What Is and What Never Was

Sometimes when his eyes close he hears a gunshot. The sound makes him flinch, so he tries to keep his eyes open, but sometimes he hears that shot and the memory bubbles to the surface. Alcohol helps dull the images, the scents, and pain. But in the small hours of the morning, sometimes he hears her laughter, sees her copper curls, and smells the faint exotic smell of her shampoo. Sometimes he can't drown her out no matter how hard he wishes he could. And when that happens, he's forced to walk the long hallways of his mind toward an office door.

There is a small brown number affixed to the front of the door: 6S-89. It is two doors down from his office. The door is ajar, soft yellow light spilling from the edges. As he approaches he can hear the clink of metal. As he pushes the door open, he can see her slender form leaning over her desk. Her gun is in pieces, a cleaning rag in her hands. She looks up. For a second he sees death in her eyes, but he just doesn't recognize it fast enough.

"Hey babe," he says. "Working late?"

She grimaces. "Yeah, well, not really. Just cleaning my gun." She fits a brush into the barrel and shrugs. "It's been a hell of a week."

Reno edges further into the room. Her office is small. Her desk is rammed against the wall, littered with papers. Five or six filing cabinets line the walls. On top of them is a collection of stupid plushie toys that he keeps buying her. She says her favorite is Carbuncle, but he knows she likes the stupid fire-bird that looks like its brain got cooked. It's actually missing an eye and has a few blood stains because he got in a fight before he gave it to her.

"You're here late," she says. The shades are pulled and she only has a desk lamp lit, so most of the room is in shadow. Reno hops onto her desk. "I guess we're all working late these days," she adds.

"Yeah, well, there's less of us around, yo," Reno says. He remembers how his thoughts lingered on Tseng's unexpected ascension to the role of director of the Turks. So much drama that he missed it, missed the sadness in the set of her shoulders.

"Death," she says. "I always thought it would be me leaving."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well, you can't go. Who'd do Shinra's dirty work then? Me and Rude, that's who." He paused. "Oh yeah, and the new girl: Elena."

Cissnei laughs. It even lights up her eyes for a split second. "Yeah, she's so shiny though. Not sure if she can cut it."

"Tseng thinks she can. I trust Tseng, so I guess it'll be good enough for me."

"I trust Tseng too, but . . ."

"But nothing," he says. "Trust Tseng. He'll get us through this alive, yo."

Cissnei didn't answer. Just returns to cleaning her gun. The scent of gun oil lingers in the air. Reno's mind wanders. He wants to kiss her, but is pretty sure that he'd end up apologizing profusely while lying beneath her booted foot. Instead he imagines how soft her lips would be when pressed against his. He imagines his fingers twined in her hair and her calloused fingers sliding beneath his dress shirt, pressing against his back. Skin to skin. Her fingers are always hot.

She sighs. "Just can't catch a break," she mutters, tossing the brush onto the desk.

"No?" Reno asks, drawn from his fantasy.

She puts the gun barrel down. "Reno . . . do you think I'm pretty?"

"I guess," he says. He's playing it cool. No way in hell he's gonna tell her she is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. No way in hell he's going to tell her that he's stopped sleeping around because he can't get her out of his head. It's too damn risky.

"Hmm."

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," she says. She unbuttons her black suit jacket and drapes it across the back of her chair. Her bra is visible beneath her white dress shirt. It's crimson. Reno adjusts himself in his pants, hoping for discreetness. Cissnei's eyes meet his and hold for a second. His thoughts are clouded by lust, but he's always been sharp. There's that something in her eyes again.

Reno pops his leg to hide his attraction to her.

"You ever want more?" she asks.

"Always."

"More what?"

"More everything, babe," he says. "Obviously."

"More love?"

He snorts before he can stop himself. "Don't be stupid. There's no such thing, Ciss. No goddamn such thing."

She swallows hard, visibly. "You sure? Zack Fair –"

"Yeah, yeah, and the Slums girl," Reno interrupts. He doesn't like Zack and is secretly glad that the guy is dead. His existence messed Cissnei up and made Reno jealous. He didn't like being jealous because he liked to pretend Cissnei was just another girl.

