Summary: Zack finally meets the people who hang out in Seventh Heaven, and receives a couple uncomfortable proposals.

AN: Reminder that this is completely unbeta'ed, so if you spot any errors – from punctuation to plot holes – feel free to let me know.

Chapter 12: Food for Thought

Zack trailed Cloud up the steps and into the interior.

It was a lot nicer than he'd expected. Most of the buildings he'd seen down here seemed to have been thrown together and then continually reinforced. However, it looked like there'd been an effort made to make Seventh Heaven sturdy and cozy from the beginning. It looked like a Kalm inn, instead of a slum bar.

Walking inside, it was busy, but it was easy enough to pick out the regulars. They were the ones who stared at Zack as he followed behind Cloud.

Zack tried nodding and smiling, saying "How de do". Some responded with their own nods, but many did not. One lady, wearing what looked like a metal corset, gave him a dirty look. Zack didn't bother smiling at her

Cloud led him to the bar, a long, polished slab of wood that even had a few brass accents. Behind it was a kid, couldn't have been more than four years old. The girl looked at Cloud and frowned. "You're late."

Cloud sighed. "Everybody keeps saying that." He lifted his cool box. "Where you want it?"

The girl nodded, as if Cloud had finally done something right. She jumped down from whatever she was standing on and ran to the right. Cloud followed her, and Zack trailed behind Cloud.

"Tifa says, if you want her to cook the steak, you have to help with the other stuff."

"Fair," Cloud said, passing through a low swing door.

Zack made to follow, but the kid closed the low door blocking the entrance. "Who's that?"

"My friend," Cloud said. "Marlene, meet Zack Fair. He'll prep for lunch too." Zack put up his hands and tried to look as unthreatening as possible.

It didn't help. The kid put her hands on her hips and glared. "Nuh-uh. I don't know him, so he can't come back here."

"Your dad say that?" Cloud asked. She nodded vigorously. Cloud gave Zack a look, a question. Zack nodded. He'd be okay. "Okay. Since your dad said it, Zack'll stay out." With one last suspicious look, the kid turned away.

Zack swallowed down his nerves. He could do this. He used to be good at it. He used to go into rooms full of strangers all the time and not think anything of it, confident that he'd come out with at least a couple new friends. This was no different.

He turned and most everybody's eyes slid away. The steel-corset lady was staring at him with narrowed eyes, but the aggression was missing. It was more speculative. Best not to risk it.

At least the big black guy wasn't in the crowd. Zack might've gone up to him and started a fight, just because a fight would be more familiar than this.

A young guy, red skullcap, kinda plump, waved at Zack. He looked friendly. The guy next to him with a red headband didn't look quite so friendly, but he didn't look hostile either. Zack shrugged internally, smiled externally, and strode with fake confidence to the table.

"Heya. I'm Zack." He was probably talking too loud.

The younger one jumped up, hand out. "Zack, Hi! I'm Wedge. That's Biggs." Headband guy raised a hand. "Have a seat. Did you really bring back two blue dragons?"

Halfway down to the chair, Zack paused. "Ahh, no, man," he said. "Two drakes." Wedge and his friend exchanged looks. Maybe they didn't know the difference.

"Still two of them," Wedge went on, enthusiasm unabated. "By yourself!"

Again, Zack paused. "Well, Cloud and Tifa were there. Tifa, especially, was awesome."

"Tifa?" Biggs repeated. "Our Tifa?"

Had they never seen her fight? "Yeah. Tifa. She kicked the first drake and snapped its neck. It was awesome." She'd moved like a Wutai ninja. If he'd still been part of Shinra, he would've had to speculate on who'd taught her. Good thing he didn't owe Shinra a thing, then.

Wedge and Biggs looked at each other, and Zack could see the moment they decided to let it go. "So, you used to be in SOLDIER, right?" Biggs asked. "Why'd you leave?"

It was an innocent question, an expected question, but Zack couldn't answer it. 'Why'd he leave?'

Like he'd had a choice. Like he'd filled in forms and submitted them to HR.

Like he'd had a farewell cake and got a handshake from his boss.

He hadn't left. He'd escaped.

He gave Biggs a tight smile. "It was leave or die."

