Author's Notes:

Reno: Wheee! More me!

Reeve: Yeah yeah. Shut your damn pie hole. You know, people actually request to see me. And where are my chapters? No fugging idea. Because I'm in hiding. And really, who wants to write a chapter dedicated to a toy cat hiding in a closet?

Reno: No one. That's why we get to hear more about me. Sexy, sexy me.

Reeve: My hatred for you is only equaled by your stupidity. Tyramir doesn't own the rights to Final Fantasy.

Chapter Fourty Five

Family

Reno plugged a cigarette in his mouth as he waited in the driver's seat of his car. It was a beat up old Bandersnatch, retired from production, but the heap had a special place in the Turk's heart. Namely, because it was the only car he could find on short notice that was big enough to fit the bulletproof body-kit he had bought from a weapon's dealer. The windows were also similarly treated, and the trunk was outfitted with a loaded gun rack that any psycho wanting to depopulate the nearest McChocobo's would envy.

He glanced at his watch again. 3:58 pm. Trask still had two minutes to get his ass in gear, but Reno was impatient. Turk handbook always said you had to be five minutes early. Someone obviously hadn't done their homework. He was tempted to call it off, just forget Reeve's idea to train this murderer, keep an eye on him, and look for a weak spot, then kill him. The more he thought about it, the more he remembered Shera's death, and the guilt threatened to sweep over him again.

Instead, he managed his best grin, trying to think care free thoughts. He thought of the new secretary, Cheryl, and how that red skirt she liked to wear tended up ride up on her legs when she sat down. For a minute, it nearly worked. Then, he lost patience.

"You there, Yuffie?" he asked, poking at the ear piece radio that was beginning to feel more than a little uncomfortable.

"Loud and clear," came the response.

"You're in position?"

A deep sigh sounded, and the girl responded, "Yes, I'm in position. Gawd, don't worry."

Reno was about to make another comment when the passenger door opened, and Trask sat down in the seat. The man was wearing Turk blue now, and his wounds were now gone. His dagger was sheathed at his side, but his sword wasn't on his person. Neither looked at each other, and neither man said a word. Reno just flicked his cigarette out the window, turned the key in the ignition, and drove out of the parking lot. They cruised down the Junon streets in complete silence. Reno kept his customary smirk on, acting as if he didn't have a care in the world. Trask's face was set in cold arrogance, nearly expressionless otherwise.

After three consecutive traffic lights all turning up red, Reno leaned forward and flipped the radio on, putting it onto a jazzy station. A cheery tune came on, and he whistled along with it. When the light turned green and he started forward again, Trask leaned down and turned the radio off.

"You are unprofessional," the man observed.

Reno smiled, remembering Tseng's first lesson to him, to all Turks that worked the street. "Goes with the territory. You learn to be unprofessional with this job early, or you die. Easy as that."

"Forgive me if I think you sound like an idiot for saying that."

"Forgiveness granted. It's always the stupid ones that get killed in their first week that say that kind of stuff. There's wisdom in my words, trust me."

The man looked to Reno, giving him a inquisitive look. "What possible wisdom could there be in acting unprofessional?"

The Turk spotted the apartment building he was looking for quickly, and pulled up in front of it, parking his car directly in front of a fire hydrant. "Simple, rookie. And I don't give two shits about your Soldier record. We work the streets. We kidnap, we scout, and we kill. We do all the stuff that the normal police can't do, because we're that good. But we don't get to be that good by following procedure, due process, or what's in the book. The only set of rules we follow..." he paused as he pulled out a book from his breast pocket, "... is this. Turk protocol, as written by Tseng, the man who came before me. In a year, I'll have the revised edition of this out. But til then, you follow that one to the letter, rookie. And it said when you're ordered to be there at a certain time, you show up five minutes early."

Trask grunted, opened his door, and climbed out of the car. Reno followed suit, making sure to check the rooftop of a nearby building across the street without being obvious. He couldn't see her, but he was certain Yuffie was there, ready to run to help him if anything went awry.

"Okay," Reno said, "our mission's simple. The apartment we're going to hit is on the base floor. It belongs to a soldier known to take bribes. Rufus left us a memo to take care of him a while back, and someone slipped him the information. So he ran. Normally, I would have roughed him up a bit, but he deserted, and there's only one punishment for that."

