It was actually pretty embarrassing, in Rude's opinion.

She was beautiful. And she was his type.

Well, Tifa Lockhart was every man's type. She had an interesting personality: fiery, brutally honest, kind, and almost motherly.

Any man would attest that this was a winning blend for a woman's personality.

Her dark, intelligent eyes and pretty, heart-shaped face didn't hurt either. Nor did her rather exuberant bustline, though only the drunkest of the drunk had the audacity to tell her that.

Usually, these men were the ones who Rude found lying on the curb next to the bar, clutching their newly-shattered crotches as they moaned in sheer agony. Rude walked interestedly by some of these men on his birthday.

Reno, the asshole, had brought him here, Seventh Heaven, because, well, Reno was Reno, and he really felt he had his partner's best interests at heart.

Rude decided to humor Reno for tonight. The guy had never quite let the fact slide that, on one cold, drunken evening, Rude had let slip that he was utterly and unequivocally enamored with Tifa Lockhart.

Reno had snorted heartily at this piece of information, pointing out, in less articulate terms that Tifa was highly desirable and anyways, "Ain't she Cloud's girl?"

Yeah, that was probably true, Rude thought blandly.

Though if Tifa had heard anyone, especially the loudmouthed redhead referring to her as someone's 'girl', that person would have joined the pained perverts lolling on the curb.

"Hey, guys!" Tifa waved merrily from behind the bar as Rude and Reno entered. Okay, Reno strutted and Rude shuffled sheepishly behind him.

"Hey, a drink for me and my friend."

"What'll you have, then?" she asked as she mixed another drink for a different customer.

"Mm, I am in a Bloody Mary mood," Reno told her. Rude rolled his eyes. Was this flirtation to get a rise out of the man in sunglasses? That did seem like Reno.

"And what would you like?" Tifa's silver earrings glinted in the dim light of the bar. Rude adjusted his glasses. What he really craved right now was a glass of red wine, something just a little sweet. If he ordered this, though, Reno would never let him hear the end of it. While this wouldn't have bothered Rude normally, he couldn't bear to be humiliated in front of good, honest Tifa.

Well, the woman did like honesty. Maybe.

"Sweeter red wine?" he asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"I've got just the thing for you," she told him happily, pulling a dusty bottle from under the counter.

"Oh, now that is a pussy drink, my man," Reno had already slurped down his alcohol, increasing his ability to be an asshole exponentially.

"And you'd know, wouldn't you?" Tifa smiled sweetly. Rude grinned to her appreciatively. What a wonderful woman.

Reno seemed at a loss for words (for once). He flushed angrily, until a pretty blond came trotting past. Reno wolf-whistled appreciatively, and the buxom woman amiably extended her middle finger.

Rude bit back a laugh this time. His partner did have the worst luck with women. As Reno immediately wandered off to find some poor thing to hit on, Rude slid his glasses down his nose, just a bit, so Tifa could see him roll his eyes. Tifa laughed too, a light, tinkling sound that sent an unexpected heat shooting down to the pit of his stomach.

"So what's the occasion?" she asked curiously. Tifa knew that she was probably a bit too curious, but she could always fight her way out of any sticky situation. She knew she wouldn't get into a fight just by talking to Rude, though. Rude seemed to have something against hitting women, or at least hitting Tifa. Besides, they were all friends now.

"Birthday," he spoke softly, idly sipping the fluted glass she had handed him.

"His or yours?" Tifa sipped a glass of water, her eyes bright as she licked her lips slightly. Rude swallowed nervously as he licked his own lips, desperately ignoring the wild thoughts chasing through his brain.

Those thoughts were sort of his own fault. Rude had held Tifa one time and one time alone, technically with neither knowledge nor consent from her.

It had honestly been a pretty bad situation. Rude and Reno had sought Tifa and Cloud at an abandoned cathedral where the blond whiner (as Rude referred to him diplomatically) made his home. Why he would live in ruins when she was perfectly willing to live with him was anybody's guess.

They were both lying in the grass, surrounded by lilies. Lilies, Rude speculated. Weren't those funeral flowers? Flowers meant to honor the dead? It was ironic that Tifa lay beautifully in the field of these slender, pale blossoms, appear to be dead. Rude had not let his panic show through to his partner. He was far more professional than that.

But inside, his heart was pounding in his chest and his eyes were narrowed as if in pain behind his enigmatic glasses. Rude's long, brusque fingers honestly shook as they felt her neck for a pulse.

He relaxed a small bit upon feeling the wavering, unsteady beat against his fingertips. Who—or what—could have done this to her? Rude's dark eyes quickly scanned her body, almost immediately found the round burns, two by two, scarring her. A taser. There were pronounced ones under her chin; it was clear that she had been electrocuted from that point several times.

Tortured.

Tifa had fought back, of course. Rude could tell by the freshly-splintered wood of the pews that a battle had ensued. But a large, limber man with a taser against a slender woman whose only weapons were her fists and her size 10 Converse All-Stars?

Of course she had been defeated. That was an unfair fight.

Rude really wanted to find this scumbag, he decided angrily as he gently scooped her up into his arms. He really wanted to pound this man's head into the pavement until he stopped moving, and then pound some more.

Right now, though, Tifa needed help. She needed to be carried to a safe place, back to the bar, presumably.

Ignoring his partner's whining at having to carry Cloud, Rude strode out the door, protectively cradling the slender form of his beloved in his built arms.

His calloused fingertips caught almost idly onto her hair. No one would ever touch her again, Rude decided almost viciously to himself.

Except me, he told himself quietly, planting a ghost of a kiss on the top of her head where she leaned against him.

-

Those thoughts hadn't helped with his infatuation with the dark-haired beauty, nor were they assisting now as she, with her back to him, bent down to put some glasses away.

What was it Reno had said the night of his admission? "She's a sweet piece of ass."

As crude as those words were, Rude couldn't agree more.

-