A/N:

W: Yeah... I wasn't kidding about this being an emotional rollercoaster. ;)

Kanneola: Thank you! Yeah, she's really adrift right now, but at least she's finally beginning to process things instead of just running away from them all the time. I'm glad you liked Rude's visit. It can be hard getting such a quiet, understated character right.

25. Wolf at the Door

Once home and alone, I found no peace. The strange encounter with Rude replayed again and again in my head. He had made it sound like Reno missed me, but it didn't make sense. Reno was the one avoiding me.

Why would Reno even want to come back? According to the gossip at HQ, he would love them and leave them. After all the drama he must have been eager to return to his old ways. He probably already had. From what I had seen, Edge was full of beautiful women looking for a good time. Kalm too, I recalled with a bitter lurch in my gut. Fun, normal, hassle-free women with no baggage. Maybe Reno was with one of them right now. Maybe he was happier.

Then why did Rude come to you?

The question spun around in my mind like a brightly lit marquee, refusing to be ignored, until finally I picked up my phone. One more message, that was all. One more try, and if nothing came of it, I would move on. I would let us both move on.

Once the phone was in my hand, though, I stared at the blank screen while the minutes ticked by. Every sentence I came up with seemed too needy, too clingy. Too revealing.

Then again, what was the point in trying to play it cool? Reno had seen me at all kinds of worst. One cleverly worded text wouldn't make him see me in a whole new light. As depressing as that was, there was also something liberating about it. There was no need for pretense, no need to hold back. Within a few seconds, the message was typed and sent.

I miss you. Can we talk? Please?

Honest and to the point; two qualities I had prided myself on. When had they begun to slip away from me?

Not that it would matter. He wouldn't reply. He never did.

The day after Orin Faro's visit, I felt like a lunch free of company and headed into town on my own. It wasn't a conscious decision to venture out to the gate district. Maybe it was on my mind from the discussion the previous day; or rather, from the soul-searching I had been doing since Chelsea and Grigori started fighting over the refugees. Once I realized my feet were taking me toward the main gates, I decided to let them.

The nearest restaurant had a rooftop terrace with a view straight through the gates to the shantytown outside. Despite the lovely weather, I was the only one who chose to have my meal up there.

Eating became a mechanical task as I watched the gates. The long snaking queue just outside held my attention: people stood with an eclectic array of containers in their hands, waiting for their turn to use a tap right by the town wall. The line never grew shorter, only changed over at a sluggish rate. I didn't see all that many bandages, which surprised me; Stigma sufferers seemed to be the minority. Then again, perhaps they couldn't queue in the heat of the sun. Sweat was trickling down my spine after just a few minutes on the terrace.

The shantytown had been out there since Meteorfall. Had no one thought to add more water points?

A handful of people milled among the queuers, wearing yellow vests with the letters ARK printed on the back. It stood for Assistance and Relief in Kalm, and I mused that it was aptly chosen – the acronym was a complete coincidence, of course, as I was the only one who would read it that way on this planet. After lunch, I sought out the nearest volunteer. The ARK people cursed the water problem but could do nothing about it; after a major outbreak of Geostigma among the refugees, Kalm's town council had washed their hands of everything outside the walls. Too few resources, the volunteers sighed. Too little gil, too few people.

Once I got back to the office, I called Reeve. On Wednesday, I heard that a civil engineering team had arrived from Edge. Over lunch on Thursday, I watched them at work near the tap, wrangling pipes and valves beneath a large WRO sign. From what I could see, they had more help than they knew what to do with: the shantytown's inhabitants were more than eager to pitch in.

I felt conflicted. On the one hand, I had set the wheels in motion for a project that might improve many lives. On the other, it was the first piece of solid good I had accomplished on this world. I could have done it months ago, if I had cared to pay attention to the world around me.

My world now, I reminded myself. The thought still tasted odd.

I squeezed my eyes shut and placed my elbows on the desk, letting my head rest in my hands. My thoughts waded through the molasses that was my mind, dull and reluctant. It was disheartening. A weekly analysis report shouldn't have caused me this much trouble.

