Hey, guys, here's chapter 2. I've put just a bit of the next chapter towards the end, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Just to let you know, the last bit is an alternate story point. In this case, it's a flashback (sort of). I'm also trying to make Rude a more shy guy, and his former self (in the other storyline) will be completely different. You'll see.

Chapter 2: Seventh Heaven

"I've already called the boss, told him what happened, yo. So, you comin' up?" Reno asked as he stepped out of the car. "I'm probably going to play online or something. Maybe call up Elena, see if she's not too busy…"

"Sorry," Rude said indifferently. "I've got somewhere to go."

Reno raised an eyebrow with slight suspicion. "Since when did you have a life? What's her name?"

The bald man almost scowled at Reno's assumption, even though it was correct.

"Won't tell me, huh?" Reno asked. "Fine. I'll find out eventually, you know that."

Without replying to him, Rude drove off, leaving him at the bottom floor of their apartment building. What would he say to her, if anything? He gripped the wheel tight and bit his lip, for it was not often that he would be somewhere without his loud, whiny redheaded partner next to him. Rude often watched how people reacted and socialized whenever he could. He was never quite the social butterfly, nor did he ever enjoy speaking to others. Speaking to others, that is. Rude didn't mind hearing people talk, so long as they never blabbered too much. Reno was the only exception to this rule, since his mouth was like a motor, never stopping to take a breath.

The trip to Seventh Heaven seemed quiet. With some boredom, he turned on the radio for any current news.

"Welcome back," the radio buzzed. "Right about now, the traffic is looking rather fine, and it should clear up straight until rush hour. The time is 11:42. Recent news, a murder on the west side today. There seems to be no evidence left behind for the murder of a recently-identified Jackson Kent, who was a known gangster in his neighborhood. He had been shot in his home today at approximately 8:00 AM. Enforcement says no evidence was left behind."

Rude's ear caught the mention of the murder, which struck him odd. There were quite a few murders recently, and none of them seemed logical for a petty crime. Not only that, but several families ruled Edge's territories, which could be a reason for the murders. It was people like Jacobson that leeched the world now. The upcoming light turned red and he stopped his car.

Outside, pedestrians walked—to work, to the park, or home. Not everyone could afford a vehicle, though the growing rate of vehicles nearly doubled within the last year alone. The city was looking better though, with more street lights set up, better home construction, and even more plants and landscaping set up along the roads and plazas. It didn't look as industrial as it once did.

Something caught his eye, however. Two law enforcement officers were immobilizing a man who had just mugged a woman. He watched as they beat him down with their impact clubs and wrapped cuffs around his wrists.

It reminded him a lot of a time before he came to know the Turks.

"This isn't some lousy, half-assed job, neither."

The voice echoed in his mind for just another moment. Rude ran a tongue along the inside of his cheek in bitterness to the memory of such a person with that voice.

Just too good at your own job. He thought to himself, referring to the voice that echoed in his mind.

Rude shook his head and sighed.


The bar was reasonably quiet, due to the low amount of customers today.

Well, it is Monday. She thought.

Tifa found that she was either one of two things: busy or alone. Cloud was often gone much and Denzel and Marlene were always busy with school. When no one was here, she did not have much to do.

No one was here.

After wiping the bar with a damp towel, she walked towards the room in the back, where it was sort of a living quarters for her break time. A couch was on the side of the room and a television rested on the opposite end. It wasn't like her apartment, but it was good nonetheless. "Acceptable" would be the right word. No. "Convenient" was more like it, since it was quite cozy. Ignoring her thinking, Tifa rested on the couch and shut her eyes.

Ugh, listen to me. I'm comparing my apartment to…this. I must be really bored.

Strife Delivery Service was moderately successful, and Cloud was usually gone all day—sometimes several days a week. Often, she would miss his presence around the bar. She assumed their friends were busy, too, since they rarely called about anything. Truly, life had been lackluster ever since Geostigma had been cured about half a year ago.

