Notes
Turtle's Paradise. The most well known bar in Wutai; but tonight he didn't want to even be at a populated place, bar or not. So walking past, he roamed the streets of Wutai until he came to a smaller bar with the flickering neon lights that read 'It Ain't Heaven.' Pushing the door open, he came to a normal, smaller sized bar that was dirtier and darker than Turtle's Paradise, with two pool tables and a couple of gruff looking men playing two drunk-off-their-asses Wutain men who missed the ball a few times before they actually hit it. At the bar were a few quieter folks, some looking downright miserable, though there was an older business man who was red-faced and roaring with laughter as he smacked one of his young female companion's ass. There was one man who was holding a beer in his hand that looked untouched, and was ever so subtly watching one of the drunk Wutains who was playing pool. Bodyguard or assassin, it was hard to tell, but Reno would bet a hundred bucks he wasn't unarmed.
He sat down at short end of the L shaped bar. The bartender was a busty Wutian brunette who looked as though she could easily deal with any one stupid enough to try something on her or her bar. A lopsided smile spilled onto his lips; she reminded him of Lockhart of AVALANCHE, and thinking of the uncanny similarity, he barely registered what he ordered. Reno took it and surveyed the rest of the bar's inhabitants. Behind the bar was a scruffy white mutt of a dog who had a black leather collar for attempts at looking intimating, an attempt that failed as the dog's tongue lolled out of his mouth happily. One female companion of the business man was laughing and batting eyelashes, as was the other girl on the other side of the businessman, looking just the part she was playing with blonde hair swept up and a low cut red dress. This clearly was the last stop of the night, and the girls didn't really seem to understand why they were there. The assassin paid for an untouched beer and walked out of the door. His empty barstool revealed a new figure.
The person sat in the far corner, at what would be the top of the L. A hood of the zip up grey hoddie was dipped enough to cover and shadow eyes from view, though the bottom of the nose and down was visible. By their arm was a drink, and though some had been sipped, it seemed that this person wasn't here for drinking. Apparently Reno's gaze didn't go unnoticed, for the head moved to the left a tiny fraction, hardly at all, but Reno saw it was just enough to see him out of their peripheral vision. The napkin on the bar fluttered as the person puffed air out of their nose in the equivalent of a snort and the head shook from side to side ever so slightly, disbelief on the lips that curled into a wry smile. Reno downed the liquid in his shot glass, feeling the fierce burn down his throat. That burn is what most came here for, and he saw a neon sign on the wall that said 'Get Plastered.' Well. That was exactly what he planned to do.
Reno was here alone. In Wutai alone, the bar alone; alone but never lonely. That's what they invented alcohol for.
Elena and Rude were somewhere around this Planet. After the Fall of ShinRa, the organization called the Turks had died in all but name and a blue suit. Still, they wore the same blue suits and when Neo-Shinra rose, they became bodyguards and otherwise for Reeve. The Turks would never be what they had been, but there would be occasions where the Turks had to intervene with dirtier business – which wasn't nearly as bad as some of their other jobs. The Turks had fallen far from their former glory.
Then Reeve had ordered them a vacation. Vacation? The hell? A vacation was just more time to think, something Reno had learned could be horribly dangerous. Elena had gone off to search of her missing family, in hopes of them being alive. Rude had joined her, and they'd asked Reno if he'd wanted to come. He didn't, and lied about having friends he would go visit. Not that they'd been fooled, but they knew Reno and his moods well enough to (very reluctantly) let him take his path. Well, only after Elena had pestered him for what seemed like forever. So he'd wandered away from Midgar and gotten on the first train he saw. He'd stay in towns for a while, and then leave by the first available transportation. That was how he'd ended up in Costa del Sol, where he'd gotten on a boat. A boat that took him to Wutai.
Now he was here, PHS turned off; the last he'd heard from Elena, they'd found her little brother. He'd been taken in by another family. After all, after disaster everyone became family, right? Wrong, but people did tend to actually pretend to give a fuck about the people around them. Now, Reno was in Wutai without a clue what he was doing there and how long he would stay. Reno looked up from his musings in time to see the cloaked figure say something to the bartender, who nodded and gave a smile. The bartender went to fix up something, and to Reno's surprise came up and put the drink down in front of him. Well, if you could call it a drink.
The contraption somehow managed to be an incredibly dark blue color, black swirling at the bottom and lacing through the drink. The little umbrella that stuck out of it was black, accompanied by an equally dark straw. But as the bartender put it down, she didn't say who it came from, though she moved her head in the direction of the person in the corner. He gave a nod, but when he looked down a piece of white caught his eye. A piece of paper, the corner just under the edge of the drink.
