28 minutes and 34 seconds after Reno had put down the phone, Rude walked into the conference room, the only evidence that he'd rushed back was the heavy breathing if you listened hard enough. The man was otherwise the picture of stoicism, suit still looking as freshly pressed as it had at 6am. On his right, Reno had sprawled himself across a sofa, his feet dangling off the end, scrolling through his phone. A slight sigh – at least he wasn't 'exerting himself' and was following medical advice regarding his injuries. Trust the redhead to get himself into a crash of some kind.

"Now you're here, we can begin – shut the door behind you." Tseng ordered. Friendly and welcoming, the boss was not, but he exuded quiet confidence and intelligence. Nothing escaped his notice – therein lay the reason he was the head of the Turks.

"Avalanche." He began, eyeing both men as Reno swung his legs down to listen more carefully, "There's a cell that is getting… more troublesome for public security." He gave them each a nondescript folder and gestured for them to look inside.

"Barrett Wallace – the leader of the Sector 7 cell – has been excluded from Avalanche's other activities for being too extreme in his views" his fingers steepled; Tseng continued "We believe that the cell's tactics are going to turn more violent in the near future."

They all took a second or two to look down at the man deemed too extreme for an eco-terrorist organisation. Not exactly the master of blending in – built like a mountain of muscle and with a gun for an arm, he shouldn't be too hard to spot in a crowd.

"So, we shut the cell down?" Rude suggested after a moment. 'Shut the cell down' being a euphemism for the members… suddenly disappearing in the night. Tseng shook his head, hands still steepled.

"Heidegger thinks the cell can be of some political use as long as their actions can be moderated. Observed. Predicted."

"What kinda political use?" Reno chipped in. He already had an idea – blame anything that goes slightly pear shaped on Avalanche and feed the narrative that Shinra was 'protecting its people' when it shut down the moderates too.

"Not for us to know. All we need to know is that we need to be aware of their movements" Tseng didn't meet Reno's gaze, instead looking down at a form on his desk as he signed it at the bottom. That was a signal not to ask any more questions. Reno let out a sigh a little more forcefully than he had intended. He flicked through the rest of the papers in the folder. Different faces looked up at him, different names drifted past "Benjamin Biggs", "Tifa Lockhart" ….

"You both need to get up to speed with this cell as soon as possible." He started to rise from his chair as he finished signing the form in his hand. Reno and Rude looked at each other. Of course, they'd heard of Avalanche before. A handful of little groups had popped up both inside and outside Midgar opposing the Shinra Electric Power Company's influence on the world and their use of mako energy. Some propaganda, posters, leaflets and graffiti could be found under the plate especially with a focus on 'Planetology' and 'life energy' – the sort of things that Reno just didn't have time for. Taking care of the planet was one thing – he was sure that humans weren't being the best caretakers for the world and moving away from coal and oil was surely a step in the right direction. The whole 'the life stream is the blood of the planet' idea was just too far-fetched for him to sign up to. Neither him nor Rude took it down whilst they were deployed to the slums, though. Removing it all and too quickly would make it seem that Shinra believed there was something in it. Better to let it fade and be taken down locally than interfere. Unless it got up to the plate, of course.

Reno knew the slums well. Too well, having spent his formative years from 9-16 in the Sector 6 slums – right next door to Wall Market. Him, his mother and his sister, Roxanne, were all platers 'fallen on hard times' – or that's what his mum told people. She didn't want the shame of telling people they'd lost the house because his father just upped and left one day, leaving them with nothing. The difference between platers and under-platers ('slum rats' to some people) was stark, back then and still now – and downright unfair. But he'd managed to be picked up by the Turks and bring his mum and Roxanne back to the plate with him, meaning he owed Shinra – not an enviable position, but it was better than owing Don Corneo… sort of.

Rude knew of Reno's background but never made a point of it, for which he was grateful. The snobbery of some people was breath-taking, although nothing that a magrod couldn't fix. He fiddled with it idly after Tseng had walked out of the room, leaving only him and Rude and the folders in front of them.

"Reckon we'll still clock out at 6?"

