Disclaimer: Yeah, I know. Gone lazy with the disclaimer. XD Well, I don't own Final Fantasy VII or its characters. It belongs to Square Enix. I do own my original characters and plots, though.

Author's Note: Ergh! I'm sorry I couldn't get this in sooner, everyone. I lost the document where I previously kept the chapters for the story and I've had to retype Chapter 4. Plus, life gets in the way, as usual. Anyway, Chapter 4, I think you'll all like. I've found that the first part of this chapter in the church really goes with the song "Missing" by Evanescence…O.o Anyway, chapter 5 will be nice and action-packed… I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading.


Chapter 4: Underneath the Rotting Pizza

Aphrodite lay on the flowerbed of Sector 5's battered church. This decrepit structure always equaled peace and tranquility for her. With a soft sigh, the young woman rolled on her side, stroking the moist petals of a white carnation.

"You like it here, don't you, little flower?" murmured Aphrodite, a remorseful smile on her lips. The thick, disheveled curls of her light ash-brown hair spread round her head like a goddess, a spare tendril or two falling over her face.

Aphrodite had taken refuge in the church after walking out on her brother. She noticed how Ares hadn't bothered to seek her out. "He doesn't care," she whispered to herself, closing her gray-green eyes. A single tear trickled down her left cheek. She had been half-hoping that Ares would come to get her. But he didn't.

"Don't cry, my child."

The slum-girl jumped up, eyes darting about the church. She was alone. "What…? Who spoke?"

"When will you return to us, dear lady?" Spoke the otherworldly voice again.

Aphrodite chewed on her lower lip, and shuddered. "Who…?" She looked up, eyebrows rising. She placed a hand to her chest, where she felt the voice echoing in her heart. The voice came from within. Was this…?

The young woman stood up, shaking her head. She banished the thought from her mind, and glanced at the watch on her right wrist. "Crap! Seven! I better not be late…" As Aphrodite turned to leave the church, she blinked, and swiveled around again. "Come with me, little flower," she said, picking the white carnation. Delicately she fixed the pretty flower into her messy hair. There. Something to make her look a little less dirty.
Aphrodite's gray-green eyes searched the Sector 7 train station, and she chewed her lower lip. "Where is he?"

"Right here," said that familiar, smooth voice as a pair of arms wrapped themselves around Aphrodite's waist from behind.

"Augh!" cried the slum-girl in shock, jumping and instinctively kicking the redhead.

"Ow! Shit, 'Dite, you kick hard!" exclaimed Reno, doubling over in pain. "I was just jokin'. Nice way to say 'hello' by kicking me, huh?"

"Oops!" cried Aphrodite, her freckled cheeks reddening. "I'm sorry, Reno! I thought you were some sicko…"

Reno laughed out loud, flicking the girl's ear. "Dork. Nice flower."

"Thank you," said she, smiling shyly. "Got it from that church in Sector 5."

"Church? You religious?"

Aphrodite shook her head. "No," she replied, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Okay, let's go. Train's here."

As the two made to board the train, Reno cut in front of the slum-girl, and performed a stately bow. "After you, m'lady," said the Turk with a mock British accent—grinning all the while—and then bursting out laughing.

Aphrodite grinned, chortling at Reno. "Stop mocking me," she giggled as they boarded the train. Once they sat, she tugged on his long ponytail.

"Watch the hair!" protested Reno, jumping in his seat. His charming blue-green eyes shot her a dirty look worthy of a Turk, and Aphrodite giggled, flicking his ear.

"Your eyes are so dreamy," said the slum-girl with a mockingly dreamy sigh, pretending to swoon on Reno's shoulder.

She didn't know why, but Aphrodite felt so…euphoric now that Reno was here. Something about him…beckoned her. She didn't say it, but she felt something about Reno. He was a Turk, but strangely, she couldn't see him hurting her. It was her powerful intuition. Or maybe just delirium.

"As are yours, babe," smirked Reno. Playfully he ruffled her curls.

