Disclaimer: I don't own Reno, the Turks or the Sector 3 slums, only my OC.

Tiny A/N: Once again I want to explain something about the ages, so as to avoid confusion. Reno got his face markings and Cam got hurt because of it (because Ashe is an utter bastard) a year before this chapter, so the kids are 17 now, 16 when it happened. And when you see some mention of Rude's first impression of Reno, it will be retrospective. They first met right after the previous chapter. I have mastered time travel! I just leapt forward one frickin' year! XD

Rude walked into one of Cort's nightclubs, down in the Sector 3 slum's red-light district. He wore civilian clothes, the only thing left of his Turk uniform, his ever-present black shades. The club was one of Collins' regular haunts, and Rude knew the young crime boss often came here by himself.

Sure enough, after a couple of drinks, Rude saw Collins enter the club. "He looks thinner than the pictures Tseng gave me" Rude mused, watching the tall, skinny redhead confidently stride up to the counter. The only spot empty enough to get to the bar was actually next to Rude himself, as people were intimidated by his big frame.

Collins gave him a long look, as if sizing Rude up, then squeezed in to the bar, next to Rude. "Yo, Ronnie! Fix me the usual, yeah?" Then the youth again looked at Rude, having to tilt his head back a bit before remarking in a as-a-matter-of-fact kind of voice, "Yeah, so you're just about the biggest motherfucker here. What do you do, man, eat babies for breakfast?"

Rude resisted the urge to smile at the odd remark, and simply shrugged and sipped his drink, silently willing Collins to keep talking. As the bartender handed Collins his drink, the young man again looked at Rude, smirking. Rude had a moment to think, "Oh shit, is this a good thing or a bad thing?" before Collins asked "So what are you, a cop or something?"

"OK, smirking bad" Rude thought, then shook his head, "No, I'm not a cop." Although his voice was cheery enough, Rude remembered the crime scene photos Tseng had slid in front of him, of men so badly mutilated they barely looked human. It had been the mildly smiling redhead's handiwork, as of a few weeks earlier.

Collins gave a small snuffle into his drink, then shrugged "Whatever, just, for your own sake, don't give me any grief, OK? I've had a complete clusterfuck these last few weeks, and the last thing I need is some sort of gigantic, not-cop kinda guy making a mess out of the bar I'm supposed to run."

Rude mimicked Collins' shrug, "Yeah, yeah, I heard you. No grief, I assure you." Just then (and right on cue), Collins' phone rang. Rude knew it was Tseng, although all Collins said was "Oh goody, look who wants to see me." Once Collins had gotten his marks, he'd been told by Cort that Turks might call him once in a while, if only to let him know they'd be hunting some criminal under the gang's protection.

As a future gang leader, Collins was supposed to stand up for the people seeking the gang's protection, but what could he do? Tell the Turks to fuck off? He liked his head where it was, thank you very much. He usually cooperated with the Turks, same as Cort had always done.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I can see you guys now, though office hours ended a while ago . . . Sure, yeah, you're sorry, not as much as I am, you took the buzz right outta my drink . . . Alright, I'll see ya soon." Collins finished. He clicked his phone shut, and muttered "Fucking Turks, man, they're creepy . . ." Rude nodded, "Yeah, they are. I know things about ShinRa Company and the Turks that'll make your skin crawl."

The gang leader gave a quiet laugh, "Yeah, don't we all?", then looked at Rude inquisitively, "And how come you know stuff? You work for the Company?" Rude returned the cool gaze, which Collins apparently found discomforting because if the shades, "I know, 'cause I'm a Turk as well."

After openly gaping at Rude for a few seconds, Collins again smirked, "So, what are you doing here? Trying to spy on me or something?" Rude shook his head, "No. Just here for a drink. I can't stand it up on the Plate. People acting like the slums don't exist, and everything's fine just as long as they got the Company looking out for them. As if-" the big man laughed quietly, "As if the Company gave a shit about all the kids dying in the Wutai war, all the guys who've disappeared after trying to join SOLDIER."

