DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Square Enix and not me. I only own the plotbunnies!

WARNING: Contains heavy violence, alcohol use, drug use, sex, and language.

C H A P T E R - O N E

The Devil's Shot Glass.

Seemed like a reasonable name for a bar in this part of town. Dark and unscrupulous and so downright dirty you had to fight the urge to run home and jump in the shower. The smell around here was damn overpowering too. You could practically taste the foul mixture of blood and alcohol and urine that stained the streets. Handfuls of seedy looking characters loomed in the shadows, their hollow eyes watching your every movement with a sort of twisted hunger that would make your stomach churn.

I didn't mind, though. I grew up in places like this. Dank and dirty and unforgiving. Probably why I was so messed up myself. I didn't exactly inherit my love of alcohol, cigarettes, and rough sex from my old man. It was the streets that did it. The streets raised me. They fed me and taught me and punished me just like any normal parent would. Not my dad, though. He had been too caught up in his job to give a damn about the little seven hear old boy tugging on his jacket asking to play cops and robbers.

He was a Turk, and no one came between a Turk and his assignments. Not even his only son. It was a job that required thick skin, street smarts, and a whole lot of balls. He risked his life every single day, assassinating and kidnapping some of the most wanted criminals in all of Midgar. It wasn't exactly the kind of job you brought to Parent Day at school, but I couldn't help but admire my father. He was the only family I had and, to me, he was the only hero I had.

After he was killed, I was left to raise myself. I was only fifteen at the time; barely old enough to drive or even shave. It hurt me pretty bad to no longer have any family to look out for me, but I took it with the best of my abilities. It was an honourable Turk's death, after all. He had been assassinated on the job. My father died doing what he loved.

That was probably why I took on his job after he passed. He was never the affectionate type. Not a hugger or even much of a talker. Nothing I did ever did got me a simple "good job, son", or even the fabled "I love you". It was tough, but I stuck through it without a tear. Weakness wasn't tolerated in my father's eyes. So I convinced myself that being a Turk was the only way to get him to notice me, even after death. I was hired at the age of eighteen and, five years later, I was still going strong. I even made it to Second-in-Command.

Even though he was long dead, I had a feeling he was finally proud of me.

Tonight had been filled with the usual events: chases, gun-fights, interrogations. A typical good time for a Turk, but it had left me exhausted and sore out of my mind. I hadn't gotten very much sleep lately what with my assignments piling up, and Tseng wasn't about to give me a day off anytime soon. I wanted to head home and crawl into bed before my next shift, but there was still one thing I needed to do to help me end the day. I needed a nice hard drink.

The Devil's Shot Glass wasn't my usual spot for a few quick drinks. Most nights I ventured over to Seventh Heaven where Cloud and the rest of the AVALANCHE gang would keep me at the bar for hours to talk. I enjoyed it well-enough, but tonight I wasn't in the mood to socialize. I just wanted to get nice and buzzed, then stagger on home to my bed. Plus, this bar was a hell of a lot closer to my place than Seventh Heaven was. If I wanted to get hammered, I wasn't going to walk clear across the whole damned city to do it.

Shoving my hands deep inside my pockets, I stepped into the bar. The night had been cold and damp, and it was nice to be in a warm place for a while. It was fairly small, too. It probably couldn't house more than fifty people at most. The dim lighting kept the mood as dreary as it had been outside, accompanied by dark walls, strange music, and creaky hardwood floors permanently stained with alcohol and blood. There was even a small stage set up where an exotic dancer could do his work. It didn't faze me, though. Things like this were pretty typical for a bar in this part of Midgar. Just as long as they had booze, I was fine with anything.

I took a seat on one of the stools at the bar; keeping a wary eye on the company I was sharing. There weren't many people in the room, but I couldn't let my guard down for a second. Who knew how many Goddamn druggies and schizophrenics walked these streets.

While the bartender tended to another order, I looked back over my shoulder at the stripper gracing the small stage at the other end of the room. He was a young man, tall, and undeniably attractive with a head of long silver hair and glowing green eyes. His lean body was clad in nothing but tight leather pants, and he swayed and flowed like liquid to the beats pumping from the stereo system, sliding and grinding down the pole as if it were something else entirely. His fair skin glowed with sweat in the dim lighting, and he tossed his hair back with a slight buck of his hips. There was no doubt in my mind that this guy knew he could wrap anyone around his little finger. He oozed sex-appeal and confidence. It didn't affect me, though. Sure, the guy was damn pretty, and could probably make anyone scream in the bedroom, but he wasn't my type. He was far too elegant and delicate for someone like me. I liked 'em rough and raw and passionate. I wondered how a guy like him could get such a degrading job, but I wasn't one to judge considering my own choice of occupation. Whatever puts money in your pocket.

