Barret, of course, chose that very moment to barge into the bar, stomping and grumbling loudly about no-good layabouts who only knew how to get drunk. At the sound of his voice, Marlene leapt up from where she had hidden and ran to him, leaping into his arms.

"Papa!" she cried joyfully. "Welcome home!"

He swung her up onto his shoulders, spinning as he did so, and his face lit up as she giggled gleefully.

Tifa laughed along with them, before asking him, "So it went well? You're still in one piece?"

"Mmhm," he grunted in reply, before tearing his attention away from Marlene long enough to yell at the others who were gathering at the door.

"Get in here, fools! We're startin' the meetin'!"

Without a second glance, he marched over to an innocent looking pinball machine in the corner and pulled the lever on the side. A loud cacophony of creaking announced his departure as the section of floor descended slowly, carrying him and his still-laughing bundle out of sight. The others followed, albeit slower. Jessie went down first, while the boys stopped to talk to Tifa.

"You couldn't get a guy a drink, could you?" Biggs asked Tifa with a mock-charming grin.

She shook her head with a smile, but quickly mixed up something in a small glass and placed it on the counter. He tipped it down in one gulp and sat down on one of the stools with a satisfied sigh.

"Ahhh, nothing like that first drink after a job!" he said happily, gesturing Cloud over. "Why don't you have one too?"

Cloud shook his head, not wanting to get tied down with the whole buddy-buddy deal – he just wanted to be paid and be out of here. Biggs got up, polishing off the glass that Tifa had refilled for him, and stomped off to join Barret, grumbling under his breath about big-shot SOLDIERS who were too good to drink. Wedge, however, was not so easily put off.

Having grabbed some food from behind the counter, he turned to Cloud and said, "Don't worry about Biggs, he's always bothering everyone to drink."

He laughed and continued, "He hasn't stopped bothering me yet! But you know, you should really try some of Tifa's cooking, it's the best! She always lets me taste it first, so I'm so roly-poly now. It's the good food and drinks she makes that make this shop so famous, though!"

He looked like he was going to say more, but Barret's irritated roar, "Hurry the hell up, Wedge!" sounded from underneath.

Cloud almost had to laugh when the poor guy almost leapt from his seat, toppling it in the process, and hurried over to the now-waiting elevator. He, too, disappeared, leaving Cloud and Tifa alone again. Cloud certainly didn't intend to attend this 'meeting' of theirs, so he sat himself down at the counter.

"Actually," he said to Tifa, "I'll take that drink now. Give me something hard, anyone would need it after dealing with that guy."

She mixed it silently, but as she served it up to him, she said in a low voice, "You know, Cloud, I'm relieved you made it back safely."

He stared at her, wondering why she would be so concerned about him, but she picked up a glass and began cleaning it intently, avoiding his gaze.

"What's with you all of a sudden?" he asked, unable to find any good reason. "That wasn't even a tough job."

He downed the glass, hardly tasting its contents, and as he set it down she replied, "I guess not, huh? You were in SOLDIER after all…"

Her voice trailed off, as if unsure of herself. The silence between them stretched awkwardly, with only the squeak of the glass she was cleaning and the rumble of voices below to fill the gap. He had no words, and found himself staring into the empty glass instead.

Finally, as if grateful to have something to say, she exclaimed, "Oh! Make sure you get your pay from Barret, okay?"

He barked out a harsh laugh. As if he would forget something like that.

"Don't worry," he said shortly, pushing the glass back to her. "As soon as I get that money, I'm outta here."

He stood up and stretched, moving to the pinball machine. The hubbub of voices had died down, and he thought it safe to go down now.

"Cloud," Tifa called.

He turned to see she was finally looking at him again, still with the worried expression on her face. She'd been like this since he arrived here at Sector 7 – almost as if she thought something was terribly wrong with him, although he wouldn't blame her, after all they'd been through. Terrible memories welled up inside him, and although it nearly made him physically sick, he forced them back down, refusing to allow the gruesome images a foothold.

Tifa gave him a probing look and asked, "Are you feeling alright?"

He nodded, putting on his best poker face and feigning ignorance.

"Why?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

She looked away again, back at the glass and cloth in her hands.

"No reason," she said softly. "You just look a little tired, I guess."

She stopped, changing the topic.

"You better go down, I think they're done now."

He pulled the lever, putting Tifa out of mind. After all, he would be leaving this all behind in a few minutes, so there wasn't much point in worrying about it. She could take care of herself. As could he. They had their own, separate lives to live, as it always had been. He could hear the heavy thud of glass against counter as the floor descended, but he refused to look back.