A/N-Thank you all for being patient for this chapter. My life has been a big rubber-band-ball of crazy lately, and I had to put something off for my own sanity. I will be writing more often in the near future, so stay tuned! (And keep reading )

Reno didn't take a long shower on purpose, but when he came back into the main room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that Yazoo had curled up on top of his bed and was sleeping lightly.

Dammit, he'd wanted to get back at the clone for distracting him with his bare chest...

He stood next to Yazoo's bed, arms crossed. He hadn't changed to sleep--or gone under the covers. He leaned down and prodded Yazoo's shoulder gently.

"Hey, you can't sleep like that..." He said quietly. Yazoo shifted, but didn't wake up. "Hey, Yazoo, wake up." Yazoo opened one eye a crack to glare tiredly at the redhead.

"I thought... you told me I could go to sleep." Half-mumbled into the pillow, it didn't quite sound that intelligible. For a born-and-bred killing machine, Yazoo was doing a very good job at being cute and sleepy.

"You've still got your boots on." Reno chuckled. When Yazoo merely 'hmm'ed into the pillow, the Turk sighed and moved down to Yazoo's feet.

The clone started a little as Reno unzipped his boot and slid it off his foot. He looked up over his shoulder, but didn't get up from his horizontal position. At that moment, he realized that Reno was mostly naked...

A blush bloomed on the clone's cheeks.

"I've slept like this before, it's not big deal." He said, turning his face away from Reno to hide the colour.

"Well, there's no reason to." Reno slid the other boot off, trying hard not to focus too long on Yazoo's bare feet. "We don't have much with us, and even if we had to leave in a hurry--we only have to grab a bag each. You might as well be comfortable." That, and Reno was enjoying undressing Yazoo (even if it was only his boots at the moment), and he was sure that the clone was too. He thought he'd seen a blush of excitement there.

"I--I am..." Yazoo looked back up at Reno, a brief pause when their eyes met, "Comfortable."

Lying there, sprawled on the bed Yazoo truly did look tempting. The clone had found some extra clothes in the shelter--leather was always a very good choice. Much better than hospital gowns, for sure. Reno swallowed hard, but the moment only lasted just that--a moment--between them. He cleared his throat.

"Well, at least crawl under the blankets. These inns always get colder at night..." He ran his hand through his shower-damp hair, and turned towards his own bed to find his bag.

Yazoo sat for a moment, his toes curling around a ridge in the covers, then pulled them back to slide in between the sheets.

The Turk was getting to him. He closed his eyes and murmured a goodnight. He could feel even as soon as Reno clicked the lights off that sleep would be hard to find again.

"Miss. Finden said I'd still find you here." Admiral Zenith walked through the narrow door of the lab, removing his hat and tucking it under the crisply starched arm of his uniform. "It's a little late, isn't it gentlemen?"

Doctors Viting and Jonas both started from their workstations, but seemed to relax when they realized who it was.

"Ah Admiral, we were actually just discussing when we thought you'd come and visit us." Dr. Viting offered a hand to the commanding officer, who shook it with a broad grin.

"I have to make sure that my backing on the project was not in vain." A couple of lab assistants came from the back rooms carrying a couple of large trays. They expertly threaded their way past the conversation without spilling a drop. The Admiral watched them, his interest showing. "Have you made any new discoveries?"

"Well," Dr. Viting looked over at his colleague--they'd discussed this matter too, "There is very little we can do more with the samples we have recovered already. We are going to need a new set of results soon to further our investigation of the new genetics. However, with the time we have had, we've delved further into the speculative records in the database. What this lab was planning for the specimens--and what they extrapolated from their own results. It seems that in lower levels even, there may be more research that we currently do not have access to..."

"You want to be granted security access to the lower levels?" Admiral Zenith cut the doctor off before he could truly get to his point. Dr. Viting inclined his head, admitting that, though blunt, the Admiral had caught on.

"We believe Admiral," Dr. Jonas added, "That there may be samples from prior to the specimen's escape. As well as the original genetics--Jenova cells, that is."

Admiral Zenith tapped his lower lip in thought.

"And what do you hope to achieve with this?"

The two doctors exchanged glances.

"With what we've recovered already, Admiral," Dr. Viting said slowly. This was a controversial idea even within the reassuring safety of the lab, "And what we are lead ot believe may still be within Deepground, we are confident we could duplicate Professor Hojo's experiments."

The Admiral took a moment to realize what the Doctor was saying.

"You mean--you think you can create another Sephiroth clone?"

"If the lower levels contain what we think they do, yes Admiral we can."