He got up, "But if it pisses you off to have a Turk in your bar, I'll go elsewhere." He looked at Collins from behind the dark safety of his shades, and saw his blue-green eyes darting as Collins apparently put together some sort of plan. "Uh, listen, don't mind me. I'm just supposed to be paranoid, you know? But really, stick around, have a few drinks. Hey Ronnie! Put this guy here on my tab, alright? Gotta go. Talk to you soon."

Although he spoke in a relaxed drawl, Rude could see the flare of curiosity and interest in Collins' eyes. "He'll talk to me." Rude smiled softly to himself, "I'm in."

Reno sat at the bar, waiting for his ShinRa contact to show. He glanced at his watch. It was 10:25, 5 minutes before their scheduled time of meeting. The club was full, it being a Friday night. He felt eyes on the back of his head and turned to see his contact, a tall, muscular man with a shaved head and his ever-present black shades.

Ever since he stepped into the club, Rude had seen about a dozen criminals with huge ShinRa bounties on their heads, and currently, he was taking a drink offered by one of the most wanted one of all, one Reno Collins, emergent leader of TBF, what was probably the most powerful gang in all the slums.

Rude had initially been pretending to be disgusted with the ShinRa Company, giving Reno tip-offs concerning Turk investigations on the crime bosses in the surrounding Sectors, 2 and 4. What Veld was planning on was on consolidating all the Sector 3 gangs under one same core of leaders, make the gangs relaxed and complacent in the belief that they were so powerful they could withstand pretty much anything.

Then Veld would pull out all the stops, working along with all three classes of SOLDIER and the MP's to perform a massive operation to destroy the gang.

Veld himself didn't much care for the plan, but Heidegger was adamant, claiming the gang was becoming much too powerful. They had their hands in everything, from weapons dealing, to drugs, to information and prostitution. Ashe and Reno, each trying to outdo the other, had only succeeded in taking TBF to unprecedented heights.

All things considered, though, Rude had started seeing Reno as a friend instead of as a pawn to be moved around. He'd started contacting Reno a little under a year ago, shortly after he got the marks that placed him second to Cort. Veld had already set the date for the massive attack. It was scheduled to happen in two days. Rude's visit wasn't for anything other than to warn Reno.

At first Rude treated Reno as an object, as means to an end, giving him tips and watching him grow more powerful and stable in the gang's hierarchy. Later on, he began seeing Reno for what he really was: an incredibly smart strategist who could pull string to make things happen. When he proposed something, it usually meant he had already figured out at least two other possible outcomes for the situation.

Also, he was funny as hell, making random, irreverent comments Rude ended up looking forward to, if only to brighten his fundamentally lonely existence. And speaking of which . . .

"So, Rude old buddy. You look kinda down in the dumps. What's got your panties in a bunch?" Reno queried, sipping his drink. Rude shrugged, "Ah, the usual. Work." Reno made a face, "Eck, work. Listen, let's go to the VIP room. C'mon!" He insistently pulled on Rude's suit jacket sleeve until the big man sighed and followed him.

They went into a lushly decorated room. The music was sultry, and subdued. At the back of the room stood a small stage, where every so often a scantily clad girl would dance. As they settled on a comfortable leather sofa, Reno gestured at Rude, "Sit tight, man. Show's about to start. I know this girl, she's great. I'm gonna go get drinks."

The lights dimmed, and a young woman came out. Rude didn't think she was of legal age to enter the club, much less to perform. She wore a skintight miniskirt, platform high heels, and a half-open blouse that revealed the tops of her lingerie-covered breasts.

The girl looked exotic, with dusky colored skin and a voluptuous figure that seemed far removed from the willowy-delicate-waiflike beauty sought up on the Plate. As the young woman danced and gyrated on the stage, Reno came back with the drinks. He whistled between his teeth, "Whew! So what do you think, man? You can't find girls like that up on the Plate. She's half-Costan. Doesn't she have the most delicious butt you ever saw?"

