(Author's note: Sorry I hadn't posted sooner, I wasn't sure if anyone was still interested, and I had finals in school. Now, I'll try to get at least two chapters out every week, but I can make no gurantees. I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, I'll try and get something more substansive off soon. Thanks to everyone who wrote a review and encouraged me, I wouldn't do this without you)

Chapter 6:

It is a common, well-known fact that anytime the words 'It couldn't get any worse' is said into the air…it will undoubtedly do just that. What this meant for Leon, and a now highly annoyed Paine, was that a torrent of relentless rain down-poured on them, making it difficult to see in front of them, let alone figure out exactly where they were going. This didn't stop them from trying, and they did, though it was not without its own problems. The sky was darkening rapidly, and the two warriors were soaked within minutes.

Leon led, hacking at forest foliage with his Gunblade. Paine followed, shooting psychic knives into his back. She was seething, but it was a waste of energy to speak, besides over the rain, very little could be heard anyway.

An hour later, they cleared the gray-green forest and beheld what could be loosely described as a 'town'. As soon as they were within view, Leon groaned loudly. Paine's brow furrowed.

"What is it?"

He glanced back, as if he had forgotten she was there.

"Nothing, it's just…I've been here before." The way he said it, made her certain that they wouldn't be happy to see him.

"Is it going to be a problem, Leon?" she asked, casually, handling her sword. He considered for a while before answering.

"No, it shouldn't be. Just follow my lead, and…don't use my name." With that, the conversation was apparently over, because he started off again, slipping his lion head pendant beneath his wet shirt.

The town itself was nothing special, a large fence surrounding a small collection of houses, and a few larger buildings. The larger buildings consisted of a tavern, a blacksmiths shop, a butcher's slaughterhouse, and a few indiscernible structures. Leon made a beeline for the tavern, something that didn't surprise Paine in the lease. They had to walk through a courtyard, an open space with a large fire pit, fully lit, the only real light in the darkness. A few figures stood around, warming their hands. Their heads were covered, but they raised their faces as Leon and Paine walked by, and followed the two with their eyes. Paine felt her skin crawl, but tried not to let her discomfort show. Leon seemed totally at ease, but she saw a muscle in his neck twitch, and he was always looking back and forth.

The tavern was just as Paine would have expected it, dark, warm and filled to the ceiling with smoke. It was obviously the center of the town's social and business activity. It took a while for them to find the 'reception area' although Leon seemed fairly familiar with the layout.

The man behind the counter eyed them warily, a thick cigar hanging from his stained mouth. His first words were truly the mark of a creative genius…

"Who are ya, and whaddya want?"

Paine opened her mouth to answer, but Leon shot her a warning glance.

"I'm Lance and this is my sister…Penny."

Paine stared at him in total disbelief. The Tavernkeeper looked them both over, hardly convinced, but he didn't look interested enough to press the issue. He handed them a rusty, well used key and jerked his thumb up the stairs, muttering, 'Room 23', before moving on to the next customer. 'Lance' bowed respectfully, then took his sweet, if tense sister up the wooden steps. They just barely managed avoiding a large bar fight, which cumulated in four injured, and seven more being kicked out. Lucky for them, although, if they had found out just what the argument was about, no doubt they would have both jumped in, swords drawn. So perhaps it was luckier for the combatants.

In any case, they entered their room without altercation. It was small, 'rustic' is the term usually used, but it was clean, and there were two beds. Leon immediately took up position at the large window that faced the door. He stood, legs apart, sword resting easily on the bed closest to him. Paine followed, and closed the door carefully behind her, blocking out the sounds of the fight going on downstairs.

She crossed her arms over her chest, a habit she'd picked up from her days as a part of the Crimson Squad.

"Lance? What was that all about?"

He knew that her real concern was the patronizing and unflattering name he gave her, but he ignored that. Since she couldn't see his face, he allowed himself a small smirk. Without turning around, he answered:

"What? I told you, it wasn't safe to use my name here."

Paine sat down on the bed closest to the door, obviously the one she'd been 'assigned'. A moment passed in silence, then another.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened the last time you were here?" she asked.

"No," he replied immediately, with all the finality of a closing coffin. She exhaled, exasperated, and looked around. The room was sparsely furnished, the only real pieces-the two beds. This was a place that people slept off their inebriation, not a place to entertain guests. She felt bone tired, but refused to let Leon see her as weak. He seemed impervious to any kinds of discomfort. After a while, her exhaustion overcame her pride, and she lay down, but not before saying:

"Wake me up in two hours and I'll take over."

She didn't know if he heard her or not, certainly he didn't answer, but she was too tired to care. She guessed it had something to do with whatever drugs they had used on her while she was with Mirt. And she was sure now that they had done…something, though she couldn't put her finger on what. Either way, it had diminished her endurance, something that made her angrier than she cared to think about.

The last thing she heard…or at least thought she heard, before she was embraced by sweet oblivion was a voice, low and indistinct. If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn it said:

"Rest easy, dream well."