AN: Alright guys chapter two… I hope you like it… like I said before… chapters jump back and forth between Now and Then… hence the stories title… This is then…

Disclaimer: No I don't own it… Square Enix does… and ask anyone… I'm jealous…

Tifa watched as Rude sat down at an empty table in the crowded bar. She had been talking to Vincent who sat on a stool at the counter she was polishing, the counter she always polished unless she was getting someone a drink. It was common speculation on her bar's regulars that Tifa had a very severe case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

"Vincent, was Rude on the force when you were a Turk?" Tifa asked curiously. Why would he be here? What did a known assassin want with a run-down bar in Edge?

"No, but his brother was," Vincent replied, "For a while at least. He was just a kid, a little naïve. He didn't make it…"

"Hard to think of an assassin as naïve," Tifa smiled, trying to imagine Rude as a kid.

"Hard to think of as child as an assassin," Vincent said.

"Not him," Tifa replied, glancing in Rude's direction.

Vincent turned and saw Rude sitting in the corner silently, "Hmm, why's he here?"

Tifa shrugged, "Beats me." She paused, "I'm going to go find out." She straightened her short brown mini and took a deep breath. As she approached, she smiled nervously and said, "Do you want something?"

"Whiskey," Rude replied, as mile tugging at his lips.

Tifa nodded and turned on her heel, leaving him to sit there again.

Vincent looked up at her questioningly. Tifa shrugged in response and pulled out a frosted glass from below the counter, pouring in the whiskey. Vincent looked at her curiously until she responded with, "All he said was 'whiskey'."

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A few hours passed and the last drunken regular swaggered out of the New and Improved Seventh Heaven. One lone man sat in the darkened corner of the empty bar, waiting for the bartender to notice him.

Tifa saw him, still sitting there, but waited a few minutes, choosing instead to clean glasses. After about ten shot glasses and a few beer mugs she realized she was stalling.

She pulled out two glasses and filled them both, one with whiskey and the other with beer. Placing them down at Rude's table, she sat and inquired curiously, "Why are you here?"

Rude shrugged, "What do you mean?"

"Well obviously you're here for a reason. A Turk wouldn't walk into a bar in Edge unless they had a reason."

"I came to talk," Rude said, leaning forward in his seat.

"About what?" Tifa demanded sharply. She was terrified, but Tifa had never liked to show her fear, instead choosing to cover it up with anger.

Rude shrugged again, but didn't say anything.

"Okay, let's talk about this: Let's talk about why you're here, because if you're here to kill me," Tifa paused, pulling out her gloves and putting them on, "then you better believe I won't go down easily."

Rude chuckled softly, "That's what I like about you. You're always ready to fight."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tifa asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Every time I've had to fight you, you always seem ready, prepared," Rude smiled, "I like that."

"Why? So you know killing me will be more fun than the next moron that ends up on Shin-Ra's most wanted list?"

Rude mumbled something too low for Tifa to hear. It seemed as if this was all a game to him. Ad if he was trying to scare or anger her before he killed her, which seemed to be the only logical explanation for why he was here.

"What was that?" Tifa asked, crossing her arms.

"I can't do anything without people thinking I'm going to kill them. I can't even ask you out to dinner. I mean, can't you take the hint?"

Tifa's face turned a bright reddish color and she mumbled at a barley audible level, "You're asking me out?"

"Yes," Rude nodded, his face showing almost no expression. The glasses didn't help; they were probably covering up the only expression on his face, a small glint in his mysterious eyes.

"I… I don't… I'm not… I can't…" Tifa was shocked. I mean, what kind of a man asked their worst enemy out to dinner. What Turk in their right mind… I'm not going to finish that question. It was established long ago that no Turk was actually in their right mind.

Rude looked slightly amused when he asked, "You going to finish that sentence?"

"I'm not exactly sure how to finish that," Tifa replied truthfully. "I mean, why not Scarlet or Elena or, or, someone else?"

"I don't like them," Rude replied, "Scarlet isn't the kind of woman you would ask to dinner and Elena is with Reno and as for someone else, why anyone else?"

"What's wrong with anyone else? I'm your enemy, aren't I? Do you think we would be happy together?"

"If you're going to say no then just say it. You won't be hurting my feelings."

Tifa sighed. A rush of unidentifiable emotions was running through her, and she wasn't sure how to respond. She could say yes and go out with him, or she could say no. He was an assassin. He could kill her, and easily too. He seemed sincere though, like he really did like her. "I, I don't know."

"I didn't expect you to say yes," Rude said, standing up, "Thank you for your time."

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Tifa lay in bed that night, tossing and turning in her attempt at sleep. She had turned him down, but for what reason?

Was it because part of her still believed she and Cloud should be together? No, she was over Cloud. She had given up on daydreaming of them together. He wanted Aerith, and Tifa was sure he would have her, someday. She was tired of waiting for him, so she moved on.

Was it because Rude was an assassin? Maybe, Tifa had never been one to go out on a limb, or throw caution to the wind, and dating an assassin would be doing just that.

Or was it because she was scared? Bingo, but what was she scared of? She was scared of being killed, of getting hurt. She was mostly scared of being alone. Tifa's problem seemed to be that she thought getting close to a man inevitably led to heartbreak. Maybe she was right.

But as Tifa lay in bed she came to the conclusion that she'd never know if she never tried. She decided, as her eyelids grew heavy, that she would go out with Rude, if he ever gave her the chance to tell him she had changed her mind.