Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. If I did, I wouldn't be writing a fanfic! Don't get your panties all in a bunch about me borrowing the characters and messing around with them either. I'll put 'em back when I'm done with them. Honest.

Title: Her Constant

By: DragonChaos

Summary: In the wake of a broken relationship, Tifa finds comfort in the man who is her constant.

Observations, Whiskey, and Women:

He'd always observed her from afar, that Tifa Lockheart. He observed her long dark hair, her crimson eyes, her upbeat personality. He also observed that she was totally head over heels in love with a man whose heart belonged to a dead woman. Now, as he sat on his barstool, sipping a glass of whiskey, Cid Highwind observed her as she went about making drinks for her customers. She was wearing a bright smile, a gray tank top, and a pair of tight black pants as she shook a tumbler vigorously, winking at a patron who sat in front of her who was obviously engaging her in a conversation. She was always so animated.

It was a shame that Strife was so fixated on someone who was inanimate.

Well, a shame for Strife, anyway.

He'd started frequenting her bar, Seventh Heaven, after it was rebuilt in New Midgar some months after Meteor. When he'd returned to his home in Rocket Town, Cid had expected to find Shera there waiting for him, but instead he found a note that read,

"My Dearest Captain,

Soon after you left for the Crater, I thought about what you said about finding yourself, how you finally knew where you belonged. I was so happy for you…Happy that you were happy. However, I now realize that I don't really know where I belong. I've been living my life for someone else for so long, I'd forgotten what it meant to live for me.

Please understand…I need to find myself. I don't blame you or hold any grudges, and Captain, don't you dare go blaming or damning yourself for anything that's happened these past few years. If it's one thing the Planet's recent events have taught me, it's that life's too short to dwell on the misgivings of the past.

I forgave you a long time ago, so please forgive me now and let me go figure out where I belong.

Shera"

Once his initial shock and anger had been drained away by several bottles of booze, he'd realized she had a point. She had been living for someone else. For him. More than a little downcast, his hopes of a relationship with her tossed down the drain; he sought solace in his friends' company.

And they were never far from Seventh Heaven. It wasn't uncommon to see Barret Wallace lumbering into the tavern, his loud voice booming greetings towards the boxer barmaid as he took a seat next to Cid. Nor was it uncommon to see Yuffie bounding about energetically and "Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk"ing at the local patrons. The young, hyper ninja really couldn't hold her liquor, but it did nothing to stop her kleptomaniac hands from going about their business while she chattered nonstop about almost nothing.

And if Yuffie was around, it was all but guaranteed that a tall, dark, and looming man with red eyes, ebony hair, and a blood red cloak would be as well. Valentine and Yuffie; the thought still made Highwind shudder. But hey, whatever makes ya happy, right? It wasn't that he disliked Valentine…It's just that…Shit, the guy could turn into monsters, which brings in all kinds of possibilities. Another shudder.

Reeve would even show up when his business with rebuilding New Midgar would allow it. He'd come swaggering in, his dark hair slicked back and pulled into a ponytail, his clean, suave suit without wrinkles, his voice smooth as he spoke with Tifa or someone else he recognized. Cid had to admit, he sort of liked the guy. After all, he wanted to restart the Space Program. For Cid, that officially put Reeve in his book of "cool".

Red would show up from time to time, too, though not as often as the others due to the fact that he didn't imbibe alcohol. He would just come around for social visits. Highwind enjoyed the four-legged wolf-tiger's company, despite appearances. Besides, he was always able to make Tifa smile, and for him, that made it all worth it. Plus, it was kind of hard to not respect the most honorable and intelligent of their group. Even if he was still really easy to tease.

Seventh Heaven, in short, was a hang out for the Heroes of the Planet. And business was booming because of it.

Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of one of them. It helped that the bar mistress was herself a Hero.

Tonight, however, Cid and Tifa were the only Heroes to grace Seventh Heaven with their presence, and he sat at his usual corner at the bar, a cigarette dangling from his lips, nursing his drink and observing the tavern through the smoky haze.

If there was one Hero who didn't frequent the bar, but should do so more often than the others, was Strife.

Boy, did Spike live up to his name. He caused strife in just about all of his former companion's lives. Even Tifa. Especially Tifa.

Cid sighed heavily and took a long drag on his cigarette, then regarded the little stick of nicotine carefully as he held it between his index and middle finger.

He really should probably quit this shit. Oh well. What's an old guy to do? Cid shook his head. He wasn't that old. No matter what that little annoying ninja tried to tell him.

Tifa's laughter flitted to him over the din of the noisy patrons. It was a beautiful sound, one he'd grown accustomed to hearing these past few months.

Their friendship required few words. Occasionally she'd look over at him with her soulful garnet eyes and smile, as if she knew at right that second, he needed a smile to brighten his thoughts. He thought she might have been telepathic, sensing whenever his thoughts were turning dark and brooding. Or she might just be a good judge of body language. Whatever it was, it was almost scary.

