• The usual bustle of trench coat wearing men coiled past one another, shuffling past their thick fabrics and wooden chairs. The rain tapped its fingertips against the large windowpanes upon Seventh Heaven’s bar front, but only the customers by the glass could hear the hush the water made over the crowd’s liquor slicked conversations. A brunette woman sat in the corner, beneath a dusty silver embroidered picture frame, wearing an apron that may have matched its exact state. A glum expression settled into her Venus like features as she propped her hand inside her palm.

    She was so deep in thought that she barely noticed the presence hovering over her until she felt a drop of cold water prickle her knuckle. With a startled gasp, she jumped and looked up at a hooded man, soaked to the bone and wiping the rain from his brow.

    “Is this seat taken, beautiful?”

    The man smirked, squinting from the water trickling over his eye as he tried to meet her gaze successfully.

    Tifa felt a bit foolish as heat began to creep to her cheeks. Even though she was on break, the thought of taking the only empty, dry seat and denying it to the poor, freezing outsider would be against her morals. Of course, on an evening like this, her bar ended up more full rather than empty, sheltering the passerby’s who ended up stranded on foot or their vehicles couldn’t get through the mud. Sometimes, she even jested to herself that she should have started an Inn instead, but she knew she didn’t have enough patience to run a service that never officially closed. It was only nights like these that she opened her doors until the sun came up. She was glad to provide a little warmth, but at the same time, standing hours on end wore her out.

    Hoping her smile would not betray her tired eyes and her embarrassment for being so inconsiderate, she nodded. “Oh! Of course not-”

    She motioned to get up, but instead the stranger offered a hand. “It’s okay if you wanna stay. I’m not kicking you out.”

    “No- I mean, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

    “Nah. What kind of guy would I be to deny a working lady a seat in her own place?”

    A spike of adrenaline flickered in her chest. Arching a brow, she asked warily, “How do you know I own this place?”

    Sensing her defensiveness, the man quickly raised his hands in mock surrender. “I just asked a random guy before I squeezed over here if it was safe to claim this seat or approach you. Wouldn’t want to just sit in a seat where your boyfriend or something was just in. And if he was in the mood to pick a fight, I don’t know if I could’ve resisted complying.”

    Taken by his humor, she assured him, “Don’t worry. The seat’s empty. Sorry, for being a little defensive there.”

    “No problem. A little suspicion can save your life someday...”

    He sat down across from her, the sound of vinyl giving a squeak as he settled. A large bag slumped from his shoulder to the wood paneled floor before he flipped back the hood over his face. The redhead was young, around her age, Tifa presumed, and his long spikes of hair were weighed down to his shoulders because of the rain. The brunette was about to point out a speck of dust over his face when she noticed the dim light in the corner exposed the points to be tattoos. Curiosity beckoned her, but she quickly ignored it.

    When he huffed onto his pale hands, Tifa internally chastised herself for her loss of manners.

    “Can I get you something?”

    “It’s okay. You’re resting now.”

    “Are you sure? You look cold.”

    “I’m a lot tougher than I look,” he jested, revealing his grin to be very handsome- and somewhat mischievous. She wasn’t sure what to make of the expression.

    Not wanting to give up- or rather seeking to erase the nudge of guilt in her from not serving the wet, stranded customer, the martial artist tried again.

    “Well, you know on nights like these, when the weather’s bad, I like to serve tea and hot chocolate, too. Sometimes cold beer doesn’t do the trick on an equally cold day.”

    He lent her a smirk - one that she found herself responding to somehow.

    “And cookies?”

    “I don’t have any money,” he continued to grin, charmed that her beauty was apparently matched with her kindness.

    “It’s okay. Stormy late nights are on the house.”

    If it hadn’t been for the distinct touch of his frigid fingertips running into her own along the tabletop, she would not have noticed the distance that had closed between them. Like an eager child, the woman was tucked into the table, on the edge of her seat and was coaxed in by- by his what? His words? His voice? His smile?

