Blissful Ignorance

Yes, I know, I'm a freak. Oh and sorry for misspellings, I was rushing a bit, as usual (i.e. no editing was done.)

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Chapter 3

The apartment was unearthly white. It hurt her eyes to look at it. Overhead lights shone down on couches, plush and inviting, and tables and countertops where a bar resided. The bottles were even white, glazed to match the room, and they provided no relief for her eyes. The windows faced west, and Tifa watched the sun set with some dread.

She hadn't put on the dress. Nor would she put on the dress any time soon. She would fight him tooth and nail until Vincent and Yuffie found a way to get her out of here. Legally, preferably, but there was no precedent and facing his lawyers would be a chore and a half.

'I'll be back sometime after dark. I won't give you a time because there is no way I could stick to it. Wear the dress or else.'

Such delightful parting words from her husband.

Even saying the word in her mind caused a reaction to filter from her toes to her head. A shiver of some emotion, fragmented and obscure. She might have called it hate at one time, but it was getting mixed up with other less easily identified aspects. It was almost enough to make a girl do something drastic.

Then again, drastic action is just what got her into this fix in the first place.

* * *

"See? No rips. I didn't even crack my knuckles. You happy now?" Tifa handed back Yuffie her dress, glad that the stretchy material had not permanently preserved a mold of her figure.

"Ya know I wasn't really worried bout the dress, right?" Yuffie gave a curiously pained expression upon receiving back the both hated and cherished article of clothing.

They sat in the house that Vincent and she rented from a little old lady. At first Yuffie and Vincent had had separate residences when they had first gotten to Jarta, but while they were in the throws of starting up their business, Vincent ended up staying over on the couch downstairs so many times that the food he had bought actually rotted in his apartment. The landlady had not been thrilled by the idea of a man moving in, but Vincent was always a perfect gentleman and since both he and Yuffie occupied obviously different rooms she had approved. The old lady had moved out a year ago when her joints had been too deep in the throws of arthritis to make it up the stairs without great difficulty. Now, the house was somewhat less clean and more lived in, but still held up well since Yuffie and Vincent mostly just used it for food and sleep, and if they were on a big job not even that.

"It just don't feel right to me. From what you and I know about this Nova guy, he is not only a bad guy but he's damned smart and powerful, and you're gonna put your pen to a contract of HIS making?" Yuffies struggled to put the dress on a hanger and she kicked some boots out of the way and into her closet. "I don't like it at all."

"Don't worry about me, Yuffie, I can do this. I have to do this. People always try to hold my hand when I make decisions like this." Perhaps for good reason, was what her traitorous mind added silently.

"I'd feel better about it if you let Vince take a look at things, but we just a huge job. Can't refuse it without grave insult and he's a longtime customer. Didn't expect him to leave town so soon actually. . ." Yuffie finally managed to hang up the dress, and then glanced up at empty hangers and down at all the clothing at her feet that should have been on said hangers. "Bah. We're tough, the two of us. If we can take a bar full of rowdy Turks or a forest full of monsters, then I'm sure you can take down some horrid little man."

"As always, so complimentary. . ." Vincent stood in the doorway, ready to leave, arms crossed. Yuffie grabbed some clothes and stuffed them into a bag along with some random other supplies.

"Sorry 'bout the Turks comment, Vince. Ya know what I mean." Yuffie continued to pack frantically, as she always did before the longer trips. "Now, Tifa, you aren't gonna get into trouble while we're away a couple days right?"

Tifa snorted. "It's me Yuffie, how could you even ask?" A smile broke out almost spontaneously. "Of COURSE I'll get in trouble!" The girls laughed and made their way downstairs, Vincent like a shadow behind them. Yuffie ran ahead after a goodbye while Vincent locked up the house. It wasn't really necessary since everyone in the district knew who they were and anyone who stole from them would have to be suicidal, but he did it to maintain a sense of normalcy in a life that would probably never be normal for him.

