Aerith had only been waiting for a few minutes when she spotted Tifa approaching in the pre-dawn dimness under the plate, a vague shadow distinguishable mostly by the distinctive shape of the Buster Sword on her back. The Cetra stood with hands on her hips at the crumbling wall marking the boundary between Sector 5 and Sector 6. Flickering, buzzing electric lights provided fitful illumination and – far above – a greenish glow filtered down from the upper city. The flower girl saw her new friend before Tifa spotted her, so she was able to see the guilty twitch in the other woman's shoulders when the glowing crimson eyes lit upon her.

"Maybe SOLDIERs don't sleep as much as normal people," Aerith said, knowing it wasn't true, but wanting to give Tifa an excuse. She didn't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved her hunch had been proven true and the dark-haired woman had tried to sneak out before Aerith was awake.

Tifa couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry." She sounded miserable. "I was trying to keep you safe."

The flower girl stepped forward to peer into the other woman's face. "Are you a danger to me?" she asked. It was meant to be a tease, a playful question to get a flippant response.

Instead, she saw a glimpse of bleak pain in Tifa's expression. "Probably."

"You did your best to leave me behind," Aerith said, unshaken by her companion's answer. "Whatever happens next is because I made a choice. Okay?" Tifa nodded. "Good. We'll have to go through the wreckage of Sector 6 before we reach Sector 7. I'll show you the way." She turned and walked through the rough hole which served as an arch over the faint path, hearing Tifa follow.

Once, there had been a wide highway here running towards the center of Midgar, back when there had been no upper plate and the little towns surrounding the main city had actual names instead of numbers. Now the road was a cracked, twisted ruin, entire sections raised, lowered, or tilted, barely recognizable for what it used to be. Mechanical debris littered the broken landscape; girders and construction equipment and old rusted vehicles.

The duo was forced to climb, burrow, and tight-rope walk the various obstacle to advance down the road. Fortunately, the Sector 6 plate – damaged in a recent disaster – was still under reconstruction and the sky was open above them, allowing faint moonlight to illuminate the winding path they took. They saw no other people, and the local monstrous wildlife – mutants born of Mako pollution – left them alone, though they could hear growls and skittering in the dark on either side.

Aerith wasn't worried. She was confident Tifa could handle anything reckless enough to attack them, and she herself was far from defenseless. She fingered the green materia stone she had placed in one of her armbands, reassuring herself the magic the crystal allowed her to channel could be used when needed. By habit, she brushed one hand through her hair, feeling the other materia she kept attached to the ribbon tying back her hair.

The second stone was a pure, flawless white, almost like a pearl. She had received it from her mother – her real mother – before the woman had died. Aerith had spent years struggling to make it work, but as far as she could tell the materia didn't do anything. She kept it with her anyway, feeling safer just having it near. It was a memento if nothing else.

Ahead of them, the highway terminated in a wall of garbage formed of debris fallen from Sector 6. Aerith turned aside before they reached the barrier. She knew the way and was confident of her navigation even in the dark, though it had been a while since she had gone this way.

She glanced aside at Tifa, taking in the woman's lean yet shapely figure, emerald eyes lingering on the giant sword strapped to her back. The mercenary fascinated her. At times, she reminded Aerith of Zack, and – at others – she seemed to be the complete opposite. She was strong, but the flower girl could sense the vulnerability there, too. She had been hurt. Aerith wanted to fix her. Wanted to mend her and see who the other woman was under the mask of indifference and pain. She was good at making things blossom.

So distracted was she with her musings that Aerith didn't notice at first they had gone through the fence into a park. It had been called "Green Park" a long time ago. Once it probably had indeed been green. Now the dirt was bare, the metal of the children's swings and slides rusted and corroded, the plastic faded and stained. Still, she felt a smile light her face, imagining the park as it must have looked in its heyday.

