*sigh* Thank goodness for that word generator-my brain's run out of prompts that I could be using right now. D: My apologies if some of these chapters are somewhat dry-I've been a bit stressed out with other things and writing anything has been put on the backburner, at best. But hopefully I'll be able to get back around to it soon, so wish me luck. xD You know that I love to know what you think of my chapters-so keep on reviewing! It's a big help.

Enjoy!


Soft humming filled a vacant bar as the sun spilled out onto rough, pale hardwood and well-worn and washed tables. Chairs creaked quietly as they stood atop the counters, and silverware clinked while water sloshed in an old dishwasher on one side of the back counter. Skilled hands moved across black granite with a dirtied rag and with it, the humming increased ever so slightly.

Wine eyes lifted to the clock above.

Three o'clock.

Cloud would be coming home soon—he didn't have too many deliveries today and had decided he had no reason to stay out any longer than necessary. Spring on the Eastern Continent was finally coming around; although the roads were still slick from cold rain and Cloud had keep Tifa sitting on pins and needles entirely for the past three months. She needed to convince him to get a car—or at least something with more than two wheels. And a sidecar on Fenrir wasn't going to count.

Hurried footsteps above allowed a small smile to encroach upon the barmaid's face. Small shouts and giggles followed, and the sound of doors opening and closing behind one another and walls settling as frames did so.

She missed him though. She missed the sound of the bell above the front door jingling at eleven at night, and the sound of boots struggling to keep quiet on rickety flooring as they snuck up the narrow stairs. She missed that quiet voice that could make her relax and feel simply at him in an instant. And she missed his touch—the feeling of warm, handle-worn palms taking her fingers beneath them and closing against them whenever they felt cold, even cracked, dish soap-worn hands were no match against his. Not that she minded at all.

She rubbed an arm beneath her eyes before chuckling softly to herself. She woke up late this morning and picked the first shirt she saw in a rush—it smelled like him, though—probably because it was his to begin with. He had worn it a few days ago and she had meant to wash it; although it fell from the top of the ever-growing pile of laundry and she had never bothered to pick it back up. And, resting her head against her own shoulder, she realized that maybe grabbing the wrong shirt wasn't so bad. At least it wasn't too big on her. Come to think of it…she might even start wearing his shirts more often. It smelled like him. And he smelled good—like fresh air, grass, leather, and a hint of motor oil…it was fitting. And it was perfect.

Cloud gave good hugs, too. It was such a strange mixture of traits…embraces, and Cloud in himself. But it was the way things were, and yet another thing that Tifa didn't mind taking advantage of. Kissing was an entirely different matter, however; not necessarily one that was above-the-table appropriate at times. But she supposed that she could use a relatively welcoming hug—the bar was empty and standing on already-tired feet was exhausting as it was. She hated sounding needy, but she had needs just as everybody else on this planet and she figured she may as well voice them on occasion, because at least somebody was willing to listen. But Cloud had been listening to her from the very start, anyways; whether he consciously acknowledged it or not. But he always knew what she was talking about; there was not eye contact or lifted heads required. And she liked it that way, because she knew that Cloud was always listening to her and the children.

Her eyes lifted upon the soft jingling of a bell and footsteps; similar to those she could just strain to hear every night if she paid enough attention to it. Garnet orbs met sapphire-jade eyes and that warm smile that was just Tifa's grew once more upon her face as she swiftly slipped out from behind the counter.

The blonde ran a quick hand through thick gold locks and returned the woman's kind smile with one of his own. He laid down an undelivered package onto the table and outstretched an arm. Tifa allowed him to pull her against him with a strong grip circling her waist and buried her face into his warm shoulder. "…Welcome back."

"Glad I'm back," A soft chuckle passed his lips as he allowed his other arm to wrap around her fully and press her closer. "…It's cold outside."

"But," Tifa laughed quietly and drew back slightly; however she remained locked in his arms as he refused to let go as easily as she presumed. "I thought you never get cold, Cloud."

Cloud rolled his eyes and flashed a quick grin. "There's only so much I can take, you know."

