Strawberry Wine
by: Pollensalta

Chapter Three

With a deep intake of breath, Tifa made her way over to the cornered booth where the familiar redheaded Turk sat. The intense scent of spicy aftershave tickled her nostrils when she neared him. Alluring smell or not, she still couldn't push out the dreadful memory that was the end of Sector Seven.

* * * *

You're too late Once I push this button

Tifa's ruby eyes widened and her mouth fell agape in horror as Reno dispassionately depressed the button. The button that would activate the dropping of the plate that hung over Midgar's Sector Seven. Dozens of people were going to die.

Tifa wouldn't have that. Sector Seven was her home. She couldn't idly stand by and watch it fall to pieces. But she couldn't harm her friend, either. Yes, Reno was her friend. _Was_ being the key word He was a part of the enemy and though she didn't want to admit it, she knew the days of Reno and Rude frequenting her bar, with the former making jokes and the latter making blunt yet comical statements, were completely over.

She shrieked. We have to disarm it! Cloud! Barret! Please!

I can't have you do that, Reno said. No one gets in the way of Reno and the Turks.

The redhead extracted a nightstick, his favored weapon, from within the insides of his navy blazer. He rested the cold hard steel against his left shoulder and beckoned the trio of Tifa, Cloud, and Barret with his right hand, sneering. It made Tifa hiss.

Driven by a rage she never knew she possessed, Tifa was the first one to throw the blows during the fight, having an advantage over teammates in terms of speed. Even though her fist delved roughly into his cheek and instigated a discoloration in that handsome face, Reno made no attempt in attacking her and focused on Cloud and Barret instead. His Turk Pyramid kept her from approaching him, though, until one of Barret's stray bullets pierced the golden trap Tifa was placed in and released her with no harm done.

By that time, however, Reno had stopped fighting altogether. And though he suffered a pretty large gash on his flank thanks to Cloud's sword, he seemed composed and perhaps even proud of himself. Coolly, he gazed at his Rolex. It's time

And with that, Reno had quickly departed the scene, leaving Cloud, Barret, and Tifa to deal with the reality that Sector Seven was finished.

* * * *

Tifa and her friends had escaped Sector Seven with their lives, luckily. When they had finally sought rest in the home of Elmyra Gainsborough, a myriad emotions and questions permeated through Tifa's mind. Guilt—she believed the burden of the death of the people of the sector fell upon the shoulders of AVALANCHE. Regret—if the rebels hadn't terrorized' Shinra, would that have changed anything? Anger—Reno was supposed to be her friend; how could he have done such a thing?

Are you going to stand there all night, staring off into outer space?

Reno's voice brought her out of her reverie. She quickly glanced towards him and was met with a pair of striking eyes. Unlike Cloud's deep blues, Reno's favored peridot, and combined with the Mako, it took on a tint of aquamarine.

Oh. I get it. Reno blinked as he leaned further back into the squishy leather seat of the booth, folding his arms.

One of Tifa's eyebrows inclined. What do you mean?

He gestured for her to sit across from him and she did, hesitating at first. You're probably thinking about why in the Hell did I buy you that bottle of strawberry wine, right?

Although the concept didn't occur to Tifa prior to his inquiry, it did strike her as unusual, if not flattering, that Reno would go out of his way to buy her such a rarity. Why _did_ he buy her that, anyway?

Kinda sorta, she replied. She attempted to seem calm and relaxed by imitating his slouchy posture in her own seat.

Kinda sorta'?

Tifa sighed. Reno, I don't know if you were born again yesterday, but as far as I'm concerned, the events of last year wouldn't exactly lead me to think that you're trying to lick old wounds by buying me something like this. She tipped her chin at the bottle that rested on the table that separated her from the Turk. So what exactly are you trying to imply here?

What? You mean I can't lick old wounds?

I didn't say that.

But that's what you implied. And that's what I'm trying to do-lick wounds, that is, the redhead replied.

