archaeologist looked up to find Cloud strolling across the floor to claim a seat at the bar, twisting around to lean against the wall as Tifa placed a coffee mug at his elbow before bustling off to help another customer. It was strange because even with his head lowered, Cloud still gave Daniel the impression of watching the entire room and seeing everything that went on without meeting anyone’s eyes.

Just as they finished dinner, a large man with lank brown hair hiding most of his face stumbled over to their table, reeking of alcoholic fumes. “Damn dirty Turks,” he sneered, and Daniel recoiled from the wave of alcohol that flowed from the man like a tidal wave. “Shouldn’t be showin’ yer face in public like descent folk.”

Reno grinned and spread his hands as he leaned back in his chair, adopting a harmless air. “We’re just here for dinner and some drinks, yo. Nothin’ ta get worked up about.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because the man swung at Reno, his fist connecting with the young man’s face and sending him crashing to the ground. Rude jumped to his feet as Daniel managed to get between the man and Reno, who was slowly getting to his feet. “Now, I’m sure we can sit down and talk...”

Not even hesitating, the man back handed Daniel in the stomach and sent him flying across the room as if he’d been hit by a Jaffa. He was surprised when strong arms caught him before he could crash into anything or had even been thrown more than half a dozen feet from the argument brewing.

“That’s enough of that,” announced a firm voice, and Daniel looked up to find Cloud standing there, his glowing blue eyes hard and unwavering as he stared at the drunk man even while he continued holding Daniel with ease. Blue eyes flickered down to Daniel who managed to get his knees to stop trembling long enough to hold his weight. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, curling an arm around his stomach when his abdominal muscles protested his talking. “Bit sore, but fine.”

Cloud nodded and walked to stand in front of the man, getting between him and Reno. “There’s no fighting here,” Cloud stated, his voice hard and commanding, and Daniel glanced around to realize that people had stopped talking and were watching with rapt attention.

The man sneered at the blond, towering over him by a good foot and with shoulders that could easily take up two zip codes. “Taking up with the dirty Turks?” he sneered, reaching out to poke a finger in Cloud’s chest with enough force to rock the blond back a few inches. “Should have known a SOLDIER like you would stick up for your employers.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to be any help, Daniel backed away from the tense situation only to bump into another person, and he looked up to find Barrett standing there with Yuffie and the blond man. Barrett nodded to Daniel and politely stepped around the archaeologist before taking a few more steps closer to Cloud. “You want us to help you throw this joker out, Cloud?”

“The first person who starts a fight in here will be cleaning up the mess and paying for any repairs,” warned Tifa coming out from behind the bar to glare at the drunk, her arms folded across her chest. “If you want to brawl, take it outside.”

The man turned to Tifa and sneered at her. “Shinra Lover!” he spat before turning back to the unfazed blond before him. “I’m going to enjoy taking you apart, SOLIDER.”

“Barrett, see to Marlene and Denzel,” Cloud instructed, not removing his eyes from the drunk man. “Vincent, if you could get the door for this gentleman.”

Daniel expected the blond man in the blue shirt to open the door but was surprised when his gaze fell on a man clothed in black leather with a tattered crimson cloak tossed over his shoulder and partially covering his lower face as he opened the door leading to the outside. There was a glitter of gold from behind that crimson cloak causing the archaeologist to think of a ribbon-device for a split second before his eyes made out the rest of the golden clawed gauntlet that stretched from Vincent’s left elbow down. But there was a dark pink ribbon tied around his right forearm.

The drunk took a swing at Cloud, and the blond was suddenly behind the man with the man’s arm twisted up between his shoulders. A quick shove and the man went staggering out the open door with Cloud following him out, and Vincent politely closed the door behind them.

“We have to help Cloud,” Daniel stated, starting towards the door only to be stopped by Jack’s hand on his shoulder. “That man’s at least twice his size.”

“Cloud can take care of himself,” drawled the blond man with an accent similar to that found in the Southern states of USA, taking another drag off his cigarette. “Besides, I don’t wanna ruin his fun.”

Barrett chuckled. “He gets three minutes and then I’m joining in,” he stated.

The blond snorted. “Five Gil says he’s back in less than one.”

