NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

Part Ten: Stormwarning

. o .

Cloud was the first to arrive in the mess hall that Reno recognized. The redhead had stuffed his hair underneath a cap at Captain Kale's request the night before, and Cloud sent him a puzzled glance as he wove his way towards the stove. Rolling his eyes, Reno sighed. He had intended to ignore the captain's request, but that headache of a girl was still on his mind, and the last thing Reno needed this morning was some searat recognizing him and picking a fight.

"Mornin', Strife." Smiling wickedly, the redhead poked at what Cloud could only guess was supposed to be a scrambled omelette. "Grub?"

"It's burnt."

"It's breakfast."

Cloud grumbled, but spooned some of the eggs onto his plate. "Are you absolutely certain that you weren't related to Aeris?"

Reno mumbled something that could have been no, but she taught me how to cook, once. That got Cloud's attention, but Reno ignored him. Some memories, Reno thought, deserve more than to be discussed over a breakfast line. Turning to the second mate who had returned inexplicably for seconds, Reno answered the sailor's question with a lopsided smile.

Cloud turned and found an empty spot on the closest bench, filing the redhead's quip with the thousands of others that coiled at the back of his mind. It figured, he mused. Two years later, disguised and half the world away from everything and everyone who the world expected me to be, or be with, everything's still so… tangled, isn't it? The image of an adolescent Aeris rapping an equally young Reno's knuckles away from a bowl of cookie batter flashed through his thoughts, unasked, and he held his head at the sudden jolt. That one didn't feel like mine, Cloud sighed. I know I sure as hell never witnessed that. Could be true, what he said, then… As he watched Chang enter the mess hall, Cloud dismissed his thoughts and moved towards the door. "Something wrong, Captain?"

Unclenching his fists, the captain swore. "I don't know what sort of shit that Turk stirred up during his time in Wutai, Ji—" Cutting his words short, he looked over at Cloud.

"Jin." Cloud nodded in confirmation. "Please, Kale. I don't want you to forget what you learned, but at least in general hearing…"

"Sure. Jin, we're being turned away from Junon. All ships with Wutai as their most recent port are, and it doesn't sound like that'll be changing anytime soon. From what little I got from the Constance when we passed Costa last night, it sounds like Junon and Wutai are bristling over a media war about a missing princess, whose gear and clothes washed up in Junon two mornings ago all torn up. She's supposed to be some sort of superhuman… I didn't catch much of that, but scientific jargon has never been my forte." At Cloud's dark look, the captain held out his hands slowly. "Don't even think of starting a brawl, Jin. Not on my ship. Definitely not before I've eaten breakfast." Wrinkling his nose, Kale grimaced. "It doesn't smell like breakfast, though – did the Turk burn the kitchen down?"

Cloud's tone was hopeful. "Can I beat the hell out of him if he did?"

Brushing past his subordinate, the captain hid his grin. "Tempting, but no. That said – cabin, ten-hundred hours, Jin. Bring the Turk, if the others haven't keelhauled him for trying to poison them."

. o .

Strolling along the deck after breakfast behind a tense Cloud Strife, Reno whistled a cheerful tune, grinning to himself as the other man muttered something that sounded suspiciously like will not beat him up on the ship, will not, will not, will not…

Reno, for one, didn't see the use in being all worried and uptight – sure, he was a little concerned about Yuffie; truth be told, he was more guilty than anything. Reno wasn't used to feeling guilty over anything, and he didn't like the feeling. But facts were facts – if she hadn't come back, or maybe if he hadn't been stumbling-down drunk in the first place, maybe she wouldn't be missing right now. Reno's hand traced the red sphere on his arm guard that was hers: Leviathan, her birthright… it hadn't reacted at all, so Yuffie couldn't be dead. Reno was sure of it. He didn't want to think about why he was so certain. He just was, and that was that.