Her hand raised to point to a wide gap in another of the ubiquitous sector-dividing walls. Surrounded by a warning pattern of alternating black and yellow was a solid iron gate. "Sector 7 is right through there." Tifa nodded, staring in the direction of the gate, but she didn't move. She hadn't said anything since they had started off together. Aerith tilted her head at the other woman. "Want to take a break?"

"Yeah…" Tifa said. She threw a quick, concerned smile at the flower girl. "Sorry, I'm just wondering how you're going to get home."

"Are you worried about me?" Aerith's tone was teasing, and she had the satisfaction of seeing her companion redden a bit. She liked this side of the mercenary. "Well don't be. I've been living down here for a long time."

"I guess." Tifa didn't sound convinced.

Aerith put her hands behind her back and strolled up to a slide still standing in the middle of the park. The slide itself was constructed as if it were the tongue coming out of the face of a stylized, hemispherical cat head. Children would climb the ladder on the side, crawl through the cat's head, and emerge through the mouth. It had been years since she had last seen it. "I can't believe it's still here," she murmured. Impulsively, Aerith climbed the ladder, eschewing the little tunnel and mounting the top of the little structure. "Come on, Tifa!"

The mercenary approached with a small, almost embarrassed smile on her face, but leapt onto the plastic cat head to take a seat next to her. Aerith shifted a bit, letting her shoulder press against Tifa's. She was warm and solid and didn't move away. They sat there in companionable silence for a minute, gazing out at the park. "What rank were you?" the flower girl asked after a time.

"In SOLDIER? I'm… I was Third-Class." Tifa let out a little huff of a laugh. "I wasn't in for very long."

"You say that like it isn't impressive. Not everyone can make it into SOLDIER, right? I imagine it's even more difficult for women."

Tifa raised her knees to wrap her arms around her legs. "It wasn't easy," she admitted. "The higher-ups want female applicants to fail. More than that, they want them to give up, to admit it was a mistake to even try. But I was driven, and I had previous training. I wanted… needed to become stronger, and SOLDIER was the path I chose." A sigh. "They let me in, gave me the Mako treatment. I thought I'd finally earn some respect, but it didn't work like that. Other people in the company – men and women both – assumed I had only been accepted because I…" the dark-haired mercenary made a face. "Well, they thought I slept my way into SOLDIER. I was barely fifteen, but it didn't matter to them."

"I'm sorry," Aerith said, turning to gaze at Tifa. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." She paused. "Did everyone treat you that way?"

"Not everyone. There were a few people who were nice."

Aerith took a breath. "Did you know any First-Class SOLDIERs?"

A muscle in Tifa's cheek twitched. "The Firsts were special. We all knew of them. I talked to a few." She looked away, caught up in her memories. "Why do you ask?"

"There was a guy… I guess you'd call him a boyfriend. He was a First." Aerith's throat ached as images of Zack's sky-blue eyes and easy smile flashed through her mind.

She felt Tifa tense up at her side. "Were you… serious?"

"Serious?" Aerith shook her head. "I don't think either of us knew what a serious relationship was. But I cared about him."

"I might've known him. What was his name?"

There was a studied casualness in Tifa's voice and Aerith hesitated. She couldn't believe it, but what if Zack had been one of the ones who had been cruel to Tifa in SOLDIER? Her earlier eagerness to see whether the mercenary knew her old boyfriend fled. She didn't want to make things awkward. "It doesn't matter. He's been gone a long time."

The sound of approaching voices put a stop to their conversation. A pair of greasy looking men appeared from the direction of Wall Market carrying a wood-and-metal barrier between them. They placed the barrier squarely in front of the iron door leading to Sector 7 and stepped away to examine their handiwork, taking no notice of the two women. Aerith twisted and could just make out the lettering written in bright spray paint:

"NO TRAFIC! NO ENTRE! BY ORDER OF DON CORNEO"

The darker skinned of the pair put a hand to his chin, looking at the sign. "Are you sure thas' spelt right, Scotch?"

"The fuck do I look like? A dictionary? 'Sides, how many slummies even know how to read?" Scotch wore shiny sunglasses even in the dark under the plate. "It don't matter anyhow. Jus' so long as no one goes to Seven for a bit."

