Chapter 30

Blocking

He wasn't bristling with jealousy. Shooting at mountainside boulders was a healthy way to blow off steam and frustration. He was tired of interference, intentional and otherwise. Demons, work, haunting exes, and overly concerned friends thwarted his plans and blocked him from courtship. Did people still use that term?

The sun disappeared behind the mountains, and darkness shrouded his impromptu target practice. He holstered Cerberus and inspected his handiwork with preternatural eyes. The defacement he blasted into the earth, rock and stone mirrored his feelings, fragmented and chipped from outside forces he couldn't control.

Simon had given him six shots, to begin with, and he had three remaining. They worked as well as could be expected, but thankfully the powder granted him time. And Simon was right. Plunging himself directly into his painful memories lately stoked fears of starting something new with another woman. Having his history with Lucrecia suddenly thrust into his present set his worries and emotions aflame. His nerves were burnt raw. Reliving the past had triggered the anxieties he'd felt when he first learned of Hojo and Lucrecia's plans for their child and their utter moral indifference. Those same concerns had turned to horror after he woke in a Mako container and found himself brimming with corruption and abomination in his veins.

But Simon's drugs were helping him with self-control. Over the last week, he'd adjusted himself to regain some semblance of his former influence over the demons. Vincent still needed time to reclaim command of the transformations, but the meds offered him a crutch until he learned to calm himself with these new feelings. And hopefully, the WRO and ShinRa would complete this search into the past soon with his help.

Vincent descended the mountainside slowly, delaying his inevitable return to an empty house and solitary dining, which would propel him into a tailspin of dejection. His only respite was meaningless tasks designed to distract his mind. He set off toward Edge at a leisurely pace, frustrated that his sole reason for heading to Seventh wouldn't be there.

Vincent had realized months ago that his every waking, non-working moment was spent thinking of Tifa when he wasn't with her. Or at least, his thoughts would invariably drift to her, no matter what other dilemmas he worried about, and which had only worsened since learning of her upcoming date. Then seeing the man talking to her in the labs, Vincent had felt murderous, far more intense jealousy than he'd felt after Lucrecia chose Hojo. But, of course, that was merely a surprise rejection, and he'd let her go to the scientist without complaint. The ensuing tragedy of their union had nothing to do with Vincent losing out on love, even though their decisions haunted him.

Now he didn't want to give up without a fight; Tifa was more than worth it. A friend first and foremost whose warm heart and sincere interest in him stirred his affections like no other. He'd missed her in the last couple of weeks since he'd denied himself her company. Missed not only her genuine smile and pretty eyes, but the conversations, talking to her and sharing secrets he'd never considered revealing to another. And he wanted to know more of her and what hopes she might have for a future and the possibility of him in it. Vincent wanted to be aggressive and challenge the man who was probably now winning her smiles and gentle laughter.

Problem is that Vincent is a gentleman, and Tifa wouldn't appreciate him crashing her date—but man, that urge was bullying him like a raging behemoth.

The outskirts of town came into view just as his phone vibrated with a notification. His pulse quickened as hope filled his heart, thinking of the last message she sent with a cute picture.

A message from Yuffie in the group chat deflated his hopefulness, irritating him that the thread was initiated for the night.

Yuffie—Did I leave my shuriken cleaning kit in the hangar? Or did Denzel pick it up?

Cid—How the hell should I know?

Yuffie—It's your hangar! Did you see it?

Barret—Didn't I tell you to stop letting Denz touch those things?

Cid—If it's here then finders keepers. I ain't keeping track of what you brats leave behind!

Yuffie—He's almost a man, Barret! He needs to know how to handle weapons and dodge! You want him to learn on the streets?

Barret—That's my business! I don't want no more knives stuck in his shin like last time!

Yuffie—That wasn't my fault! Blame his parents! There's three of you, and no one is teaching him a thing!

A devious smile stretched on Vincent's face. Tifa wasn't the type to ignore messages. And thanks to Yuffie, it could be a hundred messages and hours later when they would stop.

The messages continued as his phone flashed a low battery notification. He didn't care if the device died and started walking again. It was nearly 9 o'clock, and he was still more than an hour from Edge at this pace. Vincent quickened his stride and considered taking a detour to get dinner. Maybe she would be home by then.

"Yo, Teefs!"

