Midnight. Barret stood with his arms folded beside the Seventh Heaven's door as he waited for the last customer to leave. He was on the verge of ushering the guy out when the man finally chugged back the last of his drink, stood up and proceeded to wobble past Barret. Not a moment too soon. Doors shut and bolted as soon as the man was clear and now at last a sense of something resembling relief. Not much longer now; hopefully Marlene was still asleep and not awake, scared and wondering where her father had got to. Sooner he got the clean-up done, the sooner he could get back to her.

Tifa had spent the last hour wiping down the unoccupied tables and stacking glasses on the bar; all that left was putting the chairs up and cleaning the floor. Barret moved the empty glass to the bar and then worked from the main door back towards the bar as Tifa tackled the washing up. The clink of the glasses mingled with the incessant hum of the neon sign and the muted night-life out in Sector Seven. Still new to this - once a coal-miner, now a bouncer at a bar- not to mention finally becoming a father in the interim. He glanced at his employer. A strand of Tifa's hair spilled down her cheek as she moved and he grinned as she pushed it back behind her ear leaving a trail of soap bubbles across her cheek.

Barret refocused on his task. The silence felt oppressive - he needed to say something. "Good takings tonight?" he asked, his back to her as he flipped another chair over.

"Hmmm?" Tifa said absent-mindedly. "Oh. Yeah, pretty good I think. Business has been picking up over time."

"S'good," Barret muttered as he lifted another chair. He paused half-way to the next table; Tifa was watching him. Barret met her gaze for a moment and she smiled, her attention soon returning to the sink. Too long a pause for comfort. In his haste to get back to what he was doing, Barret brought the next chair down on the table with a little too much force.

"Less fighting too. Helps sell more drinks I think," she said, not appearing to notice the noise.

"Huh?"

"The takings. People prefer places where they can drink in peace."

"Nicer atmosphere," Barret replied. He was close to her now, the whir of the fridge joining the other ambient noises filling the pauses in their conversation.

"Yeah," Tifa said. "All thanks to you."

Barret snorted. "You're a good fighter; you could have taken care of trouble all by yourself." He chanced a glance at her; her attention was still on the sink.

"I could," Tifa admitted nodding. Barret flipped the last chair and moved behind the bar. He breathed in, careful not to brush against her as he slipped into the back room for the mop and bucket.

"Not trying to put myself out of a job you know," Barret rumbled as he filled the bucket. "Just don't see why you need me."

"I'm not about to fire you," Tifa replied. "I could never do that. But I think... I think it's better that you stop the fighting."

Barret ducked his head around the door and frowned at her. "How do you mean?"

Tifa kept on washing. "People look at me and think I'm helpless. All they see is a pretty girl with a nice figure." She glanced up at him. "Don't for a second think I don't know what some people say about me - even that 'angel of the slums' business." She did not look entirely flattered. "But because of that some people feel they can try stuff 'cause they think they can get away with it." Her brow furrowed. "And they always regret it because - like you said - I can deal with trouble easy enough. And that surprises them - they assume they know me based on what they can see of me." Tifa raised her head and caught his gaze in the mirror above the bar. "You; everyone assumes you can fight and that you'd win. No one even feels the need to try. Feels like that's quicker and less destructive."

Barret's hand clenched, his heart sank as the water-level in the bucket rose. Hired muscle. Figured. "That why you hired me? Because I look tough?" Too aggressive; she was helping him - he didn't want to wind up homeless with Marlene again.

"No."

Barret's heart lurched, the tension unwinding. Tifa was smiling as she gazed over her shoulder at him. "Then why'd you do it?" he asked. "I mean, it helped me out but-"

"But that's why I did it," Tifa said as she looked back down at the sink. "You and Marlene - you needed help. I couldn't just let you stay on the streets. So I hired you. I would have done the same if you could fight or not. Of course-" She grinned. "-we might have had to rethink the situation if you couldn't." Another glance at him. "Reckon I would have an easier time teaching you how to tend the bar than fight."

"Thank you," Barret blurted after a pause. "Thank you for both of us." Tifa nodded and now he felt flustered. A new distraction; Barret dragged the bucket across the floor and started mopping. No more discussion, no more words. The clink and splash of Tifa washing; the sound of the mop against the dry floorboards and the incessant electronic hum. A distant shout or two from the sector beyond the door. Barret tensed as someone tried to pull the outer door open, ready to do his job in case they tried to enter with any more force.

Still mopping the floor but all his attention was on the door, his arms tensed, his body ready. Another try at the door- Footsteps fading away. Barret relaxed, tension unwinding once again and- He cursed; too distracted by the door. Now there was no way back from the bar - except across his newly washed floor. "Hells," he muttered.

"Just have to wait for it to dry," Tifa said behind him.

"I guess," Barret replied. More silence to endure and few distractions; he had to say something. Before he could even open his mouth, Tifa slipped around in front of him, her arms around his neck, her body against his. The unexpected heat radiating off of her took a moment to register but was impossible to ignore. Her head was against his chest, her eyes closed. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"Giving you a hug. Thanks for a job well done; for helping me out today." Her eyes remained closed but her lips curled into a smile.

"You... you don't have to," Barret tried.

"I know, but I want to. You don't like hugging me?" She looked up at him.

"Y- I-." Barret sighed and loosely draped his arms around her shoulders wary of touching her skin.

Tifa closed her eyes again and sighed. "Floor dry?" she murmured after a few minutes, the words startling Barret.

"Uh, yeah. I think," Barret said peering over her head.

"Good." Tifa stood on her tip-toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. Now let me finish up and go see your daughter." She stepped back and gestured across the bar.

"Sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine. She needs you far more than I do. Go; be there in case she wakes up," Tifa said. There were dry patches in amongst the wet; he stepped carefully into each as he made his way to the door.

"You want to lock this behind me?" he asked.

"Oh, sure," she said and trailed after him mirroring his steps. He pulled the door open. "Goodnight, Barret," Tifa said, pecking his cheek again.

"Goodnight, Teef-" Barret tried to bite back the words, but Tifa didn't seem to mind. "Night," he blurted again and closed the door, the clack of the lock sliding back into place a small comfort. She didn't need him to guard her - well; she never needed him. But she seemed to like having him around. The flat above the Seventh Heaven was only accessible via a rickety staircase at the back - always necessary to keep an eye out here. But he could not help another glance back at the front door and the girl behind it. And worry she would get home safe too - her room was beside his. He could stay awake. Just to be sure.