Vincent had safely placed his keys back into a pocket in that mysteriously voluminous cloak of his, and then regarded Tifa for a harrowing moment. "Are you sure you have nothing to tell me about Shinra?" His eyes seemed to see into her soul and she shivered. Tifa had chosen not to tell Vincent that she and Nova had already come to an agreement, and she swore Yuffie to secrecy as well. If Vincent knew, he would drop everything and stay here to make sure he helped her out. He was that kind of friend, and Tifa understood that better than anyone because she was that kind of friend too. However, right now that loyalty could cost him his reputation, and maybe even bring him to the attention of a man who could possibly cause him a lot of trouble. Even so, the motivation was also selfish because she wanted to prove to herself that she could do this. No, sending him along was for the best.

"Nothing. When I know something from now on then you'll be the first to know." It was a technically true statement.

"Take care." Vincent swept away and Tifa waved and laughed a little as she saw Yuffie bouncing around impatiently, waiting for him to catch up.

Tifa slowly made her way back to the bar and began to clean up, like she always did, and reflected on what was going to happen. Soon this little bar would be uprooted and transplanted somewhere else and a great hotel would grow above it and shadow it. Even if it attracted patrons from the hotel, she wasn't sure she liked the idea. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that in some ways Nova had already won. Her regulars would feel less and less comfortable and stop coming once more tourists found their way into her doors. Maybe all was not lost. Maybe she could foster an atmosphere where the rich and the poorer elements could come together. Her bar could be equal opportunity. She could even rename it. . . The Citizen's Den. It would be an interesting, and it would take a lot of work, but it had been a while since had something to involve herself with like her days in AVALANCHE.

The knock at the door confused her, and she extracted herself from packing the freezer in back with blocks of meat only to greet a little old man, dressed impeccably, seeming to buzz a little with nervous energy, glasses perched on the tip of his nose. In his hand he clutched a briefcase. As Tifa opened the door, he walked right in and opened the case with snaps and clicks, only to start stacking papers on the newly cleaned off table. He clicked a pen impatiently as he noted Tifa still standing there in shock, door open.

"Well," The man's voice quavered with a whine. "Aren't you going to look them over?"

Tifa shut the door and took off her gloves, sticking them in her apron's pocket, as she walked over to the man who seemed to be shaking with nervous energy from his balding head to his expensive shoes. "And who might you be?"

"I, Miss Lockhart, am Mr. Valen. Senior partner from Valen, Valen, and Gatz. We represent the interests of Mr. Nova and have the contract he asked for prepared. Though I absolutely abhor rush jobs like this. I don't approve at all." He took out a pristine handkerchief and snuffled into it before folding it back up and putting it away. Tifa pulled the papers towards her in the meantime.

The papers made her head spin. The legal jargon seemed to spiral and wave in front of her eyes and she could barely make sense of it. She could hardly believe that she was literate the way she didn't retain any of what was important other than the sense that she was the 'party of the first part'. . . that is unless she was the 'party of the second part.' Maybe sending Vincent away had been a bad decision. Looking over at the lawyer, she decided to trust the little man and ask him what this was actually saying.

"As per your agreement, as Mr. Nova outlined it to me this morning, I have drawn up a contract that stipulates that he will fund the move and relocation of your bar on the condition that you agree to never take terrorist action against his hotel, active or otherwise." Tifa figured it was something like that. It made sense, but it seemed like a lot of pages to simply say that much.

"Nothing else? What are the consequences of my breaking my side of the agreement?" This of course was the crucial point. The little man began to sweat as well as shake and he snuffled into his handkerchief again, withdrawing it and then refolding it again after use.

"A penalty? Yes of course. The loss of your bar, as well as recompense for any damages he sustains from said action." It seemed reasonable enough.

"And that's what it says? You swear on your life that this contract says that?" She allowed some of her natural fighting spirit to manifest and the little man practically crumpled in fear before her.

"It's all in the contract, I swear! Just don't hurt me!" Tifa gave an exasperated sigh and she grabbed the pen out of his hand and he whimpered. She signed and initialed the parts that had been highlighted for her to do so in. When she finished he packed up the papers, took back the pen, and started to leave.

Tifa felt that somehow this had all gone very wrong. "Wait! Don't I get a copy of the contract too?" Her brows knit together and the little man started to cower, even halfway across the room from her.

