NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

Part Eleven: The Handbook

Evening came and went, and save to the knowledge of a scattered handful of people, the location of the princess Yuffie Kisaragi remained very much unknown. Reno and Reeve flew to Wutai in hopes of gaining the cooperation of its leader, leaving the reins of Neo-Midgar and the care of the visiting Tifa Lockheart to Rude and Elena. Within two hours of landing, however, the ex-Turk and the Mayor found themselves disgruntled, dusty, and barred from entering even the lowest level of Wutai's Imperial Pagoda.

As they turned away from the diplomatic centre of the city, a voice called to them from the porch of the Turtle's Paradise. "Hey – Turk!"

Reno whipped around. He recognized that voice: it was the kid bartender from his last ill-fated visit to Wutai. Reno turned back to Reeve and nodded as Jaden waved them towards the porch. "'S okay, Boss-Man. He's one of the Princess' friends."

"Oh," Reeve replied. "Befriending the locals, Reno? It's hardly your usual style."

"Nah," Reno shrugged. "He knows something about her that we don't, I bet. Besides, the kid mixes a killer gin and tonic, which is a favourite poison of yours, isn't it?"

"It is two o'clock in the afternoon, Reno."

"So I'll tell him you'll wait on the street?"

Reeve sighed. "Gin and tonic, you say? Perhaps just one." Ignoring Reno's amused snort, Reeve dusted his jacket off and surprised the redhead by beating him through the doors of the bar. Settling on one of the bar stools, Reeve surveyed the room. It had been ages since he'd been to the Turtle, but he could swear that the establishment hadn't changed, save for the addition of a garish red jukebox against the far wall.

"It was a gift from Yuffie," Jaden said, smiling as Reeve spun around. "The jukebox, that is. She snuck in one night and Leviathan only knows how she did it, but she'd bolted it to the floor by the time the morning staff came in."

Reno laughed from where he'd settled on the chair next to Reeve's. "Damn – sounds just like the kinda stunt she'd pull."

Jaden's eyes narrowed. "I see she got you home safe, Turk."

Reno cracked his knuckles against the bar. "I see I should be busting your kneecaps, kid. This's all your fault, isn't it?"

Reeve sighed and laid a hand on Reno's shoulder. The redhead looked like he was about to dive across the bar and throttle the bartender, and as that would be counterproductive at best… "I understand Yuffie was a friend of yours; I'm sorry for your loss."

"Loss?" Jaden asked, confused. "Oh, that's right. Actually, she's what I wanted to talk with you about. I should warn you that you'll probably want a drink first, though. Shiva knows I needed one."

"Helluva sales pitch," Reno grumbled.

"I hear," Reeve interjected, keeping his voice deliberately innocent, "that you mix a decent gin and tonic. Make it one for my petulant subordinate and one for myself, please."

Jaden nodded. "Good choice," he said, reaching for a tall blue bottle. "The first thing is something that we all probably knew already – Yuff's about as hard to kill off as a particularly stubborn Marlboro, no matter what the papers have said."

Hope caught in Reno's chest – he'd known all along, but this kid was sure making him feel like less of a fool. "So you're sayin' -"

"I'm saying," Jaden replied, lining up the glasses, "that she's still alive. Or that she was four days ago. I spoke with her and she sounded shaken up, but pretty okay. Better than I'd sound. I think she actually said – around a mouthful of one – that she'd just finished eating the best chocolate chip cookies known to man and I knew then that she couldn't have run away with you, Turk."

Reno choked on his drink.

Reeve smiled, storing the sight of Reno's expression away for future reflection and breathing a little easier at the bartender's admission. So Matthias had been right… "Where is the illustrious ninja, then?"

Jaden leant closer as he swiped at the bar-top with an old cloth, casting a careful eye around even although the room appeared otherwise empty. This is Wutai, he thought, a wry smile twisting his lips. In a culture where subterfuge is taught along with the alphabet, it never hurts to be careful. "She called just after the story hit the papers for the first time. She'd washed up in Junon, she said, and said something about a girl: Presea or Pansy or something, and dolphins – I didn't really catch that part – but she might've moved on since then. She probably has. Even when Yuffie doesn't have a price on her head, she's not much for staying in one place for long."

"So, kid," Reno drawled, "if you knew where she was, didn't you think it might've been wise to let, oh, say, her father know?"

