The patch of grass was less than a foot across, just a shy clump of green poking up next to an outcropping of rock.

"What's it even doing here?" Reno said, bending low to examine it so that the bright tail of his hair almost brushed the pale green leaves. "I didn't think anything'd be able to grow out here for the next, like, million years."

"Flowers grew," Rude pointed out, "back at the church."

"That's different." Reno pursed his lips, looking uncommonly thoughtful for a moment. "That was 'cause of, well, her." He squinted at the clump of grass. "It's almost a little creepy," he added, after a moment.

"I'm more concerned with how you spotted one clump of grass from more than a hundred yards away," Rude said.

Reno turned his head and tossed his partner a cocky grin. "Hey, the ladies like a man with skills."

"How does that even make--"

Reno's PHS shrilled abruptly, cutting Rude off. "Yeah-hey."

"Reno." Tseng, as expected. The man had timing. "Are you in the city yet?"

"Just outside it," Reno said, mouthing Tseng at Rude, as if Rude couldn't guess for himself. "Give us five minutes and we'll be at your door."

"Change in plans," said Tseng, and Reno could just picture him standing by a desk, eyes on the horizon his swanky new office windows revealed. "Swing by the Seventh Heaven first. I hear Cloud has something for you." The connection went dead. Tseng never was the type for heartfelt good-byes.

Reno rolled his eyes and slipped the PHS back into his pocket. "New plans," he said. "Looks like we're stopping by Tifa's place. You still got that bet going with Elena?"

"That Tifa will poison your drink one of these days? Of course."

Reno grinned, crooked, and snapped his goggles down over his eyes. "Any way I can get in on that?"

"You're a sick bastard, Reno."

Reno kicked his bike back into gear; the engine snarled like a Kalm Fang, and the exhaust pipes spit up a cloud of smoke and dust. "Let's get going. I could use a drink."

They took off in the direction of Edge, but not before Reno could cast a last, puzzled look back at the clump of grass. It waved them away, stalks rustling brightly in the wind.

Cloud was sitting outside on the sidewalk when they pulled up to the bar, a spot of pale color standing out from the perpetual grey of everything else in Edge.

"Hey," said Reno, smirking like he was about to tell a joke. "What's up, pal-o-mine?"

Cloud just gave him a look, not even strong enough to be called a glare. It was more like weak disgust, and Reno was pretty used to it by now. He got it all the time.

"Here," Cloud said, shoving a package at them. It was wrapped in plain brown paper circled with twine, and said only 'RENO' across the front in red-stamped letters.

Reno took the package, then shook it. Something rattled inside. "I'm touched, Cloud. How'd you know it was my birthday?"

Cloud actually rolled his eyes. "It's not from me. No return address, so I don't know who sent it. We found it on the doorstep two days ago and it was Tifa's idea to call ShinRa."

"Good of her," Rude murmured, low.

Cloud's expression didn't change. "You're lucky she got it first. Barrett wanted to hold it for ransom."

Reno looked over at Rude. "What do you think, partner?"

"Probably not a bomb," Rude said. "Would've gone off when you shook it."

"Why send it through Strife, though? My apartment ain't in the phone book, but there's still ways. Coulda sent it to ShinRa."

Rude shrugged. "Something they don't want the package inspectors to see?"

Reno turned back to Cloud, who only shook his head. "Don't ask me. I'm just the delivery boy."

A sigh. "Well, can't stand not knowing, so maybe we should open it." Reno nodded to Cloud. "If it's something good, I'll buy you a drink."

"And if it's something bad?"

"You can blow me to make up for it."

Cloud did glare, now, but instead of a witty retort he just said, "Is it really your birthday?"

Reno shrugged, artlessly casual. "Hell if I know. Very well could be." The bike roared back to life and then he was pulling away, speeding off down the narrow street.

Rude gave Cloud a little nod and then turned his bike to follow after.

Cloud went back inside. Tifa was rinsing out glasses back behind the bar. He watched her wrinkle her nose in disgust as she poured out a soup of old beer and cigarette butts.

"They took the package?" she said, as Cloud pulled up a stool.

Cloud nodded. "Reno said it was his birthday."

"Really?" Tifa pushed a wet rag in his direction and Cloud took it, obediently, and started wiping down the counter. "Was it?"

"I don't think he actually knows."

Tifa made another nose-wrinkling face. "That's... kind of sad."

"Yeah."

"Maybe I won't poison his drinks, after all."

They pulled over in an alleyway a few blocks from the sleek new ShinRa headquarters.

"We could just open it when we get there," Rude pointed out, reasonably.

"Nah," said Reno, already pulling at the twine. "I wanna know what it is they wanted me to see before anyone else did."

He flicked out a knife from up his sleeve and sliced at the twine with quick, neat motions. Rude frowned at him, eyes on the package.