"You can request a copy from the office tomorrow once we have processed the papers. Now good day, Miss Lockhart. The workers will come tomorrow and start measuring and preparing for the move. I suggest you make plans." He scurried off, like a small rodent, and Tifa briefly hoped he wouldn't have a heart attack on the way back to his office.

What a distinctly odd man. What a distinctly odd morning.

Strangely, she had the vague feeling of dread, like that sapping of her strength the few times she had been poisoned in battle. Why had the contract come today when Nova said it would come tomorrow? It seemed like her brain was trying to scream something at her, something sitting right in front of her, but she just couldn't grasp it. With a shake of her head she dislodged her gloomy musings and took out her gloves, stained red from the meat she had been handling. The shelves of the freezer weren't going to stock themselves.

* * *

Builders came in droves the next day. Tifa, who had announced to the bar clientele last night of the impending move to mixed reactions, was there. She was grumpy and edgy at the way the architects and engineers walked around with disdain in their eyes at such a complex undertaking for such a shabby building. They quoted figures at her, dimensions, weights, what could be moved separately, what electrical grid amenities she would need, what sewage line she would be connected to. . . ad nauseam. When she didn't know what they were talking about as the jargon turned deliberately technical, she imagined herself back in bed, looking at the stars outside.

Part of what made the mornings so difficult for her was the fact that she rarely slept much anymore. Her body wasn't exactly happy with this, but sometimes she had to take a sleeping drought to make sure she got enough to function. The doctors had said it was stress, and last night had certainly been one of the most stressful in weeks. The more she had thought about it, the more she suspected something had gone wrong yesterday. Compounded with the fact that Yuffie's replacement couldn't come in last night had made for a harried and overworked Tifa.

". . . so you see the way the wiring here is set up you'll have to . . ." She nodded again. She had been nodding all morning. It was getting to the point where she wondered if her head would just detach and fall in the dirt at her feet.

"Miss Lockhart!" With a start she regarded the foreman who gave her an irritated glance. "I know you haven't been listening, but you need to know this point. We will set things up as much as possible today and we will actually set up the transport and move it tomorrow. The day after tomorrow we will hook up all your utilities and then you can open up again. You can go now, you don't need to do anything more. Good day." The foreman shouted an order to someone else and Tifa looked on in wonder at the power of money. Her entire livelihood could be moved in a mere three days. Yuffie and Vincent would get home the day she opened up again.

Hm. It occurred to her that if she was going to change the name, which she was still set on doing, then she would have to either make or order a new sign. As she turned around she smacked into a man running with blue prints and fell backwards onto the ground. Apologizing quickly, he kept running.

"Need a hand?" The voice came from above and Tifa recognized it before she ever saw the face that accompanied it.

"Sure. Thanks." There was no need to be spiteful when he was the one paying for all of this.

"I just came by to see how everything was going. My men seem to be taking care of everything beautifully. Many of the same are slated to work on my hotel. They know that as soon as this is out of the way then their real work will begin." There was something akin to smug satisfaction in his tone.

Tifa dusted herself off then crossed her arms over her chest. "Sorry to be 'in the way.' Next time I'll buy a bar in a more convenient part of town." Her words sounded so sour and her lips were so puckered that Nova almost laughed, stopping himself before it escaped with an inwardly questioning look.

He seemed to consider his word a moment, he leaned towards her and spoke quietly into her ear, his voice firmly standing out over the noise regardless. "I know you don't like me, Miss Lockhart, and I assure you I don't care whether or not you don't like me, but know this: I am doing you a favor. I could have squashed you like a bug, dispossessed you of your property and the property of your friends, but instead I did things in a reasonable way, in a fair way, and I think you should give me at least a little credit if not gratitude."

How did he always manage to make her feel so small? So petty? Fine, she was being childish. Some of it was grounded in sour feelings that existed long before today. "Rufus. . ." The words slipped out as her eyes softened for the heartfelt apology she knew she owed him, even as she watched his money bleed away to help her bar. "I'm sorry for treating you so badly."

At the sound of the name 'Rufus', Nova blanched. "I accept your apology, Miss Lockhart, but I suggest you never use that name in my presence again. My name is Mr. Nova. This Mr. Shinra you keep insisting upon referencing is a stranger to me. If Rufus Shinra had been dealing with you, then you would probably be dead right now." His smile was back to being cold and disaffected and he walked away, dust somehow not attaching to his charcoal colored suit as he spoke to the foreman. The foreman looked nervous.

