Blissful Ignorance

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Chapter 2

Tifa stormed out of the building, past the suits, past the snooty receptionist, and out the door into the brisk day. She shrugged off the cold because, as usual, she was heated by her own force of conviction and a healthy dose of confusion as well. No matter who Nova insisted he was, she was sure he had to be Rufus Shinra. The shock of that realization was just starting to set in. He was supposed to be dead, but there he was sitting there more alive than a lot of people Tifa knew to be living. It wasn't fair! Once you blew up a whole section of a continent, you expected those caught in the blast to stay dead. Why should he survive? Why should he not only survive, but make his way to Jarta to obviously rebuild his empire?!

Though she wasn't a stupid girl, deep thinking was not something she often indulged in. Her wisdom tended to lie more on the practical side rather than the philosophical side and trying to divine the motives of someone like Rufus Shinra sounded like it was a little out of her league. Lucky for her, she had some idea who she needed to talk to, and she had already planned on going in that direction.

As she left the downtown central area she was assaulted by buildings that were not half as large or even as new. The architecture style had not changed all that much over the years, but there were noticeable touches. A revival of a sort of gothic style had been on the way in Jarta when it was fashionable to construct with clean lines and smooth glass. As a result, the old downtown seemed like a foreign place with gargoyles for rain sluices and stone blocks making the buildings look rough and lumpy. Even if she was never really comfortable in something that felt so old, Tifa knew how to navigate without thinking about how this stone lion or that marble dragon was giving her the evil eye. When she got to a great serpent, who brought back memories of desperate desert battles, she walked through its arching coils into a shop that proudly proclaimed 'we keep your interests safe'. White Wyrm Insurance was the brain child of Vincent and Yuffie, who had found themselves at a loose end once the planet was safe.

Yuffie hadn't known what to do with herself. Materia had proved to be a futile source of power, even if they ended up being a nice source of wealth. Somehow, after the whole Meteor ordeal, they just stopped working. Now materia were only valuable as memorabilia and sometimes set into jewelry. The common stones were rare enough to be worth roughly what a nice diamond or ruby would bring in, but most people who owned them during the incident all those years ago were rather unwilling to part with the rarer ones and hence there wasn't much open market trading of them. Tifa herself still had several of her own material, and even if she were down to her last gil she would not be persuaded to sell some of them. The summons had a special place in her heart, they were like fellow fighters, and she would starve before she would sell a friend like that.

Vincent and Yuffie had brokered the sale of a Regen materia and after that had done well enough with their business never to need to sell any more than that first one. Vincent had never had any real goals or purpose after they finished their mission and when Yuffie had gone off to make her way in the world he had simply followed her without asking. Now they had been working together for so long, Yuffie simply took his presence for granted. Tifa suspected that each harbored some affection for the other, but she wasn't about to interfere and upset the delicate balance of willful ignorance they had constructed. Vincent was most likely just biding his time until Yuffie got a little more mature, but considering the advances Yuffie had been subjected to over the past few years by amorous young men Tifa thought that he had better not wait too much longer.

"Welcome! Oh, it's just you Tifa." Yuffie was tossing throwing daggers at a mangled dart board. She propped her feet back up on the desk she was behind, and hit another bullseye to add to the cluster already in the middle. Surrounded by weapons on the walls and beneath the counter, she seemed totally unaffected and at home in such a bizarre location for a girl who practically royalty at her hometown.

"Gee, I feel loved, thanks a lot." Sundays were always a slow day, but Vincent insisted that they were to be open seven days a week. Not six. Not six and a half. Seven. Yuffie always complained, but when she wasn't working she was getting herself into trouble and even Tifa was glad that there was a job that could keep her somewhat flaky friend's attention held in one place. "Don't you want to know how the meeting went?"

Yuffie missed the dart board entirely. "Holy. . . Holy! I thought you were just on your way there not coming back! Did you give ugly ol' Boss Nova some of your patented kick ass?!" Yuffie leapt up on the desk in her excitement.

"No, unfortunately. Can you get down from there? I have to tell you something serious. In fact, I need to see Vincent too. Where is he?" Yuffie got down from the desk, put a sign up on the door, and motioned for Tifa to follow her in to the back room. If Tifa needed to talk to Vincent then this was no easy matter, a rare frown graced Yuffie's mouth.