In short, he reasoned, he was trapped on a boat and couldn't do anything productive about Yuffie's disappearance until the captain returned his watch. Ducking around the cabin door, catching it as Cloud let it swing back violently, Reno resisted the urge to strike back at the disgruntled brunet. Instead, the redhead settled himself onto a bench along the wall, grinning as the captain passed him his watch, which he had managed to repair after all. "Hey, thanks."

"Good to see you're still with us, Turk." Leaning against the windowsill, the captain nodded back. "I was worried the sailors would kill you for that breakfast you made."

"I was distracted, I guess. I warned you I wasn't a chef."

Was the Turk blushing? Cloud wasn't sure, but he didn't like where that thought led – distracted probably involved Yuffie, and while he had every bit of faith in the little ninja girl, he knew her well enough to have a healthy respect for her tendency for getting into situations way over her head. I can spare the Captain this discussion, Cloud decided. It doesn't mean I'm going to let this slide. "You warned me, Reno," Cloud spoke up. "It wasn't so bad, though. None of the rest of us can cook, really."

"None of the rest of us has the protection of your iron-coated stomach, either." Frowning, Kale Chang pulled a scrap of paper from one his jacket pockets. "That said, there are more important matters at hand, which is why I've called you two here. I contacted the harbour just west of Neo-Midgar, and we're able to dock there. I'm not sure how we're supposed to get our cargo from Midgar to Junon, or how I'm to pay fifteen sailors for the other half of their work when we can't deliver the cargo, though."

Reno looked up from fiddling with the rim of his watch. "I think I can help you with those things, Captain."

"You?" Cloud retorted. "Help? I think not. I mean, you -"

"Actually," Chang interrupted, "I'm interested to hear what you can do. We've a dearth of options at the moment, so whatever this stowaway is willing to do to pay for his passage, particularly if it can help me get the cargo to Junon on time, I'm not willing to dismiss as quickly as you do." Steepling his fingers together, the captain turned to Reno. "So. What do you propose, Turk?"

Slouching against the wall, Reno scratched at his stomach. "You could say I have friends in all the right places. While it's true that Reeve disbanded the Turks, I might be able to call in a favour from the ol' Boss-Man for you. As long as your crew is willing to work in construction for a few days—"

The captain nodded, catching on. "Provided I can keep two or three of my crew to travel to Junon with the cargo and myself, I doubt it will be a problem, Reno." Scratching at his chin, he continued. "Actually, we have a welder, and a couple of carpenters on the crew who have family in Neo-Midgar; they'll probably be happy to be home for the festival."

"I'll tell that to Reeve. From what it was like when I left, I think the city will take all the help it can get." Spinning the ring around the face of his watch, Reno smiled as the bevelled face split and slid back, revealing a tiny video screen.

As the redhead spoke into his watch, Cloud spoke up. "If possible, Captain, I would like to go to Junon with you and the shipment."

"If you're certain that's where you'd like to be, I can always use a good hand. Are you certain, Cloud? The Kisaragi girl traveled with you, and from a purely objective standpoint, it looks as if you are entrusting her immediate recovery to an ex-Turk." Drumming his fingers against the window ledge, Chang looked over at the brunet sailor.

Cloud looked over at Reno, who had entered into a playful argument with the people on the other side of the camera. Running a hand through his hair, Cloud tried a smile. "By traveling to Junon in disguise, I can probably learn about Yuffie and this trouble she's in – more than I ever could if I went as myself. Besides, Vincent Valentine was a Turk, once, and I trusted him with my life. Maybe – and this is just a maybe, Captain; don't look so damn shocked – Vincent might not be the only Turk worth giving a second chance to."

. o .

"…that is, if you wouldn't mind."

Tifa laughed warmly, and assured him that she didn't. She was glad for Reeve's sake that he was on the other side of a phone connection and not the other side of the room. The man could engineer a city, rally its people with surprising charisma, systematically betray the single largest corporation on the Planet, send his avatar-child to a heroic death, and yet she could almost see his blush.

