The three Turks looked around the town where they were staying. They were here on routine business; check the town, search for rebels, check the reactor and get going again.

The eldest, a tall and lean man with dark hair, looked back over his shoulder to his subordinates. "No screwing around, no messing up. Got it?"

The other two glanced at each other and nodded. This was their first; and hopefully last; assignment with this man who had been code named Taipan.

Taipan strode into the town. He was what any sensible Turk aimed to be. Calm, cool, collected, efficient.

Deadly.

The townsfolk stepped aside to let them pass as they walked to the inn. Taipan stood at the desk and looked, the girl hurried over with a smile on her face.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Taipan smiled, and the girl smiled wider. Kali, the second in command, rolled her eyes. She'd seen many women; and men; go stupid over a smile like that in her time.

"We made bookings last week. Party of three."

The warmth shown in the smile didn't reach his voice. The girl seemed happily oblivious to that as she gave him the key. "Third room on the left, I'll have someone bring up your bags."

"No need." He pocketed the key and picked up his suitcase, walking away. Conversation over, just like that. No more to be said.

"Come."

The other two picked up their cases and followed their boss up to the first floor and to the small, dingy room that would be home for the next week or two.

The other two Turks were called Kali and Bran. Both were experienced enough to be valuable, and inexperienced enough to be aware of their short comings. They took the beds nearest the door, leaving the solitary bed by the window for their superior. He had already gone out again, telling them to set up and contact base to let them know they had arrived.

Bran was setting up the communications equipment while Kali tried to find the authorization codes that were somewhere in the mess of papers.

"Hey Kali, what do you think so far?"

"Of what?" She looked up at Bran. He was a big man, broad shouldered, heavy set, with a bristling blonde buzz cut and small mirrored shades.

"Of our boss, what else?"

She shrugged. "I can understand why they call him Taipan instead of his actual name."

Bran snorted and dumped the transmitter on the window sill. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He's... cool. Not as in fashionable, I mean he's frozen. There's no emotion showing there at all."

"I guess so. He's a bit of a legend, hey?"

Kali nodded and triumphantly pulled out the codes. "Yeah, among the people who even know he exists. They say he killed his own family, just to make sure that they never revealed where he came from."

Bran shivered. "Man, that's cold. I'm not sure he even has feelings."

Kali snickered. "He has feelings," she assured Bran. "He keeps them in check. He used to be sweet with one of the scientists from J division."

bran looked stunned. "You have to be kidding."

"No way. This guy broke his heart, if rumours are true. That's why he went so cold."

"Less speculation and more work."

They both turned to see Taipan leaning in the doorway. Bran looked mortified and quickly went back to the transmitter. Kali coloured and looked away, suddenly silent.

True to his reputation, Taipan wasn't angry. He wasn't anything but calmly; and frighteningly; dispassionate.

Bran stood straight. "Transmitter set up, sir."

Kali handed over the papers. "Codes, sir."

Taipan raised an elegant eyebrow. "Did I not tell you to call it in, Wallace?"

She nodded and looked down. "Yes, sir."

He moved past them to his suitcase and flicked it open. Everything was neat and ordered. He pulled out a clip of bullets and pocketed them. The shoulder holsters he wore couldn't be seen under the cut of his suit, but Kali knew they were there. Two pistols, always loaded, one on his ankle for safety. She knew everything she could about this guy.

He pulled out a rifle and deftly assembled it, checking it over, and finally looking up at her. "Are you going to call or not?"

She looked away. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

She called headquarters, just as Taipan left, leaving the disassembled rifle in his suitcase.

The streets were noisy enough in this tiny township, but people quieted as he passed. Some stared; with a twisted reverence or fear, he didn't care.

So long as they stayed out of his way, it didn't really matter.

He sat down at a table in a cafe and the waiter hurrying over to take his order. Straight black coffee; potently strong; no sugar.

The waiter left him, and he was alone to watch the people as they moved about. Children played, adults chatted, the world moved past him.

A yell caught his attention. He glanced over to see a fat and surly looking man grabbing a child by the arm roughly. His gaze narrowed on the boy, who yelled again, trying to free himself from the adult's grip.

People around him turned away, pretending not to hear the child's scream.

Enough was enough. He was not a cruel man, nor was he powerless. He stood up, moving silently to the fat man. A quick glance revealed a priest's collar around the thick neck. He straightened himself and coughed softly.

