Reno walked through the room, looking it over critically. The Junon hotel was exactly the same as it had been the last time he stayed here, two and a bit years ago. He also swore that the sheets on the beds hadn't been changed since then. He picked a little disgustedly at a black sock plastered across the front of one of the dressers along with some old gum and graffiti. It smelled a little odd, and he was rather afraid that he remembered that too.
Moving to the front desk where Vincent was still standing waiting impassively, Reno turned to face the clerk. The young woman at the desk was busy filing her nails and missed the warning in the redheaded Turk's eyes. Rather too prominently, he set both hands on the desk and leaned forward.
"This is the best you've got?"
"Uhuh. Finest bed and breakfast in town."
"This is a joke, right?"
The girl flipped her hair coolly and continued to examine her hands. Slowly, Reno removed his fingers from the desk, and a red warning light began to flash at the back of Vincent's head.
Indifferently, he moved forward. Ever so casually but exactly, he laid ten gil on the desk, his red eyes meeting the girl's green ones in an intense stare that she had difficulty returning. He stood straight again, moving just slightly between Reno and the desk.
"Thank you for your trouble. We will be seeking lodgings elsewhere."
"Suit yourself. There's nowhere else to go, though." She shrugged, and looked away. Despite her seeming misgivings though, she eagerly palmed the money obviously believing neither would notice. Vincent did not reply.
He turned around to be semi-facing Reno, his back to the desk. Giving Reno only a very fleeting glance, he stepped aside before casually walking towards the dirty glass door leading back out into the rain-washed street. He did not wait, and was gone through the door before Reno stopped glaring at him.
With a sigh, Reno imagined setting remote mines around the perimeter of the building as he reluctantly followed Vincent out into the afternoon gloom. It was a nice mental image, but right about now it would only succeed in making him happy if Vincent were inside when he got to hit the detonator.
As the door jangled shut behind him, he turned on Vincent with some anger.
"What the hell was that about? Now where are we going to stay?"
Vincent, who was standing a little ways away surveying the mostly empty street, gave him a cold look.
"I thought that the room did not meet your standards?"
"Standards!? Hell! Do you know where I've slept!? I thought we could get the price down from its owner's ridiculously goddamn high horse."
Silence. Vincent did not seem particularly concerned, and Reno wondered for the thousandth time if Valentine had any grounding in reality at all. He hissed a breath through his teeth, trying to regain his cool.
"Look, Valentine. There are only so many dark holes in Junon. They all cost a hell of a lot of money. See? They tell you how much of a fortune they want you to fork over, you grudgingly pay the bill, and then you spend the night cursing them in your head. It's a system that works. If you don't pay, than you have nowhere to sleep except the gutter. Understand?"
"I know another place."
Reno looked skeptical.
"Uhuh. And how many times have you been here since I was born?"
Vincent turned to meet his eyes, his own gaze icy, like a cold fire. His cloak swirled slightly in the faint sea breeze, the dark sky giving everything a more ominous cast.
"Twice, if you must know."
With a last look up the street, he gestured in the opposite direction with his metal claw. It looked dull in the overcast light, but Reno knew better. Surprising him, he felt his throat clench, and he had to look away as he felt suddenly cold. When he looked back, Vincent had started unhesitatingly towards whatever destination he had in mind, apparently expecting the Turk to follow.
"This way."
Reno watched him disappear into the streets, staring at the retreating shadow that disappeared slowly into the newly creeping fog. Twice? He shook his head as he started after Vincent before he lost him entirely, smiling a little despite himself.
* * * *
The place Vincent led them to was definitely not what Reno was expecting. On the very outskirts of the city, seaward facing, it was a tall building done in red brick and cream colored stone. It stood much taller than many of the buildings surrounding it, as most of the larger businesses could be found closer to the center of the city. Still, it also managed to stand out simply by being in repair and relatively 'art' free. Dotted with large windows here and there and sporting a heavy maple wood door with no obvious signs, the building made Reno wonder.
