Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Never fear! I intend to finish all the way up to Dum Spiro Spero. The writing's coming along, but I don't have the "grrr!" sort of drive yet... looking for inspirations here.

Guest-26 - I don't think Myers'd eat him alive, although I do believe he doesn't quite approve of the redhead either. I can't imagine a father who'd be happy to see Reno as the daughter's boyfriend, and he knows it.

Guest - This is indeed the rewrite. Obsolete means out-of-date and no longer in use. I'm fleshing it out a bit more, adding a few subplot twists by the secondary characters, adding Kyrie and Evan, e.t.c. So it's going to look quite different.

Chapter 3: ... and an Expected Guest


"Hello," said the man who stood in front of him. Reno tried to regain his composure. Something about the man's eyes were oddly familiar and so distant at once that they unnerved him, then he realised the shapes were exactly the same as Arien's, but they were dark brown, which was rather disturbing to him. He reminded himself that Arien did, in fact, have brown eyes before the treatment, but he had never seen her like that, so his imagination refused to cooperate. With a mental surrender, he gave up.

Myers DeVir watched the boy be indecisive. "Will you be inviting me in, or are you still thinking it over?" He asked wryly.

The wry tone immediately brought him back to attention; the inflection, the tone was identical to that which Arien used when she was a little annoyed. "Oh. Er. Um," he mumbled. "Yeah. Come in." He turned around. "Arie!" He shouted. "Your dad's here!"

Arien's father noted the usage of his daughter's nickname with interest. He remembered his own wife calling her that when she had been alive, but ever since Eliane had died, she had refused to be called by that name. His elder daughter had been closer to his wife than her twin sister, and the loss of her mother had deeply wounded Arien on a level that perhaps even she did not know. But this redhead was casually calling her by that name, the name rolling off his tongue in an easy syllable with familiarity. For whatever reason, his daughter was letting her guard down in front of the redhead, rendering herself vulnerable without hesitation.

The abode was furnished in light colours, with just a hint of beige under every tone. It was clear that his daughter was the decorator, not her partner; from the looks of it, he wouldn't decorate any room in subdued colours even if someone hit him on the head with a paint bucket. Myers saw flowers in a vase as he walked down the corridor behind the redhead, a dash of vibrant colour in an otherwise subdued room. The way she decorated was so reminiscent of Eliane that he was struck with just how much his daughter resembled his wife. The place smelled of dark-roasted coffee and cigarettes, though, not flowers; that was different. The daughter was different from the mother, after all. The sofa was comfortable, and he took time to look around as the redhead hastily made excuse and disappeared. He was just looking through the newspaper when he felt someone enter the room, and looked up.

"Hello, Father," his daughter smiled; the smile was the same as Eliane's, something that, despite having the same face, his younger daughter never had. Myers finally smiled at the sight of his daughter as she sat down. "Bullied Reno enough yet?" she asked lightly.

"I did not bully him."

"He's nervous. I think that amounts to bullying in this case." She laughed. "He really is good to me, Father. You might not believe it, but-" she saw her father raise his eyebrow. "He really is."

"As long as you're happy, I suppose."

"I am." Her face brightened, and Myers turned his head to see the redhead come in. The expression on his daughter's face was so happy that he blinked, but then he noticed the redhead's expression soften, his predatory mien becoming a little gentler and more protective. He sat down, and the father realised that the whiff of coffee was coming from him. He lit up without a concern for the guest. Myers frowned at that, but his daughter seemed unmoved. She stood up.

"I'm making lunch," she said. "Do you want something to drink, Father?"

"Tea."

The daughter nodded and left, leaving the two men in a very awkward silence. They both knew why Arien had left the room, but neither was really willing to seize the chance and embark on possibly the most emotionally confusing conversation ever, so the two kept their silence. White cloud of smoke began to fill, and Myers coughed.

Which went ignored.