Shit! Tifa's unsteady fingers slipped, smearing lipstick on her chin. The sudden greeting outside her bathroom door didn't help her shaky hands and spiraling nerves.

"You in there?" Rikku's voice called from the hallway as Tifa wiped off a layer of lipstick. She didn't even know why she was trying; consenting to the date only served to appease Yuffie and Shera.

She'd angled to lose the meddling ninja when the airship landed, claiming that Kunsel needed help with Cissnei and accompanied them to the maternity ward. Had she known Yuffie would pop up in labs, Tifa would've headed straight home. Instead, the younger woman cornered her with the prospective date in tow, and Tifa felt obligated to agree. But maybe if she treated this as a favor to her friends, they'd back off and leave her be once the date ended with disappointment.

Rikku tapped on the bathroom door. "Hey, boss. Uh—I think you got a date downstairs. You up for this, or you want me to stand in? Cause he's kinda hot."

Tifa wrenched the door open and glared at her bartender. "I'll spare you the heartache, Rikku, and go myself," Tifa said. "Would you mind giving him a light drink on the house? He's a little early, and I'm not quite finished dressing."

Rikku snorted as her eyes traveled from Tifa's head to toes. "Oh, I dunno, Teefs. I'd say he'd think you were just dressed enough in that tiny little robe." Rikku bent her head slightly and peered at Tifa's backside, whistling lewdly as she reached out to poke. "I bet he'd like—"

Tifa swatted Rikku's hand away and shoved her out of the bathroom. "Get outta here and get his drink!" Tifa gently scolded. "You're as bad as Yuffie!"

"Pfft! That little ninja's got nothing on my perverted nature, Teefs. Trust me."

Tifa mischievously slapped Rikku on the ass as the bartender skipped away, Rikku playing along with a tilted hip and cheeky grin. Tifa laughed at the girl's antics before returning to her cosmetics and attire.

The conservative blue frock she'd chosen for the night was demure and in no way provocative. Giving off those vibes wasn't on the table. But the dress was pretty, and she didn't get the opportunity to dress up often.

She donned the dress and looked herself over in the mirror. Makeup done with more color than usual, hair half lifted, showing off her ears and jawline, modest clothing down to her knees—all done. She still wasn't sure about the shoes. Confining her feet in all those straps would mean she wouldn't be able to simply slip them off at the end of the night, and the 4-inch heel would assure sore feet. But just one night wouldn't kill her.

With a deep sigh, she resigned herself to merely get through the evening and dragged herself downstairs. It was already past 9 p.m., and only a few patrons hung out in the bar.

"Oh here," Rikku said, handing Tifa her phone. "You left this down here earlier. You might need it—like for calling me if you need back up!"

Tifa snatched her phone from Rikku and gave her a mock glare. "I'll keep that in mind." She set her phone to silent and shoved it into her purse. Now, where's this hot date?

Shad Taggert waited on a stool, inspecting his image in the mirror behind the bar. He examined his profile on each side as long fingers combed through his mousy brown hair, a slight pucker to his lips. Then, he rolled his large shoulders and glanced down at his flexing biceps. Appearing satisfied with himself, he set elbows on the counter and sipped his drink as he scanned the room. His eyes widened when he finally noticed her.

"Wow! You're a knockout!" Shad said with a sleazy, wolfish grin.

"Um, thanks, Shad," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't travel to her eyes. "You look nice, too." Tifa fought an urge to roll her eyes at the tufts of chest hair peeking out from his teal-colored silk shirt, secured only by the last few buttons in the same ridiculous fashion Reno was infamous for sporting.

"Thanks, babe."

They hadn't even made it to dinner, and he'd already chosen an unwitty pet name for her. Oh, she was going to loathe tonight, but she didn't correct the moniker. Let's just get this over with!

"Shall we?" She held out a hand toward the door, and he ushered her with a hand at her lower back. The intimate touch spurred her feet so that she sped away from his reach.

He chuckled when he caught up to her on the porch and replaced his hand. Great.

"I know a great vegan place a couple of blocks from here. We can walk unless you don't wanna ruin your heels." Shad glanced down at her feet then let his gaze travel upward. Tifa suddenly regretted even this outfit and considered shooting upstairs to change into sweatpants.

