Another day, another dollar.

Yeah right.

Reno rolled over slowly, shutting his eyes against the glaring light of the sun. He felt grimy, dirty, greasy and disgustingly, all around unclean.

Big surprise.

He had spent the entire night in his suit. Again, not unusual.

He was hung over. Nothing new.

"Damn..." Reno moaned as a stray shaft of sunlight broke through his defenses and started pounding against his head. Great. The only thing he was missing now was-

"Reno? Reno!"

C'est la bloody vie.

As soon as the words stopped battering against the inside of his skull, Reno managed to crawl off of his bed and over to the door. By that time, whoever it was had started pounding on the door with their fist, adding to the growing percussion crescendo behind his temples.

"What?" Reno threw open the door and glared balefully out into the hallway. "What the hell do you-" He stopped dead.

"Good morning, Reno," T'seng said as he stepped inside the apartment. "Or should I say, 'good afternoon?'" The Turk leader raised an eyebrow as he took in the mess that was his employee.

"G-g-good morning, s-sir," Reno stuttered foolishly, feeling every bit like the idiot he looked like. "Sorry, sir."

"Mm." T'seng stepped over a pile of dirty clothing, narrowly missing a smashed brandy bottle on the kitchen threshold. It wasn't that the apartment was messy, as such, it was just...disorganized.

"Sorry about my absence, sir," Reno went on, running his fingers through his unruly red hair. "Overslept, I-" He stopped suddenly, finding himself unwilling to lie to the older man.

"I see. Save your breath. We both know this won't be the last time this happens, so don't make foolish promises."

"Yes, sir." Reno looked down at the ground, thoroughly chastened. T'seng's calm, Wutain features were impassive as they scanned his employee's face.

"You know, I trust, of the mission you, Rude and I are to undertake a week from now?"

"Yes, sir." Actually, he had completely forgotten until T'seng brought it up just then.

"Until that time, I don't want you going out on any other charges. You have official leave from now until next week."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Reno nodded briefly. He desperately wished for something, anything, that would stop the pounding in his head.

"And until that time, Reno, I want you to stay out of all bars, taverns and inns of any sort. If I find that you have had so much as a shot of alcohol before then, your position with ShinRa and the Turks will be seriously compromised."

"Yessir." Reno blinked, but gave no other outward sign of his astonishment. Inwardly, though...

"Good. I'll see you in a week. And Reno?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If you ever feel the need, don't hesitate to come talk to me. I will always find the time for you or any other Turk." With that surprising remark, T'seng turned and walked out the door.

"What the hell?" Reno stared blankly at T'seng's retreating back. He had met with the leader of the Turks only twice before, and this was certainly the -strangest--

"He cares about you."

"What? Shi-" Reno leaned back against the doorframe, trying to catch his breath. "Rude, man, you tryin' to kill me or something? Make some noise next time."

"..." A pair of black sunglasses followed Reno's gaze down the hall.

"What do you mean by that, anyway?" Reno asked.

"What I said." Rude adjusted his sunglasses and passed his eyes over Reno's expression. How could he explain that T'seng was like a father to them? That he held together the family known most commonly as the Turks? That he was all they had?

"Right, man." Reno shrugged it off and turned to re-enter his apartment. "Um- you don't happen to know of any way I could get rid of this headache, do you?" he asked as an afterthought.

"Yes." Reno looked at him expectantly. Inwardly, Rude smiled just the tiniest bit.

"Stay sober."