Cid knew she'd been hurt badly over what had happened between her and Cloud. They had a bit of a rocky relationship before he up and decided he needed to search for the Lifestream…or more particularly, Aeris. That was before construction had been finished on Seventh Heaven.

When Cid had first started coming here, he'd notice how she seemed strained, how she'd stare out of a window, her eyes sad and her expression pained. But then she'd quickly recover and the hurt expression would vanish, and he'd almost think he'd been imagining things. She never really talked about it, at least not with him, although he got tidbits of what happened from Yuffie.

It wasn't long before he decided Tifa needed some sort of constant in her life. Even if that constant was just an old pilot without a ship, sitting in a corner of her bar sipping on a whiskey and pulling drags on a cigarette, she needed it.

It had been almost a year since Strife left. No word of him reached any of the people he used to call "friends". Cid knew he wasn't dead, though. Spiky was too stubborn for that. Over time, Tifa had become more herself again, upbeat, happy-go-lucky, smiling for almost no reason at all. And yet, Cid would still see her get that faraway look. He knew the pain may have lessened over time, but she definitely hadn't forgotten it.

"Care for another drink, Highwind?" Cid looked up, somewhat startled. She was there, poised with a bottle of whiskey, ready to pour it into his glass. He looked down and suddenly realized he hadn't even noticed that his glass was empty.

Like he said…She was almost fuckin' scary.

"Love one, Lockheart." He nudged his glass closer to her, a grin playing over his lips when he saw her smirk at his delayed response. She poured the amber liquid with an elegant grace, her capable hands smoothly corking the bottle back up and spinning it about before deftly placing back on the shelf behind her. He expected her to grin and saunter away, like she always did, but this time, she lingered, her gaze flitting down the line of customers sitting at the bar before it settled on him. She leaned her elbows on the bar for support, her arms folded over one another. "Somethin' on your mind, Teef?"

"Not really," she said slowly. "How're things, Cid?" He took a long drink from his fresh whiskey before he replied.

"Okay, I s'pose," he drawled. She didn't often ask such open-ended questions like that. Something was up. "You?" Her expression was one of schooled indifference. One he saw through almost immediately.

"Not bad, business is good…" She trailed off, and her lower lip was captured by her teeth and she glanced down at her hands, then back up at him. Cid cocked his head slightly, a silent gesture for her to continue. "Can we talk later?" He usually hung around after she closed up shop anyway, so he wondered why in the name of the Planet she felt the need to ask.

"Yeah, sure." He waved his gloved hand as if to gesticulate that he expected to do that anyway, but apparently she took it as a sign of him waving her off. She pulled back and stood up straight, gave him a somewhat nervous smile, and walked back to refresh the drinks of some rowdy customers who were banging their mugs on their table. He watched her retreating form in bewilderment, as if staring at her back (or backside if he was really being honest with himself) would help him understand what was going on with her.

Cid Highwind sighed again and adjusted his goggles.

"Women."

Eavesdropping, Smoke, and Scruffy Chins:

As she flipped the deadbolt and turned off the neon sign that read "Seventh Heaven", Tifa noticed her hand was shaking. Briefly, she wondered why. And then it came back to her, the conversation she had overheard from that rowdy bunch that just kept getting rowdier as the hours had lingered on.

"I saw that guy with the spiky blonde hair and huge sword walkin' through Kalm the other day," the larger man related to his smaller, pudgier companion.

"Oh! You mean that Mr. Strife?" The look of eager drunken excitement on the man's chubby face normally would have made Tifa laugh if the subject hadn't struck such a nerve; instead it made her stand there stupidly holding a tankard while the larger man finished his story.

"Yeah, that's the guy! I didn't say nothin' to 'im since he seemed like he was goin' somewhere with a purpose, if ya know what I mean," he nudged the smaller man congenially in the ribs. "He looked like he was on some sorta mission."

After that, Tifa stopped listening to them. She let out a sigh of relief when Cid Highwind showed up a few minutes later, at his usual time, taking his usual seat and ordering his usual drink. She was insane to fear that he would suddenly pick tonight to break his clockwork habit of coming to Seventh Heaven, and she instantly berated herself for even thinking such a silly thought.

Speaking of Cid Highwind…

He was regarding her with his cool blue gaze, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips, watching her lock and close up shop for the night. Usually if someone stared at her like that, Tifa felt uncomfortable, like she was being appraised, judged. But there was something…so unobtrusive about the pilot that she didn't feel that familiar pinprick of the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. He was wearing his usual faded blue pilot jacket with many pockets over a stained, old, used-to-be white long sleeve shirt, and dark gray cargo pants. Old Smokey, as she liked to call him, didn't talk to her much during business hours. Their conversations were usually reserved for when the last drunk had finally gone home. Even if they didn't talk much then, either, she still found his presence comforting.