The streets bustled with evening revelers, forcing Tifa to accept Shad's closer proximity as they were squeezed together in the throng. He fell into step beside her, swaggering with a playboy bounce that only missed a finger-snap and wink to appear absurd. And worse, he rudely ogled scantily clad women clacking by in their stilettos for nearby clubs, going so far as to peer over his shoulder at a few who earned his second notice.

College kids packed the restaurant, spruced up in finery for a night on the town. Her date's lothario antics continued as he blatantly gawked at bare legs and shoulders. Finally, he led her to a table, positioning himself so that he could fully view the room. The server couldn't show up soon enough, and when he finally did, Tifa silently raged when Shad ordered for her.

"Don't worry, babe. The Banora apple salad is about the only thing here that's edible. You'll like it," he said with a wink.

"Why come here if you don't like the food?" As a restaurant owner, Tifa knew good food was crucial for attracting customers. And she prided herself on her diverse menu, studying the dishes she'd come across during her world travels, as well as the local Midgar favorites in her younger days. If the fare were too specialized, most customers would choose an alternative eatery.

"Look around! Me and a buddy found this place a few months ago," he said, leaning in to whisper. "It's a favorite of the girl's dance team at the city college, and they always say yes when asked to cuddle." He jiggled his eyebrows at her before dropping his focus to her chest. "But don't worry, babe. You have my full attention."

Her skin crawled. This is who Yuffie thought would be a good match?

Tifa crossed her arms and leaned forward, blocking his view and appreciating her forethought to keep her cleavage covered. Gaping was something she was accustomed to, but most men at least tried to be inconspicuous.

The server took an eternity to return to the table and left too soon after bringing their drinks.

"Mm, rowanberry wine. It's not Cactaur juice, but it's better than that organic non-alcoholic shit they serve here," Shad said, then swallowed a generous portion. He regarded her with a curious glint. "So, tell me. What's a chick like you doing running a bar? I hear you're like some warrior ninja or something."

Sharing details about her personal life was not a conversation she wanted to get into with Shad, but this topic seemed innocent enough. She shrugged her shoulders and began, "It's not so bad. I like talking to people, and I'm a fairly good cook. Before Meteor, I ran a bar in Sector 7 and—"

"You were a platie?" he asked, surprise permeating his tone. "I never would've guessed."

As offensive as his remark was, Tifa let the insult roll off her shoulders. There was a post-Meteor pride among slum survivors, especially the few from Sector 7. She opened her mouth to correct him, but he quickly forgot her story and launched into his own background.

"I grew up in Junon, myself. My parents still live there, but I decided to move here last year and joined the WRO." How lucky for him, both parents still alive. "I'm a tech in the pharmacy. It's not so bad. The pay is good, and they don't notice if a few pills go missing now and again. Know what I mean?" Great, he's an honest employee, too. "I don't sell it; just help out a few friends when they're in need. I have a lot of SOLDIER friends who need the occasional pick-me-up. They appreciate having a guy like me around—" And now he's bragging about having enhanced friends. Too bad he doesn't know what a tool he is.

Shad droned on, oblivious to her boredom and the tilt of her head as she looked around the room. Tifa recognized a few friends of her bartenders. They usually stopped by Seventh late on nights like this, probably hoping to get a free drink.

Her bar probably wasn't seeing many customers tonight. Everyone seemed to be on this side of town. Nights like this had become her favorite when Vincent would show. Fewer patrons meant more time with him. She could learn more about him and feel worthy when he wanted to know more about her, too. Such a stark difference from this present experience. One that she'd rather not endure and instead wait at her place on the chance Vincent did come back.

Tifa considered sending Vincent a message, like the ones she'd sent the last few months before he somewhat ghosted her.

"See? Not so bad, right?"

The food had arrived while she crowd-watched and thought of another man. Shad's plate was nearly empty, and her salad remained untouched. How long had he been talking and eating without noticing she wasn't paying attention? At least she had something to do. Listening to her date talk about himself was about as fascinating as watching paint dry.

The table rattled when her date slammed his napkin down with a closed fist. "You done? I thought we would head next door for some music."

Greenery and apple chunks still filled most of her salad bowl, and Tifa huffed in frustration. She ignored his question and continued eating, not wanting to go anywhere else with him for music or otherwise. But she was going to finish her food!

"Oh, you're not done? Ok, then. I'll be right back." Shad shook the table again as he stood up. Tifa watched him retreat to the bathroom in relief. This was the worst date she'd ever been on, not that she'd ever had many. But even Johnny was more fun and interesting the one time she agreed to go out with him.