He didn't want to be here anymore, talking about this with strangers. "'Scuse me. I need a drink." And he was out of the chair, halfway to the bar, before the words had fully left his mouth.

At the other end, he could see Cloud chopping something, watched intently by Marlene. Zack wished he was there beside them. Behind the bar.

Tifa was scraping the surface of the grill. She'd changed from the long pants and long sleeves into a tank top and micro-shorts with little skirt like things.

"Aren't you afraid of hot oil in that outfit?"

She gave him an amused glance. "Not cooking with oil."

Not exactly the point, but Zack decided to change the subject. "Can I help you with anything?"

Her look this time was more searching. Zack shifted under her gaze. "How're you at darts?"

Darts? That was chucking things, right? "I have no idea."

"Wedge!" she shouted. "Zack's never played darts." The bar stilled.

Zack stared at her while she smiled at him. Behind him, Wedge shouted in outrage, and the bar erupted. "You're evil," he said to Tifa.

She lifted a brow. "Don't forget it."

A hand landed on his shoulder. "You've never played darts? Oh man! You're going to love it."

"Wedge has a standing wager that no one can beat his score," Biggs said from behind his friend.

"Yeah," Wedge grinned. "I have a Luck Up materia riding on it."

"He's had it so long it's nearly mastered," Tifa added. She held out a tankard of beer. Zack took it with a sarcastic thanks.

By the time they reached the corner with the dart board, there was crowd. Zack could hear bets being tossed back and forth until Biggs shouted everyone down. "No bets until after the first round! Great goddess, people! Let the guy learn the game first."

It didn't stop all the betting, but it did settle everyone down. It was quiet enough for Zack to hear someone say, "I thought SOLDIERs wore black."

Zack grinned. He was wearing the electric yellow shirt with the bright, embroidered butterflies he'd bought in Little Da-chao just today. His pants were an almost complimentary green – almost.

Blushing lightly, Wedge offered him his choice of red or green darts. He took the red. They were more orange toned.

Wedge explained the rules and the scoring and the stance and the placement and…. He might've gone into the history if Biggs hadn't coughed. Still, it was a good briefing: clear, thorough, with a wealth of background. Everything Zack needed to know in order to hit the target every time.

During the lecture, Zack lightly tossed the darts in his hand. He focused on each on in turn, gauging the weight, the balance, the feel.

Finally, Wedge demonstrated his throw – light hold, pinkie up – and follow through.

Wedge threw a couple, landing one in the black portion of the segment labeled 20 – "That's only a single 20" – and then a green 20 – "That's a double 20, worth forty points" – and finally in the smallest 20, the red. "And that's a treble, worth three times the points – highest on the board. Got it?"

"Got it," Zack confirmed.

"Okay, practice round," Wedge said, happily backing away from the throw zone.

Zack stepped up and focused. The noise of the crowds died away. There was only the uneven weight of the dart in his hand, the light breeze in the air, the feel of his muscles from his toes to his top. Stillness… Calmness… Focus.

He hadn't been able to do this, to be this, before Hojo's mako tube, and the endless, endless hours of nothing.

He threw the dart and it landed in the centre of white 1.

The crowd around him gasped thinking he'd missed. There was a pause of absolute silence, and then the noise started up again. Gil changed hands as the betting redoubled.

Wedge said something encouraging and told him to throw again.

This dart's weight was a little different – heavier towards the back. Zack gauged the throw. Black 2, but a little closer to the outside than he'd planned.

He ignored the increased noises from the betting and arguing in the rest of the room and weighed the last dart. He gave it a light spin. It was better balanced than the other two. He aimed, threw, and the dart landed in the middle of the bullseye.

Yeah, he could work with these. 301 points in seven darts or less. No problem.

"I'm ready for a game," he said to Wedge. He didn't speak up, but Wedge's wide smile said the guy had heard him just fine.

Wedge collected the red darts from the board. "Biggs, get the man an ale!" He held out the darts to Zack. "It's not a proper game if you don't have ale."

What surprised Zack was that Biggs actually did it. He went to the bar, and came back holding three tankards, filled with yeasty goodness. And he was excited by the game. Honestly, genuinely…

"Good luck," he said, and clinked glasses with the two of them. "No one's ever beat Wedge at darts."

Wedge blushed and dipped his head. "Just always had a knack for it, I guess. And a lot of practice!"