    She had no idea! Feeling the need to rush off and fetch the drink before she delved too deeply into this conversation, Tifa abruptly got up.

    “Chocolate or tea?”

    “Chocolate.”

    “With milk or water?”

    “Surprise me.”

    “Sugar or oatmeal?”

    “Hmm?”

    “Cookies.”

    “Sugar.”

    “All right. I’ll be right back-”

    “Wait.”

    “Yes?”

    “Is there something I can call you, or should I just refer to you as ‘waitress’?”

    Judging by his expressions unveiling within the past few moments, Tifa surmised she had released a safety she was sure the man was previously keeping on himself when he first arrived. He was careful at first, resistant, and now, suddenly more open and friendly- maybe even flirtatious. Craving a little company and a good laugh, the brunette didn’t shy away from his personality. Matter of fact, after such a long night, she welcomed something to keep her awake.

    “It’s Tifa.”

    With a nod, he returned the favor. “Name’s Axel. Don’t forget it by the time you come back.”

    With shared laughter, the woman assured him that she wouldn’t before she walked away. When she returned with the frothy mug and a tin full of sweets, Axel was comfortably fitted inside the booth, his eyes closed and in peace. She almost felt regret that perhaps she’d taken too long before his emerald eyes snapped open again the moment she stood by the table.

    “I’m sorry. Do you want to go back to resti-”

    “Nah. I’m awake. And those cookies sound good right about now.”

    Tifa handed him the mug and the cookie tin. Cupping her chin into her palms again, she watched as he sipped the steamed drink with relief.

    “So, Axel- what brings you to this side of the woods at one in the morning?”

    “The woods, huh? This place have a name?”

    How curious that the man did not know where he was…

    “This is right outside Edge. We’re a few miles from the city. Are you a traveler?”

    The redhead scoffed to himself. “Something like that. I was looking for a place to stay, but the rain kind of made that impossible.”

    Tifa’s trained eyes failed to miss the slight tremor that caused his finger to clink awkwardly against his mug.

    “Yeah. Some of the roads out here aren’t cemented yet, so it can get pretty muddy out there.”

    Axel’s grip on his cup tightened to secure the anxiety he was masking, almost professionally.

    “The rain sucks. I hate the rain.”

    “Really? I find it nice sometimes.”

    The woman continued to ravel him into conversation. It seemed the more she spoke to him, the more her inner radar rose.

    “Says the person who was inside and dry.”

    The brunette laughed, slowly becoming aware of every small distinct and involuntary movement his body conjured. He was covered in an earthy toned wool smock, and worn with the hood, if his voice hadn’t sounded so welcoming, Tifa might have found him shady. The way he snuck up on her, past the murmurs of her customers and managed to catch her off guard, she worried that Axel was more than what met her eye.

    Their eyes met in an eternal moment of suspicion, curiosity and audacity. It was a few seconds before Tifa blinked her gaze from his and suggested, “Hey, do you plan to stay here for a while?”

    Gesturing at the weather outside, Axel nodded. “Can’t say I have any pressing appointments any time soon.”

    “Then, do you mind if I get myself some chocolate, too? I’ll be right back- that is, if you still care for the company.”

    When the wanderer smiled this time, the corners of his lips stretched to bare his teeth.

    “Hot drinks always taste better within the company of a good looking woman.”


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Hours had past by the time the bar emptied. The rain let up just enough for drivers to get their engines started and strollers to get to the city with only some drizzle for discomfort. Most of them wanted to reach their destination, and truthfully, all Tifa wanted to reach was her bed. She glanced at the clock above the entrance to painfully note that it was three in the morning. As she winded a rag through the rims of the last few clean glasses, Axel had already acquainted himself with a stool beside her, using his wit to keep the both of them awake and entertained.