"I tried. It didn't work," Jaden insisted. He hurled his rag and frowned as it fell into a pail at the end of the bar. "Dammit, I tried, but Lord Godo already disapproves of me for my employment – he hates that his princess spends her time cavorting around the countryside and sprawling in bars with Junonite half-breeds – his words, Mr. Mayor – and that she spills tea on visitors when he knows she perfected the tea ceremony when she was six. So when he heard from Sabrina that it was my fault the two of you were together in the first place… well, I was lucky to walk out of the Imperial Pagoda unharmed."

Reeve nodded carefully. "As good as it is to hear she is safe, why tell us this now? We have not even been granted an audience with Lord Godo, and it is unlikely that he will consider what you have told us without more concrete evidence."

Reno clinked his empty glass against the bar. "Could be that's the goal of the bastards who set this up – I sure's hell wouldn't put this past Ypres. It doesn't really strike me as his style, but whoever he's working under is creatin' one hell of a cat-and-mouse game. Besides, that Sabrina chick is Ypres' toy. She's the one who knocked out Yuffie – damn dirty shot, too, 'cause the Princess was beating Ypres into the ground before that so-called friend of hers took a cheap shot from the door."

"I see," Reeve sighed. "It isn't going to be easy to get this across to Lord Godo, even with my status, Reno."

"Dammit," Jaden cursed. "Weren't you guys running the world two years ago? Bust in there. Do something. Please, I'm asking you – for her sake, not mine – you don't know me and hell, Turk, I know you don't trust me, and that's fine. Lord Godo is a good ruler, but if whoever is behind this is intending to divide our forces, you must make him listen."

Reeve ignored Reno's snort of "our forces, kid?" and nodded, swirling the ice around his glass. "We will try to negotiate further with your information in mind; it can't hurt, I suppose."

"It is why we're here, ya know," the redhead drawled. "That, and that trade-agreement thing 'Laney mentioned – that too. I could do with bustin' up a skull or two in the process, though."

"You'll find them particularly hard-headed over there," Jaden muttered. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"Indeed so," Reeve said, buttoning his coat. "But business is business, I'm afraid. Thank you for the drink, ah –"

"It's Jaden, and you're welcome." He wiped his hands on his apron and offered one to the mayor, who shook it firmly. Nodding, Jaden ran a hand through his hair. "I hope you two have better luck this time."

Reno patted his holster and waved. "We will, trust me. That's for damn sure." With a smile that was more a flash of teeth, the redhead turned to leave. "C'mon, Boss-Man."

Reeve sighed, but followed Reno out. "I honestly wish that you'd stop calling me that."

. o .

After ten minutes had passed in failed negotiation with the doormen at the imperial Pagoda, Reno's patience expired. "Oh, to Hades with it," he cursed. When he glanced at Reeve, Reno was heartened by his old supervisor's nod. He supposed the approval shouldn't have mattered either way, but the support of at least one person in the area couldn't hurt. "Look," Reno continued, pulling back his sleeve to reveal his gauntlet and the red sphere set into it. "That there is one-hundred-percent concentrated badass water dragon."

The guards whose naginata were crossed in front of the two Midgarians frowned, and the taller guard of the pair spoke first. "You cannot mean such a thing."

Reno's smile grew. "You bet I do. Yeah, this is your badass water dragon, but I'm the one holding onto it, so why don't ya both shut up and let us in? Unless," he grinned, "you want to explain to Kisaragi Senior why you washed into his throne room with your ugly skirts around your ears. We need to talk to the Almighty Ruler, and dammit, whatever he's doing better not be more important than tryin' to save his daughter's life."

The young Wutaian shifted in surprise.

Reno fitted the red sphere into the end of his nightstick. "Yeah, that's right. I'm not here to kill you, but I suggest you get the hell out of my way. Our way," he amended, looking at Reeve.

"We are sorry," the second guard apologized, his arms tensing. "We have been given –"

"Your funeral," Reno raised his nightstick. "Never much liked orders anyway."

" – please, wait," the guard insisted. "If you will not leave and must resort to this, we will take you to a waiting room."

Letting out a tense breath, Reeve stepped forward. "I thank you for your kindness. It is, however, a matter of some importance...?"

With a wary look at Reno, the taller guard unlocked one half of the gate. "Your request is understood, sir Mayor. I will see what I can do."

