Warnings: foul, foul language and drunk, vague smut

Hey, lovelies. I'm back. Summer was busy, and Game Design College has taken over my whole bloody life but I hope I'm still writing up to your standards… Unbeta'd, beware, but I wanted to get it out to you as fast as I could.

Warnings: foul, foul language and drunk, vague smut

8 --

Everything at that moment was about skin on skin. His hands gripped tightly around his bike's rubber handlebars as my fingers groped and wandered around their new discovery of pale, untainted flesh; too many fucking layers of clothing dulled the friction in a very unwelcome way. He let out a low, guttural growl…

"Fuck's sake, Reno. Cut that out, I can't fucking c-c-"

"Concentrate? Ya sure gotta dirty mouth when yer drunk, Strife…"

"I'm trying to not get us killed here."

"Whas wrong, Spiky? Can't take a lil' distraction while ya drive?"

My bony, curious fingers tugged at his restricting waistband, pushing up his black vest and running across every contour of his firm, ripped chest that they could find as I pressed my whole body flush against his back, desperate for more contact; he let out a breathless moan from the front seat, as his protruding, defined muscles tensed in frustration and tested patience. I watched and felt everything that happened like an outsider, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

"Take your hands off me or we're not going anywhere…"

"Then I'll fall off yer bike, dumbass."

"There are-" He let out a quiet gasp, and the dirt around us churned up in thick clouds; the bike's tires roared against the rocky ground as the bike span to a stop. He turned and stared right at me. "Other ways for us to do this. Do you want me to tie you up?"

"Ya'd like that, huh? Would it help ya sleep at night?" Vaguely I knew he'd mentioned something like that earlier but I was fucked if I could remember. A smirk curled at the corners of my mouth, as his strong, gloved hand gripped my shoulder almost painfully and his other grabbed my ponytail and yanked; I felt his torturous lips on my neck, nipping and licking and fuck it felt good, and I hardly spared a moment to wonder how he knew I liked having my hair pulled, the fucking nosy bastard.

"You know I'd have no problem doing this right here. You're the one who wanted to go to the lodge, so stop-" Someone gasped; could have been him or me this time as I was concentrating on trying to feel every inch of his taut body under my roaming hands. "Fucking-" I let out a gasp of my own, because his teeth sunk into my neck like some kind of fucking ravenous beast and for fucks sake, I actually liked it and no one had been that rough with me in a long time. His teeth were as strong as fangs, and I felt them break through my skin, droplets of blood rolling down onto my shirt collar. "-Teasing me!"

"Okay." I groaned, a moan of submission I was barely aware was even my own, because the mako and the alcohol intoxication my body had clouded every single one of my senses and I was even shaking. I couldn't remember how this had started, or even what was happening five minutes prior but I did know how I wanted it to end. No, how it was going to end. Because either I was going to come hard tonight and it wasn't going to be on my own hand and I was going to scream out my ecstasy for the whole fucking planet to hear or… or… I was going wake up dead and this was all part of some sick plan.

This was all sick anyway, but the mako lit up at every touch and exploded inside me and blinded me 'til all I could do was thrust forward for more friction and not give a shit about my morals. Never needed morals anyway. Better off without them. All I needed was touch, his touch, any touch and I didn't stop to consider why my body had gone insane for it like I'd been deprived for years but the alcohol was definitely something to do with it, because it definitely wasn't…

"C-cloud…" A stutter, a cry of frustration, a smirk on his lips as he hauled me onto the bike in front of him so I couldn't abuse him anymore and we shot off again; something big pressed up against my back, my thoughts wandered, my mind reeled, there was no way that… bulge… was going to fit inside me, no freaking way. No, I was going to have to pin him down to win this one. Perhaps I could pretend he was a girl, that way.

But I couldn't lie to myself. No point anyway. I was drunk as fuck, and I'd already realized I was a sick fuck 'cause I was thinking about my boss in the shower… Rufus… wasn't at the lodge. He would never know about this; would like to keep it that way. A hand wrapped tightly around my hair, yanking it until my head fell flat back on Cloud's shoulder. The bike had stopped. No idea when, but the lodge was visible on the cliffs above.

"Rufus and the Turks?"

Didn't need to be asked twice. "Away. L-lodge is empty." I stuttered, as a hand that wasn't my own snaked down to my throbbing erection again; there was another burst of mako in my eyes, another burst of pleasure sending shivers down my spine. I couldn't shake the feeling that something about what I'd just said but it didn't matter because all that mattered was the hand palming my crotch. I thrust against him harder. Against Cloud. I am a sick fuck. I like it.

We started to move again, and with pleasure gone momentarily, I felt depraved. Then, suddenly there were strong hands on my waist, and my long legs wrapped around his, and I heard the door slamming back on his hinges. My head reeled again, but the lips pressed harshly against mine grounded me, pulled me back to the present.

"Where-?"

"Bottom of stairs, end of hall…" I mutter with ragged breath, barely breaking the kiss to speak. The lights are off but I think he could see anyway. And then my feet were back on the ground, and the stairs felt so completely impossible. I began to run down them two at a time, and then jumped from half way, landing like a cat despite my diluted sense of direction. Must be the training. Grabbing his hand, I threw him up against the wall and we kissed again, tongue on tongue, teeth in lip, and it was vicious and brutal and probably full of hatred but I felt too fucking dizzy to notice we'd stopped and that I'd dragged him into my bedroom, onto my bed, and we've started thrusting against each other before I've said the two words I never expected to hear out of my own mouth.

"Fuck me." It was more like a cry of desperation than a demand but I didn't take the time to sit back and feel pathetic because I was too busy ripping off my clothes to even notice him manoeuvring me onto my knees across the mattress. Absently I knew the mako affliction was getting worse with every minute that passed, because I could hardly see. I let out a guttural groan and let my head fall forward as I felt his tongue doing ungodly things between my cheeks like he just knows what he's doing… I fucking knew what he was doing and it was hard not to thrust backwards. I struggled not to, helped by his strong, calloused hands on my hips gripping too tight and leaving bruises which hurt so good that I wanted to scream. "Fuck me, already!"

"Impatient are we, Reno?"

"Fuckin' do it, Strife," I yelled, but I was too completely off my face to care and his fingers pricked my skin like fire and I needed more, more touch from him and none of this 'I don't want to hurt you' shit that was obviously going through his head.

His hands struggled against my hips, trying to turn me over; I didn't want to look at him but I was too far gone to resist for more than a moment. His blue eyes pierced into my own, which must have been completely green from all the mako. His hands explored my body like they'd never felt anything like it before. I felt a massive pressure against my backside and…

His tongue dove harshly into my mouth, swallowing my scream.

--

The slow, rhythmic pounding of my head would make a very interesting beat for a song. This was my first thought as I slowly woke, refusing to open my eyes, knowing from experience that doing do was only going to make my headache worse. Instead, I chose to lie there, slide my arm out from beneath the nest of covers and rub my head slowly. It never really helped, but I guess it gave the impression of helping or something because I always did it, like I could rub out the hangover. I peeled my bangs from my face as I did so; they'd stuck there in my sweat over night, not that I wanted to think about why I was sweaty. The memory might have been a little hazy, but it was still there… another reason why I didn't want to open my eyes.

Despite the fact I was trying my hardest not to wake the softly snoring lump beside me, in fear of having to deal with the-morning-after, eventually I just couldn't take lying still any longer and shifted in an attempt to turn over. I liked sleeping on my stomach, face down in the pillow, despite the fact I could probably suffocate in my sleep that way. Maybe that was even why I liked sleeping on my stomach, because I've said it before; my sub-conscious is definitely masochistic. Just look at the current situation, for example.

Rolling over turned out to be a little more difficult than I'd hoped because of one strong, thoughtlessly placed arm that was slung over my back, holding me down. I wiggled around, finally opening my eyes out of pure frustration that I couldn't move. Cloud wasn't awake, and I can't stress enough how much I appreciated that. I probably would have lynched the bastard if he had been, and he'd been holding me down on purpose; I don't doubt it for a second, because I'm known to be pretty grouchy when I get this hungover. Not to mention that it wasn't just my head that was aching right now and the blonde would be lucky to make it out of here without having me pummel him into the ground.

Gauging that perhaps he was a deep sleeper, because he was yet to wake up with all my wriggling, I tried to lift his arm. He'd not woken the whole time when I'd had to carry him home from the church in Sector 5, when Rude and I had found him and Tifa passed out there – and I hadn't exactly been gentle with his unconscious form, all but tossing it onto my motorbike and heaving him up his staircase by his shoulders, letting his feet drag along the ground. Not my fault he was so damn heavy; Rude was off in his happy place, or whatever, carrying Tifa in his arms like his damn bride and refused to help me out. Cloud's stupid deadweight arm would hardly move and so I shoved it away violently, too frustrated to continue caring whether or not he woke up, only for the forceful action to push me off the side of my small bed and send me tumbling onto the wooden floor.

I let out some stupid strangled cry of surprise, because I really hadn't expected to fall out of bed, as I hit the floor with a loud thud. If I was sort of sleepy before, now I was really fucking awake. I didn't even bother trying to get up again, just curling up on the ground and hiding my face. I was in too much freaking pain to even think about what I was going to do now.

Whenever I have to make that decision around Cloud, it seems like I never have to think for myself anyway because moments later I heard his voice call my name softly, no doubt questioning where the hell I'd disappeared to and why the bed was suddenly cold. I screwed up my face. I didn't want to accept what had happened… with Cloud. It was bad enough anyway but… it was Cloud, for fucks sake…

"Re- oh." I peered up at the voice through one open eye nervously. "Good morning."

"Is it?" I grumbled, dragging my body upright in the most exertive effort ever and leaning back against the bed frame. I pulled my knees up to my chest, cowering slightly against myself because I felt so fucking angry with myself.… No, I wasn't going to think about it.

"Reno…" He said softly, running his hand through my hair as he spoke and making me jump. I jerked my head away in surprise stared sharply at him. The blonde was looking right back at me, blue eyes shining in the morning light and his pale lips closed tightly, twitching with a grim, fleeting smile.

Panic rose up in my throat, because now I was looking right at him, sitting up in my own fucking bed, I couldn't deny what the hell had happened last night, and worse, I couldn't help that notice his skin was glowing slightly, the dark around his eyes fading and the haggard look on his tired face was gone. Fuck, if his only problem was that he needed to get laid then I hope he fucking got what he wanted and was going to leave me alone now. Cause here I was, sitting naked on my own damn bedroom floor.