The clock's ticks were extremely loud as moments passed. Arien came back with tea, but then returned to the kitchen without much discussion. The white smoke got thicker as the clock marked the seconds, and Myers coughed again, this time a little more loudly. The redhead continued to smoke, his fingers almost mechanically carrying the butt to his mouth and then down to the ashtray. Myers acutely felt the redhead trying to size him up while trying not to be conspicuous about it, from the way he sat back in the chair but his head wasn't thrown back as a relaxed man's would.

Myers coughed for the third time. And his daughter's partner finally noticed.

"Oh. Er. Yeah." The redhead leaned forward. "Would you like one?" He felt around his pocket, and pulled out an extremely squished and deformed pack of cigarettes, almost entirely gone. "Sir," he tacked on, as if it was an afterthought. It was clear the man wasn't used to calling anyone sir, as the word came tumbling out, half-mangled. This boy probably was the type who constantly got detentions while in school; so different from his daughter, who abode by rules whenever she could. So how on earth did those two get along?

"I don't smoke," Myers said. "Thank you for the offer, however."

The redhead shrugged. A peace offering was made, and the fact of it was acknowledged, regardless of its acceptance. The redhead had made a move. It was Myers' turn.

"You know tobacco isn't good for you," Myers warned as the redhead threw the pack onto the coffee table. He was almost lackadaisical in his manners, from the gentle slouch to the way he cocked his head. His black T-shirt had no inscription, but chains dangled from his belt loop; he was decidedly what the youngsters would call "badass" and the adults would call "unruly". A slight grin hovered around his lips, which appeared to be defiant and a little belittling to the older man. Arien came in with a tray, placed a teacup and saucer in front of her father along with a teapot. She handed a coffee mug to Reno without a word, then left with a slight smile hovering about her lips, as if she knew what was going on and wasn't going to intervene.

"Ah, well," he replied, "what's the point in living if ya can't have fun?" What he had just said came back to him in full force, and the redhead realised with a start that he had dropped his guard. And subsequently lost a point. "Er, I mean…" He paused. "Um, yeah. I've been meaning to quit, actually."

"… Right." Myers sat a little straighter in his chair and poured himself a cup. "You do not need to be defencive with me. I just came to see what Arien was telling me for myself."

The redhead shut up.

"You see," Myers continued, "my daughter is not exactly street-smart. Oh, she can defend herself all-right, and do the required tasks in the sector, but when it comes to relationships, her younger sister was far more intuitive about it."

I'll say to that, thought the young man. She was also a conniving bitch and a whore. But whaddya know?

"So call it a father's protectiveness. I do want my daughter to get married, and I do not want to see her weep with a broken heart. She is fragile and does not know how to mend herself. Ordinarily it would be my part to vehemently antagonise you and her mother to be the peacekeeper, but in this case, I must serve as both. Not an easy task for me. So if you-"

"Hold on a sec," the redhead interrupted. "Few things. First off, believe it or not, but I actually never went out of my way to hurt her, okay? I know it's pretty fucking unbelievable, but I actually like her."

Myers was silent.

"Second off, you need to give her a little more credit. I'm not saying she's not fragile, but she didn't just pick me because of my smokin' good looks and my red hair. And she gave a pretty good thought before dating me." He was getting irritated. "And I think taking a fuckin' bullet for her kinda qualifies as a show of devotion."

The father perked up at the last comment. "You did what?"

"I took a bullet for her, okay? I bled all over her carpet too." He remembered that night vividly; he had seduced her that night, had taken her virginity and pretty much everything else as he later found out, but now he wasn't so sure who seduced who in this complicated dance. But he wasn't going to tell the old man that. No father ever wanted to hear about the daughter's first experience with a man, and he was practically a sitting duck. Nope, no way. He heard some sizzling from the kitchen, and smelled olive oil and garlic.

Myers thought for a moment. Then frowned. And asked, "what do you see in her?"

"Huh?" The redhead looked baffled. "What?"

"What do you-"

"Yeah, I heard you." He shrugged. "What do you want me to say? It's not like I make a list and tick stuff off. She's her, and I'm me. Shouldn't that be enough?"