“Deal, Cid,” agreed Barrett holding his hand out to the blond who shook on it. As soon as their hands dropped, the door opened and Cloud came back in, not looking like he had been in a fight at all. Barrett rolled his eyes and slapped a couple of coins in the outstretched hand causing Cid to chuckle as he tucked them into his pocket.

A faint chuckle slipped out of Daniel at their antics as he relaxed a bit more, and he glanced over at Vincent, getting a better look at the dark arrival. Long black hair falling past his shoulders and barely being kept out of burning red eyes and a pale face by a red headband while a holster with a large gun was strapped around his right leg, and strange gold armor over his black boots that made it look like his feet were pointed and almost twice as long as a normal person’s. There was something menacing about him, but also something that told Daniel he would be the first person on the front line to protect the innocents should something happen.

“We don’t need you to protect us, Strife,” growled Reno, dusting his rumpled suit off and glaring at the blond man. “Nor do we need you to fight our battles for us.”

Cloud simply looked at Reno with a neutral expression. “If you want to finish what he started, he’s outside where he knocked himself out against the wall trying to swing at me again,” he explained in a calm voice before resuming his seat at the bar.

Daniel watched at Vincent claimed a seat next to Cloud, and Tifa only rolled her eyes as she placed a mug of coffee in front of Vincent. There was an easy comradery between the two that was easy to see in the way they were comfortable around each other. There was a comfort with the others, but it wasn’t as close as it was between Cloud and Vincent, like the group was a team that had drifted apart for a bit but was finding their way back together.

‘Or Cloud distanced himself from them,’ mused Daniel as he resumed his seat at the table, his eyes flickering around at everyone who wore a pink ribbon. Everyone seemed comfortable with each other, chatting and apparently getting caught up on lost time, but Cloud and Vincent remained quiet in their corner of the bar, content with watching people.

“Interesting time,” Jack remarked, glancing at Barrett. “Do fights break out often?”

Barrett smirked. “Not really, but then that wasn’t a fight,” he drawled. “More of a disagreement between parties.”

“Besides, the smart ones really don’t want to go against Tifa for messing up her bar,” agreed Denzel as he picked up one of the chairs, tossing a smirk at the older woman who only smiled and shook her head, sending the dark hair dancing around her shoulders.

Daniel silently groaned and felt like smacking his forehead at the speculative gleam in Jack’s eyes as the older man glanced over at the attractive bar tender. “So does she use you guys often to carry out her threats?” inquired the colonel, one eyebrow bouncing up in a questioning manner as he regarded Barrett.

That got a laugh out of Barrett as the black man slapped Jack on the shoulder with his left hand, causing the colonel to stagger a bit. “Tifa doesn’t need anyone to carry out her threats,” he announced, his voice booming through the bar. “She’s strong enough to carry them out on her own.”

That got another raised eyebrow and Jack nodding as he apparently humored the crazy man. “Of course she is,” he agreed, his words stating he didn’t believe it for a bit.

“Hey Tifa, didn’t you have some kegs in the back you needed help with?” Barrett called, turning to face the pretty bartender who could *not* have heard their discussion from her position near the end of the bar.

She nodded. “I was going to move them later, but I didn’t realize I was going to be so busy tonight,” she agreed, glancing at Jack with an innocent look that had a few of her friends exchanging glances and smirks. “Want to help me out a bit?”

Nodding, Jack and Daniel followed Tifa into the back of the bar where there were crates of bottles and three large metal kegs. Easily three feet tall and at least a foot in diameter, to Daniel they looked big and heavy, not something that a person could easily carry with two hands without help.

“If you can grab one for me, I’ll get the others,” she requested, waving a hand to the kegs. Jack eyed her and then the kegs before walking over and rocking each of them slightly, verifying that each was full. Bending down, Jack grunted as he heaved the large keg into his arms and staggered slightly away from the other two kegs. Calmly, Tifa walked over and scooped a keg up under each arm as if it weighed nothing more than a child before tossing a smile at the colonel. “This way.”

Biting his tongue against the laughter that threatened to escape his chest, Daniel followed a stunned and sweating colonel as Jack staggered into the main room of the bar and almost collapsed as he set the keg down next to the bar, next to the two Tifa casually placed on the floor.

