Author's notes: Okay, back to the here-and-now, so to speak. One flashback, but a short one, and much better than the last, I think.
FYI: I don't go so far as to say that this is an AU, but it isn't 100% consistent with the game world, either. In the game, the Midgar plate was constructed only a decade or so before the incidents involving Sephiroth's discovery of his "true heritage." I picture it as an older, more established city, in which some of the characters (specifically, in my mind, Reno), have grown up. I think it's a pretty minor change. I also picture many of the cities as being much larger than the few streets portrayed in the games—I assume that to be a sort of representative sample of the city, not the entire location.
Read and enjoy—that's all this is here for.
For the second time in what she assumed to be one day, Si'ara woke in a dimly lit room with a pounding headache. Being knocked out by EMR was not a gentle way of being put to sleep. She found she couldn't really recommend it. At all.
This time, however, the room appeared to be stationary, and the light filling it came from a lamp she could see glowing softly on a table near the far wall. And in contrast to her previous circumstances, she was lying in a bed now, still dressed, and covered by a soft quilt, her wrists no longer bound.
Reno was leaning against the wall next to a window, gazing out through it, his face illuminated by moonlight. Si'ara took a moment to examine him, noticing that although she now knew where two of his weapons were, and she was fairly certain that he carried more, she could see no sign of their presence. His un-tucked shirt and unbuttoned jacket somehow managed to conceal them completely, creating the illusion of harmlessness that he wore so well.
"Go back to sleep, Si'ara," he said quietly, without even turning to look at her. "It'll be morning soon, and we'll be taking a chopper to Midgar."
"Where are we now?" Ignoring his suggestion, she sat up, looking around her curiously. Reno's PHS and wallet lay on a dresser near the door, and a single chair sat in one corner, plush and velvety, and much more comfortable to her eyes than leaning on the wall. She wondered when he found time to sleep, and whether he ever took off that Turk uniform, or whether it was so sloppy and carelessly worn because he lived in it.
"Junon." He turned away from the window then, granting her his full attention. "If you don't want me to tie you to that bed, I suggest you lay back down." He didn't make any threatening move, just took a silver case from an inside pocket and twitched a cigarette from it carelessly, but his eyes were hard as they swept over her, and she couldn't help remembering how quickly he'd drawn his gun back on the ship.
Still, she wasn't about to let him order her around. While he lit his cigarette, she made a slow perusal of the room, watching as he tried to open the window and grew increasingly annoyed by the fact that the it had no hinges or latches.
"Can't get the cheap hotel window open?"
Aqua eyes flicked to her briefly, impatience with the window temporarily overridden by irritation at her continued questioning. "No, sweetheart, we're not staying at a hotel. That what you wanted to know?"
She stifled her grin swiftly, although not before she knew he'd seen it. "Don't tell me you keep a house in Junon?"
"Of course not." He turned away and rummaged through the dresser drawers until he found a glass dish, dumped the contents back into the drawer, and tapped his ashes off into it. "If it was my place, the windows would open, yo." He took a fortifying drag and leaned back against the wall again. "Belongs to a loyal Shin-Ra employee. We're just borrowing a couple rooms for the night."
"He doesn't mind housing a licensed thug with his prisoner and lackeys?" She wondered how many other people were in the house, what would happen if she started to scream.
"He doesn't have a choice." Reno grinned, good humor at least slightly restored by his nicotine fix . "He has a family to think of, after all."
Si'ara made a disgusted sound. "That's how you do things, isn't it? Threaten people's lives, their livelihoods, their families, just to make sure that you always get what you want."
"Company policy." He canted his head to one side, frowning as he looked at her. "Didn't I tell you to lay down?"
She looked away pointedly, tracing the pattern on the quilt she was under, and only stretching and laying back down when he made a resigned sound and started toward her. "Sorry," she muttered bitterly. "I guess that's what you look for in a woman, hmm? Someone who'll just fall on her back when you tell her to, and then 'take it like a good girl,' I think you said?"
