Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to leave feedback for me. I know I'm a little slow at getting the updates out, but stick with me…I know where this one's going, so there's no excuse for me not to finish. In any case, I hope this was worth the wait…Enjoy.

For What It's Worth – Chapter Three

"Turn around, Lockhart."

Tifa closed her eyes and exhaled softly as she relinquished her hold on the Turk's wrist. Reno dropped his hands from her waist and she pivoted slowly to face him. He saw that her fists were clenched at her sides and that the skin along her knuckles had gone white. He reached out to touch the bottom of her shirt, but he hesitated, expecting a reaction from the brunette.

Reno's eyes moved up to her face to find that she was looking away from him, her mouth twisted into a frown. It wasn't exactly permission, but Tifa didn't look like she was going to stop him, either. His thumbs hooked under the hem of her shirt, and he slowly pulled the fabric up, exposing her stomach.

"Fuck me," he breathed, staring at the long, thin line that traveled up from her right hip, and disappeared beneath the edge of her bra. "How did you get that?"

Although the nerves had been damaged and she no longer had any feeling in the area around her scar, the slight pressure of the Turk's fingertips made Tifa cringe. "Don't touch it," she said, backing as far away as she could.

Reno let her have her space, and looked up once more at her face. The bartender's eyes were squeezed shut, and it seemed as though she was trying to will her scar away.

"Are you ashamed of it?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I just…don't want to think about the bastard that did this to me." Tifa glanced up and found his gaze locked onto hers. For a moment, neither of them moved, until Reno began to lower his hands, and the brunette's clothing was suddenly back in place.

"Fair enough," he said, and Tifa felt a few seconds of relief before the redhead leaned in, his nose nearly touching hers. "I'd prefer to have your undivided attention."

The Turk didn't even register her movement, until he felt Tifa shove him away forcefully. "No, Reno."

He flashed her a grin. "Haven't we been through this already?"

"I'm being serious," she said, pushing him again.

"So am I."

Tifa crossed her arms and gave him a hard glare. "I think you should leave."

"C'mon, Lockhart…" Reno groaned, exasperated. Taking in her defiant stance, the redhead decided how he would regain the upper-hand. And after six years with the Turks, he had very few qualms about fighting dirty. "It's just sex. What are you afraid of?"

Tifa's eyebrows arched in disbelief. Bingo, Reno thought.

"Afraid? You don't scare me."

"Uh-huh," Reno said, as he shifted his weight to rest his left arm on the counter. "Then why'd you buy the gun?"

The brunette moved to push him again, but he was expecting it this time, and just as her hands touched the collar of his jacket, she found them both trapped within his strong grip. "Screw you," Tifa growled, angry and frustrated that she couldn't fight him on her own terms.

Reno smirked, brushing his thumbs across the top of her knuckles. "If you're offering…"

"Get out," she said quietly.

"Hmm…" he began, as he released her right arm. "If you want me to leave that badly, you're going to have to make me." Reno lifted the gun off the counter and held it out to her, handle first. When Tifa didn't take it, he grabbed her hand and placed the Quicksilver in it. "No sense buying a gun if you're not willing to use it."

Tifa didn't speak, but she brought her other hand to steady the weapon, and pointed it at the center of his chest. The Turk's smile never faltered though, as he glanced down to see where the barrel met his white shirt. "You won't do it," he stated confidently. The bartender tilted her head in question. "I don't think you can," Reno continued, his tone condescending. "Ya know, before you can fire a gun, you have to…"

Click.

"I see you've found the safety."

"This is the slums, Reno. Everyone knows how to use a gun."

The Turk chuckled, taking a step and forcing the brunette to draw her arms closer to her body. "I knew you weren't incompetent. But I still don't think you have the nerve…"

"I could shoot you in the foot," Tifa said, her words barely above a whisper.

"Then do it, Lockhart."

"You're awfully cocky for someone who's unarmed," she shot back, trying to inject that same attitude into her own voice, but coming up short.

Reno took one last step forward, until the gun was the only thing left between them. "I'm a Turk, babe," he said, looking down at her. "I'm never unarmed."

Tifa's fingers began to loosen around the gun's handle, as she realized her mistake. The Quicksilver would have been a deterrent against most people, but Reno seemed able to read her every move, and he'd called her bluff perfectly. She'd bought the weapon without any intentions of killing the Turk, instead figuring that she could at least graze him with a bullet and send him on his way. But she'd never attacked anyone in cold blood before, and Tifa found herself unable to pull the trigger. She gave a resigned sigh, as her thumb flipped the safety back on.

"I don't want to clean your blood off my floor…"

"If you say so," he said, removing the gun from her grip and placing it back on the bar. The Turk reached out and softly brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek in an oddly tender way. The touch was so brief, Tifa almost missed it as she felt his fingers slide through her hair, pulling her into a kiss.

This time, there was no hesitation; no moment of frozen shock. Her lips easily fell into rhythm with his, and the bartender could feel his smile against her mouth.