The girl noticed Reno, and gave him a sultry look and winked at him. Reno hollered and waved. The song ended and the girl walked off the stage. "Didn't I tell you she was something?" Reno began, but saw the serious expression on Rude's face, "OK, now you're starting to freak me out. You usually look pissed off, or bored, but now you look . . . worried?"

Rude nodded, "Reno, we need to talk." Reno swallowed his drink and stood, "Let's go to my office then." They went to the small office Reno had upstairs. Rude had been up there before, and knew it was a soundproof room.

Reno sat on his desk and motioned to Rude, "C'mon, man, tell me already." Rude took off his sunglasses and looked Reno squarely in the face, so that Reno knew he spoke in earnest. "Reno, I'm here to warn you. The ShinRa has ordered a massive strike against TBF. 18 hours, a force composed of all 3 classes of SOLDIER, the Turks and the MPs will scour Sector 3. They . . . First Class SOLDIERs have the order to eliminate all gang bosses."

Reno opened his mouth and let out a sharp breath. He seemed agitated, unconsciously rubbing his mouth with his left hand in an uncharacteristic sign of unease. His eyes darted around the room, and Rude softly said, "You don't have the weapons and manpower to take us all on, Reno."

The blue-green eyes focused on Rude, and a faint look of disgust crossed his face, "You've been using me, haven't you? You . . . you had me get all these gangs under the same roof, and . . . but I'll bet you knew all about this a long while ago. Why tell me now?"

Rude crossed his arms over his chest, "Listen to me, Reno. This was going to happen, no matter what I did. The plan indeed was to get all the gang's joined up, then-" Reno looked angry now, "And take them all out easy. You motherfucker!"

Still, as angry as he looked, Rude noticed he also looked scared. "Why are you telling me this, Rude, so I can suffer waiting for it to happen?" the redhead asked, then gave a short laugh, "Never figured you for a sadist, man, I gotta admit."

Rude sighed, "No, Reno. I didn't tell you so you'd suffer. I told you to give you a break, to get out of here, along with anyone else you'd like to warn. The Turk commander has expressed genuine interest in having you join us. He can guarantee your safety if you leave behind TBF."

Reno scoffed, "Yeah, if you, Tseng or Veld get to me before Sephiroth and his merry men do." He looked down towards his hands, muttering, "I'm gonna stay here and fight you guys."

Rude shook his head, "Don't, Reno. Get out of town. Go to Costa del Sol with your favorite dancer, or something, just . . . don't stay to fight. Don't fight us. Tell only who you must what's going to happen. If you try to tell everyone else, Ashe will just take the opportunity to get rid of you, and the ShinRa forces will still come down here to do their housecleaning."

Downstairs, Cam looked down at what was in her hand. She squealed excitedly before a dark flash of worry came over her face. "I know what I have to do, to keep us safe . . .but, how will I tell Reno?" her thoughts were in a jumble as she decided to forget the worries for tonight, and just enjoy what she'd only then found out. She put the positive instant pregnancy test in her bag and went back out into the club.

Reno glanced out the second story window, heaving a frustrated sigh, "Goddamnit, Rude. There's people here that were counting on me to look out for them. Let's say you do kill all the heavyweights, and I get to the surface to become a Turk. Are you guys gonna protect me from any comeback?"

Rude looked away uncomfortably, mumbling, "Anybody big enough to order a hit on you will be taken care of." The big man looked at Reno, "Your best bet is to get out of here till this is done. Go to another sector, or up on the Plate, anywhere at all, just don't be here when the strike begins, because there will be no way out."

Reno stared, then frowned, "You're really scared for me, big guy?" Rude only nodded, and Reno sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily, "Fine. Alright, I guess I'll warn-" Rude looked up sharply, and Reno held up a hand, "-don't worry, Rude. I'll only warn one person. Tonight. Then I'll see what I can cook up to get the fuck outta here. How's that?"