Maybe I should go to college…get a degree.

A sound of entry caused her eyes to open. A customer! Tifa enthusiastically stood up and walked back out to the bar area.

"Hello, welcome," she said with a wide grin. And before her stood…Rude. "Oh hey, Rude."

The tall, bald, and genuinely handsome man took a seat in the stool at the end of the bar, where he usually sits.

Well, it could be worse. She thought, recalling that Rude wasn't much of a talker. He did, however, visit the bar every few weeks.

"A beer, please," he said.

He may have been quiet, but he was polite. She admired that in him. Somehow, she was so wrapped up in having a customer that she didn't even notice Reno's absence until a good half-minute. It was odd to see the two extricated, especially in places like these. Tifa poured him a cold one, and handed it to him.

"Here you are. Edge's finest," she grinned with pride to her former enemy.

"Thank you."

With curiosity, she then asked, "So…Reno isn't with you?"

"No," he answered. It was all he said, and he didn't say anything more than that.

The next few moments were spent in awkward silence, like the kinds Tifa used to experience in school when the class would be immediately quiet. This, however, felt even stranger since she had nothing more to do than to stand there. Putting up a toleration to the silence was something she could try, but somehow she knew it was a futile effort.

Rude was also a bit sour with himself, too. He never liked to talk much, but the room was completely silent, and he knew he would have to say something soon, unless she brought up something first. Why did he come here, anyway? He could have just as easily gone to another bar, but he chose this one.

"Uh, so…anything interesting happening lately?" she said nervously, breaking the silence.

He shook his head. "Not much."

You idiot. Rude thought to himself. Come on, you've got to elaborate.

"Oh," she acknowledged. The fact that his sunglasses were still on somehow weakened their conversation, but it added a sense of mystery that made him magnetic. Her curiosity is being exercised, and she knew it.

"Yeah," he added, mustering up the courage to accelerate the conversation. "It's just been a lot of day-in-and-day-out work. Nothing interesting."

She nodded and was happy that he managed to say something longer than five words. "Sounds pretty boring, huh? Nothing happens much around here, too. Everyone is busy these days…"

"I understand," he replied, surprised that she was actually talking to him. It was alien to him, but he was rather comfortable with her presence. "Oh, and since you're wondering, Reno is back at the apartment. He's probably taking Elena out later."

"Oh really?" she then asked, seeing that he was talking somewhat normally. Tifa put up a funny face. "Usually he's with you…"

Rude slightly shrugged. "Yes. I don't think he has many friends."

The bluntness of his voice caused her to giggle a little bit, because it almost sounded like a friendly joke. Rude's face remained the same, though, and she didn't know whether he was indifferent or confused.

"Do you have any friends?" she then asked, putting him on the spot.

He thought about what to say, and wanted to aim for something snappy, but he refused to because it just wasn't the norm for him. "If I had any, then I wouldn't be able to contact them. They would be busy, too."

She walked around the bar, toward his side, and sat on one of the stools next to him. Rude felt slightly uncomfortable yet relaxed at the same time, two contradictory feelings that he felt simultaneously. He sipped some more of his beer.

"So what are you here for?" Tifa asked him, resting her chin on her hand that had already propped itself up on the bar counter.

"Just the beer," he answered straightforwardly, lying. "You seem to lack customers today."

Flashing a sweet smile, she shook her head lightly. "Nope. I've got one."

With that, she could have sworn she saw a smirk form at the tip of his lips, perhaps a twitch. Did he just smile? She guessed so, because Rude somewhat turned just slightly away for her to notice, as if he was hiding something. What she also noticed was that it never looked like he made eye contact with her, and knowing that she had him sucked into this conversation, she would take advantage of it.

"So, what color are your eyes?" Tifa then asked.

Rude was getting a bit irritated by the questions. "They're brown. You can't see them?"

"No, you've got sunglasses on," she said, almost bursting out in laughter.

