Plot Summary: Cloud Strife was a thief working undercover as a lowly trooper to bring down Shinra. Only 16, his home town of Nibelheim was destroyed by Shinra, burning the town to the ground, killing its residents, and blowing up the Mako reactor. The only question was, why? And what other secrets was Shinra hiding? All Cloud can remember of that night is Sephiroth's face amid the burning flames…

Disclaimer: This is going to be the first and last time we do this disclaimer. I'm sure it's pretty obvious that we don't own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters; Square Enix apparently does (our corporate takeover plans are still in the works).

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive."

Sir Walter Scott


Always be alert. Never drop your guard. Those were the words that the Shinra Thief, as he had come to be called, lived by, and it was the lesson that he had been taught to hold above all others. Vincent had been a harsh if fair instructor and the thief, at sixteen, had been taught in two years more than most 1st class SOLDIERs learned in a lifetime. Or Turks, the thief thought wryly. He stopped above the ledge of a window. By his calculations he was already on the 68th floor and although this wasn't the first time he had scaled such a large building, it was still a struggle not to look down. It was his bad luck that he often suffered vertigo and the only way to cope with being at such heights was to convince himself that he was still very close to the ground. The thief gritted his teeth and moved his hands so that they gripped the stone tightly even as he brought one leg up and extended his other arm to reach toward the next ledge.

This was not his first foray into larceny nor would it be his last. He, a small-town boy from backwoods nowhere, had become not just proficient at the art of thievery but had become extremely good at it. Between the Turk training he had received from Vincent, the martial arts lessons he had received from Zangan, and some ninja stealth techniques he had picked up from a Wutaian ninja arts master named Kukashi, he was practically unstoppable. In the last few months he had become a noticeable thorn in Shinra's side as he proceeded to strip the organization of materia, weapons, gil, and information.

Straining his ears to detect any sound above the cool night breeze, he continued his ascent, praying that his accomplices had finished the task of disabling the guards above. He hadn't heard the alarm being raised or received the shrill owl cry that was their usual "goat-fuck" signal. Four minutes later he arrived at the 69th floor. His breath wheezed in and out of his chest and a light sheen of sweat covered every inch of his body and stung his eyes. He spent another couple of minutes composing himself before reaching into the pack at his waist, bringing out a thick soft cloth which he wrapped around his hand and wrist, then snapping back his fist and hitting the window which smashed inward, glass tinkling off the window pane and onto the thick carpet. The thief shook his head at Shinra's stupidity. There was no alarm for the windows higher than the 45th floor and he thought it utter arrogance that the Company trusted Shinra Headquarters' security to a few inept guards. Okay, more than a few, and the alarm system for the upper and lower floors were first-rate, but that wouldn't stop a determined thief and it certainly hadn't stopped him from scaling the building. True, he hadn't exactly scaled all 70 floors, more like two, but still…

Using the cloth to remove any remaining glass surrounding the pane, he then swung both legs forward over the ledge and dropped lightly and soundlessly to the floor. He held still and silent for a full minute before proceeding through the dark interior of the outer office. His ultimate goal was the President's office situated a floor above him on the right corner of the building. Most of the upper echelons of Shinra's officers and military personnel were at a charity function, leaving the top three floors of the building empty of people. And if they weren't…the thief shook his head. Better not to borrow trouble. Better to steal it, he thought with a slight smirk.

If all had gone correctly, the guards that should be patrolling the floor would be occupied for at least another twenty minutes, giving him just enough time to raid the President's office and get back out again undetected. The cameras on the top two floors had already been disabled and he proceeded unhindered through the hallway to the elevator. He entered the wide glass chamber and pulled out the keycard that one of his accomplices had managed to obtain from a senior Shinra official, biting his lip at the thought of what she must have done to get it before shoving it into the lock core and pushing the button. The elevator rose slowly and from his vantage point he could see the green glow of the city below, lights twinkling faintly from the surrounding buildings and Shinra searchlights moving in a constant sweep over the exterior of the building.

For what seemed like endless minutes the elevator rose and the thief checked his watch to monitor the time. Seventeen minutes left. That meant twelve minutes to make it to the office and raid what he could, another five minutes to make his way out of the building. The elevator dinged as it reached the 70th floor and the thief gasped lightly at the noise. He swallowed and willed his body to relax. He wouldn't do anybody any good being this jumpy.