"I know how he feels." Tifa mumbled. "That Nova, every time I talk to him it's like I'm being tested. . . and getting a failing grade."

* * *

Yuffie just stood there. "Holy shit. . ." She experienced a moment of guilt for swearing in front of Vincent, but then remembered that he had probably heard far worse in his day and so said it again just for good measure. "Holy shit."

"Congratulations Tifa, I'm surprised indeed. Does the new location suit you?" Vincent patted her on the back, about as close as he ever got to hugging her, and surveyed the newly renovated bar.

"From what I can tell, they fixed the fridge and the fryer, and everything else is just as good as it ever was if not better. That light in the back doesn't mysteriously blink when you run the garbage disposal anymore too. I think I already miss it though." Her laugh was only a little strained. The rush to get things in place and set up had been horrible and she had slept even less than usual. The bags under her eyes were obvious, but they were excusable.

"Holy shit. . ."

"I wish you had let me look at the contract before you signed it, are you sure the man was telling you the truth when you asked him questions?" Vincent looked around, admiring the new spit and polish that had gone into this simple place which his friend had lavished with so much of the love that could have had a different outlet if a few things had been different.

"He practically went to pieces in front of me. Aren't lawyers obliged to tell the truth?" She wasn't as na?ve as she sounded, but roughly she did expect that from them if they were reputable, (which Valen, Valen, and Gatz was, as her inquiries had told her).

"I am more worried that you didn't ask the right questions."

"Holy shit." Tifa walked over to Yuffie and put her in a playful headlock. The ninja girl squealed and laughed as they played around a bit. "I still can't believe it happened so fast. Boss Nova must burn gil to warm himself at night."

"Don't ask me, I have no idea how much money he has and I don't care. I'll probably never hear from him again, and good riddance, I say. It's creepy. Every time I looked at him, it was like I was looking at a zombie. He'll always be Rufus Shinra to me, and that doesn't exactly inspire any affection from me either."

Vincent smiled almost fondly at the women. "Do you want me to keep making inquiries?"

Tifa considered it a moment. "Might as well. Never know when that sort of information will come in handy. I mean, information is power these days." With a smile that was almost sad she looked down at her hands. "Makes a gal feel obsolete."

"You could always join us, Tifa, and fight monsters! Hiii-ya!" Yuffie did a series of kicks and punches, quick as anything, a light in her eye that told the other two people in the room that she was remembering the battles of the past few days. "Though I think that the monsters are starting to get a clue. They don't hardly attack anymore, or at least they don't attack Vince and me." She looked pretty sad about that particular fact.

The three of them chatted a bit more, until Yuffie unceremoniously announced that she was both tired and hungry still and needed to get into some clothes that hadn't been worn for over two days. As Vincent asked a few more questions about the contract, none of which Tifa could answer, he insisted that she go get a copy of it as soon as possible so that he could examine it. Yuffie promised, as she ran out the door to follow Vincent's retreating form, that after she got clean and presentable she'd be raring to waitress tonight for the grand reopening.

Tifa waved them off and looked up at the sign, The Citizen, and smiled. It was like starting all over again, only this time she wasn't so scared or so alone. Looking around at the old but improved bar she thought about Cloud. It was inevitable to some degree what with how she had had so many dealings with Nova and the two of them were similar enough to comment on it. Why had Cloud just picked up and left all those years ago? It had seemed like they had a good thing going.

Allowing herself the chance to reminisce was rare, so she savored it. It was bitter sweet, but right now she was allow herself to feel the emotions again. Sometimes she wanted to relive the moments in her mind so badly, but she denied herself for the same reason she denied herself chocolate: it was a weakness she couldn't afford. But just as a sweet now and then had its place, so did these memories. God, it felt like forever ago already. She was so young. Honestly, she was still young, but she was much stupider then.

They had shared a house, his mother's house, and it had been comfortable. They only fought over a few things and never for very long. Always she was the passionate one, trying to be as warm and open as she could, while Cloud hid himself away from her. His tendency towards melancholy had never been terribly pronounced, but it was there and she accepted it.