Reeve sighed as he followed a jumpy attendant and a redhead all but spitting sparks through the winding hallways of the Pagoda. "This feels like a return to the old days, I'm sure."

"Nah," Reno chuckled. "In the old days, we probably would've just fought our way through whoever was dumb enough to bar our way without bothering to blather first."

"You can't mean it."

"Orders weren't optional, Reeve. If we were told to get an audience, we got one."

Reeve paused. "Do you miss it? The job, I mean."

"Sometimes," Reno answered. "It helped that it was work in those lean days; shit, it wasn't great, though the pay was, and the crew – they were family, kinda. Rude and 'Laney are family; better than any I ever had as blood. So we reigned over Hades. So what? We weren't the only guns for hire; we were just the best ones."

"Such humility," Reeve deadpanned.

Reno shrugged. "If it's true…"

The guard walking in front of them paused to open a door to his left. "Wait here, please. I will inform Lord Godo of your presence." Returning Reeve's nod with a deeper bow, he continued. "May I offer you – gentlemen – some tea?"

The guard's mouth was twisted into as much of a sneer as his position allowed, Reeve noticed, so he nodded at the tall Wutaian. "Thank you."

"Y'have anything real to drink?" Reno asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Not for the individuals responsible for Lady Yuffie's disappearance, I am afraid," the guard returned with crisp civility. Nodding again to Reeve, he reached for the sliding door. "I will have one of the servants bring your tea, Mayor Vanh. If you will excuse me, I must return to my post."

Reno smirked as the door slid shut. "Ten gil says he's just gonna wait around the corner and see if we split."

"We are in their country," Reeve answered, rubbing at his temples. "It is our duty, Reno, to respect that."

Reno leant back into his cushion, but his right hand hovered over the handle of his nightstick. "It's your job. Mine's to make sure you don't get shish-kabobbed, and maybe to give Yuffie's old man a piece of my mind."

The room fell into silence until a young woman in traditional Wutaian garb brought three teacups and a teapot into the room, setting it upon a low table and bowing herself out of the room without a word.

"I should hope you are here to return my daughter's birthright." True to his shinobi heritage, Godo Kisaragi had slipped into the room before either Midgarian had noticed, and smiled at the momentary unease on both of their faces as they spun around.

Reno recovered first. "I was actually hoping for a trade when I saw her next. You might've heard from the papers, but she kinda has something of mine. I'd give it to you, y'know, as a sign of good will, but I'd rather give it to her."

"Surely you don't think I am fooled that easily, Turk. I have it from a reliable source that you were the one who kidnapped my daughter."

"Lord Godo," Reeve intervened, sipping his tea, "I do not wish to disclaim your source, but we have received two coinciding reports that your daughter is in Junon and not under any sway of my associate."

"May I ask," Godo inquired, "whom these sources might be?"

"If you will do the honour of extending the same kindness, I do not see the trouble in doing so."

Reno was impressed. Reeve had always struck him as a bit of an easily flustered pushover. Aside from his eloquence and that stunt involving pulling the wool over old man Shinra's eyes and living, Reeve seemed to be a thoroughly average man. But this, Reno thought, was the man in his element. Reno had seen similar purpose in Tseng's eyes in the field and similar calculation in the set of Elena's jaw as she puzzled out mission tactics. For the first time all day (shoving Leviathan in that lackey's face didn't count, but damn, it had felt great) Reno felt confident that they might be able to gain the cooperation of the Wutaian leader.

"The first report," Reeve continued, "was from a contact in Junon, Matthias Grumio. He runs a weapons-shop in lower Junon, and I received notice that she had crossed his path early this morning. This report was supported by that of a bartender at the Turtle's Paradise this afternoon. A young man named Jaden told us in confidence that he had heard from your daughter four days ago."

Godo nodded, offering Reeve a small tray of fruit. "Ah, Ono's grandson. I have heard his report."

With that, the negotiations were underfoot. Reno let Reeve steer their side of the discussion, keeping one eye on his old colleague and the other on the environment. He'd meant what he said about knocking some sense into Lord Kisaragi, and from the sound of the discussion, the feeling seemed mutual. So he watched the room, memorizing details and the faces of the attendants as they came and went. Yuffie was about as subtle as a Giant Mog dosed with Hyper spells, but if his old Turk missions were anything to go by, she was the exception to the rule.