"If I said I had a weird feeling about this--"

"Could just be a box full of porno," Reno said. He grinned distractedly as he pulled the paper back. "I hope it's a box full of porno. I dated a porn star once, you know. Maybe she remembered my birthday."

"You don't even remember your birthday."

"Yeah, well, doesn't mean I've never made one up before." Underneath the paper the box was just plain cardboard, closed with tape. Reno cut through that, too. "'Course, I've forgotten all the days I've said my birthday was on. Too hard to keep track. I never did get that chocobo I wanted any--" He broke off suddenly, expression going blank as he peered into the box.

"What?" Rude craned his neck, trying to see. "What is it?"

Reno reached into the box and pulled it out.

"Oh," said Rude. And then: "Fuck."

It was a hand. The skin was mottled grey and the joints were stiff. Bone peeked out, yellow-white, down where the join of the wrist had been. There was something scrawled on the palm when Reno turned it over, in faded black marker: SOON.

Reno had gone so white that his tattoos stood out like bright, bloody slashes on his cheeks. He shoved the hand back into the box and set it atop the nearest dumpster. He was blinking too fast.

"You okay, partner?" Rude said, concerned.

Reno looked up. He was still pale. "This is the worst birthday ever," he said.

The brand new ShinRa Building wasn't open to the public yet. The builders were still working on the elevators, and the masons hadn't quite finished the stylish new fountain out front. The reception area was still blank and bare-walled and un-carpeted, and their footsteps echoed loudly as they made their way back to the emergency stairs.

Compared to the old ShinRa building, this place looked like a goddamned lean-to, Reno thought. It was just an office building-- sleek, clean-lined, as modern as could be, but an office building nevertheless. It only had fourteen floors. And the security system was absolutely laughable.

"I still think we should have death rays," Reno was saying, as they climbed resolutely up to Level Twelve. "I bet Reeve's place has death rays."

"We can't have death rays," Rude said, with an air of strained patience. "Bad for PR."

"PR, shmee-are. When a bunch of terrorists bust through the front doors, you are gonna want those death rays, man."

Rude rolled his eyes behind the glasses. "Because the arsenal helped so much the first time."

"Four words: Not Enough Death Rays."

They made it to the level twelve landing and stood there for a minute, puffing air.

"You're outta shape, partner," Reno said, even though he himself was leaning on the handrail and wheezing.

"You're avoiding the issue," Rude said.

Reno's expression hardened. "I don't wanna tell Tseng. Keep it to yourself, okay?"

"If it's a threat to the company--"

"Then they'd have sent it to the company, yo. They sent it to me. Stamped my fucking name on it and everything." Reno chewed his lower lip for a second. "I don't need to drag the boss into it if it's just some ex trying to be cute."

"Severed hands are your idea of 'cute'? Really?"

"Still. For now, it's my problem. If it looks like somethin' else, I'll tell the boss myself."

Rude stared, hard.

"Promise!" Reno held up his hands in the I-give-in gesture. "You want me to pinky-swear or what?"

Rude made a snorting sound. "Fine. But if I think for even a isecond/i that you're trying to play hero--"

"As if," Reno said, and the cocky grin was back. "You an' me both, we're the villains in this picture."

Level Twelve was the floor for the Department of Administrative Research, which the elegant gold plaque next to the door advertised in large, bold capitals. Reno was faintly surprised no one had renamed the department-- sure, it was a cute euphemism, but was there anyone who didn't already know it spelled TURKS? Another sign just beneath the first killed some of the swanky ambience-- it read "THIS IS A WEAPONS-FREE ZONE" in big red-on-white letters. It was, of course, a complete and total lie. They just hid the weapons a little better now, these days.

The secretary's desk sat heavy against the wall as soon as you opened the door-- in full view of the back stairs and the front elevator. Security cameras perched in every corner, black and modern and not yet functioning.

There was carpeting here, soft golden brown, warm and inviting when you paired it with the cream-colored walls. It was scotch-guarded, of course, in case of blood. Across from the secretary station sat four wide chairs, spaced far apart, two on either side of the path to the elevator. They still had the factory-shipped plastic covers over them.

"I hate this room," Reno murmured as they passed the waiting area, making their way over to the wide double-doors at the other end. "Were they trying to make it look like a dentist's office?"

"Not as scary as a dentist's office," Rude said.

"Maybe that's the problem, then."

Reno kicked at one of the doors-- it was a little too low, and it scraped across the plush carpeting as it pushed open. "Yo, Boss. You miss us?"

Tseng's office was a little better than the reception area, if only because it wasn't trying to be cozy. The carpeting was the same brown color, but the track lighting was low and hid the corners in shadow. Tseng's desk was plain dark wood, heavy and stark-looking, void of clutter. There were two floor-to-ceiling windows on either side behind the desk; at the moment the shades were drawn, leaving the room dark and almost unsettling.