He mentally slapped himself for saying something idiotic like that. Of course his sunglasses blocked his eye color.

"Oh, right," he muttered half-weakly.

A smile from her kept him from being hard on himself.

The shyness that somewhat overcame him after that caused him to be more inward. It was a subtle body language that Tifa managed to catch, and Rude knew it. This was ridiculous to him, because usually he could hold his own in a conversation. After a quick moment, Rude straightened his mind out, and sat a bit straighter like he usually did.

"Can I see your sunglasses?" she asked him, still trying to look right into his eyes.

A troubling uncertainty that had risen within him told him not too, but he reluctantly agreed. The social barrier of his life was this pair of sunglasses; it was something he could hide in, making human contact easier. Her thin, gentle fingers felt the sleekness of the glasses, and she slowly pulled them off, uncovering his eyes.

"You've got beautiful eyes," she complimented with a sweet grin.

"Thanks."

Easily, Rude managed to keep eye contact with her. She was glad that she had been wrong about his eye contact ability. With a deep, subtle, dim light brown that his eyes emitted, she found them to be very attractive. There was an untold mystery about his eyes, almost as if you stared into them long enough, a myriad of stories, emotions, thoughts, and memories would present themselves to you. Admittedly, she could get lost in his eyes. The cryptic "something" would be more than enough for attraction. Tifa found herself gazing into them long enough to notice.

"It's not polite to stare," he then said, breaking her gaze. She could have sworn that he said it playfully, though his voice remained monotonic.

Faintly blushing, Tifa lifted the glasses to her face and put them on. Rude raised an eyebrow, effectively showing a feeling at last.

"So how do I look?" she asked, striking a pose and pursing her lips together.

Her undeniable beauty almost suppressed a response.

"Not as good as I do," he said almost automatically.

Oops.

Rude almost put a palm to his face to indicate his shock to that idiotic reply. More often than not, he'd say something like that to Reno or Elena when they bugged him excessively. What made it even more impacted was that she showed a face of disbelief.

Much to his surprise, however, she burst out in little giggles. Tifa was far more surprised, however, because she had never seen Rude like this before. He appeared more comfortable now, and even revealed a half smirk.

"You should take these off more," she said, removing the glasses and handing them back to him.

Rude accepted the glasses, but instead of putting them on, he folded them and placed them inside his jacket, where two more spares were located.

"I'll leave them off for you." He wish he'd said, but knew it would have sounded awkward and corny.

He took another sip from his beer, trying to take smaller sips so he'd be able to spend more time here without actually saying so.

"So Reno and Elena are dating, huh?" she said, noticing the awkwardness of picturing Reno with only one woman. "I don't think a wild animal like Reno would ever date."

"Elena's quite the animal herself," Rude shrugged. "The equation works."

Tifa smiled. "Apparently it does."

"How about you and Strife?" he asked her. "You two have each other. How's that?"

The question caused her to bite her lip. Sure, she and Cloud had a more-than-friendly relationship, but honestly she did not know if their relationship went anywhere other than an occasional affectionate exchange. The problem was that he was always gone, and he wouldn't talk about much. Clearly, he still had an unsatisfied soul and was searching for something, and she would have to decide either to help him or move on like everyone else.

"He's gone often," she cautiously confessed. "Most of the time it's just me and the customers that pass through, and occasionally the kids."

"It's pretty lonely, huh?"

"Yes," she said, then noticed that he had finished up his drink. "Are you finished with your beer?"

Rude finally realized that he had gulped down the whole thing. "Yes, I think I am."

"I wouldn't want to keep you waiting from…whatever it is you have to do," she had said while standing up and heading to the other end of the counter, subconsciously attempting to have him stay.

"Actually, I'm done for the day," he professed. The next thing he tried to say troubled him, but he managed to congregate enough will to say it. "Do you mind if I stay? You look like you need the company."