It was the fitful sleep, of course, amounting to a few pathetic hours a night. After several months' reprieve, the nightmares were back with a vengeance. Images from my new life bled into memories from Hojo's chambers, creating a hell I returned to in flashes every time I set foot in the labs downstairs. Orin Faro had been in one of the nightmares, a scalpel in his twitchy fingers. I hadn't heard from the man since his exit a couple of days ago, though. It was a relief. The way he had acted that evening, I had half-expected him to pop up on my doorstep.

I jerked upright and reached for the keyboard. A search for my name in the employee database brought up a thin bio. My name, professional title and responsibilities. My shoulders loosened when I saw that my only listed address was the office at Kalm station. That was it. Not even a picture.

I repeated the search in the general databases. The process took minutes, and yielded only an official document on the WRO's projects in the environmental sciences. I typed in TU-021. Nothing. I sank back in my millionaire's chair and released a slow breath. At least I wouldn't need to worry about cyber-stalking on Gaia.

I wondered what the man could have done to earn Reno's ire. Was he really one of Hojo's former lackeys? Orin hadn't mentioned it, but then he wouldn't, would he? That kind of connection wasn't exactly a feather in one's cap at the WRO.

The employee database held a similar profile for Orin, with only the barest details of his current position. The expanded search offered several hits, but included other people with the same name. I scanned a couple of result pages, but saw nothing connected to Hojo or biological research.

I glanced at the clock and swore under my breath. Thanks to the glacial response time of Gaian computer systems, I had ended up wasting half an hour on this little detour. At this rate, I would be wrestling with my report well past official hours. With a sigh, I brought up the text editor.

I started into consciousness, lost for where I was. A figure was standing over me, bright blue eyes staring back at me. I flinched in fright.

"Whoa, easy there, Doctor. It's just me. Tyco."

I hid my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. My heart thrummed in my chest.

"Shit," I mumbled.

"Why are you still here? It's almost midnight."

Tyco leaned forward a bit to take a peek at the computer screen. Blond locks fell about his face, long enough to reach his shoulders. It must have been the first time I had seen him without the ponytail.

"Sleeping, apparently. Which, for the record, was not part of the plan." I noticed his striped pajama bottoms. "Is it really midnight?"

"Ten to, yes. I was making my usual bedtime rounds of the place when I noticed a light in here."

I glanced at the window. The sky was dark except for the glow of a gibbous moon.

"Damn it," I sighed and tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

Tyco's concern had been replaced by amusement, judging by the lopsided smile on his face.

"Come on," he said, waving me up with one hand as he stepped back. "The report will still be there tomorrow."

"Thanks for that thought," I grumbled as I shut the computer down.

"Think of your comfy bed at home, then."

Sure, it was comfortable. It was also far too empty, as was the whole house. Too much room for nightmares, and for self-pity.

"Not so tempting, huh?" Tyco guessed. "You know, there's a spare bed in the empty office next to my room. It's better than having to walk home when your body's half asleep, eh?"

My instinct was to say no, but I hesitated. Maybe it would help to know that someone else was right next door. It was worth a shot. Otherwise, at the rate I was going, I would be unable to function before the week was out.

"As long as it's no trouble..."

"Nah, no trouble. Come on. I'll help you set it up."

He lent me a t-shirt, too. As I drifted off, I could hear Tyco move around on the other side of the wall. A quiet thump. Footsteps. A door creaking. In spite of the folding bed and unfamiliar surroundings, it was the best sleep I'd had in weeks.

In the morning, Tyco woke me before the others showed up for work. I dashed to my house and returned an hour later, leaving Grigori none the wiser. The secrecy felt a bit silly, really, but the fewer questions asked, the better.

After a proper night's rest, I tackled the piles of paperwork with gusto. I was still eager to continue after an extra hour at work, but didn't want to risk making a habit of spending my nights at the place. I decided to catch up on my duties at home.

It was dark outside when the melodic trill of the doorbell sounded over the soft jazz in the background, interrupting my review of one of Chelsea's field reports. I dropped the document onto the pile on the coffee table as I got up from the couch, wondering who could be at my door at this time of the evening. Someone from the WRO, maybe. Perhaps Elmyra in need of a cup of sugar, or a cup of tea with company.

