Chapter 4: Casa de Reno
Reno accelerates his borrowed bike up an entrance ramp to the Midgar Expressway. With all the entrances blocked by checkpoints to keep the evacuation running smoothly, traffic flows much better than on the clogged streets below, where Reno had to drive on the sidewalks to make headway. "Hey Reno, think anyone from Avalanche'll show up at Junon?" Elena inquires.
"Two for sure, probably at least five," He replies, raising his voice so his partners can hear him above the sounds of wind and traffic.
"Really? Who do you think'll show?"
"Valentine's a retired Turk and he said he'd be there, so he will. Reeve's got nothing to lose by sending his robot, so it'll be there too. Lockheart and Strife are kinda like us cause Sephiroth killed someone close to them. They both want revenge pretty bad, so they'll probably show up."
"Yeah," Rude adds, "you could see it in their eyes anytime Sephiroth was mentioned."
"Right," Reno continues while weaving through traffic, "then there's Highwind. That guy's always had more balls than brains. He never learned how to back down from a fight no matter how bad the odds were and I don't think the crazy bastard plans to," Reno says with a slight smile, thinking of a few memorable bar brawls from years back. He then turns onto a exit ramp and resumes threading through congested traffic.
"Sounds like you know him."
"Yeah. Back in the war with Wutai, all the crazy pilots like him that weren't fighter jocks wound up ferrying around spec-ops teams. Rude and me flew with him a few times. The crazy bastard flew through some real shitstorms, flak everywhere, no hesitation." Reno laughs. "He didn't hesitate to jump into bar brawls when we were off, either. Broke my nose once, I gave him a broken jaw for it."
"Wow, I didn't know you two were in the war. I guess you guys did pretty good to get into the Turks later."
"Close. When they went to war, Shin-Ra put everything they had into winning. Back before the war, the Turks handled executive protection, industrial espionage, and special security. That stuff wasn't as important after the war started, so our mission changed. Turks like Tseng with enough Wutai blood to blend in worked as spies. Everyone else traded their blue for camo and became commandos. We did scouting, sniping, sabotage, anything where stealth was top priority. The old Turk training already covered damn near everything we needed to know."
Reno pauses to concentrate on maneuvering around a large multi-car wreck. "It was pretty damned dangerous work. Our unit had one of the higher casualty rates in the war, but we had the highest success rate." Reno says this with obvious pride in his voice. "There were only four Turks before the war, so every recruit with the right scores on their psych and intelligence tests got put into Turk training. That's how Rude and me got in. We're here," he states, turning one last corner. "Remind me later and I'll tell you the rest." He turns towards a tall, tapered condo building. "Now hold on. This place's doors are electric so we're gonna have to bust in."
"You're not thinking of..." Rude's cut off as Reno guns the motor, accelerating up the steps towards the large plate glass window between the doors in the front of the building. Clearing the last step, the large bike goes airborne, smashing through the wide glass window. Releasing the throttle, Reno swerves and brings the bike to a stop next to a stairwell door, leaving a trail of torn carpet and broken glass behind him.
"You can stop trying to squeeze me in half now, Lena," Reno jokes, pushing his shades back up to their regular position.
"Nice riding. What was that you were saying earlier about guys with more balls than brains?" She retorts while climbing off the bike. Chuckling, Reno dismounts and leads the way up the stairwell. "What floor're you on?"
"The top's mine."
"Yay, more climbing," Elena says sarcastically. "Wait, you have the whole floor?"
"Yeah. The building gets pretty narrow towards the top, it's not like it's huge or anything." Emerging from the stairwell they enter the small top floor lobby. Fishing his keys out of his pocket, Reno kicks his filth-encrusted shoes into a corner, walks over to the only apartment door in the lobby and lets his team in. They follow his lead, leaving their shoes in the hall. "Here we are. I'm gonna go fire up the generator." He grins. "Try not to track too much Hojo around my place." That said, he disappears into the darkened apartment.
"Let's get some light in here," Rude states, walking towards a back wall where dim light leaks into the room. Pulling a cord, he draws aside a set of vertical blinds that cover roughly half of the back wall, flooding the room with late afternoon sunlight and revealing a large balcony.