"Ya would do well t'get out now." I hissed, looking away from him at the floor again

He stared at me for a moment and I glared back as dismissively as I could, trying to grapple some kind of authority over this situation despite the fact I was crumpled over myself, naked on the floor.

"…Can't we talk about this?"

"You don't strike me as the type who likes to 'talk', Strife." I snapped, slamming one hand down on the mattress more harshly than I needed to and attempting to propel myself up off the ground. I stumbled, but somehow still evaded his helpful hand that reached out to steady me. The last thing I needed now was his help. I knew I was just furious at the wretched memories that had been stirred, but if I was going to be furious at something, it was going to be him.

"Some things need to be talked out." Cloud said calmly, and I could feel his bright eyes all over me. It almost made me nauseous. I took note of what he said, silently… it must have been Tifa's influence on him that had him saying that. The incident with Sephiroth a year ago had changed the man; sometimes I forgot that. I'd almost expected him just to disappear when I told him to and become a recluse again, or something. "Besides, I can't leave now."

"Oh?" I asked, leaning against the end of the bed, naked as the day I was born and refusing to care. That sounded very matter-of-factly to me, although I had no idea why he'd see it that way. As far as I was concerned, he could leave right now and never show his face again, and I could live out the rest of my life pretending nothing had happened. Of course, that was a little impossible, if only because of both our lines of work.

"We came here on Fenrir. You left your bike at the bar, and your helicopter outside Edge."

…Oh, and there was that.

Fuck, I'd almost forgotten. I darkened my glare and flicked my hand towards my bathroom, not taking my eyes off him. "Fine, whatever. I'm gonna take a shower. Make sure ya not in my bed when I'm done. Might be bad fer ya health." I sneered at him, bending down to grab some clothes off my floor, ignoring the fact I was stark naked and still in pain. I'm sure he had a full view of my ass and was probably checking it out, but what did it even matter now? Nothing he hadn't seen. For all I knew, it was covered in his…

Ew. Ew. No! I was not going to think about that. I shot him one last dark look before I slammed the bathroom door as hard as I could, hoping I'd be able to kill him if I emitted enough hatred in his direction. It didn't work. Never did have much luck with mind bullets. Probably a good thing though, because then I'd find myself having to explain why the hell Cloud was dead – and naked - and not just why he was in my bedroom in the first place.

The hot, hot shower just wasn't hot enough to burn the awful feeling in my gut. It was making my skin crawl. Sinning didn't normally bother me at all; if it did, I'd never have been a Turk – sure, my first few kills left me puking up my guts in shame and utter horror after the deed was done but I was pretty much lacking a conscience in that department. But sleeping with a man? It was something I would never forgive myself for. I was disgusting. I'd spent years building up my walls, job security, real friends and now I'd gone and brought myself back down to the same level I had been… well, nothing could fucking change it now. But it hurt. The past always has a way of coming back to bite you on the ass.

I found myself actually shaking under the shower, cold sweat running over my body under the boiling water. I'd been so occupied in my thoughts I hadn't even noticed my own arms snaking round my chest to try and suppress the shivers. Staring down at them in disbelief like I'd just grown tentacles or something, I pulled them away again slowly. Sure, I was angry that it had happened, and at Cloud, and at myself for letting it happen but getting emotional was not my style.

Besides, there was nothing else I could do but what I always did and I guess it was better that way – leave the past in the past. Forget about it, write it off as an accident, let it drift into the back of my mind and settle as a far-off memory that might as well have been a dream. With all the shit that was going on recently, I couldn't let this trouble me. It was hardly the worst thing that had ever happened to me.

Then again, it could be, if word got out. I couldn't risk anyone finding out what had happened between Cloud and me last night either, because it would ruin us both, surely. Or at least me. The planet's greatest hero had fucked with ShinRa's biggest brat. The rest of the planet would probably view it as another triumph for The Good Guys.

I'd squeezed my eyes shut in defence against the spray of the shower and against my own thoughts, but suddenly they'd shot open again. It had just occurred to me for the first time since I'd dragged Cloud to the lodge the night before that Vincent was in the lodge. Not only were these walls not the most soundproof of things – and I'm sure I'm not the quietest fuck when I'm completely pissed – but also, if Cloud saw Vincent here, the shit was going to hit the fan really fucking seriously. All kinds of questions were going to be raised and shit would leak about what ShinRa was up to… the first thing I could write off without too much difficultly unless Vincent saw Cloud here… and then I was in fucking trouble myself, forget ShinRa.

So there was no more time to try and wash away how wrong I felt because there were more serious matters at hand. That could wait for later, when I wasn't about to get caught red-handed in two of the worst possible ways at the same time. There wasn't even time to scold myself, so silently dubbing myself the biggest fool that ever lived, I hurtled out of the shower and into my pants, tugging my shirt on with more difficultly than normal and not bothering to do the buttons up because those things had a way of being really, really tough when you were in a hurry.

I can't say I thought I'd ever be able to say I was unhappy that Cloud was no longer in my bed, but I was. Was he some kind of fucking morning person or something? Why? Admittedly I'd told him to get the hell out of there but I didn't think for a second he was actually going to do as I said. Where would he go?

I was racking my brain for ideas as I stumbled out of my room, cursing the fact I was yet to take the initiative to drink a potion for the dull ache all over my body, which got a million times worse when I walked around. Unless Cloud was as much of a snoop as I am and was ransacking Rufus or Tseng's things, the kitchen and the lounge seemed the only plausible place he would have gone so I scurried down the hall towards the staircase, which looked a lot more menacing now the stabs of pain in my lower back were perfectly in time with my movements.

I was right to predict the stairs being hell; every step I took was like an acute agony that only lasted a brief moment, although I thought the memory of the pain it caused would never rinse away. I hate it when you've healed, but you can still remember what hurting felt like. Its one thing I seem to be cursed with for a long time after I get hurt, almost every single time it happens. This was worse even than when I'd broken my arm a few weeks ago. I stopped halfway up the stairs and groaned unhappily; the pain was a very obvious way of telling that men just weren't meant to do what I'd done the night before. It just wasn't right.

"Reno."

"Huh?" I turned in slight surprise, grimacing as I did so, before I realized who was standing behind me. "Uh… Vincent. Yes?"

"Are you okay?" He asked, with honest concern that was almost masked by his dark voice. I'd learned to recognize it now, at least. "You've been standing there for some time now."

I think I paled a few shades, which is quite an achievement for someone with skin as ivory as my own. I must have looked as white as a sheet. He took note of it silently, his red eyes flicking across my face. Just looking at them suddenly creeped me out. To think that I'd been using words like 'captivating' when I described them to myself! I was not turning into some grade-A faggot.

Vincent was obviously concerned about me, because he pulled out a potion and pressed it into my hand silently. His unnerving stare had me uncapping it and downing it in an instant, just so he wouldn't look at me anymore. "Thanks," I muttered, avoiding his eyes. He was seemingly satisfied, as he slid past me, taking the small vial from me once again as he did so.

"Are you unwell?" He asked without turning to look at me, as he slowly moved up the staircase. "I could make breakfast. It would make you feel better."

The way he spoke had me convinced that he had utterly no idea why on earth eating food would make someone feel better, almost like he couldn't experience that for himself. Perhaps he couldn't… I almost found myself agreeing, until I realized why I had turned deathly pale in the first place. "No, it's fine!" I yelled, chasing him up the stairs at a ridiculously slow speed, as the potion worked it's magic and my body began to return to its normal state. He glanced back over his shoulder at me as he reached the top of the stairs, before he stepped out of sight into the hall. I hissed, hurrying after him. "Y-ya don' have to!"

"Reno, you are stuttering. I could make it for whoever you're here with too, if that's the issue…" Vincent said politely, turning to face me as we neared the kitchen. He pointed subtly at my neck, like he needed to explain himself. My hand shot up to feel the slight bruises, I assume from Cloud's teeth by the feel of them, which were yet to start fading with the help of the potion. I think I might even have flushed a little there… until I saw over Vincent's shoulder just who was sitting in the kitchen at the table.

Cloud. I froze on the spot and grimaced. Why did he have to sit in plain view? He didn't even know if Rufus and the other Turk's were at the lodge, as far as I knew, although I think that might have come up in conversation as he brought me here the night before. Perhaps he didn't care if they saw him here or not. He'd probably made up some excuse as to why he'd come here and stayed the night already. Or at least, I tried to tell myself that.

"What makes ya think that I…" I mumbled helplessly, as if he hadn't just pointed out the really obvious love bites littering my pale neck. I kept my voice low, fearing the worst. Any minute Cloud was going to hear us and then Vincent was going to know… "I mean… I… got yer parcel delivered, Vince."

Somehow I doubted he was convinced in the slightest by my forced grin, as he folded his arms stiffly and raised one eyebrow. "'Vince'? You're changing the subject, Reno…" I watched the corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk he seemed unable to contain, and swallowed dryly. This was totally about to turn into the worst day of my life, I knew that already. "You never struck me as the type of man to get embarrassed over a lay."

I'm sure my eyes widened ridiculously as I choked back a laugh, not really sure what I found funny all of a sudden, except that I was just about to roast him over the fact he'd used the word 'lay' in terms of a bed partner and I hadn't heard anyone say that since I was a scrawny little teen. My mouth opened to jeer at him, but the words never came out…

"Reno, are you up? I made coff-"

Instead, I found the only thing I was able to articulate was an entirely appropriate squeal of "Shit!" as I stepped back in panic, Vincent grabbing at my wrist before I tripped back down the staircase I'd struggled my way up just minutes earlier. I barely even noticed as he pulled me towards him to steady me, my eyes fixed on the blonde in the door. In hindsight, I'd say that he had an uncanny ability to keep me from falling over when I fumbled around like a clumsy fool, but that wasn't really the issue at the time… Cloud was staring straight at Vincent, mouth still open a little from what he'd been saying before he'd been stunned into silence. The priceless look on his face would have been fucking hilarious if I wasn't drowning in a truckload of shit right now. I found myself hoping that in a while this would have all just blown over and I'd be able to look back on it and laugh… if I even survived that long. As it were, I was fucking doomed.

It wasn't until Vincent jerked his head round to see what the hell had me almost tumbling over backwards that Cloud moved again. I'm surprised he didn't even drop the mug he had in his hand but that was probably subconscious self-preservation because I doubt he'd appreciate hot coffee all over his chest. In fact, it almost looked like he was gripping the mug so hard that it'd smash in his hand any moment. "Vincent?" He finally said, calmly as fuck in a way that brought me back to reality and made me want to smash his composed little face right into the floor. Now the blonde had successfully brought the both of us out of our state of shock I struggled out of Vincent's grip and backed into the wall, dumping my face into my hands in embarrassment.