Biggs nodded. "A lot of practice. If only it translated to gun skills," and it was on. The two started teasing each other, revealing years of friendship – maybe more than friendship – and the people watching took sides. Obviously the two were well known and popular.

Zack tuned into the conversations filling the bar. Wedge was odds-on favourite, even though they all knew Zack had been SOLDIER.

People started sentences with "Remember the time Wedge…" and others would fill in with some other wonderful throw that had let Wedge win the game. People paid Wedge for lessons he was considered that good.

Zack looked at Wedge over the rim of his tankard. The man wasn't slim and wasn't fit and most people wouldn't consider him handsome. He was nice and he was friendly, and he seemed genuinely happy to be teaching Zack the game he excelled at.

Decision made, Zack lost the game by thirty-three points.

"Guess I just need more practice," he said with a rueful smile.

When he finally made it back to the bar, Cloud was at the large grill, cooking the steaks under Tifa's watchful eye. Surprisingly, other patrons had brought in food – salads and casseroles, and even desserts – while Zack had been losing to Wedge.

"That was nice, what you did," Tifa said, refilling his tankard. Zack tried to look baffled. Tifa just shook her head.

Someone pinched his bum.

Zack whirled and saw two nice-ish looking women. One with darker skin and kinked hair, the other paler with white-ish stripes bleached into otherwise brown hair. They both wore heavy makeup and low-cut shirts that displayed a lot of generous chest.

"Uhh, ladies?" Zack said cautiously.

"You're very cute," the darker one said with a slinky smile.

"And you've got a great ass," said white stripes with a wink.

Zack made some sound, but not a useful one. Behind him Tifa groaned.

"We heard SOLDIERs have great stamina in bed," White Stripes continued.

"And we were hoping you would prove the rumour true." Then they both smiled at him.

There was absolutely no mistaking their invitation for anything other than an offer for a threeway.

Zack could feel the blush rising. "Uhhh," he said again, raising his hands. "Thank you. Ladies," he nodded. "It's a lovely offer, but my heart – and body – are already claimed."

"She doesn't have to know," said White Stripes,

His smile stiffened. Zack decided he didn't like her much. "I'd know."

"She'd knock him flat if he slept around without permission," Cloud said from the side. White Stripes shifted her gaze to Cloud.

"Permission?" asked the other one, intrigued. She raised an eyebrow. "Well, if your girlfriend's hot…."

"I'm more likely to get it than you," Cloud added, and then Zack wasn't the only one blushing. But he was, perhaps, blushing harder than anyone else. However, it did manage to get the two women to go away.

He turned back to the bar. Tifa looked more uncomfortable than he felt, but Cloud just looked like himself.

"Thanks for the save."

"Worked," Cloud said easily. So easily that maybe he hadn't meant it.

Unfortunately, now Zack was wondering just how far Aerith's "interesting" book had gone into the world of sexuality, and if she really would give permission… No. Stop.

Cloud was his friend. Zack wasn't going to risk that by adding a complication he really wasn't ready for. He might never be ready for. Maybe one day if Aerith ever got tired of him…

Thankfully, he was pulled away by Wedge who introduced him to Steel Breastplate Lady. "Jessie's an actress!" Steel Breastplate Lady flirted as much at the two women at the bar had, but unlike them, Zack could tell it was all for show, a game of words.

He still didn't flirt back, but he allowed himself to relax. He allowed himself to tell some of the funnier stories he had from being a SOLDIER. From those first horrible days of adjustment where nothing was safe and going pee in the morning was a lesson in pain tolerance. To tripping and falling over nothing, or running into doors because your legs were moving faster than your brain.

The front door swung open with a bang, and Barret Wallace strode through. His previous absence was explained by the massive keg of beer on one shoulder and a crate of cider in his other hand. "Now this is what I call a party!" and it was. There was music, and talking, and darts (with Wedge showing off his throwing skills which were impressive).

When Cloud shouted that the rare steaks were ready, Zack went up to get his (much to Jessie's horror). The bar top was filled with food. None of the dishes were huge and a couple had obviously been bought from a street vendor, but an attempt had been made to make this a community thing.

Had he ever had this when he'd been SOLDIER?