"Wow, he's got a nice place," Elena says, looking around a large room that could be best described as the fusion of a lounge and a conference room. The far end of the room was dominated by a large TV, flanked by a shelf of stereo and videoconferencing equipment on one side and an electric whiteboard and printer on the other. The whiteboard still bears part of an old mission briefing in Tseng's distinctive handwriting. Two large couches are set in front of it at an angle, separated from each other by a long, wedge shaped coffee table with built-in teleconference phones. A full-sized pool table sits towards the center of the room behind the couches. Rude walks towards the other end of the room, which features a large, well-stocked mini-bar. "Good idea, Rude," Elena says, following him to the bar. They both roll up their sleeves and carefully wash the assorted filth off their hands before handling the bar equipment. Rude then picks up a lowball glass and pours himself some fine aged Bourbon. Elena takes a bit longer to decide among the vast assortment of drinks before pulling a brandy snifter from the rack and pouring some Zwetschgenwasser, a type of plum brandy she hadn't tried yet. "I'm surprised how clean he keeps this place," she comments.
Rude laughs and takes a sip of Bourbon before replying. "He doesn't. The company sends a maid over every week or so when he's in town. I heard once that the maids with security clearances draw straws and the loser gets to clean Reno's mess." This comment draws a laugh from Elena.
"You two didn't waste any time," Reno laughs as he walks back into the room. "Since you two look so comfortable there, I'll go ahead and hit the shower first." He then disappears through another doorway before either can protest.
"What, no 'ladies first'?' Elena complains.
"You can go next, if you want," Rude offers.
"Thanks." Elena glances around the room again while enjoying her brandy. "Looks like some pretty expensive stuff. How's he afford it?"
"One of the perks of the job," Rude answers. "When you class your place as an official safehouse, you get to deduct about everything in it as business expenses. Shin-Ra even pays the rent." He pauses to sip his booze. "You'd have a place like this too if we hadn't been too busy since you joined."
"Too bad. So what's your place like?"
"Kinda like this." Rude's short answer disappoints Elena, who had made a hobby of trying to get the taciturn Turk to talk more.
Closing the bathroom door behind him, Reno slouches back against it, head bowed, and releases a puff of smoke and a pent-up sigh. 'A leader must never show weakness when there's a job to be done' Tsengs words echo in Reno's head from a long-ago lesson to the newly promoted second-in-command. 'Fear, sorrow, fatigue, all of these are contagious, especially when shown by a leader.' Out of sight of his companions and not having to fear damaging their morale, Reno allows his carefully controlled features to relax from his typical casual expression that he'd been clinging to during the weeks since Tseng's death.
He almost relaxes too far, a swell of emotion threatening to overwhelm him, but he holds it back, remembering his own words this time. 'We'll mourn him when he's avenged. Tseng'd be damned disappointed if he knew we were moping around here when the bastards who killed him're still breathing.' He'd stated this during his first job as the new leader, delivering the bad news to his partners, and had been living by these words as well as he could.
Leaning forward from the door, Reno steps up to the sink where he begins to empty his suit of the various tools of his trade hidden in it. Shrugging off his ruined jacket, he then removes his custom shoulder harness and his belt and hangs them and the assorted tools attached to them from the hook on the door. Then he unbuttons his shirt, revealing a large number of overlapping scars, a roadmap of a rough and dangerous life. As often happens, many of the memorable events in Reno's life spring to mind when he views the marks they left on him. As he finishes the buttons he reveals three parallel scars just above his waistline, left by the iron claw of a Wutai ninja who nearly disemboweled Reno during the war. These triple scars marked the first time Rude had saved his life. Reno doubts he could ever forget staggering through the jungle at night with Rude helping him stay on his feet, clutching the pressure dressings that held him together. In contrast to that agonizing experience, most of his later injuries seemed mere inconveniences.
Slightly above and to the right of those scars was the faded web-like mark of an old gunshot wound, marking the first time he'd saved Rude's life. They had been fighting a group of Wutaians that included one who was exceptionally skilled at using a pistol in close quarters. This gunman had managed to kneecap Rude and was about to finish him with a point-blank headshot when Reno stepped in, shoving Rude aside and cracking the Wutaian's skull with the butt of his rifle. When he did this the bullet intended for Rude struck Reno instead, driving down through his body until it struck his pelvis, cracking it. Miraculously, the damaged bone had held until they reached the landing zone, where it finally gave way while Reno was lifting Rude into the chopper. The two had spent the next month sharing a room in a field hospital, pumped full of morphine half the time while they waited for their bolted-together bones to knit. Over the years that followed, the two Turks eventually ceased keeping track of who owed who and if asked would claim to have lost count.