    With her mind on the time, her hand slipped and released the glass in her hand. Before she could utter her first syllable, the redhead caught the fallen item within the blink of an eye. Granting him a thankful nod, Tifa commented, “Those are some quick reflexes, Axel.”

    “I’m sure you’re just as quick.”

    “Hmm. Now what would make you say that?”

    A corner of his lips curled and he gestured to her hands.

    “Those hands don’t look so fragile and useless. And by the tone in your arms, I’d say you use those hands for something other than washing glasses. Your legs are not bad either,” he finished with a sly expression.

    Fighting back the heat in her cheeks, the brunette retaliated, “Is that so? Then would I be right by saying there’s more than one reason you’ve been hiding beneath that smock and hood, and it’s not because it's fashionable right now.”

    The aura in the room changed when the man discarded his chair and was hovering behind her, an arm blocking her exit on either side of her while his fingers locked to the edge of the counter. With a sigh, Tifa masked her alarm with confidence, and spun around to meet his bright, emerald eyes.

    “What do you suppose those reasons would be, gorgeous?”

    Granting him a smirk of her own, she waved a finger between them.

    “I’m not a woman who reveals her secrets so easily.”

    When his arm struck above her, her instincts kicked in and she dodged the threatening movement smoothly. Her forearms met one of his and their gazes locked again, both staring with fire and daring the other to make a move.

    “I have a knack for getting a woman to spill her secrets.”

    The man dropped and fanned a leg beneath her. Tifa jumped, about to lodge her own heel into his head before he caught her ankle within the knick of time. Clearly amused, Axel looked up at her, impressed rather than menacing. Warily, his free hand reached to the bottom of his smock and he pulled it over his head. As he threw it aside, Tifa noted his body was just as in shape as her own. By the broadness in his shoulders and his agility, this man was no amateur. His clothing was worn, as if it had survived a battle or two, but the creases in his collar were clear. If Tifa hadn’t recognized the Turks so clearly, she would have automatically assumed him to be one. But by the different embroidery in the threads and the symbols on his silver buttons, this suit was from elsewhere- some other company or organization she was not familiar with.

    Narrowing her eyes, she pursued. “Are you intimidated by me? Because you think I know too much?”

    Releasing her ankle to charge in front of her, and successfully straddle her against the wall, the redhead challenged, “Why? Am I threatening to you?”

    “Not at all. I’m more curious than threatened.”

    “Curious, huh? I don’t think you want to know where I’ve been.”

    While the distance between their faces shortened, Tifa’s stance eased. She could literally feel every word he spoke against her cheeks.

    “Believe me. I’m sure I’ve skimmed a few of those places before, or ones just like them.”

    “So, what is it that you want, miss bar owner? You want to know my secrets?”

    He gently pinched her chin between his fingertips, slowly and willingly being lured by this woman’s vivacious and bold attitude. It wasn’t very often he met a woman like her- matter of fact, Axel was sure this was the first time. She was smart. Strong. And kept him on his toes. He liked that- very much.

    Shrugging lightly, Tifa shook her head, “My bar’s policy is not to ask questions. I just serve the drinks as long as no one’s starting trouble.”

    “And if I do start trouble?”

    “Then I’m afraid I have to protect myself and my business.”

    With a huff, the man’s rigid stance deflated. The aura that was hostile moments ago dissipated.

    “So, what do you want, Tifa? Are you really going to let me waltz on out of here, knowing what you may or may not know?”

    The female fighter replied easily. “Sure, why not? But I do want to ask one question though?”

    Leaning a forearm beside her head, Axel nodded.

    “I’ll answer depending on the question, beautiful.”

    “What’s in the bag, Axel?”

    “The bag?”

    “The bag you haven’t let out of your sight for more than a second since you’ve arrived. What’s in it?”

    The redhead rolled back in laughter. Holding his stomach, he regained his composure when the martial artist folded her arms and waited. She was serious.

    “Out of all the questions in the world that you could ask right now, that’s it? What’s in the bag?”