“Okay, you can carry out your own threats,” Jack agreed as he collapsed in a nearby chair with a relieved sigh, shaking the feeling back into his arms. Daniel rolled his eyes at his friend and commander’s antics before glancing at Tifa.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but who are the ribbons for?” he asked, gesturing to the pink ribbon she wore around her left arm.

A sad smile stretched across Tifa’s face. “They’re for a friend that was killed about two years ago,” she stated, her right hand coming up to touch the dark rose satin. “She was amazing, and with her help, the world was saved from the Nightmare.”

“I’m sorry,” apologized Daniel, his voice sincere. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories for any of you.”

“Nah.” Barrett brushed his apology off with a white grin, the twin claw marks on his right cheek crinkling with the motion. “We just don’t talk about her is all. Didn’t know her as well as some people did.”

For some reason, that statement caused Daniel to glance over at Cloud who was back to watching the bar without really watching it, but the archaeologist knew that the blond had heard every word that had passed among them, despite being at the other end of the bar. Yet Cloud didn’t move from his end of the bar or even seem inclined to talk with them about this friend.

“A real sweet girl,” agreed Reno, walking over to the bar and grabbing a couple of napkins to dab at his split lip. “Hell of a cook too.”

Barrett snorted and folded his arms. “What would a Turk like you know about her?” he demanded, his dark eyes flashing. “You Turks were always following her and bugging her before you grabbed her.”

Snorting, Reno rolled his eyes. “We were under orders, yo,” he drawled, wiping the small trickle of blood from his chin. “And we stalled as long as we could, making up all sorts of excuses when Old Man Shinra got too pushy. That order came from the Boss and Tseng.”

“And I suppose Sector Seven was another order from your Boss and Tseng,” sneered Barrett, getting into the redhead’s face. Daniel took a step back, not willing to get in the middle of what sounded like an old argument that was finally being aired out.

“None of us liked that order or even agreed with it, but if we didn’t do it, then someone else with less skill would have and probably would have brought down the rest of the Plate as well,” snarled Reno, getting into the black man’s face and with the red spiky hair, looked like some exotic bird. Especially with the red tattoos emphasizing his bright blue-green eyes. “We did what we could to save the people we could. We knew Old Man Shinra was off his rocker and had been for a while.”

“Then why didn’t you disobey that order?” asked Tifa, her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Because we’re Turks,” stated Rude, his deep voice firm and unmoving as he spoke for the first time in hours. “We might bend an order if our superior’s think it unfair but we don’t disobey them.”

Reno sneered and jerked a thumb at Vincent. “Don’t believe us, ask your buddy there. He knows what it means to be a Turk better than all of ya.”

Daniel glanced over at Jack whose eyebrows were making a run for his hairline before tuning his attention back to the fight. Rufus Shinra had told them many things but nothing about dropping this plate anyone, or about bothering apparently innocent citizens. Looks like they were going to have another talk with the President of Shinra Inc when they got back to Healin where he currently was staying. But what was that part about Vincent knowing more than any of them what it meant to be a Turk? Reaching into his back pocket, Daniel pulled out the small notepad he had gotten from Shinra and a pen before scribbling his questions and concerns on a clean sheet of paper, both from this argument and a few points from this evening alone.

“All I’m sayin’ is that ya can’t trust anyone associated with Shinra,” continued Barrett, not backing down from Reno’s glare or Rude’s stony silence. “Past, present or future! They’re all thievin’ lyin’ murderin’ crooks and so is anyone associated with them!”

Apparently, the black man had gone too far by the sudden tension that raced through the room and the thunderous expression that appeared on Cid’s face. “You’d better not be including me in that opinion of yours,” growled the scruffy blond man, his lit cigarette bobbing in his lips as he glared at Barrett. “Especially since I was associated with ‘em.”

“Have you forgotten that you were part of AVALANCHE and a leader of that organization for some time?” inquired Vincent, his deep smooth voice like whiskey even as his red eyes burned. “A terrorist organization that carried out the bombing of several manned reactors.”

Barrett sputtered at that point of logic as Cloud rose to his feet, and he walked past Barrett, not saying a word as glowing blue eyes met snapping brown, before he vanished into the back. just as Barrett’s shoulders slumped. Daniel glanced over at Jack, catching his commander’s eye before quietly slipping after the blond while everyone’s attention was focused on Barrett.

He had questions, and he was willing to bet his last dollar that Cloud would be willing to answer them.

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