"Cloud." Vincent said emotionlessly, acknowledging the man and nothing more, much in the manner that he'd spoken to me when we'd first brought him here. I peeked up through my fingers to watch the scene unfold, hoping I could melt into the wall or something equally as life-saving right now, only to have Vincent turn back to face me briefly, the same smirk hovering on his face as there had been moments before Cloud's abrupt interruption. I cowered slightly, wishing a sudden, bloody, painful death upon myself, and those around me to save us all the humiliation of this situation.

"What are you doing here?" Cloud grumbled, staring at the back of Vincent's head, slightly more harshly that I would have expected for a guy who called Vincent one of his friends. Could I call Vincent a friend now? Probably not after what was unfolding right now, but I'd think about that some other time.

I don't know why it took me this long to realize that it was obviously fucking weird to Cloud that Vincent was here but it hit me like a ton of bricks and something in my head snapped. I had to get out of this situation right now, somehow, or it'd be my head on a stake. I'd probably just been too fucking wrapped up in my own troubles to realize or something. Or I'd just gotten that used to Vincent's presence that I'd forgotten he hadn't just… always been here with us. That second thought unnerved me slightly, for some reason.

"What are you still doin here?" I snapped, throwing my hands down from my face and straightening up before Vincent could speak or Cloud could ask anything else. I doubted that'd throw a man like Cloud off anymore; although there was a time when his self-esteem was so low that a comment like that would send him reeling. That was a long time ago now, though… I used to really enjoy picking fun at the kid, once.

Still, he did recoil a little and stared right back at me. As if he was considering my words for a moment he sipped the coffee he was holding, small scowl on his face as some of it dripped down his chin. I hope it burned the bastard. Slowly he nodded to me, lifting the coffee mug in way of what I almost thought was his pathetic attempt at an explanation for a moment. Then, when he did speak, I found myself wishing it had been. "Sorry. I did want to talk to you about the Stigmatalime though… I'll be on the deck."

So for the second time in five minutes, Cloud left me speechless and stunned, albeit for different reasons. He raised another questioning eyebrow at Vincent as he turned away, but held his tongue and stuck to his word, heading for the deck.

When Cloud was out of sight, I whipped round to stare at Vincent furiously. I wasn't really mad with him… he'd done nothing wrong, but he was the nearest target right now. I'd been given one simple fucking job when the others went away – 'Don't let Valentine escape'. And whilst I hadn't exactly failed to do so I couldn't say I was better off for the fact I'd slept with fucking Cloud, and now he knew two of our biggest secrets. Shiva only knows how he found out about Rufus' disease, though. I don't remember the last time I'd fucked up this badly. Everything else just kind of made the fact that Vincent could probably tell what I'd done with Cloud insignificant… or at least until he shattered my anger with two simple, unjudgemental words and I fell apart again. Man, was I ever a wreck.

"You're… gay."

"No!" I shouted in defense, my eyes dropping to my hands, the floor, anything to avoid the crimson gaze of his own eyes. The statement was more of a need for confirmation than it was an insult but I just didn't want to hear it. It wasn't fucking true, anyway. I sucked in several sharp breaths and clenched my eyes shut, almost unconsciously scratching at the wooden panelling of the wall behind me as I tried to calm myself down. "Don'. Don' jump ta that conclusion. I am not a fuckin' queer, okay?" I found myself hissing in defence, looking at him sharply once again before I turned down the hall to head after Cloud and find out what the fuck he was on about. "Ya… don' need ta make breakfast, anyway." I sighed, my steps faltering for a just a moment before I took off at a jog to get away from the man I was almost on the verge of calling my friend. Not anymore, I guess, since he was probably going to hate me for this. That was just another situation I'd damaged with this turn of events. Dammit Cloud, and his stupid materia…

The spiky-haired blonde was leaning over the railing of the deck, steam from his hot coffee visible in the air above him when I exited the lodge. It was a crisp morning and I hugged my shirt around me, still not taking the initiative to do the buttons up, because the horrible, lingering feeling of disgust at myself still hung over my head from when I'd woken up and the last thing I wanted was to feel constricted and trapped by anything, especially my shirt. I hated to feel trapped – I was extremely claustrophobic – one of the reasons I never did up the top buttons of my shirt, or wore a tie, was because the feeling panicked me so much. A tie was like a noose around my neck, I swear.

"How do ya know about the Stigmata thing?" I asked curiously, stepping up beside Cloud and leaning over the rail in much the same fashion that he was, not even turning to look at him as I spoke. Last thing I wanted to do right now was catch the bastard's eye and have to think about what had transpired between us again.

"Why is Vincent here?" Cloud demanded curtly, ignoring my question completely. I could feel his blue eyes boring into my damp skull.

"I asked first." I demanded, pushing a wet bang away from my eyes so I could look out over the misty valley better. The mist hung low on the cliff sides, masking the trees and bathing the scenery in white. It made everything feel a little more surreal, somehow. My brief moment of panic in the shower was like a distant memory, for the time being. Get up and go, that was me. I didn't have time to let my thoughts linger on all the shit that I'd done. Or at least that's what I told myself, as my subconscious tried to tell me that lately I had all the time in the world to think if I wanted to.

"You left notes about it lying on your desk. Excuse my curiosity." He explained slowly. "It caught my eye when I was retrieving my clothes."

'Retrieving' his clothes. Gaia, he almost made it sound like a business meeting. Although, for all I knew, he probably even saw it that way. Still…

"I didn't leave those lyin' on my desk," I snapped and looked at him, hinting unsubtly that I was suspicious that he'd been rooting around in my stuff. I wouldn't put it past him. Shiva knows, he was probably looking for a diary or something gay like that to see how I felt.

"Really? Funny. That's where they were, and where they still are."

"But-"

"My turn. Why is Vincent at the lodge with you?"

Cloud's voice had dropped several volumes and I turned to look at him curiously, only to find his hand outstretched. He reached up and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear slowly, and I watched him with baited breath, revelling slightly in the feel of his fingers running across my neck as he pulled away. Gross, honestly… I must have just been too shaken from the whole ordeal to react. That was it. It occurred to me I shouldn't really be letting him touch me like this considering I'd been on the brink of a panic attack not even fifteen minutes ago. Albeit a panic attack that would never come, because I'd long since learned to suppress them, but it was like teetering on the edge of a void every time I felt one rising up in my throat. I can hardly say I liked the sensation.

Then I flinched. "His reasons are his own." I snapped, turning to look out over the valley and touching my ear where his fingers had been, unhappily. "I think one of them might've been ta keep as far away from yer Avalanche pals as he could, though!"

"I see." Cloud replied steadily, turning his attention away from me again and out over Healin.

We were silent for a few more moments as he sipped his coffee, seemingly lost in thought for the time being. It was almost kind of peaceful, or would have been if it were not for how fucking uncomfortable I felt standing this close to the man after what we'd done the night before.

"Ya wanted ta talk ta me about the Stigmata?" I said hesitantly, turning to face him again, and leaning my back on the railing.

"Not really." He sighed, finishing the last of the coffee and taking his time to stoop and put the mug on the deck floor. "I just wanted to give you time to come up with a viable lie as to why Vincent is here." Cloud scoffed, not looking at me.

"Right." I grumbled, rubbing the back of my neck and fumbling around in the pocket of my pants for the packet of cigarettes that should have still been there from the last time I'd worn them. My eyes lit up as I grasped them successfully, before it suddenly sank in exactly what he'd said and my head snapped round to look at him. "Hey! I wasn't lying." I lied, flinching again.

"Sure." He said slowly, pulling a lighter out of his pocket when I failed to find one in my own. No, pulling my lighter out of his pocket. I shot him a questioning glance, taking it cautiously like he'd rigged it to explode or something. "You kept trying to burn me with it last night. I wasn't letting you hang onto it."

"Burn you?" I murmured, shaking my head and lighting up. I didn't even want to think about what we'd done the night before. I hoped he hadn't heard me in case he wanted to talk about it. In fact, the best option was probably just to change the subject again. "So, ya getting the fuck out of here anytime soon, Strife?"

"Why's Vincent really here, Reno?"

I growled quietly, staring at the outside wall of the lodge, willing my eyes to see through it and find Vincent. Since I didn't know how to activate my eye beam, I just scowled. "None of your business."

"Of course not." Cloud sneered, catching my attention suddenly. As I veered my head round at him I caught his eyes, glaring back at me. "So what? You're sleeping with him now too? Is that it?"

"Hey," I yelled again, shoving his shoulder and almost catching my cigarette on his skin. "What makes you think I'm 'sleeping with' you?"

Cloud said nothing, just continued to watch me silently, so I only saw it as a fit opportunity to tell him exactly where he stood. How dare he suggest I was fucking Vincent? I wasn't gay, and of all people… Cloud just… "I was fuckin drunk okay? Intoxicated. Off my head, whatever you wanna call it. I didn't know what I was doing. We'd had too much ta drink and when you used…" I fumbled with my words, my yelling trailing off until it was inaudible, dropping my eyes to the floor and away from his piercing gaze.

"I know... the cure materia right?" He said slowly, turning away from me. "I had no idea you were an addict."

"What? I'm not an addict, Cloud," I was actually shocked that he'd know what he was happening to me… last night… no, I was furious. He'd usedme? And now he was accusing me of being an addict. I had no idea how he connected those two things in his head but still… fucking bastard. To think I'd called the two of us buddies at one point. "Why are you still here?"

"Right. Just say the word, Reno." Cloud sighed resignedly, as he bent down to pick up his coffee mug again.

"Leave, then." I snapped, dumping my face in my palm and scratching my temple.

"You're not curious about the Stigmatalime then." The words were more of a statement than a question. I was, but that wasn't the point. Whatever he knew, I did not feel like dealing with right now. Despite the fact it was probably my job to question him, I figured since I wasn't supposed to know about the Stigmata anyway so I could leave it for another time, when it wasn't the morning after he'd just fucked my brains out. Ew, I had to stop thinking about it. He started towards the lodge again but I grabbed his arm. "I'm outta here. You don't need a lift to Edge to pick up your bike?" He said without looking at me.

"No." I sighed, tugging the mug from his hand. "Jus go. I'll put this away."

The blonde nodded, changing course and hurrying over to the steps down to where his bike was parked. He paused only once more, at the top of the staircase. "Running from things you don't want to think about never helped anyone."

