Kiss, Kiss: Reprise
Ringing in the New Year, 2021
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Da-da-da-dum. Da-da-da-dum. Da-da-da-dum.
Smooth nails drummed along the polished wood of the bar top, tapping out a muted melody against the backdrop of quiet conversation and the occasional clunk of a glass atop a wooden table. The bar itself was mostly clear, the soft lights overhead reflected along its smooth surface like fireflies frozen in time. Outside it was chilly, a gusty and wintry night void of sleet or snow, and the central heat was doing a fine job of keeping everyone inside of Seventh Heaven nice and warm.
Tifa sighed. There were precious few patrons on New Year's Eve, and while she had been hoping for an easy night, the showing had been very poor. The kitchen was closed, and most of the lingering patrons had finished up their drinks and were putting off going back out into the cold. She had already stocked everything for the following day and wiped down everything multiple times. There was hardly anything left to do.
She supposed she could update the measurements for the liquor on display. She turned to do just that, since the evening was winding down. She didn't notice the addition of one more guest that evening as he snuck in during a lull in the brisk wind.
"Ti-fa ."
Two musical notes rang out softly, in a smooth, distinctly masculine register, calling her name in a near-likeness of its pitch just over the quiet din of the dining room. She recognized that voice, and a grin broke out on her face before she had even turned to face him.
"Vincent!" She whirled quickly, sneaker spinning the ball of her foot against the floor with ease, and she slammed her hands on the countertop bracing herself and showing him a thousand-watt smile.
She caught him off-guard, and he startled in surprise, eyes wide and brows high, and they both froze.
Tifa was the first to react, her grin morphing into pleasant surprise before she was biting down on another, laughter threatening to break free before she clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes positively dancing with amusement as they beamed up at him.
Vincent had the decency to look sheepish as he took the seat in front of him, pulling out the barstool with his right hand and settling himself deftly.
"I suppose I deserve that, for not showing my face in a while."
His left was hidden beneath his long and heavy coat. Shera had taken to performing upgrades on it, slowly replacing its components and shaping it into something looking more modern, more human, but when he was in-between procedures, it was a grab-bag guess as to how much was really there below the elbow. He had a tendency to keep it close, even if it was completely covered with a sleeve. It was so integrated with the remains of his organic arm, metal where flesh had been cut away, that it was such a personal thing to leave bare.
Shera tried to leave Vincent with as much of a working arm as possible between sprints, but Vincent was eager to get it done and over with. There wasn't exactly an adequate test environment for something so personalized, so she had to be crafty in his absence.
"Mmm," Tifa hummed, conspiratorially, leaning now against her hip. "And what do I get for getting a Turk to jump like that?"
Vincent cleared his throat. "Former Turk," he pleaded, "and just my company, I'm afraid." He didn't look apologetic in the least.
Tifa gave an encouraging, almost giddy smile. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Vincent. I've missed you around here."
"It's good to be missed." His eyes surveyed the room, taking quick stock of his surroundings. "I thought it might be busier on New Year's Eve."
She sighed wistfully, but kept on smiling. Tifa always kept smiling. "I have competition. The city's rebuilding, and new businesses are starting to take off. One in particular, further up the street, is drawing a younger crowd. Although," she shrugged, "I don't think I would want their clientele every night. I'd have to hire Barrett to do crowd control."
"Or a Turk," he winked.
"Former Turk," she corrected, biting back a smirk.
"By younger, do you mean about your age?"
She swatted at his arm as she turned to the shelf of liquor behind her, muttering under her breath about things like 'having caught up' and 'just a few years' and 'just because someone's started aging again'.
"I see," he hummed.
She pulled down a honey whiskey and set it on the bar, grabbing two glass tumblers and filling them with ice, preparing to make doubles. "I don't feel so young," she said quietly, measuring the pour by sight. Vincent's eyes tracked her movements while she returned the whiskey to the shelf, and again while she poured ginger ale from a couple bottles she pulled from behind the counter.
"Well, you look great."
Tifa met his unwavering gaze as she finished up the bottles, the tops of the glasses fizzing out and tickling her wrists with tiny bubbles as they flew.
He nodded towards them, not breaking eye contact. "Quite a reaction."
Oh, she was trying so hard to bite back a laugh. "You," she said, "are trouble." She broke their stare-off to stir the drinks and to grab a couple of lime wedges and fit them onto the sides of the glasses. She then slid one towards him, dropping a beverage napkin beneath it and a straw into the glass.
"I thought I was a sight for sore eyes," he said, taking a sip.
"Mm-hmm," she hummed around her own straw. "I bet you broke a lot of hearts back in your day."
A couple years ago, a comment like that would have led to a dark and dismal response from Vincent, 'something-something-atonement', but instead he just scoffed in mock offense. "My day?"
