Tifa's fists instantly bolted to her hips and her beautiful face creased in a frown. The big man no longer looked the most imposing force within the room. "Barret, what else was I supposed to do?" Tifa's anger was quickly replaced with sorrow; her voice thick and revealing the long-lasting battle that had been raging within her for some time now. "Just let him die?" The words seemingly echoed within the small room and she let them hang there, awaiting a response.

"Aw, Tifa. Don't be goin' soft on me!" He couldn't answer the question. He danced around it, like he always did. How could he answer that? Barret's hard face softened somewhat and he walked over towards the girl. It was easy to tell that the two's many arguments focused on this mysterious stranger. The missing man, whoever he was to Tifa, seemed to cause more grief than any one person was worth, at least in Vincent's eyes.

Now in-between Vincent and Tifa, Barret seemed much taller than he was when standing at the far end of the room. He was at least four inches taller than Vincent, wearing grubby and ripped clothes (much like the rest of the people in the Slums), which did little to hide his broad chest and muscle knotted arms. Though the light had been made brighter, nothing more could be seen on Barret, for his dark chocolate-colored skin blended him well into the shadows. Barret may have appeared hard and impressive, but the gentle look within his eyes showed how much he cared for Tifa. And how much he had worried.

With growing discomfort Vincent stepped away from them both. He watched as Barret brushed away the dirt on the girl's face. The gesture, however, remained brotherly. Obviously, as Vincent observed, these people were more of a family than a simple gang, which could have been assumed by just a glance.

They would look his way soon with questioning eyes, so in one silent movement Vincent hid his arms beneath his cloak again.

"Where'd you meet these people, Teef?" One of the other men asked, stepping hesitantly toward her and Barret. The man was chubby and stout and his face seemed too kind to belong to someone from the Slums. He offered a weak smile to Tifa and his round face lit up when she returned the smile.

Then the man was by Vincent and Cid - he was pretty fast for a chubby guy - and his eyes danced more with amusement than wariness. "My name's Wedge. Thanks for seein' Tifa back safely." Wedge offered his hand to Vincent, but when Vincent simply raised a brow Cid stepped in and grasped the kindly offered greeting.

Cid half-smiled and shook Wedge's hand a bit too firmly, causing Wedge to nearly gasp. "Cid Highwind. Pilot extraordinaire."

Vincent coughed politely.

"Ex-pilot extraordinaire..."

Once his hand was his own again Wedge nodded half-way back to the third man, who was taller than Wedge (though not nearly as tall as Vincent or Barret), with his arms folded and his eyes slightly squinted, as if he was trying to scan Vincent's mind. "He's Biggs."

"And what the hell's your name, bounty hunter?" Barret turned away from Tifa and laid his left hand over his right. That's when Barret's glaring disability became apparent to Vincent and Cid. Much like Vincent's left arm, metal plates glistened from Barret's right. It was of a much darker color, though, and held no likeness to a hand, just a vast round end with various holes; a gun-arm. Disability didn't seem like the right word anymore. It could have very well been grafted to his arm on purpose.

The slightest of smiles brushed Vincent's lips. "Vincent Valentine."

"Barret Wallace." The big man said, frowning again, folding his muscular arms before his chest and straightening his back like he wished to make himself even taller. Neither man offered any form of greeting other than names and they simply stared at each other, as if trying to see which man would blink first, which one would speak first.

But it was neither.

"Barret," Tifa's soft voice interrupted. She looked tired now. Perhaps that fleeting emotional outburst of hers had made her so. Tifa laid her fingers attentively on Barret's folded arms. "You understand why I did this?"

"Thought we agreed I would think 'bout this, Tifa." Barret kept his eyes on Vincent.

Doesn't trust me, Vincent thought wryly. Smart man.

Tifa closed her eyes. She hadn't gotten much rest lately, with all that had been happening. When she did get the time to sleep it was fitful and she woke often, whether it was from the smallest of noises or a terrible nightmare. The lack of sleep seemed to be taking its toll on the girl.

"You never would've searched for him. You don't want to." Despite her obvious weariness, her voice was clear and strong. Tifa hugged herself in the sudden chilliness of the underground room. Not bothering to wait for a response from Barret, the girl went to the far end of the room, sat by the flickering lamp and remained there.

Barret made a face and grumbled loudly. He didn't like arguing with Tifa, but ever since this whole "missing man" thing came about they had been bickering almost every day. In Barret's eyes, Tifa was fighting to keep a piece of a memory alive. It belonged to a ghost from her past, nothing more.