Reno snorted softly in disbelief, and turned to grab his makeshift ashtray. "Yeah, babe, that's what I look for," he said sardonically. "Why not?" he added, lips curling in his customary smirk as he moved back to his spot by the window. "I've never lacked for willing partners."
"I guess if you're willing to take gutter trash to bed, you'll never run out of options," she muttered, then added, "And if you do, you've always got that damned pyramid spell and your mag-rod to fall back on, right?"
He arched a slender brow. "Only time I ever used that pyramid was fighting your pack of terrorists on the Sector Seven platform. Seems to have made an impression on you."
"We could have beaten you if it had been a fair fight. If you hadn't had that damned spell, we could have stopped you."
Reno was silent for a moment, getting one last fix of nicotine before putting out his cigarette, then he walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed with his back to her, staring at the wall by the dresser. "You almost killed me, you know," he said quietly. "Between the three of you, that is. That your idea of a fair fight?"
She looked away, remembering the day that had changed her life forever. It had been the first time she'd faced Reno in combat, although not, as it had turned out, the last.
Wedge was dead, and Jesse and Biggs were dying, but that was a drop in the bucket to what ShinRa had planned-the death of thousands, crushed beneath the Sector 7 plate and dying on its surface as their homes, their personal world, shattered in the fall. The remaining members of AVALANCHE would do whatever it took, make any sacrifice necessary, to stop that from happening.
Si'ara and Cloud had climbed for what felt like an eternity, knowing that the clock was running out. They reached the platform at last to find Barrett facing off against one of the Turks-a wiry, lean redhead with a cocky grin and an air of absolute self-confidence. He was just stepping away from the pillar, a wicked smirk curling his lips, but before he could speak, Cloud rushed him, sword drawn, a cry of defiance echoing as he charged.
The Turk moved with a speed Si'ara would never have expected, deflecting Cloud's sword and dodging a hail of bullets from Barrett. There was no room for Si'ara to move in without getting in way of her companions, so she took the opportunity to study her opponent's style, watching as he dodged and spun and struck, viper-fast, moments of absolute stillness between each sudden attack or defensive action.
His fighting style had clearly been learned on the street, in back-alleys and the seedier sections under Midgar's plate. No motion was wasted, and his eyes never stopped moving, watching both men and their weapons, maneuvering to stay between them, to limit their attack options, making Barrett's gun almost more danger to Cloud than to the Turk he was fighting. And he didn't even pretend to fight fair-when a barrage from Barrett's gun finally caught him, he used a pulse of electricity from his EMR to disable the weapon, then a second, as he dodged behind Barrett, using his body as a shield against Cloud's sword, to leave Barrett motionless on the platform's floor.
Cloud swung at him again, and he gestured sharply, encasing the blond soldier in a shimmering pyramid of force. Apparently confident that his opponents had been neutralized, he'd backed away a step or two, then had turned toward the pillar, and into Si'ara's spin kick.
She felt something crack as she connected solidly with the side of his face. He staggered back, cursing, then turned to look at her. Eyes locked on hers, muscles still tensed for action, he reached up and touched his cheek where she'd hit him, wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and narrowed his eyes.
She'd barely had time to react to the fist suddenly coming at her, then she was on guard and they were circling each other, each watching for holes in the other's defense.
Cloud had caught him at least once with the blade-there was blood on the side of his face, and one of Barrett's bullets had gone through his chest, although she couldn't tell if it had hit anything vital. Si'ara was willing to capitalize on any weakness, knowing the importance of this fight, but that wasn't her usual style of fighting. In contrast, it clearly was his.
He'd made a few quick feints, making contact a couple of times, but nothing serious. His movements weren't exactly graceful and fluid, but the speed with which he performed them made them no less deadly than the classic martial arts moves she'd been taught. He caught her on the side of the head, leaving her ears ringing briefly-she retaliated with a feint at his wounded side and a brutal kick to his left knee. He staggered back and snapped out the EMR he had used on Barrett, swinging it at her face with his left hand while he aimed a blow at her stomach with his right.
And she made a mistake, forgot how the EMR worked. Dodging his fist, she threw up her arm to deflect the mag-rod, and for the first time learned what it felt like to have 300,000 volts arc through her system. She collapsed, dazed and disoriented, and he staggered backward, hand going to the spreading bloodstain on his side.