The man looked at him and glared. He was either very brave or very stupid. He was betting it was the latter.

"Let the boy go."

The priest stared at him for a second. "Go away. This is not your business."

"It is in public, I make it my business." He looked down at the child, huge blue eyes staring up at him.

"He must be punished. He stole from the church."

He knelt down to look the child in the eye. The boy stared back defiantly, bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

"Did you?"

"No." He tugged to get away again. "My plane fell in his backyard, and the rotten ol' man wouldn't give it back to me."

He turned his gaze up to the priest. "Well?"

"It was in the gift box, for the unfortunate children."

The boy stamped his foot angrily. "Yer a big fat liar! My pa gave me this before he died last year!"

The priest raised his hand to the boy, and that was when the Turk flew into action.

Two seconds passed, a snap was heard, and the priest was clutching his wrist. The boy looked at the priest and up at the man who had deftly snapped his wrist.

"Never strike a child, especially one that is not yours," he said quietly. He turned to the child and held out his hand. "Did he hurt you?"

The boy shook his head, holding out his arm. "Jus' red. Nothin' what won't heal."

The Turk smiled slightly, reaching out to ruffle the blonde locks. He picked up the plane the boy had dropped and gave it to him. "Go home, and stay away from the church."

"Okay." The boy beamed at his plane. "Thanks mister!"

He ran off down the street, arms stretched out wide; the trauma of the last few minutes already fading from his young mind.

The Turk stood up and strolled back to his seat, accepting his coffee gratefully and sipping at it.

Kali watched as the door opened. It was late; well past one in the morning; and her boss was only just coming in. She feigned sleep as he silently moved past her bed, pulling off his jacket and shoulder holsters, laying them on the bedside table. He undressed as far as she could hear and slipped into his bed, all without stirring the sleeping Bran once.

She shifted in her bed, wondering where he had been for so long.

Soft breathing was all that broke the silence. With a sigh she rolled over and tried to sleep again.

Morning broke, the sun streaming over the hills of the area. Kali stirred early, sat up and rubbed her sleep mussed eyes.

Taipan sat at the table, sipping at a cup of juice, reading the morning paper. His hair was immaculately brushed, sliding over one deep brown eye; his leather finger less gloves gleaming in the early morning light.

"Good morning Wallace. How are you?"

She slid back to sit against the backboard, pushing back her braids. "Well, sir."

He nodded, still not looking up from the paper. "I'm going out today to watch the town. I want Lockhart to check the reactor, he knows all the technicalities of doing so. Chase up those leads on that terrorist group, I want confirmation or proof negative by tomorrow night."

"Yes, sir," she muttered. Taipan stood up, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and tugging on his jacket. She noticed that he was wearing both guns, despite the peaceful air of the township. "Fully armed, sir?"

He turned to glare at her. "Always fully armed, Wallace. Never forget that."

She nodded as he left. "Yes, sir."

He walked down the street again, same street, same people. Different tone. Any respect was filled with fear, as though grateful to him but terrified at the same time.

It suited him.

He looked around and sat at the same cafe. He looked relaxed, he looked at ease.

He had never been relaxed in his life, and wouldn't be until death forced it on him.

The waiter came over; he ordered the same; and then the man left again. Quiet talk filled his ears, talk that he quickly sorted out, trying to place words, key phrases, sort out the hidden meaning.

"Hey, mister!"

He looked up surprised as the small blonde boy came running down the street. The battered wooden plane was still clutched in one hand, and he wore the same grubby clothes.

He idly wondered who looked after the boy.

The child skidded to a halt next to him. "Hi." He said quietly.

He smiled again, twice in two days, and patted the chair next to him. "Hello again."

The boy clambered onto it, putting his plane down on the table carefully. "I wanna say thank you. You were real nice to me."

He inclined his head. "No need, he had no right to strike you."

The boy just looked confused.

"Adults should not hit children."

The boy stuck out his chest. "'m not a kid. I'm nearly eight!"

The Turk half smiled, nearly laughed. "Of course you're not. Since you are so grown up, how about you introduce yourself to me?"

The boy stuck out a grubby hand, wiped it on his trouser leg, and stuck it out again. "'M Cid."

"My name is Taipan, Cid."

Cid laughed. "Taipan's not a real name. What's yer real name? Yer reeeally name."

He blinked. "What does it matter? A name is just something to call someone by. Everyone calls me Taipan."

