Open All Night

"Ahhhh ... Miss?" The hotel clerk called out to her in the lobby. His odd, high-pitched voice stopped her in her tracks and she turned to face him, showing a little more of her face than usual. He was a sweaty fat man who wore a dirty shirt to work every day, but she liked him. Anyone else she would've ignored and kept walking.

"You checking out today?" He said.

"No," she said, her voice nearly a whisper, "do you want ...?"

"Yeah, sure," he pushed the hotel register out at her. "How many more days, y'think?"

She wrote her name and room number on the register and paused, wanting to say, and yet ... how could she know? How would most denizens of Junon answer such a question? I'm getting out of here as soon as I have enough money. That was her plan. But saying so would have her paying more than the usual weekly room rate. She looked up to find the desk man watching her with the same interest one would have in a dog scratching fleas. Which was the reason she liked him more than the others. He had no desire for her.

"Well, I think until the end of the month," was her calculated answer. For all she knew, it might have been the truth. She didn't want it to be true, but ... She opened her purse, "So, then, what do I owe?"

"Ah," he did some quick math in his head, "room number ... I'll just charge ya two hundred for now."

She pulled out two 100-gil notes. Any of the others would've asked for sexual favors, half joking, half not. The man took her money and gave her a quick receipt.

"Thank ya," he said, bored, before looking at the clock on the wall and ringing up the cash register.

She walked out of the hotel and into the summer night, a tallish girl dressed all in black – short skirt, short leather jacket and thigh-high boots. Her silver hair brushed along her shoulders, shining in the dim streetlight as she walked slowly uphill. Today was Saturday, a good day for a girl to do business in Junon, and the night was young.

The night also smelled like garbage and truck exhaust, which is why no one who lived in Junon had any desire to stay. I'm here on business, the men usually said. Stationed here – the soldiers. Most were passing through on their way to somewhere else. That was fine with her, as long as they had money. She was passing through, too, but on to where ... that she didn't know.

Somewhere better was her only answer, especially after noticing the town police up ahead on the next block, in their car, watching over the Saturday night crowds, people orderly now but soon to be drunk. She stopped and watched a gang of soldiers, loud and half drunk already, leave one bar and get into a taxi. The cops turned their heads toward the sudden noise, their traffic light red, and saw her walking slowly up the hill to the business district, all long legs and red lipstick. And she saw that they saw. She ducked quickly down the next alley, but it was probably too late. They would be around later to collect their part of her night's earnings.

The alley was a block and a half from her hotel but she had never been down this way before. She didn't like alleys. She had once been caught in an alley and vowed never to ... She walked along quietly, cautiously, taking in every doorway and window. It seemed deserted, clean even. A dumpster sat at the end, top down, empty and neat. But between here and there was a sign – a blue martini glass in dim neon with a green olive.

Bar.

Whatever. Most of the time she hated bars. This one, however – maybe it had a door up on street level. She could have one drink and leave unobtrusively. Avoid the cops tonight. Keep her money tonight. Maybe.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe I'll live. Maybe I'll leave here. Maybe they'll leave me alone. Maybe they won't ... do that ...

The bar didn't have a name above or around the door. She put a leather-gloved hand on its old-fashioned brass handle and pushed in.

Blue.

Blue and silver, dim lights glowing, and small. But it was a bar. Across from the door the bartender stopped putting glasses away long enough to say, "Evening." Behind him three glass shelves were filled with more bottles than what was probably de rigeur for an establishment with only ten or so barstools and a couple of tables by the door. She wondered for a moment if it was a private place.

"What can I get ya?" The bartender said.

She wanted another exit, but looking around she could see none. At the other end of the bar were only two patrons – one large man standing and one slim man sitting on a barstool. They were both wearing suits. Now she suspected that this really might be a private place, and yet – the bartender had asked her ... and she should wait 10 minutes or so before sneaking back out on the street. The cops would be across town by then.