    “Are you gonna tell me or what?”

    “You don’t want to know who I am- or where I’ve come from, but you want to know about a bag?”

    Suddenly, Tifa reached out to him. The traveler gave her a questioning brow but judging from her character, there was no reason to be cautious with her.

    “Can I see something?”

    Taking hold of his fingers, Tifa was thoughtful for a moment.

    “Even though I can’t see your arms, your hands suggest you’ve handled some heavy labor. The only elite corporations still sporting ironed collars are what’s left of Shinra and their dogs- the Turks. I know their uniforms, and yours doesn’t belong to them. With the condition of your hands combined with these clues- I’d say you’ve handled a weapon rather than work tools. And your eyes-”

    “Hmm?”

    “I’ve seen ‘em before. In people I know and in the mirror. You’re being haunted - but you’d rather smile instead.”

    “Life’s too short to dwell on the small things.”

    There was another pause between them. Their expressions became somewhat solemn as she released his fingers. They were warm and large in hers. Tifa convinced herself to let them go before she was tempted to hang onto them.

    Her voice sifting unintentionally from her lips as a whisper, she asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s in the bag?”

    For some reason, Axel’s voice simmered as well.

    “What’s in it for me, gorgeous?”

    The woman felt a pang surge through her - a pang of regret. Why did she have to whisper, anyway? Hearing him do the same, revived something inside her that wasn’t supposed to. The man’s voice was smooth, velvety and seemed to caress along her very thoughts when he spoke so low. By the smirk his teeth tamed by latching onto his bottom lip, she could tell that he intended for her to have that reaction. No longer being able to control her usual morals, she made her offer.

    “Still looking for a place to stay for the night? I can offer you a haircut?”

    Glancing upward at the long fiery strands beginning to scratch at his eyes, Axel readily agreed.

    To such a beautiful woman, how could he refuse?


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    “You’re clothes should be dry soon. At least now you won’t-”

    “-smell like wet dog?”

    Humming in good humor, she assured, “I was going to say, you won’t look like you just escaped an alleyway brawl, but if you’d like to put it like that…”

    They amused each other this way for some time. As the man felt her gentle digits sift through his wet strands of hair, tickling along the nape of his neck, it took every ounce of self-control to keep him from catapulting from that chair. The hot water from that shower must have made his skin increasingly sensitive. He could sense and feel every p***k of cool fingertips along his ears and his scalp.

    There was something motherly about her. No. Maybe not. He wouldn’t dare call it house wifely either, especially knowing she was a fighter. She was a good woman. A keeper. There was something prophetic about her words when she spoke them. He had a feeling he’d remember these conversations clearly, even if he never returned to this place.

    It was almost like he was comfortable with her. Sure, he didn’t know her from a hole in the wall, but she calmed him. She brought down his defenses, almost to a point where Axel internally wished his current life away so that he could stop time and fall asleep in this chair- her nails still drawing about his earlobes.

    It wasn’t until the last piece of hair fell along his bare toes and her concentrated stare on him lifted, that Axel opened his eyes.

    “Wow. So, that’s what happens when you’re hair’s shorter. You have natural spikes.”

    Weaving a hand through his shortened tresses, the man forced himself out of his lazy stupor to stand. Clothed only in a towel, he granted her a grateful smile. Tifa moved forward to brush the stray hairs from his shoulders, until the small hand towel she was stroking against his bare skin came in contact with a circular burn over his shoulder.

    Squinting, she questioned out loud.

    “A brand?”

    The brunette was so focused on the scar, that she hardly noticed Axel’s eyes on her. Suddenly, his large fingers covered hers, relaxing on his shoulder.

    “Still want to know, Tifa?”

    The woman pondered his question sincerely. It was probably dangerous enough that she spoke to this man, let alone allowed him upstairs, but would more information hurt? Did it really matter? Did she really care either way? Letting it sink in for a moment, Tifa looked up to him.