"That's great. We took time out of our damn day to come here for absolutely nothin'? We could've went somewhere else." Cid mumbled and leaned on the cold stone wall, which was covered in maps of the various Sectors in Midgar, newspaper articles and crudely made charts. He looked about his pockets for a cigarette and remembered that that Jessie girl had taken them. "And I could've kept my cigarettes, Valentine..." Cid briefly considered going back up for them, but thought better of it and watched Barret instead.

"We came here because we thought you had a job for us. Was I mistaken, Barret?" Vincent tried the big man's name and it sounded funny on his tongue. Sometimes he wondered just who possessed these people's parents to name their children these ridiculous names.

Barret smiled, but it was the farthest thing from pleasant. "I don't know who the hell you and this Cid are." He made a noise that sounded something like "pfft" and waved his good hand before his face. "Go back to wherever it is you came from. I ain't got nothin' for you here."

Tifa's head snapped in his direction and though Barret didn't look at her, he could feel her sharp gaze drilling through the back of his skull. Her blazing eyes made the big man cringe inwardly. He sorely regretted ever opening his mouth to begin with. Barret went too far. Again.

Swearing under his breath, the big man closed his eyes for a moment. Perhaps he was weighing his options or rethinking his words. "The job..." Barret mumbled, obviously not liking the idea Tifa's sharp eyes revealed. "Make me trust ya and it's yours."

That was enough to make Tifa's glare dissipate.

But it wasn't enough to hold the interest of Vincent.

"I don't care much for proving myself to people that I don't know. This is pointless." Vincent simply said, turning around swiftly towards the pinball machine.

"What are you doing?" Cid mouthed, pushing himself off of the wall and staring wide-eyed at his friend. He knew Vincent didn't like to waste time, but to leave so quickly before the amount of money was stated was surprising. Vincent never did that. Obviously something was wrong.

But Vincent said nothing more. And the shadow of the makeshift elevator covered his companion's bewildered face as he left the basement. The faster he left this tavern, the better he would feel. To be around those particular people bothered him. And what made it worse was that he didn't quite know why. Vincent glanced around the upper room for a moment, ignoring a confused Jessie, and made way for the door.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Jessie placed down her mugs with a loud clattering sound, but didn't try to stop him. With the look he wore on his face, she preferred not to.

"Vincent!"

The pinball machine lowered itself again to the basement and when it rose once more to the tavern, Tifa was on it and impatiently waiting for it to go up again. Before the machine stopped fully, Tifa jumped off in such a rush that she nearly fell. Catching herself she ran out of her tavern, the swinging pub doors practically slamming into either side of the doorway. She thought she heard Jessie yell after her, but she wasn't sure. Her own boots against the wooden floor seemed to pound in her ears and deafen her to anything else.

"Vincent, wait!"

Tifa stopped on the porch, almost running into Vincent, who was merely standing there and looking down at her with his eternally vacant eyes.

"Yes?"

She couldn't be sure, but it was almost as if there was some measure of amusement in his tone. Tifa didn't bother thinking anymore on that matter. She swallowed a breath of the misty air and looked up at him. "Don't leave. I need you."

"Your friend doesn't seem -"

"Forget about Barret! I need you. I hired you. You have to find someone for me!" Tifa was out of breath from simply trying to be heard, and she was exhausted from looking and searching for ghosts. To have Vincent simply walk away was not an option. "I want you to find him."

"Him? And who is "him"?

"Cloud Strife." Just a simple name brought tears to her eyes. And she said it with such sorrow and regret that Vincent nearly had to take one step back.

Vincent remained silent for a few moments, watching Tifa's sad face and peering into her large, brown eyes. There was so much pain there and it was screaming for a voice, crying for someone to help. But greater there was the dread; fear of what could be, of what once was and of what she would soon discover.

It was as if years passed before his lips parted and he whispered, "Are you sure you want me to find him?"

Tifa blinked hard. That wasn't the answer she was expecting from him. In all truth, she didn't even think he would be waiting there to begin with. She was too tired to be insulted, too tired to try to understand what he meant by that. Tifa nodded her head and remained still. Part of her wondered that if she thought more about what Vincent meant, if she actually asked him, the answer would be far worse than the persistent, lingering need to know.

"Then I will find him, Tifa."