Vincent was sharpening weapons, the steady scraping noise familiar and soothing to his nerves. Guarding shipments of goods from monster attack was nothing compared to keeping Yuffie from nearly killing herself in battle. Her recklessness kept life interesting and more often than not her tendency towards showmanship kept the customers coming back, so he couldn't really complain. As Tifa walked in, he noted her with a flickering glance and finished the sword he was working on before standing and nodding in her direction.

"Tifa, a pleasure, as always. What brings you here?" His voice was gritty, making him seem older than he looked. Even so, Tifa had never been afraid of the gunman.

"I met with Nova." Vincent's eyes glowed a moment with interest. He asked no questions but clearly this was news to him. "From what I can tell, and despite many reasons to find this ridiculous, I think that the man who calls himself Nova is in reality Rufus Shinra."

"But Mr. 'I'm so cool' Shinra died in the blast from Weapon." Yuffie snorted.

"I know, I saw it too, but unless he had an identical twin brother we don't know about then that's Rufus Shinra sure as I'm Tifa Lockhart." Vincent glanced up as if he was thinking about something. Everyone was silent as the women waited expectantly for some words of wisdom from the deep thinker among them.

"I've suspected this for some time. From some of the comments of our more prominent clients, I had assumed that this was the most likely eventuality. It is unfortunate that you know him and have to deal with him, and this puts you in a terribly dangerous position, Tifa. Now Shinra has even more reasons to rid himself of you, as it were." Vincent spread out his hand apologetically.

Yuffie turned purple as she took a deep breath to yell. "And why was I told this?!"

"I only had suspicions. I don't trade in rumors, Yuffie." His words bit into Yuffie's rage and deflated it as quickly as it begun. The ninja looked ashamed and stayed silent now, looking at the floor.

"What should I do? I have to meet him for dinner tonight. You don't think he'll try to kill me tonight do you?"

"Does he know you know who he is?"

Tifa gulped as she thought of her outburst in his office. "Oh yes."

"Then I would say it would be very likely. Just don't be left alone with him. Would you like us to accompany you? I for one would feel better if we were there." Vincent had always been so concerned and considerate, like an older brother, and Tifa felt a renewed flash of affection for the often emotionless man.

"No, I can take care of myself. We'll be in a public area. I just wanted to tell you guys, and ask if maybe you can get me some information on Shinra. . . if you can." Vincent nodded, silently promising to help that much. "And. . ." This part was slightly more embarrassing. "To borrow Yuffie's dress."

"You wanna what?!" Yuffie look dismayed at the request.

"You have a dress?" Vincent arched a fine eyebrow and tried to look into the blushing face of his partner.

"So? I had to buy one for when a friend of the family came to check up on me a year or so ago. Tifa helped me buy it and after I wore it for dinner I tossed it somewhere and forgot all about it." She gave a piercing look at Tifa that said that she would have liked it better if Tifa had forgotten about it too. "Real ninja's don't wear dresses."

"Well, just lend it to me for today and then you can go back to forgetting it again. I don't have anything to wear to somewhere as posh as The Reactor." Yuffie and Vincent looked at Tifa with surprise, yet again. It was the day for it apparently.

"He's takin' you there?" Yuffie gave a low whistle. "I'd look out if I were you. Only high powered snobs go there. I wouldn't be caught dead in a place like that."

"Just lend me the dress." Tifa wasn't in the mood to argue. Yuffie gave a little nod and they made their way out of Vincent's work room.

"I'll be back in a bit, Vince. Take over my spot out front, ok?" He heard the door to the shop open and close.

"You have a dress?" Vincent said, helplessly to the empty room.

* * *

Now that she was here, Tifa felt like an idiot. The green dress that had been somewhat loose on Yuffie's spare form stuck on Tifa like a second skin. The deep emerald green was striking, and the form it outline was similarly striking and the admiring glances she received from several old looking men whose bellies seemed to extend well beyond the bounds of her expectations. If she had it her way, she would have smacked them for obviously undressing her with their eyes, but it was somehow also comforting to know that she hadn't worn something unflattering. Then again, Yuffie had voiced her worries fairly succinctly when she had said 'damn, Tif, you look like a lady.' Coming from Yuffie, those words were less admirable than they could have been from someone else.

The head waiter met her and asked her for her reservation.