The words were quiet, almost too low for me to hear and I doubted he actually wanted me to hear them at all. I watched him walk out of sight before turning my back to him, trying to ignore what he'd just said, because it was too close to home for comfort and he was a total hypocrite. I headed into the lodge as I heard his motorbike starting up. Good fucking riddance…

Oh, fuck. I slammed the coffee mug down on the window ledge and ran back outside, almost falling over the railing as I bumped into it. "Cloud! Oi, Cloud," I yelled, just before he took off down the road. The blonde looked up at me, his silver sunglasses now covering his eyes, making him look slightly alien in the heavy fog. I ran down the stairs, almost slipping down some of them in the morning dew. "Cloud, wait."

"I am waiting. What?" He sighed, just as I tripped over the bottom step and stumbled to my knees in the gravel in front of him. I heard the engine of the bike stop again, and all of a sudden he'd jerked me back to my feet. "Clumsy…" Cloud muttered, wiping his hand off on his pants like it was dirty suddenly, just from touching me.

Oh yeah, that made me feel good about myself.

"Whatever." I hissed. "Ya can't tell anyone Vincent's here. Okay? He'd fuckin kill me."

Clearly that was not the reason I couldn't have Cloud telling anyone of Vincent's whereabouts but for a moment Strife looked like he'd bought the lie.

"Right." He said uncomfortably, shifting on his feet. "Was that all?"

"Ya got ta promise. And I don' want anyone finding out bout… y'know."

"Like I'd tell anyone that," Cloud scoffed, kicking the dirt slightly. The action seemed a little bizarre coming from him. I could have laughed at the idea that he felt as uncomfortable as I did right now… you know, if I didn't feel so uncomfortable.

"Huh?"

"I don't sleep with straight men, Reno. Not usually." As he climbed back onto his bike, the words sunk into my head. See, Cloud knew I was straight. He was using me! At least he was getting the fuck out of here now. Wait…

"Yer gay?" I questioned, as the realization hit me. Cloud looked at me like I'd grown a second head. But I was justified! He couldn't be a flamer! He'd been engaged to Tifa. Hadn't he been involved with that Aeris girl?

"Obviously." He said awkwardly, flinching slightly and turning the ignition on his bike again. I almost felt sorry for him, for being embarrassed. Cloud embarrassed was just, well… embarrassing. Didn't like it at all. "Don't tell anyone. I'll have to hurt you."

"Ya got my word fer it, Strife." I said bitterly with a coldness I didn't actually find myself feeling all that much. Instead I had to bite back the urge to tease him a little, because it would be too friendly; I felt the need to hate him, but my heart really wasn't in it. I had to put it down to how weird it felt to watch the big hero get embarrassed over his little secret, because explanation eluded me. At least I wasn't paid to think. "If ya keep yours, of course."

Of course I wasn't going to fucking tell anyone, but I didn't want him thinking that I'd allow him that without getting something in return. I dreaded the idea of anyone asking how I'd found out because Cloud hardly seemed like the type to just confess his secrets to anyone, especially not a Turk. Especially not me.

"I said I would. You're sure you don't need a ride?"

"Get out of here." I scoffed, only for him to roll his eyes.

"I'm gone." Cloud muttered, back wheel of his bike spinning and churning up the dirt track before he shot off down it, leaving me scowling in a cloud of dust. I dropped my neglected cigarette onto the ground and stamped my foot down on it hard to try and take out some of my frustration.

My stomach rumbled as made my way back up the steps I'd slipped down a few minutes ago. The idea of Vincent making breakfast for me suddenly didn't sound so unappealing anymore, but I'd shunned him already and he was probably too pissed off to cook. Perhaps it was worth me cooking in some failed attempt to apologize for whatever I'd done wrong this morning. Or rather for everything I'd done this morning.

However, as I stepped inside the building the smell of breakfast wafted through the room. Vincent was already cooking; I really hadn't seen that one coming. I made my way through the various doors standing between me and the delicious smells and smiled slightly.

"What's cookin?" I asked, hanging in the doorframe and watching the ex-Turk busying himself with the food.

"Bacon, eggs, fried toast. I suppose I don't need to ask if Cloud is staying for breakfast." Vincent replied, not turning to look at me. I shrugged uncomfortably and moved into the room, standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor.

"No. He left already."

"You don't need to get defensive, Reno. I'm not accusing you of anything."

"I know." I sighed, moving up behind him and peering over his shoulder. "Anything I can help ya with?"

"Nothing at all…" He said, nudging me away again with his elbow. "Go sit down. Actually, you could lay the table."

"Doin' nothin sounds like more fun." I smirked, but did as he said anyway, even taking the initiative to lay two plates out on the counter beside him. "Thanks, Vincent…" I muttered, more to myself than to him but I'm sure he heard me anyway. I didn't know enough about Vincent to make presumptions, but his eyesight and his hearing seemed to be beyond average capability and I didn't doubt that his senses were probably super-enhanced or something. It wouldn't surprise me.

"You look like you needed it. Rough night?"

"Fuck you." I snickered, shoving him slightly and going to take my usual seat at the table. Everything felt like it was slipping back into whatever strange place it had been in before I'd left the evening before; I wished it would, and that everyone could just forget about what happened that night. "Shelke's a weird girl, yanno." I told him, after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Hmm?"

"Shelke. Knew all kinda shit about me I didn't think she'd know. Freaked me out."

"She used to be in Deepground. She was connected to the SND at some point… probably knows more about any of us than we'd care for her to know."

"SND?" I asked curiously. Never heard of that one before.

"Synaptic Net Dive. I don't really know that much about it myself but from what I gathered, it allowed her to connect to the worldwide network and retrieve any information she liked."

"Then why would she know about me?" I questioned, watching Vincent like he had the answers as he served the food.

"Beats me." He said, sitting opposite with his own food. I knew from spending the week with him that he wasn't actually going to eat it, he was just going to push it around his plate for a while, even though he'd told me before that he was 'hungry'. Part of me doubted that he knew the meaning of the word anymore and just used it out of habit instead. Must be weird, living in stasis for 30 years. He'd lost the ability to age, and everything. I bet that would be pretty cool, though. "Perhaps she had a crush on you."

"Pffft!" I chuckled, almost choking on my food. "Crush on me? She doesn't even know me!"

"I'm joking, Reno. You work for ShinRa. She's bound to know everything about the place, I'm sure."

"Joking? Ya don' make jokes, Vincent. I didn't know ya even knew the meaning of the word!"

"Cruel, Reno." He scoffed, actually taking a bite of the toast he'd been holding for a good five minutes. The last time I'd actually seen him eat was the first time he'd cooked for me, before we'd played cards. He'd said that cooking was a one-time thing back then but he'd cooked for just me several times after that, too. I guess he just appreciated how grateful I was for a tasty meal, or something.

"Eating too, Vincent?" I snorted, "Who are ya and what have ya done with my friend?!"

He didn't say anything, but I saw his lips curl up in a dry smirk as he tugged his cloak down so he could eat more easily. I smiled to myself slightly as I took another bite of my own meal. It was good as ever. I can't believe the man ever said he couldn't cook that well because everything he'd cooked me had been really nice.

Suddenly I found myself shaken by the thought that this all seemed too comfortable. We were joking like we hadn't been standing awkwardly in the hallway with Cloud half an hour ago. Putting down my cutlery, my hands snaked down to my pocket and I pulled out another cigarette and lit up, foot tapping anxiously on the floor. I didn't like how relaxed this seemed and really felt the need to say something.

"I'm…" I said quietly, staring at the food Vincent had made me like… like a proper friend. It did occur to me that I has just called him my friend a moment ago… in fact, perhaps that was what he was smirking about. "I'm not gay, ya know, Vince."

I heard him put his cutlery down, and flicked my eyes up at him briefly to find him staring past me in silence. His face was screwed up a little, like he was deep in thought, but I didn't give myself time to think about it before I looked down at my plate again.

"Why are you calling me 'Vince' all of a sudden?"

"Uhh…" Why was I calling him Vince all of a sudden? I didn't usually give people nicknames, or at least not unless I wanted to piss them off. Tseng and… Cloud… fell amongst the ranks there but the only person I had a real nickname for was probably Elena and that's because she was like a little sister to me. I'd only just started calling Vincent by his first name too, which only made it weirder. "Sorry."

Well, what else was I supposed to say?

He gave an awkward nod and stood up slowly, grabbing the plate of food he'd barely touched and leaving me sitting there alone. And there it was, the tension I'd been expecting to feel the whole time… I shouldn't have said anything, I guess. He started clearing up everything he'd used to cook and I was about to tell him I'd do it, only because I felt kind of bad now, although I don't know what I had to feel bad about. Probably some screwed up reason, to do with the fact him and Cloud are friends. Fucked if I know… anyway, as I opened my mouth to speak he jerked round and gave me a warning look that almost made me back away in surprise. He hadn't looked at me like that since we'd first found him back in Wutai… so I held my tongue and left the table myself. I kind of felt like there was suddenly nothing left to say.

At least I had stuff to do; I almost regretted not hitching a lift to Edge with Cloud, although sitting on that damn bike with him again would have been the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to me. I had to pick up my own bike, or at least the chopper before Rufus and Tseng returned or they'd probably actually kill me on the spot. I already felt like I was in the worst trouble ever since I'd been snooping around in there their things the day before and Cloud had found out about the Stigmatalime and Vincent. Suspiciously leaving the helicopter just out of Midgar when I wasn't actually supposed to leave the lodge wasn't about to get me in their good books as far as I could tell.

It meant leaving Vincent here alone again but I didn't really see what else I could do at this point… right now didn't seem like the best time to go up to him and say, 'hey buddy, I lied to you about being able to leave the lodge yesterday! Why don't we take a trip to Edge today to pick up the helicopter I left behind when I decided to sleep with your friend?' What the hell had I been thinking, telling myself white lies weren't going to come back and bite me on the ass? I'm a fucking idiot sometimes.

I grabbed my jacket and my EMR, and eventually found my keys under a pile of last night's ruined clothes – yet another shirt to throw away – and headed down towards the parking garage. To make matters worse I didn't really have any other option now but to 'borrow' Tseng's bike so I could get to the chopper. He wouldn't find out, unless I was so unlucky that he and Rufus returned today, whilst I was out, especially since it was only going to take me an hour or so to get there and back. What else was I supposed to do, walk to Edge? Pffft.