It was Reno.

My brain sputtered to a standstill. Every feeling I had repressed was roaring through my mind, flooding me until I felt lightheaded. I wanted to laugh, to pull him inside, to kiss him; but I just stood there and gaped at him like the Kalm village idiot.

"Hey," he said.

I snapped my mouth shut, then forced out a greeting.

"Hey."

I moved aside. He sauntered past me in a gust of whiskey and cigarettes, and kicked off his boots as I closed the door. When I turned around he was slouching in my hallway with hooded eyes and thumbs hooked in the pockets of his slacks, that damnable distant look still on his face. I wanted to slap a reaction out of him. I wanted to jump his bones. Both at once, or in no particular order.

"Want some coffee?" I asked instead.

"Sure."

He followed me into the kitchen and leaned back against the wall, watching as I set up the coffeemaker. His silence was unnerving, doubly so with his eyes burning in the back of my head. Once the machine began its gentle sputtering I faced him, placing my hands on the counter behind me to keep them still.

In the bright light of my kitchen, I got a better look at him. On the surface he was the same as ever: the scantily buttoned shirt hanging free under the open jacket, the goggles fighting a losing battle with his hair, the arrogance oozing out of every pore. His jaw was clenched, though, and despite the alcohol, his eyes were sharp. He was strung tight as a wire.

I was used to him doing the talking, but he just stood there, watching. Examining me, as if he could strip me bare with his gaze alone – but not as a lover. This was the cold scrutiny of an investigator.

The memories it brought back to me were not pleasant ones.

"I..." I had no idea what to say, but I couldn't bear the silence. Not with Reno staring at me like that. "I didn't think you'd come back."

"I wasn't gonna come back."

My heart sank. My nails began digging into the countertop.

"Then why did you?"

"Guess I'm as dumb as I look, yo."

He wore a mockery of a smile. I opened my mouth, but no response came out. I shut it again and looked down at my feet. I couldn't meet that stare of his anymore.

I heard the rustle of his suit. Such a soft sound, yet it dominated the silence. I remembered how it felt under my fingers. Pressed against my skin. So cool to the touch, compared to his fingers and his lips.

His Turk suit. Was he on his way to a job? From a job?

Was he on a job?

He could have mentioned my texts. He could have said something about our last meeting. The fact that he wouldn't sent a tingle of fear through me.

"Why are you here?" I whispered.

No reply. Not even the swish of fabric. The air was still, growing thicker with old fears and awkward memories. We may as well have been separated by a solid wall.

My grip on the counter tightened to prevent the tremble in my limbs.

"Shit. I should've just stayed the hell away."

I heard him push himself off the wall and I looked up in alarm. He was heading for the door. I panicked.

"Reno! Just... talk to me. Please!"

He stopped in the doorway and looked back at me.

"Talk, huh? Now you wanna talk? We could've talked at the pub. We could've talked at the fuckin' hotel!"

His voice grew louder, but still he kept that unnatural calm. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't read him like this.

"Please," I whispered.

"Please what," he spat. "What the hell d'ya want from me now!"

"Nothing! I just..." It didn't matter how hard I clutched the countertop. The tremble had found its way to my voice. "Don't go. Not like this. Please."

The facade cracked for just a moment. His lip curled back into a grimace.

"I can't fuckin' do this, okay? I can't be with ya like this!"

His words stung like a slap to the face. Losing him as a lover was hard enough, but to lose our friendship... Miserable regret welled up in me and I made a last desperate attempt to save whatever was left.

"Look... It was a mistake, I know that now. We started something we both regret. It's fine, let's just forget it and... we can still try to go back to how things used to be, can't we? Pretend none of it ever happened?"

As soon as I said it, I knew I had made it worse. It was written all over his face.

"For fuck's sake, it wasn't a mistake! Ifrit's balls, Fitz, don't you get it? I don't wanna forget. I don't wanna fuckin' pretend! I can't stand here in your kitchen, drinkin' your goddamn coffee, and act like it don't mean nothin' to me!"