The salad was tasty, and Tifa considered adding a similar dish to her menu. She removed her phone from her purse and took a picture of her bowl, captioning the list of ingredients she recognized. Most didn't ask for vegan meals, but she might draw more customers if she added a few options. And this salad would pair well with steak and vegetables.

Tifa typed out her ideas to recall later and then checked her messages, seeing quite a few unread.

Cloud—Getting Shalua out of the labs for a bit. Call if you need me.

Tifa scoffed. Cloud informing her of his plans was a new development. In the past, he rarely answered when asked for his whereabouts or when he'd return, let alone offered the information without prompt. Not that she would begrudge Cloud his newfound friendship or whatever his connection with Shalua might lead to. The scientist was having a positive effect on him. But it was Cloud's continued insensitivity toward Tifa that still sometimes rankled her. Even their friendship was on his terms.

Tifa let go of her negative thoughts on Cloud. He wasn't the cause of her foul mood, and her mind was lashing out unfairly. She messaged Cloud back that she would wait up for him so they could chat. He'd have to confess eventually.

She focused on another thread from her bartenders, praying a fight didn't break out in her bar while she wasn't there.

Rikku—Teefs! This place is dead! Kill me, too!

Terra—Sorry for bugging you on your date, Tifa! But folks left for some new club by the college. 7th is empty.

Rene—Great! My one night shift this week and crap for tips! Ugh!

Anytime a new club or restaurant opened in Edge, the number of customers at Seventh slackened for a couple of weeks. Tifa surmised the new club might not be too far from where she sat. She could suggest a detour and make something of this night yet.

Tifa—Sorry for the slog, guys. Where is this new club?

Terra—It's a block from my apartment. Right next to that bakery we found the chocolate Chocobo candies. Remember?

Tifa—Gotcha. Go ahead and start closing. I doubt you'll get more tonight.

Rikku—Whoop! Thanks, Teefs!

Her phone flashed with more notifications in the AVALANCHE group chat, dozens of messages unread from the last couple of hours. Probably some non-drama with Yuffie or Cid. That could be dealt with later.

She tucked the device back into her purse just as Shad returned.

"So? Finally finished?" He asked, a little impatiently.

"Yeah, do you mind if we go to this new place down the street? I hear everyone's there tonight, and I'd like to size up the competition."

"You like to mix business with pleasure, huh?" he drawled and wrapped a slithery arm around her waist as she stood. Tifa swallowed the instinct to retch, heading for the exit, again with enough speed to slide out of his hold.

"You're a slippery little thing, aren't ya?" Shad said when he joined her on the street outside.

"I'm not a thing!" She snapped.

"Whoa, hey. Ok, babe. Just joking with you," he said and tucked his hands in his pockets. "Maybe we should get a few drinks and loosen up. Whaddya say?"

"Actually, yeah. That sounds like a good idea," Tifa responded, only slightly less hostile.

"Good to hear!" Shad's grin widened, and he looped an arm through hers. "Is this ok, at least?"

Her annoyance with him eased marginally, and she nodded, agreeing for the moment to be friendly as they walked arm in arm down the busy street. She arrived unmolested at the new club in minutes, blanketed in light from the bright neon sign.

"Pilferer's Club?" Tifa sounded out the name, thinking it similar to an old pub she'd heard of in Sector 5. They squeezed inside an entryway overflowing with people.

"Looks like this is the place to be! You want a booth?" Shad politely asked.

"Why don't we sit at the bar?" Tifa suggested, not wanting to ruin Shad's more gentlemanly demeanor by trapping herself in a confined space with him.

"Suit yourself," Shad replied with a hint of disappointment, and he led the way to the counter. Most stools were taken, but he at least offered her an empty seat and politely stood next to her as she ordered.

"What can I get you?" the bartender shouted over the din of music.

"Surprise me!" Tifa yelled back, and the bartender winked at her before raising his chin at Shad.

"Uh, I'll have whatever's on tap and a shot of Mako Silver if you have it."

Tifa scrutinized the club, noting multiple dance floors, flashing strobe lights, and pumping techno-pop blasting from the speakers. This was a different kind of place than hers, which appealed to those typically seeking conversation and a few bar games. Seventh wasn't really set up for dancing, though patrons were known to find the limited space between tables on rowdier occasions.

