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Barfight

       “Man,” Cid said, punching his glass on the table, “it’s a damn sad day when liquor don’t help.”
       “Got that right,” Barret agreed.
      Tifa watched the two of them. 7th Heaven had no shortage of customers on any given day, but these two coming in was a pleasant surprise. When she had approached them, though, they hadn’t given her more than a cursory greeting before ordering their drinks. Usually, they had some news, or some reason to come in here, but if there was any reason, they weren’t dispensing it. She had gotten them their drinks and retreated behind the bar to observe.
      Cid looked glum. His heart just wasn’t in his cussing, or his drinking, or his arguing, or… well, in the whole hour they had been in here, that was all that the normally cantankerous Cid had said. He sipped at his beer, and looked at the table, and that was it.
      Barret had seemed much the same, give or take two more beers. The alcohol didn’t affect the large man all that much, although the pints he had ordered seemed to be trying. His usually talkative self had retreated for some reason, and all that was left was… well, as much as she disliked the comparison, all that was left of Barret was a silent giant akin to Cloud.
      Oh, yes. Cloud.
      But, she told herself, that’s a matter for a different time. She moved about her normal chores as in a restless dream because her attention was focused on the two men.
      It remained this way for a while.
      She refilled or filled orders from other customers, flipping the tips to her two helpers, Shelke and Marlene. The latter of the two had, for some reason, stayed away from her adoptive father. The small brunette knew how to judge people’s moods, and how best to react to them. When Tifa had told her about Barret’s arrival, the child had been eager to see him, but had oddly retreated to her position of servitude when she had seen him. Tifa wondered if Barret even knew that she was in the room.
      Shelke, on the other hand, had made herself a ready liaison to the two, chirpily taking their orders and not assuming immediate friendship. The rough-and-tumble redhead smiled for the two as she didn’t for other customers. Tifa felt a little lift watching her. Twenty-two years old, and she only looked to be fourteen. Then again, she hadn’t aged physically since Deep Ground had taken her in and… but, that was another can of worms to be opened at another time. Now, the rambunctious Shelke was making up for lost time, smiling and playing with kids half her age, and happily helping around 7th Heaven.
      Business was slowing down, so Tifa handed over control of the bar to Shelke and went to see to Cid and Barret. She grabbed a nearby chair and slipped into it, straddling the back of the chair as she leaned in. “Hello. What’s happening?”
      Barret huffed.
      Cid joined him. “Damn it, Tifa.” He looked into her eyes, not even drunk enough to warrant his usual shot of Tabasco to sober him up. “Life’s just slow. It’s all just slowed down to hell’s pace.”
      Her barkeeping instincts kicked in. “How’s that?”
       “Well,” Cid sighed, “Sephiroth’s gone. Again. And we just got Deep Ground out of the way. Everyone’s okay, there’s no wars, nothing happening right now with the Space Exploration project that Reeve’s been workin’ on… it’s just slow as hell.”
      Now Barret put in his piece. “I’m finished settin’ up the oil mines in the desert. Pipelines are set up and protected. Now, all’s Corel’s got to do is wait for the oil to start flowing in and out, and they’ll be able to start rebuilding. But it’s the waiting that’s the problem.”
       “There’s nothing else you guys could be doing?” Tifa asked, flicking a strand of dark hair away from her eyes.
       “Not a damn thing,” Cid answered.
       “And drinking,” Barret indicated his cup, “ain’t helping, either.”
      The two withdrew back into silence. Tifa sensed the end of the brief conversation and moved her chair accordingly. She pulled her long legs over the back of the chair and settled in a regular sitting position. Now that she thought about it, the two were right. There really wasn’t much to do. Ever since the Jenova wars, there had been something to do; whether it was Geostigma, the second Reunion, or Deep Ground, there was something happening that required life-or-death situations. Now, there wasn’t much of anything. She looked at the empty glass that a customer had left there earlier. Yeah, it seemed that drinking wasn’t helping much.
      Shelke listened. “Barret,” she called over.
      The large man reluctantly turned his head and met her eyes.
       “Look at me,” she said, and her maturity shone through her voice. “I lived in a hell worse than everything you went through, combined, for ten years. And when I left it, I lost my sister, Shalua.” She turned away from him to place a glass in its cupboard, then returned to meet his gaze again. “But now that it’s over, I don’t want to go back. If I do, I might not last. It might end up with me, or someone I love, dying. If that happens, I don’t want to remember how bored they were; I want to remember how we had good times during the peace.” She turned to another glass, finishing with, “Don’t you remember?”