The inside was everything the outside was, but even more so. Decorated with scarily elegant style for Junon, its coffee walls stretched up to meet twelve foot ceilings. The pale tiled floors rang underfoot as they came in and a large maple desk sat in front of an attractive mako fountain replica display. Still following Vincent, Reno stared about the entrance hallway, trying to get an understanding of the place.
At the desk, Vincent was greeted by a tall man with a wide smile and thinning hair. His dark eyes were bright, and a reedy grin of recognition broke out on his face as soon as he saw them approach.
"Mister Valentine! We haven't seen you for a while!"
Vincent nodded slightly, his face pale under the overhead lights.
"…I have taken up residence in Midgar."
"Well it's wonderful to have you again. We see too few regulars coming through the door these days." His voice had a note of wistfulness in it, though he appeared to have to shuffle busily through some papers on the desk. "I expect you do not have your key with you?"
"No."
"Well, well. Not a problem." He searched around for another moment. "Ah, here we are." Smiling genially, he produced a slim folder from a pile of many identical ones and drew out a sheet of paper from inside.
"If you'll just sign here, sir." Taking the pen, Vincent signed the page with a fluid hand movement, before setting the pen down in front of him. The man positively beamed as he collected them up again, holding the paper almost reverentially.
"It truly is an honor to have you here, sir. My father told me so much about you. I only got to meet you briefly last time you were here, if you remember, only long enough to update your file. Junon was rather in a state then, with Meteor and all, so of course it's no wonder…" He chattered on as he extracted a set of silver keys from one of his many drawers, passing them to Vincent without stopping for an instant.
"I expect you'll be wanting an extra key for your guest, so I've included two here, although if one of them is no longer needed please return it to the front desk. If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask…"
Vincent took the keys with a nod of thanks before moving towards Reno. Easily, he slipped one of the keys off the silver ring before throwing it gently to Reno, who caught it reflexively. For no reason he could ever discern, the arc the key cut through the air as it turned and shone under the lights stayed in Reno's memory for a very long while. He turned it over in his hands, running his fingers over the teeth just once so that he knew he could identify it in the dark if need be.
Pocketing the key, Reno followed Vincent over to the small central elevator of the building, noting that the inside was done with marble. As the doors closed in front of them and Vincent chose the sixth floor, Reno had to ask.
"What the hell is this place?"
"Somewhere to be if you do not want to be found."
"Not found? It's in plain sight! It's three stories higher than anywhere else around and looks like it should be in the classiest neighborhood of Costa del Sol! How does that not stand out!?"
"…Have you ever seen it before?"
Reno frowned.
"The building's obviously new. How could I have seen it before?"
The slight hint of amusement on Vincent's face made him wonder.
"New? I would guess that it is over sixty years old. Neither has it changed much since the first time I saw it."
"Uhuh."
Vincent was only silent, and Reno couldn't hold back the irritated jab.
"I know this city, and I know the people who live here. It's been my job to notice everything and anything for as long as I care to remember. You're lying."
Vincent's ever so slight smile said all he needed to say.
* * * *
The apartment was large and beautifully furnished. Stepping inside, Reno had been taken by complete surprise. Even the large hall downstairs was nothing compared to this.
Spacious to put it mildly, the sprawling complex was composed of six main rooms. Done in rich hardwood and plush cream carpets, the 'apartment' seemed warm and inviting, even though little light shone through the giant front window. Dark red drapes hung over all the windows, and Reno pulled them back with an element of incredulity. The furnishings looked expensive, in several cases priceless, and Reno had a good idea of what he was talking about. Everything from the kitchen sink to the cupboard handles was beautiful, and he stared first at one thing, then another.
There were three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a main sitting room, the kitchen, an office, and an open room leading in from the doorway and connecting the other parts of the apartment. Pricey leather couches and armchairs stood here and there while exquisite paintings hung on every other wall and even more books than Reno remembered being in Vincent's Midgar house were everywhere. He continued to stare.