Viewing part of his collection of old scars from war and childhood in the slums, plus the nearly invisibly fine network of later scars from wounds healed with modern magical medicine that overlay them, Reno reflects on the fact that most of them are there because of mistakes he'd made. He now finds himself in a situation where he can afford no mistakes. He must use all his training in strategy, tactics, and leadership to create and execute plans and contingencies to invade the northern crater, kill Sephiroth, and escape with no margin for error. As if that weren't complicated enough, now that news of Holy had given Reno hope of living to enjoy his revenge, he needs to come up with long-term plans for the Turks' future in a world without Shin-Ra. Briefly he wonders how Tseng dealt with the pressure over the years, how he would deal with the increased pressures, but the answer comes to him almost as quickly as the question. "Because it was his job," Reno says softly, looking himself in the eyes through the mirror. "He handled it because he had to. All life on this planet just might be riding on my shoulders. It's damned heavy, but I'm gonna carry that weight. Because it's my job." His resolve hardened, Reno finishes stripping and steps into the shower.
"Yeah, try that one, I think you'd like it," Rude says, looking over Elena's shoulder. The two Turks were killing time by browsing through Reno's 'recipe books', a collection of bartender's manuals collected during his travels around the world that contained thousands of mixed drink recipes among them. Sorting through the varied bottles, Elena carefully mixes three liquors in ice and then strains the bright green result into a cocktail glass.
"Mmmmm... Tastes a lot better than it looks," she proclaims after a cautious sip. "You'd think they'd give something like this a more appetizing name than 'Flying Grasshopper'."
"Hey, don't get too far ahead of me," Reno says, seeing the various used glasses strewn across his mini-bar as he exits the bathroom. Turning at his voice, Elena is surprised to see Reno walk out still wet, wearing only a pair of dark blue swim trunks. She's surprised at how muscular the skinny Turk is, and at the amount of scars overlaying his compact physique. His fiery hair, unbound and wet, hangs nearly to his waist. /Wow. I thought the gossips were exaggerating when they said he was chiseled like that. If they weren't exaggerating that, I wonder if they told the truth about his skills too? No, you're a professional, you shouldn't be drooling over your hot boss! Stop staring at him, damn it/ runs through Elena's head before she pulls her eyes away and looks down into her drink.
"I'm gonna go fire up the hot tub," Reno says, explaining his outfit.
"Sounds nice. I hope I've got something to wear. Where's the bags?" Reno points to a closet that Elena opens, revealing four duffel bags, which were a standard feature of all Turk safehouses. Opening the one with her name on the tag reveals several changes of clothes, a small assortment of weapons and other tools, various toiletries, and a few other useful items. Elena's mildly annoyed to discover a pack of men's disposable razors, but grabs one anyways. She'd been shaving much less frequently since her promotion, a definite bonus of wearing a uniform with long pants every day, and didn't want to tempt Reno to make any sasquatch jokes. Finally she finds what she's looking for in a side pocket, a simple one-piece swimsuit. "I'm surprised you didn't have the supply department put a skimpy bikini or something in here," Elena teases.
"Nah, I had them put that in the Costa del Sol one," Reno replies with a mischievous smile.
"You're kidding, right?
"Maybe," He chuckles while walking out the door to the balcony. As he turns to operate the controls on the hot tub, Elena notices a large tattoo on his left arm that stretches from shoulder to elbow, a thin stylized dagger with hawk wings for a cross-guard and a skull with flaming eye sockets for a pommel. Walking into the bathroom, Elena hears the clink of bottles behind her as Reno mixes a drink while waiting for the hot tub to fill.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Rude's voice carries faintly through the closed door.
"Nothing, just a little tired is all…" Reno's voice drifts through this time.
"We've known each other for more than half of our lives. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a brother, so you can't fool me. What's eating at you?" Elena's eyes widen a bit from concern for Reno when she hears this. "I know what you're trying to do, holding it in like this. I had the same training on morale, remember? Don't worry, I'm solid, Reno. Nothing you say can shake me from getting revenge for Tseng. So spit it out." Elena's stunned by a combination of worry for Reno and hearing Rude talk more in one minute than she sometimes heard from him in entire days.