He stepped lightly out into the hall, more aware now of the ticking away of the time, his mental clock counting away the seconds as he made his way toward the corner office. When he finally reached it he was more than surprised to find the door open. Why would President Shinra leave the door to his office open? The thief's footsteps slowed as he approached the door and cautiously pushed it open farther. The interior was dark and empty but for the huge desk and computer at its center, a mini bar on the right adjacent to the door, and a large black leather sofa up against the left wall.

He made his way silently to the desk and crouched low as he flipped on the computer, gritting his teeth at the time it took to boot up and rather than sit in quiet frustration he opted to raid the desk drawers. He knew he wasn't likely to find much in unlocked desk drawers but figured 'what the hell' and began to rummage thoroughly but neatly through them. As he had anticipated he found nothing of interest but for some Busty Beauties magazines in the bottom drawer and three left-over chocolate wrappers. Once the computer booted completely the thief pulled out a blank disc from the pack around his waist and inserted it into the disk drive. Rather than having to hack his way into the computer the thief simply typed in the known password, smirking in triumph when the computer dinged its approval and President Shinra's files icon was displayed.

The password had been Layla, and it had been Jessie, one of his accomplices and friends who had discovered it. Jessie's mother was a well-known prostitute who had somehow managed to draw the eye of the President at one of his "private" parties. She had been his on-again, off-again mistress for well over a decade and Jessie had grown up under the "patronage" of President Shinra. With each passing year she had grown to hate him more as she was called by the neighborhood residents "the President Slut's Brat". Her loathing came to an all-time high the day she overheard the President bragging over the phone that no one would ever guess that his computer password was the name of a two-bit whore. Jessie had decided how best to use the information, had found the thief, and the rest had been history.

He clicked onto each file, not sparing a glance for their contents as he copied each one quickly to the blank disc, knowing that he would have time to look over the information later. Suddenly a shadowy movement near the door caught his eye and he hastily ejected the disc, stuffing it quickly into his waist pouch. The thief's eyes did not immediately focus on anything and after a minute of silence and continued peace he decided that he had had enough and rose to make his way to the door.

"Going somewhere?" a deep voice said from the direction of the door and the thief's eyes widened in shock and dismay as a shadow emerged. Every fiber in the thief's body coiled in preparation to take flight as the tall figure stepped closer and his features became discernible.

General Sephiroth.

There was no mistaking, even in the darkness, the long length of silver hair that fell past his waist, the poison-green eyes that gleamed from a perfectly sculpted face, and the creak of black leather offset by silver metal epaulettes on each shoulder. Sephiroth approached him with glowing eyes bright against the darkness and a smooth grace that so reminded the thief of a great cat stalking its prey that for an unaccountable moment he froze stiffly, still in the half-crouch he had assumed upon the General's first words to him.

Sephiroth had positioned himself in front of the door. The thief was fast but no one was that fast. All of Midgar, hell, the world, knew that General Sephiroth was a formidable opponent. Still, there might be no other way but to—

"I wouldn't if I were you." The words were spoken softly and incongruously tinged with pity. That couldn't be right. Shinra's General, the Demon of Wutai, didn't feel pity for anyone or anything. No, he could expect nothing of the kind from this silver monstrosity. It was only a spot of wishful thinking influenced by another time, another place, when the man before him had seemed a hero, and such thinking was best eradicated now.

To the thief's knowledge no other exit existed and for a moment panic welled in his chest and his heartbeat fluttered erratically at the knowledge that he might very well be trapped and all of his plans could go down in flames. But memories of Vincent's training came to the forefront, words of advice to remain calm under the greatest times of stress and to keep plans flexible in case an emergency should arise. Lie, Distract, Evade, Regroup.

"Wha' would you 'ave me do? Stand 'ere quietlike while you tie the noose 'round me neck? Not fuckin' likely." Only a faint tremble marked the uncertainty in the thief's cocky tone.

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to embark upon this career. Give up quietly and I promise you will meet no immediate harm." Again the words were spoken softly and the thief had to strain to hear the words even in the still quiet of the room. He knew that Sephiroth was only trying to lull him into a false sense of security, all the better to pounce on his unsuspecting prey later.

"That's the rub, ain't it? Immediate 'arm withstandin'." The thief's eyes darted about the room, searching for any other viable means of escape. As if reading his mind, Sephiroth spoke again.