"…Gods. Does this place take up an entire floor!?"
Vincent's tiny answering smile fielded the question for him once again, but he decided to reply anyway.
"Very nearly."
"And you own this place!?"
Vincent's faint smile of pride was gone as quickly as it had come, and he looked away towards the outfacing window.
"Yes."
"Holy fuck." It didn't seem appropriate, but he could think of nothing else to say. Vincent continued to stay silent, apparently taking in the apartment for himself as well. It had been a very long time since he'd last set foot in here, though it looked exceptionally well cared for and rather updated. He doubted that even if he searched he would be able to turn up any evidence the place had been looked after. Even though some things were different, it brought back many memories.
Reno turned slowly, deciding suddenly despite the fireplace near the window that he didn't want to take off his jacket.
"I'd love to sound intelligent, but only the questions 'why' and 'how' come to mind."
Vincent ran his eyes over the fireplace and the sofas and the shelves before answering.
"…It was a long time ago. It… does not matter anymore." Hearing his shoes click softly on the wood floor, he stepped carefully over towards a picture next to the entrance leading into the kitchen. He gently raised a hand to the thin gold frame before straightening it ever so slightly. Yes, he had a new photograph to hang, but what to do with this one was still beyond him.
"It was… for the future."
He slid his dark shoes off in one movement, descending almost hurriedly around the corner and into the next room. Out of sight, he ran his good hand over the cool countertop, feeling the stone under to his fingertips almost fondly as he passed by. Yes, the place raised many memories, alright. Neither did he want to have to stand in a room with a Turk wearing a blue jacket while they came to him. This had been a secret place for dreams, and although the time for that was long past, it still felt strange to be here not by himself. There were certainly too many things about the Turk, too many ironies that made it all that much worse. It was not something to dwell on.
Back in the open hall, Reno moved quietly to check out the picture Vincent had fixed, and he gazed with only a vague comprehension dawning. It was a woman, framed on the wall, sitting and smiling a very pretty smile while her chestnut brown hair fell about in ringlets and her violet eyes gazed out. She wore a dark smoky dress that offset here eyes and fell in pools around her feet. It looked like a corporate event; Reno recognized the reception room all right, and he could see the faint outline of another person standing to the far right of the shot. Silently, he thought.
"Choose any room you wish. It matters little to me." Vincent's voice sounded unusually loud and harsh in the large, empty apartment.
He stood, alone in the kitchen, staring up at the ceiling, his hands resting on the table. He remembered sitting here, like this, before. He did not dare look down because he knew the picture would not be the same.
"You… have a key. Use it as you will."
And with that he fled into the darkness of the study where he would not have to face the coldly, and accurately guessing eyes of the Turk, and neither would he have to think. He closed and locked the door behind him, leaving Reno at something of a loss, still in the hallway, wondering just what the hell he was supposed to do now.
* * * *
Evening came and went, and the hours trickled by slowly. Trapped inside the seemingly invisible building, all Reno felt was a building sense that he should be doing something. As he watched the last of the light disappear from the sky through the window he felt all the edginess and tension of enforced waiting come back with full force. Down there somewhere in the dark streets was a place he had to be, whether it knew it or not, and the fact that he was so close now wore away at his patience.
After midnight, he decided he could wait no more, and having seen no further sign of Valentine he resolved to leave, find someone, do something. Reality was not long around the corner, however, and with growing frustration he sat back down again and tried to focus his concentration on anything at all. He considered finding the desk clerk and asking him some questions about the place, but decided against it due to the hour. He supposed the questions would probably not be welcome ones, and at this time of night it was unlikely that any questions at all would qualify as welcome.