All right, so what you're saying is, you want to let bygones be bygones? she asked. Reno nodded. Why not just write a letter of apology or something?

What can I say? I have shitty handwriting, Tifa.

Tifa rolled her eyes.

The Turk shrugged at the incredulous tone of her voice and reached within his jacket's pockets for a pack of cigarettes and a magenta lighter. With a flick of his thumb, the zippo ignited the tobacco stick in between his perfect lips. He took a deep, long drag and blew out the smoke in a direction away from the brunette seated across from him.

Tifa watched this and with a tone to match her deadpanned face told him: You can't smoke in here.

Reno shrugged again.

Tifa stood from her place and leaned her lithe figure over the surface of the table to pluck the cigarette from Reno with her fingers. You're _not_ supposed to smoke in here. Even Cid Highwind isn't allowed to smoke in here, she told him, a smirk forming on her lips.

Reno allowed the cigarette to be taken away from him and in response, his eyebrows wiggled. That made Tifa's smug grin melt away. she asked.

No further warnings were given and Reno got to his feet, slightly bending over at the waist so that his face was right in front of Tifa's, his lips just centimeters away from her own. The temperature on the surface of Tifa's skin skyrocketed. And when she felt his chocolaty breath, her fair skin reddened instantly. Needless to say, she looked taken aback and maybe even nervous. Reno noticed this.

He smirked.

She watched as his eyes traveled over her face, using their proximity as an advantage to capture her beauteous features into his memory, until they stopped at her mouth. She heard his clothes rustle as he inched closer to her with his head careening to the side. Tifa's entire body stiffened and she screwed her eyes shut, feeling him moving in on her. Holy Shiva, he was going in for the kill Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. And then

His lips did not brush against her own, contrary to what she had initially imagined. Instead, his cheek brushed along the side of her heated face and he leaned in, letting out a chuckle that tickled against her ear. She shivered some. You're just dying to know why I got you that wine, aren'tcha?

Flustered and still red in the face, Tifa quickly pulled back away from Reno and slumped into her seat. Of course I am, Reno. The Hell do you think I came here for?

The Turk laughed as he lowered himself into his seat. This made the brunette peeved and she frowned at him before grabbing the bottle of wine and prepared to leave. Reno's hand blanketed her own, preventing her from doing so. She tensed and looked back to him. All traces of his smugness evaporated. I'm serious, Lockheart, he said, softly. Do you _really_ want to know?

Reno nodded once and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. He toyed with the silky ribbon wrapped about the neck of the wine bottle, staring out of the café's window at the gentle, falling snow. Well, you know that song you sang on Open Mic Night last Wednesday?

Tifa thought about it for a moment before nodding. Strawberry Wine, right?

Again, Reno nodded, looking towards her.

Then the thought smacked her across the head. How do you know about that?

I was here.

You were?

I shit you not. Tifa opened her mouth to speak but Reno continued on. I didn't say anything cause I figured you wouldn't care-and I didn't think about coming back here anyway. I mean, shit, cafés aren't my sort of place. I'm a bar type of guy in case you didn't notice. But anyway, I must say that the song you sang, no matter how old it is, had some sort of impact. I don't know what kind, though. Guess it's why I came back here every other night since then.

You came here every other night?

S'what I said, right?

Reno wh—

Just then, the bubbly voice of a certain cherry-haired waitress broke into their conversation. Sorry to butt in, you two, but I got bad news for ya. We're about to close up shop here in about five minutes.

They're already closing? Tifa glanced to her wristwatch. 11:54 pm. We've been talking for over an hour and a half?

Alright then, Soleil. Thanks. For everything, Tifa said as she buttoned the snaps of her black velvet coat and fixed her charcoal colored scarf.

Soleil winked. You stoppin' by the day after tomorrow?

I don't think she is, Reno interrupted. She and I have plans.

Oh really? Soleil asked with a smirk, oblivious to the sharp and venomous glare Tifa gave Reno. And just what kind of plans do you two have?