"...Tseng's a tough act to follow." Reno's voice again, hesitant and soft enough that it's almost inaudible in the bathroom. "Every time I have to make a decision, I can't get him out of my mind. I just keep thinking, what would Tseng do? Would he approve my choices? Or would he think I'm being a dumbass? I've made plenty of mistakes in my life... no room for another. We're gonna have one shot at this. I need to come up with a perfect plan, but when I think on it shit keeps going through my head like 'Tseng'd have a better plan', and 'Why the hell couldn't Rufus send me to investigate the temple instead?'. Kinda makes it hard to focus. Makes me more likely to make mistakes. Sometimes I doubt I'll ever be half the leader he was..."
"You keep going on about your mistakes. What about Tseng, ever see him make mistakes?"
"Damned rarely, never on anything important."
"Remember when he got promoted? It was nearly a month before he announced who'd be second-in-command. All that time to think and he picked you, even though the president objected. Ever wonder why Tseng made you second-in-command, even though you were always screwing around and making trouble? I got curious once and asked him. The main thing was your ability to improvise and think on your feet. That may be one of the basic requirements to be a Turk, but Tseng said you had a real gift for it. He actually said you were one of the best he's ever seen at adapting to changing situations and getting the job done. You've shown that on damn near every mission I've ever been with you on. Hell, Tseng said you would have been a natural leader if you just had more ambition. You think he made a mistake when he picked you?"
"...he actually said that stuff?"
"Yeah. I believe him."
"Huh. Always wondered why he'd promote a screwball like me. Something to think on. Thanks, Rude."
"Anytime."
"Just don't tell Elena I got shaky like this. Don't want her getting worried."
"You should've tried talking quieter then," Elena says, stepping out of the bathroom. "I didn't mean to overhear, but don't worry about me. I'll avenge Tseng or die trying. I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't. Hey, you may not be Tseng, but you've been doing great leading us. I'm with you a hundred percent, boss."
"Thanks, Elena," Reno says with a small, genuine smile. "It's funny, here I was worrying about dragging down you two's morale, and when the two of you find out you crank mine up a couple notches. It's been seriously great working with both of you. Shit, listen to me, I usually don't talk like this until after I get hammered. Guess I oughta get to work on that." Reno then turns back to the minibar and surreptitiously wipes his eyes while reaching up for a bottle. His fellow Turks spot the slight-of-hand, but don't say anything about it.
"I knew you could talk more, Rude. Why don't you do that more often?" Elena asks.
"...usually I've nothing to say," he responds, slipping back into his typical taciturn mode.
Deciding that Rude's probably done his quota of talking for the rest of the month, Elena heads back to the bathroom.
"She's got some good ears."
"Yeah..."
Reno waits until he hears running water before continuing in a whisper. "She did pretty good today, didn't she?"
"I think she proved herself down there," Rude replies quietly.
"Same here." Reno rummages around the back of the small fridge built into the bar, withdrawing a bottle of Champagne older than he was. After placing the bottle in an ice bucket, he then pulls three champagne flutes from the rack and hides it all behind the hot tub. "Don't tell her," Reno orders while returning to the bar. He then finishes mixing his drink and carries it and his PHS back to the balcony and climbs into the hot tub. As the hot water relaxes his body he gets to work, selecting the number for Shin-Ra's intelligence division and hoping the inevitable break up of Shin-Ra hadn't spread that far yet. To his relief, someone on the other end is on duty to answer. "This is Reno of the Turks. I've got priority one intel orders for you. I'm at secure fax Turk-03. Send me everything you've got on the Northern Crater, Sephiroth, Jenova, and Avalanche. Yeah, I know that's a lot. Now get your asses to work or I'll be paying you a visit."
Closing the bathroom door behind her for the second time, Elena begins withdrawing various weapons and other tools from her jacket and pockets, adding to the impressive pile left behind by Reno. Shrugging off her jacket, Elena begins removing her gunbelt. Due to the difficulties of fitting standard concealment equipment to women, she'd had to have it custom made by Shin-Ra's executive armaments department. The custom gear blends her weapons well enough with the curves of her hips that the thin weapons disappear beneath a jacket. Slipping off her tie, Elena slides a thin knife out of it before tossing the stained silk strip onto the pile of ruined clothing. As she unbuttons her shirt, Elena feels glad that the thin scars left by materia healing were only visible to those with Mako eyes. While she had never been vain, the small collection of scars she had acquired since her promotion to the Turks would have been enough to embarrass her away from wearing shorts, sleeveless shirts, and swimsuits if they'd been visible to most people.