Before I worked for the Turks, I'd become something of a master at hotwiring vehicles, which came in handy because Tseng wasn't the type to simply leave his shit lying around, especially something as precious as the keys to his bike. I could spend all day ransacking his room looking for them and for all I knew, he'd taken them with him anyway. On my knees, covered in engine grease is not really the way I wanted this god awful morning to carry on but that's where I found myself, chewing a cigarette butt to death because I was smart enough to know lighting it here was likely to blow the damn place up. Try explaining that one to the boss.

Just as planned, the engine hissed and rumbled and the motor started, which left me hoping that perhaps the day was looking up for me at last. As I finally did up the buttons of my shirt, I considered telling Vincent where I was going, but then thought better of it. It's not like he was my damn housewife or something… and he'd shunned me that morning after I'd tried to… you know… raise a sensitive issue and all that bullshit. So just fuck it.

I sped off over the bridge in a trail of dust, not looking back at the lodge even once as I went. If it went up in flames that very moment then… good riddance. It would burn away my troubles.

Getting to Edge by bike wasn't as easy as it once had been, especially on Tseng's Daytona 4000, which handled completely differently to my old hunk o' junk. At least it was comfortable, like Cloud's bike… I was used to the aerial view of the area and whilst I wasn't completely lost, I had hardly been watching where to go when Cloud had driven us this way the night before. I almost took a wrong turning and headed to Kalm, purely out of habit. I spent the whole time trying to concentrate really hard on the road, to avoid thinking about anything else, but that simply led to thinking about everything I'd been trying to avoid. I fucking hate myself some days, and this stupid head of mine.

Seemed like fucking forever before the rocky outcrop came into sight where I'd hidden the chopper and for a good twenty minutes I'd thought I'd gone the wrong way and that I was gonna end up at the north coast instead. For the sake of preserving Tseng's precious bike, I stopped it a little while back and wheeled it slowly over the bumpy rocks I would have taken at full speed on my own; Shiva knows he'd have my guts out if anything ever happened to it in my care.

No visible damage to the chopper – but I had my suspicions. I just didn't leave it places for more than a day unless I absolutely had to. It was pretty well hidden but you never knew with the bastards around this area. Someone could have sabotaged the rotary blades or cut the oil supply and I'd be crashing the second I'd lifted off the ground, which didn't sound too appealing. After struggling to lift Tseng's bike into the back of the chopper all by myself – once again I'd forgotten the damn ramp – I spent a good half hour checking every possible place for signs of planted bombs or vandalism. I felt I was justified, after the leak in the oil tank on my bike in Edge the day before.

Satisfied that my baby was completely intact, I hoisted myself up into the seat and pressed the keys into the ignition. After an extensive ride on Tseng's bike, which only served to reassure me I didn't want to upgrade my own just yet, the bench in the chopper and the gearstick in my hands felt like heaven. I ran my hand over it slowly, revelling in the feel of it for just a moment.

There was still the question of my own bike, which was still parked outside Seventh Heaven, or at least I assumed so. I trusted Tifa and her avid fans to keep it from getting damaged… at least enough so that I was not going to go and pick it up right now. Partly because I didn't really want to be parking a ShinRa helicopter suspiciously on the freeway outside Edge, which I hadn't done since the incident with the remnants and that had ended with several explosions, fireworks, and one angry Reeve Tuesti, since we'd blown up his unfinished road… partly because I didn't want to run into Cloud again. Yeah, I'm a total chicken when it comes to some things, but it can't be helped. I checked my watch with a frown, suddenly finding myself less anxious about getting back to the lodge and spending more time cooped up with Vincent. Well, there was the construction site to check out. Actually, that didn't sound too bad an idea.

I fired up the engines, checking how much oil was in the tank and listening to the smooth sound of the blades spinning, like daggers slicing though the air endlessly. It was a really comforting sound.

As I took off, I did something I haven't done in a long, long time – turned the radio on in the chopper. I don't know why I never do it, possibly because the radio is supposed to stand solely as a service instrument for work, but a little music is always helpful for clearing your head and blocking out your thoughts. Although, tuning a radio whilst you're flying a helicopter is hardly the easiest thing to do, mainly because flying a helicopter requires precise skill and concentration on three separate movements of your wrist at the same time, plus two foot pedals and fifteen different essential dials. Still, whilst I may not have attempted to tune the chopper radio into the local Midgar radio stations in several years, I'd been flying the chopper for almost ten years, and came out of the academy as the best damn pilot they'd seen in years, which is why it's always me flying it for the others. I rested one of the gears against my knee and held it steady with my elbow as I fiddled with the dials on the stereo, picking up various broken signals and annoying pop songs before I found something vaguely bearable. I guess one of the reasons I never use the radio has got to be because music is so damn terrible these days.

When I was still living in Sector 7, I spent a lot of my free time hanging about with a rough gang of guys, getting wankered and listening to street punk. I never really knew much about them; I was probably around fourteen back then, maybe younger but those couple of years are all like a smear in my memory because of the drinking and the drugs. They were much older than me, ten or possibly even fifteen years older, and they all went by these tough-nut nicknames and never told me their real names. I didn't care, though. They were kind of like brothers to me for a little while… sick fucking drug-dealing brothers, the kind the family disowns, but it's all the same to me.

It's funny that Cloud would assume I was an addict, for whatever reason he had done so, because I was for about a year. Makodeine was a pretty cheap drug back then. It's a combination of the mako residue that leaks out of reactors and opium, which is pretty widespread around Midgar – fields and fields of opium flowers grow to the west. In fact, I think it was even extractable from the flowers the Aeris girl used to sell. It's just natural latex from the sap. The whole lot is dried and powderized to make the drug, and it mixes well in drinks. It's less widespread now, with the reactors being made safer by the W.R.O and ShinRa not selling mako how it once had. Anyway, the guys I called friends would give it to me, enough to knock me senseless. I was never properly hooked, because when it came to getting off the stuff when I joined ShinRa, I found it pretty easy. I'd always wake up pretty well cared for after a trip, anyway, which is probably why I kept taking it for so long, because I only twice had a bad experience. One of them was the last trip I ever did with the gang. In the end it all fucked up pretty badly, but I don't like to talk about it anymore. They're dead, now.

I was pretty curious that Cloud was hinting to addiction being what causes my problem with Cure materia… but I didn't want to be thinking about Cloud. I was talking about music. And on that subject, the music on the radio crackled again and started to die again as I flew closer to the cliff side where the alleged construction site was for the new ShinRa building.

'Meryl, what's your position?'

The radio sprang back to life again with a jittered voice that didn't sound much like an FM show. I arched a brow curiously, upping the volume and watching the lifeless thing out of the corner of my eye like it was about to jump up and run away. I hadn't picked up a stray signal in a long time… perhaps I should start turning the radio on more often.

'64 degrees south of point F, boss. Bottom of the scaffold.'

"What we got here?" I asked out loud to no one in particular. The quiet, determined voice had peaked my interest. Of course there was plenty of scaffold around Midgar with the construction the WRO had going, but it did sound slightly… suspicious. With just a moment's hesitation, I flicked the switch for the tracking system, trying to align it with the radio signal. It wasn't picking it up.

'Good work, Johnson. I'm still waiting for Simmons. If you receive no further contact, move out in five.'

The deep voice was getting quieter. I cursed under my breath, taking my hands of the gearstick again to flick a switch on the passenger's side that would turn on the radar, keeping the chopper steady with the pedals. This sounded a little too suspicious. I know I wasn't on a job, but the Turk in me was kicking in instinctively and I didn't want to lose the signal now.

'But sir, the explosives…'

'Did you not lay the satchel you were carrying?'

The voices were getting weaker and harder to hear. I hit the dashboard in frustration, not so silently cursing our outdated technology – living in seclusion for three years hadn't left the… 'investigation department'… with the best gadgets out there. That might have been about to change though, if some shit was about to go down.

"C'mon!" I yelled at the radio, hearing a sharp hiss whilst something completely inaudible was said. The radar took too fucking long to boot up and my temper was pretty short when it came to technology.

'Good job, Simmons. Rendezvous in twenty at...'

That was it. I'd lost it completely and since this was obviously not some simple banter between co-workers, I was pretty pissed off with myself. I could see what was obviously a massive fucking construction site just a few miles ahead too – I had no doubt that it was the new ShinRa tower, if only from the sheer size of it up the mountain.

The radar bleeped on, but the signal was gone.

Motherfuck…

'Seven at the south east point. That's the last of 'em. I'm moving in!'

And there it was. Our glorious technology picked it up out of nowhere and now it was transmitting directly through the tracking system. Except the bad news looked like pretty bad fucking news… the map on the system was directly me straight to the building in front of me. As if I'd almost forgotten in the last few days that just a week ago it had felt like we were in big trouble, now the revelation hit me in the face like a ton of bricks. I switched the dial and had the tracker bring up an infra-red image. The technology might have been outdated but damn, it still did its job. I could see two moving life forms through the building - and if the radio transmission was anything to go by these might well have been 'Simmons' and 'Johnson' - and they showed up like fireflies in the night… I couldn't pick up weaponary on the radar, not even heavy duty bombs, but I wasn't going to take anything that I'd heard lightly, in which case, I had to assume their were at least seven sets of explosives in the building, and probably more. If the construction plans I'd seen were anything to go by, this wasn't going to bring the whole thing down but… I didn't have time to even think about that. The building was under fucking siege.

But what the hell was I supposed to do? I couldn't take the chopper any closer because one thing that was definitely going to put terrorists on alert was a big, whirring, in your face fucking ShinRa helicopter. I'd left my bike at 7th Heaven and I could hardly take Tseng's bike, he'd kill me. Or make me pay thousands in damage. Judging by the radio transmission I'd picked up, I had about twenty minutes to get in there, disable the bombs and get the fuck out again.

Oh, screw it; I was taking Tseng's bike. I'm sure he could forgive me a few thousands in damages if I was possibly about to save ShinRa billions. I brought the chopper down carefully, despite the fact I was shaking slightly with anticipation. It might seem a little childish of me, but needless to say, I was excited. I lived off danger, and half the time, it seemed danger thrived off of me. Pulling out my PHS, I opened the back and stuck in the little wireless chip that charged off the tracker system so I could pick up the radar signal from my handset, and switched the system to run solo rather than off the choppers battery, before shutting down the engines.

In a rush and bouncing off the walls with impatience, it took me all of five minutes to get the motorbike back out of the chopper, where it normally would have taken me ten or fifteen. With the helicopter secured properly, I restarted the bike, put on my mobile headset and pulled down my goggles. I dialled Tseng's cell from my pocket as I took off towards the construction site without looking back even once.

"Reno?" Came the calm voice on the other end of the line as the dirt churned up on either side of the bike like waves off the back of boat. "I trust everything is okay-"

"Where are ya? When will you be back?"