A quarter after one he realized how unprofessional he was being, and the thought forced a crooked smile. He was acting like a damned rookie, alright, and although the irony was really sort of funny, this was no time to be losing it. Now more than ever he had to stay together and do whatever had to be done. Right. Of course, easier said than done. Still, he closed his eyes and thought back to his training days, nine years ago, and just remembering helped a lot. He forced himself to focus on remembering the different techniques his then-current boss had taught him to deal with stress before a mission.
Finally, around two, he finally fell into one of the beds in a room he liked best because it was closest. He needed to be awake tomorrow, but that wouldn't be a problem. He could run on no sleep if necessary and still not show it for up to four days. He was tired though, he realized as his head hit the pillow, and he shrugged off his jacket before slinging it over the side of a nearby chair. His shirt followed momentarily, but he got no further because by then he was asleep.
Reno did dream that night, although he did not remember anything except darkness.
When he finally awoke in the morning, it was nearing seven and he felt much better. The weird nervousness he'd felt the night before was completely gone, replaced by an equally strange optimism and the familiar quiet calm he felt before he started any job.
He considered his shirt gravely for a minute or two before deciding to ask Vincent if he had one he could borrow. He also resolved to find someone who made shirts that didn't rip as soon as you got shot, so help him. He hoped he wouldn't need it. Maybe later this afternoon once everything had been settled he could look around. Because, of course, everything would definitely be all finished by then, and tied up in a neat little package. He'd find out where Rude and Elena were, maybe hurt some of the people who'd put them there, and then life would go back to normal. Oh yes, it was shaping up to be a fine day.
Outside, the sun had finally come out, although it looked like the day planned to be more or less overcast again. At least the cloud cover had thinned a little and it was possible to tell morning from night. Outside of his room, Reno discovered one of the two bedroom doors shut and the other still wide open. Grinning a little to himself, he decided to do a quick raid before Valentine woke up.
The unoccupied room was much the same as the one he'd slept in, although perhaps a little bigger. A locked chest against the back wall was the only thing that held Reno's interest, however. Still smirking, he easily picked the lock with a pin he found nearby before opening it. The contents mostly froze his smile, though.
Inside, perfectly folded was a navy blue jacket with matching pants and white shirt that looked as if they'd been worn once, if ever. Valentine's spare change of clothes he reasoned automatically, if a little darkly. Then, another part of his brain added, at least now he couldn't doubt how old this place was.
His hands suddenly cold, Reno replaced the jacket quickly. Better to make this quick, since he'd already come this far. Hurriedly lifting the familiar suit, he discovered several shirts underneath that also looked like they were brand new before pulling out a black one from near the top. He realized, feeling the self-satisfied smirk come back again, that the shirt was real silk and he wondered what Vincent would think when he saw him wearing it. Closing the trunk again before relocking it, the suit flashed by his eyes once more and he decided maybe he didn't want to know after all.
The shirt fit perfectly, and he smiled as he caught his reflection in a mirror. It didn't look much like him, although the battered blue jeans helped a lot. Still, he had an image to keep and didn't want to disappoint whatever horrible things Valentine might think of him. Quickly, he unbuttoned the top two buttons and made sure the silk shirt hung loose over top of the jeans. He took a last look, and undid the third button for good measure before smiling again. Much better.
Now there was the question of breakfast. As he walked towards the kitchen, Reno reflected on the fact that breakfast made everything better. He bet even Valentine wouldn't begrudge him the shirt if there was breakfast involved. The problem, however, was getting said breakfast. Reno was far from modest and knew he was a hell of a cook, although in the past his culinary repertoire had largely been used to catch whoever he'd been dating. Not nice, not really, but honest. Besides, there was the fact that he had no idea in the slightest where Vincent kept anything in his kitchen. Hell, he doubted there was anything there in the first place. They hadn't brought anything in, and he was pretty certain Vincent hadn't been here in a while.
No matter. He could make do with whatever was there. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, Reno swung open an oddly modern-looking fridge and glared half-heartedly at its undeniable complete and utter emptiness. The freezer was the same, and he closed it with righteous annoyance before starting on the cupboards.
