A/N: Does anyone picture Barret with a hint of Texan in his accent? That's how I like my Barret. A little more drawl than twang, but he's into Texas blues.

I originally intended to make this chapter much longer and with different PoVs during the party in Rocket Town. However, I liked the idea of this one sitting alone to take in this talk by itself.

Chapter 26

Good Talk

No doubt Cloud could be a stubborn ass sometimes. Hell, Barret could, too! But the damn tension in the room needed a chainsaw to cut. He wanted fresh air, a less crowded place to get some things off his chest, so he shot Tifa a comforting wink and nod before the door slammed shut.

He'd said his piece to her, now it was this red-caped gunman's turn.

"You know when I lost my Myrna—thought the world ended. And it did for a time, too. I couldn't see straight, didn't eat. Hell—didn't even sleep until I just passed out, unable to go on." Barret settled his forearm onto the scaffolding climbing up the side of Cid's new airship. They'd already been here a few minutes, but that was the first either had spoken.

Vincent stared through the open cargo doors, giving the impression he didn't hear, but Barret knew better. That man probably analyzed every conversation like one of them old damn weapon prototypes used to dissect their moves for weakness.

"Guess ya get used to it. Pain don't go away, but it becomes part a' who you are." Barret scratched his forehead with a thumb. Opening up to Vincent was as easy as shaving a pissed-off behemoth. "And the loneliness is there too, not just emotional—know what I mean?"

Vincent pointedly avoided eye contact. He wasn't going to make this easy, being more old school and keeping his own council—not unlike the way Barret's dad did when the old man was still alive. Hell—his dad even swore off women for good the day his momma died, swearing that taking another into his bed was the same as cheating. Vincent seemed the same sort, had probably even unconsciously made a vow of celibacy, like he deserved it for what happened back in the day.

But screw that! Barret loved his wife more than anyone—would give his own good-for-nothing life if it meant she'd never had to suffer all those years ago. But hell, that don't mean every now and then a particular urge didn't get the better of him. She's been gone 11 years and wouldn't hold it against him. No one could replace her in his heart; he'll love her until his dying breath.

"Never really thought of myself as a Wall Market kinda guy. Don't get me wrong, I still love a good blues bar and that whole scene, but somethin about layin down some hard-earned Gil for womanly attention—well, that never set right with me." Barret darted his eyes at Vincent, who remained tightlipped as he continued his gaze out of the hangar. "Guess you're the same."

Again, no response. Vincent placed a hand on the scaffolding as Barret lowered his own and fished into a pocket for his phone. Maybe Vincent was unaware of how things were done nowadays. It'd been a while since the man was on the dating scene. Could be he didn't know how easy the online scene made it on a single man with no attachments.

"Not sure how much you use the net on your phone or if you ever download any apps, but—uh," Barret again glanced at Vincent, who hadn't moved, only listened with that cold, brooding stare. Barret decided to press on. Maybe Vincent didn't know.

"Well, there's different apps, see? An' they got these dating sites you can search for people like you—or uh, maybe people only interested in the same things." Barret paused as Vincent finally moved, changing his weight from one foot to the other. And Barret coulda' swore he saw that chin sink lower into that damn cape.

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a little nervous as Vincent's actual age came to mind—he'd slept through half his miserable life. Things just never stopped being unfair.

Barret rose to his full height. Shit—already started this damned convo—may as well see it through.

"I don't use all of 'em. But there's this one that's pretty accurate—or maybe just feels more honest to me. Ya see you can put exactly what you're lookin' for. So, say if you just want to hang out and go see a movie now and then. Well, they got a filter for that, and you match with a woman that's lookin' for the same."

Vincent again shifted, even rattled his gauntlet slightly as though marking an itch. Barret took it as a cue of interest.

"An' well, some people want a little more—a lot more. They tag their profile if they're looking for marriage or a friend. Know what I mean?"

Barret let it hang a moment, giving Vincent time to catch up. Finally, he wordlessly peeked over his cape at Barret.

"I got this lady friend. Met her through the app. She's same situation as me. Husband died, but she ain't lookin to marry again."

Barret paused as he felt his face heat with slight embarrassment. Tifa knew of his lady friend; the others didn't. Barret didn't really need it known, but Vincent seemed like he could use some looking out.

"Anyway, we keep it casual, an' I see her every month or so when the kids stay at Tifa's. They never met her. I don't want Marlene gettin used to somebody who ain't really gonna be all that for me."

Vincent faced him, taking in Barret's height, and eyed his phone with an unreadable expression.

"If you're interested, I'll send you an invite. I get a discount if I recommend a friend who signs up. I think you might get the first month free. So, it ain't no skin off your back if you don't get a bite."

Barret opened the app and sent Vincent the link. When it buzzed, Vincent pulled out his phone and stared at the screen a moment before dragging his eyes back up to Barret.

"Good talk," Vincent replied and headed back into the house.

Barret shrugged and assumed his preaching was doing some good. Only the women remained in the kitchen when they reentered the house. Tifa watched Vincent slowly disappear around the corner and head into the front sitting room, worry and hurt etched into her features as the man neither said anything nor acknowledged her presence.

Barret scratched his head when Tifa gave him an accusing stare. Maybe she thought he brought her up, but he handled it smooth-like. Vincent understood everything just fine. You don't give a man directions by handing over the map. A couple points the right way, and he's good.