"Close. Possibly forty minutes time. Reno, what's wrong-"

Wow, I'd cut that pretty fucking fine, hadn't I? I thought he was going to say days, or at least hours, not minutes. I'm an idiot.

"How 'bout from Midgar?" I snapped quickly, cutting him off again. I lifted a hand off the handle to readjust my headset and almost lost control of the massive bike underneath me. I swerved, cursing loudly and doubling my speed.

"An hour at least, if not more. We're coming from the other direction. Reno, where are you?"

"There's a possible – and don take possible lightly here – Code 8, Tseng. Can't ya be any quicker?"

I actually heard him curse. A Code 8 was a terrorist threat, and I think he gathered from the tone of my voice that I meant a severe one. We hadn't actually had to use that phrase since the days of Avalanche, because any leftover radicals we had trying to douse ShinRa's ashes now were pretty damn easy to put out themselves. And to think, if I hadn't taken the damn initiative to investigate the president's private stuff, we wouldn't even have known. "We can try. Where? At the lodge?" He asked, clearly trying to keep his voice calm although I could hear the sharp intakes of breath he was taking even over the motorbikes roaring engine. "What level?"

"No. I think I can deal with it alone. I need ya ta call Valentine, though – I know ya got his number," I said through gritted teeth, trying to keep the dust in the air from invading my mouth, as I slowed the bike down to move in more stealthily. "And find out if the lodge is safe. And put the boss on."

"You're not with Vincent? Where are you, Reno?"

"No, he's still in the lodge. I'm at the construction site." I hissed, pretty much accepting now that this threat had totally blown my cover for everything. "Long story. Will explain later. Put the fucking boss on."

"Don't speak to me like-"

"Do it, Tseng! Fer fucks sake, I've got like fifteen minutes left to save this fucking expensive investment of Rufus', that none of ya would even fuckin tell me was there! Ya got some fuckin explaining ta do after I drag yer sorry asses out of this mess."

"Hello to you too, Reno." Came the slightly amused voice from the other end.

Ah, fuck. He'd already put the President on. Bastard probably waited until he heard me yelling down the phone to pass it over just to get me in more trouble than I was undoubtedly already. For what? Lets see… breaking in to both Rufus and Tseng's private files, leaving Vincent alone in the lodge while I went to Edge to get completely smashed, giving away two of our biggest secrets and… stealing Tseng's motorbike. Yeah, I was in trouble. I really didn't need this…

But I was in a very, very testy mood. I had eight bombs to diffuse in oh, what, ten fucking minutes now? Fan-fucking-tastic. I skidded to a stop, almost losing control and probably burning the bottom of my boot off in the gravel, but I hardly had the time to think about that. Perhaps if Tseng and Rufus hadn't been such utter bastards lately and kept me in the dark about every little thing, I wouldn't be so strapped for time.

Yeah, I was fucking pissed.

"Don 'hello to you too' me, boss," I hissed, losing my temper towards him in a way I don't ever remember doing before, except I felt really fucking justified right now. Even if I had just gone naught to pissed off in 2.0 seconds. "What's all this shit about the ShinRa tower? Don' even try and pretend ya don' know what I'm talkin bout cause I'm standing right in front of it the very fuckin second, and oh, did I forget to mention? It's smothered in heavy duty explosives!"

"Calm down, Reno. Have you been drinking?"

"No, I have not been fucking drinking!" I snorted, sighing into my hand as I massaged my temples. "Sorry, sir. I'm really fuckin stressed… look, yer all safe right?"

The other end of the line was silent for a moment as I wheeled the Daytona backwards, lining it up like a rifle with the loose scaffold beam in front of me. Oh yeah, this little stunt was probably going to wreck the bike irreparably, not to mention draw everyone's attention to me but I couldn't think of any quicker way to get inside. I was doing it for the rest of the Turks anyway, and Rufus. And hey, I've said it before, but I'd still give my life for this job, because this job was my life. I have my work and the people I work with, my friends – no, my family, the only family I'd ever have - and I haven't got much else.

"…We're all safe, Reno." Rufus said quietly, and I could almost picture the small, regretful smile he'd have on his face as he spoke, because I'd seen it a million times before. It was one of the real signs he was actually growing older, despite the jokes I'd make about him and falling asleep in his chair and stuff. The guy was pretty much still a kid. Fuck, he was 24. Younger than me. It's just that I knew him well enough to know he was changing, really changing and I think he was finding his stone cold, emotionless resolve slowly melting since the five of us had been living together in the lodge, with just ourselves and each other for company. I think it scared him too, because for as long as I've known him he's always been an arrogant, self-assured bastard and now he has these random power binges, like when he'd grabbed hold of my hair in the kitchen, almost like he's trying to convince himself that's still all he cares about.

For fucks sake, I had bombs to defuse. I could save the deep, philosophical thoughts for some less dangerous time. "Good. Get back ta the lodge, I should be able ta clear this up pretty fast. Ya precious investment is safe in my hands, sir!" I was aware I was coming off more confident than I felt, but sometimes it's better to try and be more than you can and die trying than to run away with your tail between your legs. Those were the closest moments I'd ever get to being a hero, I guess, so I took whatever I could. "Gotta get a move on, bossman, so I'm out. Make sure Tseng calls Valentine."

I hung up before anyone would get another chance to talk with me and turned my eyes to the task ahead, revving the powerful 4000 engine hard before I shot off up the scaffold into the towering reinforced structure.

Yep, I was gonna be a hero, or die trying, just this once. For my family.

For the brief seconds I was flying over the gaping gap between the loose scaffold I'd driven up and the building in front of me, I felt alive. I felt truly alive, veins pulsing with adrenalin, head throbbing with anticipation and there was no fear in that moment about falling or failing and being blown apart until there was nothing left of me but bloody pieces. There was just me, and the air, and that motorbike and all the time in the world. I glanced at the ground 30-odd feet below me and I could have laughed. This is what I fucking love about my job. Feeling so alive in a way nothing else could ever match. Because you feel the most alive when you're doing things that might kill you, it's just a fact of life. And being a Turk is more than a matter of what might kill you, it's dealing with what will kill you if you're not fast enough, not fearless enough, not ready. And it's all worth it. I think I realized in that moment that no matter how much anyone else screwed me over, or pissed me off, or drove me to the brink of insanity I would never stop doing what I do because after feeling that rush, I doubt I'd ever be content doing something else. And if you can't be content with your own life, what's the fucking point of living?

The problem is, when it comes down to it, a few brief seconds is only that – seconds. And so seconds later I was throwing my arm up in front of my face and shielding my eyes as the motorbike exploded through the glass window in front of me, shattering it like a cannonball, splinters flying every which way and cutting my clothing and my arm and my cheek. The front wheel of the bike hit a wall and the whole thing span, sending me flying off to the right and skidding down the concrete floor. And all I could do was laugh, because I'd just pulled the most ridiculous stunt and I was still alive.

Honestly I hadn't tried anything that risky in years. When you've worked closely with the same group of people for the better part of your life, you think and act like a team even without discussing it. We'd move as one, stealthy, quick, organized and successful. There'd be no death-defying falls from cliffs or scaling buildings as long as there was a safer way to do it, despite what people thought about Turks. With just four of us left, Tseng hardly wanted to risk losing anyone. Of course, I had my moments, where I'd break our unspoken conduct and I would get scolded like a child sometimes but nothing as crazy driving a heavy motorbike up a loose, spindly piece of scaffolding that was – by chance – balancing over a pile of debris in just the right position to send me flying through a window into a narrow hallway four floors up an unstable sky scraper. Of course, I couldn't have known the hallway would be that damn narrow and that I'd smash into the wall but it's hardly like I was expecting to go plunging into a massive assembly hall filled with soft mattresses. I lay on the floor laughing, as I realized just how many things could have fucked up just then. There was no saying that scaffold wasn't just going to slide or collapse under the weight of the bike, or that I'd make the gap, or that the glass wasn't bullet-proof – I have no idea why it wasn't reinforced but I was grateful – but none of that had happened. I felt slightly crazed as the rush faded, lying slumped on the floor where the bike had catapulted me and still laughing. Lucky Strife, I'm sure he gets to do stuff that crazy all the fucking time. No wonder he does it.

The bleep of the tracker on my PHS brought me back to reality. I'd probably been lying on the ground now for all of a minute but that was still a minute less to stop these damn bombs going off. I frowned, sitting up with a slight hiss of pain – being slammed against a concrete floor will do that to your back – and looking around for something remotely bomb-like. There was nothing obvious I could see but I could hear the faint bleeping of a transmitter that wasn't coming from my PHS. I turned back to the tracker, fiddling with it and, zooming in on my position so it could pick up the other transmitter. It was almost right on top of me, but that meant I was sitting on it or it was…

…On the fucking ceiling. Clever fucks. At least I knew I was dealing with someone who knew what they were doing, or at least someone very smart, because the bomb was placed in the crease where the wall touched the ceiling, which would enhance the effect the resulting explosion would have on the whole structure. They were looking to bring the building down.

My main problem was that the ceilings were damn high. The idea that whoever was planting the bombs was either a good 7-foot tall, or carrying around a ladder made me snort with laughter, but that wasn't going to help me rip the damn thing down.

After a brief moments thought, I wheeled Tseng's bike over to the bomb, trying not to look at any damage I'd caused and still ignoring the cuts on my face and arms. I stood it upright on it's stand and slowly climbed up onto the seat so I was standing on the bike. It wobbled beneath me and I could see this ending badly, but I had to get the bomb down.

Luckily for me, it tore down pretty easily once I'd gotten a grip on it. Unluckily, I lost my balance as I ripped it down, falling backwards and landing ungracefully on the concrete again. Didn't matter though, because I had the damn thing and I just might be able to save the stupid tower after all if I could figure out what kind of explosives they were. With a groan, I shifted until I was sitting cross-legged on the floor and placed the small bomb on my lap. It really was out-of-date technology, and I'd dismantled it in about forty-five seconds.

I broke open one of the shells and sniffed it, and then grinned like a maniac. I hadn't expected them to use Torpex but it really did make my life easier right now… although there was every possibility that I'd be dead already if they'd used something more advanced because Torpex was only a secondary explosive and wasn't impact sensitive. It's normally only used in critical applications, like submarine torpedoes, never in minor bombs like this but that's not to say I wasn't grateful. It's a composite of composition B, trinitrotoluene – that's TNT to you people – and powdered aluminium and that meant I could disengage it with a simple charge from my EMR, which I stood up and did immediately. The powder sparked and died quicker that it would have killed me if it had blown.