A slight dash of color rushed into Aphrodite's freckled cheeks, and she smiled shyly. She turned slightly to look out the window as the train climbed the tracks up the central support structure, on its way above the plate. Midgar really was very ugly beneath that "rotting pizza." Oh, how she desired to rise above ground, to live under a blue sky…to live in a home twenty times larger than her uncomfortable little cottage in the slums.

Why did Nibelheim have to burn?

Who had done it? And why?

"Aphrodite, you okay?" queried Reno, observing the slum-girl's face, which was contorted in both anger and grief.

She looked, blinking at the Turk. "I was just thinking…about life here. In Midgar. In the slums."

"What do you think about it?"

"I hate it," growled Aphrodite, watching the unexciting, depressing scenery all around her. "I hate it so badly. I've been caged here for five years, but it feels like a hundred. I've grown pale from lack of proper nourishment and sunshine."

"Like a dying flower," murmured Reno, his eyes searching her face.

Her gray-green eyes focused completely on the Turk now, and a hollow laugh escaped her mouth. "Nice simile, but I'm no flower. My brother, Ares, and I are oppressed just like most slum-dwellers, and we're struggling to survive. Ares is almost never home because of a job he is paid almost nothing for, and I was fired from my last one. They said I wasn't fit to sell materia. Said I was better at using materia. Even resorting to stealing for simple things like food," She closed her eyes, looking away from Reno. "I want out of the slums."

Reno listened to Aphrodite's passionate, but despairing account of her life in the slums. "You know, 'Dite, I understand how you feel."

The young woman opened her eyes, and looked up at him questioningly, tilting her head. "How so?" How could he understand? He was a Turk, and Turks had a lot of money. He was only saying that…

Gazing into her eyes, Reno smiled slightly, as if he truly did know the troubles Aphrodite faced. She found this odd of him, because he was acting serious… "Remember when I said I used to be a slum-boy?"

She nodded.

"I used to live the same way. I really do understand, Aphrodite."

Finally, someone besides the present slum-dwellers who understood! Suddenly a smile broke onto her face, and she nodded at Reno. "I'm glad you understand. I thought…"

"That you were all alone?" he finished the thought for her.

Aphrodite arched a dark eyebrow at Reno, and smirked. "Am I that predictable? Or do we have some kind of intuitive connection in which we can nearly read the other's mind?"

Reno flipped his bangs cockily, smirking as well. "I think the latter, babe."

"Don't call me 'babe!'" scolded the young woman, wrinkling her nose and playfully smacking the Turk on the head. "I will not tolerate common womanizing terms!"

"Care to speak English?" teased Reno.

This reminded Aphrodite of something… "Speaking of languages, what was that thing you said the other day? Oh-vwa, fee minyon?"

Reno stared at the slum-girl for a moment, and burst out laughing. "'Au revoir, fille mignonne' means 'Goodbye, pretty girl.'"

"Oh," said Aphrodite. "I see…" She raised her eyebrows. "Subtle!"
"Hey, barkeep! I'll have some beer," called Reno as he and Aphrodite sat in the counter stools of one of Midgar's best nightclubs, (above the plate that is) Golden Nirvana. Aphrodite knew that the Sector 7 slums had a bar of its own (Tifa's Seventh Heaven), but she appreciated that Reno decided to take her someplace not inthe slums. Besides, he had money. And plenty of it.

She adjusted the white carnation in her hair, smoothing the knee-length gray gown that did nothing for her figure. She didn't have anything pretty to wear (that also apparent by her worn, brown boots), since all of the clothes from her past were lost in Nibelheim's fire. Besides, they wouldn't fit her, anyway. And obviously, she couldn't afford any nice apparel. The stuff she got usually came from the clearance section in Wall Market's clothing store.

"And what will this lovely young lady like to drink?"

Aphrodite looked, staring blankly at the bartender. Did he just call her lovely? Was this man blind? She looked down at the small laminated menu on the counter, and glanced at Reno, who gazed at her expectantly. "O-Oh, I'll just have…um…water."