When I heard a glass hit the bar top, I turned back and saw a small shot of whiskey sitting right in front of me. I frowned and looked up at the bartender, who shared the same glowing green eyes as the exotic dancer. He was a big guy. Real big, with a strong chest and arms that made me look like a little girl. He looked as though he could literally knock my head right off my shoulders with a single punch. His hair was silver as well, but short and slicked back. I guessed he may have had some relation to the stripper due to their similarities. It was either that or silver hair was the new fad and I hadn't gotten the memo yet.

"Excuse me, yo." I said, motioning to the drink. I kept my voice calm for fear of getting knocked out by the guy. "But I didn't order this."

He nodded in understanding as he wiped an empty glass with a cloth. "It's courtesy of the gentleman at the end of the bar."

I blinked and looked over at the small figure sitting at the far end of the bar, drink in hand. It was a young man, very young. He couldn't have been older than sixteen, and I wondered how on earth he managed to get into the bar in the first place. He was incredibly attractive though, with shoulder-length silver hair and bright green eyes that peered across the room at me through a delicate curtain of bangs. There was no doubt in my mind that all three of them must have been related in some way. I would have mistaken them for triplets if it wasn't for the obvious age differences. The teen's long fingers swirled around the rim of his glass of booze in boredom, and I couldn't help but smirk. I had no idea why this kid bought me a drink and, frankly, I didn't give a damn. He was gorgeous, and I could see hints of intelligence and mischief glinting in his eyes. Perhaps this night would end on a good note and I would end up fucking him in one of the bathroom stalls. He looked like he would have very pretty screams.

The young man smirked at me, and lifted his own glass in a toast in my direction. I returned the smile and raised the shot in the air before downing it in one gulp. The hot sensation of the alcohol burned my throat as it went down. It tasted kind of funny, but I didn't care. Alcohol was alcohol. I looked over at the teen, who was casually sipping his drink. I watched those full moist lips curl over the rim of the glass with every drink he took, and I shivered at the thought of the mouth somewhere else.

With a sigh, I shook my head and rubbed my tired eyes. I was beginning to think with my hips, rather than my head, and I did my best to dismiss any dirty thoughts I had of the boy. I had no idea who he was. If he spent his night's hanging around bars like this, it would be a stupid idea to try anything with him. He could have been some druggie, or a vicious psychopath. Sure, yeah, he was pretty young, but I had seen worse growing up. Maniacs had to start somewhere, right? What made this kid any different?

When I heard another glass hit the bar top, I turned my attention back and was shocked to find yet another shot sitting in front of me. I looked up at the huge bartender with a raised eyebrow.

"This one from you, now?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Guess again."

With a smirk, I looked back at the teen at the end of the bar. He was busy watching the exotic dancer sway to the music, while absentmindedly fiddling with his glass. Grabbing my shot, I stood up and walked over to the young man before plopping myself on one of the stools next to him. He didn't even look over at me.

"If you're gonna buy me drinks, yo," I smiled at him. "I should at least know your name."

The boy chuckled softly, glowing green eyes meeting mine. I shivered when I saw that his pupils were shaped like cat-slits. They were eerie, but hauntingly beautiful. "Is that so?" He asked me, his voice cool and smooth, but still young.

"Yeah." I rested my elbows on the bar top. "It's not everyday I get offered a drink from a complete stranger. You don't even know me."

He took another sip, watching the dancer. "Don't be so sure about that."

"Oh?" I raised a brow. "Then who am I?"

He looked at me, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "Reno Sinclair. Second-in-Command of the Turks."

I blinked. "How'd you know that?"

"Well, your Turk's uniform gave away your occupation as soon as you walked in." He explained, swirling his glass. "As for your name, I know there are only four Turk's in ShinRa thus far. Tseng wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this, Rude doesn't drink, and Elena is female. So, that just leaves you, Reno."

I frowned, my mind racing. "What…how…how do you know all these things?"

"I know much about the ShinRa Electric Power Company." He said simply, taking another drink. "And all who inhabit it."

"But, how?" I scratched my head, frowning. "You know someone who works there?"

"You could say that."

"Who?" I asked, feeling a little more curious by the second.

He finished the remainder of booze from his glass before answering, his voice dark. "Professor Hojo."

I shuddered, knowing that name far too well. The man didn't exactly have the most…sane reputation in the ShinRa Labs. "That creep? He a friend of yours?"

"Not at all."

"Good." I frowned, looking down into my shot. I stared at my reflection in the tiny glass of amber liquid, and then emptied it in one swig. My vision was starting to blur a bit, and I rubbed my eyes. I couldn't have been drunk already, so I guessed it was probably the exhaustion. It was pretty damn late.