Rude looked marginally happier, although it was hard to tell, as he'd already put his shades back on. "I'm truly sorry, Reno. At first it was just surveillance and orders handed to me by Veld. Then I got to know just what a hard worker you are, how tough you've had it. You could be a great Turk."

Reno shrugged, then smirked, "Man, do I have to wear a suit if I get accepted?" Rude nodded in assent, then clarified, "You're still on thin ice, Reno. It still depends on whether Veld will be able to convince the Heads of Department you're a good . . . investment, so to speak."

After a few more minutes clarifying details about the security checkpoints that would be established as the attack deadline neared, and what would be the best route to escape, the two men went downstairs and back into the VIP room.

A very pretty girl came up to Reno and kissed him on the lips. Rude noticed it was the same girl who'd been dancing before. Reno put on a face of utter adoration, switching from deeply worried slum escapee to witty mobster so quickly Rude almost did a double take, to make sure he was talking to the same guy.

"Rude, I don't believe you've met my goddess, my muse!" Reno crowed happily as the girl smiled and confided in Rude, "He says that about all the girls in the club. Hi, my name's Camryn." Rude lightly shook her hand, "A pleasure. My name's Rude."

Cam fluttered a hand as if fanning herself, "Ooh, polite, and gorgeous to boot! Reno, you should bring more guys like Rude down here, liven the place up." Reno had been ordering drinks while Cam flirted with Rude, and came back with them, arguing, "Aw, Cam, you're breaking my heart! Here," he tried to hand her a shot, but she shook her head, "Nah, I'm not s'posed to drink on the job."

Reno muttered, "Dammit, I'm the one running the place, you can have a drink if you want it." Cam blew him a raspberry, and Reno shrugged, "Tch, fine. Ronnie, give the lady a shot of juice!"

Once the juice shot was served, Reno toasted (very much tongue-in-cheek, in Rude's opinion), "To the future, in its many-splendored shapes and forms!" Rude saw Camryn stare at Reno a bit when he said that, but filed it away as unimportant. They drank their shots; Reno bolting down both his shot as well as the one Cam had turned away.

Rude drank his shot, wiped his mouth and said, "Please, take my advice. I'll call you tomorrow." Reno nodded, looking anxious for a moment, "Sure thing, big guy. Thanks." The Turk left and Cam gave a minute shudder. Turks were the slums version of the boogeyman, and although she'd flirted and put on a cheery face, she'd felt she was talking to the physical embodiment of Death itself.

"What was that all about, hon?" she asked, seeing how Reno seemed contemplative now that Rude had gone. His attention snapped back to her, as he smiled easily and lied, "Nothing, babe. Listen, I gotta make a few phone calls. I'll be back in a minute, don't go anywhere. I wanna walk you home, 'kay?"

She eyed him, feeling his worry. Her news would have to be postponed till Reno got whatever was on his mind out in the open. He'll tell me when he's ready." She thought, and smiled for him, "I'd like that. I'll wait for you."

A/N: For the first part of the fic, I tried to make it detached from Reno, having everyone refer to him by last name only. It's a year later when Rude sees him as Reno, and not mobster Collins. I hope it was believable, how Rude established conversation with Reno. As for the massive sting operation, I just took a hint from what the government did to stop Noriega down in South America, with the whole mini-war/extermination thing.

I also tried my best to put into words what Reno was probably feeling. He's ambivalent, because while he really does want out of the gang, he knows he's basically betraying a lot of people who more or less count on him. This goes back to the gang research I made. It is a recorded fact that the more time a person is in a gang, the more loyalty that person will feel towards it.

And on a final note: Woot! Homegirl's preggers! Hopefully it wasn't too confusing. The way I made it seem was as if she had some creepy knowledge of what Reno was listening to upstairs, when what she's really thinking about is how to keep herself and her baby safe. She still remembers what Ashe did to her.

And Lexa-Chan, I'm so sorry I haven't killed Ashe off yet! I'm really trying, but I can't find the right way just yet. As always, read and review! I'll make Reno give you a peck on the forehead if you squeeze the review button!