The blonde swung his legs and stared at his plane. "Did yer mum call you that?"

That stopped him short. "Well, no. Probably not. I don't remember."

The boy watched as the waiter brought over the coffee, stared back at the table. Taipan stopped the waiter before he went. "Cid, would you like a drink?"

The boy beamed and nodded. "Chocolate milkshake?" He asked hopefully.

Taipan nodded. "You heard the boy."

The waiter disappeared back in to the kitchen. Cid bounced on his seat. "Don't you remember your mum?"

"No."

"I don't remember my mum. Or my dad. They went away when I was really little and never came back."

Taipan looked at the boy. "Who do you live with?"

"My Aunty." The boy beamed widely. "She's a whore!"

Taipan nearly dropped his mug, only just holding in his surprise. "Really? Where did you learn that?"

"Fat man Thompson," Cid scowled and rubbed his arm. "He's mean. Not like you."

Taipan blinked slowly. "What makes you think I'm nice?"

"You helped me, so you're nice." Cid reached up as the milkshake was brought over. "Besides, you have a nice smile, so you must be nice."

Taipan watched the boy for a moment as he struggled to reach his drink. He was so simple, so sweet. So innocent. "That makes me nice?"

"Yep." The boy knelt up, trying to reach the straw again. He eventually got it in his mouth and drank happily for a few moments. "So, what's yer really real name?"

Taipan smiled. "It's a secret, so you can't tell anyone else. You can promise me that?"

Cid nodded. "Are you a secret agent?"

"Sort of. I have to learn things, and no one can know my real name."

"I can tell you things!" Cid exclaimed happily. "Aunty Beth hears lotsa things, and she tells me. Sometimes I can hear it from the other room."

Taipan smiled and encouraged Cid, in low tones, to tell him what he knew.

The boy happily told him everything.

Taipan stepped into the hotel room. Neither of the other two agents were around just now; good thing too, since they were meant to be out working.

He pulled off his jacket and stepped into the bathroom, taking a change of clothes with him. He carefully laid his guns aside where they could be grabbed from the shower, then stripped and threw the clothes onto the counter.

He rubbed his head and grimaced, turning to view the long scar that curved over his shoulder. From his last mission, the retarded scientist had screwed up and hit him instead of the attacker.

Though, he wasn't entirely sure that that had been an accident on the part of Professor Hojo.

He stepped into the shower and closed his eyes, felt the hot water pushing his hair from his face. He felt good.

He felt clean.

He quickly washed and rinsed his hair, scrubbing over his body with total efficiency. He stepped out and dried off, pulled on his pants and gun holsters.

There was a knock on the door.

He frowned and glared at it. Another knock.

"Mr Not Really Taipan? Are you in there?"

He walked over and opened the door, staring down at the boy. "Cid?"

Bright blue eyes looked up at him and the boy smiled. "Hi Mr Not Taipan!"

He raised a dark eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

He held out one childishly chubby hand, clutching a piece of paper. "It's from my Aunty Beth. She says that she's real grateful because you helped me, and she wants you to come around so she can thank you."

Taipan could well imagine what that would entail.

"Cid, can you tell... oh never mind. Come in and shut the door. I'll write a letter for your Aunt. You have to give it to her, do you understand, Cid?"

Cid nodded. "'m not stupid."

"I did not mean to imply that you are."

The boy looked at the all the equipment, at the guns and then at Taipan's back. "Ooh, neat. How'd you get that?"

He looked over his shoulder as he pulled out his fountain pen and some writing paper. "I was cut with a machete."

Cid's eyes were wide. "Did it hurt?"

"Yes."

The child seemed surprised by the answer but held his tongue for once. He sat down on a bed, unerringly on Taipan's, and bounced slightly. "What's all this stuff?"

"Very expensive, Cid."

"What's it do?"

"Many things. Most of it is radios."

"Radios to where? Do you broadcast music?"

"No."

"Are those real guns?"

"Yes," Taipan muttered. He signed the letter and folded it up, sliding it into an envelope. He looked over at Cid. "What is your Aunt's full name?"

Cid scratched his head for a moment. "Um, Beth'ny Highwind."

He scratched the name down and blew on the ink to dry it.

"Have you ever shot someone?"

"Yes."

"Did you kill him?"

Taipan turned to the child again. "Would I scare you if I said yes?"

"Nope. My Aunty Beth says some people deserve to die. I don't know if I like that though."