"I'm with Mr. Nova." Even the waiter looked like he was from a higher class than she was. Again she cursed the false stratification of society that money caused, and the class consciousness that had been ingrained into her because of it. She refused to let it daunt her. People were people, and these were just people with a lot of money and a lot of ego.

The instant respect that lot the man's eyes made her want to smack him. It shouldn't work that way. She should be worth just as much regardless of who she knew. What a stupid world.

"Right this way, madam." Through the twisting floor plan, Tifa looked at who else was dining at various tables. There was an elderly couple, distinguished, carefully eating salad with fork and knife. A middle aged man and his suspiciously young wife dug into a plate of mushrooms stuffed with some mixture, and the simpering young lady dripped with jewels that Tifa thought would comprise at least half of the lady's weight. A family was at a booth, surrounded by exotic looking plants, and the children were fighting about something as the parents ignored them. Nova was nowhere to be seen. As they exited the main dining area, Tifa got a little nervous. The waiter stopped a room with sliding doors, and revealed Nova alone at a two person table, clutched as usual with his eternal ennui.

"Sir." He gave a little bow. "Madam." Another little bow. "I'll be in for your orders in a few moments." The door shut behind him and the room grew darker, only lit by low lamps in each corner. A beautiful forest had been pained on the walls, and she concentrated on that rather than the blond man who rose in front of her.

"You're late, Miss Lockhart." He pulled out her chair. She chose not to make eye contact.

"I forgot what time you had written down." She answered honestly, her bravado of earlier now seeming childish in light of her forgetfulness. "I'm sorry."

"Quite all right. A gentleman expects a lady to be fashionably late, after all. Though an hour is a little uncommon." After Tifa sat down he returned to his side of the table. "What do you think of the room?"

"It's lovely. It makes me miss the forest. Then again, I liked everywhere I traveled, but I have some fond memories of camping out in the forest. It wasn't cold like the desert or mountains at night, and it wasn't loud and windy like the plains. Plus, when it rained, it was always nice to have a tress to block some of it." She tried to stop the words, but nervousness sometimes forced her to make a fool of herself.

"I'm afraid I never really had the time or inclination to travel like that. You certainly make it sound. . . rustic." His eyes had not left her direction, though she noticed them pull up to meet her eyes at the last second. So he had noticed the way the dress was straining to hold in her cleavage as well. Somehow it comforted her to think that at least he was human and male enough to stare at her breasts even if he was a ruthless and unforgiving bastard in many other ways.

"I assure you it was some of the best times of my life." They were, too, and she stayed unabashedly honest as she had been since she walked in the door. "What about you, Mr. Nova? What was one of the best times of your life?"

"It has all been fairly similar. I don't usually set such a sentimental value system on my experiences." He picked up the glass of wine that sat in front of him and took a long drink. "But you speak with such passion you almost make me wish I did, Miss Lockhart." Her name was a purr, and Tifa wondered if he was trying to seduce her. If so, then he had a long way to go yet. A very Yuffie-ish snort escaped her at the thought of this man trying to seduce her. Not that he wasn't handsome. . . in that villainous way, of course.

"Is something I said amusing to you, Miss Lockhart?"

"Not really, Mr. Nova." Like she would explain that last thought. This night was already uncomfortable enough. Maybe her uneasy state was far too obvious, because Nova looked completely at home and in control. Of course that idea just made Tifa scowl even harder.

His smile was faint, and as he leaned forward some thin blond hair fell into his eyes from the smooth quaff. "I assure you, I am not trying to do anything underhanded here, Miss Lockhart. I simply wanted to meet somewhere less formal where we could discuss things in a relaxed manner. Please, look at the menu and decided on something to eat. Tonight is on me, of course."

It was like some sort of twisted date, Tifa thought to herself. She skimmed the names of food, most of them foreign and unpronounceable, and reflected on that. When was the last time she went on a real date? One with someone she was in interested in? Years at least, but she was having trouble remembering an exact instance. Her musing was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind her.

"What would madam like this evening?" It was with great difficulty that she stopped her automatic response of rolling to the side and kicking for the knees. When had the waiter returned? She should have sensed it or heard it. Irritation at how out of it her instincts were at the moment multiplied when she realized she had not really thought about what to eat. She would make this as expensive as possible for that bastard Nova, if it killed her to eat every bite.