And then he was gone. Disappeared. And she was lost.

Despite herself, and her own resolve to never cry over him again, the tears always came. She didn't let herself just stop and cry but instead put up glasses on a shelf and watching their blurry forms as she blinked. It wasn't as if the tears helped anything. The cold path they created down her cheeks was irritating. Her puffy eyes and stuffed up nose reinforced her resolve not to cry again soon. Sometimes she just had to do it though, so that she could bleed out the pain just a little more. The well would run dry someday, right?

Or else she was just trying to bail herself out of a sinking boat and the sadness would never end.

That was too defeatist. She could be more positive. Today was a day for starting over-a day to be happy.

Simon arrived shortly after she got a grip on herself again and washed out her eyes to hopefully hide the redness that crying brought. He nodded at her and began to start up and check all the kitchen supplies. When she had informed him of the move he hadn't said anything to her, just nodded, and stayed as that rock of a man she had grown to be rather fond of despite his anti-sociability.

Things were looking up. The re-opening would be great. Life would be great. She could handle each problem as it came. The shadow of doubt in her mind about the contract caused her a bit of pause, but she would get a copy as soon as she had some free time and go through it more thoroughly. There was always time.

* * *

Even with some grumbling among her patrons about how she had sold out, something that alienated a few of them, largely Tifa was praised for being able to keep her bar going and alive. Sometimes she received rumors and oblique offers over the next few weeks about protests that the still angry displaced men and women thought she might be interested in. They knew who she was, and the tales of her days in AVALANCHE were coming to more and more years as new somewhat similar groups had begun to form. Some of them were public in form, more like workers unions, and had begun to actually start gaining the roots of what could become some political influence. But as the unions were beginning to spring to life, there were those who wanted more immediate and more violent action. They were the ones Tifa had to tell directly that she wouldn't harbor them or any sort of similar activity in her bar.

She never explained why, and she always maintained that she would help friends in trouble and protect the interests of the common people, but that terrorist policies were not the way to effect real change. Again this met with mixed feelings. The bar started to become a unionist haven for the legitimate new labor union, Workers United. Only the seedier bars in the shady part of town welcomed the militant types, as the oligarchs struggled to deal with this new political force. Every once in a while Tifa would still get offers from those militants, and every time she turned them down as gently as she could, depending on how persistent they were. Strong arm tactics never worked on her - she was far too strong herself.

The main battlefield for both policy and actual violence became Nova's own hotel project. The building was going more slowly due to strikes by the WU, but that had calmed down once Nova had talked with the leaders and come to an agreement. He was too canny to be caught for long in a stalemate, and the other oligarchs looked on in envy as their projects stalled at great cost with little hope of reconciliation. The labor union, while respecting Nova's power and ability, always felt like he was winning some sort of imperceptible battle. The oligarchs were also getting increasingly upset. Politics these days had become volatile.

"And then Vince told him to get out before we took care of him ourselves. I wish we had! Boy these rebels are gettin' on my nerves. Thinkin' they can walk bold as brass into our shop and buy weapons to use on other people. All of it just to get a little more for themselves. Vince is right, dammit, that they can damn well solve their problems over a table rather than with OUR weapons." Yuffie gave a punch to the air for emphasis. "I'm so mad I could just SPIT!" The crowd of regulars around her were admiring how the ninja was so angry and distracted and yet managed to continue to hit bullseyes with her daggers.

Things were pretty cheerful tonight in the bar. The last strike had been days ago, and nearly frostbitten picketers were back in their homes hopefully with a little more fuel from the pay raise to stay warm. Good feelings were in plenty as a city wide holiday was just a few days away in celebration of the winter solstice. There were always lights and fireworks sponsored by the city. Tifa was even considering baking a cake and having a little get together at the bar.

With an absent glance outside she saw the metal structure that was slowly becoming the hotel. There had been no name announced for it yet so everyone just called it 'the hotel'. People knew what you were talking about unless they weren't from around Jarta. Snow was falling softly, giving the ground an odd looking orange glow from the streetlamp outside.