It was several curses and thumps later that he finally came to terms with the fact that there really was no food. Sheer genius, Valentine. They could both starve, and then they certainly wouldn't have to worry about missing people or mysterious letters! Oh yes, of course it made sense. Definitely Valentine worthy logic, he decided darkly. Whatever the case, there was nothing for it. Reno rather doubted anyone would deliver to this place, so he considered his options as he continued to unconsciously scan the apartment for ideas.
He was contemplating the existence of a small corner breakfast café he'd seen on his way here when he left the kitchen and began to head back around the corner. He didn't realize there was anything there until he walked into it, reacting instantly.
"Geez, fuck!"
He started back violently, as did Deth.
Reno stared at the boy, as the boy stared back, his eyes wild. It took a moment for what had happened to register on the boy's face, and he stared around him, stunned. Reno looked rather surprised himself.
"Deth? That you, kid?"
"Reno…?"
The boy's bright white hair looked tussled and wind blown, his dark eyes reflecting only the complete confusion as to where he was or what in hell's name was going on.
"Holy shit, kid. I'm the least likely person I know to have a heart attack and you just almost gave me one. What are you doing here? Did you get in last night?"
Deth stared around him for another minute before shaking his head.
"No… I think I only just got here."
"What?"
"Umm… Reno? Where is 'here' exactly?"
He looked scared, and Reno began to wonder seriously if maybe that wasn't a good idea. He decided he needed to repeat himself.
"What?"
Slowly, Deth held out a hand. He was even paler than last time Reno had seen him, and it was obvious he was shaking. Suddenly feeling another one of those weird waves of compassion he couldn't justify, Reno realized he couldn't feel anything dangerous, not anywhere. If there was something – besides Deth being a very long way from where he should have been – his nerves would have been screaming by now. Equally slowly, Reno took the boy's hand and held it tightly.
"Hey, kid." His voice was softer now, and he could hear something from near the bedrooms, which probably meant Vincent was awake. He smiled at Deth, forcing away his own speculations and worries.
"You're gonna be fine. You're in Vincent's apartment in Junon." Which I have no idea how you found… "It's gonna be alright," he repeated.
Deth stared at Reno, who had knelt down to the same height. He wondered vaguely if he was hurting Reno's hand by holding it so tightly, but Reno hadn't said anything. He was suddenly intensely grateful for it.
"Reno…"
"Yeah?"
Without warning, the kid was suddenly wrapping his arms around Reno and holding on to his – Vincent's – shirt as tightly as he could.
"I'm so glad to see you."
He realized the kid was crying, and Reno's eyes widened slightly. Deth had seemed like a really together kid when he'd met him before. What in hell had happened to make the fourteen-year old react like this? He had a strange feeling that whatever it was, he had to find out very soon. There was a good possibility that he didn't want to know, but the cheerful optimism was beginning to slide. Things were bad; he knew it, Vincent knew it, now Deth would almost certainly know it. The only choice was to retaliate with all the 'not good' he possessed. And hope. A lot.
He saw Vincent come around the corner, his long cape missing and his bandana gone. His eyes were questioning, worried, and when he saw Reno with Deth it changed nothing. Reno wished very sincerely he had something to say to explain it, or to make it better, but he really, really didn't.
He noted that Vincent might not comment on his shirt now, but the idea seemed drastically less funny as a terrified kid separated from his family, friends and everything he knew cried his heart out on the shoulder of one of the two people who had absolutely no idea how to comfort him.
A/N – Well, to say my plan didn't work is putting it mildly. I only managed to get more behind. Ick. On the bright side, my kitty had kittens and I now have four kittens in my room and not a whole lot of sleep. It's okay; they're cute. I forgive them. As to the story, well, I'm still aiming to catch up and I'm hoping like hell (thanks Reno) that I can post two chapters on Saturday to make it up. Thanks for your patience everybody. And by the way, I love Vincent's apartment. ^_^