She thought he was reaching for his gun-she expected him to shoot her, but instead he went over to the pillar, leaning against it and looking down at the timer. He ducked his head to look at her, then pushed off of the pillar and moved toward the railing.
"There's nothing you can do now," he said flatly, directing his words to her, though he spared a glance at Barrett, who was moving slightly, trying to get back on his feet. "You have two minutes, then it's over." He'd cocked his head to the side as though listening for something, then had leapt off the edge of the platform. A moment later, a Shin-Ra chopper had flashed a light across them briefly before vanishing into the night.
In the years since, she'd occasionally wondered how long they would have lain there if he hadn't said anything. She hadn't wanted to move, she knew that. It had taken so much effort to get her muscles to obey her, to drag herself over to the cable Barrett found, grab hold of it along with him and Cloud, and hang on as it carried them to safety. They'd made it out just before the explosives went off, destroying the pillar and dropping the Sector 7 plate.
"You broke my jaw, you know." He reached up and rubbed it as though it pained him still. "It hurt like hell." He glanced down and offered her a crooked, humorless grin. "I really wanted to make you pay for that, for a long time."
Si'ara looked away, then back at him. The memory had somehow washed away the anger she felt towards him, at least for the moment, leaving in its wake a weary regret over the way things had turned out. "It wasn't a fair fight," she admitted quietly. "But there was so much at stake. How could we justify holding back, in any way?" When he didn't answer her, turning his head to gaze at the window instead, she reached out tentatively to touch his arm.
Aqua eyes met hers once more as he glanced back quickly, startled by the unexpected contact. Si'ara let her hand slide down his arm to rest against the side of his thigh. "I didn't enjoy it, you know," she said softly. "Hurting people," a faint grin, "even you, isn't my idea of a good time."
Moving slowly, as though he was afraid of spooking her, Reno reached out to brush his fingertips across her cheek. "What is your idea of a good time, Si'ara?" he murmured, the ever-present innuendo oddly subdued.
A terrible, unforgivable plan took vague form in the back of Si'ara's mind, and she turned her head, brushing her lips across his fingertips, her hand slipping up to cover his before he could pull away. "I don't know," she confessed, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his hand. "Not this. Not…being held captive by a man who resents me, sees me as nothing more than a job to be done. Not feeling weak and helpless and frightened." She swallowed hard on the last word, wishing she was the sort of woman who could cry at will. "I'm sorry." She released his hand and turned her head away, breaking all contact with him.
Reno was silent for a moment, and she began to think that she was more right than she'd realized-that he had no interest in her, and only wanted get this mission done and be rid of her. Or perhaps she'd overdone the drama, and he was deciding what to do in retaliation. Then she felt his weight shift on the bed as he turned his body to face her. His hand settled back on her cheek, and she felt his thumb brush over her lips lightly. "Is that what you think?" There was genuine surprise in his voice, and she opened her eyes to see him watching her, a slight frown creasing his brow.
She gave a soft, humorless laugh, and shook her head slightly. "I must have been the only woman in Midgar, or Edge for that matter, that you never showed any interest in. At all." It was true, and there was no need for her to feign an injured tone. Combined with the dynamics of her relationships with Vincent and Cloud, it had made her question, on more than one occasion, what exactly was so wrong with her.
"How-" Reno shook his head, confused. "Why would you have anything to do with me?" he demanded, searching her face for some clue as to what was going on. "After what I did…"
"You never even tried." She closed her eyes and caught her lower lip between her teeth, then opened them to stare past him at the ceiling. "Never."
Reno saw nothing but genuine hurt in Si'ara's expression. He was adept at reading people-it was a skill he'd developed as a survival trait long before his time as a Turk. A quick study of Si'ara revealed only confusion and wounded pride. It shocked him-he'd always assumed that she tolerated his presence in her bars only because he'd spent half of his weekly salary on drinks, that otherwise she would have preferred not to have him around. He knew they'd worked together since the tragedies in Midgar, but there was nothing he had done that would atone for destroying her home and livelihood, and killing thousands of people she'd been trying to protect.