Reno liked it.

"I trust your errand went well?" Tseng said, without looking up. He wasn't exactly lounging at his desk-- his posture was as straight as ever-- but he had his chin in his hand and his eyes were almost half-mast, and that was downright indolent by Tseng-standards.

"Super," Reno said. "Cloud says hi."

"Does he?"

"No. Like he ever says hi to anyone."

Tseng made a noise, agreement or boredom perhaps. Maybe both. He shuffled the papers under his hand. "What did you find out in Kalm?"

"Nothing we didn't already know." Reno sprawled out in one of Tseng's leather chairs, hooking sideways to dangle his legs over the plush arm. "Reeve and his people are out there building wind turbines and solar panels and shit, and we're getting left in the dust." He picked at one of his fingernails. "Can't we just kill him or something?"

Tseng's mouth twisted up in what wasn't a smile. "Unfortunately, no. Bad for PR."

Reno sagged, kicking his feet. "Goddamn PR. I really hate that fucking word."

Tseng turned to Rude. "Anything to add?"

Rude looked thoughtful for a moment. "They really are beating us at the public opinion game," he said. "Their building projects are all way ahead of ours, and most of it's on public land."

"Meaning we can't even charge them for lease," Reno said, disgustedly.

"We're working on a few buy-outs," Tseng murmured, frowning down at his papers. "There's land to the south that the WRO have been eyeing, and the President has a mind to acquire it. We're reasonably sure that they can't top our offer at the moment, but--"

"All this corporate shit makes my head hurt," Reno moaned. "It was so much easier when we could just stab people in the back."

"This is backstabbing," said a voice from the door, and then Rufus was sauntering in like a white light in the darkness. "It's just a more subtle form, Reno."

Reno perked up as the President made his way over. "Hey, Boss. Lookin' good."

Rude sighed, resigned.

Rufus only smiled, but it was the kind of smile that promised retribution later. He passed Reno in a swish of fabric and made his way over to lean on Tseng's desk. "What's our status?"

"Still waiting," Tseng said, spine going even straighter than before. "Shall I tell our party to increase the offer, Sir?"

"Hold off for now," Rufus said, tossing hair back from his eyes with a shake of his head. "We don't want to look desperate."

"About the office--" Reno started.

"I don't want to hear any more about death rays," Rufus said, with a note of finality.

Reno sagged again.

"Sir," said Rude, all professionalism. "The situation in Kalm is just as you predicted. There wasn't much for us to do there."

Rufus nodded. "Reno? Anything to add?"

Reno yawned and stretched. The leather underneath him creaked warmly. "Cloud owes me a blowjob," he said.

No one looked even slightly surprised. "Why?" Rufus asked, tone idly curious.

"'S'my birthday," Reno said, almost defiantly.

"Wasn't it your birthday two months ago?" Tseng asked.

"And then again two weeks after that," Rufus added.

"I'm trying to cover all the bases. Wouldn't want to miss it by accident," Reno replied, matter-of-fact.

"Happy birthday," said Tseng, as he turned his attention back to his papers. "Now get out of my office before you ruin the upholstery."

Reno looked thoughtful and annoyed as they left the nouveau ShinRa building. The bikes stayed in the parking garage; they were hoofing it from here.

"Still thinking about the hand?" Rude said, sympathetic.

"What? No. I'm thinking about how I'm gonna get Cloud to actually suck my dick," Reno said, with a level of sincerity that had to be genuine. "But now that you mention it, I should probably think about the hand."

Rude fought the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. "Probably, yeah."

Reno frowned and shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked. "Whose hand d'you suppose it was? I'm sure I don't know nobody with missing hands."

"Could be anyone. It's not like they sent a pinky and a ransom note."

"It wasn't all rotted yet," Reno went on, as if he hadn't heard, "so it had to be pretty fresh. Didn't come offa no cemetary stiff they just dug up or whatever."

They were turning down a side street, making their way toward the center of town. Rude could see the blocked-off area of the square up ahead where the old monument had been. A crane perched near it, along with a couple of cement trucks, but there didn't seem to be a whole lot of actual iconstruction/i going on. That seemed to be the way construction projects always went, Rude mused.

"'Soon'," said Reno, disrupting his reverie. "What's 'soon'? Soon you'll be getting another hand? Soon we'll be coming to get you? Soon will be our extravaganza of low, low prices?"

"That would be one hell of an ad campaign," said Rude, not really listening.

Reno sighed. "I need caffeine and Wutai takeout, in that order. Let's go to Shen's."

Rude made a face. "All that MSG is bad for you."

"Right, because my arteries, those are what I worry about on a daily basis. Not the bullets or the monsters or the Sephiroth clones or anything."

Rude sighed. "Whatever. You buy." Reno opened his mouth. "Don't even give me any more shit about your birthday," Rude added, firmly.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," came the reply.