Saturday night, and the Seventh Heaven was hopping!

The cheapest beer this side of the Community College brought party animals from all over the Slums to their bar, and summer time meant they'd opened the back doors as well. A girl named Arianna was hired to dance and she was putting on one hell of a show. Tifa was bartending with Wedge barbacking, while Cloud ran Seamless orders until Happy Hour when they'd need a second man on the tap.

"Yo Mo!" Barrett grabbed Cloud on his way out the door with an order. "Drop this off for me, will ya? It's a—"

"Barrett, I don't want to know what it is, just as long as it's not children."

"You funny brother. Real funny. You know I gots a kid, right?"

"Whatever you say, man."

"I do! My lil girl in the 1st Grade now!"

"Where is she?"

"Baby-mama-drama. Tellin' ya Cloud, don't ever fuck a white woman. They take you for all you're worth and then city give'em the kids!"

"Uh, I'll keep it in mind."

"Good man. My Aryan Nigga."

"You know I'm not Aryan, right?"

"You's a shade too light for the NAACP brotha."

"I'm half-Native, Lakota, on my mother's side."

"Well damn me, my Apache Chief brotha! Call me Geronimo and pass the peyote! " And Barrett passed Cloud a package.

Happy Hour rolled around and Cloud jumped behind the bar to help Tifa out. Wedge was using a measuring cup to mix a drink. Cloud took it from him and mixed it by eyeballing it faster.

"You'll get your shot Little Man, don't worry."

Arianna had the college crowd going. Legally dancers weren't allowed to go topless if alcohol was being served, but this side of lowcity no one gave a damn. Ari's top flew halfway across the dance floor. Barrett was supposed to check ID's at the door—half the crowd looked like they were about fourteen. A fight broke out at the other end of the floor. Tifa leapt over the bar and hockey-checked one brawler to the ground, then bull-wrestled the other out the door.

"Barrett! What the hell do I pay you for!" she yelled as she went back to bartending.

Even the dog wasn't completely useless. They tied the tip jar to Red's neck. He sat with a cute, stupid expression on his face while girls pet him and made their boyfriends drop gil in his jar. Score.

By last call, they kicked all the kids making out on the back wall out the door and swept the bathrooms of people getting it on quick-and-dirty. No shame. They all sat down at a table to count the earnings with exhausted slumps.

"Well, we're just short of half," said Tifa. "If we hustle for the next week, maybe we'll actually make rent and keep our skins too."

At that, the stripper pulled a wad of cash out of her bra.

"Here Ladies, this'uns from me, since you're all kind enough to let me work."

"No hun, you keep your tips, we need more than that anyway. How's school?"

"Blows. I'm stuck in all these classes that don't have anything to do with my major, and I'm wasting loads of time and money going nowhere."

"What are you studying?" asked Cloud. But Ari just scoffed at the ceiling.

"Tsh, at this point, hell if I know. I'm just glad my mother doesn't know about this gig yet. She's been in the hospital all week and the heart-attack she'd take if she found out would probably do her in. I mean, I don't turn tricks anymore, but I feel you about rent getting paid."

"You know," Cloud started, "we have a job in the kitchen. Doesn't pay much but it's steady."

"Thanks babe, I make more money doing this though. You guys sure you're all gonna be okay?"

"We'll make it work, somehow," Tifa assured her, then passed her another $20 gil. "And here's for your mother. Hope she feels better."

"Thanks doll. You guys take care of yourselves. Call me next weekend if you can."

The bar was closed for patrons but apparently not for friends, as Barrett had a clutch of homeboys out back by the barbeque getting ribs going.

"Yo! Tifs! Apache! Git out here and git some meat!"

Barrett seared the ribs with the flamethrower of his arm-cannon, cajoling with people that didn't look like thugs for a change.

"Cloud, Tifa, this is my Aunt Sarah, my step-mother Rose, my grand-uncle Patches, my cousin Lawrence, my niece Abigail…"

He went on introducing a clutch of family and distant relatives. Barrett actually had family! They seemed like a semi-normal Slum clan, one foot in and out of the gangs, half of the old generation just bantering over beer about the good ole' days and playing a harmonica.

Barrett came over to Cloud with another package.

"This one's for you Mo, my appreciation for all you do for Ole' Barrett. Bottoms up."

Cloud pulled the paper bag off of a vintage bottle of Bacchus' Brew…That stuff was so illegal!

"Barrett, holy hell, how did you—"

"You just take it easy Lil' Mo. Ole' Barrett's gotcha back. And we gon' make the rent and don't you worry about nuthin."

He clapped Cloud on the shoulder with his good hand, and then went back to grilling with his family. Here was a man who'd held a gun to his head more than a few times now getting his back, and cajoling with the very reason he was so hard on everyone in first place. Cloud cocked his brow, seeing the big thug of a man in an altered light.

Tifa meanwhile took the bottle with a wry look in her eye.

"Well, shot glass?" Cloud asked.