Her shirt removed, Elena reaches for her hideout piece, a compact 9mm in a holster attached to the bottom of her bra. Although she was very petite, the swell of her breasts was sufficient to conceal the weapon under any clothes that weren't overly tight. She had learned this trick from an older woman while growing up in the slums. She had carried a crude zip gun made from scrap pipe and other scavenged materials in those days, but it had been plenty of firepower to send two would-be rapists to hell. They had made the fatal mistake of thinking the small blonde would be an easy victim, something she hadn't been in years and had sworn she would never be again. Although she didn't look like it and seldom acted like it, Elena was a tough street survivor with a large repertoire of dirty tricks and a small body count behind her even before her forcible recruitment into Shin-Ra. These had impressed Tseng enough to have her promoted from Shin-Ra's Information Warfare department when he needed another Turk.
As she finishes stripping and walks into the shower, Elena's mildly surprised to see bottles of conditioner and mousse. Elena knew from gossip and occasional bathroom stall graphiti that Reno's wild hair was a large part of the slovenly, bad-boy image that so many of the women at the office found irresistible. Apparently, Reno knew this too, and used it to his advantage. Relaxing under the flow of hot water, Elena laughs at the thought that the flame-haired Turk with the bad reputation might actually spend more time making his hair look careless than he would in simply neatly combing it. As she lathers up, Elena wonders what other interesting things she might discover about her complex friend.
While the last of the lather makes it's way down the drain, Elena slips into the simple blue swimsuit and exits the bathroom. Rude wastes no time in slipping past her and into the bathroom while Elena heads to the bar, noticing that the fax machine mounted on the wall is busily spitting out papers into a small tray.
Walking into the bathroom, Rude is once again glad he chose to shave his head. There is a good reason why assassinations are called wetwork, and Rude had found an easily cleaned head convenient after many missions. As he begins to strip, he once again wonders why Reno keeps that red mop on his head. Sure, the ladies love it, but what a pain in the ass to clean it after splattering some target's head on a wall. Rude removes his shades and, blinking at the unaccustomed brightness, steps into the shower and begins to efficiently clean himself.
After mixing herself a Pina Colada, Elena heads out to the hot tub where Reno's still talking on the phone. Reno looks up and unexpectedly pales, his eyes widening. /Holy shit! How come I didn't notice before? She looks just like... No time for that, Turk, you've got work to do/ runs through Reno's head. He snaps out of it a moment later and resumes chewing out the person on the other end of the line.
/I wonder what the hell that was about/ Elena wonders as she climbs into the tub. She allows her body to relax in the hot water, waiting for him to finish and hang up before speaking. "What was that about? You looked like you'd seen a ghost!"
"Almost thought I did. You... reminded me of someone I used to know for a moment there..."
Looking deeply into his aquamarine Mako eyes, Elena faintly sees a pain she often saw lately whenever she looked in a mirror. "You loved her." He nods. "And lost her." Another nod.
"One of the deadliest fighters in the world and the only woman I ever loved and she was taken from me by an engine malfunction on a routine flight back to Midgar after the war ended." Reno's voice is uncharacteristically thick and strained as he speaks. "Imagine that, making it through some of the hardest fighting in the war then getting killed in a plane crash. Life's kinda funny like that..."
"What'd you do?"
"Pulled some strings and got on the rescue mission. She was already dead when I found her, so I did the first thing that came to mind." As he says this, Reno points to a long scar running down the inside of his right forearm. "Rude saved me, hit me with a cure spell before I could bleed out, then a quick sleep before I could try again. He helped me work through it after I woke up, helped me get my head back together enough to go back to work."
"Does... Does it ever stop hurting?"
Reno looks into Elena's softly glowing brown eyes and sighs, unsurprised at what he sees in them as he'd known about her feelings for Tseng even before Tseng noticed. "I wish I could tell you it did, Lena. It gets dull over the years, but it's still there. Sometimes it flares up, even years later. That's pretty damned rare, luckily." Hearing this, Elena remembers a curious incident she'd seen a few weeks after her promotion: Reno locking the door to his office and coming out a half-hour later with whisky on his breath and his shades uncharacteristically over his eyes instead of his forehead. She'd been confused at the time, and Tseng and Rude had evaded her questions. Elena had experienced a few occasions after Tseng's death where she'd used her shades to hide reddened eyes, so now she knew what he'd been doing. "Having someone to get revenge on should help you feel like you've at least set things right with Tseng. After that, keeping busy with work helps. Getting wasted and one-night stands help dull the pain too. Basically anything that keeps your mind busy or fogged's good. It sounds cheesy, but good friends're damned good for coping. If I hadn't had Rude around early on, I woulda probably taken another shot at offing myself. So, if you need any help with this, me n' Rude're here for ya."