"I've killed."

Cid shrugged, eyes wide again. "I know. You avoided answerin' at first."

Taipan dismissed it and handed the boy the letter. "Give this to your aunt."

"Okay, Mr Not Taipan."

"Why do you call me that?"

Cid grinned. "'cause it ain't yer name. Not yer really real name."

"Call me Taipan. It is enough."

Cid beamed again and bounced over to the door. "Goodbye, Mr Not Taipan!"

Taipan glared at the boy as he disappeared.

It was late. Taipan sipped at his water and watched as his two subordinates came in. Wallace sat down and shook out her braids, Lockhart slumped down on his bed and yawned. "That was rough. What do they feed those damn things up on the mountain?"

Taipan looked out of the window. It was dark, but he could see a small figure running through the streets, towards the inn.

A small blonde figure.

He stood up and walked out, closing the door on his two confused but utterly exhausted compatriots. He made no noise as he walked downstairs, getting there just as Cid came in through the doors.

Taipan froze.

Cid's face was black down one side, blood running from his ear. He limped on one leg, but he was staunchly trying not to cry, even as he saw Taipan. "Mr Taipan."

No one was around. He moved forwards and knelt down, reaching out to the little boy. "What happened, Cid? Tell me what happened."

"Fat man..... he hurt Aunty Beth...." the boy sniffed slightly and his bottom lip trembled. "So I hit him and hit him and he hit me and I felt giddy, and he said things, and I can't hear proper."

Taipan pulled him close, not minding the blood on his suit. "Where is he?"

The boy didn't answer, and Taipan realised he wasn't hearing a thing. He cursed and held the boy at arm's length. "CID?"

The boy looked at him and blinked. "Yeah?"

"TAKE ME TO YOUR HOUSE," he said loudly and clearly.

Cid nodded, still looking dazed. Footsteps behind him told him that Lockhart had come down to see what was going on. "Boss?"

"Local whore has been assaulted, the boy was attacked as well."

"What business of ours is it?" Lockhart scratched his head. He felt angry, in a sleepy way, but he'd never seen Taipan actively angry before.

"ShinRa does not condone assault, especially against children. That includes Turks actively stopping violence." He stood up and picked up the boy, who clung to his neck. "Get Wallace, follow me there."

Lockhart blinked and looked upstairs as Taipan strode out into the street, the little boy wrapped in his jacket and nestled against his side.

He ran up, screaming for Wallace to grab the guns.

Taipan was still holding the crying boy against him as he approached the house. He put the child on the ground, looking into the tear filled blue eyes. "Cid?"

There was rain starting. Cid looked up at Taipan with a lost gaze. Taipan sighed, pointed at Cid, pointed behind the fence, then at himself and the house.

With a tiny, fearful nod Cid scurried behind the fence, peering between the slats.

Taipan walked over to the door and knocked, loudly. He heard faint noises from inside, and then the door opened, revealing Father Thompson. His wrist was in a bandage and scowl graced his features, one that faded to fear as he saw who stood there.

"Where's the woman?"

"She's asleep." Thompson looked around. "What do you want?"

"I want to see her, alive and well."

Thompson tried to protest, but Taipan had pushed past. He was not an emotional man, but the anger virtually rolled off him as he strode to the kitchen, spotting the pool of blood forming from under the door.

A not unattractive woman; at least he imagined she was once; lay on the floor. Her face was pulp, her eyes closed.

She might have been alive, but he doubted it.

As he turned, he felt pain down his arm. Staunchly, he held in a cry, good arm grabbing the gun from the shoulder holster, rolling sideways, bringing the weapon to bear.

Three shots, one through either shoulder, one to the gut.

The door was pushed open as Wallace and Lockhart ran in, weapons drawn. Taipan looked at them, nausea rising in him. "Arrest him."

His two subordinates looked at each other. Lockhart grabbed the injured man whilst Wallace ran to Taipan, who slid against the wall. "Sir? Are you okay?"

"Yes." He could feel something burning through his veins, clouding his vision. "Get the child, make sure he's okay."

She nodded, eyes worried, and ran outside to where Cid sat. Gingerly, she picked him up, holding him close, watching tears getting lost in the rain that streaked his face. He kicked against her, small fists hitting her shoulders. "No! I want Aunty Beth! Mr Taipan?! Aunty Beth?! Beth!"