Certainly, Angeal had had him over for supper a few times, and sometimes Genesis and Sephiroth had been there. The regular SOLDIERs had gone to the Goblin Bar as a group a few times, and maybe some of them had vacationed together, but this? Group potluck for no reason other than they'd had a good day? They hadn't done this.

Eventually, it became a bit overwhelming. Zack had been alone in the lab for three years after Hojo left. The evil minions had talked around him but never to him. Then he'd been on the road for another year mostly by himself. Now he usually hung out with Cloud or Aerith, or both, and yeah, they spent time in crowds, but they weren't often part of them.

Cloud tapped him on the shoulder and jerked his head towards the door. Gratefully, Zack followed his friend outside. There were small tables made of cable spindles, and scavenged chairs scattered around the porch. A few people were out here, smoking and chatting, but the noise wasn't as intense. There was room here to breath.

"A bit much, yah?" Cloud said, handing Zack beer in a bottle as he passed by. Cloud sat and immediately leaned his chair back on two legs, crossing his feet on the porch railing. He was between Zack and the door, and he had just completely blocked access to where Zack sat. Another dozen muscles relaxed and Zack's breath deepened automatically.

"Not used to crowds anymore." Might as well keep it simple.

Cloud grunted and offered him a fork. For the first time Zack noticed that Cloud had brought a plate filled with desert foods.

"You did a good job on the steaks," he said.

Cloud snorted. "Hard not to with Tifa supervising."

"She was pretty serious about it," Zack said with a smile. He took a forkful of something that was orange and slightly puffy. It was surprisingly good. "It was nice of you to donate them."

"Couldn't eat them all," Cloud said with a shrug. Zack wasn't so sure. He could eat a lot, but.… He also couldn't argue with the results.

"Did you give Tifa her share of the rewards?"

Cloud nodded. "All squared away."

Then Zack remembered what Cloud had said at the bar, when the two ladies were being uncomfortably forceful. He snuck a glance at his friend. Cloud wasn't looking at him. He was lifting a forkful of white fluff to his mouth. And then it was in, and Cloud's eyes closed, and he crooned in enjoyment.

Zack looked out over the square and let himself wonder why such a large open area had been left when space was at such a premium down here. It was cowardice and he knew it. "So, ahh. What you said before."

Cloud opened his eyes and looked at Zack, confused.

He cleared his throat. "When those… I mean, about Aerith and –"

"It worked," Cloud said, confused.

"Yeah, yeah. It did. Work. Thanks," Zack sputtered. Cloud just looked confused.

"Wasn't an invitation," he finally said.

Zack nodded, too high, too fast. "No, right. Yeah, sure." He dug into a cake? It was a cake. Tasted like embarrassment.

Cloud was smiling, eyes sly. "Honeymoon lasts two years, yah?" he said. "I'll bring it up again in three." Zack choked and Cloud laughed.

He was just about to knock his friend out his chair–

"There you are!"

Barret Wallace's voice was as big as the man himself. Especially as he wasn't growling threats.

"We're relaxing." Cloud's voice held definite hints of 'go away'. Zack agreed with that sentiment, so he turned his punch into a grab for his beer and stayed quiet.

"If you wanna relax, I got someplace you can relax – in private." He spoke directly to Zack, leaning over Cloud as if he didn't exist.

Cloud covered his eyes. "This again."

"What?" Zack asked, barely heard over Barret's snapped, "I ain't talkin' to you, merc!"

"We're both mercenaries," Zack said, confused.

"Well then – merc. I gotta business proposition – for you." Again, he completely ignored Cloud's presence.

Zack looked around – there was nobody close. "Okay then…?"

Barret frowned. "Not here. It's private."

Cloud snorted. "Worst kept secret in the sector."

"I still ain't talkin' to you, Strife," he growled. So it wasn't just ex-SOLDIERs that set the man off. Good to know.

"Already turned you down." Cloud didn't bother to sneer.

"What's going on?" Zack asked Cloud. When Barret opened his mouth to answer, Zack held up his hand.

Cloud looked at him, looked around the porch and the square. There were few people around, but it was enough to make Cloud sigh. "He's right. Not here."

Zack looked up (way up) at Barret. "Okay," he said. "Take us to your secret hideout." Then he grinned so very wide.