She couldn't help it, she was laughing outright.
"I can't believe I'm hearing this from you, Tifa."
"Pity you came here just to be insulted," she chided, eyes sparkling with mirth and warmth. "Still, it's nice to see you coming out of your shell."
Vincent opened his mouth as if to retort, but paused and coughed into his hand, turning his face for a moment. His ears had gone red.
"What did I say?"
A smile was creeping back over his features, but he kept his eyes averted towards his drink. "It's nothing, really, just..." He chuckled, and then shook his head as if shaking the thought away. "No, nothing."
She blinked. "You can tell me."
"No, I..." He seemed to struggle, looking positively bashful under her scrutiny. "I was going to make a joke about the literal state of the shell of my arm, but didn't really think through how it sounded. Kind of glad I didn't."
Tifa's brow furrowed in confusion, before a thought struck her. "Oh, you were going to say something that sounded dirty," she teased. "Something that sounded like you were talking about something else."
Vincent aborted his next sip, meeting her eyes head-on. "Well, now I may as well have."
"Go on and tell your dirty joke, dirty man," she gloated.
"Hm, no."
She threw her hands up. "And after all that build-up."
"You'll never know," he jeered. "The drink is very good, by the way."
"I'm sure the joke was good, too. And thanks, Tseng and Elena suggested the combination."
"They come here often?" Vincent seemed suddenly a little less mirthful.
"Once in a while," she said, tilting her head.
He frowned. "No threats?"
"Threats?" she asked. "No, nothing like that. Why?"
Vincent worried his lip while his thumb worried the condensation on his glass. "With business kicking back up, I'm just concerned. I don't want anyone harassing you."
"Vincent," she said. "I can take care of myself."
"I know," he said earnestly. "I just don't want you to have any worries."
A third voice interrupted them from the end of the bar. "Tifa, may I have another draft?"
Tifa turned to see one of her regulars, a rosy-cheeked portly older man who had been dressed to the nines that evening and cozied up in the corner with his wife. She was equally dressed up in a gown and fur, equally portly and equally rosy-cheeked from the cold or the alcohol.
"Certainly, Sam!" Tifa said, and chanced a glance at the clock. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and called out to the rest of the room, "Last call!"
There was a low murmur of voices in response, but it seemed no one was getting up. She shrugged as she fetched a new glass and headed for the taps.
"Same brand?" she asked. "How about for Susan?"
"Yes, and no thank you," he said kindly. "She's done for the night. Going to head out soon, but just enjoying the warmth in the meantime." He mimed a little shiver.
"I bet," she said, bringing his drink over. "Well, be careful out there."
"Oh, we will. Thank you," the man said, reaching for his wallet. "We'll cash out now."
Tifa nodded and pulled up Sam's tab at the till, closing out his check and bringing it to him with genuine thanks and well wishes for the new year which were echoed back sincerely. She then made her way back to Vincent. "I'm going to close out everyone's bill and drop them at the tables, and then I'll be right back."
Vincent nodded, and returned to sipping on his drink while Tifa took care of her patrons. He watched her stop to make a bit of conversation with her regulars after dropping the rest of the checks off at the other tables, but kept his attention mostly on the bar so as not to be caught staring. She made her way back behind the bar and approached him again as he was squeezing his lime wedge into his drink.
"Loveless had an early showing today," she said, an explanation for the fancy clothing her regulars wore.
"Mm," Vincent hummed, tipping his glass back up to his mouth.
Tifa was charmed. "Better with lime?" she asked, suspecting she already knew the answer.
"Still very good," he stated, "but I haven't made up my mind." He set his glass back against the bar. "All Cid and Shera serve me is tea."
"Goddamn tea," she added, earning another chuckle out of him.
"I'm not sure if that was a correction, or sympathy for my plight."
"A little of both," she said, tipping her own glass back and finishing it off.
Vincent quirked an eyebrow and his mouth, ready to tease her for finishing before him. "Isn't it bad form to drink behind the bar?"
"It's my bar, Vincent," she said loftily.
A gust of chilly air blew through them then, and Tifa nodded over his shoulder. "Everyone's leaving."
He glanced back to see everyone filing out, and it was then that he noted the deep chime coming from the center square signaling the early hour of the morning. It was heard loud and clear around the bar as the few patrons that had remained that night took turns holding the door open until all had made it out into the street. It was a relief when the door was finally closed and the room began to heat again.
It was just then that Tifa, who had been waving farewell to her departing guests and having not noticed how the motion had her leaning forward onto the bar, knocked her ample chest into her own glass and tipped it over.
Vincent scooted back on his barstool on reflex with a simple, "Whups," as she cried out in surprise, warning and embarrassment. "It's only ice, Tifa," he tried to reassure her.