I could only stare; stare at him in suffocating silence as his words rang in my ears. Then his eyes went wide, and I realized he had said more than he had meant to.

"Fuck!" he snarled and bolted out of the room.

I rushed after him and caught up with him by the front door.

"I told ya I'd fuck it up," he growled as he shoved his feet into his boots. "I fuckin' told ya."

"Reno."

He ignored me and reached for the door, but I put a hand on his arm before his fingers found the handle. It was a light touch, but he froze instantly. The smooth fabric of the Turk suit couldn't hide that the muscles beneath were locked as tight as his jaw. My heart was hammering against my ribs and I struggled to find the right words, but I had to try. I knew that if he left this time, he wouldn't come back. I wet my lips, and took a moment to gather my courage.

"It meant something to me too."

Reno's eyes were fixed on my hand. His nostrils flared with every breath and his jaw worked in a steady rhythm. When he spoke, he bit off the words.

"Don't play games with me. Don't."

Shinra, the Turks, the surveillance – none of it mattered. None of it even crossed my mind. All I cared about at that moment was the man in front of me, and how the thought of him leaving made my eyelids burn and my throat raw.

"I'm not! I'm so sorry about what I said. All of it. Everything came out wrong. I'm the one who screwed this up, not you." I raised my other hand to run my palm over his shoulder in a slow circle. "I missed you. Stay. Please."

He didn't move. The silence stretched on, so heavy I didn't dare breathe. In a wordless plea, my fingers tightened their grip on his arm.

"If I stay... I'll want more than just coffee."

His quiet words made me go weak at the knees; first from relief, then from the promise they held. I took half a step closer, brushing myself against his arm.

"I don't have a problem with that."

Reno released the tension in his body with a long sigh, then lifted his eyes to mine. My breath caught in my throat. Had they always been so beautiful? He placed his hand on the side of my neck, stroking his thumb over my cheek, and my skin lit up with joy.

"And I ain't gonna pretend nothin' happened in the morning."

"I... I never wanted you to. I shouldn't have said that." My lips twitched, almost far enough to count as a smile, and I moved my hands to caress his chest. "I just assumed you had second thoughts about the whole thing. Let's face it, I'm kind of more trouble than I'm worth."

His gaze was guarded at first, his eyes searching for something in mine. Then a smile broke through, faint but with the power to steal my breath away.

"Yeah," he murmured. "You're too smart to buy my bullshit. That gets real annoyin', yo."

I chuckled. "Shut up and kiss me already."

Reno smiled wider, enough to crease the red crescents under his eyes, and tilted my face up to his.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled as he leaned in.

I closed my eyes as his lips touched mine once, twice; gentle and tentative, as if he expected me to change my mind. The third time, the carefulness gave way to playful teasing. Every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue sent another lick of heat across my skin; each touch a little spark building up to a raging wildfire.

I arched into him with a moan that came from deep in my throat, and weaved my hands through his hair. The wild spikes were silk in my fingers, as soft as his mouth on mine. Maybe it had just been too damned long, but Reno's kisses thrilled me in ways I couldn't remember experiencing quite like this before.

I hadn't experienced this before, not with him. Not with anyone. His tender kisses teased and cherished at the same time, filled with promises I might never hear in words.

My whole being hummed with barely contained anticipation. I wanted more. I needed more: more of his touch, of his hot breath on my skin, of his whiskey-tinged taste and scent.

As the kiss deepened, his hands began to roam and pressed my body tighter to him, his mouth now greedy and demanding. I responded by slipping my hands in under his untucked shirt and up along his back, relishing the feel of taut muscle rippling under my exploratory fingertips. I let my nails dig into his skin as I ran them back down, and he rewarded me with a shudder and an approving growl that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my core.

"Fitz, baby." The words were a throaty chuckle, uttered so close that his lips brushed against mine. "Fuck, I've missed ya so bad."

He pulled back just enough to devour me with hungry eyes, then pushed me backwards, his hands firm on my hips and a wolfish smile on his lips. I grinned back at him as he ushered me toward the stairs. I didn't need to tell him the feeling was mutual. He would get the message, loud and clear. I would see to that.