After Hours
By Blood-Smeared Shuriken
Summary: An insufferably short RenoxTifa fanfic. Reno turns up at 7th Heaven after hours.
Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII, I never have, and my chances of doing so in the future are approximately the same as a snowman living a long, fulfilled life in Hawaii.
It was late, very late, and I'd just closed the bar when he turned up. Artificial light glinted off incredibly messy red hair, aqua eyes flicked to my face as he flashed me a disarming grin that was just… so… irritating. "Hey, Lockheart," he said cheerfully. "Could I get a beer?"
I felt the familiar exasperation with the redhead welling up. "The bar is closed, Reno," I said flatly. "Go find somewhere else to get plastered."
His grin only widened. "Aw, c'mon, Lockheart. For old times' sake?" He gave me the puppy dog eyes. I hate it when he does that. "Gods almighty," I said under my breath, rolling my eyes. "Alright, I'll get you a drink. But you can only stay for as long as it takes me to clean up. Then you're out of here."
The puppy dog look vanished immediately, he gave me his usual cocky grin, sauntering over to the bar and grabbing a bottle of his favourite brand of beer. He seated himself on one of the stools, opening the bottle and taking a long pull. I ignored him, as best I could, while I moved around the bar, putting the chairs up on the tables and then sweeping the floor. I could feel his eyes on me as he finished his first beer and started on a second. I looked around the bar, making sure everything was tidy, then I turned and glared at the infuriating assassin sitting at my bar, staring at me with a slight smirk on his face.
"Alright, I'm done. Clear out, Reno." I put my hands on my hips. He smiled and finished his beer, carefully placing the two bottles on the bar, side by side, next to the money for the two drinks, plus tip. He rose to his feet with that lazy elegance he sometimes had, and moved towards the door.
As he passed me, he paused, reaching out and tucking a lock of dark hair behind me ear. I jumped at the touch, startled, and more than a little surprised. My shock kicked up a notch as he leant down and touched his lips lightly to my cheek. "'Night, Tifa," I heard him murmur in my ear. "Thanks for the beer."
The next second he was gone, out the door and into the night, leaving me standing there with my fingers on my suddenly too-warm cheek and a startled expression on my face.