Barret didn't appreciate it. He swore and growled out a "Fine!" before hitting Cloud's leg. "Move your feet, Strife!" Cloud dropped his legs, and Barret stormed past both of them.

"Not the way to their 'secret' lair," Cloud said softly, curling out of his chair.

Zack hadn't brought his sword to the bar, but he thought maybe Cloud had a couple daggers on him. Mind you, he'd once fought off a terrorist attack using a beach umbrella, so he could probably improvise…

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

When Zack got up to follow Barret, he was inexplicably relieved when Cloud came too.

Not that he thought the man was trying to lure him to his death, but this friendliness was a complete change from how he'd spoken to Zack before. It made the soldier in him cautious.

They walked around to the back of the building, where feral cats were their only company. Barret turned around, saw Cloud, and barked, "What the hell? Didn't invite you, Strife."

Cloud shrugged and looked at Zack.

Zack looked at Barret. "You're not going to try to kill me?" Zack wished the man would take off his sunglasses.

"Hells no!" He actually sounded offended. "I said I gotta job offer for you."

Zack waved at Cloud. "Cloud's my partner. Any job I do, he'll be involved."

That made Barret scowl harder. "Don't need two. Just you." He pointed his finger at Zack and his fist was clenched hard enough for the knuckles to be pale. They got paler as he squeezed harder the longer the silence spun out…

Cloud broke it. "I'll help Tifa behind the bar, since, y'know, Marlene's only four." It was a very pointed comment and Zack saw it strike home on the big man.

Barret raised his gun arm, pointing it at Cloud who just stood there, arms crossed. "I don' need you talkin' 'bout my daughter like that."

"Be a better father," Cloud said, voice flat. He nodded once at Zack and then just strode away, ignoring Barret's calls to "come back here, you little pissant!"

When it became obvious Cloud was gone, Barret punched a crater into the stone wall on the other side of the railing. "That son of a bitch! What right's he have to say those kinds of things? Why I should…." He shook his gun-arm and shouted at the sky.

Zack balanced on his toes, ready to spring forward or away depending on how Barret moved, but the big man just swore and punched the wall a couple more times. He finally swiped a hand through the air, as if wiping Cloud from his mind. "Fuck it. And fuck him!" A quick heavy breath and he turned to face Zack once again.

Zack waited: attack or talk?

"We wanna hire you for a job," Barret spat out.

Zack made a sound that could've been encouraging.

"We'll pay you fifteen hundred gil." Again with the we.

"Who's 'we'?"

Barret scowled. "I'll tell who we are when you agree to the job."

"Tell me the job, and I'll tell you if I agree." Barret appeared to be grinding his teeth, so Zack bounced a little on his toes. This was kind of fun.

"Whachyou know about mako?" he asked.

Zack stopped bouncing. He tried to bring moisture back to his suddenly dry mouth.

He must have been quiet too long because Barret started lecturing him. "Mako is the lifeblood of the planet, and Shinra's bleedin' it dry," he shouted, gesturing broadly to make his point. "Shinra sucks up mako while the soil turns to dust, the air fills with smog, and the flowers die. The planet bleeds green like you and me bleed red," He almost poked Zack in the chest. "The hell you think's gonna happen when it's all gone, huh!? Answer me!"

Zack watched the gun-arm come that close to his heart. "Uhh, die?"

Barret loomed over Zack. "You think it's funny? Dyin'?"

Zack was tempted to say that he knew of worse alternatives, but he didn't think the man would understand he was being absolutely truthful. Plus, Zack didn't want to discuss his past with this man.

"I think we all do it eventually," he made his voice calm, serious.

Barret sneered. "A piece of the Lifestream is destroyed every time a reactor turns on. We kill the planet to run your cars, your oven, your goddamned electric dildos! You gonna stand there and pretend you can't hear the planet cryin' out in pain? I know you can! I hear it every damn day!"

"You really hear that?" Zack asked.

"Damn straight I do!" Barret hit himself on the chest.

"Huh." Zack was pretty sure the only person who could hear the Lifestream was Aerith, but whatever. "Okay, so you got a hard-on for saving the planet. What's that got to do with me?"