Tifa picked the package up and examined it carefully in her hands. "Well then I guess you aren't going to be able to keep me warm tonight when we're watching that movie with the kids," She stopped and gave him a small smile. "Like you promised."

He drew her back against him gently. "I never said that."

"Denzel and Marlene are going to happy to see you—they must have drawn a thousand different things for you while you were gone," Her finger lightly tapped several pieces of paper that laid spread across a table.

Cerulean eyes followed her shadow of a form as she slipped past the counter and dug in the fridge for something before she lifted four plates, skillfully and swiftly spreading them out among four separate seats.

"Where is everyone?"

She pointed to the clock looming above her head. "I closed early today. Figured you wouldn't want too many people hanging around while you and I were together."

Blonde eyebrows lifted slightly. "…Why?"

Tifa laughed quietly to herself and held two thumbs to her chest. "…Because of all of the shit they'd give you."

"I guess," The hint of a sneaking smirk danced upon Cloud's lips as he examined various crayon drawings, "but that's what I'm here for in the first place."

She smiled. "…To take bull from people?"

He shook his head and gently wrapped his knuckles against the table's worn and well-scratched wood. "To kick the ones out that do."

Tifa shrugged and gave him another quick grin before she turned to the stairs and held up a hand to her mouth. "…Come down you guys, dinner's ready."

Silence. The footsteps had stopped several minutes, as did the voices that accompanied them.

Cloud took the drawings and folded them together before he shoved them into his jean pocket. He stood alongside Tifa for another few minutes before he held a hand to her face to quiet her before he made his own way to the landing and peered around the corner. "…Denzel, Marlene."

Nothing.

Tifa stared at him with a perplexed face. "…They always come down when you call them," She laughed. "They get more excited to see you."

He bit his lower lip and, after much contemplation, opened his mouth. But then closed it.

She looked at him. "Hmm?"

"They like it when I get them to come down," He ran another uncomfortable hand through his hair before continuing, "because I'm not as home as much as they want me to. And I wish I could tell them how sorry I am for that—I wish I could explain to you how sorry I am that I can't be here as much as you'd want me to."

The barmaid had nothing to say for several minutes. She pulled the lid off of a pot boiling on the rusty stove and scooped a generous amount of peas onto her plate, then less on his, and then even less on the children's. Cloud kept his gaze relatively locked on the stairs; although it occasionally shifted between said stairs and the certain woman to keep a view.

"They know that you have to go out and work—I know that, too. You shouldn't apologize for something that can't be helped," She gave him a smile and patted the bar stool beside her as she sat down. "They'll come down when they get around to it."

He took the welcomed seat and pulled the warm plate closer to his chilled hands. "But you know that I still hate it."

Tifa picked up a fork and stirred her rice around into a pile of various vegetables. "I know. But you've been taking more and more days off—you have no idea how much I appreciate having you around here."

He gave her a small smile upon reminiscing about thrown-out inebriated men and woman who got just a little too touchy around him. "…I noticed."

The two sat in silence as they picked at their food mindlessly and sipped their respective glasses.

"…I was thinking about taking tomorrow off, Tifa."

She looked at him. "That'll be nice. I'm sure that the kids will find something for you to do for them."

He chuckled softly, more to himself than to her. "Marlene wanted me to bring home flowers for you yesterday."

"Did she?" An amused grin spread across her face.

Cloud nodded. "…But I thought that was a little too…" He stopped as he struggled to find a fitting word.

"…Cliché?"

He nodded once more.

"Well, if it helps," Tifa smiled and nudged him gently with her elbow before she slid her stool closer to his and rested her head gently upon his shoulder. "I do like flowers. But you don't need to get me any. I don't need them at all, because I have you. And having you is definitely more useful than a vase of flowers that one of the drunks would just break." She laughed.

Cloud said nothing initially; although soon he found his face growing hot and he was sure that she could see it. "You know I love you."

Tifa gently squeezed his arm and placed a soft kiss against his lips. "…I noticed."