The bad news was, that was only one of god knows how many separate bombs and whilst I could possibly disengage some of them now I'd picked up the signal from their transmitter, finding and getting to all of them in the remaining seven minutes I had before mysterious terrorist 'Johnson' rendezvoused with the man I was assuming was the boss. And I didn't even know if the bombs would blow before or after that time. I could only assume the two things would coincide. Luckily, composition B contains cyclonite, which requires a detonator. Seemed like I had two options – diffuse the remaining five bombs on the lower levels and accept that the top of the building was going to be blown to pieces, or go after the terrorists and hope I could stop the detonation. Like I said, a Turk has to be the best of the best, and I was not let that building go down. 'There was nothing else I could do' wouldn't cut it. I checked the PHS again and saw the closer of the two life forms on the tracker was only two floors above me and heading in my direction. Second option it was, then. I just had to pray said terrorist had the detonator.

I stowed the tracker and my EMR and got back on the bike. The damage looked minor, anyway, besides a massive dent in the front panel. The engine still roared to life, revved like an angel and spun the wheels and that was good enough for me. I sped off down the hallway towards the signal.

If you've never driven a motorbike up a concrete staircase before, let me tell you, it's not fun. You've got to drive at full speed, hold on tight and prepare for a bumpy fucking ride… but that's what I did. Faster than walking, and time really wasn't on my side right now. I bumped and skidded and revved my way up four separate staircases and three narrow landings until I was on the floor the signal had indicated. I hardly had to look closely to find what I was hoping for. A man, clad in black and carrying a hoard of empty bags was walking towards me slowly with his head down. Seemed a little bizarre for a man walking through an unsteady building filled with bombs, but he was as real as the gloves on my hands. I revved my engines and snarled cruelly, smirking at him as he looked up. He stopped in his tracks and stared for a moment, and when I didn't make any attempt to move, looked around himself, before turning to run.

I didn't blame him – if I was him, and I'd just spotted a crazy red-head on a motorbike six floors up a construction site, growling like a predator at me, I'd run too. I cackled anyway and sped after him. No man can outrun a Daytona 4000, even one that's recently been driven into a wall.

Except he ducked through a doorway to the side I couldn't get through on the bike. I hit the brake, spinning the thing 90 degrees and seconds later I was pouncing off the handlebars at him like a wild cat, catching the back of his jacket and flinging him across the room into the wall as I hit the floor. I rolled into a crouch and locked onto him, drawing my pistol instantly. I wasn't taking any chances with this guy.

The man scrambled to get up but I'm known for my speed – by the time he was on his feet, I had him pressed against the wall and I was tearing off the scarf around his face. Fierce green eyes watched me as he struggled, and suddenly he was reaching for a weapon I hadn't spotted yet.

I swear, life would be easier if everyone just stuck to swords. I really didn't need to get shot right that moment but he was fast – too fast for my liking, almost as quick as me. He'd shot me in my left shoulder, which hardly rendered me incapable but it did knock me back though and I clenched my teeth, hissing in pain, clutching the wound as I tripped over a dust sheet. I was pretty pissed off about how many times I'd wound up on my ass on the floor already today, particularly because it wasn't exactly in great shape after last night –

Okay, I had to stop there. I was working right now. I was not going to think about last night again.

'Simmons? Where ya at?'

The same female voice from earlier crackled over his transceiver. His foot landed heavily on my chest where I lay, pinning me down and he pulled the transceiver from his belt and lifted it to his mouth.

"Minor inconvenience Meryl," He said, smirking at me as he spoke. "I'll be out in a minute."

'Ya better be! We need that detonator, Simmons! I'm giving ya five minutes then I'm coming in after ya!'

His smirk deepened and he mimicked her words at me and rolled his eyes as I glared back at him, struggling under his hold and wondering where he was hiding the detonator since apparently he was carrying it.

"I will be, Johnson, hold your horses. I'll be out in three."

'Okay. Out.'

I was looking over his body and at the bags he was carrying, trying to work out how big a detonator he'd need for that many secondary explosives. For all I knew it was a button on his watch or a dial code in his transceiver. I saw him clipping it back to his belt and looked up at him sharply to find him staring at me curiously.

"Who are you supposed to be then?" I said smugly, if only to let him know I wasn't afraid of him despite the fact he was standing on my chest and I was bleeding profusely out of one shoulder already.

"Where's that coming from?" he muttered, ignoring me completely and stooping down to pull my PHS out of my pocket. I was still clutching my shoulder, so I just let him. As long as he was the one with the detonator, I had all the time in the world to sort this out. Oh, how the tables turn…

He examined the bleeping PHS, turning it in his hands and still ignoring me like he hadn't even noticed he was standing on my chest. "Huh. A ShinRa tracking system… You're not here by accident then."

He looked at me again with those fierce green eyes, which may well have been hazel once if I was right and they were full of mako. "Funny story actually, I am." I snorted, smirking up at him despite the position I was in. Part of the fun of this job was taunting the enemy. "Was having a nice day to myself, then all of a sudden there's this voice coming out of the stereo and I'm thinking 'this is one terrible radio show'…"

"Shut up." He snapped, lifting his foot off me briefly and kicking my chin. As his boot pressed down on my chest again I stared at him fiercely. "Ouch, you bastard."

One of his eyebrows shot up, questioning my less than intimidated response. "You're… a Turk?" The question was calm, but he made no effort to hide the disbelief in his voice.

"Yes," I said sharply, and he frowned. "I am," I stressed, feeling slightly insulted that he'd even question it. "And I'm fucking good at what I do."

I know it was childish of me to rise up to his insult like that but I never said I wasn't immature.

"I hardly doubted that." He shrugged, chucking the PHS to the ground carelessly. I noticed he was really well-spoken, almost the way Rufus sounded, although perhaps a little more human than that. I made sure to freeze an image of him in my mind in case Tseng made me write a damn report – green eyes, possibly mako enhanced, same height and build as me, and neat, short sandy hair. Strong jawline. Very handsome, nice lips and… fuck, obviously I was losing more blood than I'd noticed. I was delirious. I cringe and writhed under him. Okay, I'd been lying there too long – it was time to show him just how good a Turk I really was.

I've said before about using any method we see fit to get the job done. So I did. I kneed him hard in the crotch, pulling my leg forwards and then kicking back again, sending him backwards into the wall behind him for the second time in five minutes. Flipping to my feet, I snatched him up again by the ankle and pounded him back into the concrete, because honestly, I was bored of it happening to me now. Really fucking bored. Then, I straddled his back and held him down with just my weight, twisting his arms underneath me.

"I recall askin ya who ya are a few minutes ago. Let me tell ya a little something." I growled, pummelling my fist into the nape of his neck and holding it there. I leant down to his ear and snarled. "I don' like being ignored."

I heard him snort into the concrete. "You're really a Turk? You sound too dirty to be with ShinRa."

"Ya got a problem with my accent?" I sneered, pressing my fist down harder.

"No. You can't help where you were born." He replied, trying to turn his head a little more and look at me. I faltered slightly, because that sounded a little too compassionate to be a terrorist. Then again, he sounded a little more posh than most of the terrorists we'd dealt with in the past.

Damn bastard took advantage of the fact he'd shocked me slightly and slid one of his arms free – I'd even go as far as to say he planned it – but I ground the heel of my boots into his wrist before he could reach for anything to use as a weapon.

"I have four questions." I said, ignoring the last thing he said and moving my hand into his short hair so I could yank his head around. It was almost painful watching him try to do it himself. He peered up at me out of one green eye and narrowed his brows.

"And they are?"

I was honestly surprised, again, that he seemed so unconcerned that I pinning him to the ground, demanding answers and pummelling his neck. But I was a quick learner, and I was not going to let him stun me again.

"Who are ya, who do ya work for…" I said slowly, forcing eye contact. He just lay there, unstruggling. "…why are ya tryin ta blow this place up… and where are ya hiding the detonator?"

Before he got a chance to answer any of my questions his transceiver crackled again.

'Andrew, where are ya? It's been five minutes!'

I snorted and reached down towards his belt for it. "Three questions then, Andrew Simmons."

"Give me the transceiver." He said calmly as I unclipped it.

"Why in hell would I do that?" I asked, rolling my eyes, safe in the knowledge he'd only call for back up.

"If I don't answer her, she'll come looking for me and you'll be out numbered."

This time I really did laugh, slapping him casually on the back and staring him in the eye with a smirk as I threw the transceiver across the room. "Ya say that like a bad thing. Answer the fuckin questions, big shot."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." He said smugly, and I felt him writhe underneath me slightly for the first time. I growled in frustration and picked up my gun, which he'd knocked out of my hand when he shot me. Cocking it again, I pressed it against the back of his head.

"Well, I asked nicely once… ya'd think after 25 years I'd have learnt that gets ya nowhere in life, huh? Now I'm gonna ask one more time. Answer the questions, Andy."

He shook his head best he could, and I narrowed my eyes at him as he writhed a bit more; seems like pretty boy was getting nervous now he had a gun pointing at the back of his skull. That's the way it should be.

Then I caught sight of something glinting around his neck. I dragged the gun down his neck and nudged away the collar of his jacket with it to find a chain there. With my right hand, the left still pressing a gun against his neck, which was feeling pretty weak now from the blood loss, I pulled on the chain and suddenly he tensed beneath me. "Oh?" I asked, although it wasn't really a question, I was just noting his reaction. His strange reaction. "What's this then? Something precious ta you?"

"Let go of it." Simmons hissed, his voice a lot darker and more savage suddenly. The change almost made me jump. He'd sounded so calm and unwavered before.

"Lemme think about that." I smirked, smacking the butt of my gun into the back of his skull, almost hard enough to knock him out. "No. Not until ya tell me what I need ta know."

He was silent for a moment and I tightened my grip on both the necklace and my gun in case he was planning something suddenly. "The…" he said slowly, almost nervously. "…detonator is in the bag under your left leg. It's on a timer. If I don't detonate it in the next five minutes it's going to trigger automatically."

He had my attention. I let go of the necklace, knowing this information, true or not was presently more important than taunting him about family heirlooms or whatever that necklace was. The other answers could wait too.

Tugging the bag out from under my leg, I found he actually wasn't calling my bluff. I hadn't actually doubted him because if I were him, I'd be worried about getting blown up myself.

