Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, any of the related characters, any of the related places, or any of the related ideas.
Summary: SephTif, set two years after AC. One day in Tifa's rebuilt Seventh Heaven, she gets a mysterious visitor. She offers him a place to stay. It turns out that this man is Sephiroth! What happens when he takes over the bar and holds Tifa captive?
Chapter 1: The Guest
Business was slow that day. That was normal for Tifa, though, as it was a Tuesday night. Since Tuesday is a weekday, many people have to go to work. She didn't mind slow days because it gave her more time to prepare for anyone else that may come in for a drink.
She'd done a lot of renovation to her home since Sector 7 was rebuilt. The main room of the bar was bigger, the cable actually worked, she'd gotten rid of the pinball machine, and she'd put in a living room that was off-limits to patrons (it was, after all, her personal living space). She now had two bedrooms—one was her own, and the other was the guest bedroom. There was only one bathroom, though, and she didn't let customers use it most of the time.
Tifa liked how her home had developed pretty well, but her customers were still her favorite part of her bar…Not because they gave her gil, though. It was because they were people, and Tifa Lockheart just liked people. The only reason she liked slow days better than busy days was because it gave her more time to think.
Wiping off the mahogany countertop with a wet gray rag for the twelfth time that evening, she sighed and glanced at the clock hanging next to her front door. It was nine o'clock…Closing time was at nine-thirty, but as no one was here at the moment except for her, she moved to grab a dry rag to dry off her countertop and sighed and the silence in the room.
All she could hear was the sound of the clock's second hand and her own movements. Two years ago, Denzel and Marlene would be in the living room by now, watching cartoons. Ten months ago, Barret decided that he wanted to live with his daughter. Since Marlene didn't want to leave Denzel behind, Barret ended up taking the both of them.
Children could really be noisy.
Tifa used to scold the children whenever they got too loud, but now nothing interesting had happened for the longest time and she would gladly welcome their noisy lifestyle with open arms.
"It's 9:10," she muttered to herself after wiping the mahogany countertop with a clean, dry white rag. "No one's here so I suppose I could close the bar now…"
As soon as she hung the dry rag back on its rack in the kitchen, she heard the door open and went to the counter almost by instinct.
The visitor wore a black cloak that looked like it was made out of leather. A hood covered his face (at least, she thought it was a he) so Tifa couldn't see the figure's eyes. A large, black leather sheath hung on his back, most likely carrying some sort of sword. He was very tall, maybe six feet, and appeared to be walking with a slight limp as he approached the counter, his slow footsteps echoing emptily on the dark wooden floor. Occasionally a floorboard squeaked below his heavy black boots.
"Hi, welcome to Tifa's Seventh Heaven, how can I help you?" Tifa asked, moving behind the cash register.
"…All I want is a drink, if you are not closing," the figure said with a deep voice that made Tifa sure that her customer was a man.
"No, I'm not closed yet. I close at 9:30 but if you're not finished by then you can stay here for a while. So what can I get for you?" the burgundy-eyed woman asked politely.
"Anything, so long as it's liquid and non-toxic."
"You're that thirsty, huh? I'll make you a special drink, then. It's my specialty, or at least it's going to be. I haven't served it to anyone but myself yet, though, so I don't exactly have a name for it," Tifa said, moving to the kitchen.
"Let's see…" She retrieved the ingredients, and mixed them together very quickly. Anyone could guess she'd been doing this for a long time. Once done fixing the drink, she poured it into a serving glass and approached the counter.
"Here you go," Tifa said, smiling as she placed it in front of the man.
"Thank you," he muttered, swallowing half the glass in one gulp from thirst.
"…Hey, are you going to take your hood down?" Tifa asked, leaning her elbows on the countertop.
The visitor finished the rest of his beverage, wiped his mouth with one gloved hand and shook his head. "…I do not think that would be a good idea."
Noticing that he finished, Tifa asked eagerly, "So what did you think of that?"
The man nodded. "It was very good," he said quietly.
Tifa couldn't help but smile, and had the feeling that her cheeks were probably a little red as well. "Are you just saying that, or do you mean it?"
"I mean it. It was very good. You will probably make a lot of gil off of it, as soon as you think of a name. Oh, speaking of gil…" He reached into his pocket. A light, metallic clinking sound signaled that his fingertips reached the metal coins known as gil. "…How much do I owe you for the drink?"
Tifa glanced at the clock. It was almost 9:45. "Nothing, it's on the house," she said with an almost secretive smile. "All of my test drinkers get their beverage for free."
"That is very kind but I cannot accept that. How much do I owe you?"
"Nothing! I promise, you owe me nothing."
"…If you insist." He withdrew his gloved hand from the depths of his pocket and rested it on the clean countertop.