"Thanks, Reno. I'll take you up on that offer after we've dealt with Sephiroth. But I didn't mention any names. How long've you known?"
"It was pretty obvious. Remember a few weeks after your promotion when I cut down on the casual flirting with you?"
"You figured it out that soon? But you still flirted sometimes."
"Only when Tseng was around. Wanted to see if I could get a reaction outa him. Figured you wouldn't mind maybe getting to see him act jealous. Too bad he never took the bait." Elena sees a trace of Reno's trademark smirk as he says this. "Somehow I figured it out before Rude too. Kinda odd since he's usually insanely perceptive."
"Did you ever try falling in love again? Couldn't that help?"
"I was tempted a couple times, but I always ended up backing out when things started getting serious. There's not much in this world that scares me, but losing someone like that again's pretty damned high on the list. I don't want to have to deal with that kind of pain again. Don't tell anyone I said this, 'kay? Wouldn't want to ruin my reputation."
"Sure. So, why didn't you notice I looked like her before?"
"I guess I never noticed before cause of the suit, your hair, and your not having any scars. Any chance you had a sister, about five or six years older, with dark hair?"
"If I did, no one ever told me."
"Hold on a second." Climbing out of the tub, Reno disappears into the apartment. He returns moments later, carrying a battered black binder. After climbing back into the tub he opens it, revealing laminated sheets of photos. Scooting closer so she can see, Elena sees a very young Reno and Rude dressed in camo, grinning and striking a pose in front of a burnt-out Wutaian tank in a jungle. "We weren't much older than 14 when we got 'recruited'. Course, like most kids recruited from the slums, we didn't have any choice about it. Hell, I signed the enlistment papers at gunpoint. You won't read this in any history books, but Shin-Ra was losing, slowly, and was kinda getting desperate. Every half-year or so they'd lower the recruitment age. Things didn't turn around till they came up with materia. Anyway, they organized Turks in teams of two since that's usually all we needed for a mission. Rude and me were paired together right after training."
He flips the page, showing a group shot of about a dozen very young men and women with three older vets mixed in. "Those three were in the Turks before the war, along with Tseng. He spent the whole war undercover, so you won't see him till the post-war pics. That there's about the most Turks we ever had in the field at once. It was dangerous work, and the training was pretty damned hard, so lots of times we were losing people faster than we could get replacements. Like I said before, all the recruits that got the right psyche and intelligence scores got put through Turk training. Funny thing, something about being a slum survivor, especially an orphan, fit the psyche profile damn near perfectly. So we had lots of those. Training was hard enough about three quarters washed out. The wash-outs got dumped in SOLIDER training, most of 'em made it there."
Reno begins to flip pages and Elena stops him when one catches her eye. "What's going on here?" The picture in question showed young Reno and Rude grinning, each with a cigar in one hand, a bottle of booze in the other, and two young, slightly mal-nourished looking Wutaian women in their lap.
"Human nature." He answers. "We were all young, horny, and not sure if we'd live through our next mission. So most of us blew our pay on booze, smokes, hookers, gambling, drugs, whatever kept our mind off things. We didn't really expect to make it through the war, so there wasn't much point holding onto our pay or living healthy." He turns a few more pages. "Here she is."
"Damn, she does look a lot like me..." The picture showed a young Reno, slightly older looking than in previous pictures, sitting on a beach in short swim trunks with a bikini-clad woman in his lap. She appeared a little shorter than Elena, with similar curves and facial structure. Unlike Elena, she had long dark hair and, like young Reno, was covered sparsely with a variety of scars from the war, including a large one down the left side of her face that was partially covered by an eyepatch. Both had wide smiles on their faces and a cigarette hanging out of the corner of their mouths. Two mostly empty bottles of Sake were sitting to the side in the sand.