Again, Tifa was interrupted by Reno. Oh, you know, a simple date. That sort of thing, the male redhead replied casually, regarding Tifa with a casual shrug when she shot him another glare.

He mouthed a towards her and Soleil didn't notice. She was too preoccupied with nudging her elbow into Tifa's side. Best of luck to ya then.

With a wink, Soleil departed, disappearing into the employees lounge in the back of the café while the other patrons of the Kalm Kup began to leave. Tifa sought to join them. She gave Reno one last scowl before hurrying to the door and heading out into the evening air.

Hey Tifa! Wait up!

Screw off, Reno! she snapped as she marched down the slush-covered sidewalks of Kalm. She picked up her angry stride upon feeling him run up to catch up with her.

Oh come on! Don't tell me you're pissed off at what I told that waitress!

Tifa suddenly stopped in her tracks and glared at him. Of course I'm pissed off! she practically shouted into his face. How dare you go ahead and do something like that!

I was just—

I don't give a flying fuck, Reno!

Reno was genuinely taken aback. During the few months before the demise of Sector Seven, the Turk had seen Tifa deal with more than a few hooligans that had somehow made their way into her bar. Oftentimes, she'd give them a verbal warning or a mighty shove that would send them straight out of the door. But then there were the times when about three unlucky fellows had pushed the wrong buttons. The bruises and shattered egos of those men proved that behind her gentle exterior, Tifa was quite a sight to see when she was truly angered. But he had never seen her so angry. The date comment must have been the straw that broke the camel's back.

He was intrigued. You said fuck.

No shit!

And shit.

Tifa saw no further reason to stick around the redhead anymore. She threw her arms up into the air in exasperation and stomped off in the direction of her home.

Reno's hands lashed out and ensnared tightly about her bicep, keeping her at bay and pulling her close to him. Chill out babe! I was only joking!

Tifa tried to wiggle herself free from his grip, but to no avail. Despite his lanky looks, Reno was actually powerful. Let me go!

Look. I'm sorry...

Several pedestrians witnessed what went on between the two but said nothing of it. Apparently, this sort of thing was nothing out of the ordinary in the streets of Kalm nearing midnight. Reno released the red-faced Tifa and she huffed, gathering her coat closer to her shapely form. I can't believe you told her that. What the Hell is the matter with you?

I don't know, the Turk mumbled, scratching the nape of his neck through his hair. I assumed you'd see nothing wrong with that and maybe even play along. I didn't think you'd go apeshit

Well, you know what happens when you _assume_.

Ass outta you and me, blah blah blah. I heard this all before. No need to beat the horse anymore. It's dead. One of Reno's hands waved to and fro, dismissively. So are you?

Am I what? Tifa asked.

Are you going to let me take you out?

My, he was straightforward. Tifa's eyebrows creased together as she eyed him suspiciously. You're serious, she said, rather than asked.

A pair of hands fell upon the woman's shoulders. Of course I am.

I don't know about this

Perfectly natural, Reno said with an accepting nod, removing his hands. That amazed her. She assumed he'd get on his knees and beg for her to take him out. But then again, Reno was never one to do so. He was too proud to beg. Hell, he was too proud period. What was that line about assuming again?

If you're not ready to go out with me yet, then I'll respect your decision and wait for you to make up your mind, he added.

Those words appalled Tifa.

Reno's actions surprised her even more when he slightly hunched his form over with a curtsy, one arm extended and all. At least let me take you home? Kalm's no longer a safe town you know.

Though she was more than capable of taking care of herself, Tifa couldn't resist

~Fin?~

Disclaimer: All characters here are properties of their respective owners. I'm not making money out of this. And the song Strawberry Wine belongs to My Bloody Valentine (One version of it, anyway), and Pat Benatar (the other version).

Author's Notes: Urgh. For some reason, I am not satisfied with this chapter (more so than usual)—writing it was like pulling teeth. Please let me know what you guys think! I live for reviews and e-mails!