Both Reno and the bartender stared at her like she had grown an arm on her forehead. "What…?" said the young woman, her gaze switching from one man to the other. She arched an eyebrow.

"Just…water?" Reno inquired finally as the bartender filled a glass with iced water. He stared, dumbfounded.

"Um…I don't drink that much," she explained, scratching her ear.

"You? Don't drink? I thought all slum-people drank," commented the Turk, his eyes widening. "I sure did. They usually drink more than folks up here since they ain't got much in their lives, so it's weird that you don't…"

"It's only sometimes…" said Aphrodite, and she thanked the bartender after he served her water. She sipped it silently for a moment, observing the many people partying away on the dance floor. Odd. She had never seen this before.

The redhead took notice of the young woman's gawking and grinned slyly. "You wanna dance?"

Aphrodite blinked, and gave Reno a look that was blank for only a moment. "Oh, no. Those people dance…weird." An eyebrow rose. "I can only ballroom dance, but that's it…" And then she mentally slapped herself. Wonderful! Now she awoke more memories of Nibelheim! She had learned to ballroom dance as a child in the Travere mansion—her home in the town—and she hadn't danced in those grand, elegant ways in years…

"Ballroom dance? Didn't expect that from you," Reno chugged down his beer, calling for another one immediately.

This caught the slum-girl's attention, and now she stared at the Turk with wide eyes, digressing from the previous subject. "You're…fast."

He winked at Aphrodite as the bartender handed him another beer. He popped off the top, and was about to guzzle this one down too when he noticed the young woman's amazed staring. "Want some? I know you don't drink, but you look particularly invited," he offered, holding the bottle out to her.

She shook her head, waving her hands away. "Oh, no, no. It's just that you drank the first one so fast. You like that stuff, don't you? I can tell."

Reno grinned, nodding his head of wild, long red hair. "No better way to drown your sorrows…"

Aphrodite blinked at the Turk's response while sipping her water, and almost sprayed the liquid at him as she stifled a giggle. She set the glass on the counter. "Sorrows. You want to drown me?"

He stared.

A crimson eyebrow went up in bewilderment, as if he did not understand. But then his eyes widened, and he slapped his forehead. "Oh! That's your last name," he grinned. "Uh-uh, lovely. I wouldn't ever drown you."

They burst out laughing, and Aphrodite had to hold on to Reno for support lest she topple from her stool to the shiny tiled floor. Once the insane giggles subsided, she took a deep breath and straightened. "Reno! Don't call me 'lovely'!" She chided almost playfully, and took another sip of her water. "Don't lie. I'm not lovely."

Reno stared at Aphrodite in disbelief. "But you are! Not only lovely, but also beautiful on the inside as much as out. I know it. Ain't no lie." He chugged down the rest of his second beer and called for a third one before speaking to her again. "C'mon, Aphrodite," he began, facing her in his stool, characteristically flipping his bangs. "I think you're prettier than any woman in here, and I don't give a hell if no one thinks the same. You know it's true."

Aphrodite looked away on purpose, drinking the rest of her water. "Sure you haven't had too many beers?" she joked dryly, setting her empty glass on the counter. She faced Reno, and looked him in the eyes. "C'mon yourself, Reno. You're pretty good-looking yourself, but look at me. I'm a slum-rat, for Nibelheim's sake. You're a Turk. I'm dirty. You're…probably clean. Oh, you know what I mean…"

Reno finished off his third beer, but did not ask for another. "Aphrodite, you don't have to be rich or dress like that Scarlet from ShinRa to be beautiful. You're natural. You don't need to wear fancy clothes or wear makeup. Hell, you don't even have to brush your hair… Nibelheim?" He added that detached question, seemingly realizing her loose use of the town's name.

Her eyes widened. "Nothing."