"Well then Gentlemen." Admiral Zenith straightened, a look of determination in his eyes. "Go home and sleep--tomorrow you'll have clearance."

The Doctors were obviously trying not the grin too widely, shook the Admiral's hand in thanks before going to wrap up the last of their volatile experiments for overnight.

The Admiral watched for a moment before returning to the lab's door, a slight grin of his own on his lips. General Sephiroth had been the 'Perfect Soldier', but with one flaw. A conscience. That was what had driven him mad when he'd found out...

There would be precautions taken this time. And when one was created, more could follow.

An army of Perfect Soldiers.

The long lift ride gave the Admiral ample time to think of his future, bright and bloody.

Tseng was tired.

A grueling day at the corporation's headquarters had left him feeling bitter and unfulfilled. His small, yet tidy quarters were quite welcoming at this point.

He knew it wouldn't be long before he would be under investigation too--he knew that he'd given Reno enough clues to lay low for a while. Shinra Corp. did not need another research project. He knew that. The President knew that.

The People's Militia thought otherwise.

Tseng had been able to placate Rufus throughout the day. He trusted Reno probably more than he should (Rufus had said so), but the redheaded Turk had never let him down. The President had ordered the 'observation only' for the clone mere minutes before the takeover had been announced. Tseng had been pleased with the show of empathy, and had been grateful that they would be trying to understand their 'enemies' instead of blindly rushing forward with an attack.

Like the former President had.

Tseng loosened the tie around his collar, sitting down on his comfortable (white) sofa for a moment of uninterrupted relaxation.

But then Admiral Zenith had come in--with the board's endorsement, and had upset everything. Tseng had barely had enough time on an unmonitored line to call Reno. To call off his return.

The paperwork would start piling up. Observation reports on staff, misdemeanors, dismissals, investigations...

However, it was all explained as being in 'the company's best interest'. Tseng had to laugh at that a little.

The 'company's best interest' had changed over the last decade. All he was hearing about was METEOR and its effects. Little was said about the steps that had been taken by Shinra Corp. to rectify the outcome. More talk about how the People's Militia would be the one to prevent Shinra from performing such deeds again.

And yet, it seemed that they were well on their way to another calamity themselves.

They had reopened Deepground. Other than the 'skeleton staff' that Shinra had deployed to keep security tight on the volatile labs, the underground laboratories had been sealed off and deserted since Rufus had taken acquisition of the company. That had been one of the People's Militia's first moves. Re-staff the facility (headed by the two scientists who had filed the request for more tests none the less), and continue research on Jenova cells.

It was as if nothing had changed.

Tseng needed a drink. He padded his way to the small kitchen and poured a rather large glass of bourbon.

The President wouldn't stand for it if he didn't have to. He'd visited him right before he'd left for home--trying to reassure Rufus that the Militia would lose interest. Especially if the clones weren't found. He'd just have to trust him; Reno and Rude; and the public... They couldn't let something like METEOR happen again.

Rufus had just sat there, remaining distant, fingers steepled and hair mussed from nervous fingers constantly running through it.

"I worry not only for the company Tseng. I worry for the world." He had told his chief of staff. "She may not want to save us again."

The words had struck Tseng (though he didn't show it), and he finally realized the pressure Rufus felt. The obligation to repay the planet in kind.

Save her people--for saving her people from him.

Tseng had said goodnight, leaving a tired looking President to brood in an empty, dark office.

Another mouthful of bourbon started to burn the disquiet away--enough to think about sleep, at least. He set the glass on the counter, feeling his feet drag as he headed towards his bedroom.

Tseng could only hope that he and Rufus would come out of this sane. And alive.

Yazoo..

Yazoo jolted out of sleep to the voice in his head. Loz? No... his brother was sleeping soundly in the other room, dreaming of forests and motorcycles. Yazoo blinked his eyes wearily, bring a hand up to rub at them before looking over to the clock display.

It was too early to be awake... He shut his eyes and rolled over, wondering what had stirred him from sleep. Then, again;

Yazoo, you pretty boy. Don't try to lie and pretend you are sleeping.

Yazoo's heart beat faster in his chest and he sat straight up. His breath caught in his throat, and he had to force himself to think.

...Who are you? The skin on the back of his neck was prickling and sending shivers down his spine. His pulse pounded in his ears. He did not like this voice. Everything in his body said so.

Oh you silly child. You know who I am.

Yazoo sought desperately in his sleep-fogged brain for an answer. Who was this voice? Then his blood ran cold. Fear. An emotion Yazoo did not often feel.

M-m-mother