"Aeris," Cissnei supplies the girl's name even though Reno isn't searching. "Her name is –"

Reno picked his nose. "Ain't love. Just lust. And if it is love, it's only because they're special." He said 'special' with a sneer.

Cissnei sighs again. "I'd like to be special." She starts reassembling her gun.

"Yeah, well, it can't have been love, Cissnei. True love conquers all. As I recall, SOLDIER-boy got shot, stabbed, blown up and damn near eviscerated by the army."

She nods. "Yeah, that's what happened. Because of us –"

"Not us," Reno corrects. "He screwed that up himself. He should have stayed away."

"He came back for Aeris. Because he loved her." She takes a box of ammunition from a drawer and pops several rounds into her clip. Each bullet makes a soft, familiar click as it falls into place. "I think . . . I think I loved him, Reno." She slides the clip into place, and racks a shot into the chamber out of habit.

Reno hates this subject. He hops off the desk and heads toward the door. "You don't love him."

"I don't know if I do," she says. There's a thin note in her voice. "How am I supposed to know? What am I supposed to do now?"

Reno spins to glare at her. "He's dead, yo. You don't love him. You don't get it anyway. You're not Elena."

She just stares at him. Her skin is pale. Her eyes are ordinary brown, ringed by dark lashes. She closes her eyes, breaking eye contact. For a second her lashes tremble against her cheek. He takes a step toward her, something stupid about to tumble from his mouth. Then they open again. He thinks he sees the shine of restrained tears. "What do you mean about Elena?"

"Elena thinks she loves Tseng, and that's okay because she's a rookie. She doesn't know that all love is temporary and false. An illusion for the ignorant. Turks know better. There's lust, sure, and respect, but not love. Love is for saps and dead people. If you think you want love, you should just pop that gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. It'll be a faster death than what 'love' will lead you too, yo."

Cissnei nods slightly, jerkily. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Reno bits the inside of his lip. He's worried that she's going to cry, so he turns away. He doesn't want to see his angel cry. He leaves the room, calling over his shoulder. "When you're done here, you should come drinking with me and Rude."

As he walks away, he debates going back and telling her that he thinks he loves her. But he's afraid of what she would say. Besides, his old man always said he loved his mother but that didn't stop him from beating the shit out of her. So he keeps walking.

Then the gunshot.

He spins, heading back at a dead run. Her door is still ajar. Light still spills out. Inside, the clink of metal has been replaced by a more organic sound. A steady dripping noise. "Cissnei?" he calls, voice tight.

She doesn't answer. She doesn't have to. He already knows what happened. He knows what that look in her eyes was now.

A couple of SOLDIERS come running. "What happened?" they demand. "We heard shots."

"Bullshit," Reno says. He's lit a cigarette and is smoking outside her door. "You heard one shot. I tried lighting my cigarette with a gunshot. It didn't work."

They're less than impressed, but they leave. He doesn't want them to see her. After he finishes his smoke, he goes into the room. Normally he can divorce death from his reality, but this time it is too damn close. He can't magically transform her from the love of his life into a nameless corpse. He vomits several times and cries for a good long hour. Then he cleans her office off all traces of blood.

He buries in his family plot someplace west of Midgar. He stares for a long while at the concrete angel marking her grave. Its head is turned to the heavens, stone wings promising freedom. He pours good whisky into the ground and lays a single white carnation against the stone.

He doesn't tell Tseng or Rude what happened. It'll just hurt them. He doesn't tell Elena because she doesn't deserve to know. She's not a Turk in his eyes. She's just a silly girl who fell in love with Tseng. And Reno doesn't approve of love anymore.

He drinks and prays that one day he'll have just a second more to tell Cissnei that he did love her, and that he's sorry he never told her.

Author's Note: This is dedicated to licoriceallsorts who has been supporting my stories since I started writing them. Thanks for reading my stuff. You get my Turks. This one is a bit different than what I usually go for, but the scene has been bouncing around since I heard that you liked unrequited love between Cissnei and Reno. I hope you like it.