"A Summer Meteor," the bartender shouted, setting the lime green drink before her.

Tifa nodded her thanks and took a long drag from the glass, the bartender watching in anticipation. Finally, she slammed the glass down and grinned wide. "Mm, that's delicious! What's your secret?"

"Nothing but whiskey and lime," he jokingly lied to her with a lopsided grin.

"What else you got?" She countered, completely forgetting her lousy date for a moment.

"Hm, let's see what you think of this one." And the bartender mixed her another drink.

"Hey, you wanna hit the floor or just sit here and drink?" Shad asked, irritation lacing his tone.

"One more drink, ok?" Tifa carefully watched her cocktail evolve, noting the bottles poured and how many ice cubes were thrown into the tumbler before counting out two shakes.

The bartender offered the sparkling cocktail. She accepted it with a 'cheers' and knocked it back.

"Mm! I'm impressed! How about something standard? Cosmo Canyon?" Tifa said with a challenge in her smile.

"Coming right up." After a minute, he presented her drink and smirked as she sipped it more leisurely. She was already feeling the effects of the first two concoctions.

"You can knock 'em back, girl! How many is that four? Five?" Shad asked and sidled closer.

"Three. I'm just trying to get a taste for their drinks," Tifa replied icily. "Sometimes, I learn new recipes by tasting cocktails at other bars."

"Whatever," he said and asked for another beer. Tifa rolled her eyes at his disinterest. The dancefloor didn't particularly appeal to her, and Shad wasn't keen on learning what did. So, she was content to sip her drink and spy on the bar while he cradled a beer in each hand, otherwise disregarding her as he watched the parade of skimpily clothed college girls bounce past.

The clientele ordered a myriad of cocktails, cordials, and exotic beers, all of which the bartender was well versed in serving. He probably worked at one of the higher-end establishments on the plate before Meteor. When Tifa finished her Cosmo, he set another in front of her with another wink. "This one's on the house. From one barkeep to another."

"That obvious, huh?" Tifa asked.

The bartender lifted a shoulder and grinned to one side. "Not at first, but I can tell when someone's taking inventory."

"Guilty!" Tifa smiled back and tipped her drink to him in camaraderie. She turned in her seat to finally accept the dance with her date, having, as he suggested, loosened up. It was at that moment she realized Shad had left her side. She searched but couldn't locate him in the crowd. Maybe he made another bathroom trip.

More clubgoers pushed their way to the counter and ordered drinks. Her new friend met the demand without breaking a sweat, making several fancy cocktails that even she had never heard of.

The music blared relentlessly throughout the club, and Tifa's head began to pound to the beat. Her date hadn't yet returned, and she'd been sitting alone at the bar for almost 20 minutes. Tifa eyed the club for the bathrooms, tapping her foot impatiently. As soon as he returned, she would feign exhaustion and leave. No point in dragging this out longer.

She faced the bartender again. "Sorry, but could you tell me where the rest—"

"He's over there," the bartender said, pointing over her shoulder.

Tifa followed his finger to the dance floor and sucked in a breath in shock at the sight of her date grinding lewdly against another woman. The two of them were joined by another female, who fell into rhythm behind him, all three oblivious to the small audience their show garnered. Tifa couldn't imagine a better excuse to end the date. She whipped back toward the counter and finished off her drink.

"How much?" she asked, no longer caring to hide her annoyance.

"That's 56 Gil, not including his beer," the bartender said. When she counted the money and handed it to him, he grabbed her hand and squeezed her fingers. "Hey, sorry about your night. You deserve better. He comes in here a lot with his friends and never with the same girl twice."

"Don't worry about it. It wasn't going to work out anyway," she said with a shrug. Tifa waved to the bartender and left the club, glad to be out of the crowd and heading home.

The walk back was peaceful, with fewer people loitering the streets. Still, she picked up her pace, not wanting to walk around alone at night. Tifa never worried about protecting herself, but she didn't intend on inviting danger. Edge could be as dangerous as the slums late at night, and she'd already had too much to drink. Nevertheless, the jaunt back was more pleasant without her date, who probably hadn't even noticed her absence.

By the time she made it a block from Seventh, the hour was nearly midnight, and the roads were finally empty. Tifa couldn't wait to take off the heels and quench her thirst with a full glass of water. The long walk had left her sober, dehydrated, and with aching feet.