"Doubt it", Rude thumbed through the papers - every person profile had to be cross-referenced on the company system to gather as much background as possible - before looking back up at his partner, "You're back on tomorrow by the way." Reno just tilted his head and hummed – not quite sure what he was getting at. "You're minding the flower girl again tomorrow."

"Well, I dunno, I could still do with some more rest," he flashed his best shit-eating grin. He'd been given the all-clear for 'normal work', after a 24-hour rest period, having been loaded up with potions. Technically, he'd seen the Shinra doctor at 9:30am, so really, he couldn't start work the next morning until half 9… But there was no point lying to Rude about his recovery period. The guy probably checked the doctor's notes himself.

"She's expecting you in the morning" a simple statement, leaving no room for negotiation. Reno hummed in response, looking through the files, "You know anywhere close I can get a card and some chocolates or something?"

His partner looked up, surprised by the question, and then shook his head, "Nowhere in particular. There'll be a stationer somewhere nearby. I'll get my laptop to check these out," he gestured to the file and exited the room.

6pm came and went, the pair torn between the files and their screens as they tried to fill in the gaps. Although he wouldn't admit it, Rude hated office work just as much as Reno did. The remnants of snacks and half-drunk coffees littered the table. Neither of them was surprised with Tseng came in, still working, at 8, his afternoon entirely taken up by meetings. A delicate eyebrow raise came in response to the disarray in what was really his office rather than a team room but otherwise, he said nothing, not wanting to jeopardise the sight of Reno actually doing paperwork.

It was 10pm before either of them got out of the office, later than they had envisioned, but at least the groundwork was out of the way now. Just the actual surveillance work had to begin – light touch and unnoticed. Reno looked at the time on his phone – only the bars would still be open at this hour, and he didn't think any of them would be selling a "Thank You" card or any kind of gift that wasn't a bottle of beer. He'd have to try again tomorrow, somehow squeezing it in before he got to Aerith's.

Lemon cake – that's what her friend had asked for, so that's what she had set out to make. Already covered in flour, egg yolk dripping up her arms, it was safe to say she had yet to get used to using the hand mixer as opposed to literally mixing by hand. Apparently, the setting was too high? Ava didn't realise it had other settings other than 'on'. Luke was doing his best trying not to laugh, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

"I'm going back to doing this by hand – I didn't have any problems before!" she puffed out. The lemon juice had managed to find the smallest papercut she had on her hand and not swearing about it was a real achievement. The kitchen was hot from the oven pre-heating – Luke finally entered the baking crime scene and opened a window.

"So" he started.

"So?"

"How's it going then?" She answered his question with a glare. She was usually good at baking, but not so good at using the gadgets her family had insisted on buying her to "making cleaning up easier". Their own way of telling her she was 'messy', she supposed.

"There will be the greatest lemon cake of all time at the end of it!" she started mixing the flour, sugar, margarine and eggs together by hand after extracting the metal whisk of the electric mixer from the bowl. After folding in the lemon zest, she finally spooned the mixture into a waiting cake tin. Just the sugary, lemony drizzle to prep now once this thing was cooking.

"What's Ellie doing for her birthday then, just going round the house?"

"Yeah, we're all bringing something to eat – hence", she swept out her hands to gesture to the oven, "I said I'd do the cake."

"It gonna be a late one?"

"Don't think so, she's 6 months along now", Ava poured a copious amount of sugar into the lemon juice for the drizzle. He nodded his head in response. They hadn't mentioned their unintended guest since last night – it all seemed a bit odd, but he could tell Ava was a bit deflated. Luke had spent the night trying to look for a "Reno" on social media but came up with nothing, which was unheard of with such an unusual name. Luke could usually find people within half an hour tops, 'who needs spies or artificial intelligence when you've got me?' became a catch phrase. He could only come to one of three conclusions: either, one, there was a special leafy ingredient in Ava's brownies (probably not true, Ava was a goody-two-shoes), two, Reno was actually a ghost and their house had suddenly become haunted (also probably not true, even ghosts must own an iron or a hairbrush) or three, Reno didn't have social media (unbelievable for this day and age, but probably the most plausible explanation).

"Ever heard of gestational diabetes?" Luke side-eyed the bowl Ava was holding and promptly fled the kitchen as a sugary spoon being raised suddenly looked a little more like a weapon.