However, Reno's silence became a curiosity as the meeting wore on, and the redhead's spine straightened as Godo Kisaragi's gaze shifted in his direction.

"There are some things I do not comprehend entirely," Godo began, looking from Reno to Reeve and back again. "The first among these is why, when you have insisted that Shinra's Turks have been disbanded, your manners are that of a leashed dog. Please rest assured that if I had wanted either of you eliminated, it would have already happened, so feel at ease to speak honestly." With an elaborate sweep of his arm and a glare that could have scratched steel, Godo continued. "But if you would please also speak swiftly; as you have already noted, my daughter and heir is at best in grave danger. At worst… Well. Surely you understand."

Reno pushed himself off of the cushions he'd sprawled against and began to pace the length of the negotiation room. Reeve began to speak, but the redhead interrupted. "No. This one's mine to answer, Boss."

Godo's expression hardened at the redhead's choice in address, and his eyes shifted to an ornate scroll painting that covered half of one of the walls. Before the Kisaragi could speak, Reno sighed, flicked the wrist that was holding his nightstick, and bit his lip to keep a sober expression as he walked back from the windowsill he had leaned against. "'S a nickname, Lord Godo; ya don't have to send your goon squad after me just yet. He'll confirm that I haven't been anywhere near Neo-Midgar other than to drop off a perfectly normal cargo shipment at any time over the past four months, and no search of the city's databases will show ya anything you're hinting at." Spinning around, Reno paced towards the wallscroll and lifted a corner of the parchment, using his free hand to wave jauntily at the pagoda guard scowling from behind a gold barrier of electric light. "Yup," Reno continued. "It's just a nickname. Old habits die hard, y'know?"

"So it appears," Godo replied, unfazed. "And yet you continue to avoid my question."

Pacing back to the window, Reno smiled. "I'd be wearing two summon Materia if I had her, y'see – that's if I wanted her. No disrespect, Lord Godo, but your daughter's a headache and a half. But," he continued, looking out to the coast barely visible from his vantage point, "before killing me for insulting your flesh and blood, you should know that she's the sort of headache that'll fight hand-to-hand to save my life and put her own in the betting pool, and I've gotta admire her for it."

The Lord of Wutai choked on his tea.

Reeve muttered something that could have been "absolutely typical…"

Sparing the two most politically powerful men on the face of the Planet only the quickest of glances, Reno continued. "So yeah. There's your answer. It wasn't meant to be a kidnapping, what happened – the guys were just there for my Materia at first. Unfortunately, the ringleader and I turned out to have more than our share of bad blood, and he was aiming for my life once he knew who I was. Turk, yeah – I was one, all right, but I was also piss-drunk and would've lost, if she hadn't burst in on the scene like some conquering hero." He laughed, leaning back against the wall, and if green eyes turned soft in recollection, no witness to the scene would ever admit it. "Heroine, actually. In really tiny shorts."

Reeve sighed and bit his lip. It would not do to laugh in the presence of the man whose help (and energy contract) they needed, no matter how funny his expression had become at the end of Reno's anecdote. "Reno"

"Okay, okay. You wanted your answer? Here, in simple terms: what she did created a life-debt, and I need the Boss-Man's and your help, because I can't ignore what she did, and can't do too much on my own to help her as I am now, and she's your daughter and all. Or, 'cause you're obviously waiting for it, rule thirteen in the Turk Handbook is pretty clear on never disregarding one of those debts."

Godo smiled over his teacup. "And so you admit freely –"

" –I'm no Turk anymore, no. Ya can't belong to something that doesn't exist. Doesn't matter who I am or what I am anyway – she saved my life, and I'm not about to let her die slowly for extending the favour that she did. I don't get what goes on in her head any more than anyone else does, but –" Reno paused to listen as the sound of footsteps and a distant argument approached.

"…and I don't care if he's busy or otherwise occupied or half-asleep, gorramit – I want to know what he's doing sending off Summons on my supply route and scarin' all the new kids out of their thrice-damned knickers, and you can bet that –" The tatami door slid to the side as Cid Highwind stormed into the room without further announcement. Godo's glacial 'Mister Highwind' brought the pilot up short, but after a quick bow to the Wutaian leader, Cid recovered, dusting the road-dust from the shoulders of his worn leather jacket. "Evenin', Lord Godo. I was hoping I might be able to steal the attention of your honoured guest to ask him to explain a thing or two. It won't take a second."