"No, tell me," he urged, leaning a smidgen closer. Aphrodite wrinkled her nose at the stench of the Turk's breath: a blend of smoke and alcohol. An unpleasant smell. Had he forgotten to use mouthwash? That was something she'd have to teach him to remember… but wait, did she have mouthwash? No…she doubted a slum-dweller's breath would smell any better—of course, she didn't smoke or drink…

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Well, alright then…" said Reno, but he did not move back. "Anyway, see, everyone in this nightclub is even a little rich, but no one's insulted you because of your clothes or anything."

"That's 'cause they don't see me," Aphrodite said matter-of-factly, giving Reno a knowing look. She heard snooty, feminine voices a distance behind her, and glanced over her shoulder at the speakers.

"Ew, Karla, look at that…rat." Said one of the two women who were chatting.

"What an ugly dress. And those boots! And her hair…! Wow, Jackie, I've never seen a more hideous girl. What the hell's she doing here, anyway? Looks like a slum-dweller." Said the other woman, scowling at the slum-girl

Aphrodite and Reno watched from afar as the two snobbish women laughed out loud in their annoying, high-pitched voices as they walked away, the click of stiletto-heels echoing in the young woman's ears. She looked away and lowered her eyes, turning away from the redhead. She folded her hands in her lap, biting her lower lip. Reno had spoken too soon.

The Turk scowled at the haughty women who left, and he leaned ever closer to the slum-girl, brushing his fingertips against her arm. "Ignore those bitches, Aphrodite. They're just tryin' to piss you off. Don't let 'em get to you. You're strong, I know it. Can't let that kind of people mess around. I say they're way below your level."

Aphrodite sighed, and looked up at Reno. He gray-green eyes flickered with the slightest hint of grateful sorrow. "Thanks, Reno. But…" she trailed off, casting about for the right words. "They're right. I am a rat."

And with that, she promptly stood up, striding away and out of the nightclub.

"Aphrodite! Wait!" called Reno, and he stood, striding twice as quickly after her. The slum-girl realized that he had forgotten to pay. Oh, well. Free drinks.

The slum-girl burst out the building's double doors, treading away, her boots echoing with a quick beat—like in 2/2 time. She belonged nowhere…as she thought. Nowhere. She slumped against a brick wall, watching wealthy-looking, well-dressed folks laugh as they passed by. A few glanced at her disgustedly, but those looks never evolved to glances once they spoke among themselves, insulting the young woman from afar.

"Damn them," she muttered. "Damn them all to Hell."

"You're not damning me too, are ya, 'Dite?"

Aphrodite looked up and to her right to see Reno sticking his lower lip out at her. So, he followed. She appreciated. Ares didn't follow her when she left in despair earlier that day, but Reno did now…a regretful smile turned up the corners of her full lips, and her eyes brightened. "Not at all, Reno. Look, can we walk?"

"Sure," he said loosely, and he linked her arm around his elbow. "Down the yellow brick road." He sounded flat.

And this is why she found it comical! Aphrodite grinned at the Turk. "Who would've thought it: a Turk brightening my day? Or, rather, night? I thought you were all supposed to be cold, merciless spies, thieves, and killers."

"That's my job, okay? I have a life too. My job isn't my life. Well, actually, my job kinda takes it over…" Reno shook his head. "Whatever. Anyway, must be weird for you," he commented, his boot-like shoes sounding on the old-fashioned cobble stoned streets of Sector 7's upscale neighborhood (above the plate, of course). This was where the wealthier citizens of Midgar came, Aphrodite observed as she stared at the giant houses, hotels, and apartment buildings in wonder.

Reno seemed to notice the slum-girl's awe at this place's magnificence and said, "Like it?" He guided her arm as they trotted down Cobbler Boulevard, one of Sector 7's main shopping and entertainment places. "I was like that too, when I moved up above the plate. Now it's nothin' new to me."

"But it's so beautiful…" murmured Aphrodite, breathless.

