For seventhe for the FF Kiss Battle 2016 with the prompt: A Turk and a Giant Sword walk into a bar.
"So a Turk and a Giant Sword walk into a bar."
She had heard this one before, but it made no difference. Every time Reno insisted on reciting the poorly-timed joke, he placed a new spin on it, yet the left the ending untouched. And Tifa knew better than to tell him to shut up; the five empty bottles before him were proof of why his already smart mouth proceeded to ramble nonstop. Not like he needed alcohol to loosen his lips.
So she cast her eyes elsewhere and tried hard not to roll them. The poor sobs next to Reno listened. For how long, she didn't know. So long as it didn't end up in a bar fight like the last one.
"Wait wait," one of the guys said, holding his hand up. "The hell do you mean by a Giant Sword?"
Reno waved his hand at the man. "Just like that."
"Like what?"
"A Giant Sword!"
"Is it a monster? Or an actual giant weapon thing?"
Tifa bit back a grin. This proved to be more amusing than she thought.
Reno pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Stop thinking into it! Just let me finish!" He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. "Like I was a saying, a Turk and a Giant Sword—"
"It's a dick joke, isn't it?"
And that was when Rude spat out his drink.
Tifa almost forgot Rude accompanied his friend until he sprayed a mix of rum and tonic all over her top. Quiet as ever, though when he wished to make his presence known, he never did so quietly. Now was no exception. Had it been a few years ago, Tifa wouldn't have thought twice and clocked him straight in the face. But times changed; the world flirted with death and they remained in the ruins. In turn, adversaries turned into acquaintances. Maybe more so.
Which was why Tifa restrained herself from erupting into a fit of giggles. Not because of the alcohol soaking into her white top, but because of the look cemented in Rude's face. Peeking over the top of his sunglasses, he gazed upon Tifa as if he had awoken an ancient dragon from its slumber. Despite being her equal in prowess, he never dared to lift a finger to Tifa. Ever.
Of course, the men Reno attempted to entertain broke out into laughter, following up with a few lewd comments in regards to Rude's aim. Such remarks left Tifa narrowing her eyes onto the group. The whole while, Reno groaned over once again having to start his joke over from the top. And still failing.
"Tifa," Rude spoke. Always soft, always sincere. "Please, I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," Tifa said with a forced smile. "I just need to change out of it and into something... well, probably drier."
As she shuffled towards the edge of the bar, one of the men from Reno's audience called out to her. "Ooooh, what's the matter, sweetheart?! You can change right here!"
"Keep it up," Tifa spat out and shot a glare over her shoulder, "and your next drinks will be doubled in price. And that's if I decided to let you stay here."
There might have been more yelled in her direction, but Tifa paid little attention to the racket. The rest of the bar thrummed with life, never flinching over the altercation at the bar. It was enough of a distraction for her to slip away for five minutes to run to her apartment upstairs and change. The bar might have been empty with no one to refill drinks, but with Reno and Rude front and center—well, okay, maybe just Rude—he doubted anyone would start another commotion with them around.
In a sense, it was silly to think of the two former Turks in good faith. Rude more so than Reno. Why exactly, even Tifa didn't want to admit. Reno and Rude were joined at the hip, even in the wake of destruction. While Reno might have been the bigger troublemaker of the duo, his boisterous attitude was tolerable when Rude lingered in behind. He shed his Turk uniform ages ago, but it didn't stop him from donning sophisticated suit and tie combinations.
If only he stopped insisting on wearing those sunglasses blocking out his eyes.
Why am I thinking about this? Tifa wondered while rummaging through her room. He's just another customer. Nothing more or less, right? And a loyal customer at that. She paused, blushed, and bit her lip. I don't think I've ever seen him so flustered before. Her lips quirked up. I think I like him like that.
Finally settling on a new top, Tifa stripped herself of the alcohol-soaked one to slip on a fresh tank top. She shuffled to her mirror, the sounds of the bar below vibrating against her feet. After fussing with her hair, she paused and stared herself in the eye.
I wonder if he likes me like this.
She laughed off the idea. Now wasn't the time to litter her head with meaningless musings. Fluffing out her hair once more, Tifa hurried back downstairs to return to her bartending duties.
Rude and Reno sat at their usual spot, though the group beside Reno were missing. She thought nothing of it until Reno whistled sharply.
"Damn, girl, you missed a good one."
Tifa blinked. "Excuse me?"
"The minute you booked it out to change or whatever?" He jerked a thumb in Rude's direction, or tried to, considering the lack of sobriety. "Tough guy over here got up and showed them a thing or two!"
Her eyes widened. Tifa convinced herself the burning on her face was anything but blush. Looking to Rude, he sat in silence, gloved hands interlaced and propped onto the countertop.
"Punched a bunch of them," Reno continued with an evident slur, "and they tried to fight back, but Rude got them good! Didn't you?!" Reno smacked him on the back, leaving the latter to readjust his sunglasses thrown askew. "Shit, I didn't even have to jump in!" And then Reno scowled. "But damnit, Rude! I never got to finish my joke!"
Rude shrugged. "It was never a good one, anyways."
"What?!"
The two bickered for a moment—more like Reno yelled into Rude's ear—before calming down. Tifa tended to a few customers in that time and once the duo's chatter died out, she cast her eyes back to them. Reno had been cut off twenty minutes ago—like he'd remember—but Rude's glass sat empty. Without a second thought, she whipped together his usual and presented a fresh glass for him.
Rude peered down at the drink, then back to Tifa. "What's this?"
"A drink," she said with an extra bounce in her voice. "On the house."
While Rude raised an eyebrow, Reno piped in. "Hey. Hey! Why don't I get one?!"
"Reno," Tifa snapped back, almost motherly, "the day I give you a free drink will be when the world is ending again." Before he could retort, she returned her attention to Rude. "Consider it a thank you for taking care of the garbage."
Rude shook his head. "You didn't have to do this."
"No, I didn't, and neither did you for that matter." Tifa bent at the hip and tried to catch his eyes past his shades. "I appreciate it, Rude."
A gloved finger traced the edge of the new glass. After a pause, he gripped the glass to bring it close to his lips. "I didn't appreciate what they said about you."
He drank and she chewed her lower lip. On his third gulp, Tifa leaned in further and pressed her lips into his cheek.
She lingered there, her lips hovering above his skin. He paused before turning to catch her eye. It was hard not to smile when she caught the rich color of his irises up close. Tifa waited for him to ask what she was doing, just as he had with the drink. He never did. It sent her heart into a wild disarray.
"Wait, did I just miss something?"
Thankfully, Reno was slow on the upkeep, too busy flirting with a few girls down the bar the whole while. By the time Tifa stood upright again, he swiveled in his seat to find the two eyeing one another with an added layer of tension.
Before Tifa could respond, Rude jumped in. "Nothing."
"Pfff, doubt that." Reno opened his mouth again, only to silence himself when two ladies approached the bar to occupy the seats beside him.
Tifa couldn't decide whether to feel sorry for the ladies or for Reno.
He grinned, exchanged some idle chat, and then dove in head first. "So, a Turk and a Giant Sword—"
"Please, mister, I'm not interested. I'm on a date with my girlfriend."
That time, Tifa didn't restrain herself from laughing.