"Damn, man - take a number," Reno laughed.

"I don't remember askin' your permission or opinion, Turk."

Reno growled, his fingers flexing into a fist. "I'm not the only one who used t'work for Shinra in this room, Highwind."

"Why you boot-licking little –"

"Gentlemen." Godo Kisaragi's tone brooked no refusal. "Might I remind you both that this is hardly the venue, and that there are rather more important issues to be concerned over? Please, calm yourselves."

As the pilot plunked on the third cushion around the table with a predatory glance in the direction of the unused teacup, and Reno resumed his casual sprawl, Reeve spoke. "Cid, I wasn't the one who released Bahamut anywhere near a shoreline: through a tangle of circumstance and sheer bad luck, the summon fell into Yuffie's possession, and it appears that she cast it either in a panic or in self-defence. That said," he added, "precisely how much and what exactly do you know at present about her disappearance?"

. o .

Back in Junon, Matthias was turning the locks on his store's front door when a knock came from the other side. "Store's closed," the brunet hollered. "We're open again tomorrow at nine." He turned away from the door, but the sound of metal scraping across stone caused him to spin around to see what had caused the noise. With a mixture of amusement and worry, he realized that it had come from a familiar, tiny shuriken that had been pushed under the door. With a sigh, Matthias walked over to the door and unbolted the lock. "You can come in now, Miss Kisaragi."

"I told you," the redheaded girl teased, shaking her hair to rid it of the rain, "the name's Akiko."

Rolling his eyes, Matthias moved to take Yuffie's coat, which loosed a small torrent of water onto his freshly-swept floor as her hood collapsed. "Damn - did Adrian drop you in the ocean before dropping you off, kid?"

Yuffie glared. "I walked. I didn't want to be any more trouble to Gran or her husband."

"And so I get the honour because…"

From where she had settled, perched – fittingly, he noted – on the glass display case that housed the better shuriken in the store, she smiled winningly. "I need more weapons. And yeah, I've got the money. But I need your help, too."

Matthias leant against the same counter with a frown. "And exactly what sort of help would you be looking for at this hour of night?"

Yuffie sneezed violently. "A dry blanket and some tea'd be awesometastic for starters, Mattie. And none of that crappy Continental stuff, either."

Matthias shook his head, choosing to ignore the nickname. "I don't suppose," he asked, not moving an inch, "at some point between your childhood education and tromping around the Continent that you ever heard a little saying about beggars and choosers."

"Nope!" Yuffie's smile was impossibly blissful, but she blinked as Matthias held his ground. "…gawd, okay, sure I did, but it never hurts to ask?"

As she smiled, he walked behind the counter and into the backroom, emerging seconds later with a tartan quilt in loud blues and greens. "The first I can help you with," Matthias said, handing it to her. After relocking the front door, he settled into a chair against the wall and offered its twin to the ninja still sitting on his display cases. As she jumped down from the counter and curled into the office chair, Matthias continued. "The second, not so much. Why don't you tell me why you're really here, Miss Kisaragi?"

Any coy girlishness that Yuffie had channelled evaporated from her expression. "I meant what I said about weapons, and I know you have ties to what used to be Shinra. I heard you after I left the other day and Adrian confirmed it."

Matthias sighed, using the reflex to shift his hand closer to the gun holster at his hip. "You look awfully tangled in that blanket to be after me for vengeance, Yuffie."

"I'm not. Not against you, 'cause if I were, there would've been a shuriken embedded in your backbone the second you stretched to grab this lovely blanket." Yuffie snuggled further into the fabric, her eyes calm but the corner of her lip tugging upwards.

"The fact that you can smile and say that is kind of creepy, miss." When she laughed, he relaxed, but his hand didn't move. "So if you're not after me…"

"I need you to get me in touch with Reeve Vanh and his staff in NeoMidgar. I know you can do it, Matthias. I need you to, because this is too big for me to take on by myself, especially since half the Planet thinks I'm dead and at least another quarter might want to make sure of it thanks to the whole Channeling thing and probably the other quarter works for that Chao-damned company. I wanted to get him back for everything he's done; wanted to show that I could stand alone and get those bastards for nearly drowning me and puncturing the hell out of my throwing shoulder and poisoning me but then they go and pull an innocent girl into it – Leviathan's balls, I could just -"

"Slow down – Channeling? Poison? Drowning? Yuffie, what do you mean by 'innocent girl'?"