"We need to save it! Those reactors just keep sucking up mako. While you sleep, while you eat, while you shit!" Zack dodged a whirling arm. "They don' rest, and they don' care. So they need to be stopped! "

"And how do you plan to do that?" Zack crossed his arms. He thought he might have an idea of what Barret's plan was going to be, and if he was right….

"We blow 'em up!"

Yup, that was what Zack had thought.

"Show those Shinra bastards that we won' let 'em kill the planet or us!"

Zack held in his sigh. "And how do you plan to do that?" he asked reasonably. "The reactors are remotely secured with passcodes, drones, mechs and – I dunno – they probably got lasers by now. Plus, they're all designed like mazes. If you don't know the way, you'll never find the core."

Barret's frown had been growing bigger and deeper the longer Zack talked. "We gotta map!" he shouted.

Zack's eyebrows went up. "You… have a map."

"And your damn passcodes."

"Uh-huh," Zack said. He cleared his throat – it was either that or break out laughing. "By any chance, did a tiny red head in a black suit give you it?" No response. "How about a young blonde woman with an uneven haircut?" Barret stiffened and flushed.

This time Zack did laugh. "Ramuh's little balls, I knew it. That's fucking hilarious."

If anything, Barret's face tightened even further. "She's a sympathizer!"

"She's a fucking Turk!" Zack corrected. He shook his head, still smiling "Oh man, you've been played."

Barret reached out with his left hand as if to grab Zack's shirt. Zack side-stepped easily.

"You don't know that!" he insisted. "She could be any Shinra employee tired of their greed and corruption."

"Shinra employees who betray Shinra tend to disappear into the Science departments labs really quickly." Zack paused. "Sometimes they don't even have to have betrayed Shinra." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone.

Barret , who'd been pacing and stomping, whirled back to Zack. "That's what happened to you, right? Shinra left you to die in some dark hole. You didn' do them no wrong, but they sure wronged you. Isn't that right, Mister First Class?"

Zack leaned back on one foot, arms crossed defensively. "And if that's true?"

"Then you gotta want to get some revenge!" he slapped his gun-arm into his flesh hand, and Zack winced at the force. "Get some payback for the crap they did to you."

The only payback he wanted was Hojo dead. He might consider adding Heidegger, but Zack didn't think that's what Barret wanted from him though.

"Listen to me, Barret," Zack said firmly. He put a hand on the man's shoulder. "There are cameras all over those reactors. You'd be filmed coming and going. Are those on those plans of yours?"

Barret frowned in thought.

"I didn't think so." Zack kept talking, "If a Turk gave you those plans - and if they're any good, they definitely came from a Turk – then it's because they're setting you up for something that will benefit Shinra."

Barret snorted. "Shinra wouldn' blow up their own reactor!"

"Wouldn't they?" Zack raised his brows and Barret flinched, just a little. "Before I… left, Shinra blamed Wutai for the eco-terrorists. They might think blaming Wutai for blowing up a reactor would be a good way to restart the war."

"A war with Wutai won' benefit Shinra."

Zack snorted. "Last time they went to war, Shinra started charging taxes to pay for it. The army, and the weapons and science divisions got huge increases in budget, all paid for by the common people, and the common people didn't complain," he explained. "Nobody rebelled, because they all believed the lie that invading Wutai would keep them comfortable, would keep them safe. And they'll agree to it again if a reactor blows up right beside them."

Barret opened his mouth. Zack talked faster. "There are other ways to change the world," he said. "Develop a reliable alternative to mako power, for one. One that'll work down here." He lifted his chin to indicate the light-eating plate above them. "President Shinra doesn't pay attention to what happens down here, so you could have the system up and running all over the sector before he even noticed."

"I'm not…" Barret shuffled awkwardly. "I'm not good at that kind of stuff."

"Then find someone who is," Zack said. He tipped his head to the side, teasing out the memory. "Did you know Cosmo Canyon doesn't use a gram of mako to power its communities? And all the engineers who worked in the space program. They got laid off, but they've got the brains to figure that shit out."

For a moment, Zack thought he'd sold the big gunner on his idea, but eventually Barret shook his head. "Nah. It's too slow. The planet could die before we made anything' happen."

Zack rolled his eyes. "Or you could. And then what'll happen to Marlene."

Barret came back at him, gun-arm raised. "You got no right bringin' Marlene into this!" he boomed. "I'm gonna make the world a better place for her! Make sure she has a world to grow up in!"