The phone rang again, and both men were rescued from answering that question, for Arien came back into the room with the phone in her hand. "It's Tseng," she mouthed as she shoved the phone to the redhead. He got off the sofa and grabbed the phone from her hand and entered the kitchen, out of earshot from Arien's father. Myers glanced as he saw the boy lean on the fridge, his lanky frame willowy, his daughter standing a little away from him as she bent down to get something from the cabinet. He finished the call soon enough, but Myers twitched when he saw the redhead briefly touch his daughter's arm as he discussed something with her; he was a little taller than his tall daughter, but not to the extent that it'd be conspicuous. There was definitely a level of physical closeness between them that only came when a man and a woman shared a bed, and while Myers knew that his daughter must be sleeping with him, it wasn't a pleasant reminder; but then he realised that people who shared blood on the battlefield also had a similar closeness that only came from sharing their lives at the most basic of levels. So which was it? Or was both?

"Lunch's ready," his daughter said, jolting him from his reverie. "Father?"

"Of course." He stood up, forcing a smile. Myers observed as his daughter bustled about, not particularly his daughter but her partner, studying him. By any standards he wasn't any ideal boy a father would like to meet under the circumstances of "father and daughter's boyfriend"; he looked for any signs of danger that might end up with his daughter in tears, and by all accounts, that was more than extremely likely. But then, he realised that the boy's predatory mien, the razor-sharp edge, softened every time he looked at her… well, as much as an assassin and a gang could soften his expression, that is. There was no question Reno had dealt with gangs before, from the way he behaved, and the way he dressed to the way he walked. Myers just knew. He hadn't made a career in the intelligence for nothing.

And what was his uptight, proper daughter doing with him?

But then again, she wasn't so uptight, if she survived being a Turk; they dealt with all the filth the upper echelons of the Shinra Company didn't want to deal with, which included, but wasn't limited to, kidnapping, blackmailing, and practically everything gangs did. Somewhere something had gone wrong and the more proper of his two daughters ended up knee-deep in the dark dealings any city had. In fact, some of the members of the squad had been gangs before joining the crew.

In the meanwhile, Reno was helping Arien set the table. "What was the call about?" Arien asked under her breath as she placed the plates. "What did Tseng want?"

"Assignment," Reno said shortly. "Something about drugs?"

"Drugs?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are we going to manufacture them?" Clink, the fork said its head hit the knife.

"We already do that," Reno pointed out as he slid the glass across the table. Arien glared at him, but he grinned when the glass settled where he meant it to be. "Nah, it's something else. Something about smack."

"Heroin?"

"That's the proper name, yeah."

"Since when did we care about heroin?"

"Dunno. Tseng sounded like someone caught his ass in the fire or something, though." He shrugged. "And well, since when is Tseng like that?"

Good point, Arien thought as she corrected the incorrect positions of the silverware Reno had placed. He still couldn't get that forks didn't go to the right. "Why did he want to talk to you?" she asked.

"Oh, c'mon, Arie. Out of us four, who knows about smack the most?"

"True." She straightened. "Father?"

Myers, who had been watching the two work from some distance away, sat down, and saw that whatever familiarities his daughter had shed, cuisine wasn't one of them. Reno was still smoking - did that boy have a limitless stash of cigarettes? - but he managed to stub it out before taking the seat at the dining table. Before him was a lunch for three; chicken wrapped in cheese and wafer thin slices of bread fried transparent swimming in tomato sauce, green leafy salad with ricotta cheese, rice with a hint of garlic, and a bottle of wine. The tomato sauce was exactly the same as Eliane's, and he vaguely remembered his daughter in the kitchen with her mother, helping his wife cook. Arien had always been indoors, a quiet girl, never the one to run around outside. Some things never changed, evidently, and for a moment, Myers almost saw Eliane and Reniel come in with smiles on their faces… but Eliane was dead, and Reniel was missing. So much for that.