"There's nowhere to run, boy. Guards are in the outer hall, and I," he nodded his head once and a brief smile flitted to his thin sensual lips—"well, I am here."

"So I see," the thief murmured. He cocked his head, listening intently for the sound of encroaching guards but could detect no sound other than his own faint breathing and strong heartbeat. "Right-o, Gen'ral," the thief said, cockiness once again lacing his words, "You got me fair 'n square. But why, I'm wonderin', ain't your guards here to put me under arrest. Why're you 'ere if you're guards could handle me? Surely such a regiment could handle one lil' old unarmed thief?"

"Very good, very astute," Sephiroth said, his tone shaded with condescending approbation. "But the games are over. I want to see your hands above your head. Anyone as good with a pick-lock as you is bound to be just as good with a knife."

"Yer not scared of lil' old me are you, Gen'ral," the thief said derisively.

"Hardly." Sephiroth's eyes gleamed faintly with disdain before he spoke again. "But I believe in caution as well as expedience. Now, no more talk. Hands above your head. Slowly."

The thief raised his hands mockingly slow above his head and the General approached him, silently taking two more steps toward him so that he now had to look up to meet Sephiroth's eyes. This close the thief could make out the porcelain perfection of the General's face, the arrogantly arched brows over glittering watchful green eyes, and the sensuous bow of his lower lip.

"Jes' wha' sorta deal is it you lookin' to make? A bit o' the take? Somethin' to turn a blind eye?"

Sephiroth stopped and surveyed the thief for a moment before replying. "No, I want something that you've already taken."

"Oh?" What the fuck could that be? In all the time the thief had raided Shinra's stores he had never come across anything that could be of the slightest interest to the General. What could possibly be so important that Shinra's great General had been sent to retrieve it? His eyes once again darted urgently to the door and then in hasty speculation to the window. He took a step back toward the desk. Where there's a will, there's a way.

"I told you to stop moving." Sephiroth's voice had taken on the subtle hint of danger, like the barest hint of a blade's edge.

The thief shuddered at the sound, his body reacting to the deadly warning in the General's voice with a flickering of pleasure. Lately, more often than not, audacity had proven too tempting to resist, the adrenaline such escapades entailed demanding more and more risk, and the urge to give in uncontainable.

Sephiroth had once again begun his approach toward the thief and in desperation the thief pressed himself against the General in a move to distract as well as to disarm his opponent. Sephiroth stood stunned for a moment as the thief's hands moved toward the Generals waist.

"Ain't you wantin' to search me afore you take me to the pen?" The thief's words came out in a breathy rush as he concentrated on subtly sliding one hand toward his waist pack, his body still pressed flush against Sephiroth's tensile form.

The General stood frozen for another instant before he reached out to grab the hand that had been placed at his waist. The thief jerked back instinctively, fighting the implacable hold that Sephiroth had on him before he stopped moving entirely, aware of the merciless grip that the larger man had that would brook no struggle.

"I just wanted to reassure you that I ain't got no shiv on me person." The thief shrugged lightly before he began once again to make slight movements with his right arm to reach further into his pack, clutching a small, marble, sized sphere that he knew to be materia. He grasped it tightly in his hand, his left still held tightly in Sephiroth's grasp.

"Shiv?" Sephiroth asked quizzically, tightening his hold on the wrist he held. The thief could tell that the General was attempting to discern his features under the mask he wore which left only his mouth and chin visible, his eyes nothing but a shadowy glitter surrounded by dark cloth.

"You know, me sticker." When Sephiroth still showed no sign of understanding, the thief let out an exasperated breath. "Me knife. You can check to see I ain't got no knife. I always was a gen'lman," he said with a slight quirk to his lips.

Sephiroth removed his hand from the thief's wrist which had been the thief's ultimate goal in offering the search. He brought his arm up in a subtle movement, distracting the General with his gaze while he slotted the materia to the titan bangle he wore around his right wrist.

"Go ahead. Search me." The thief's voice was once again brash and Sephiroth's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I think I will," the General replied and slowly crouched down before the thief. He moved down toward the thief's ankles, feeling around his boots then sliding up his calves to the back of his knees. The thief couldn't repress a gasping breath at the sensation and struggled to remain still under the searching hands. They slid further up his thighs, grazed lightly but firmly around his groin, and his heart sped up slightly and he inhaled sharply, holding his breath until they made their way toward his waist and hips. Sephiroth's eyes once again narrowed as they reached the pack and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could get the words out the thief brought his right arm up and the Ice 3 spell he had slotted rushed from the materia and into the General's startled face.