    “No,” she whispered. “I think I know all that matters.”

    Flexing the itch that was irritating his free hand, Axel took his chance, once that he might have been waiting to take ever since she offered him cookies.

    “You live alone?”

    Shaking her head, she answered. “I do. My best friend lives here, but he’s usually out on the road. Won’t be back for another few days.”

    Her thumb wiped the brand on his arm. Whether she did it on instinct or on purpose, the redhead couldn’t tell. But once the soft, careful touch blotted his raw flesh, the wanderer had thrown all care for logic out the window. Yanking her by the waist against his chest, Axel made a proposition, his forehead already sinking against hers and awaiting her permission.

    “I can tell you everything, but I’m better with my body than my words.”

    His handsome face being in such close proximity to hers caused Tifa to lose it. Dropping the hand towel from her hand to the floor, she captured his stubble-lined jaw and pulled him into a fervent kiss. Teeth grinding and tongues coiling deeply, a ragged moan vibrated between their lips when the woman felt Axel take a strong grip of her curvaceous thighs. The redhead was not shy when it came to what he wanted. Assertively thrusting his hips into hers, Tifa arched backwards, exposing her neck in which he quickly took into his hungry mouth.

    After a few moments of fingers feverishly drawing up spines and through hair, their bodies beckoned for a more comfortable setting. Axel lifted the woman up and into his arms, her legs clinging around his back, as he headed toward the only bedroom he saw open.

    Their conversation was over.


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    “Excuse me, miss. We’re sorry to bother you at such an early hour, but we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

    Tifa opened her door with groggy eyes and greeted her visitors with a yawn rather than a smile. Sagging against the doorframe, she eyed the two men on her doorstep. They were wearing the same suits as Axel had worn, except they were clean and polished down from the corner of their ties to the shine in their shoes.

    The man speaking had a solemn face, his silver hair climbed its way over an eye and although he attempted to look visibly friendly, he appeared bored rather than inviting. He was a lot better than his partner though, who was adorned with an x-shaped scar right smack in the middle of his face that said he’d seen better days. His ears were pointed and his eyes menacing. When she met his ultramarine stare, there was something cold in them. Just as she was thinking this, as if he were pleased with her negative impressions, his lips flared with a canine-like grin. Tifa decided she’d rather keep her gaze with the shorter one.

    “No problem. I should be up anyway. Just being lazy because of the all nighter I pulled.”

    Instead of giving some indication that he cared, or had some ounce of humor in him, he discarded her words to get to the point. Seemingly, he was a man that was hard to entertain in conversation.

    “My name is Ienzo and this here, is my colleague, Sai.”

    “Tifa. What can I do for you gentlemen?”

    Sai bared his fangs again, and the woman took effort to ignore him. Something about the elf eared being was making her nerves tick with anger. She smelled danger off of him like a malboro in the caves - poisonous and deadly.

    “We’re looking for another colleague of ours. Have you seen him?”

    Ienzo handed her a photo.

    It was Axel.

    --

    “Do you believe in other worlds, Tifa?”

    “What do you mean?” She whispered, nuzzling closer into his embrace, their naked flesh comforting their bodies in warmth.

    “Meaning places outside of this galaxy- beyond where any rocket can reach.”

    Digesting this thoughtfully, Tifa reminisced in all her past experiences, with Jenova coming from another planet and the mysteries of the life stream that she had once fell into. Linking her fingers with his, she nodded.

    “Yeah. I do.”

    The man reached over to the side of the bed and pulled the bag she was so curious about onto the sheets in front of them. Taking her into an arm again, the man leaned his chin over her hair as he pulled the strings to open it. It seemed normal so far. A few personal items; shampoo, a toothbrush, some clothing here and there, but then he fetched a small box - small enough to fit in her palm.

    “Asking me to marry you already, Axel?” She jested, since the box was similar to that of a jewelry case.