"Care for another one?" The boy asked, leaning a bit closer.

I looked over at him, smirking. "If I didn't know better, yo, I'd say you were trying to get me drunk so you could take advantage of me."

He chuckled, brushing back a delicate silver strand from his face. "Is there something wrong with being hospitable once in a while?"

"In a place like this, it's kinda odd, yo." I smiled.

He nodded and crossed a long lithe leg. I drank in his whole body with my eyes, feeling my mouth go dry at the sight of him. He was wearing a pair of tight leather pants complete with knee-high leather boots adorned in vicious silver buckles. A long black trench coat hung down to his ankles, covering a simple white dress shirt that was unbuttoned half-way down his pale toned chest. His long fingers tapped rhythmically on the bar top, adorned in black fingerless gloves. I silently hoped he was planning on taking advantage of me. What I would have given to have that hot body pressed against mine. When my eyes caught sight of a rather large bulge at the front of the boy's pants, I couldn't help but smirk. Perhaps my wishes were coming true.

"Gettin' a little excited there?" I asked, leaning in closer to him so that our faces were practically touching.

He laughed, unfazed, and reached into his pants. My heart started to race in excitement, until he finally pulled out what was really causing the bulge. A gun.

"Whoa now." I sat back. "You know how to use one of those?"

"Fuck yes, I do." He stroked the weapon affectionately. "Same with knives. You'll see that I'm good at handling weaponry. Very good."

"I'll…see?" What did he mean by that? I frowned and ran my fingers back through my surprisingly damp hair. I didn't even notice how much I was sweating. "Is…is it getting hot in here, yo?"

"No." He said, eyeing me rather intently, almost like a cat watching a mouse.

I rubbed my eyes, since they were starting to blur again. Something didn't feel right. My body was covered in sweat, and my vision began to go. I felt incredibly lightheaded as well. I clutched the edge of the bar to keep myself from falling over. It couldn't have been the alcohol, could it? I only had two measly little shots!

"I…I don't feel too well." I muttered, holding my pounding head. "Maybe I should go."

As soon as I rose to my feet, my legs suddenly gave out under me and I collapsed to the floor. I was so weak. My body felt like it weighted a thousand pounds. The room spun around me, and I shut my eyes, but even in the darkness I still felt dizzy.

"H-Help…me…" I looked over my shoulder at the boy, who hadn't even moved from his spot on the stool. "P-Please…"

To my surprise, he simply laughed. A dark, menacing laugh. "Now, why would I want to do that?"

"Because there's something wrong!" I shouted up at him with the best of my abilities. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

As soon as those words escaped my lips, the teen was suddenly on top of me. I could feel his weight on my back, crushing me harder against the cold hardwood floor. I tried to buck him off me, but I was far too weak, and he effortlessly overpowered me. One of his hands grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back painfully. It felt like my neck was going to snap at any moment. I groaned, looking up into glinting green eyes.

"G-Get the fuck off me, you little punk!" I growled.

"Who are you to demand anything of me?" He hissed into my ear. "You ShinRa lapdog!"

Desperate, I looked up at the stripper, who was watching the scene intently from the stage. "Help me! Please! Get him off me!"

The long-haired man chuckled coldly, but didn't move. The bartender hadn't even bothered to help, and I knew he could get this kid off me in a second. Damn it, they were all in it together! Those drinks…those fucking shots did this to me! They must have been drugged. I cursed myself over and over again for becoming so vulnerable to these maniacs. My dad would turn in his grave if he could see me now.

I thrashed beneath the youth, trying to break free. It was no use. My body was too damned weak to do anything! I started to panic. "What the hell are you gonna do? Rape me?"

He forced a laugh. "Ha! Rape you? I think not." He grazed the tip of his gun over my temple, the steel cold against my skin. "No…we have much better plans for you, Reno."

I swallowed hard. "You gonna kill me?"

"No."

"Then what the fuck do you want from me, yo?" I started to feel myself fade into blackness, but I held on. I couldn't pass out. Not with this psycho kid on my back! "I ain't special! I don't have anything you want!"

"You don't, no. But, you do know someone who does." He smiled; a wicked, cruel, insane smile. "And you're gonna help us get it."

"You expect me to fucking rob for you?"

"Of course not." He kept the gun pressed firmly to my head. "That would be stupid."

I groaned as my head and body kept urging me to just close my eyes and give in. "Then…what the h-hell do you want? I don't understand!"

"You'll will, soon enough." He smirked, grazing the tip of his tongue over the silver loop imbedded in my ear. I couldn't help but shiver. "By the way, the name is Kadaj. And until I get what I want, you belong to me."

With that, he took the back of my hair and slammed my head against the hard floor, knocking me out instantly.

What the fuck had I gotten myself into this time?