She rounded the last corner when she heard pounding footsteps behind her.

"Tifa! Hey! Wait up!" Shad raced toward her, breathless and with his teal silk shirt missing a button and hanging off a shoulder. She groaned at the sight of him, lamenting how close she'd come to locking herself behind closed doors.

"I looked all over for you!" he said, finally catching up as she made it to Seventh and grabbing onto her arm. "The bartender said you left all mad and shit."

Tifa snatched her arm from his grasp. "I wasn't mad at all, Shad. It was just time to leave," she replied and turned back toward her home.

"Aww, come on," he said, trying to seize her hand. "I thought we had fun, and it looked like you were loosening up."

"Um, yeah. I guess so. It was nice," Tifa lied. Even though she didn't like him, she didn't want to be mean to Yuffie's friend. She'd never hear the end of it. "Look, Shad. You seem like a—guy who—um—" Tifa fumbled for anything to say to get rid of him.

"You don't have to say anything. Hey, I'm sorry I was dancing with those other chicks, but it looked like all you wanted to do was drink. Had I known that we could've gone back to my apartment and just—"

"That wasn't the problem, Shad. Let's just call it a night for now. Ok?" Tifa stepped onto her porch and fumbled for her keys.

Shad hopped next to her. "Why don't I make it up to you. Huh? Let's go inside and have another drink or two. I think we clicked, all except until you left without saying anything. But I can forgive that."

He drew nearer, and she had to place a hand on his chest to stop his advance. His eyes flashed at hers with a drunken leer at her mere touch, and he put his hand over hers.

"I don't think so, Shad," she declined, once again snatching her hand free. "Honestly, I'll be too busy to date much in the future, but I had a nice time. Thank you for dinner."

"Come on, don't be like that," Shad cajoled, and she recoiled at the alcohol on his breath as he closed the distance between them. "Hey, I get the good girl routine. It can be a turn-on—not gonna lie. I'm into roleplay. You pretend to say no, and I ignore it."

He once again grabbed at her arm, pulling her toward his chest. His audacity caught her off-guard, and Tifa clumsily lurched off-balance at his unexpected strength, her soles and heels digging into the porch with a loud grinding. Her momentum suddenly halted as a sandal heel wedged itself between the floorboards of the porch, immobilizing her leg and gluing her in place. Dammit!

Shad reached up, taking advantage of her dilemma as he tried to caress her. "I like a girl with big—"

Tifa knocked him back forcefully with an open palm strike to his chest, sending him tripping down the steps and sprawling into the dirt.

"Leave before things get unpleasant," she said through clenched teeth, jerking at her leg to free her foot.

Shad glowered at her from the ground and jumped to his feet. He stormed back up the steps and unexpectedly dodged Tifa's right hook. With a leg stuck in place, Tifa teetered off-balance, toppling forward enough to allow Shad the advantage. He snatched at her wrist and used the momentum of her missed punch to twist her arm behind her back in a painful arm restraint. His other arm wrapped around her, locking her left against her abdomen.

Pressing her tight to his chest, Shad kicked her unrestricted leg out before he hooked a knee around her thigh and squeezed her like a python. She cried out as the action twisted her foot, and sharp pain radiated through her ankle joint.

"Hahaha," he laughed as she tried to wrench free, and Tifa gnashed her teeth in indignation. No way a guy like this—

"Aargh!" Tifa screamed in rage and pain as he hoisted her arm higher and gripped the other wrist tighter in a vice. She could barely move with both legs and arms so bound.

"What's the matter?" he creepily murmured in her ear. "Where's this kickboxer I heard so much about?"

Tifa gritted her teeth and slammed her head backward, catching Shad on the nose and eliciting a high-pitched yelp from him.

Tifa lurched forward as he released her. She awkwardly bowed at the waist to break her fall with her hands, the alternative a broken ankle since her foot was still stuck. She watched Shad stumble into the doorway, hands covering his face. He lowered his fingers and stared at the blood pouring down.

"You fucking bitch!" He reached behind his back and pulled a short magrod out from his belt.

Shit! Tifa tugged harder at her foot, vowing never to strap her feet into a pair of heels ever again.

"I'm gonna teach you a lesson," Shad growled as he stalked forward.

