"Oh, how shall I ever repay you for saving me from those horrible Wutai soldiers, my sweet knight?"

The boy, no older than ten, drops to one knee in front of Charlotte, placing the tip of his wooden sword in the dirt and bowing his head. "With a kiss, my lady," he says quickly.

Reeve smiles from his place at one of the outdoor dining tables as Charlie lifts her eyes to meet his gaze, hardly abashed. She kneels in front of the boy and touches either side of his round face, placing a kiss right on his forehead.

"Oooooooooooh!" comes the shrieking of a few little girls watching on, giggling behind their hands.

The boy's face turns bright red, but he lifts his chin in the air proudly as Charlie gets back to her feet, surrounded by other children who had been defeated in a truly spectacular battle, now squirming and peeking through half-opened eyes to see if the boy really did receive his kiss.

"You'll be a SOLDIER one day, I just know it," Charlie tells him, brushing some of his fringe from his eyes and picking up another wooden sword off the ground, pointing it at his chest.

"I'll be just like Sephiroth," the boy says breathlessly. "Did you ever meet him before?"

Charlie smiles coyly. "Maybe," she replies teasingly, prodding the boy gently in the chest with the tip of her toy sword. "Here's your first test! Show me what you got, SOLDIER, and I'll tell you all about Sephiroth."

Catching on quickly, the boy lifts his sword again, dancing around Charlie with childlike speed, their swords coming together again and again, clack-clack-clacking all the while. He follows their duel, watching Charlie's smile grow as the boy swipes low at her ankles, but she jumps over the sword and takes a few graceful steps back, looking over her shoulder to make sure she isn't going to step on any children that are still watching from the ground.

Her face is flushed with excitement, her long braid whipping back and forth each time she turns her head, each time she leaps left or right to avoid getting smacked with a large block of wood.

She doesn't mind, and she's never minded. For as long as he can remember, Charlie's often come home from the orphanage with bruises and cuts all over her body, proof that she put in just as much work with these children as she does with anything else.

So focused on Charlie's apparent delight with parrying several different children at once, all of whom now want a piece of the action, Reeve hardly notices the tiny, curly-haired girl running towards him from the front doors of the orphanage, a stuffed moogle dangling from under her arm.

Ms. Folia comes chasing after her, exasperated, her arms outstretched and calling her name over and over again, watching on with horror as the girl leaps forward and nearly knocks him over on his side, her moogle falling to the dusty ground.

"Megga!" Ms. Folia shouts, not daring to approach him any closer than she stands now. Holding her hands out warily as Megga climbs upon his shoulders, small fingers threading through his hair to find a firm grip, Ms. Folia takes a single step closer, blushing heatedly. "Megga, you get off the director right now and apologize!"

"No, it's all right," Reeve assures her, reaching up to smooth his hair back down, catching Charlie's eye across the yard as she cries out playfully, a wooden sword coming into contact with the side of her thigh. He winces at the ringing crack! that follows, her skin very probably bruising quickly. "What are you doing up there? Where's your rocket?"

She can't possibly weigh more than forty pounds, sitting heavy on his shoulders, her hands on his forehead, pulling his head back to look up at her face, wide-eyed and grinning, as if it's just a game to her. "Can I come to your wedding?" she asks, tumbling from his shoulders to fall awkwardly into his lap. "Can you ask Charlie if I can be the flower girl?"

"Megga, please—"

"It's fine," he says again, narrowing his eyes at Ms. Folia, who seems very loath to leave the scene so quickly. She glances over at Charlie, who's still fending off wave after wave of attackers, shouting and grunting with each slash of her sword, being backed up towards the wall of the orphanage. "She's all right, really."

Megga wraps her arms tight around Reeve's neck, watching Ms. Folia retreat reluctantly back into the home, passing by an open window to glance at them one last time. "You said you would play with me," she says, frowning as her eyes trail down his face, touching his cheek so innocently and so boldly. He understands well why Charlie refuses to bring anyone else but him here. "Your beard is scratchy. I don't like it."

This makes him smile. "Next time I'll be sure to shave, just for you."

Megga shifts in his lap, glancing towards the window to watch for a moment. "Ms. Folia doesn't like when Charlie comes to visit," she says, catching Reeve off guard. "She said Charlie gave a speech, but we weren't allowed to watch."