"I don't mean to impose, Tifa, but I was hoping you might be able to accompany me to the Midwinter festivities – the Mayor is kind of expected to bring someone along, and I had hoped… I can't promise the speeches will keep you awake, but the food is always excellent, and there's dancing…"

She could feel his chuckle, a warm timbre that somehow managed to resonate through her, curving her own lips into a smile. "Dancing's fine, Reeve. I'm not much of a dancer, though. Two left feet."

Although he tried to cover it with a cough, she caught the grunt he made in surprise. "From the way you fight, one would never know it; you're a beautiful fighter, Tifa. I had thought you would know how to dance, what with footwork like yours."

His confession caught her in mid-motion as she rifled through her new closet, straightening everything into a semblance of order. Clutching the phone a little tighter, Tifa's reply was carefully curious. "Were you watching me, Reeve Vanh?"

She had to give him credit; he didn't pause. "Only sometimes - I have a life too, Miss Lockheart. And you are not answering my question."

Pulling the last of her clothes from her duffel bag, Tifa's fingers froze on a dress the hue of a summer sky, almost dropping the phone. Now, why in Shiva's name had she packed that? She thought she had thrown it away years ago, and she certainly didn't remember packing it. She had danced when she'd worn it last. Not well, but it had been their party: she'd been young, triumphant, and running on endorphins, so it hadn't mattered. Dropping the dress, she cursed. Memory was a cruel mistress. Tifa had bought the dress to match his eyes, thinking he'd be flattered. She should have known that he wouldn't even notice.

"Tifa - Tifa? Hello? Are you all right?" The playfulness had dropped out of Reeve's tone. Funny that even over the phone, he – this almost-stranger – could judge her moods, whereas… No. She wasn't going to go there.

"I'm just a little winded, Reeve." Steadying herself on the table's edge, she breathed deeply, only to catch a teasing glimpse of the blue gossamer. "You want to know why I don't know how to dance?" Ice cooled her tone, though she knew it wasn't his fault, not professional, charming Reeve. But in that moment, still exhausted from the drive and frightened by her friend's disappearance, she didn't care.

He wasn't fazed, as Cloud might have been. He'd been yelled at by the best. Tifa at her worst couldn't compare to Scarlet on an average day before her morning coffee or after she'd shared an elevator with Cornelius Palmer. "I do."

"I never had anyone to dance with," she snapped. "Are you surprised, Reeve? Tifa Lockheart, the bombshell, the knockout, the blasted Planet-saviour never had a guy ask her to a dance."

Careful, now… "I am asking you." As long as she didn't laugh, he'd be fine, he thought - he could take anything but her laughter.

She did laugh; light and lilting, and a corner of his heart broke until he realized her laughter was warm. "I'd like that, I think." After a moment – breathe, girl; breathe – Tifa stood. Picking up the beautiful dress that had taken up a third of her largest bag, she cradled it in her arms, walking across the room. She proceeded to toss the dress out the seventh story window of her brand-new apartment.

"…pick you up at seven that night, then?"

Leaning against the windowsill, Tifa's gaze chased the horizon; barely visible around the building frames and massive cranes, but it was still there. A refusal almost bubbled across her lips; reactionary – he'd hardly been the first to try – but she bit her lip. Maybe… "See you then."

Tifa walked across the small room, picking up her bag, keys, and a light jacket. It was high time she stopped chasing the intangible.

More importantly, she had a dress to buy.

. o .

It was late afternoon by the time that the Lady Murasaki docked along the northern ridge of the Eastern Continent; walking out on the ship's deck, Reno was relieved to see that Reeve had beat them to the harbour.

Leaning on the railing, Cloud sighed. "It'll be nice to be back on solid ground."

"Hey, that's right. Your Shinra file said you were prone to motion sickness. How do you hack a sailor's life, anyways?" At Cloud's expression, Reno backpedaled. "Laney told me about that, back in the day – girl reads everything she can get her hands on."