Tifa found her balance and tested her weight on her trapped foot, swallowing the pain now shooting up her leg but still finding a sweet spot to leverage a kick with the other if needed. She balled her hands into fists and prepared for the fight. Fuck this asshole! And fuck these shoes!

Shad charged up the magrod, erupting sparks that cascaded down in a waterfall of tiny embers. "Get ready for the lesson, bitch!"

Rapid footsteps thundered closer from the other end of the porch, and a shadow swept in front of her. A flash of red filled her vision before she heard a body hit the wall and a choked grunt. She twisted herself to peer behind her. Shad was pinned against the side of the bar by a golden gauntlet, the magrod sputtering tiny bolts at his exposed throat.

"Just what lesson might that be?" her rescuer growled from the shadows. Tifa rotated her body the opposite way, eager to see the face she knew belonged to the voice.

"Hey! Why are you cockblocking me, man?" Shad angrily spat at Vincent, trying to free himself and sidle away. "We were just having a little fun! I was teasing! Roleplay, you know?!"

"I'm blocking you!" Tifa happily countered as she bent down and unbuckled the straps binding her foot in place. She finally released her foot and limped forward, certain her ankle was sprained. She braced herself against the doorway and smiled at Vincent. His gaze traveled the length of her body, eyes hardening into a blackish crimson before that familiar yellow glow flickered at the edges of his pupils.

He slowly turned back to his captive, and Shad withered under Vincent's glare. Tifa wanted to laugh aloud as Shad held his hands up in submission, wrists trembling as he began to sputter with Vincent's unspoken threat looming so close.

"H—hey, man. I—I—didn't mean it. Ok?"

The scene slowed before her eyes. Her attacker fought back tears, while her savior seemed to grimace under an internal struggle. She'd witnessed this scene many times. He was blocking the demons, forcing them back as his anger roused them.

"Vincent?" she softly called to him.

He freed his prisoner and retreated a step, desperately fumbling under his cape. After a moment, he oddly punched his thigh with something he concealed from view—the same as he had done in the labs earlier that day. He just as swiftly straightened his cape, then presumably tucked the unseen object into a pocket.

Vincent inhaled a deep, steadying breath. Whatever crisis simmered on the verge of erupting from his skin was averted.

But his eyes never wavered from Shad's frightened face. Vincent relaxed his shoulders, then held the magrod aloft and crushed it before snapping the weapon in two.

Shad visibly shuddered and backed away down the porch, never taking his eyes off Vincent and looking like he might pee himself. He finally glanced in her direction several feet into the street and shakily lowered his hands.

"I don't like manly chicks anyway," Shad said and spat on the concrete before he turned tail and ran.

Tifa exhaled, not realizing she'd been holding her breath, and slumped against the door in relief. She straightened as Vincent neared but winced when she tried to place weight back on her foot.

"Let's get you inside and look at that ankle," he said.

Tifa fumbled around in her purse, surprised it was still secured around her neck after the minor scuffle, and fished out her keys. Her hands shook as she tried to insert it into the lock. Vincent wrapped his hand around hers and unlocked the door for her. Without pause, he scooped her up and carried her inside the darkened bar. She laughed aloud at the turn of events and happily leaned her head against his shoulder.

"This spot ok?" He asked and lowered her into the end of a booth at her nod. She could barely see him as he knelt in front of her, his raven-colored hair and deep red eyes flashing in a silken silver sheen where the meager security light could catch him.

Tifa felt startling contentment that he'd shown even as a jolting pain shot through her ankle when she rested her foot on the floor.

"Let me see," he said and held out his bare hand.

Tifa raised her leg, and he gently laid it across his knee, examining her ankle with a furrowed brow and soft fingers. She hissed when he touched a sore spot near her heel.

"It's sprained," he said, and she scoffed at his diagnosis.

"No kidding."

"Hold still." He covered her foot with his hand, and a soothing warmth from his cure spell radiated through her foot, traveling up her leg. A green glow emitted from between their flesh, alleviating the pain to a dull ache. "You still need to stay off of it for a day." His voice held a scolding tone.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," she said, watching his fingers rub at her arch. "I could've taken him."

"I know," Vincent replied. "But I admit, seeing him scamper off like that was satisfying."

Tifa laughed and shook her head in agreement. When his voice joined hers in equal mirth, she felt happier than she had in weeks and intuitively knew they weren't turning back, no matter what anyone else said.