"Priscilla – he has Priscilla, and that's all my fault."

She pulled the quilt between her hands, breathing carefully, but he could sense her panic, and spoke slowly and quietly. "You mean Adrian and Grania's Priscilla, right? Why would –"

"She's leverage. He – they – whoever – lost me and they want me back, but they took her, because she was the closest thing to me they could find." The blanket was still wrapped around Yuffie's shoulders, but the ninja uncurled herself and faced Matthias, her posture suddenly refined. "The girl's like me. But she's only thirteen…"

Matthias nodded tightly, understanding the unsaid. "And Adrian? Grania?"

Yuffie sneezed. "They're okay – Adrian's ex-military, right? He said he'd have some friends keep an eye out for them, but with me there, there'd be too many questions, so we thought, maybe, it'd be best if I wasn't around, you know?"

"C'mon." Waving her towards the other door at the back of the shop, Matthias reached for the light switches. "I'm guessing that you need a place to crash, and I've got a spare sleeping bag."

"And tea?" Yuffie asked, hopeful.

Matthias chuckled, and letting the ninja skip up the stairs in front of him. He wasn't entirely certain how she could manage such a feat considering that the blanket still draped around her shoulders trailed past her feet, but didn't question it. "I can't stand the stuff," he called after her. "But if you look in the blue tin by the stove, you might find some hot chocolate powder." She disappeared in a blur of blue, green, and red; he realized at the top of the stairs that he'd forgotten entirely about turning the store lamps off.

By the time that Matthias turned the door to his apartment, she had appropriated his couch, and had his largest mug cradled between her hands. Before he could protest, Yuffie pointed wordlessly at the second-largest mug resting precariously on the corner of his stove, filled to the brim with hot chocolate. "Thanks," he said, picking up the mug and padding towards his room. "I'm going to hit the kip for the night, and I'll see what I can help you with in the morning." Turning back around, he added, "and if I find anything missing, miss, I'll find you and your hands will be forfeit."

Yuffie stuck out her tongue. "Same goes if I find you've touched me, mister." She turned back to her hot chocolate. As his footsteps sounded down the short hallway, Yuffie allowed herself her first honest smile of the evening as she savoured the lingering richness of the hot chocolate on her tongue and the warmth of her skin under the borrowed blanket. Especially in emergency situations, she thought, a girl's got to have her priorities.

. o .

As the Highwind touched down on Junon's municipal outskirts, Cid didn't take his eyes from his ship when he addressed his redheaded passenger. "I don't have ta tell ya to be damn careful when you go in there, Reno. Get her back, all right?"

Reno shouldered his pack, tugging at the cords that held the wrapped spikes of Yuffie's Oritsuru to the bag to secure them. With a wide grin, he jumped over the railing of the airship. He grimaced at the mud that had immediately coated his shoes and specked the rest of his clothing upon landing, and looked up. "That's the plan, Highwind. Thanks for the lift."

"Keep in touch, Turk. And I also don't need to tell you that if you hurt her… damn, I sure's Hades wouldn't want to be you if that were found to be the case."

"Nah, nah. I get it." Reno straightened his pack and laughed over the rain. "You're all just a bunch of saps and mother hens at heart, aren't ya?"

"What's that, 'thanks for the help, Captain Highwind, sir?' Thought so, punk." Cid roared at the redhead as he started the engines up again, but couldn't help his smile.

"Whatever, old man." Reno turned from the airship, but as he waved a farewell over his shoulder, his lips also curved into a smile. True, he was soaking wet, and still had a ninja-girl to track down, but the weight of her Oritsuru against his back was almost comforting. Leverage, he'd learned, never hurt. And hey, he thought, at least we're finally on the same continent.

. o .

…to be continued …

. o .

Sabe's Scribbles: The canon characters and locations continue to belong to Squaresoft; I borrow them erratically. Huge and honest thank-yous to: the reviewers, both signed and anonymice, to Reno S for not taking me out for failing the challenge (better late than never?), and to T and Kai for listening and bouncing ideas with me in every direction but straightforward. This story's a big "what if?" at heart so it's always fun to hear about the reactions of those who have come along for the ride.

Cheers!