Trask nodded, a twisted grin coming on his face. "How do you know he will be here? Surely he is not so foolish as to run to an apartment in his name?"

Reno smirked. "Of course not. But it belongs to his girlfriend. She'll probably be there, as well as their two year old. Intelligence says he was planning on marrying her."

"Do you feel remorse then?" Trask asked.

Reno thought about it for a minute and shook his head. "Nah. I don't do remorse. Turns the ladies off. I was just thinking how lonely his woman's gonna be after we kill him."

An evil chuckle escaped Trask's lips, and the Soldier had a gleam in his eye. "I thought you were above that. I've read your file, Reno Melville. I know all about you. I hope you do not disappoint."

He was about to make a retort, but his ear piece was filled with the sound of laughter, which stopped only to jokingly say, "Melville" and then was followed up with more laughter.

Trask made his way to the door of the apartment, and was about to open it when Reno made a noise. The man stopped and looked quizzically back.

"Ground level window," Reno said, pointing to one at the side of the building. "That should be where apartment three is, where our target's located."

Trask snorted in disgust. "Shinra regulations say we approach from the front door, identify ourselves, give him a chance to surrender, and if he resists, we act with extreme prejudice."

"Yeah, and what'd I just finish telling you about regulations and professionalism, rookie?"

The large man didn't respond, simply opened up the front door to the apartment building and walked in. Reno stepped back and sat on thehood of his car. He pulled out a new cigarette, lit it, and took a drag.

"Aren't you going to help him?" Yuffie asked.

"Why should I? He wants to get himself killed, fine by me. We're in this to see him dead. Whether I shoot him or some no-name, bribe-taking, deserting soldier does... makes no matter to me. Long as he's dead."

Near as he was to the ground floor window, he could hear the banging on the door to the apartment. It sounded as if a small battering ram were try to take out a wall. It was followed up by some shouting. It was muffled by the door, but Reno could still make the blow hard out.

"This is Agent Ivon Trask of the Turks! By the power vested in my by Shinra Inc-"

Trask was cut off by the sound of gunfire. Reno smirked as some nobody soldier emptied aclip from a Shinra issue glock into a door, and probably into Trask himself. A woman screamed, and he heard a child cry out. Probably the soldier's fiancé and brat.

"Well, I guess that's the end of Ivon Trask..." Reno said, a sadistic smile on his face.

Hopping off the hood of his car, he whistled a cheery tune to himself as he moved to the window to hop in and finish the job Trask had royally screwed.

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire filled the air. Reno ducked and swore, and he could hear Yuffie yelling over the ear piece radio demanding to know what was going on. All he heard was screaming, wood splintering, and gunfire. Pulling out his gun, he readied himself to hop into the apartment and into the chaos.

And then it all stopped.

As soon as it did, Reno stood up and vaulted himself over the windowsill and into the room. Furniture was upturned, and behind one piece was a man clutching a wounded shoulder.

That must be the target, Reno thought.

He didn't even make a mental note of putting three rounds in the man's chest. He just did it. You desert your post, you get people killed. Better you die than someone else later on because you're a coward.

Moving to the next room, he saw the splintered doorway, and Trask standing in the middle of the room, his gun out. On the floor was a dead woman. Not far from her, a dead toddler.

"You killed the family," Reno said, almost like a statement to reaffirm that it had actually happened.

"Acceptable casualties," Trask said. "They were in my line of fire."

"Acceptable...?" Something inside Reno snapped. He strode up to the big man, and before either man was sure what was happening, the Turk's pistol was planted firmly against Trask's temple. "Listen, you rat-fuck. You just murdered a fucking kid. You destroyed an entire family today, and you didn't even kill the mark. I had to come in and clean that mess up for you. You accuse me of being unprofessional? Look in the mirror, you fucking cold-blooded psycho!"

"Don't kill him!" Yuffie yelled through the ear piece.

Why the fuck not? he thought. He wanted to yell it, but stopped himself short. He could grease the son of a bitch right now, end the little puke stain and do the world a favor.

