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Having arrived late in the evening to Seventh Heaven after a long day of work, Cloud went straight to his and Tifa's bedroom, where he changed from his battle gear into a pair of sweats and t-shirt. Barefoot and reclining on the bed, with pillows propped behind his back, he looked nothing like the badass ex-SOLDIER people assumed he was on first meeting. He picked up one of Barret's books on planetology, loaned to Tifa, and dug his music player out of a drawer.
~*~*~
Even though Cloud had earphones in and his eyes on the book in his hand, he tensed on reflex when the bedroom door slowly swung inward. Alert and half rising to meet whatever danger approached, he let out a small sigh of relief when he realised it was only Denzel.
"What's up, buddy?" he asked, pulling the earbuds out. He checked the clock by the bed. "It's late. Thought you were sleeping."
Sympathy flickered across Cloud's face. Denzel suffered so much in his short life. It was no wonder he saw threats everywhere.
Now that he'd drawn attention to it, Cloud could hear harsh voices raised in anger coming from the bar. Tifa can handle herself. He wasn't worried, he'd seen first hand how much ass she could kick.
About to say as much to Denzel, he stopped before the first word formed on his lips. He's shaking. "Okay," Cloud said, getting off the bed and tugging his boots on. "I got it. You go back to bed." He put one hand on top of Denzel's head in reassurance, while grabbing his sword with the other.
~*~*~
"...I'm asking you one last time, sir, if you don't calm down you'll have to leave."
Cloud paused on the bottom step. Tifa's customer service voice sounded strained. She wasn't far from losing patience, but wasn't scared. She could definitely handle whoever the goon was. A small smile tweaked the corner of his mouth for a brief instant. Should I get a front row seat?
The next moment all amusement drained from his face, replaced with a murderous look he knew scared people.
"Slut! You think you can shake your giant tatas, overcharge for this horse piss you call beer and act like you weren't doing nothing wrong!? Huh!? Whore!"
Tifa didn't answer, but that didn't matter. Cloud was already moving through the bar at speed to plant himself behind her and level his sword at the insulting piece of shit. He grabbed her hip, both to let her know he was there and to keep her from moving.
He heard her draw a startled breath at the sword whipping past. Calm down, you're scaring her. Taking a deep breath to give him time to dull his rage to a simmer, he said to her, "Need some help?"
Tifa turned her head and angled it to meet his eyes. Shock melted into relief and she smiled up at him. "Don't know about need," she teased in that low, mellow tone of hers.
"Want," he corrected, finishing their familiar banter.
In answer, Tifa put her hand over Cloud's and squeezed. She turned her head back to the drunk patron, who'd been joined by two friends. "A threesome, huh?" she commented in a way that left no doubt the double entendre was on purpose.
Cloud still choked and had to clear his throat.
"Dumb bint," the drunk slurred. "This is why we all hate you."
The two friends grabbed him by the arms between them.
"Ah, sorry, sorry," one said, his eyes on Cloud's sword. "He doesn't know what he's saying."
"Yeah," added the other one, "we're not all like that."
As Tifa leaned back against him, Cloud said in a deadly tone, "Get out and don't let me see your faces around here again."
"Thanks for your patronage!" Tifa called in an artificially cheery voice as they left. She turned immediately once the doors swung shut. "Thanks."
"You had it in hand," he replied, trying not to dismiss her skills.
"I did," she confirmed, smiling again, "but I like knowing you have my back."
"Always," he shot out the reply before she even finished speaking.
Tifa ducked her head and chuckled. "You always know just what to say."
"Oi, love birds, can I get a drink with this show?"
Only just realising they had an audience, Cloud felt an embarrassed heat warm the back of his neck. He stepped away from Tifa and turned, intent on heading back to their room. "Close up soon, okay?" he threw over his shoulder, intention clear in his tone.
In a teasing, yet endearingly familiar response she winked, gave him a thumbs up and said, "Copy that."