"Ginger pills," Cloud replied. "One of the others recommended them – other than that, I guess I just move around as much as I can to keep my mind off of it. I was never that bad, though; Yuffie had it way worse than me. Her skin went as green as that old shirt of hers, one time – I'd thought I'd seen everything, but she's got a way of constantly proving you wrong." Here he paused, looking anywhere but at the redhead beside him. "I guess I'm warning you on that count."

Surprised, Reno kept his tone neutral. "Warning acknowledged, Strife – I just wish you'd been a little earlier with it."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Reno."

The redhead's look was pure do I ever?, but he laughed, clapping the brunet on the shoulder. "I'll do my best. I'm no hero, Strife…"

"That much, I know. I don't need to warn you that if you hurt her at all…"

"Hey, hey. I'm trying to help the girl out – that's all there is to it –" At Cloud's doubtful look, Reno chuckled. "Well, that, and she took something of mine that I kinda want back."

Cloud snorted, brushing Reno's hand away. "Reno, you burnt our breakfast this morning 'cause you were thinking about her. So unless you're talking about Yuffie stealing whatever kind of heart you have, I call bull."

His fist snapping out to glance off of Cloud's shoulder, Reno shuffled back. "It's not like that, ya know." Noticing that Cloud hadn't grabbed any weapon or retaliated, he added, "…wait, you're not going to kill me?"

"If I did, Yuffie'd probably find me and kill me, so, no. She's not a kid – she can fall for whoever she wants to, though I gotta wonder at her taste a little. Well, that, and the Captain doesn't condone fighting on the ship."

"Scaredy-cat."

"Hey."

Ambling over, Chang sighed as he intercepted the two. "Turk, the mayor of Neo-Midgar's on the radio – he wants to talk to you. Jin, I could use your help with the cargo."

As Cloud headed for the stairs to go below deck to the cargo hold, he turned around. "Hey, Reno. Don't mention to anyone you saw me."

"Ya know, you're gonna have to owe me one for that, Strife." Grinning wickedly, Reno pushed off from the railing. "Hey – I kinda like the way that sounds. But, yeah, sure."

"Thanks, I think."

This time, it was Reno's turn to walk away chuckling.

. o .

After helping to move the first few boxes into the trucks that Reeve had brought along, Reno thanked the Captain with a lazy smile and moved to pounce on Elena, ruffling the younger woman's hair as she shouted in useless protest. As fate would have it, it was fortunate that Strife had asked him to stay quiet – although the ex-SOLDIER did his best to keep out of both Elena and Reeve's lines of sight, Reeve had always been the observant sort.

"Say, Reno?" Reeve asked.

"Yeah?"

"Isn't that sailor – that one over there – doesn't he look like –" Shaking his head, Reeve rubbed his eyes. "Never mind. I thought he resembled someone I used to know."

Watching Cloud help carry the last crate into the freight truck, Reno hid his grin. "Boss-man, you don't get enough sleep."

Reeve groaned. "You don't work for me anymore, Reno. You could drop the nickname."

"Nah." Laughing, Reno slung a companionate arm around the businessman's shoulders, grateful to be away from the sea and among friends. Reaching forward to ruffle Elena's hair again – the young woman had spun around in the driver's seat of the sedan as they stepped inside, and was clearly torn between tackling or beaming at Reno in return – the redhead turned to Reeve. "Now, what was this you were suggesting to me about going back to Wutai?"

. o .

…to be continued…

. o .

Sabe's Scribbles: …to be continued a lot sooner than a year from now. (I know, I keep saying that, but a combination between school, life, and story continuity kept me on my toes.) I can't thank everyone enough for reading (and hopefully enjoying) Believe thus far – thanks for passing on your words of encouragement. There were a few anonymous reviews this time around, and I just wanted to express how much they meant here, as I couldn't contact you any other way. Honestly – thank you.

Disclaimer: While the plotline is of my own devising, and any of the characters you don't recognize somehow escaped from the winding hallways of my imagination, Cloud, Reno, and crew (along with the world itself) are the proud possessions of the company known as Square.