"Shot of sylkis," she said quietly and put a 20-gil note on the counter.

"Hey!"

She hadn't noticed that the two bar patrons had turned their attention to her. She didn't react in kind but instead waited patiently for the bartender to pour her shot.

"Hey!" From the corner of her eye she could see it was the man sitting on the barstool. "How much?" He said, which was immediately met by groaning.

She cringed and tapped the counter for her shot, making a concerted effort not to look in his direction.

"Reno ...," the bartender warned.

"No, I'm just saying – how much?"

She downed her shot quickly as he slid her change across the bar. "Thank you," she whispered and turned to leave. She would go back down the alley the way she came and take her chances on the hill instead of ...

"Wait a minute – don't go!" The thin man hopped off of his barstool and grabbed her by the purse before she could get to the door.

Both men called out, "Reno!!"

Now she was forced to look at him, "Stop!" She jerked her purse from his grasp, tearing its leather strap, to her dismay.

"Oh," was all he said. A shock of unruly red hair caught her attention and wouldn't let go, red as flames erupting from a volcano. He was definitely a redhead, and yet his pale face was smooth without freckles.

His big friend came up from right field, "I'm sorry, he didn't mean nothin by it, Miss. He just wants to buy you a drink. Pretty girls just ..."

The redhead looked her over, a sly smile on his face.

"Rude is trying to say," the bartender put up another shot for her, "that his friend there has the manners of a dog in heat."

His eyes moved down her legs, back up to her waist and then down again.

"Can I put my clothes back on?" She whispered, "I'm getting cold here."

"No, you can't," was his honest answer.

She managed to work her way back over to the bar where she downed the shot the bartender poured for her. She noticed that he was keeping the bottle out.

"Thank you," she said quickly, "I have to go."

The redhead stopped her, "Hey, wait a minute – I broke your purse!"

She tried to slip past him, "I'll bill you."

"Oh, come on," he said, blocking her with his slim body, "I didn't mean it. Well, I did mean that one part, but I didn't mean to ..."

She renewed her struggle but it wasn't working. And it was something to be concerned about. It could come down to three against one. She didn't know if she could manage it if they all piled her at once. Sure, the other two didn't seem menacing at the moment, but there was always a chance things could turn bad fast. Which was why she hated alleys.

The big one piped up again, "Just have a couple drinks with him. Then I"ll hold him down while you run for it." He thought that was funny and laughed. His redheaded friend shot him a dirty look over his shoulder.

"Reno's not a bad guy," the bartender said, filling up her shot glass, "he's just horny."

Like every man was who came her way. It was a living; paid the bills.

"All right," she said and downed another shot. She slammed down her glass and the bartender poured again. It was good sylkis and warmed her innards. She hadn't eaten all day and so it was welcome in her belly, where it lit a nice fire. The next shot she worked at slowly, savoring its thick, smooth taste.

The one they had called Reno inched closer to her, "Don't see a lot of girls around here pretty as you. You have real pretty eyes. M'name's Reno."

Without warning he grabbed her gloved hand and kissed it. Unfortunately it was the hand that had been holding half a shot of sylkis. The glass tipped sideways and the liquid spilled out unceremoniously, hitting the floor with a splat. Reno, watching her face and blushing, didn't seem to notice. The bartender sighed and went about pouring another.

"Here," he became suddenly busy checking his pockets, "let me give you my card." He produced a crisp, pale gray business card that was fancier than she would've expected. It had a faux linen look to it with his name and a phone number in black letters.

"Thanks," she said and put it into her broken purse. She downed half of the shot the bartender had just poured for her, "and thanks for the drinks."

He inched closer, "Don't go so soon. Just hang out for a little bit. Hey – do you charge?"

Not again. The other two groaned in agony. Of course she couldn't tell him the truth – not here. She'd been arrested before in a bar and the whole ordeal had given her way more grief than what was normal. It was how the Junon police had become familiar with her.