"You've had quite the change of heart, haven't you?" he asked, pulling back just far enough to speak.

"Shut up, Reno," she said, as she gripped the lapels of his jacket and used the leverage to lift herself up to meet him in a heated kiss. The Turk had enough presence of mind not to ruin a good thing, and he refrained from further comment, instead losing himself in the rich smell of Tifa's hair and the feel of her body pressed tightly to his.

Reno moved on to her neck, while one hand trailed lightly down to rest at the small of her back. He decided not to go any further just yet. It would definitely kill the mood if he ended up getting slapped, so the redhead thought it might be best to let her make the next move.

The Turk wasn't disappointed when he felt Tifa tugging the goggles off his head. "Why do you wear these things, anyway?" she asked, as she dropped them to the floor. Reno grazed his teeth across her skin, and the brunette inhaled softly. He fought down a chuckle, and ran his tongue over the same spot before answering.

"When I ride my motorcycle," he said, lifting his head to look at her. "So I don't get bugs in my eyes."

Tifa wrinkled her nose, and her mouth twisted into a grimace. "Lovely."

This time, the red-haired Turk couldn't hold back a laugh. "You asked." His hands were now travelling lower, smoothing over her curves and causing their hips to grind together maddeningly.

"Not here," she began, as she felt her skirt riding higher up her legs with Reno's every movement. His forehead came down to rest against hers. He didn't answer right away, and Tifa knew he was struggling not to lose his composure in front of her.

"I don't think I can wait much longer, babe," he said finally. His voice had taken on a huskier tone than normal, and the bartender was surprised by how much she had affected him.

Tifa grasped his forearms and pushed them away from her, at the same time stepping past him towards the open end of the bar. "Focus, Reno," Tifa said, as she used her hold on his arms to guide him over to the door leading to her apartment. "Upstairs."

She glanced up at his face and found herself staring into green eyes that were darkened with lust. The Turk looked like he was contemplating simply throwing her against the wall in his impatience. But he didn't move. He spoke instead, his words soft and barely contained. "Fine," Reno said, as if reminding her that he could just as easily have ignored the request and overpowered her, despite her protests. "Lead the way."

Tifa shook her head, taking a step back. "I have to lock up first. My room is on the left. You can wait there."

"Fucking tease," he growled. "You're doing this on purpose."

"Go," she said angrily, as she pointed to the stairs. "Before I change my mind, walk out the door, and leave."

That was apparently one bluff he wasn't willing to gamble on. The redhead trudged up the steps muttering what Tifa could only assume to be wildly colorful obscenities. The sounds soon faded, and all at once Tifa was alone with her thoughts. Every instinct the fighter possessed was screaming at her to get away; to find somewhere safe and wait out the rest of the night.

She walked slowly to the entrance of her bar while a battle raged in her mind. The rational part of her brain supplied dozens of reasons why she shouldn't go upstairs. The bartender knew that it would be a very big mistake to sleep with a Turk when she was guilty of everything he had accused her of. But traitorous thoughts kept slipping through, and Tifa stopped with her hand on the doorknob.

An innocent person would have no real reason to run away from the situation, and aren't I trying to look as innocent as possible? The brunette bit her lip in worry. If she didn't come to a decision soon, Tifa had no doubt that Reno would come back down and make it for her. If I leave him alone here, that's practically inviting him to look through my things. And if he finds the room downstairs, it's game over…

Tifa took a deep breath before reaching out to slide the deadbolt into place.

'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'

"I didn't think you were coming back."

Reno was sitting at the edge of her bed, his elbows resting just above his knees. The redhead didn't look up as she entered, and Tifa wondered if he was trying to hide his expression from her. She closed the door behind her and strode across the room to stand in front of him. Her hand reached out tentatively to touch his fiery red hair. Reno raised his head to look up at her, and suddenly the bartender felt the soft skin of his face beneath her fingertips. His eyes closed briefly as she traced her thumb along the small line that ran across his cheek.

Reno took the bottom hem of her shirt and stood up. The brunette lifted her arms, and he pulled it off in one fluid motion. Quickly following suit, Tifa pushed the jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground as she began working at the buttons of his white dress shirt. No sooner had it been removed than the Turk found himself flat on his back, with Tifa straddling his hips and running her hands over the taut muscles of his stomach.

"Shit, Lockhart…" Reno said, biting back a groan as the friction made his body respond in very obvious ways. "What are you trying to do to me?"

"Having second thoughts?" the brunette asked, smiling as she set to the task of ridding him of the rest of his clothes. He kicked off his pants and sat up far enough to reach a hand around the back of Tifa's neck.

"Not a chance," Reno replied, before pulling her down on top of him and kissing her hungrily.

A muffled ringing came from the vicinity of the Turk's discarded clothing, and Tifa broke their contact, looking at him questioningly. "It can wait," he said without much consideration. Still, she hesitated, distracted by the sound of Reno's PHS. "I said, leave it."

And as his hands made their way down her body, his phone quickly became the last thing on Tifa's mind.

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