    He responded with a playful nibble to her earlobe before she shooed him away. “Look.”

    What she saw inside the box made her brown eyes widen.

    --

    “Hmm. Nope. Don’t think I’ve seen him before,” the martial artist replied casually, handing the photo back to Ienzo.

    “Are you sure? We have a few witnesses that say they’ve seen someone similar come into this bar last night.”

    “Is that so? Who do you guys work for again?”

    “We’re an international trading company. We’ve recently started business in Edge and we’re afraid our dear co-worker here might have missed a train during a recent transaction over in Rocket Town.”

    Trying to fight the one brow of hers that begged to lift in suspicion, Tifa nodded.

    “Right…”

    --

    “What is it, Axel?”

    “Well, lets just say it’s a piece of machinery. A key item to a discovery that shouldn’t be tapped into yet.”

    “Hmm. Let me guess - you’re not supposed to have this.”

    Grinning, the man guided her to look back at him. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he quipped, “It was about time I went for a career change, anyway.”

    Before she could get too wrapped up in his charm, his expression became serious again.

    “If they come to your door, be on your guard, okay?”

    Comforting his concern with a suggestive, but sincere kiss over his lips, the brunette bopped her head.

    “Don’t worry. I can handle my own.”

    --

    “Well, I had a lot of customers. This bar was open most of the night because of the storm. Even children were here. I’m a one-woman team so you could imagine what my workload was like. It’s hard to remember faces.”

    “I see,” Ienzo stated, most likely not convinced, but finding no reason to pursue the conversation or harass the woman. “Sorry to have disturbed you. If you remember anything, feel free to reach me.”

    Tifa took his card as they traded strained smiles.

    ‘Happy to be rid of you, too,’ she thought internally.

    “Have a pleasant day.”

    “Sure. You, too.”

    When she closed the door behind her, she fell against the wood in relief. Glancing over at the kitchen table, the brief memory of Axel’s strong arms encircling her waist as she made coffee was still fresh. Blushing, she could still feel the light wisp on his lips over the side of her neck.

    If they had any hopes of tracking down that man, the only trace of him was the mug he’d left on her counter. By now, he was long gone.


    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    “Coral on the rocks, miss Lockhart!”

    “Coming right up!”

    It was another one of those nights. The sun hadn’t shone in weeks and finally when the murky skies lifted, the bar owner hoped she would see emptier booths. Unfortunately, the bad weather had gained her a few new regulars so now that the sun was up, it was still just as crowded. Even the frigid weather didn’t slow them down.

    Rushing through the thin aisles of chairs and men, the woman quickly slid the foaming mugs across tabletops. They knew the rules here. Leave the cash under the drink before heading out the door. Leave without paying or an honest excuse, and you had better not return. Lucky for her, the customers never gave her a hard time. Whether it was out of respect or admiration, she didn’t know, and she didn’t care.

    Seventh Heaven’s policy is always the same. As long as you don’t start trouble, there won’t be any questions- just drinks.

    After swinging the last mug across the counter, Tifa yelled over the crowd.

    “All right, guys, I’m taking 30. If you need anything, you’re going to have to come to me.”

    The mass of customers chorused with a cheer before returning to their conversations. Plopping into the stool behind the bar, Tifa treated herself to a drink of her own. Her shoulders were sore and she wishfully noted that a bath would be great later. Just as she was about to close her eyes for a while, a distinct voice echoed in front of her.

    “This seat taken, beautiful?”

    Snapping an eye open, she instantly felt her heart radiate in relief and in happiness. He was safe and in one piece. Greeting the familiar wanderer, she passed the man a covert wink.

    “Of course not, but I’m afraid drinks aren’t on the house this time,” the brunette rested her elbows on the countertop, where his fingers lightly brushed over her forearm.

    A devious smirk stretched over his features, and with an indicative tone, he whispered between them.

    “Then, how about a haircut?”