If it's one thing Tifa Lockheart hated, it was being alone.

She'd heard from Barret about what had happened between Cid and Shera. Or rather, what didn't happen. She felt sorry for him, but she also understood Shera's need to leave. When Tifa first met Cid back when they originally asked to borrow the Tiny Bronco, she'd been appalled by the way he treated her. He may have changed over the past few years for the better, but he was still as foul-mouthed and cynical as ever.

She was certain they loved each other, but there seemed to be a lack of respect, self-respect, to be more specific. Both sides thought they didn't deserve the other. She could also see how Shera would be confused about herself after giving up so much for someone else. There comes a time in someone's life when they have to live for themselves, and Tifa knew that Cid had begrudgingly accepted that.

Tifa also knew that Highwind was a proud man and wouldn't accept her pity. So instead of giving him her sympathy verbally, she gave it to him through smiles and little gestures of friendship.

They'd never really been that close when they'd been trying to save the Planet from Sephiroth, never really talking or spending extra time with each other. She originally thought that he was crass, rude, foul-mouthed, and grumpy.

Who was she kidding? She still thought of him that way.

Now, however, her perspective was different. He'd been there for her in his own way, never really leaving, never really questioning her about anything. That's what she appreciated about him most. He didn't question her about what happened with Cloud.

She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of the begotten ex-SOLDIER.

She'd played the scene over and over in her mind so many times, it was almost like it didn't happen, like it was a scene from some movie.

"Tifa, I'm sorry, but…" Cloud ran a hand through his spiky yellow hair, making it stand up even more, if that was possible.

"But?" Tifa questioned, though she had a pretty good idea where this was going.

"I never wanted to hurt you Tifa…"

"But here you are, doing it anyway," she said bitterly, tears glistening in her garnet eyes. "I still don't understand why you have to leave…"

"I just have to, Tifa. It's something I gotta do. I…have to go to the Promised Land."

"You're not going to the Promised Land! You're going to her!" The tears were flowing freely now, and he moved to comfort her, only to have her shove him backwards, towards the door. "NO! Don't you dare touch me! Just get out! Go back to your precious Aeris!" She was losing control, her need to pummel something, anything, was rising. He seemed to realize that if he didn't leave soon, he would be the one getting pummeled. "Get out!" She raised her arm and pointed out to the darkness beyond the open door.

"I'm sorry, Tifa." And with that, he was gone.

She finished putting some chairs upside-down on the tables and walked over to a padded booth, gesturing for Highwind to join her. He nodded, put out his cigarette, scrunching its ashes in an ashtray, and sauntered over, his boots clomping heavily on the wooden floor. He slid into the seat across from her and leaned his back up against the wall, putting his long legs up on the seat and crossing them at the ankles. He folded his lean, muscled arms across his chest and looked at her, an unspoken question in his eyes.

It's funny; they say he's not that patient. Tifa realized a while ago that he is very patient, as long as he knows that he'll eventually get something for his patience.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes while she worked up the courage to bring up the subject of a completely different blonde. She stared at her hands while she wrenched them in her lap, slowly cracking her knuckles one by one.

"I got news about Cloud today," she said suddenly, not looking up from her hands. If she had, she would have seen Cid's surprised expression, his face resembling a goldfish's.

"Oh?" Was all he said.

"Yeah…" Silence. Tifa contemplated just telling him what she had heard and not saying anything more, but talking with Cid was easy, even with a subject as sore as this one. He wasn't one to judge a person by what they said, but more on how they acted. It was a quality she admired in him.

"O…kay…" He brought her back to the conversation they…weren't…having. She drew a deep breath, gathering her strength.

"Apparently, from what I heard tonight, he was in Kalm a few days ago." She finally looked up at him and discovered his ice blue eyes, now resembling dark blue pools in the dim lights of the tavern, regarding her with keen interest.

"It was nice of him to stop by and say hi, wasn't it?" Cid said with a snort. Funny, those were her thoughts exactly.

"Yup." She looked out the window into the darkened world beyond, her gaze not really settling on anything. She just stared out into the blackness. "You would think he would at least…" Her voice trembled slightly and she caught her lower lip between her teeth, fighting to keep her emotions under control. Her gaze dropped once again to her hands, trying to hide the tears that were starting to form.

"You'd think that, wouldn't ya?" He knew what she was trying to say and saved her from having to finish her thought. She smiled gratefully at him, if only briefly, bringing her hands up to rest on the table. "When are you…" She heard him sigh heavily, his searching gaze never leaving her face. "When are you gonna stop lettin' that goddamn spiky-haired punk get to ya like that, Teef?" She visibly tensed at his words, her teeth worrying her lower lip to the point of it almost bleeding. That was Highwind for you, direct and to the point. He adjusted his goggles before his arm returned to its former position on his chest. "I mean, honestly? The guy's a fuckin' whack-job if he walked away from…someone like you."