"Pfft," Tifa scoffed, undoing the quark with a leatherman on her belt. "You're such a bantam weight."

Then she took a pull straight from the bottle and shoved it into his chest.

"Bantam weight!?" Cloud exclaimed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why don't you take a shot like a man already and find out."

Ohhh, a challenger indeed. Cloud took his pull, and felt a warm tingling sensation creep throughout his body.

"Whoa…whoa…No wonder this stuff is illegal. I feel completely different!"

"Like how?"

"I don't know. I really don't even understand. I feel like I've had a religious experience or something."

Tifa played with the end of her fishtail and muttered off to the side. "Teh, that church school you went to finally made a dent."

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Did you say something?"

"No. Nothing. Nevermind."

Barrett and family hollered at the top of their lungs over something that only they would find funny. Cloud just looked over at Tifa with a spark that hadn't been there before.

"Hey, wanna get out of here? Let's go crash the drive-in."

A smile, so slight and sure, and he extended his hand. Tifa stood stunned for a moment, like she wasn't sure who was standing in front of her. Then, she held her breath and took his hand.

They headed out to the abandoned parking lot where Slum-bags brought dates to do dirty things, while a huge impromptu projector flashed a drive-in movie from the top of some old geezer's RV. The guy had been putting on movies for kids for well on thirty years, claimed to be some veteran from a war with Shinra that no one remembered. Bless his heart. Tonight, an old taping of Transformers played while Cloud and Tifa sat on top of a brick wall for lack of a vehicle.

"Do you like it?" Tifa asked fifteen minutes in.

"What the hell am I watching?"

"You said this was your favorite movie, once."

Cloud scratched his head.

"…Was I high?" Tifa laughed at that, but Cloud wouldn't let it go. "No seriously, I would have to be a colossal idiot with bacon for brains to garner even a shred of enjoyment from this stupid movie."

"Wow, you're even talking differently."

"I am?"

"Don't worry about it. We should do this more often."

"We should. Why don't we?"

And she just sat there stunned. He was looking at her. He actually expected an answer. She couldn't hold his eye-contact, and felt her face getting hot.

Yet another big explosion from the screen, and Cloud rolled his eyes.

"C'mon."

He hopped off the wall and reached up to help her down. She almost couldn't breathe. Who was this person? Two hands on her waist, he caught her on her way down, and hand-in-hand he lead her away like he had an idea where to go.

An old carnival lay abandoned next to the baseball stadium. Cloud and Tifa jumped the fence and hopped on the Gondola. Cloud reached his sword out the window and flipped the lever, and together they rose over the empty arena. He hit the emergency stop switch midway, and they dangled in the air away from the eyes of the world.

"Now if only there was a game going on," Tifa teased.

"Pfft, yeah. We'd get to watch people run around in a circle for no reason," Cloud quipped in reply.

She looked at him then with an amazed smile. He hated sports now too!

"I know what we can watch," and she flipped out her phone, pulling up YouTube on her Samsung brick. Together they sat enthralled and giggling, watching Bill Nye the Science Guy do jumping jacks and tell brainy jokes. Side by side, their shoulders were touching as the show explained the inner-workings of the human nervous-system, and a transhumanistic theory of brain-transplanting.

"This is actually possible, you know," Cloud added. "I read somewhere that Shinra successfully transplanted neurons from a host spinal cord into a donor spinal cord, enabling the subject to take on the host's memories. And also inversely, they were able to cure paraplegia by transplanting donor nerve cords back into the host's spinal column, allowing the test subject to walk again."

"That's amazing!"

"Yeah. Too bad Shinra just turned it into a bioweapons project. Looks like that's what went down with poor Red."

"He's safe now, though. He probably doesn't remember. Thank you for rescuing him for me."

"Pfft, who says I did it for you?"

"You quit it," she slapped his arm.

"Sorry," and that arm went around her shoulder without missing a beat. He wasn't even nervous, draping it like it belonged there. She just gazed up at him, worlds swirling in her eyes, while his were cool and still.

"You do feel different," she said, and he thought for a moment.

"Heh, yeah. I guess I do."

Now she was stunned, and hid a bright smile as hard as she could.

"Hey Cloud? Could you do me a favor?" And he furrowed his brow in question. "Could you take your earrings off?"

"You don't like them?"

"It's just…they seem so, not you."

"Why didn't you say something earlier? I won't wear them anymore."

"You'd do that…just because I said so?"

He promptly removed the two silver studs and dropped them in his pocket with a shrug.

"I don't really know why I got them done anyway. Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Now she couldn't hold his gaze, so steady and confident. She held her eyes on the cellphone screen, but could feel his eyes still on her. She glanced up, she was right, and glanced down. But this time, his hand caught her chin, and pulled her face to his lips. Soft breath brushed her mouth as she gasped, his sweet kiss, warm and steady and shooting her heart rate sky-high. For a moment, just a moment, they were connected, and when they finally broke, she sat frozen in his arms.

"That was long overdue," he whispered to her smile, and went in for another.