      Barret sighed. “Damn, only a few years being human, and she knows us better than we know ourselves.”
      Cid bit his lip, blushing a bit. “Yeah. Makes ya feel old, doesn’t it?”
      Tifa smiled a bit. She knew exactly what Shelke meant. Cloud smiling… yeah, if they all died in the next deadly adventure, she’d like to remember how he smiled, not how well they fought together.
       “Well,” Barret said, “I wish that it made the days more exciting. Yeah, this peace is a good time to make memories, but, well, I’d just like to be doin’ something.”
      Cid grunted agreement and slammed back the remainder of his beer.
      Tifa mouthed thanks to Shelke. Shelke smiled back, then looked out the door, and her smile vanished.
      Tifa looked. And she sighed, too.
      In walked five of her least favorite customers. They called themselves the ‘Edgewalkers,’ and they fancied themselves the roughest gang in Edge. True, they were the only gang in Edge, but that didn’t deter them.
      And it only got worse when they got drunk.
      Seeing Butch, their leader, staggering a little bit as he took the door off of its hinges, she feared that that was already the case.
       “Hey! Barkeep!” he pointed to his four mates. “One round for us!”
      Business was business, she figured, and she couldn’t go around kicking customers out just because they broke chairs, slugged beer, harassed customers, intimidated people from coming in, and tipped lousy. After all, she thought ironically, I have a bar to run. With more reluctance than she showed, she rose from her seat and walked over. “What’ll you drink?” she asked, forcing a smile… no, more of a… a bit less… okay, she just tried to keep from throttling them all.
       “Beers,” Butch said, “with whiskey chasers.”
       “Okay,” she said, walking over to the bar.
       “Hey!” one of the others, Barry, called after her, “Make this one on the house!” A ruckus of agreement and laughter followed it.
       “Dream on!” Tifa called back.
      More laughs and a few jeers. “Come on, Bear,” Lester said, “are you gonna let her talk to you like that?”
      It only took a few more seconds of remarks about his manhood before Barry got up from his seat and sauntered over to the bar. He punched a fist on the clean countertop and snarled, “They’re gonna be on the house!”
      Tifa didn’t even look at him. She just set his cup down in front of him. “Take your drink and sit down. I’ll bill you when you’re done.”
      He threw the cup at the wall just past her head. It shattered.
      She still didn’t throttle him. That was seventeen glasses on his tab, now. She set another cup in front of him. This one he took and went back to his seat, basking in the approval of his gang mates.
      Oh, yeah. She forgot to remember that these were rejects from Turks and SOLDIER. She sighed, hoping that it wouldn’t get worse. They never paid anyways, but she served them anyways, deciding to add “harassment” to their eventual rap sheet.
      When she finished pouring the drinks, she set them on a tray. Shelke grabbed the tray and began to walk over to them. She knew to keep her temper, especially in lieu of her added talents, but these… customers, she reminded herself, grated on her nerves. As she set the drinks in front of them, she slapped away as many hands as she could. They only saw a fourteen year old girl. If they had known… inside, she sighed. It probably wouldn’t stop them.
      She walked away, ignoring the pinches on her legs as she did.
      Cid watched. “Hey, uh, Barret,” he whispered to his friend across the table.
       “I know,” Barret said. “I know.” He called behind his back, “Hey! You guys leave them alone!”
      Tifa recognized the tone in his voice.
      Butch laughed derisively. “Yeah, whatever.”
      Tifa waited. But no further response from Barret. She decided to stay out of this one.
       “Take that!” and “Shot down!” followed Butch’s answer. Barret ignored them.
      So did Cid.
      Tifa bit her cheek, trying to keep from smiling. Apparently, the two of them were very bored.
      Shelke ignored the gang. The rest of the bar had emptied out, save for the two tables. She didn’t feel like breaking anything today, though.
      Marlene just tried to keep her distance from them.
      For the next half hour, the gang proceeded to make obscene gestures at passing pedestrians and the other residents of the bar, harass the waitresses, insult Barret and Cid, laugh at everything, and break beer glasses with their fists.
      The breaking point came when they ordered a fifth round of beer. Shelke shook her head, refusing to be exposed to those men again. Tifa nearly took the tray herself, but Marlene stepped in. She shared a secret smile with Tifa.
       “Oh,” Butch said, “now they’re sending the babies over to us! I wonder if she’s ticklish.” A lecherous laugh exploded from the other Edgewalkers.
      Barret twitched.