Zack raised his hands and backed away. "I still say the only lives you'll improve are Shinra's but hey. Have at 'er if you're determined."

"Fifteen hundred gil! That's what we're offerin'."

"For what?" Zack asked, with a disbelieving laugh. "To walk into a trap and do something suicidally stupid? I don't think so."

"Not doing it?" It was Cloud, coming back around the bar with Tifa beside him.

"Not for a hundred thousand gil," Zack confirmed.

"Why not," Tifa asked. "We have the plans. Have the equipment. Just need some protection getting in."

"Like I told your friend, it's a trap. You're being set up by Shinra and once you've done what they want, they will squash you flat." He turned to Cloud. "Did they ask you to go?"

Cloud nodded. "Don't do revenge jobs," he said quietly.

"It's not revenge," Barret nearly shouted it.

Cloud looked at Barret. He was pretty fucking calm considering he was facing down an angry man a nearly two heads taller than he was. Zack admired that.

"If it's just concern for the planet, then why didn't you argue against the reactor going into Corel. Why–" Cloud raised his voice over Barret's growl. "Why was it only after Corel was destroyed you decided Shinra – sorry, mako – was bad? "

"It really is bad, Cloud," Tifa said. She grabbed one of Cloud's arms and pleaded. "Of all people, you know how harmful liquid mako is. And, and you said the creatures around Midgar are all mutated and strange compared to places where there're no reactors."

"Did say that," Cloud admitted. "But that's not the same as thinking blowing up a reactor or two is a good idea. Or will fix anything." He paused, frowning at his childhood friend. "If Zack's wrong and it's not a trap, Shinra will still use it to make life worse for everyone. Hard enough getting between sectors now, imagine under full lockdown. Or maybe they rebuild all the walls and fill them up with cement. Then ground level's not a problem anymore."

"You can' change anythin' if you live your life in fear," Barret shouted at Cloud.

"Not great if you live yours in anger, either." Cloud looked first at Tifa then at Barret.

"They killed everyone in Nibelheim, Cloud. They killed our parents."

"You must want payback!" Barret added.

"That was Sephiroth," Cloud said.

"He was Shinra's tool. They let it happen," she shot back. It sounded like a familiar argument. "We lost our parents, our friends–"

"Stop!" Cloud's frown was fierce. "They weren't my friends. Know they were yours, but nobody in Nibelheim was my friend but you. So I don't feel a need to get vengeance for their deaths." When both Tifa and Barret started to speak, Cloud held up his free hand again. "Am I angry about my ma? Sure. But killing random people a continent away won't bring her back."

Tifa released his arm and took a half-step back. "You've really changed. I mean, knew that, but… You used to fight all the time for what you thought right."

"Haven't changed. This just isn't right." Cloud said.

"We can't do it without you." She glanced at Zack, but her eyes remained fixed on Cloud. Her whole posture was pleading.

Cloud shook his head. "Then you can't do it, and, my opinion? That's a good thing." He turned to Zack. "Ready to go?"

"Hells yeah," Zack replied. Cloud didn't wait for him before stalking away.

Zack wanted to say something, anything, before he followed. He'd had a good day until this. He took Tifa's hand. "Please, please, please, don't do this. It smells of double-dealing and set ups and Shinra, and you're far too nice a person for me to want you to get caught up in that. Please," he went on. "Find something else."

Then Zack followed Cloud off the porch and out into the square, where normal people did normal things, and the fate of the world wasn't even a concern.

It was nice there.

.o0|0o.

Tseng gave his jacket one tug before leaving his office. He knew what this summons was about.

As he rode the elevator up to the presidents' floor, he mentally reviewed the file and he reviewed his presentation, and he breathed steadily and evenly until all nerves were erased from his body.

He was Tseng. Head of the Turks.

An exiled, outcast, half-Wutaian bastard who'd survived on his wits and his nerves to become one of the most powerful people on the planet.

It didn't make him feel safe.

It did, however, remind him that he had survived worse than what he was facing now.

He didn't knock – he had been summoned, and he was Tseng.