"I s'pose," the first man said. "Did he tell you why no one's allowed in or out?"

Scotch shook his head. "He don't tell me nothing, Kotch. And you know why?"

"Cause he's the don and we're not," Kotch answered as if by rote.

"Damn straight. Let's head back. Maybe we'll get the leftovers when Corneo picks a woman tonight. I could use a little honeybee in my bed." The two men swaggered back to Wall Market, vulgarities and obscenities spilling from their mouths the whole way.

Aerith glanced at Tifa, who was staring in the direction the two lackeys had gone with narrowed red eyes. "I wonder what that was about," the flower girl said.

"Me, too. I don't like it. Something could be happening in Sector 7."

"Should we go?" Aerith began to stand.

Tifa hesitated. "Maybe… Or maybe we can get more information before we rush in." Aerith felt a surge of satisfaction in hearing her implicit inclusion in the mercenary's plans. "Can you tell me anything about this… 'Don Corneo'?"

"I can tell you a lot about Corneo," Aerith said, rolling her emerald eyes. "The man's a pig. He turned Sector 6 into his own little den of vices. Gambling, prostitution, extortion, protection rackets, the works. It's not a very safe place, especially for women. We'll have to be careful."

"I'll protect you," Tifa said, standing and offering her hand to Aerith. This time, it was the flower girl who felt her cheeks warm with a blush at her companion's off-handed statement. She took the proffered hand and rose. "Now we just have to figure out a way to get close enough to the don to make him tell us what we want to know."

Aerith grinned at the mercenary. "Actually… I might have an idea."

The dress Tifa held was soft and shimmery and seemed far too small for anyone to wear. When they had finally convinced the old man who owned the store to make their dresses and the ex-SOLDIER had specified what she needed, this wasn't quite what she had pictured. Even the violet color she'd chosen seemed brighter than she imagined. She shook her head. Far be it from her to complain. This was the slums, not Fashion Avenue in Sector 2. It was this or nothing.

With a sigh, she began tugging off her SOLDIER uniform, removing the metal pauldron covering one shoulder, the heavy bracer protecting one wrist, and the sleeveless cerulean turtleneck. The dressing room was narrow, and Tifa twisted awkwardly as she shimmied out of her boots and the baggy pants that were part of the uniform. She jumped as a pale hand slipped through the curtain dividing the tiny alcove from the rest of the clothing store. The hand held a delicate set of lingerie.

"I'm not sure what you have under your uniform, but put these on instead," Aerith's voice came from behind the curtain.

Tifa took the underwear. They also seemed too small. "Where did you even get these?"

Aerith giggled. "It's Wall Market. It's the only kind of 'finer thing' we have in this part of the slums."

The dark-haired mercenary sighed, slipping out of her utilitarian sports bra and spats. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"I didn't have a lot of opportunities to play dress-up when I was growing up."

"Makes sense," Tifa mumbled. She inhaled sharply to get the lacy bra hooked and winced. "A little tight."

"Seriously?" Aerith's voice rose in shock. "That was the biggest one I could find."

Tifa blushed. "Yeah, well… I'm used to it." She took the dress and attempted to slide the garment over her shoulders. The fabric rustled around her as she twisted and pulled it, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn't seem to find the correct opening for her head. How many holes were in this damn thing?

Her companion seemed to sense she was having problems. "Trouble?"

"Just… can't figure this thing out." She was pulling the dress back off her head to start over from scratch when she heard movement behind her and felt a warm body slip into the dressing room with her. Tifa let out a yelp. "Hey!" Her arms lifted automatically to cover her torso. Not so much to hide her breasts, but more to obscure the long scar running down her chest.

Aerith didn't even notice, laughing at her friend's predicament. "Relax, I'm here to give you a hand." She took the violet dress from Tifa with a grin. "Here's your problem…" Her slender fingers found a slider on the back of the garment and unzipped it, opening the back of the dress.