The detonator was a switchboard, simple but slow to deactivate. Hopefully with help from the man trapped beneath me, I could do it quicker but normally it was Rude who dealt with detonator, because he was our resident bomb expert. There were sixteen switches but I had no idea which ones were active. I could simply deactivate all of them but it might take too long. "Oi, Simmons." I sneered, kicking the back of his head lightly. "Which switches do I need ta dismantle?" I turned the detonator over removing the back to examine the wires inside.

"That wasn't one of the questions."

"Don' get sarcastic with me, fucker. We're gonna get blown up here." I snapped, kicking him again.

"So?"

"Ya don' care? Fuck. Okay, so I'm gonna get blown up here, and destroying the building is one thing… but killing a Turk? Whoever ya work for will be in real deep shit then, buddy. My comrades won't stop 'til their heads are bleeding on our mantle."

I was exaggerating a little but I was slightly panicked. I diffused the first switch, still completely unaware if I'd managed anything in doing that, and moved straight onto the second, still pressing my foot into the back of Simmons' head. I'd have to try something else to get him to talk.

"So that necklace huh? Whys it so special that ya'd tell me bout the detonator? 'Cause obviously ya don' care bout being blown up." He tensed again. So the enemy had a weak spot. I smirked down at my work and set it down on his back. "Maybe I'll take it off ya hands? Don' worry, it'll be cared for real good after I kill ya."

As I spoke, I grabbed the chain again and pulled on it, pretending I was trying to break it. He struggled underneath me again and I laughed. "Sounds like a good idea ta me!"

"Wait!" He yelped, thrashing more and almost knocking me off his back. "The final switch on the board is a master switch. Diffuse that and all the bombs deactivate."

"Is that right? I don' believe ya." I said, believing him in the absolute. This necklace must have been fucking precious to him to get that kind of reaction out of him. "So is this a family heirloom? Or from a lover?" I teased, smirking as I started to lift it over his head. "Meryl wasn't it? Is she ya lover, Andy?"

"No," He yelled, the best he could pressed against the concrete. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to shake his head. "Believe me, the master switch…"

"Okay, okay…" I laughed, in full belief that I'd hit the nail on the head. It seemed a little extreme to panic that hard over a gift, though. I let go of the chain again and worked on diffusing the last switch, partly because if he hadn't lied about the bombs going off in five, we were practically out of time.

As I desecrated the last wire, Simmons bucked underneath me and threw me off of him, rolling out the way. I landed awkwardly on my shoulder and cried out loudly, dropping my gun again so I could grip it, try and squeeze the pain away. I was aware of the sound of a gun being cocked behind me and shuffled up onto my knees, jumping to my feet in one awkward, ungraceful movement and spinning to face Simmons.

"Ya gonna shoot me, Andy? I wouldn't do that if I were in yer position."

"What do you mean?" He said darkly, free hand fondling the necklace that still hung around his neck. Most of it was still hidden under his top.

"If ya kill me, ya destroy all the evidence!"

"What?"

I smirked. He had no idea what I was rambling about. I had no idea what I was rambling about either, but it was buying me time. "Evidence of what?" he asked again, staring at me, his eyes as demanding as his voice. "What evidence, Turk?"

"The evidence that you…" I said slowly, sliding my hand around to the back of my belt and closing my fingers around the handle of my mag-rod, "helped me diffuse the detonator, perhaps?"

His eyes widened slightly, as I used his shock against him the same way he'd done to me earlier, taking my millisecond advantage to whip out the EMR and blast him with a bolt of electricity. He tried to dodge it, ducking down but the nearest metal object was the handgun he was holding and sparks shot through it and right up his arm. "Fuck!" He cursed, glaring wildly at me from where he'd fallen again to the floor and sliding himself further away from me.

"Yer not jus gonna retreat are ya? Scaredy-cat!" I smirked, feeling safe now that the bombs were permanently disengaged.

"No." He said coldly, raising his gun at me again and pulling the trigger, his arm still shaking from the shock. I ducked much like he had and rolled out the way, the bullet firing off down the room, and grabbed my own pistol quick enough to fire as I landed on my feet. He howled in pain as the bullet struck him in the chest and shot again blindly.

This time I wasn't fast enough. I said before, I wish people would stick to sword-fighting. I was a little out of practice at dodging bullets and he got me right in the side as I ducked again.

When I next found my feet, perhaps a minute later, he was writhing around and trying to pull the bullet out of his chest with his bare hands. I winced in pain and stood over him, crushing the hand he was trying to pull the bullet out with under my foot and considering whether to give him another few wounds in other not quite lethal places, so he'd bleed to death slowly and suffer. Then I remembered what he'd said when I'd first pinned him down, about not being able to help where you're born. It was pretty hard to find people that unjudgemental back in the Slums… and even now. He seemed like the kind of guy I would have gotten along with, too, given a chance. I shrugged awkwardly to myself and looked down at him, to find his green eyes staring back. I don't know what was wrong with me but I decided he didn't deserve to suffer and just blew his brains out instead.

He was still a terrorist, after all.

'Andrew, what happened? The bombs haven't blown! Are ya alright?'

I picked up the transceiver and sighed through the pain in my shoulder and my side. Holding down the button, I took a deep breath, more for the pain than anything else. "Yer comrade is dead. Yer attack has been intercepted, and soon, you will be destroyed," I said darkly. "Better start running."

I let go of the button and turned the transceiver over in my hand. A perfect thing to do after a statement like that would be to drop the damn thing to the ground and crush it with my foot but there was every possibility Tseng would want it for something so with a sigh, I clipped it to my own belt. What I said wasn't entirely necessary but I was hoping it would give me a danger-free route out of the building, at least.

I limped over to where the PHS lay on the floor and stooped with an unexpected cry of pain to pick it up. I had to steady myself with a hand against the floor to keep from collapsing and I sighed again. I sighed far too often lately. Made me feel I was getting old too, like Rufus.

My headset had broken when I'd been thrown from the motorbike as I'd burst into the building so I was grateful the PHS still worked. I was about to speed dial Tseng when I stopped, finger hovering over the buttons and thought for a moment. I felt the urge to call Vincent suddenly, to see if the lodge was alright, perhaps because through all the stress of that morning it had finally occurred to me that it was only yesterday that I'd declared us friends. And he'd done the same... Perhaps he was worried about me.

Or perhaps not, I told myself, remembering our conversation at breakfast. I didn't have his cell number anyway and I doubted he'd pick up the phone in the lodge if it rang. I pressed the speed dial for Tseng and brought the PHS to my ear.

"Reno."

The calm, firm voice of my superior swept away some of the anger I hardly realized I was holding on to. I don't know what made me angry. Maybe Andrew Simmons. Maybe this whole terrorist thing, or getting shot, or Cloud this morning.

Or perhaps everything. But I still felt slightly better, certain about something just hearing the voice of someone I knew well. Certain about myself and my job or something.

"Sir." I replied quietly, not as brightly as I felt. Didn't fancy let the boss know I was happy to be working, he'd find a way to use it against me.

"We're almost at the lodge now. Ten minutes maximum." I nodded silently, although I knew he couldn't hear me. "What's your status?"

"Prevented the attack and taken down one of the terrorists, although he wouldn't tell me who he worked fer…" Or rather, I forgot to find out. Perhaps I should have kept him alive a little longer.

"Made him suffer, I assume." Tseng said smugly. I gulped slightly and shook my head as I prepared myself to lie to him; I had to or he'd question how well I was feeling.

"Ya know me too well, sir." I bullshitted, wondering what really had changed. Not that I had a problem lieing to Tseng, but my words should have been the truth. I changed the subject. "Did ya call Valentine?"

"I did, and had him check the perimeter for danger. The lodge is safe." Tseng replied calmly. "He said you were very strict on the subject of leaving him alone. Rufus isn't happy that you did, but he'll drop it at my word. I'm glad Vincent earned your trust, Reno. I know it can be difficult for you."

Besides wondering what the hell Vincent meant when he told Tseng I was strict on him, I questioned Tseng's last statement silently. I didn't really want to think about why I'd come to trust Vincent so quickly, but I had, and Tseng had a good point. I was usually a lot more wary of people than I had been. "Yeah, well, whatever. You trust 'im, so obviously I got good reason to." I dismissed the subject quickly, moving onto the matter at hand. "I got more work ta do, cause there's at least two more fuckers out there ta deal with today. Won't be back for a while."

"No," Tseng said firmly.

"No?" I repeated in confusion. "I know they're there Tseng, I heard them and I've got an infra-red visual."

"No, I mean I want you to return immediately, Reno. You've done enough."

By the tone of his voice, I realized immediately that he didn't mean I'd done too much and should take a break, so to speak, but rather that I'd fucked so royally that I had to drag my sorry, sore ass home for the whipping of my life. He wasn't wrong, and I knew not to argue. That didn't mean I wasn't going to.

"Why the hell don' ya want me to neutralize the threat? I can take them, Tseng. There's only two. Shouldn't take long with the tracker, and I might even find out what they're trying at, rigging this place with explosives-"

"Get back here now, Reno." Tseng cut me off, gritting his teeth slightly and taking a deep breath.

"Fine. Okay. I'm on my way." I scowled, switching off the PHS. I clipped it to my belt beside Simmons' transceiver and glanced at his body. Blood leaked out from the exit wound in his skull across the floor, and his crushed hand was tensed at his side even now he was dead. I frowned, approaching the body and crouching beside it. Simmons' couldn't have been much older than me by the look of him. His green eyes were still wide open from the shock of the bullet impacting with his skull. Tentatively I reached out and closed his eyes, wondering how a guy like him got involved in terrorism. It wasn't good of me to think about it, but I was having a pretty rubbish day and it just bothered me slightly. I could have just as easily gotten into terrorism as I did into ShinRa back when I was young. Probably easier, and I almost did. That could have been me.

On the brink of refusing to care anymore, I caught another glance of the necklace he had on and decided without hesitation to take it. Unhooking it from around his neck, I didn't even glance at it properly before I'd stuffed it into my pocket and left the room without looking back. I didn't like it when things like that bothered me. It was unnerving.

If you've never noticed, sometimes when you try not to think about something, it's the only thing you can think about at all. As I wheeled Tseng's bike down the staircase and looked for a way out that was a little less dangerous than my way in, especially since I was really starting to feel the effect of the blood loss from my bullet wounds, I couldn't get Andrew Simmons out of my mind. Not properly, at least. Not even when I got out of the building, not even as I drove across the stark land towards where the chopper was, not even properly as I noticed that the chopper wasn't where it should have been. In fact, as I started to see spots and the bike fell away beneath me, I was thinking that somehow it was his fault. But then, for no comprehensible reason, as I hit the solid, dirty ground beneath me, my last thoughts were of Cloud.