"Hey, pass the salt?"

Myers was brought back to reality with the redhead talking to his daughter. She casually passed the salt to him, then continued to eat. The redhead had okay manners, which was a surprise to him; Myers almost expected Reno to skewer everything with the knife and shove the food into his mouth, but he did no such thing. Instead, he used his utensils like a normal person, although he did have a tendency to use his fork and knife to gesticulate wildly.

"So, how did you two meet?"

The redhead looked at Arien, who shrugged. "You haven't told your dad?" He asked.

"Nope. Well, I just told him it was at work." She put down the glass of water, then saw Reno scowl. "Oops," she said, shrugging.

"Hang on a sec, why are you asking how we met? You already know!"

"All I know is that it was at work. Details, daughter." Myers glanced at her, who gave the redhead a dirty look. "Please do not tell me you two actually met at a disco."

Arien and Reno prudently kept their mouths shut. While they did not meet at a disco, Reno had seduced her at a club, but telling that to Myers would clearly not fly well. Never mind that it had been Shivvalan's birthday party and neither of them had gone to the club to find a mate. Arien had been drunk, and Reno wasn't about to tell Myers that he had tricked her. It just wasn't something one told to the parents. It also won't do that Arien had tried to sterilise Reno by trying to kick him between his legs. Now to come and think of it, Reno was rather touched that Arien hadn't tried to shoot it off. He wouldn't put it past the woman. Once she made up her mind, the next thing going off would be her gun, and Reno was fairly certain he had been on her shit list back then. Hell, he might still be on it.

But god, that kiss had been delicious. More so because it had been Arien's first admission of defeat. All-right, their relationship was kind of messed up. And somehow both of them had forgotten that three-months trial period he had initially set on their relationship. Suddenly it had been months and shit was happening too fast to seriously talk about where the relationship was going, and then the world exploded and relationships most definitely took a back seat in the priority list.

"No, we did not meet at a disco," Arien replied. She got up to clear her plate away; Reno and Myers still had some to go. "He was my senior agent."

"I see." Myers knew they'd have a story on how they ended up together, but decided not to probe. No doubt they'd go tight-lipped about it, and he wasn't entirely sure he could get the information out of the redhead; Arien, probably, but Reno was entirely another matter. Unpredictable and chaotic, Myers could not figure out what the redhead would do next. "I was a bit surprised, you know, but she always had her wild side. Her music collection from her schooldays should have warned me."

Reno raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" He turned to his girlfriend. "Wanna tell me about it?"

"No."

"Well, Mr DeVir," Reno said lightly, "what did she listen to?"

"She-" He was interrupted by Arien shouting "Father!". Myers chuckled, then shook his head. "No, I think that's for her to tell. It was interesting, however."

The meal ended with small talk about nothing, and then Myers took his leave. As he exited, he saw his daughter wave, and wondered what was that flash of a desolate expression that had crossed her face when he had mentioned her sister. Had something happened between the two? He was aware of the bitter sibling rivalry between Arien and Reniel, but Reniel had disappeared, and Arien seemed to know nothing about what had happened to her sister… and no surprise there, he doubted she was even aware her twin worked in the same building as she. As a Turk and a secretary, those two likely would never have met in the workplace.

But that expression bothered him. Especially because the redhead had glanced at Arien when he had mentioned Reniel's name. Had she not told him that she had a twin sister? Or was there something more going on?

Arien. Where had his innocent daughter gone? Instead, a woman with a mask existed in her place, her mien unchanged save for the fleeting expressions on her face that was bleak and despondent. Was it because of the redhead?

Or was it because of what she had done?

He doubted it was the redhead. As much as he wanted to tag on the blame to the unruly young man, he couldn't; for he saw the same darkness in his blue eyes, and somehow sensed that the darkness was what they shared most profoundly, and the reason why, despite all their differences, they were together. He could only wonder at what kind of experiences would cast such deep shadows on his daughter, and the man who seemly lacked care or worries.