      Marlene set down the drinks, swatting away what hands she could and beating a swift retreat.
      Mikel grabbed her shirt as she tried to get away and the rest of her as he pulled her close. “Want a little kiss?” he said.
      The rest of the gang laughed.
      Several things happened at once.
      Shelke set down her cleaning cloth and stepped out from behind the bar.
      Tifa took over washing the dishes.
      Cid clanked the table with his cup.
      Mikel landed on the ceiling, then the floor.
      Now Barret was standing behind the Edgewalker. “Keep your hands offa Marlene!” he shouted.
      Tifa nodded. He wasn’t roaring yet.
      The rest of the gang was not laughing. They stood up, clenching closed fists or opened knives or other easily concealed weapons. Marlene retreated to behind the bar, smiling secretly with Tifa.
      Barret glared at each of them. “You got a problem?”
       “Yeah,” Butch said, “we do. Our problem is that we’re loyal to each other. You mess with one,” he motioned the others with a sweep of his arm, “you mess with all of us.”
      Barret huffed.
      Mitch crawled off of the floor and scrambled over to the rest of his gang. He glared through angry eyes back at Barret.
       “Hey,” Cid said, rising from his seat, “That’s the same with us. You mess with one, you mess with all of us.”
      Butch snorted. “Yeah, what can you do to us, old man? We’re five to your two.”
      Cid’s eyes flashed. “’Old man’?”
       “Yeah, you heard me,” Butch continued. “Finish your prune juice before you mess with us.”
      Tifa put away dishes as the fight commenced. The gang had had no chance the moment that they harassed Marlene, but calling Cid an ‘old man’ hadn’t helped their situation, either. Barret pounded them with both fists. Cid joined in, too, giving and taking damage. Even Shelke joined the fun, showing off her enhanced strength and her years of fighting experience.
      The gang even managed to hold their own for a few minutes.
      Tifa moved glasses around to avoid them getting broken by flying bodies and chair pieces. She even caught one of them as he flew over the counter, tossing him back into the fray.
      Marlene giggled. “I think Daddy’s having fun.”
      Tifa nodded, focusing on the dishes. “More fun than he’s had in a while.”
      Indeed, Barret was roaring random curses at the gang members as they beat on him and he beat on them. Cid was his old dirty-mouthed self again, describing things that the gang members did with animals, relatives of both genders, and vehicles, and what those things did back, and what their relatives did with random features of the terrain, and so on. Shelke was quiet, just grunting in exertion.
      Tifa looked around.
      The fight was over. The five Edgewalkers lay in a bleeding, bruised, groaning heap just outside, where Cid and Barret had dumped them. Tifa would call for WRO to come and clean them up in a while. Then she’d have to ask for another loan from Reeve to fix up the bar. Only a few tables and chairs were still intact, and two of those were inhabited by the three offenders. Still, she thought, it was worthy compensation. The Edgewalkers would likely never bother her again, and Cid and Barret were in much better moods now.
      Regardless, she thought, I may have to charge them for the windows.
      She took the tray of drinks over to the table, smiling as Cid grabbed two beers and Barret grabbed one and Shelke grabbed the other, all three knocking mugs together and laughing. “Damn!” Barret laughed. “I ain’t never had that much fun!”
      Cid laughed along. “Hey, Tifa! Any other gangs we can take out while we’re here?”
      She laughed with Shelke. The girl… no, that was a mistake that the Edgewalkers had made. The woman had a pleasant laugh. Tifa just picked up a spare piece of paper, scribbled ‘Closed for Maintenance’ on it, and hung it on the door, closing the door then (ignoring the glass falling out of the door pane) and joining them at the table.
      As one, they raised their glasses. They looked at each other, Marlene in Barret’s lap, and smiled. Barret toasted, “To the good times! They’d better never have to end!”
      Cid yelped agreement. “To the quiet times! Keep ‘em away from me!”
      Shelke raised her glass. “To the peaceful times! May we treasure them!”
      Tifa smiled at them and raised her own glass. “To AVALANCHE! The bonds we make—” she slammed her glass forward, causing the beer in all of theirs to froth over, “—never break!”
      Even Marlene put her cup of soda forward. “Can you teach me to fight like that, Daddy?”
      Barret laughed louder than the rest. “No! You learn to fight clean, okay?” He indicated Tifa. “Ask her about that!”
      Tifa put her cup down, smiling boldly and objecting loudly.
      And that was the fun that Cid and Barret and, Tifa realized, herself, had been missing.