"Oh." Tifa was mortified. "That might help."

"It's okay. I guess you didn't have a lot of opportunities to dress up either." She handed the dress back to Tifa, who found it much easier to put on this time. Before the ex-SOLDIER could attempt it, Aerith's nimble fingers were already zipping the dress up.

Tifa shivered though her skin felt hot. There was an easy intimacy about the flower girl's actions that was making her dizzy. She hadn't been this close to someone in a long time. Her breathing was loud in her ears. The zipper seemed to be rising very slowly. At last, it was fully secured. "There you go." Aerith's words were warm against Tifa's neck.

"Th-thanks." She willed herself to stop blushing and turned around to face her smiling friend. "What do you think?"

"It's fantastic!" The brown-haired woman took a step back and looked Tifa up and down. "We'll have to do something about your hair, but I can help you with that."

Tifa ran her fingers through her lustrous dark hair, feeling how it was tangled and staticky from her earlier attempts to put the dress on. She could fix it herself, but… "If you don't mind."

Aerith's smile turned sly, and Tifa had the feeling the girl knew her every thought. "Of course I don't mind. Just let me get changed first." She pushed the mercenary out of the dressing room with a teasing laugh. "And no peeking."

"I wasn't going to –" Tifa shook her head. It hadn't even occurred to her to try and watch the other girl change. Now she couldn't not think about it. "Brat," she said under her breath, a small smile on her face. She turned to see the shop owner, his son, and the single other customer in the tiny clothing store staring at her. "What are you looking at?" she asked, hands on hips. They turned away as one and pretended to focus on other things.

It took much less time for Aerith to get ready, and she emerged presently in a classy red satin dress and matching shoes. She looked elegant and confident, not at all like a girl who had spent most of her life in the slums of Midgar. But then… she was always like that. Tifa remembered watching her on their trek through Sector 6, seeing the way the other woman had moved. She didn't have the slump-shouldered, closed-in walk most everyone else in the slums did. Jessie especially had a don't-touch-me kind of body language from a lifetime in close quarters to thieves, tramps, and hobos.

Not Aerith. She was different.

She realized she was staring and looked away, clearing her throat. "You look great."

"Thank you very much," Aerith chirped. "I love this color." Tifa glanced at the dress again. It was the same color as the ex-SOLDIER's eyes. She felt warm again. "We'll fix our hair, then we'll go."

When Aerith was finished, Tifa barely recognized herself in the floor-length mirror leaning against one wall. The violet dress sheathed her body, emphasizing her curves, short enough to show off her long legs. She had specified a garment that would keep her shoulders and collar covered – conscious as ever of the scar Sephiroth had given her in Nibelheim – but the tailor had put a triangular "window" in the chest, revealing an embarrassing amount of cleavage. Her thick hair was a long, dark mane behind her, loose from the dolphin-tail tie she normally kept it in. A touch of makeup completed the look, darkening her lips to a luscious red.

To her hyper-sensitive gaze, the clothes, the hair, and the makeup couldn't hide the former SOLDIER below. It was visible in her arms, where one could see her lean muscles. It was visible in her posture, more aggressive than some floozy from the Honeybee Inn. It was especially visible in her eyes, challenging and penetrating.

Aerith's reflection appeared at her side, the flower girl threading one arm under Tifa's. "Maybe we should've just busted in," the mercenary said, low enough so the other people in the store couldn't hear her. "It might have been easier."

"What's the fun of that?" Aerith asked, green eyes dancing.

Tifa's lip curled. "Fun?" The two of them were heading into the lair of the local crime boss, masquerading as would-be concubines, trying to get information on a yet-unspecified threat against Sector 7. There were several layers of danger in this situation, physical and otherwise. And yet… "You're right," she said with a nod. "This is more fun." She smiled at her companion. "Let's knock 'em dead."

A/N: Poor Tifa. For all her training, she just can't stay on balance talking to Aerith.

Next time... "Against Neighbors V: The Fall".