Tifa glanced up at him again, trying to see if he was smiling with amusement or frowning with concern. But he was doing neither. Vincent was simply stating the obvious.

He had only said her name once before, and at that time it had annoyed her - he spoke so coldly that she thought he hadn't cared about anything. Now there was something strange in his tone and when he spoke her name this time, she felt a shiver down her spine. Quickly, Tifa dismissed it as the cold air of morning.

As silent as always, Vincent walked past her and went back inside the tavern, leaving Tifa outside in the ghost-like mist with her thoughts. The morning fog, which had been disturbed briefly by Vincent's movements, became still once more. And it surrounded her like the arms of a loved one. But this embrace was not comforting; it was cold and bitter, leaving her with little solace.

She was alone again, like always.

"Cloud?" Cid's face cracked in a smile, but he could do little to contain his coarse laughter, which followed quickly. "What kinda name is "Cloud"?"

"It's a damn name! What the hell's it matter?" Barret grumbled, pounding his fist on the wooden crate besides the table. The dark wood shuttered under the power of his hand, almost spilling the cups placed there by Tifa only a few moments prior.

"Oh, stop sulking, Barret." Jessie smiled.

They were all once again in the tavern and gathered around the counter, except for Barret, who sat but a few feet away with Marlene. Behind Jessie's ear, perched like a diligent bird, was Cid's packet of cigarettes. Cid had tried, without favorable results, to sweet-talk Jessie into giving them back. She said she would, when he was about to leave and not a moment sooner.

Tifa was behind the counter with Jessie, occasionally glancing at Vincent, then back down at the counter and she had kept her stare there through most of the conversation. Jessie pulled herself up on the counter and sat near Biggs and Wedge, on the opposite side. Vincent casually noted to himself that Jessie, Biggs and Wedge seemed inseparable. They must have known each other for a long while to seem so close. It had Vincent wondering how long all of Avalanche - which Vincent had recently learned was the name of these people - had been together.

"I'm against this. Just so ya know." Barret huffed, but immediately brightened when Marlene tugged on his vest to ask him a harmless question about the two new gentlemen. "Later, honey," was all her father said.

Cid shifted on his barstool, watching his cigarettes behind Jessie's ear. "Well, the faster we leave, the faster I can get back what's mine. So where do we find...Cloud?" He smirked again and suppressed a snort. "And money. What's the payment?"

"Payment. That's all people like you is interested in." Barret placed Marlene down from off his lap. "Honey, go play wit' Jessie downstairs."

Jessie shot an irritated glare at Barret, obviously not wanting to be left out of this conversation. But Barret's look was more commanding, so Jessie obeyed, grabbing hold of Marlene's little hand and tugging her along. Still remaining quiet, Biggs soon followed her, clearly not as interested as Jessie was. Wedge looked as if he would follow as well, but then decided to stay instead. He usually did. He liked to know about everything, despite the fact that that everything later led him to worry compulsively. It was as if he tried to find reasons to fret.

"Three thousand. One now, two when the job's done." Barret said flatly, leaving little room for argument. Or so he thought.

Vincent, leaning idly against the back wall, tilted his head to the side in question. "Three thousand gil?" He cast a quick glance to Cid, who looked visibly disappointed.

"Tell me you're jokin'!" Cid practically leaped from out his seat, his sudden outburst causing Wedge to jump in surprise and Barret's scowl to deepen. "We don't even know anythin' about this Cloud."

Barret nodded to Tifa, which took some time to be noticed by the girl for she was so enthralled in her own thoughts, and she shoved her hands into her pockets, fishing for something she couldn't seem to find. Finally finding this particular thing in her back pocket, Tifa handed the item to Barret's awaiting hand. The big man looked it over a few times, then handed it to the ever-impatient Cid.

A picture. Presumably of Cloud Strife.

It didn't seem that old, though the edges were worn and smudged from countless fingering. This Cloud Strife had the most ridiculous hair style; his blond hair was spiked every which way and his clear, strange looking eyes were so sharp that they still had the power to chill Cid to his bones, even if it was merely a photo. They reminded Cid vaguely of Vincent's eyes.

Vincent soon took the picture away from Cid, examining it for himself. Looking it over with as much interest as one would inspect a blank sheet of paper, he casually gave it back to Cid. "He looks young."