Cautiously, expecting her to balk at any moment, he coaxed her to sit up, brushing the hair back from her face. "Si'ara," he said honestly, "if I had ever thought I could put my hands on you without getting my ass kicked for it, I'd've given it a try long ago."
Si'ara pushed aside her plans, hoping that he would take any trace of guilt in her eyes as a remembrance of things past, not what she had in mind at the moment. She reached up to stroke his hair, guaranteeing that her arms weren't pinned when he slipped his around her, pulling her close. It bothered her that he was being so gentle, so careful. She'd expected crude comments or careless flirting, not this hesitant, considerate handling. The worst part of it was that this was how she had always imagined Vincent would be, if she could ever get him to see her as more than a close friend…
Reno brought her thoughts back sharply to the here and now, slipping his fingers through her hair and tilting her face up to his, searching her eyes, obviously thrown off-balance by this turn of events . She knew he could feel her heart racing- there was a glimmer of the Reno she was accustomed to in his eyes, cocky and confident, certain of his power over anyone female. Then his lips brushed against hers, and she stopped caring about his attitude.
His lips were soft and warm as they slid across hers, his touch light and caressing. The tip of his tongue flicked across her lips, playful and teasing, pulling back when they parted, only to flick across them again when she pressed them together in a disappointed scowl. She couldn't help it-she laughed without drawing back, then gasped as he slipped his tongue across hers, a quick darting motion that he repeated when she tightened her arms around him, pressing her body to his.
For a moment she abandoned her plans, lost in sensations she hadn't enjoyed for years. His right hand was on her back; she arched against him as he ran his fingernails down her spine, sending a shiver through her body. Tendrils of scarlet hair brushed against her cheek-silky-soft where she would have expected coarseness. The scent of his cologne, the shampoo he used, the spicy cigarettes he smoked, all combined to form a scent identifiable only as "Reno." She surrendered to these sensations, let them surround her and draw her in.
He kissed her gently at first, tracing her lips with his tongue, sliding it over hers, tasting and teasing her. When she could take no more of that and made a soft sound of protest, he tangled his fingers in her hair, his heartbeat quickening. Giving in to their mutual desires, he closed his mouth over hers, exploring her with his tongue-no longer teasing, but demanding-slipping his free arm around her to pull her body tightly against his.
With regret, she realized that this was her chance. His eyes had drifted closed, and he paid no attention to her movements as she stroked his hair, simply holding her close and enjoying a moment he'd never expected to have.
He pulled back the instant he felt her muscles tense, but it was too late. Her fist connected solidly with his temple, allowing her only a glimpse of his startled expression before he collapsed onto the bed. Quickly, she ripped up strips of the sheet to bind his wrists and ankles. Pushing away the guilt that threatened to weigh her down, she dragged him over in front of the door, hoping that his body would slow any guards who might come running shortly.
That done, she looked around the room for anything she might find useful in her escape. Her best plan, as she saw it, was to get to the air base and try to contact Cid or Vincent. But the sun was coming up now, and that plan would work better after nightfall. In the meantime, she would need to find somewhere to stay.
Her eyes fell on Reno's wallet and PHS, lying on the table. The PHS she left, certain that she could be tracked through it, but she grabbed the wallet. It would almost certainly have cards she would find useful in getting into the parts of the airbase she would need.
Then she took the lamp off of the table and picked up the table itself. One well-placed blow shattered the window, making less noise than she'd expected. She looked out and decided that the one-story drop was manageable, then vaulted over the windowsill, careful to place her hands on wood, not shards of glass.
She hit the ground running, just in case anyone was watching, and headed into the back alleyways of Junon, thankful that it was still early enough for them to be wreathed in mist from the harbor, hoping for some kind of inspiration.
Inspiration turned up only a few blocks away, in the form of the young woman, Priscilla, who had helped the members of AVALANCHE when they'd wound up in Junon during their search for Sephiroth. Priscilla was coming around a corner and nearly ran into Si'ara. She looked up to apologize, and her face lit up.