"I can't believe I did that," she said, growing pink as she grabbed for a cloth behind the bar.
"You mean, that's never happened before?"
"I-"
Vincent began shaking with barely repressed laughter.
Tifa leveled a finger at him. "No jokes about cups and their sizes!"
This earned a full bout of laughter from him, while he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and tried to reply between chuckles. "You said it, not me."
"You were thinking it."
"I was thinking there was a joke in there somewhere, yes, but I hadn't yet formed it."
It was almost unthinkable, how comfortable they'd gotten with each other over the years. It would be unfair for her to assume that this was Vincent as he was before everything went sideways, as though the last thirty or so years were just a bad dream. Surely, there was no picking up where things had left off.
Surely, their ragtag group had helped to shape this Vincent, just as he had rubbed off on all of them.
"I blame Highwind for your pervert side."
Vincent feigned affront. "I am a perfect gentleman. If anything, I've been a positive influence on him."
"His sense of humor has gotten darker."
"Yes, now he has one."
Tifa shook her head as she continued to wipe down the bar top, knocked off her game and thoughts a jumble. Vincent, ever so helpful, began collecting ice with his fingers and dropping it back into the righted glass.
"You know," Vincent began, leaning close.
"Mm?" Tifa turned abruptly, Vincent right there, and her nose brushed against his before she could pull away. "Oh!" she exclaimed, feeling a flush creep over her face as she stumbled back a step.
Vincent reached out, as though prepared to keep her from falling, but settled once she seemed fine. "A happy accident." His mouth twitched, a small smile threatening to break through. "I don't suppose you would care to make it worthwhile?"
Oh.
She felt suddenly so much warmer.
They had all been so tight-knit once upon a time. There had been many moments passing between the whole lot of them that could have almost been something more. But Vincent, ever the one most likely to drift out of their lives only to appear once more with nary an explanation, was the first to ever... directly reach for more like this.
She licked her lips, eyes flicking between his eyes and his mouth in anticipation. "Countdown is long over."
"I don't mind if you don't."
"I don't mind at all." She leaned over the bar...
...brushing up against the glass she had righted once more, and threatening to topple it. She scrambled to keep it from falling again, breaking their momentum, but saving the spill.
"Oh, my goodness," she laughed. "I'm on a roll-"
She was interrupted by the gentle press of his warm mouth, Vincent ducking down to intercept her apologies as he gently took the glass from her and set it aside. Her surprise was muffled into the kiss as it deepened, easy and familiar as though it was something they did all the time, natural as breathing. He hummed in delight as she began to return the kiss with fervor, reaching up to cup her face and trailing his hand back over the soft curve to bury his fingers in the soft hair behind her ear.
The first kiss ended with lingering pecks and toothy smiles, quiet laughter in the small space between them. Vincent would hum against her mouth, sighing for "another", and she couldn't help but oblige.
Eventually she pressed him back by the lapels of his coat.
"I'll be right back," she said, but it sounded more like, don't go anywhere.
As if he would.
Vincent stood there and watched as she disappeared into the back room, presumably to get a mop for the floor. Instead he was surprised when she emerged from the swinging door bundled up in her coat. She rounded the counter and pulled him down again for another kiss, no bar top between them preventing them from getting closer.
As they stumbled their way to the exit, Tifa pushing his larger frame playfully between kisses and Vincent putting up a token protest, their hushed banter started up again.
"Walk me home?"
"Thought you could take care of yourself?"
"Thought you didn't want me to have any worries?"
"Do you need help cleaning up?"
"I'm saving it for the morning."
"Hmm, isn't that bad form?"
"It's my bar, Vincent."
"There's ice on the floor."
"It will be easier to clean up when it's water. I'm opening tomorrow anyway."
"There are open checks on the tables."
"They're not going anywhere."
"Completely irresponsible."
"Exactly what you should expect from the younger crowd."
"That is true."
"And who's robbing the cradle?"
"Maybe someone more noble ought to walk you home."
"Shut up, Vincent."
With that, she dimmed the lights and locked the door behind them, and they went out into the night, feeling much warmer together.
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Final Fantasy VII and its characters are © 1997 Square-Enix Co., Ltd.
Dark's Notes: Thought your inbox was playing tricks on you when you saw this, did you? I'm satisfied with it if you are. I hope you smiled anyway. I read recently on the Wiki that a draft version of Vincent's character would go out of his way to flirt with female team members. That was after I started writing this, but we'll pretend I was inspired instead of taking wild liberties and didn't actually click on the Wiki because I forgot which arm was which.
"If you read the Wiki you would know it's a gauntlet!" I do know. I also know that Tifa lives above Seventh Heaven in Advent Children. But it's my story.
See you in another decade, I guess? ;)