Author's Notes: This could very well be the only time I use this method of one chapter in one person's point of view, second chapter in another point of view. I hope to vary style s bit throughout the fiction.

And I hope the Reno revelation shocked you all! But if Reno is head of Urban Development, where is Reeve you say? Well, that is a good question …

Chapter 2: The Turk

Sometimes the world around you is merely a dream. It is a place where the pain, the fear and the sins are wiped away, where you are pure and good. Sometimes it is a place where people do not depend on you every moment, where the only person who needs your help is yourself. Sometimes it is a world where you are not constrained by orders, and where you are free to follow your heart. And sometimes it is a place where you can only be yourself, the one that no one else may see. Sometimes it is a place where you take the place of someone unimportant, and where your life is simple and sweet. Other times it gives you freedom to be the hero instead of the villain. And sometimes…

…you never find it again.


The irritating and familiar buzz of the alarm woke the man and he flicked it off with a slight movement of his hand. There was a groan of protest at his side as the warm body beside his tried to deny the existence of a world around them, succeeding only in drawing a chuckle from the male who had turned off the alarm. This one pulled away from the lovely young male curled against him and rolled out of the bed. A quick glance at the clock rewarded him with the time, somewhere between four am and five.

"Come on, gotta get up," he grumbled, shaking the other man out of his sleep. The younger male glared at him in anger, something that brought a smile to his face.

"Not now. Too early," the younger one mumbled.

"If you had listened to me last night and gone to bed earlier you wouldn't be as tired now."

"Like you'd let me," he shot back at the older male.

"You can sleep for another hour, but no more!" he said with another chuckle before going off to prepare himself for his own day.

He picked his way through the younger man's house until he came to the kitchen and prepared himself some orange juice and toast. It wasn't that he needed it for energy or to wake up really, he could operate efficiently for weeks without nourishment, not that he would want to do that. Once this was done he stalked to his lover's bathroom and allowed himself to cleanse away the pains and sins of the previous night. All was done in darkness, the element that was his home, his love, and his child, no matter what his young partner desired. Wrapped in shadows he dried himself off and sent to the closet where he stored his own clothes.

A navy suit was chosen by the man and he donned them without a word our sound. Even this early his training kicked in and he searched to do everything swifter, quieter, and smarter. It was his orders, and his calling, almost as death was. With the suit on, a duffle bag over his shoulder, cell phone in his pocket and keys and helmet in hand, he slipped out into the darkness of the morning. Waiting in front of the building stood his only love in the world… an obsidian Hesketh Vampire, brand new. There was nothing more important in the world to him as that motorcycle. He carefully placed the contents of his duffle into the two saddle bags of the bike before pulling on his helmet and revving up the bike. The words 'Perfect Turk' printed on the helmet in a beautifully scrawled script. The bike roared to life as he drove off to where he almost lived.

Five AM. The sun was just peeking over the horizon as he pushed through the doors of the Shin-Ra building, startling the normal cheerful greeter to wake up. She almost greeted him, but the second she saw the navy blue suit she quickly went back to her nap. Even people in the lowest areas of Shin-Ra knew better than to bug the Turk Leader when he was coming in for the morning, or any time really.

He went right for the private elevators, ones only accessible by security, executives and the top employees in the building. With a swipe of a keycard he was on the glass enclosed elevator, riding up to the fiftieth floor, his floor. While most executive floors were about the 60th, the Turks, more for the purpose of getting a floor for themselves, had the only completely restricted to anyone without a special keycard. Even the President had a hard time getting there at first.

Once in the Turk Lounge, the main hang-out of all Turks, he dropped his helmet on one of the leather couches and tossed his keys across the room and into the bowl on his desk in his office on the other side of the lounge. The Turk smiled and went for the training rooms, prepared for his morning regiment. In the small locker room he stripped off his suit, placed it in his locker, and replaced it with a set of black silk trainers. Now it was time for him to slip into the world of a Turk. It would take him two hours to completely perform his morning training, but it would be worth it in the end.

First he pounded all his pent up frustration into a punching bag. He knew his schedule for the day. Like hell he wanted to meet that idiot Tarshil's kid. Just like most of the executives here the kid was probably only getting the job because he was his father's son. When would they ever get someone with some damn talent here? Last person had MADE Midgar, and it's not like that was an accomplishment. Angrily he punched the bag again.

"Stressed?" came a voice behind him, deep and calming.

The Turk turned to face the stoic male behind him. A simple meeting of eyes confirmed the question.

"Won't be bad," the male assured his boss, "Train?"

The Turk nodded to his bald friend. "You got it. I could use some help with the combat training."

"Don't crack my skull this time," the tall man said with a smirk.

Seven AM now, so the clock proclaimed. The tall stoic man was leaning against the wall and seemingly meditating, but his boss knew better. Things were constantly going on in the bald man's mind, wheels turning and a world of problems being solved before they came up. At his side, sharing the couch and reading one of the extensive reports they had done on this new executive was his partner, who took a moment to brush a strain of midnight black hair out of his deep chocolate eyes. He himself was thinking, wondering what exactly was expected of him. Did the President want him to get along with the latest idiot, or merely treat him like I treat all the others?

"Hey Tseng," the bald guy said with a smirk on his face, "Think he'll be afraid of us?"

"Who isn't Rude?" the young Turk questioned his superior. "And he should be afraid! We're Turks."

"And he is an executive," the boss said stiffly, "He can get either of you fired if the President likes him enough."

"Relax man," Tseng said, leaning against him, "This guy looks clean. And it's the ones who look clean that always have something we can manipulate."

"Hey," Rude cut in, "My wife 'looked clean' to you guys, and she was just that."

"Was," the male chuckled before bringing up his hand to check his watch. "Time to go boys. Wanna beat the President up there right?"

"Yes sir," both said, neither sounding very overjoyed at the prospect.

"Sir?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes Reeve!"