"I'll have this, this, and this." Tifa pointed and watched as the well trained man simply took down her order without a second thought.

"And sir has ordered previously, correct?" Nova gave a lofty nod. "Your appetizer will be in after a moment."

"Appetizer?" Nova gave Tifa a look. She had no idea what she had ordered and it was news to her too.

"Yes." Tifa gave a bland smile. "Now, shall we get down to business? I want to know what this compromise is that you are so convinced is a perfect solution."

His eyes locked on hers, washed out blue on cinnamon, and Tifa found that she was regarding this whole evening like a bout in a ring. Even looking at him, it was a contest of will, and frankly it was a lot more trouble than just slugging it out with this guy.

"Miss Lockhart, it is terrible to discuss business before dinner, can't you just allow me the pleasure of getting to know you a bit better? I promise you that after a meal, we will both feel much more amiable." Tifa blew at her bangs in more than slight exasperation. "Or perhaps you could tell me what you think of me, instead. You're confrontational nature is most diverting."

"I'm not here to amuse you." This was entirely unacceptable. She just wanted to get out of here and he was trying to make small talk?

"I'm sorry I implied that, but I merely. . ."

"You want to know what I think of you?" She interrupted him and tried to sit comfortably in this dress, with minimal success. Her patience, thin at best, was about ready to snap. "I think you are sleaze. I think that you shoved out a large proportion of a population that can't defend itself just so you could make another dollar. I think that I've met you before and didn't like you then, just as I don't like you now. We are different people who want totally different things and I don't even know why I agreed to meet you tonight." She took a breath, chest heaving from her sudden loud outburst.

"Well, Miss Lockhart," he said, a genuine smile gracing his features for the first time since she had encountered him today. "Do you feel better now?" He didn't seem at all shocked by her fit. That doused her inner fire as if he had thrown a bucket of water on her. Now she just felt small.

"I suppose this is just another thing for you to laugh at, but you must understand that my bar is all I have in the world. It's my purpose. And so is helping people, which I can do through my bar. When I see you coming in and taking it all away from me step by step, I can't help but be defensive." Tifa twisted her napkin in her hand and looked down at its convolutions. All she could do was vocalize what was in her heart, and often it was more powerful than she realized. Nova's eyes flashed something that gave him a moment of pause while he analyzed it, before he finally spoke.

"Do you remember. . . what am I saying, of course you remember when Midgar fell." Tifa looked up to find that Nova was looking to his left at the wall and sipping from his wine glass. "I lost everything that day, and when I arrived here in Jarta I was just like those people you say you want to protect: poor, helpless, a nobody. I've built up an empire from nothing and I have a lot riding on my completion of this hotel: reputation and capital. Right now I am at a precarious time, when things are still solidifying, but I've built all this with my own power and I won't let anyone take it away from me." His hand tightened and the fragile stem of the wine glass shattered in his grasp as wine and blood mixed on the white tablecloth. Nova glanced at the wound in annoyance and simply turned to regard Tifa again with that impassive stare.

"Miss Lockhart, now do you understand that my will is as strong as yours in this?"

"I guess," Tifa said, choosing her words carefully. "I guess we aren't that different after all."

"Appetizers." The waiter opened the door and set down a tray of something that still appeared to be, er, wiggling. "Would sir like me to get help?" The waiter seemed perfectly calm in the face of Nova's bleeding hand.

"Just get me another glass of wine and a clean napkin, thank you." He waited for the man to leave and then without even the slightest sign that he was feeling pain he cleaned out the wound with his water, squeezed the lemon on it from the water and then bound it with his napkin. Tifa's eyes were wide as she watched. It was just like when had traveled with Cloud. Once she had watched him, when they had been short on healing droughts, bind his own broken arm with a similar stoic efficiency.

"Do you know what this is?" She pointed to the still squirming dish.

"No idea. You ordered it." He seemed amused again. "Is it not what you ordered?"

"Um." Would it be bad to say yes? He'd know it was a lie, but admitting to ordering things out of spite was just as bad in its own way. "Look. . ."

He waved his bound right hand, dismissing her confession. "Don't worry about it, Miss Lockhart. I won't make you eat anything I myself wouldn't be willing to try, and right now I don't feel like fighting my dinner before I eat it." Tifa laughed a little at that.