"Everybody out! C'mon it's late and we need our rest!" Tifa began to shoo out customers in various states of inebriation. Simon and Yuffie helped and soon the three of them were all that was left to confront the chaos of empty glasses and bottle, spills, trash, and general debris.

Yuffie helped for a little while, but her yawn was telling. Tifa caught her friend's attention with a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you go on home, Yuffie. Simon and I have it under control."

"Sorry. I've been working on a present for Vince for his birthday. It's the week after next. I thought I'd make him a new red scarf. I swear I'll figure out this whole sewing thing. Those damn needles. . ." Yuffie's smile was scrunched up. "But I started this and I'm goin' to finish it. You know me."

"I sure do, and I hope your, er, scarf goes well." Such things were a mystery to Tifa as well. She could sew holes closed and that included skin as well as cloth. It was useful for a warrior to know, after all, but the original making of the clothes was in that realm of typical womanly arts that she hadn't been too interested in broaching.

Once Yuffie had left, Tifa kept cleaning until Simon made an awkward appearance before her. Usually they finished about the same time, but obviously there was a lot left for Tifa to do. His reluctance to just leave her with all this work merely enforced her private opinion that Simon had a soft heart, not that she'd let him know that.

"It's fine, Simon. I've got it, just go on home. It's cold out and it's going to get colder tomorrow they say." He nodded and with his awkward gait gathered his coats together and left in a swirl of cold air in the room as the door opened and shut. Tifa finished sweeping and gathering things together and deposited some dishes in the sink that she didn't feel like attending to today. The garbage was next, and she dusted off her hands as she walked in to find three slumped over forms in the front room next to some overturned chairs. Without a second thought, she ran over to them.

A muffled pop, and the sound of clanging metal assailed her ears as she got to them. That didn't matter so much to her as getting help for these three men who looked like they were close to death. One of them had a gun still grasped in his hand. Were they cops? What was going on? The other two were bleeding though their coats.

"I'll get some hot water and I'll call an ambulance. Stay there." She was helping one to sit up when the police burst into her bar with enough force to knock the door off of one of its hinges.

"Freeze! You're all coming with us!" With the helmet over their eyes, the five policemen all seemed very strange creatures to Tifa's weary eyes.

"What's going on officer?" Tifa's cry was barely heard over the commotion as the man with the gun lifted it and got off two shot before he was killed by a hail of bullets from the police. They trained their guns on Tifa, as the only other conscious one. She looked at the, unafraid, and extremely pissed off.

"WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?! GET OUT RIGHT NOW!" She went into a fighting position instinctively.

"Drop any weapons you have and stand down!" They yelled at her.

"This is my bar, and I won't take this! Tell me what's going on and put away your guns!"

A can of something dropped and filled the room with smoke. She rushed the group of policemen in a fury and took down two of them before the gas knocked her unconscious, and as she hit her head on a table on the way down to the floor just one thing was clear to her: this didn't look good.

* * *

"I'm afraid you are in violation of your contract and there is very little I can do for you Miss Lockhart." The pinched face of the man who had announced himself as Mr. Gatz seemed cloaked in distaste. "All signs point to your implication in the bombing and if you take this to trial all you have is the good word of your friends to support you. You have no alibi, a history of terrorism and activism, and you attacked and seriously wounded two policemen who had chased the subjects to your bar where you were obviously aiding them."

"What would you do if you saw someone bleeding in front of you? Dammit man, I'm a human being! I have compassion for people, and I even if I had known they were terrorists I would still have tried to help them live!" She paced about the cell that she had been in these past four days. No visitors. Isolated. Mr. Gatz was the first non-guard she had gotten to talk to.

"If they were alive then it might be another matter, because they could testify that you had nothing to do with the bombing. However, the suicides of the remaining members made them martyrs to many people and whatever organization they were part of must feel that they can only benefit by being known as being supported by the famous Tifa Lockhart. Your name had a lot of clout even before this, Miss Lockhart." He looked at her with that face that looked like it had just sucked a lemon and Tifa felt her hopes of being proven innocent seep out of her bones, leaving her tired and drained.

"So what should I do?"