Wallace patted his head awkwardly, pulling him against her shoulder. He continued to struggle weakly, sobbing and coughing. "Beth... I want Aunty Beth..."

Lockhart came outside with Taipan, who was staunchly walking alone despite the blood running over his arm from under his hand. Cid renewed his struggles until Wallace put him down on the ground.

The boy ran over to Taipan, grabbing his leg and clinging on. "Where's Aunty Beth, Mr Taipan? I want my aunty."

Taipan knelt down, eyes going hazy for a moment. Wallace stepped closer, not sure what she should do right now.

"Cid? This is Wallace." He shook his head at the boy's confusion. He pointed to Wallace and nodded, gently pushing Cid towards her. "Wallace, get him warm, dry, medically cleared and tell him that his aunt's in the hospital. Write if need be." He looked at her. "You make sure that he is fine."

She nodded and picked up Cid again. He didn't resist, just cuddled into her slightly, still watching Taipan.

Slowly, the senior Turk stood up, took three steps to the gate and collapsed on the ground, blood staining the grass black.

The light knock at the door made Taipan look up from his report. The nurses were far more decisive and Wallace and Lockhart would be hesitant.

"Come in?"

The door cracked open to reveal bright blue eyes, sparkling mischievously and a grubby face. Taipan smiled slightly, lowering his paperwork. "Come in, Cid; close the door."

Cid carefully closed the door and bounced over to the bed, clambering up onto the chair. He held out a small bunch of flowers, all obviously wild and handpicked. "Here. This is ter say thank you fer helpin' me 'n' Aunty Beth."

Taipan took the flowers and put them in his water jug, indifferent to the vase that kept them alive. "Thank you, Cid. How are you feeling?"

"My leg's all better, and my ears don't hurt. Even the bruises went, see?" He leant in to let Taipan see his unmarked face. "They gave me candy while I waited for the healer."

"Did they?" The Turk shifted slightly as Cid sat down on the edge of the bed, little legs kicking back and forth idly. "Thompson has been arrested. He will not be back."

"Good. He's a bad man."

"Yes, he is." Taipan nodded slowly.

"You're a good man. You're ShinRa, ain't yer?"

The dark haired man nodded. "Yes. I suppose so."

"I want ter be part of ShinRa, then I can be a good person and help people too."

"Cid, being a good person has nothing to do with being in ShinRa." The words came easily, and that startled Taipan more than anything. "You are a good boy, and you will be a good man. Join ShinRa because you want to."

Cid nodded solemnly, and Taipan wondered if the boy had ever had a male role model before. "I wanna fly. Do ShinRa have planes?"

"Yes. They have an extensive air fleet." Taipan closed his eyes and flexed his hand slowly. "When you are older; if you do well at school; you can join the air academy."

Cid bounced and nodded. "Will you be my boss, Mr Not Taipan?"

"No. Turks are separate. We don't work under anyone's orders but the President's."

"Ooh. Sounds important. Are you staying here?"

Cid's voice was so full of hope, his eyes shone, and Taipan knew how badly Cid wanted him to say that his team would be staying here. He didn't want to crush that hope. It was probably the first time that he'd felt compassion in his adult life.

"No. I can't. I have to go and help some colleagues. I have to guard them while they do some very important research."

Cid's face fell, but he just nodded grimly. "Oh. I s'pose I knew that." He looked back up at Taipan. "Where you goin'? When?"

"Nibelheim. We leave tonight." He reached out to pat the boy's hand awkwardly. "Cid..." he looked at those eyes again. Could this boy have been his, in another life? His child, the one that he would never have?

"I'll get to the acad'my. And I'll look after Aunty Beth too." He nodded and smiled, slipping off the bed. "And I'll see you when I become a real pilot."

Taipan's fingers curled around his lucky charm, a bullet that had failed to find its mark. "Here, Cid. This is for you."

The metal piece was large in the small hand, but Cid held it tight. "What is it?"

"A bullet that should have killed me. It's a good luck charm. Don't ever lose that. I will be very disappointed if you don't have it at our next meeting." He smiled slightly.

"I'll be careful, Mr Not Taipan." He seemed as happy as Taipan to go along with the illusion that they would meet again one day. He had reached the door when a quiet voice stopped him again.

"Cid? My name is Valentine."

Cid giggled. "No wonder you call yerself Taipan." He stuck out his tongue and waved. "Goodbye, Mr Not Taipan."

Taipan raised his hand, and he was by himself.