The rest of dinner continued without mishap. Through salad and the main course (which turned out to be fairly common and most certainly dead and cooked) they spoke little and most of it was just commenting on the food. Tifa found herself staring ever now and again at the man so meticulously eating his meal. Even the way he ate was refined and she did her best to just remember which forks to use.

It occurred to her that he even looked a little like Cloud. Well, he was a little taller and a little less muscular. Oh, and the hair was lighter as were the eyes. But there was just something about him that reminded her of her disappeared boyfrien. . . no he wasn't that anymore. No one who left without notice and didn't contact her for 5 years could be considered to still hold such a claim on her heart.

'But he does, somehow, doesn't he?' she gave herself a mental slap and set down her silverware. She wasn't hungry anymore.

"Is the food not to your liking?" Nova hadn't looked at her, but somehow she got the sense that he had been aware that she had been staring at him for quite some time.

"The food is fine, thank you, I am simply full."

"I hope you saved room for dessert. I took the liberty of ordering it before you even got here. We can enjoy it while I explain what my proposition is to you." When he put it like that it only made Tifa more nervous. This was the evening for conflicting feelings apparently. She was left to stew in her own fidgeting world until some attendants came in to clear away the food and bring in the dessert. All inclination to decline it on principle dispelled when she sighted the luscious pile of chocolate mousse that was placed in front of her. It was decorated with little flakes of white chocolate on its peak as if it were a small mountain. She had always had a soft spot for chocolate, which is why she almost never bought it.

"Are you ready to talk, Miss Lockhart?"

"Mmm?" She tore her eyes away from the beautiful sight of dessert and started to wonder if this devilish man had any idea of the devastating effect he was having on her in conjunction with the temping confection.

"Since you refuse to vacate your bar, and I refuse to build somewhere else, I propose we move your entire bar exactly fifty yards so that you are out of the building zone. Then I can go ahead and get the area zoned properly and my hotel built. I'll even pay for the move." This was too good to be true. Tifa forced her hand away from the small spoon that had been delivered with the mousse and looked up.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. You simply have to sign a contract that essentially promises that if you take action against the building of the hotel, terrorist or otherwise, then I will gain immediate control of your bar, your assets, everything." Tifa gasped a little. He obviously was making reference to her time in AVALANCHE. It was an unexpected blow, and one which could still get her into a fair bit of trouble even now. Those days were over and she was no longer involved in violent protests, but even so she didn't like her rights being limited.

"I'll have to think about it, as I'm not sure if I can agree to those conditions so readily. You could always frame me and just take my bar and save yourself all this trouble." When it came to treachery, she could be wary even if that wasn't how she thought normally. This man, however, was not her friend.

"I promise you, Miss Lockhart, I would not do something so dishonest. And of course that is simply a rough way of putting it. I am just offering a compromise for the price of your cooperation. And this way you can keep your. . . Rusty Wrench." He said the words as if they were filthy. Tifa, who had been wavering on the side of liking this self made man, suddenly recalled why she hated him. How could she even start comparing him to Cloud? Then again, these days he wasn't exactly high on her list of favorite people. Maybe the analogy could still stand.

"Mr. Nova, you have a deal. I won't protest against your hotel, and you will move my bar and go back to acting like I, and the rest of my class, don't exist. Good evening." She rose, with great force of will to ignore the beautiful shining dessert that lay untouched. Nova rose with her, like the gentleman she doubted he was.

"I'll have a lawyer bring the contract around for you to sign the day after tomorrow, Miss Lockhart. Good evening." He held out his hand, and Tifa grasped it as if to give a regular handshake but he turned it and brought her hand to his lips. She withdrew it as soon as his lips pressed against her knuckled, somewhat embarrassed and turned in a swirl of hair to let herself out. "You look very lovely tonight, by the way Miss Lockhart." Her cheeks flushed as she pulled open the screen door.

"Thanks." She bit out as she swiftly made her way out of the restaurant and away from HIM.

The evening hadn't been a total loss, at least she would get to keep her bar. She thought to herself as the lift went down and flashing lights illuminated her face in stripes as she flew down past each level. But contracts and legalese were not something she wanted to deal with. It would be best to consult Vincent. Then again, Vincent was at heart a soldier as well, and he only knew what he had gathered over the past few years. No, she could handle this herself. Tifa had faith that her own power was enough.

Now, if she could just convince her brain of that as well as her heart then she would be in good shape.