She made another attempt for the door, "Really, there's somewhere I need to be ..."

Reno hung on to her arms. "Well, I just wanna know," he said to the other two.

"She's not a whore, Reno," the bartender said dispassionately, putting glasses in a small dishwasher.

To that she said nothing.

"Oh, okay," Reno said. "Can we get two more here? And ...?" He looked over his shoulder at his friend, the big guy at the end of the bar. He held up an empty drink glass.

Turning his attention back to her, he said, "You're so pretty. Do you wanna go out to dinner some time, or go to a movie or something? Like dinner and a movie, or ...?"

She knew what that meant and smiled at him, "Or. Or – I know what you're thinking, you pig."

Being called a pig didn't seem to bother him. He put his hand on her slim waist, "Well, do you wanna give me your number?"

She downed the last of the sylkis, "I have your card. I'll call you."

"Oh, noooooo!" He let go of her and bent over like she had punched him in the gut, "Nooo, don't say that!"

"Don't say I'll call you?" She grabbed her purse from the bar and prepared to exit stage left.

At the end of the bar his friend laughed, his voice deep.

"No! I know you're never gonna call me, c'mon ...," he reached out to take her hand but she side-stepped him. "C'mon."

"You're just going to have to trust that I will call you." She made a break for the door. He scrambled behind her and lunged at just the right moment to hook his arm around her waist.

"Gotcha!"

She went limp, momentarily defeated. But she had more tricks up her sleeve. She'd defeated hornier and tougher men. Or, at least, she'd defeated the broke ones.

He surprised her by taking her in his arms, "I don't even know your name. I promise if you give me your phone number, I'll let you go."

"Oh, I ...," was all she managed to say.

He took her face in his hands, gently brushing her silky hair back from her delicate jawline. In their struggle a shiny strand came between her lips. He brushed that away, too, getting ever closer to her. He smelled like a wild boy, of fresh air and tall grass, which was strange to find in Junon. The paradox of him and his hard body pressing into hers caught her by surprise. Her guard was down.

He kissed her throat, brushing his lips against the pulse of her warmth.

"Let's not be fooling around in here, Reno!" The bartender yelled, glasses clinking together.

The redhead threatened to kiss downward. She struggled against him and found him oddly strong. She was pinned. He laughed softly, and when she looked down at him he pressed his mouth on hers and tasted her, caressing her lips with his own. She knew what was coming and renewed her struggle. He forced his tongue into her mouth as he forced his leg between hers, hiking her skirt up her thighs.

"Reno!!" The two warned again. This time the big one came up behind his little friend and enveloped him in a bear hug. She broke free, her next thought being whether she had her purse or not.

"Hurry," the big one laughed. "I'll hold him and you run!"

Yes, she had her purse.

"Ah, hey," she opened the door, finally free, "thanks for the drinks, and ..."

"Don't go!" Reno tried to struggle away from Rude's hold, to no avail, "Just tell me your name and number."

"Run!" The big one said to her.

She never was one for long goodbyes. She ran, not bothering to close the old-fashioned door behind her. She ran back down the alley, laughing and pulling her skirt down at the same time. She was surprised to hear herself laugh. It was all too funny. Bizarre and funny and kind of sweet. Something different than the same old Saturday night walk.

Sweet as a shot of sylkis.

She felt like she hadn't felt in a long time. Thinking about it and heading back to her hotel, she didn't notice the car. It had been sitting in the dark all this time, on the other side of the dumpster, waiting. She ran and it came up behind her quietly, its lights off. She didn't notice at all until it was too late. At the end of the alley the car careened past her, knocking her into the side of an empty warehouse building. The car turned quickly and stopped, effectively blocking the alley. No one was coming in and she wasn't going out.

She caught herself. Maybe she screamed, she didn't know. Ready to fight, she steadied herself and backed up against the wall, breathing hard.

It was the Junon police.