"Angela..." Reno sighs. "I called her Angel. That picture's from the day we met. Every few months Shin-Ra would give us a week's leave. They'd figured people tended to make more stupid mistakes if they didn't get occasional breaks. By shear damned coincidence we both got leave the same week and headed to the same south Wutai beach to have some fun. We ran into each other on our first afternoon off and both liked what we saw. It's a strange way to start a serious relationship, but it was strange times we were in. We were both drunk sixteen year olds who didn't know if they'd still be alive next week and were looking for fun, so... well we just did what came naturally to a couple kids without inhibitions."
"Right there on the beach? I was kinda expecting something more romantic."
"Hey, like I said, it was strange times we were living in. We weren't the only ones cutting loose. We lived in the now back then 'cause it's all we had. We fought hard, then we partied hard because there wasn't any point holding back. I know it's not the way normal couples meet, but we weren't exactly normal. Anyways, after a while we were laying there, worn-out and watching the sunset, when we got to talking. Turned out we had a lot in common. We were both Turks, both orphans from the Midgar slums. We both specialized in sniping and shared a lot of views 'n experiences, things were kinda snapping into place with us. The feeling's kinda hard to describe, but you know it when it happens, you know? Kinda like getting caught in a tornado."
"Yeah, I know the feeling."
"So there we were, tired, drunk, and falling in love. We didn't feel like getting up, so we fell asleep right there on the beach wrapped in a towel. Some shithead thought it'd be funny to steal our clothes and towels while we were asleep and we'd kinda forgot sunblock, so we woke up a few hours after sunrise with killer hangovers and bad sunburn in some pretty sensitive areas. Rude told me later he thought we looked funny staggering through town, naked and almost as red as my hair. Probably scared the shit outa the natives."
"You two looked hilarious." Rude declares, walking out onto the balcony and joining his companions in the hot tub. "I think there's a picture in there somewhere."
"Well, we weren't laughing, and I'm sure Elena doesn't want to see my sunburnt ass." Reno closes the album and sets it aside. "Anyways, after a few stops to empty our stomachs, we finally found the hotel. We wound up crashing in my room. We had room service bring up coffee, aspirin, and aloe. The burns were bad enough the aloe was all we wore for about a day. So we sat around up there talking and having fun smearing aloe on each other while waiting for the burns to finish healing. We spent the rest of the week mostly out on the beach. After that we took leave together whenever we could manage it, but it wasn't nearly often enough. We sent each other letters and pictures whenever we could, but didn't see much of each other until after the cease-fire when we got to work together hunting down die-hard Wutains who'd gone guerrilla. Then we got ordered back to Midgar and shit happened."
Reno throws back the rest of his drink and is silent for a moment, eyes closed. "That's enough depressing old stories for today. Rude and I've been talking. Elena, remember when you joined and were told you're on probation till you prove yourself or screw up badly? Well, congratulations Turk, you proved yourself today. We both think you did great down there." The normally talkative Turk is, for one of the few occasions in her life, struck speechless. Her eyes light up and an expression of combined pride and joy suffuses her face. "Normally we'd celebrate with steaks and a pub crawl, but all the bars and restaurants are probably closed right now, so this'll have to do." That said, he pulls out the Champagne bottle and pops the cork, sending it flying over the roofline. He then passes around the Champaign flutes and fills them.
"Congratulations, Elena," Rude states, raising his glass.
"Thanks, guys," she replies, still at a loss for words.
"Traditionally, after the pub crawl we'd set the new Turk up with a couple hookers. They'd be kinda hard to find with the evacuation going on, but remind me when this is over and I'll hire you a couple male escorts," Reno states, enjoying his drink.
"Err... you really don't need to..." Elena stammers, beginning to blush.
"Don't worry, you're worth it. Hell, I'll buy you three if you want." Reno looks up and notices Elena furiously blushing. "All right, I won't insist if you don't want any. It's not like it's a required initiation rite or anything. Anyways, we weren't surprised you made it," he says, deciding changing the subject would be smart. "After the war we could take our time in scouting potential Turks. I knew you had potential back when I read the orders to capture a hacker who managed to break into the Shin-Ra mainframe and kill the troops sent to arrest her."
"That was you!" Elena exclaims, remembering being blindsided and knocked out after she thought she'd eluded all pursuit.
"Yep. I shadowed you for two days before making my move and you still managed to stick me with that switchblade." He points to a small scar between two ribs. "Impressed the hell out of me. So I put a big-ass recommendation to hire in the mission report."
"But that was two years ago. Why'd I get stuck in the Information Warfare department if you thought I'd make a good Turk?"
