Quiet nights in bars meant that even if you didn't want to, you could always overhear someone else's conversation if they weren't smart enough to hold their voices down below the general background noise of the music and other people eating and drinking. This was one of those nights that would end up proving to Maiya that she probably should have just stayed home and downed her own liquor.
"High and mighty bastard, who does he think he is tossing people around like that." Was the first of the conversation she had heard and as she had connections all over Midgar, she wondered who it was that they were talking about.
"He's a hero, with a god damned complex." Was the next comment she heard over the general din of the place and her dark eyebrows started to draw closer together as she started to focus her hearing a little more in the direction she was hearing these comments from, hoping that she would hear more now that her interest had been captured. A slight smile for Tifa as the woman brought her drink she payed for it and was left alone to continue her eavesdropping.
"Even Cloud's better than that asshole, at least you can talk to him unless he's focused on his delivery or in a fight." Ahhh here came the comparisons. Everyone knew who Cloud Strife was, and everyone knew that while the man was a bit of a loner, he was still fairly easy going and approachable.
"How the hell does Cloud work with that bastard, last time someone didn't do what he told them, they nearly had their feet shot off with that damned hand canon of his." The pieces as to who they were talking about were quickly starting to fall into place. This was someone she knew as she only knew precious few people that could handle a gun that could be termed a "Hand Canon". The fact that he worked with Cloud, and seemingly on a regular basis narrowed it down to only one person. One of her better customers actually.
Picking up her drink she headed over to the table where she had identified the people who were talking and found that it was nearly filled to capacity with miners, grunts and other people that had been saved those few years ago when the WRO took over and helped various cities start rebuilding after the incident with Sephiroth's rebirth. "You boys got room for another in this conversation?" She asked, her drink identifying her as someone who had been here for a bit, and possibly sympathetic to their cause.
They gestured to the one empty seat that was left at the larger of Tifa's tables and as she sat down she decided to confirm her guess as to who they were talking about. "You talking about Vincent Valentine right?"
"Yeah, Mel over there," And the man pointed to another that was just as grungy as he was before continuing, "Nearly got his foot shot off earlier today when he didn't move out of the bastard's way."around the table there were nods of agreement and some mutterings of just how much of a prick the man was.
Raising an eyebrow she was surprised that this had happened, but knowing the man as she did wondered if there wasn't more to the tale than was immediately being told. This bore investigation. "So you boys were working, minding your own business when he just walks up to you and tells you to move. You disagree with the instruction based on the fact that you are working and he just ups and shoots at you?"
"We had sidewalk duty today, and were trying to get the cement poured and stabilized so we could open it back up tomorrow for use when he did that." The men were starting to calm themselves, realizing that they were in the presence of a woman, and one that would probably wouldn't take too kindly to them being the roughshod asses they normally were while they were drinking.
Thinking furiously over her day she realized that these were the idiots that had caused the damage to the front of her shop, causing her to close early so that she could clean up the broken glass and repair what had already been done for her other customers without interruption. "You wouldn't have happened to have had sidewalk duty over in the millinery area of town would you?"
She carefully held down her supreme irritation with the lugs with years of practice in not showing just how pissed off she was to her customers who were being idiots to her. She had just gotten the affirmative that they had started something they couldn't finish, and were now pissed off over it. "Do you boys know what I do for a living, or why a person like myself would even be in 7th Heaven in the middle of the week?"
Now that the men thought about it, she was dressed far too well to be a general laborer which meant she was a specialist of some sort. Middle of the week drinking binge for them meant that something had gone horribly wrong in their day and they needed to unwind. They weren't complete idiots, just not skilled enough to gain positions as specialists themselves. "What is it that you do ma'am?" Mel asked, the woman across from him was not a looker by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something about her that glowed and made you warm up to her while in her presence.
"I'm a seamstress and leather-worker. Professional Grand Master level." With this she started winding up as her anger started to get he better of her. "You guys got into an argument with a man who was likely on his way to my shop to pick up something he had left with me to be repaired and in your drunken stupid minds thought he was being rude. Instead of knocking you around and leaving you to the elements he took the easy route and tried to scare you sober and away so that he could continue on unmolested. You couldn't leave it be and took even more offense and forced him to toss you lot around like a bunch of rocks. He didn't mean for it to happen, and ultimately I blame you for this, but your fight with him shattered the front window of my storefront. You never came in to apologize for the mess you made, or even to help clean it up. I now have a large board in front of my store where glass should be to keep the elements and stupid people out. I never have seen Vincent ever be late to pick up anything he's left with me in the entire time he's used my services. I would tell him when the repairs or the new items he'd request would be done and he would be there. You have not only made him late, but he's probably hunting you down now that he's seen the damage to my shop to have you taken in for damage to private property in your stupid vendetta."