Oh, shit, she thought to herself. Her first instinct was to run back the way she came. If she did that, they would have the whole alley to chase her down. They'd throw her in for sure then, and it would probably end up pretty much the way it did last time – with her giving her services away for free.

Both of the policemen were laughing. The driver said, "I KNEW that was you! Said to Tracy here, I ain't seen that little bitch in a while."

To her dismay, she'd dropped her purse and her things and some of her money were strewn on the ground between her and the cop car.

She closed her eyes and heard the driver say, "I know you been suckin' dick, little girl, so – whatcha got for me?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The voice came out of right field.

It was a familiar voice.

The fiery redhead came out of the shadows, his big friend behind him, "Are you okay?" He said to her.

She nodded yes. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute, afraid that she was going to be raped, like last time. She caught her breath and brushed off her skirt and jacket.

The cop looked from her to the redhead, "Hey, Reno – this your girl?"

He went over to her, pale and shimmering in the dark, "Yup. Yeah, she is."

"Oh, sorry about that – I didn't know. Ah ... catch ya later," was the only thing he could think of to say. He started to leave when Reno tapped the car with a metal rod she hadn't seen in the bar,

"Hey, hey, hey! What's this here?!" He pointed around on the ground with the rod at all of the things that had fallen out of her purse.

"Oh, ah ...," the cop started to leave anyway.

"Hey!" Reno tapped the cop car with his metal rod, "Get out here and pick up the lady's things! Come on!"

The cop car squealed out of the alleyway, "Next time, Reno!"

She didn't really feel very much like laughing anymore but she did anyway, just a little. Reno turned his attention to her as Rude set about picking up her things,

"Are you sure you're okay? Did he ... um ... do anything to you?" His concern, she suspected, was merely an excuse to get close to her again.

"No, really, I'm okay," she said, making sure her skirt was down all the way.

"Well, I told you not to leave, didn't I?" He smiled at her in the semi-dark and put his arm around her waist.

"Yeah, and I said I had somewhere I had to be ..."

"Yeah," he said quietly. He kissed her and this time she let him. She even kissed him back a little, teasing his tongue. He put his hand on her chest, "Your heart's beating a million times a minute."

And then he knew. She waited. He kissed her again, gently caressing her lips with his.

At length, the big one said, "Am I gonna stand here holding her purse all night or am I gonna go play some cards?"

Reno broke away from her and laughed. He held out his hand for her purse and took it.

"I ain't stickin around for this," he smiled at the two, his eyes hidden by his shades, "Goin up to catch a cab. See you later." The big man straightened his tie and jogged off into the night, up the hill, the direction she had been going what seemed like so long ago.

Reno turned his attention back to her, "What do you wanna do? Go out somewhere? Go to my place?"

It was a warm summer evening, early still. Yes, Junon was a shitty place to live, but it still had its good times. There were lots of places to go to catch happy hour, get something to eat, see a live show, or check into a hotel room and make love. One could even go to the amusement park or go for a late night swim.

"Um," she had to say it, "you know I'm not really a girl, right?"

He had touched her chest. She didn't have any breasts. At all.

In the dim streetlight she saw him smile, "Well, duh! You look damn fine, but you ain't a girl. That's pretty obvious." He gently tickled her adam's apple with one finger.

And then he thought of something, "Hey – you never did tell me your name!"

It took her a beat or two, but she decided to tell him the truth, "Yazoo."

After a while, when they finally stopped kissing, he took her hand, "Let's get something to eat. I know a good place that's open all night."

That was funny. That's what she used to say about herself.

--

A/N: I got the idea for this story when I started to make a three-dimensional character for Yazoo and thought that because he's so pretty, before the story of FF7AC starts he would've worked as a ho somewhere, undoubtedly as a "girl." That's why I refer to him as Her in this story. Yazoo working as a girl and thinking of himself as a girl would stop when he meets Kadaj and Loz, and then a whole new story would start. Thank you, reviewers!