His hasty delivery of the last bit made the offer seem unorthodox for him, but Tifa knew that this old adversary was just being friendly. She couldn't even remember the last time she hated Shinra so much, which only proved that life was moving forward. It was something she assumed Cloud had trouble understanding.

"That's sweet of you," she said. "Thanks."

"It's nothing," he responded. "I don't have anywhere else to be."

Tifa took his glass and rinsed it, wiping it clean and placing it with the other glasses. Rude watched as she worked, her beautiful, athletic figure moving so gracefully. A feeling of pride rose within him. He had successfully made a great conversation with Tifa, and he was now staying for an extended time. While her back was turned to him, he granted himself a smile.

"So are you still working as a Turk?" she asked him after she finished cleaning up.

"No, not really," he replied. "But we're still doing…work. It's just not as dangerous as it used to be."

She followed up with another question. "Were you always a Turk?"

Rude remembered the voice that rang in his head on the drive over here.

"This isn't some lousy, half-assed job, neither."

"No. I used to work as something else."

"What?"

He grinded his teeth with some difficulty in answering her question. "You really want to know?"

"Please?" she asked cutely.

He sighed. It would be difficult to tell this story efficiently, for it was not a story; it was a person. That hard, imposing tone of voice that rang in Rude's ears constantly reminded him of what he used to do.

"It was a very long time ago," he stated. "I don't remember how long. I had applied for a position for a now-inactive Shinra department. It was called VICE."

"VICE? What does that mean?"

"VICE stood for Versatile Investigations and Civil Enforcement," he explained. "It was a different branch of the standard Shinra security department, and involved several crime activities in various cities. I was stationed in Midgar. I don't think you had joined AVALANCHE yet."

She kept her eyes drawn into his. "So you were a cop?"

"Sort of," he said with a slight stammer. "It was strictly undercover work."

With her curiosity drawn to him, he was given time to elaborate and explain what he used to do, and who he used to be.


"Victor," the motherly voice said. "Are you ready?"

The young man walked down the stairs and greeted the much older woman. His short, buzzcut hair and his innocent eyes were notable, but he knew he would have to be much tougher for today. His aunt Gracie was proud of him, and helped him straighten his jacket.

"Where is your uniform, dear?" she asked.

Victor Rude shook his head with a prideful smile. "Gracie, this is the investigations department. I won't have to wear one, except for formal occasions."

The intelligent, poised voice of the 21 year old was actually hiding the absolute anxiety that submerged him. He had never felt quite like this ever since sports tryouts back in high school.

"I'll probably be home late today, so you don't have to save a plate for me," Rude informed her. He had already begun to leave the house, dressed in his black zip-up hoodie and straight-legged jeans. The morning was cold.

"Come home safe, sweetheart," she then said, giving him a hug.

Rude returned her embrace and gave her a peck on the cheek. "I'll be fine. Don't worry."

At that moment, his cell phone began to ring. He reached for his phone—clipped to his belt—and checked who was calling. He felt his chest cave in. Summoning the courage to answer, he put the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"This Officer Victor Rude?" a voice spoke on the other end of the call.

He gulped. "Yes, speaking."

"Okay, son, I want you to meet me at the Holland Diner in the Sector 6 slums in 30 minutes, can you do that?"

His voice was strangely accented, curved with a deep, imposing tone. Nonetheless, Rude answered back, "Yeah, I'll do that."

"You got a gun with you?"

"Just the standard issue."

"Alright, bring that with you."

"Sir," Rude said. "Aren't we gonna go to roll call?"

"We don't go to roll call. Security pigs go to roll call."

"Uh, okay."

He heard a click on the side of the phone as the other man hang up. Rude was confused with that demeanor, since there was no closure to the call. Ignoring that, he sighed and hoped that public transport wouldn't be too busy. He stepped out the door and met with Midgar's Sector 8.

Alright, so I hope you guys liked it. I also hope to get chapter 3 in soon, so…until next time, I guess. Review, please! If there's something odd about the way I'm writing it, I don't shun outside recommendations, so long as they're reasonable.