A/N - As always, reviews and comments welcome.

As he'd predicted, Reno was in work the next day – a Saturday of all days – albeit on paperwork rather than in the field. Meaning he had to occupy himself at Shinra headquarters, while Rude had dutifully slipped away to cover what Reno was supposed to be doing. For reasons he didn't fully understand, Shinra was obsessed with a flower seller in the slums, watched her from when she was tiny. He hated being sent down to "observe and protect" as Tseng had put it. Firstly, she didn't want him there, she made that very clear. Secondly, he didn't want to be there. Thirdly, it was the most boring gig he'd ever had: 'Oh wow Aerith, which watering can are you going to use today?' The only interesting thing about the whole operation was the fact that she could make anything grow at all, either under or on the plate. To top it off, she was one of the ones who talked to her flowers too. 'Truly, Shinra enemy numero uno' Reno sighed as he thought about all the other shit they had to worry about – the fact they had no SOLDIER first class left? The fact that a particularly annoying cell of Avalanche was trying to murder Old Man Shinra? The fact there were mako-infused monsters roaming about under the plate? Nope, let's put the funding of a skilled agent down to keep an eye on the flower girl, who knows, the flowers might provide the answers and she can act as translator. Another sigh left him as he was read the same sentence on the monitor again for the fifth time. There was supposed to be paragraphs of this stuff. He was pretty sure there was a rookie somewhere that he could palm this off onto. Speaking of which.

"Hey, Elena!" A slight young woman with a perfectly manicured blonde bob whipped her head around at the sound of his voice. She bounced over. Eager to be of some use to the second in command no less. She was still too fresh in the game to have lost the enthusiasm for reports. Or maybe she just liked them, either way, "The Junon survey, you were there, right?"

She nodded "Yes sir," he rolled his eyes, "Reno, not sir, I ain't Tseng". She blushed at that. Reno was a betting man and would have put money on her having a soft spot for the human iceberg that Tseng embodied. A 'soft spot' being more like 'I can help with anything sir', he shuddered a bit. He did not need that image for today or any day.

"You fancy writing up the report, just let me know when it's ready, yeah?" it was more of an order than a question. Without waiting for an answer, he closed the document, yanked out the memory stick and handed it to her before sauntering out of the office and into the atrium, deciding to look for a coffee. After the office door had closed a few of the other Turks just smirked at her – the rookies always got the desk work. But that was ok, she thought, 'it's just a stepping stone to being allowed on real missions'. Returning to her desk and opening the document, she noticed that Reno had just typed one sentence 'Junon seems fine'. What a thorough report this was shaping up to be.

Rather than opting for staff room coffee or whatever was in the vending machine, Reno thought he'd treat himself. He was hardly in this building most of the time, may as well get a decent drink while he was there. Heading to the staff café on 30th floor, he pulled out his phone. His shoulder twinged in its socket, even after being on the end of a cure materia when he got in to work this morning. It reminded him - he hadn't got her number. Hadn't got her last name. He did know where she lived. Roughly. The road at least. But it'd be a bit fucking creepy to turn up to ask for her number. Or would it? He was having a full debate with himself before the barista asked for his order for the third time.

"Um, sir? What kind of coffee you would like?" a teenaged girl with huge glasses peered over the counter up to him. She looked terrified. Anywhere else and he'd probably just assume that it was her first day, but it wasn't just in the outside world that the Turks had an infamous reputation. The suits, though not dissimilar to the regular office workers here, were distinctive. He supposed the magrod hanging down from his belt didn't help.

"Huh, uh, medium black americano. There sugar and cream somewhere?" He tried to ease her mood with a smile. They weren't the bad guys. They just did… bad things sometimes. Best not to think about it and go down that road again. Just part of the job, just a part of the job.

"At the end of the bar, sir. It shouldn't be too long"

"Thanks" he returned to his inner debate, leaning against the wall and looking over the view of Midgar after he paid. Maybe a thank you card, and some small gift or something, he could turn up – it wouldn't be creepy, say thanks and maybe get her number somehow through that. It wasn't the worst idea he'd ever had. He added the sugar. Did he have time tonight – wait, would she be working tonight? He should've delved further when he was there. He'd just had the first sip of his coffee when his phone buzzed. He ignored it and added the cream. He could have a look to see if she had a record somewhere – he stopped stirring – no, definitely too creepy. His phone buzzed twice more. He gave in and checked the messages.

Mr Happy: New assignment. Office 30 mins. Need Rude also. [11:04am]

Mr Happy: Why is Elena working on your report? [11:05am]

Mr Happy: One sentence – really? [11:05am]

At least a new assignment might be something interesting. He should have known that Tseng would have caught up with Elena. He got the feeling that she was a 'to the letter and by the book' kind of person, personally and professionally. Why on earth she joined the Turks then…? Tossing that thought aside, he headed towards the elevator, already phoning his partner.

"Think you can make it back in half an hour?"

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought of him the next day. The whole situation seemed a bit odd after his colleague came in to take him home. She assumed he was taking him home – they didn't go straight to work from the house surely? She and Luke sat on the sofa after he'd left for a while afterwards trading theories as to where they worked and who they were.

"Maybe they're like security for a celebrity or something – oooh – that Elecro Love, Electra Light?, whatever they're called are touring, maybe it's from that!" Luke offered. Although Electric Life were doing a music tour in Midgar soon, Ava doubted it was that. It wouldn't need that much security surely.

Luke seemed to read her mind "Maybe they're putting on extra guys cause of the whole "Wutai is funding the enemy" anti-Shinra group stuff?" She hummed at the addition. It could be that. She didn't know any club bouncers that wore suits and drove motorbikes like the one she'd seen.

"Maybe they're undercover police" she mused out loud, cradling her mug in her hands. The tea had already gone cold from making it as they sat bouncing ideas off each other late into the night.

"Nah, firstly you wouldn't say you worked in 'security' if you were undercover police, too obvious, second, he's not investigating you, you're cleaner than cleaner, so he'd have just said he was a policeman" Luke answered decisively.

After an hour of further speculation, Ava announced she was heading to bed, leaving Luke to open his dating app for some late-night swiping. She hoped he'd have better luck than yesterday. Mind you, he wouldn't have been here to help with Reno if his date did turn up, she grabbed the silver lining.

She'd got this weekend off by a stroke of luck, they'd pulled enough people together to cover which was amazing considering the scenes last night. The break from work was much needed. She'd toyed with stepping back from the hospital and finding a family doctor's surgery she could work in, but those positions were hard to come by and the hospital was hard to leave – you were always needed. But one day, she promised herself, she'd make the switch. For now, she was headed to the supermarket for groceries. Her university friend's birthday was tomorrow, and she'd promised to make a cake, which she totally didn't forget about until this morning – promise.

While walking she passed by the spot where he'd been laid out on the tarmac. She realised she'd quite like to see him again.