Cloud in a dress. That was something to see. It left Barret in stitches; it wasn’t something he’d expected and it was so damn funny.

It was difficult to look, even when he composed himself, because it was Cloud, and satin, and his angry standing indignant with hands on hips, and Barret wondered whether this was new or he was slow to find out.

"You’d make a fine woman." Although he meant to apologize, that was good, too.

That helped, even if it were only a smirk. "You wish."
 

So the next time Barret dropped in unannounced, he brought flowers.