"Si'ara!" Without hesitation, she threw her arms around Si'ara, embracing her quickly. "What are you doing here?"
"Priscilla, I need to hide." She didn't want to involve anyone she didn't have to, but Priscilla was the only person in Junon that she knew she could trust completely. "Shinra is looking for me, and I'm not in the mood to be found. Do you know of any safe place I can stay until nightfall?"
"Of course." Priscilla hated Shinra for the harm they had done to Junon, polluting the village's once-thriving waters, leaving the fisherman who lived there without any means of support. "Come with me." She led Si'ara through the mist-enshrouded streets, down to the oldest part of the city, the original village that had stood here before Shinra's interference.
Si'ara followed her up a flight of stairs to the house she knew to be Priscilla's, but balked at the doorway. "I don't want to get you into any trouble," she protested.
"I don't care." Priscilla's face was set in a stubborn scowl. "If there's anything I can do to hurt Shinra, I'll do it. They need to learn what that feels like."
Si'ara frowned a little. "I thought that with the Sister Ray gone and most of the troops out of the city, Junon was recovering."
Priscilla pushed the door open and went inside, forcing Si'ara to follow in order to hear her response. "Well," she admitted reluctantly, "it is a lot better than it used to be. But my generation won't see it restored to the way it was before Shinra came here." She sighed. "You're right, though-it is getting better. There are fish in the harbor again, which makes Mr. Dolphin happy." A grin lit up her features at the mention of her sea-dwelling friend. "But the damage that was done in the Sapphire Weapon's attack was pretty severe, too. We're really still recovering from all of it."
Now that she was in the house, Si'ara found herself seduced by its homey atmosphere, unwilling to object further to staying here. She nodded, remembering the havoc the attack had wreaked on Junon, then switched the subject to the current predicament.
"I really appreciate you bringing me here, but I suspect that there will be people looking for me before too long, if they aren't out already." She moved away from the windows and the door, just in case.
"What did you do this time?" Priscilla grinned, and locked the door, then checked to make sure all of the curtains were closed completely.
"Well…" Si'ara felt another rush of guilt, but pushed it away. "Originally? I'm not sure. But most recently, I knocked out a Turk, tied him up, stole his wallet, and escaped his custody."
Priscilla's hand had flown to her mouth, covering her startled gasp. "Si'ara!" she exclaimed. "A Turk?" She hurried away from the window and doors as well, but there was admiration and laughter in her eyes. "You didn't…did you?"
"Yeah." Si'ara sank onto a chair, realizing exactly how far she had gone. If she'd been in some sort of trouble before, it had gotten a whole lot deeper. Assaulting a Turk? Robbing him? Even if she hadn't done it in such an underhanded way, her actions would have merited serious repercussions. As it was, Reno's personal thoughts on the matter were likely to involve creative uses for his mag-rod, at the very least. She bit her lip and shook her head. "You know what? I really should go."
"No, no," Priscilla protested quickly. "Actually, you're in the perfect place."
Si'ara raised her head to give the girl a questioning look.
"See," Priscilla explained, going over to the throw rug in the middle of the floor and dragging it aside, "when Shinra first started building here, there were a lot of people who weren't happy. And for a while, they tried to fight back." She stepped back, and Si'ara looked at the floor in front of her, confused. With a grin, Priscilla reached down and wiggled her fingers under the edge of a board to pry it up. She tugged on a ring that was hidden beneath it, and Si'ara realized that there was a trapdoor in the floor. "Since Shinra doesn't take kindly to resistance, they had to have somewhere to hide. This used to go down into some caves, and there were entrances from other buildings as well, but most of that has collapsed. Still, you should be able to stay hidden under here."
Si'ara walked over and looked down into the opening. There was a dry wooden ledge several feet down-it didn't look like a very comfortable place to stay, but it did seem well-hidden. "Thanks," she said sincerely. "I don't know how long it'll take them to show up, so I should probably get settled in…"
Priscilla nodded. "Let me get you some blankets and a cup of tea. You look like you could use some rest." She headed off to fix the tea while Si'ara settled down to wait for nightfall.
