Title: Cleaning Up
Fandom: Final Fantasy: Advent Children
Characters: Cloud, Tifa, OCs
Prompt: 043 - Square
Word Count: 839
Date finished: 05/17/2006
Rating: PG
Summary: Tifa calls Cloud for a little help cleaning out her bar.
Author's Notes: When I asked people what they thought of when they heard the word "Square", I got so many different answers it wasn't funny. So I looked it up online. Hense the title. This is one of the more tenuous links to the prompt.
Also, please keep in mind that I had no idea when Cloud had left or anything when I wrote this, so it's wrong. Sorry.
Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Square Enix and Sony Pictures as far as I know.

"Cloud, if you're close to Edge, will you please stop in?"

He hadn't even heard his phone ring. Behind Tifa's voice on the message, he could hear crashes, thuds, shouts in an unfamiliar voice, and what sounded like the tinkling of broken glass. The message cut off abruptly.

Cloud's eyes narrowed as he put the phone away again, wincing at the pain in his arm. It didn't sound good; he wished he'd heard the phone, but then he knew he wouldn't have picked up anyway. He paused only long enough to figure out what he had left to do, and decided it could wait.

He turned for home.

The street outside the bar was quiet - more than quiet, it was empty. Cloud took two of his blades from Fenrir, slipping them into the harness on his back, then took a third in hand. Overkill? Maybe, but he wanted to be prepared. There wasn't much Tifa couldn't handle on her own. He walked into the bar and paused just inside the door.

Tifa was penned in behind the bar by six hulking guys, pink spots of anger in her cheeks. The men leaned against the bar, looking drunk and each of them reaching for her, or speaking to or about her in a way that made Cloud's jaw clench. The rest of the bar was empty and in disorder; chairs and tables lay strewn across the floor.

The sword was a welcome weight in his hand; his vision narrowed like it hadn't since his last battle with Sephiroth. He strode toward the bar, watching the men clustered there.

Tifa caught sight of him first, and a smile started to grow on her face. "I'm sorry, boys," she said, a hard edge to her voice, "but you're about to be shown the door."

One of them, the one blocking her way out, snorted. "By whom?"

"By me," Cloud growled. "You okay?" He didn't take his eyes off the men, who turned lazily to face him.

"So far, so good," Tifa answered.

"Who are you?" the same guy demanded.

"I'm the delivery boy," Cloud said evenly, and didn't flinch as they all roared with laughter.

"Delivery boy?" the man asked in derision as his men fanned out around Cloud. "What are you doing with that sword?"

Cloud spun, his sword blocking the shots fired by the two men who had tried to flank him. With a second flick of his sword, he disarmed them, their guns flying out of reach. He turned back. "Cleaning up," he answered. "Why don't you leave?"

The man pushed away from the bar. "You were SOLDIER?" he asked.

"Close enough," Cloud said.

The other man's smile broadened. "Good."

That was not good, Cloud thought, but then Tifa came from behind the bar, slamming into one of the toughs even as the leader went for Cloud. She was as deadly as he was, in her own way, and people only ever overlooked that once.

The fight was short; at the end of it, Cloud stood over the man, sword pointed at his throat, eyes narrowed. "I suggest you leave," he said softly. "And I suggest you don't come back."

The man snorted. "Not until I get her." His chin jerked in what Cloud guessed was Tifa's direction.

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "What, too scared to take her on your own?" he taunted.

Tifa touched his covered arm, and he hid a wince as fire ran up it. It could have distracted him, if he'd let it, but he refused to. "Get out, and don't come back," she said flatly, and gestured behind Cloud. "And take the riff raff with you."

The man snorted. "She yours?" he asked, eyeing Cloud.

"She's hers," Cloud said flatly. "She stays that way as long as she wants it."

He backed off to give the man enough room to get up, and he did. "Move it!" he snarled to the rest of his men, and they all dragged themselves out the door.

Cloud took a deep breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said. "Thank you. They didn't give me time to do anything."

He slipped the part of his sword he was holding into the harness on his back. "Want some help cleaning up?"

She smiled. "Please."

It didn't take them long; setting tables and chairs to rights, sweeping up the broken glass, and squaring everything else away was quickly done, and then Tifa leaned against the bar and sighed. "Drink?" she asked.

"Thanks, but I've still got a couple deliveries to make. You'll be okay?"

Tifa smiled, but it was a sad smile, and he pretended he didn't see it. "I'll be fine. See you tonight?"

He shrugged. "I hope so."

He pretended not to see the pain in her eyes as he left. Storing the sword in Fenrir again, he mounted, but didn't move for a while, riding out the pain in his left arm. When that faded, he left again.

He didn't see her looking out, watching him leave.

Advent Children Table | Challenge Main

Home | Stories | Links | Contact me