Half expecting to see a number with a name scrawled above it, he opened it to find, instead, words. The person in the corner wasn't drinking anymore, head at that very subtle angle that meant she was watching. Watching him. So he kept a corner of his vision on the person and looked down to read the words.
In black ink and neat print – Common, not Wutain – read the words: Grossness. It's a Turkey.
He couldn't help but grin; perhaps it was the alcohol or perhaps it wasn't. But there was only one person who used the words 'Grossness' and would have the nerve to call him a 'Turkey.' So he dug in his pockets until he found a small square pad of white post-it note like paper. Looking over at her, he saw the head turn more to him than it had so far and saw white teeth flash into a grin. Getting a pen, he wrote his reply.
Well fuck. It's the brat.
He'd sent he note back and watched as she read it. He saw a grimace but when she gave him a sideways glance and saw him watching she turned it into a cheeky grin. The bartender came back with the note, apparently amused.
What's tha matter Turkey? Scared?
Reno snorted. As if, Short Stack. He scribbled.
One of the drunk pool-playing Wutains checked his watch in a teetering manner and tripped over his feet before saying a slurred word in Wutain, stumbling to the door. The assassin wouldn't have much trouble. Another life would end. Distracted from this by a returning note, he looked over at who was undoubtedly Yuffie and vaguely wondered what she was doing in a backstreet bar. After all, wasn't she important or something? ….the Princess. That's who she was.
I whooped 'cha plenty of times before and I can do it again, Suit!
By the way, aren't you going to drink that?
Cheekily she drank from the brightly colored drink by her right arm, one that was complete with a brightly colored umbrella and a yellow, orange and red twisty straw, looking over at him. Well, at least Reno understood the hoodie; the Princess of Wutai probably shouldn't be seen inside a bar, especially at midnight or beyond. One of the rich man's companions was sending furtive glances over at Reno whenever the business man was otherwise occupied, but he found himself ignoring her gazes completely.
Doubt that Princess; what will you do without your little friends?
What the hell is this thing anyway?
He looked at the drink again, and with his sleeve next to it he saw that the color of the drink matched his Turk jacket perfectly. Not that he hadn't realized that already, but it was surprising how exactly it matched. The door behind him opened, and one hand subconsciously slid to the gun in the holster. But the shaken looking female seemed to pose no threat, gazing down at the bar with tear torn eyes. She held herself tightly around the middle, shaking and not even ordering a drink. Fingers were tinged with red.
Yuffie sent him a glare and sneer, and the bartender (getting slightly annoyed by their notes now, but quickly distracted by the new female) brought over the new note.
Ha! I could beat your sorry Turk ass on my own; you had your friends with you too, don't forget.
Officially it's called 'Nightmare.' …But everyone calls it a 'Turk.'
Reno stared at the drink and looked dubiously over at the ninja, who stuck her tongue out in return. Two pairs of eyes drifted to the shaken girl the bartender tried to console. The corners of Yuffie's lips tugged downwards.
Right, brat. I'd say we should settle it, but I'd undoubtedly end up in a jail cell with the resident Bubba. I always end up with the resident jailhouse Bubba. You can imagine what horrors a pretty man like me has to avoid.
You aren't serious.
The note was taken to Yuffie, who spoke with the bartender briefly. The shaken woman was led through a door that held a flight of stairs, bartender leading her up. Yuffie sat up on the bar and swung her legs over, dropping down behind the bar. The business man ordered something for his girls and him, and Yuffie quickly obliged him, never letting the hood of her large, but fitting, hoodie drop. The assassin came in again, tucking a handkerchief he'd been holding into a pocket. He sat. The business man seemed to not even have realized he'd been gone, nor did anyone else at the bar. No heads turned when the door had opened, no glances given to soundless feet. To them, he'd been there the whole time, and after all, a room full of people was a solid alibi; only Reno, Yuffie and the bartender could say otherwise. They wouldn't.
Reno realized Yuffie had come over in front of his seat, and her hood slid back just enough so he could see her eyes dancing at him. She pushed the drink at him, dropping a note in front of him as she trotted over to oblige the assassin's order for a beer. Her lips were tugging into a frown. She shouldn't frown.
Yes, Blue Suit, I am serious and you are going to drink it.
The assassin noted the change in bartenders but only noted it. If you ask no questions you get none in return. Yuffie trotted back and shoved the drink even closer to Reno.
"So what if I won't drink it?" Reno asked.