He knew that he only had seconds to make his escape and that his only advantage lay in the fact that he had yet to see the famed Masamune sword, nor had he seen it anywhere on Sephiroth's person. An instant later a blast of flame shot from where Sephiroth's body had frozen for an instant still in the half crouch he had assumed when he had been searching the thief. The blast blew out the large window framing the President's office and knocked the thief flat on his back. Sephiroth rose ominously from the floor, his cat-like green eyes glinting with something—was that amusement? It couldn't be. Nothing about this situation was funny.

The thief scrambled to his feet, darting one last desperate look toward the door before catching a final glimpse of Sephiroth's shocked face as he ran toward the window, not even hesitating as he jumped from the room, his body falling for a countless second as he struggled to grasp the ledge beneath.

He managed to grab it in one hand, his body positioned incorrectly to achieve a double-handed grip. His right hand began to slip from the stone ledge and the thief's legs dangled helplessly as he fought to maintain his hold. Suddenly he felt someone grasp his straining hand and he looked up to see Sephiroth laying flat against the floor, his right arm bracing himself against the window as he reached down with his left.

"Hang on," he said, his voice cool and composed, a stark contrast to the thief's madly beating heart and the chaos of smoky residue and shattered glass. "Reach for me and try to brace your legs against the side. Don't worry. I won't let go."

"That's what I'm afraid of," the thief murmured and Sephiroth's eyes gleamed once again with what the thief could swear was suppressed humor.

"Come on. Reach."

Without warning the sound of chopper blades rose above the stillness of the night and light bloomed from overhead in a beam that landed upon the thief. He sighed in relief as he saw his rescue in the form of a descending air ship. The guards above must have been disabled successfully because the thief could hear no sound of rifle fire or alarm.

"Time to go, Gen'ral. I appreciate the help." Sephiroth glared, bewildered as a long rope dropped from the sky right into the grasp of the thief's once dangling hand. He wound both legs about it and made a movement to pull away from him but Sephiroth refused to let go. Tugging sharply, the thief managed to rip his hand away, braced precariously against the window as Sephiroth was, his escape was easy enough and he couldn't help offering a small wave back at the General. Sephiroth stood up as the air ship rose, the thief's form disappearing into the the night.

"Till next time, little one." He smiled darkly and in his eyes was the cold, fierce light of determination.

The thief didn't see his smile, nor did he hear the General's words but he had a feeling that he had stirred some kind of hornet's nest by taunting the silver-haired leader of the Shinra military the way that he had. Still, he had gotten what he'd come for and as he thought this he pulled the little disc out of his waist pouch, smirking in triumph as it glittered faintly in the darkness.

"What the fuck happened! How the hell did Sephiroth know you were there?" Cid Highwind yelled from the pilot's seat, a cigar hanging from the right side of his mouth.

The thief pulled the black mask from his head and a wealth of golden-yellow spikes sprang up, bright blue eyes glinted darkly from the shadows.

"I don't know, Cid. But I'm going to find out. First, though, I'd like you to check out what's on this disc." He tossed the disc to Cid, and the pilot without turning, managed to catch it with the hand not busy steering.

"Nice work, kid."

"Thanks. But we'd better keep the disc between us. At least until we can figure out what went wrong."

"Fine by me. Looks like somebody might've said something. It's the only thing I can think of for Sephiroth's timely appearance," Cid muttered as he chewed on the tip of his cigar.

"Yes," he responded darkly, trying to think of who amongst his friends and associates could possibly be responsible for the General's knowledge. Not only had Sephiroth known he was there, he had been waiting for him, and that above anything told him that they had a traitor in their midst. He brushed a hand through his untamable gold spikes, dissatisfied with the idea, not wanting to suspect any member of his crew, but unable to deny the culpability of at least one. And what had Sephiroth wanted from him? What could he possibly have that Shinra's pet General was sent after him? He sighed heavily. He didn't have time for this. Tomorrow he would have to go back undercover, to being plain Cloud Strife, grunt trooper and lowly MP, but for now, they had work to do.

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