But then, the Gondola lurched. They looked out to see security guards below at the carnival reeling them back in.

"Oh snap, oh snap. Here, get on!" Cloud ushered her onto his back.

"Wait! What are we doing?"

"Jump Materia. Hang on!"

She threw her arms around his neck, and they leapt out the Gondola from high in the air. He landed cat-like in the stadium and grabbed her hand.

"Run, hurry!"

They booked it all the way back to the bar, stumbling with arms around each other. They barreled in as quiet as they could in their steel-toed combat boots, cringing as the floors wailed and complained underfoot. Tifa grabbed Cloud's arm, not giving him a choice, and pulled him upstairs in a mad rush, like they were still being chased. He stumbled up after her, obeying.

Into her room, dark and silent, she held him against the closed door. Her lips flowed against his as his arms flowed around her like ribbons, brushing her lithe shoulders and strong back. They teased under her shirt collar, tittering on the skin of her neck as if asking permission to go lower. Now the frantic pace slowed down, and their hearts sped up. She knew what he wanted…her shirt slid over her head.

He stood enamored in her purity, cool white skin unveiled to him. His hands caressed her lean stomach, running over her ribs to clutch ample handfuls of breasts. She gasped, halfway in elation but a squeak of pain snuck in there, and Cloud noticed something—white surgery scars running across her nipples. Breast reduction. Why had she done that? He loved every part of her, and now a tinge of grief crossed his heart, the botched procedure she'd undergone at a black clinic caused her pain to his intimate touch. He loosened his grip on her skin, moving his mouth down her neckline to her chest. He kissed her surgery scars in luscious sweeps that eased her pain, taking her into him, holding her taught against his own body. Succulent warmth filled her as he brushed his tongue over firm nipples, suckling her like honey and buttermilk, vanilla extract sliding in and out of his lips. Her knees gave way into him, crying as he lapped at the jagged scars, the same scars that crisscrossed his own arms. The Slums had not been kind to either of them.

He let his sword fall to the ground, and his belt followed at her insistent hands. Before he knew what was happening, she was on her knees, lips sliding over his erection to pierce the back of her being. Her pressure constricted him, caressing his glands, absorbing him as if to pull him out of his own body. She played with the underfold of skin that drove him crazy, and he cried. He couldn't help it, her teeth hurt him in a way that shot fire through his limbs. He loved it. He felt her tongue circling in luscious whirls, and he lost control, letting a soft moan float to the dark ceiling. He didn't know how she could take it, but as her teeth bit down in little nips, and the tip of her tongue invaded him like she was trying to enter him, he couldn't take it anymore.

He grabbed her hair—he didn't mean to—and drove himself into her, all the way so that lips touched leg, entering in a way that made her dig her nails into his thigh. He grinded against her jaw, pressuring the back of her head, driving into her until his thighs bled from her grip. A solid nine inches filled her entirety, stretching the back of her tight thorax. When he saw her hands pulling her own belt off, his body flipped an on-switch. It was go-time.

He lifted her up, moving her back toward the bed, under the covers naked as the day they were born. He struggled to find her, a hand exploring her vulva to make her moan in agony. It helped him guide himself up into her, and slide up past the full stretch of her womb. A sweet sandpaper brush of her labia welcomed him, tightening around his circumcised neck, rippling in waves that agitated him. It was like her body was pulling on him in a way that sent chemicals flooding to his member, filling him with power-hungry lust, driving with a feral need over a million years old.

Then, cool waters, soft elation connected them in solipsism. Her sweet cries as he shoved his tongue down her throat, over her neck, lapping her breasts like candy while he arched his hips and filled her. Now their hearts beat as one, he pressed himself to her like he couldn't be close enough, like inside her wasn't deep enough. Weeping into her like his body was crying to be part of her, he sighed in her ear words that came from his soul.

"Your face…It kept me going."

He didn't know what he meant, he didn't know why he was saying these things. All he knew was that suddenly he had the unshakable urge to get this girl a fridge full of food, get her some health insurance, get her a house, but most importantly…get her a ring.

Elation beyond the confines of skin melded them together like music, his soft moaning cries melting with hers. A pinnacle, an apex, they reached a climax together as their bodies fell in sync. They were one now, hypervescent, braided limbs interlocked in heart-pounding agony. High above the steel sky, where clouds flowed free in brining storms, he let himself be taken far. His soul laid bare, he found himself, an epiphany, an anathema, a destiny, only to collapsed inside her.

Safety brazing the back of his mind, he pulled out to let the rest of himself flow onto her stomach, hot aether running across her chest, dabbling onto her chin and lips but she didn't mind. Her head thrown skyward and mouth moaning in ecstasy, her body arched up to receive him, as a sacred holy offering she gave herself to him.

And so he stayed locked in her holy embrace, until the moonlamps went out at dawn, and he fell asleep in the arms of his angel. Entangled in her limbs, black flyaways brushing his face from her frizzed fishtail...he dreamt of auburn hair.

.

[Received Elixir]