"Twenty-one damn years old. Kid wasn't worth half'a the trouble he caused." A shadow passed over Barret's face as he spoke. At first glance, Vincent could have easily dismissed it as the simple disliking of someone, but as he further realized, it wasn't resentment he saw in Barret's dark eyes. It was the harsh aftertaste of betrayal. It had Vincent wondering just what this Cloud did to make such fragile emotions emerge.

Vincent didn't take his eyes off of the picture in Cid's hands as he asked, "Can we keep this?"

Barret glanced to Tifa and when the girl nodded he voiced her agreement. "Keep it. If it helps ya find 'im. That is...if you still wanna." The big man watched Vincent, his expression remaining the same as before. "It'll still be three thousand. I can't give ya anymore. Besides, it's not like you'll be findin' anyone here that can pay ya more."

He did have a point, much to Cid's displeasure. After all, they were in the Slums. It would take long enough to simply find another job and they would probably be spending more money that they didn't have just to get to wherever it was that they should have went to. Vincent nodded slightly, folding his arms before his chest, the golden metal of his left arm shimmering faintly.

"Good," Tifa whispered, nearly sounding relieved and now finally she looked up at the people around her.

She was a bit surprised to see Vincent's metal arm so exposed, especially when he hid it most of the time from curious eyes.

Upon seeing the man's arm, Barret grunted, smiling quietly. "I see we have somethin' in common, bounty hunter."

Vincent watched his robotic hand with impassive eyes. He bent its fingers slightly. "Depends on who gave you yours."

The big man raised a thick brow in wonderment. He would have asked what exactly Vincent had meant by that if it weren't for the interrupting sounds of Cid's chair scraping against the floor. The ex-pilot placed Cloud's picture, which looked more like a mug shot from the man's lifeless expression, on the counter Tifa was leaning on. And with the photo finally facing her, she found herself slipping once more into the deep abyss of her own thoughts. So trapped in her own mind she was that she scarcely heard the conversation around her.

"Do you have any idea where he went?" Vincent. The part of her mind that was still vaguely listening to the discussion registered his unmistakable voice.

Barret snorted and it echoed in Tifa's head, nearly bringing her out of her dream-like state with his next words. "ShinRa." He spat that word. Whatever feelings he had towards Cloud were nothing compared to the deep hatred shown with just that name. "He used to work for 'em, not too long ago. He's just 'bout as rich as the rest of us, so leavin' this city doesn't seem like much of a choice for 'im. He's pretty well trained, from what he said. Shit, I don't wanna get into this." Barret pounded his fist on the table and whatever little bit of fuzzy dreams Tifa was still trapped in vanished completely with the big man's curled up fingers. "Ask Tifa. She knew 'im better."

At the sound of her name, Tifa looked over at Barret. Ask Tifa? She closed her eyes to try to stop any tears that would come and when she opened them again, Vincent was watching her. She blinked a few times to clear her vision. Vincent had looked so blurry just a moment ago. "What more do you want to know?" Tifa had meant to make her voice louder, but it came out as a soft whisper.

Get a hold of yourself, Tifa! she reprimanded herself, you're stronger than this...

"His personality, places he liked to go to, things he took interest in, anything that can help me get inside his head."

Tifa looked down at Cloud's picture again, the man's haunting eyes watching her from behind the glossy paper. He never smiled in pictures. She remembered how he hated having his taken, how much of a fuss he made that day when Tifa wanted to take his picture...

"Tifa?"

"I don't know. He's not the same man I once knew. Anyone could have taken him or kidnapped him or worse, simply because of what secrets he knew and what things he did in Solider."

"You think ShinRa took him?" Vincent's voice neither sounded skeptical nor sincere. But something about his tone, as if he could be doubting her and the man she cared so much for, made something inside her snap.

"I don't know!" Tifa bit her lip almost as fast as those words came.

Barret stood up and his hard face softened once more. "It's okay, Tifa. We can do this later."

"I don't want to talk about how you think he betrayed us!" Tifa moved away from Barret as he walked towards the counter. "I know him. You didn't." Tears fell from her eyes and it caught the light of the softly lit lamps before they glided down her cheeks. "I knew him." She pushed by Vincent silently and went back outside into the cold day's air.

Barret sighed and sat back down, the chair creaking under his muscular frame. "Give her a moment, will ya? She's a bit...touchy when it comes to Cloud."

Vincent shook his head. "Whether I give her a moment or not, she'll always be sensitive when it comes to him." He allowed his cloak to cover his arms again and he followed where Tifa had went. Vincent frowned somewhat.

The girl was impossible.