He walked calmly, silently, to stand in front of the over-large desk. He faced the president in his massive chair, and Heidegger positioned at Shinra's right shoulder. Tseng clasped his hands, one on top of the other, resting low and relaxed – his version of military parade rest. "Mr President. General."

"Report, Tseng!" the general barked. "When will those scum attack?"

Scum? Tseng thought. Rather ironic considering the source.

His voice was flat, unaffected, when he replied. "We've changed our focus, so there will be a slight delay."

"Changed your…!" Heidegger sputtered. "I thought you had a group ready to go?"

Tseng ignored him. "We have a lead to a cell of Fuhito's original Avalanche," he said to the president.

President Shinra obliged him by frowning, leaning forward, and clenching his jaw. All signs that his emotions were going to override his common sense. "The same ones who…?"

Tseng allowed himself a small nod. "Who conspired with your son. Yes."

The president growled. Behind him, unseen, Heidegger sneered. It could've been at the mention of Avalanche, or it could've been a result of Rufus coming up in the conversation. It was no secret (to everyone other than the president) that Heidegger thought Rufus should've been executed as a traitor.

It could also, and most likely was, Heidegger's true feeling for Roman Shinra coming through. If President Shinra had a heart attack right now, the general would sit in the chair and change the passcodes before he called for medical aid.

None of those thoughts were reflected in Tseng's tone. "This group will more completely fulfill your goals," he said. "They are already acclimatized to using violence against Shinra with little regard for civilian casualties. They won't need to be coaxed or trained in how to make or plant bombs. As well, their connection to the Wutai insurgents is real, and widely-known."

"I thought the other group was also Avalanche," the general demanded.

Tseng spared him a glance. "The first group we approached did indeed call themselves Avalanche. However, closer investigation revealed they had no idea of the group's original purpose. They bought the propaganda, you might say."

"Are they idiots?" Shinra asked.

"You might call them so." And would, no matter what Tseng said.

"Are they a threat?" Heidegger asked, which was a relatively smart question. "If they've come so far…"

"I doubt they have the stomach to continue without someone from the outside pushing them to it." Which the Turks would no longer be doing, thanks to Fair's odd friendship with Cloud Strife and Strife's connection to the bar's owner. If Lockhart and Wallace followed through at Reactor 1, then Tseng would have to round up their known associates: Strife to Fair to Aerith Gainsborough.

Unacceptable.

"Is this new group – the real Avalanche one. Is it the same group that turned Rufus against me?"

It was a good thing for Heidegger that President Shinra couldn't see his face. If Roman saw the look of disgust at the mention of his son, general or not, he would've ordered Tseng to toss Heidegger out the window.

Tseng didn't have the luxury of not being seen. He did, however, have years of training – both in keeping his expression neutral and in lying.

"We believe it contains some of the original members, yes."

Roman Shinra's eyes narrowed, and he practically chewed through his cigar. "I approve the change of target.

"But, Mr President," Heidegger protested. "The delay…"

Shinra glared at Tseng. A silent order for an answer he liked.

"A week. Perhaps two." Probably longer, but not by much.

"Is that a guarantee?" Heidegger sneered. Tseng gave an internal sigh of relief. It was the opening he needed to prepare the president for disappointment.

Tseng kept his gaze on the president. "They could blow themselves up tomorrow or kill each other in one of their rather frequent battles for leadership." Not unlike the Shinra executive. "However, we know where they are now. We will work our way through them, until we find one that can be steered where you want them."

Shinra's smile was one of anticipation as he imagined a future where he got everything he wanted.

There was no doubt in that smile because, Roman Shinra had cause to be confident. After all, so far in his life, Roman Shinra had gotten all the things he'd ever wanted.

It made Tseng's stomach curdle a little, knowing he was partly responsible for that.

When he was dismissed without further argument or complaint, Tseng knew he had done well. Thanks to him, Veld, Shotgun, Katana and the rest wouldn't be hunted for a while longer.

He'd survived one more walk on the tightrope.

End note: Cloud is pretty harsh on Barret in this, and yes, it's my bias is coming through. Sure, Marlene's adopted but Barret took that responsibility on. He didn't go out and find a stable family back in Corel to look after her. He brought her with him to Midgar.

And then dumped her on Tifa. Essentially through two games and a movie.

(Maybe I'm not as copacetic with my ex's (dismal) parenting as I thought.)