"Hey," Tifa said almost shyly, glancing at him as she took the empty glass to go wash it. "I noticed that when you came in you were walking with a slight limp…"
"Ah, yes. I have been traveling for a while and I injured my leg yesterday on my way to Midgar. I managed to bandage it for the most part, but it still hurts a bit to walk on," the man explained, shifting in his seat slightly to stand up.
"Oh…Hey, where are you going to stay tonight?" Tifa asked.
"…I am sure that I will find somewhere…" the man muttered uncertainly, shifting again on the stool he was seated in.
"You can stay here for a while if you want to," Tifa offered almost eagerly. "For free, too!"
"Your offer is very kind, Tifa, but I am afraid that it would not be a very good idea for me to reside here, no matter how short my stay would be…" the man mumbled awkwardly.
"Please? I can't just let an injured man go out into the world and gain more injuries," the dark-haired woman reasoned with him. "All I ask for payment is that you let me see your face…"
"…I do not believe that it would be a good idea for you to see my face."
"Then, can you at least tell me your name?"
"…No. That would not be a good idea, either…" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and stood up. "I should go now…"
"Oh come on! At least let me see your face if you don't want to stay here," Tifa said, almost begging. She liked to know whom she was serving.
The man hesitated, turned so that he was facing the woman fully, and hesitantly reached his gloved hand up to his black hood and grabbed the back of it, but paused before he pulled it down. After a moment, he yanked the hood off of his head.
Tifa froze as silver hair fell out of the hood and blue-green, lightly glowing eyes stared at her.
"…Get out of my bar, Sephiroth," she said quietly, her body tensing automatically with fear.
Sephiroth just stared at her and ripped the hood neatly off of his cloak. "…Odd. Just a second ago you were practically begging me to stay the night…"
"That was one second ago," Tifa breathed, not realizing when she took a step backwards, pressing herself against the off-white wall behind her. I should have recognized the Masamune in its sheath. What other sword is that long, anyway? she thought.
"Miss Lockheart, does one second really change anything at all?" Sephiroth challenged, walking behind the counter to meet her, his heavy footsteps echoing almost ominously.
"It does when you know who it is you're talking to," she spat, wishing she had her Premium Heart gloves with her. Unfortunately, they were locked in her closet, piled underneath some other junk she didn't really need…
He smirked. "I assume you want me to get out now?"
"You'd assume right! Get out, I don't serve murderers here!"
Calmly, he unsheathed the Masamune and pressed the tip of it against her throat. "…What if I changed my mind? I cannot very well leave, now that someone knows that I am alive, Miss Lockheart."
She couldn't answer. She was afraid that if she said anything, her head would be severed from her neck in less than a second.
"I could merely kill you to make absolutely sure no one will know of my existence…" His smirk faded as his eyes bore into hers, trying to instill even more fear in the woman. "But then, who would I have to provide for me?"
"P-provide for yourself," she squeaked, her voice failing on her.
Sephiroth raised his eyebrows slightly, gently pressing the edge of his blade against the collar of the black blouse Tifa was wearing. "The Masamune can cut through the fabric you're wearing without me even trying. Your flesh would be no harder," he threatened softly. It was frightening, how calm his voice was.
"What do you want from me?" Tifa asked, gulping, reluctant to give in…but she didn't want to die.
"First, I want you to tell me one thing," he breathed. "…Where is Strife?"
"I haven't seen Cloud in a year. The last I heard, he was going to go find a way to revive Aeris…" Tifa mumbled, thankful for once that she didn't know where Cloud was. She didn't want her best friend to die.
"Disappointing. Where are your other little teammates?"
"N-none of them are in Midgar if that's where you're after," she said, then narrowed her eyes. "I'll never tell you where they are, though," she hissed protectively.
"Fair enough," Sephiroth said, an amused expression dancing in his blue-green eyes. "What I want you to do is close the bar for as long as I am here. Give me your cell phone. I am going to cut the phone line so you can't be reached. I am going to lock the door. You are not to leave unless I tell you otherwise. You will do as I say, or you will die."
Tifa reached into her pocket to grab her cell phone reluctantly. "…Why?" she said, fighting back tears as she handed her silver-colored flip phone to the man in front of her.
"I do not want anyone to know that I am alive, not until I am recovered from my current weak state," he said, snatching the cell phone from Tifa. Once he had a grasp on it, he broke the phone in two along the hinges. "I do not want you calling anyone for help. I know you enjoy serving the public, Miss Lockheart…" She hated the way Sephiroth said her name so mockingly. "…However, until I am ready to leave you will serve only me."
Tifa closed her eyes and nodded hesitantly, feeling sick. She had no choice.
Yumesuta: That's the first chapter. Unfortunately the following chapters may not be so long. If I get enough reviews on this chapter I'll continue it, but if I don't get enough I won't continue the fic. I hope you all liked it, and please review!