Reprisal

Author Note: Slight change to this chapter, as I decided Yuffie's 'vice' was too OOC. Materia seems more plausible.

Chapter Four

"Barrett!"

The large man on the cot turned around at the sound of his name, an oily rag clutched in his hand. The machine gun that was grafted to his arm gleamed in comparison to his filthy appearance and he cradled it like a baby, rubbing it carefully with the cloth.

Yuffie bounded over to him and threw her arms around his neck. He growled and pushed her away.

"Watch it! Can't you see I'm cleaning the damn thing?"

She ignored the reprimand and grinned widely, "I'm glad to see you!"

"Glad somebody is."

"All they're talking about at the Gold Saucer is the Shinra."

"I'm alright damnit," he scowled, "Can't say the same for them though."

He jerked his thumb towards another tent, just visible through the open doorway. There was a sign hammered into the ground with a large red cross on it. A man with crutches and a bandaged shoulder was sitting outside, staring at them.

"Tifa called me. Warned me about them."

Yuffie nodded, her hair bobbing around her face as if it had a life of its own, "Cid thought you'd been caught up in it all."

"Yeah I would have. But Tifa told me not to didn't she."

Barrett glared at the ground sullenly and Yuffie sat crossed legged next to him on the cot. She drummed her fingers on her boots idly as he continued to lovingly clean his gun.

There was silence, broken only by the drumming sound and the squeaking of the cloth against the metal.

"Why'd Tifa tell you not to fight?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"I thought she might have said something. How'd she know about the troops anyway?"

Barrett glared, and Yuffie flinched, closing her mouth.

"She's living in Midgar aint she. It's probably all over the streets, big shit like that."

Yuffie wasn't convinced by his words and she could tell he wasn't either. He was frowning at his weapon and gritting his teeth, His massive shoulders hunched up, the muscles rippling under his skin.

She found it hard to believe that somebody so big and angry looking could possibly heed the words of somebody as small as Tifa. She tried it all the time, and it certainly didn't work. It was like Tifa had a whistle, and Barrett was fine-tuned to its frequency.

She giggled at her own musings, fiddling with the laces of her boots.

"What?"

"Nothing," she smirked at him and he glared back.

They sat together in silence until a scraping sound at the door of the tent made them both look up.

The man from the medical tent was standing outside the door. Now that he was closer Yuffie could see that his eye was painfully swollen, and there was a yellowing cut across his cheek. He gestured inside with one of his crutches.

"Mind if I join you?"

He didn't wait for a reply, but slumped into a cot opposite them and stared at them both for a second.

"Name's Garrison."

"I'm Yuffie," Yuffie gestured to herself, bemused, "And that's Barrett."

"You aint no Shinra spy are you," Barrett asked, flexing his gun arm.

"Yeah, course I am. They beat up all their employees nowadays."

Barrett nodded, "Fair point."

"You were talking about Midgar."

"Yeah? What's it to you," Yuffie replied defensively.

"Nothin'" he shrugged, "Just beats sitting outside listening to the people scream."

He flashed her a smile. Despite the septic cuts on his face he was quite handsome, with his bright blue eyes and dark, unkempt hair. She couldn't help but smile back, and felt her cheeks flushing.

Next to her Barrett rolled his eyes.

"Not a great fan of the Shinra, if you must know," Garrison continued.

"Neither are we!" Yuffie grinned.

"Yeah well, nobody is are they?"

Barrett's voice was bitter, with a sarcastic edge to it that made Yuffie glare at him. Be nice!

"Not round here they're not," Garrison, replied, smirking at Barrett, "Maybe we should go find the drinking tent, carry on this talking over a beer."

Barrett looked up, interested, but Yuffie cut in, "Sorry we can't."

"We can't?"

"No."

"That's a shame," he looked from Barrett to Yuffie, at the conflicting looks on their faces, "Maybe I'll come speak to you tomorrow, if you're still around."

"We'll be here."

"Tomorrow then."

He struggled to rise to his feet, and Yuffie sprang up and offered him her arm. He took it, smiling. His hands felt rough as his fingers gripped her wrist.

"Thanks sweetheart."

She would have objected, but something shiny caught her eye. His dirty coat obscured a length of chain hanging from his belt. Set at odd intervals was round, glimmering balls that seemed to glow more resolutely as she stared at them. Materia.

As he left the tent Barrett shook his head, "What'd you go and say no for?"

"Because we don't know him. And Tifa said not to get involved."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Yuffie didn't hear him. She was staring wistfully at the retreating Garrison, just able to make out the chain of materia swinging under his coat. He turned as if on cue and saluted her.

"Killjoy," Barrett muttered.