"I think I can provide you with an answer." She turned to regard the voice that had come from behind her. Mr. Gatz respectfully stood. Nova walked into the room and coldly looked down at the only suspect left in the Solstice Bombing Case, as the newspapers called it. "You can leave Mr. Gatz. I'll take it from here, you just finish making the arrangements like I told you."

Mr. Gatz left with a nod, and now Tifa regarded the scarily serious face of Nova, no Rufus Shinra, because they fury and madness that peaked out of his eyes was not at all like the subtly mocking look that Nova had always regarded her with. Her throat was dry. He could do anything to her here and no one would stop him. What if he decided to release that anger? Well, she still had her fists. . .

"Miss Lockhart," Her name was a snarl, nothing respectful about the title as he called her 'miss'. "I face a grave loss these days. As you may or may not be aware of, nearly a third of the building was destroyed by that little bomb. Regardless of whether you were involved or not, circumstances are telling. I am invoking the contract, but I must admit I think you'll be surprised by the condition I demand of you."

"What condition? What are you talking about? Just take my property and let me alone. Press charges, whatever, I have nothing left to lose now." She would do her time, or she would escape and live as a fugitive. She was full of feelings of injustice at how life couldn't let her enjoy any sort of normal life.

"Perhaps you didn't read the contract carefully enough. I, effectively, entitled myself one extra request of you to be made at a later date which you must legally abide by." She seethed, grinding her teeth together and cursing her stupidity. That damn lawyer HAD been hiding something and all of them had sensed it. Why hadn't she ever looked over that copy that she got, which no doubt was still in its dusty corner of her desk at home along with her account books.

His voice continued, low and steady, but carrying a current to it that chilled her. "My request, Miss Lockhart, is your hand in marriage."

"WHAT?" She swatted at the chair she hadn't bothered to sit, knocking it down with enough force to shatter the back of it.

"You will claim that we have been affianced for two months and that I was with you the night of the incident shortly before you discovered the men. You didn't say anything before because you had promised me that you would say nothing of our engagement until I gave you permission to make it public. We will get married tomorrow in a civil service and you will come to live with me. Did I make myself clear enough?"

Tifa leaned against the bars behind her, head swimming, trying to grasp at what little she knew of reality. "Why? I don't understand. . . no. No! This is impossible."

"What's so difficult about it, Miss Lockhart - or Tifa I should say - since it benefits us both so well. You save yourself by gaining an alibi, hence you don't outwardly violate your contract and hence retain legal control of your bar and your freedom. You have everything to gain. And I?" He laughed, and it was high and somewhat frantic. It frightened her to hear him laugh like that far more than if he had threatened her with violence. "I get freedom from those old men trying to shove their daughters at me. I get freedom from having to deal with a messy court case involving one of the saviors of the planet. Most importantly, I gain the power of your name behind mine and will become all the more respected by the labor community. And these days, Tifa, that's where the new power is."

"What if I refuse?" She had to know.

"Then I will expose you, and if I happened to lose my power base I would destroy the Wall." She looked at him like he was insane. That was their protection! So many innocent people would suffer! "You think I wouldn't? My company has been doing most of the work on it for years, and I always make sure to plant just enough security in my work to insure cooperation if I need it."

"You bastard, you planted bombs everywhere on it didn't you?" He just laughed at her again.

"Nothing so sinister, my dear! But I can bring it down as easily as I erected it so I would be careful. Now, is it a deal?" He held out his hand, eyes burning into her with his madness. For a moment, as she paused, she saw him grow tired and pain replaced the madness, but it was just a flash.

She would be selling her soul, but what choice did she have?

"I promise that I will marry you." She took his hand and they had a brief contest of will in which each pressed against the hand of the other with cruel and crushing force. When they relented, neither gave a sign that the other had done more than simply shaken hands.

"I knew you would do the smart thing, Tifa."

"I'm just doing the right thing, Rufus." He smiled as she said his name, but the smile wasn't friendly.

"I get freedom from those old men trying to shove their daughters at me. I get freedom from having to deal with a messy court case involving one of the saviors of the planet. Most importantly, I gain the power of your name behind mine and will become all the more respected by the labor community. And these days, Tifa, that's where the new power is."

Oh really? I think Nova boy missed might have missed one.