"The plan was to leave you in IW another year or two to sharpen those skills before bringing you in. That way we'd have our own IW expert on the team and not have to rely on outside people anymore. We had to improvise and rush your training, but you've done great anyways, Lena."
They sit in silence for a few minutes as they finish the Champaign before Elena speaks up again, slightly slurring her words. "Heey Reno, got anything to eat around here? I haven't eaten since breakfast." On being reminded, all three feel sudden hunger pangs, as breakfast was a pot of coffee and a box of doughnuts hurriedly split three ways before leaving the office in the morning.
"Oughta be something in the fridge." Reno, an experienced drinker, sounds fully sober as he replies. Rude, being the closest to the door, leads the way. Opening the fridge reveals about two cases worth of beer, several bottles of wine, a pizza box, a few boxes of Wutaian take-out, and condiments.
Reaching over Rude's shoulder, Elena grabs one of the take-out boxes as Rude grabs another. Opening it, she wrinkles her nose at the smell. "Ewww... I think it used to be some general Godo's chicken. What'd you find?"
"Moldy curry..." Rude replies.
"Yuck," Elena says, placing the box back. She then grabs a beer. "Hey, microbrew." After twisting the cap off, she takes a swig.
"Beer me," Reno commands. Elena tosses a bottle across the room towards him that he catches with practiced ease despite having a blood-alcohol content high enough to send a non-Mako enhanced person into a coma. Rude opens the pizza box and shakes his head before closing it and shoving it back into the fridge. He grabs a beer then closes the door. "Try the freezer," Reno suggests.
"Jackpot!" Rude pulls out a frozen pizza and throws it like a frisbee towards Reno, who catches it and turns towards his microwave.
"Looks like I'm gonna need a bigger microwave..." Reno states.
"What if you tilt it on it's side?" Elena suggests.
"Nope. Door won't close."
"Maybe you're supposed to use the oven?" Rude speculates.
Reno checks the label. "Shit, you're right. Alright, let's see. Step one, preheat to 350 degrees." The three walk over to the oven and stare at an unfamiliar array of buttons and knobs. "Where the hell's the preheat button?"
"Has this thing got a manual?" Elena wonders.
"I've got an idea!" Reno proclaims. "Follow me." He hands the pizza back to Rude and leads the way back to the balcony, grabbing a bottle of Rum on the way.
"You're kidding, right?" Rude asks.
"It'll be just like that time I grilled a rack of ribs," Reno answers while turning on his propane tank.
"Burnt on one side and raw in the middle?" Reno jokingly takes a lazy backhand swing at Rude with the barbecue tongs for this comment, which Rude easily ducks.
"Hey, watch this," Reno says, turning on the burners and taking a swig of Rum.
"Shit, don't!" Rude reflexively yells when he hears the dreaded phrase. He's too far away to stop Reno from flicking his lighter in front of his face and spitting the mouthful of Rum across the flame and towards the grill. The resulting fireball knocks Reno onto his rear where he begins laughing, shortly joined by his comrades.
"Alright, gimme the pizza." Reno unwraps it and tosses the frozen thin crust pizza on the grill. All seems to be going well until the crust softens and sags between the bars on the grill, allowing toppings to fall inside. "So much for that idea." Reno grabs the edge of the pizza with the tongs and flings it over the balcony. It sails out over the edge of the plate like a wobbly frisbee, finally crashing down in the wasteland around the city. "Time for plan b. Good old ramen." He then leads the way back into the kitchen.
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews Marta, Bruna Aquino, and Secretselphie-tilmitt. I chose present tense for this story partially as a challenge to myself to see if I could make it work since it's harder to work with than past tense, and partially because I like the way it makes a story flow if done right. If I get too many complaints, I might consider revising into past tense. I haven't noticed any shifting perspectives, looks like I'll need to re-read and maybe revise. This chapter took a little longer than I expected, mainly due to trying to get the angsty bits right, which I felt were necessary to avoid making the Turks one-dimensional. Seems like these just keep getting longer as I go. In my old outline, this was supposed to just be half a chapter. I didn't count on 'Reno has flashbacks and tells Elena about Turk history' ballooning like that, but at least it was fun to write. Also, for those who don't know, 'Casa de Reno' means 'House of Reno' if I remember high school Spanish class correctly.
New Note: Edited to add '--'s to make scene changes more clear.
Edited again because some site update deleted all the '--' lines I used to use to denote scene changes. So time to slap horizontal rulers into all my fics.