Trask just smiled at Reno as if the weapon weren't even there. There was a confident look in his eyes, a look that said that he was absolutely certain he could disarm Reno before he could pull the trigger. The red-headed Turk was almost tempted to try it.

"You speak to me about destroying families," Trask said. "You dropped the Sector Seven plate, Reno, not I. In one push of a button, you killed more people than I ever will. Reports say seven hundred died from that. Do you not think children were killed? Families destroyed? You act like you're better than me. All I am is a man trying to emulate the image you set forth. You are what a Turk is, Reno Melville. Teach me all you know."

"What the fuck do you know about family, Trask? What the fuck do you know about me?"

"I know that you requested the Sector Seven job specifically. Tseng was originally slated to do it, but you demanded to handle it yourself."

"That's because Tseng was too much of a pansy to do it right," Reno said through clenched teeth. Was he saying that for himself, or for Yuffie?

"Like I said, Reno, I've read your file. I know your history. You were born in Sector Seven, as well as your brother, Johnny. Psycho-analysis suggests that you took that job because you knew that it was going to happen no matter what, and felt that it was your responsibility to do it. To be the one who killed your own brother."

Now that was a mistake. Reno pressed the pistol even harder against the man's temple, and his finger twitched over the trigger. He began to slowly squeeze. "You shut the fuck right up, asshole. I'll kill you right now!"

"Don't kill him!" Yuffie yelled. "If Hojo sees you come back without Trask, he's gonna have an investigation done! They'll pull your bullet out of his corpse, Reno!"

Trask continued his taunting, "I destroyed a family today. You destroyed more. Worse, you destroyed your own. I always pictured you cold, passionless. More like me. A man I could become. But I see you for what you are, Reno. You're weak."

Reno let the gun drop from Trask's temple. He didn't even aim, just shot as the gun came down. Blood splattered as a bullet entered and exited Trask's thigh. The man didn't even grunt, but his weight shifted drastically to his other leg. His expression never changed from that same, knowing smirk.

"You ever fucking call me weak again, the next one goes in your temple."

Reno turned from Trask and exited the apartment building. Over his ear piece, Yuffie said, "Is it true? Was your brother in Sector Seven when the plate went down?"

"Maybe," Reno said, walking up to his car. He opened the door, climbed in, and slammed it. "Maybe not."

"So you did the Sector Seven job, why...?"

"Trask has me pegged. Did it because no matter what, someone was gonna do it. Tseng wouldn't have backed out and warned anyone, and Rude would've done it without a second thought. I was full of shit when I told you that. I did it because I figured if anyone was gonna kill my brother, it might as well be me. Poor Johnny... He was just a damn kid. A damn, stupid kid. A lot like you, Yuffs."

"Gee, thanks."

An awkward silence followed up, and Reno thought about his brother a little bit. He took another drag on his cigarette, then tossed it, then remembered he was supposed to be quitting. When he got back to base, he was going to set fire to every pack of smokes he had. And inhale the fumes. And those would be the last. He thought about following up that event with a bottle of scotch, but then shuddered at the memory of Yuffie dunking his head in a urine filled toilet.

"So, still like me?" Reno asked. "I'm not covered in pee this time. Would you kiss me?"

"I'm blowing one at you now."

"Aww, thanks. The sentiment's appreciated, kiddo. Tell you what, Yuffs. I'll go out with you. On a date and everything."

"What?" came the incredulous response.

Reno smirked as he said, "Yeah. When you hit eighteen. Oh, shit. Here hobbles Trask now. Radio silence and all. I'll take him back to Hojo, get him bandaged up, and we'll have a sit down with Reeve, okay? Figure out what we're gonna do next."

"Reno?"

"Didn't I just say 'radio silence?'"

There was a pause. "You're a real jerk, you know that? But it's okay. I'm gonna hold you to that birthday date. Oh, just to let you know, November 20th is my birthday."

Reno smirked, then thought about that for a second. She was sixteen now... the date was October ... the ... 26th. Shit. He had little less than a year plus a month.

So it was as Trask entered the car, a make-shift bandage wrapped around his leg from the dead woman's clothing that he found Reno at the steering wheel laughing like a madman, worry tinging the sound of it.