Dozens of shops and interesting places lined both sides of the boulevard, and cars drove down the center street. Tonight's traffic was not the best, but the slum-girl delighted in seeing the automobiles. She had never before seen cars actually moving except for that truck in Nibelheim that never seemed to go anywhere. Above the plate, Midgar was a different world, and Aphrodite was the alien tourist.

They passed Diamante, a jewelry store made explicitly for the wealthy. Aphrodite stopped dead as she stared at a ring on display in the window. The prettiest piece of jewelry caught her eye: a gold ring adorned by tiny diamonds curving into the shape of a heart, an emerald set in the heart's center. "My birthstone…"

Reno noticed how Aphrodite stopped, and he turned to look, cocking an eyebrow. "Whatcha looking at?" His question was immediately answered when his turquoise eyes fell upon the ring. "You like it, 'Dite?"

The young woman could only nod, her gray-green eyes shining. "Beautiful," but once she looked at the price tag, both her face and heart fell. She knew point blank it was going to be expensive, but 50,000 gil? How absurd! "Let's continue on," she mumbled dispiritedly, taking Reno's hand and beginning to walk again.

Reno took one last look at the ring as they continued on, and then he stared at Aphrodite's hand, which had indeed taken his. His eyebrows shot up.

Aphrodite blinked, and realized what she had done with a flush of color in her cheeks. She immediately dropped his hand, scratching her ear in embarrassment. Reno smiled a sly grin.

"Anyway," began the redhead, clearing his throat. "Ya know, I don't live too far from here. In this real nice apartment complex two blocks from here."

"Really?" said Aphrodite, and her gaze, which previously lingered on her boots, shifted to the Turk's face. "Must be luxurious."

"Yeah, but I'm not much of a housekeeper," confessed Reno, flipping his bangs. "Wanna check it out?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"As long as you don't try anythin' funny," retorted the slum-girl, narrowing her eyes at Reno in suspicion.

He challenged her stare of wariness with one of his own, a lock of red hair falling over his right eye. "A Turk is offerin' you a 'tour' of his apartment. I thought you would quickly accept, terrified that I'd kill you if ya didn't." He licked his lips.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, brushing the lock of fiery-red hair out of Reno's eyes. He was so tall! She had to almost stand on the balls of her feet to reach his eyes. The young woman herself wasn't that small, but she did stand about several inches shorter than him. "Not scared, Turkey. At least, not anymore. I can tell you won't hurt me. I dunno what tells me so, but I feel it."

"Don't call me 'Turkey,' babe," said Reno, smirking down at her. "Is that so, 'Dite? Not afraid? What a surprise!" The Turk turned a corner, Aphrodite beside him. They found themselves in an empty alley. "You're pretty intuitive, ya know?"

She shrugged it off—flicking her hand modestly—and observed the alley's dirty ground. "Reno, why are we here?"

"Shortcut," explained the redhead briefly.

Aphrodite raised a dark eyebrow at the Turk as they sauntered down the alley. "To your place?"

He nodded, but then stopped. He fumbled around in his coat pocket, and produced from it a small square carton. He casually leaned on the wall as he had the day they met, and Aphrodite followed after him.

"Ah," trailed off the young woman, tapping her chin with her finger. It was a box of Malboro cigarettes. She observed the small picture of a foul-looking green Malboro: the brand's mascot.

"I need a quick smoke," explained Reno succinctly, lighting his cigarette and sticking it in his mouth. He held the carton out to Aphrodite and offered her a cigarette, his voice muffled. "Wanfa shiggaret?"

She giggled at Reno's stifled offer, but shook her head. "I don't smoke either. That crap makes your breath stink. Kills ya, too."

The Turk shrugged. He removed the cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke. "I started smokin' in my teens. To fit in with the cool crowd." The cigarette went back into his mouth.

Aphrodite was about to speak when something got her from behind.

A pair of arms—not Reno's—grabbed the young woman's waist and arms, and she felt the cold touch of a gun being put to her head. Her eyes widened.

Reno's cigarette fell from his mouth when he stared, immediately reaching for his electro-rod.

Shit. Thugs!