"He is NOT a whack-job." Now it was her turn to fold her arms over her chest as her crimson eyes burned into his icy ones. "He's just…finding himself." Cid laughed abruptly, but stopped suddenly as he twisted himself in the seat so he faced her directly, leaning on his arms so he could put his face closer to her.

"Finding himself?" His tone was incredulous. "Shit. Seems that's what everyone's doin' these days. Maybe Spike should form some sorta fuckin' club," he huffed, his tone turned bitter. He pulled back, leaning heavily against the seat. "He's not really tryin' to 'find himself' anyway, Lockheart, he's tryin' to find…somethin' else." Or someone else she heard him add silently. Tears suddenly blurred her vision again, threatening to fall. "Look," his tone was softer, gentler. "Teef, people have their reason for leavin', but even if it's a good one, it still hurts. The rejection still fuckin' hurts." She heard the pain in his voice, his sorrow, his guilt, his sadness, and she knew he was speaking of Shera. Tifa leaned forward a little and reached across the table, taking one of his rough, calloused hands in hers. She nodded in silent understanding and encouragement, something they could both use right now.

A single tear escaped and ran down her cheek. Before she could move to wipe it away, she felt the pad of his thumb gently soothe it away. She looked up at him, his eyes full of concern for her, full of caring. They stared at each other for a few minutes, his hand lingering near her face, his knuckles lightly brushing her cheek before coming to rest on top of her free hand.

He was the first to break the spell that seemed to have them so enraptured.

"It's…really late, I probably should go…" He pulled his hands back, but not before giving hers a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah," she said quietly. Her hands felt cold at the sudden loss of contact. She felt rather than saw him get out of the booth, and he gathered up his things from the bar before heading for the door. "Cid…" She called out and he stopped, turning to look at her. She slid out of the booth herself and walked towards him, stopping directly in front of him. "I'm sorry I dumped all that on you," she whispered as she stared at her feet. She felt his finger come up gently under her chin and guide her face so she was looking directly up at him.

"There's absolutely no damn reason to apologize ta me," he told her, his voice gentle but firm. "Besides, a wise person once told me that life's too short to dwell on the misgivings of the past." He let go of her chin and nervously scratched the back of his neck. "Shit, Tifa, I don't wantcha ever feelin' guilty 'bout talkin' to me." He paused and let his words hang in the air for a second or two. "I wantcha to know ya can always talk to me, Tif." More tears made their way down her cheeks and she felt his strong arms go around her as he pulled her into a warm embrace.

He smelled of cigarettes. And of his workshop; oil, gasoline, tools, metal.

He smelled like comfort.

She nuzzled his shoulder and he dropped his head to hers in response, burying his face in her neck. One of Cid's hands gently smoothed her hair against her back while the other grasped her gently around the waist. Suddenly he stopped himself and cleared his throat.

"All right," he said as he pulled back and held her at arm's length. "G'night Tifa." He leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead, lingering there for a second or two longer than necessary. Tifa leaned into the contact, but only briefly. He pulled back again and stared down at her, his eyes darkening somewhat, and she could almost see the wheels turning behind them.

He was considering something.

Whatever he was contemplating, she didn't give him time to decide. She leaned in and swiftly placed her lips on his, gently and tenderly at first. When he got over his initial shock at her action, Cid responded, his lips molding to hers, his tongue gently poking out to caress her lips.

He tasted like whiskey and smoke. His whiskers were rough against her chin and lips. It was enough to make her head spin and send little shockwaves of pleasure down her spine. She liked this, every bit of it.

She angled her head so they could deepen the kiss, her arms winding around his neck, her hands playing with the short pale blonde hairs at his nape. She felt him gasp slightly against her lips, and his arms hugged her closer to him, his hands massaging her back, starting to roam.

She pulled back, a little out of breath, and looked up at him, her eyes like smoldering embers. Cid's sky blue eyes were tinted with want and lust and…caring. She smiled shyly at him, and he grinned back.

"That was…Shit, that was…unexpected," he fumbled for the words, his low timbre making her stomach do flip-flops.

"Yeah…" She whispered back. Cid brought his hand up to stroke her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her soft skin. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, but only a quick, tender little peck, before disentangling himself from her entirely. "'Night, Highwind," she said as she grinned ruefully at him.

His only response was to smile back at her before he opened the door and walked out, the heavy clomping of boots the only sign of his retreat.

Tifa brought her fingers to her lips and thought back to the sweet pressure that had been there just moments before.

And for the first time in months, her final thoughts before she went to sleep were of a different blonde.

The man who had been her constant.