She placed a hand on her hip. "No one disobeys Lady Yuffie on her own turf. In fact, I could cartwheel around you wearing nothing but a tea cozy and order you to eat cat food and you'd have to obey." She glanced at him and lifted her nose in mock-haughtiness. "Not that I'd allow a Turkey like you to see a foxy girl like me in the nude."
Reno snorted. "Nothing foxy bout you, brat." As an afterthought, he added, "and I highly doubt you could do that."
She gave him a glare. "I'll have you know that there are men who would jump off Da Chao to have my hand. Besides, you haven't seen me in two years, and you're a Turk and a foreigner, so anything you say is unimportant. So is the matter of whether or not I could cartwheel around you wearing only a tea cozy. Now drink, slave."
He eyed the drink in distaste. "Why are you being friendly?" he demanded suspiciously.
"Please, Turk. Don't start thinking we're friends or anything. But everyone who comes here is trying to get away from something. I decided that my dazzling presence would remind you that you can't escape anything, because you're a Turk."
Reno rolled his eyes. "So what am I trying to get away from?"
"Everything. Midgar, Rude, Elena – if they're still alive that is – AVALANCHE, the fact that yours is a dying breed."
He pretended to be ignorant. "Who's a dying breed?"
Yuffie made a drink and slid it down the bar to one of the pool-playing men who was demanding she get her 'disguised little ass' down there. "Turks. Renos. Redheads. That suit."
"Redheads are not a dying breed." He protested.
"Are too."
"How would you know? Everyone's brunette or black haired round here."
Yuffie ignored him.
"So what are the rest of us here getting away from?" he asked, motioning to the people around the bar. Yuffie leaned against the part of the long-section of the bar right at the corner, so she could see the inhabitants and Reno at the same time.
She pointed to the businessman. "He's running from time, trying to forget he's old and only getting older by dating girls who only want a piece of his fortune; but he only wants a piece of their ass so it all works out." She motioned to the assassin. "Would be the police if they posed even a mild threat. Maybe avenging families. His mind whispers that he's only good for one thing. Or so he's been led to believe. Now he thinks it's too late." She pointed at the door behind which the bartender and the girl disappeared. "The bartender is trying to get away from Wutai, and the guilt that comes from escaping her family. Miss Shaky can't come to terms with that she just killed a man." She looked over at the pool men, almost sorrowfully, but not quite. "They lost themselves a long time ago…but they have no where else to go."
Reno looked at each in turn, and then turned eyes to her. "And you?"
Her stormy grey eyes turned to him. "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."
"And me?"
"We discussed this, Carrot Top. You're just trying to escape everything, if only to distract yourself from the fact you have nothing."
He looked at her.
"And escaping that you already knew that."
Reno raised an eyebrow at her. "And since when has the brat been so deep?"
Yuffie glared and crossed her arms over her chest. The bartender emerged and waved to Yuffie, who slid over the bar and sat next to Reno, toying with a napkin. "Please. I learned how to read people before I learned how to actually read. I'm a ninja, remember?"
He did. As she sat, he also noticed that her legs hadn't gotten any shorter. Feeling her glare he looked back up at her. "Besides. When you hang around Tifa too much, you learn a thing or two about bleeding hearts."
Reno ran fingers through his hair. "Boobs may try to cure the bleeding hearts of the world, but AVALANCHE in itself is just one big gathering of 'em."
Yuffie stared at his drink. "…tell me about it."
Giving her a curious look, she continued to stare at his drink. Why was he still wearing his Turk uniform? Then again, the rest of his wardrobe had probably died out during his Turk years. Wasn't it sad, that all he had was a blue suit and the shell of a different life? Then again, she could never bring herself to pity people; it was a wasted emotion. No one wanted it, no one appreciated it, and there's no use in giving it. Except to get yourself out of a bind or a speeding ticket, but that was a different story.
"Well I'm out Turkey." She spun around in the barstool to face the door and hopped down, walking to the door. Yuffie pushed the door open to walk out into the night.
She didn't look back.
Reno watched her leave and looked at his drink and the sleeve next to it. So close in color, as if the sleeve had bled blue into the drink. Even alcohol couldn't stay pure these days. With a glance at the small form that disappeared into the darkness and behind a closed door, he raised the glass and took a drink of Turk.
It was better than he'd expected.
--
Disclaimer: Don't own any Final Fantasy things, I do own the bar he was in, the drink Nightmare/Turk, and the random people in the bar.
A/N: Yuffie and Reno meeting in a Wutain bar may be cliche, much, but its a theme that I like for some reason, and this probably won't be the last one of these you see from me. I was thinking about continuing this beyond a one-shot.