"Now hold on there woman, Why should we be the only ones that have to apologize for that mess? Takes two to start a fight you know." The men were looking very angry and while they were still in their seats, Maiya knew that she was pushing buttons, still, there was the larger, much angrier part of her that didn't care.
Looking around the table with anger flashing in her blue gray eyes she explained. "You won't be the only ones apologizing. I know that as soon as I open up tomorrow morning, hangover or no, Vincent will be there to pick up his things, and he will offer his apologies without me saying a word about it. The man's a gentleman, kind to those in need, apologetic to those he's wronged. Every item he's brought to me for repairs or to have me make for him has a story about him to be told. I listen and read those stories like most would read a book. I do that with everything brought to me. The work clothes of the honest hard laborer who is feeding his family. The clothes of the soldier that fights to keep the peace and to help rebuild what was once lost. The poor, sick, loved and dying all have stories to tell through their clothing, and I help them where I can to ensure they have those clothes longer."
The men around the table were starting to realize that this was indeed a craft mistress talking, and that this was one argument that they weren't going to win. "So why does he chose your store to have his things fixed instead of so many other craft masters that are here in town?"
"Because she can read my story, and does not judge me for the choices I've made." The soft deadly calm voice from the corner behind Maiya and out of the shadows Vincent's form appeared. "I had stopped by your shop later this evening to pay for the damages to your shop and pick up my things. You weren't there, so I asked around. It wasn't too hard to find you here, and your arguments have been refreshing. Thank you." Vincent looked down at the shorter woman as she stood and made a slight bow, as she would to any of her customers.
Looking around the table, her posture and eyes screamed 'See! This man is nothing like you think.' before she turned back to Vincent. "I had thought that I might see you here, as Tifa is one of your friends, so I brought it with me."
Walking back over to her table she picked up a thick paper wrapped parcel that had stayed unmolested in her time visiting the workers and with a slight smile that she always had for her customers, especially her frequent ones, she handed it over to the taller man. His clawed gauntlet carefully untied the twine she normally sealed her parcels with and as the paper fell away everyone in the bar could see something in black that was obviously new.
"Excellent work, as always." Was all he said, knowing that she would not accept any more than that as praise for her work, especially after all the treks he had made and the ones that ended in her shop. "Here, this should be enough to replace your storefront window, and pay for your work." A small wallet was brought out and handed over to the woman who accepted it and did a swift count of its contents.
"More than enough, come by tomorrow morning and I will give you your change." A slight bow from the woman, and a nod of Vincent's head closed the deal. It was late, and now that she had vented her anger some, she now felt the normal tired creeping up on her. "Tifa, I'm leaving for the night. I'll catch up with you another time."
The woman waved from the bar where she was serving a new group of people that had come in. Most of the regulars didn't bother to stare at Vincent. They knew who he was in relation to the bar owner and so it was not unusual to them that he was here. Those that weren't as familiar with the group looked at the taller man before returning to their drinks. A fight had been brewing but had been brought to a short halt by his appearance, that they didn't have to leave because the bar closed for repairs was all they cared about.
The next morning there was a solid rapping on her store front door long before she was due to open. Wondering just who would have the gall to come this early she finished getting dressed before going down the stairs out of her loft apartment and answered the door. To her great surprise there were all of the men that had been at the table last night as she had vented about their idiocy, everyone of them with their hats in their hands. "Craft Mistress Maiya, we've come to apologize, and to help replace your storefront window." Mel spoke up from his place at the front of the pack.
Raising an eyebrow Maiya wondered how they had gone from drunk and stupid to humbled so quickly, though she had a rather good idea. "How are you going to do that, I haven't even ordered the window glass yet."
"This was delivered this morning, we're going to help install it for you." looking around the corner she saw a security frame outside her door holding a very large pane of glass. As she cracked the boards that were preventing damage to the middle she saw that it was already lettered in the most beautiful red and gold script lettering she had wanted but could never afford before.
Blinking, with a hint of tears in her eyes she looked at the men before her. "Damage this and you'll wish I had sicced Vincent on you. I'm going back upstairs to finish my morning and I hope to see you all hard at work when I come back down." She wasn't truly angry with the men anymore. They had apologized and had even come to help replace the glass that had been shattered the day before. This had atoned for their crimes and she was willing to let it go the moment they were done and the work confirmed.
Once she was up in her apartment she pulled out a project she had been working on for months. This was something no one knew of and was going to be a special gift. Now it had even more meaning as she knew somehow that Vincent had gotten the glass makers to rush the order on the lettering. Store front window glass was common enough, but it was the cutting to size, and lettering that made orders take as long as they did. Hopefully this gift would be accepted as a thanks for the favor done.