"I think I'll leave that decision up to your housemothers," he answers her, smiling to let her know it's all right to continue asking questions.

The girl thinks for a moment. "Do you really work for Shinra?"

Reeve nods. "Yes."

"Are you ever on TV like Charlie is?"

"No, she's much more suited for that particular job, I think."

"What does that mean?"

"She's prettier."

Megga laughs after a moment. "She is prettier than you. What do you do?"

"I take care of the city," he replies, trying to make it sound much simpler than it really is. "When something breaks, my department fixes it."

"Are you going to fix the Sector Six plate?"

Reeve clears his throat, feeling rather like he's being interrogated under a spotlight. "Perhaps one day, when we have the budget to do so."

"What does that mean?"

"It means . . . when we have the money to fix it." He looks over at Charlie again, but she's too invested in her roleplay to really notice him. Surely those children will bring her down soon enough, and she'll be limping out here, breathless and happy despite all of her injuries. "Why doesn't Ms. Folia like when Charlie visits?"

Megga shrugs. "Guess what I'm gonna be when I grow up big."

"What?"

"An engineer, just like Charlie."

Reeve raises his eyebrows, impressed. "Have you told her that?"

"Yep," she replies, popping the 'p'. "She said she was gonna help me when I'm older. She said she'd take me shopping. What's it like on the plate?"

"Very busy," he answers, not wanting to make her feel bad with visions of an exciting city center, theaters with blinking lights out front and cars rolling down the streets.

"Do you live in a big house?"

"We live in an apartment."

"Do you live up high?"

"On the topmost floor of our building." Reeve looks at the girl curiously, her hair a tangle of brown, cut at her chin. "Megga, why doesn't Ms. Folia like Charlie visiting?"

"I don't know," the girl says, frowning at him. She shifts again, her kneecaps digging into the tops of his thighs until she climbs his torso again, until she's sitting on his neck with both of her legs draped over his shoulders, the backs of her dirty and torn shoes tapping lightly against his ribs. "She didn't like the speech she gave, I guess. What did Charlie say? The older boys wanted to go join SOLDIER afterwards."

With her arms around his neck, she leans forward to look at his profile, at ease climbing all over him. With a pang of longing in his empty heart, Reeve looks at Charlie again, who drops to her knees dramatically as one boy pretends to defeat her in combat, the SOLDIER boy.

"She promised to keep all the citizens of Midgar safe," he tells Megga, hoping that's sufficient enough. "Did your father fight in the war?"

"No, my daddy worked in those big machines on the plate."

He falters, lifting Megga off his shoulders to place her in his lap again, holding her steady as she squirms and giggles, ready to play. "You mean the reactors?"

She hums, prying his hands off her shoulders to attempt to climb up to his shoulders again, but Reeve is stronger than a little girl, and he's able to stop her before she steps on his chest. "That's what Ms. Folia said. Will you play with me now?" she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Once you tell me about your father."

Megga looks defiant, much the same way Charlie looks when she doesn't get her way. "Daddy had an accident in the machine—"

"The reactor?"

"I guess," she confirms. "It made him sick."

"What about your mother?"

"I don't really remember much. Aerith said she's gone back to the Planet. Do you know Aerith? She's real nice. Just like Charlie."

He forces himself to smile at her, shaking his head.

Despite the sickness that fact makes Reeve feel, and despite not knowing anything about this woman that she's mentioned, Megga hardly seems bothered, already reaching for his neck again, reaching around to tug at the back of his hair in her attempt to clamber onto his back. "Can we play now, Mr. Director?"

"My name isn't 'Director'," he laughs, despite the emptiness in his chest. "It's Reeve."

"Megga, go help the others set the table for dinner, please." Ms. Folia comes walking back out of the orphanage, wiping her hands on her off-white apron, covered with dirt. Peeking around the corner of the building, she calls for the boys all surrounding Charlie on the ground, who moan and complain about chores. "Boys! Please!"

"You'll come back to visit, won't you?" Megga asks, giving him a pleading look that breaks his heart. "You didn't even play with me."

"We'll be back."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Tell Charlie I'll miss her."

"I will."

As soon as the children are herded inside and their weapons are put away, Ms. Folia calls Charlie and Reeve back as they gather their things. Charlie walks a little stiffly, but doesn't complain, some of her hair falling out of her braid to frame her face, forehead glistening with sweat and dirt smeared across her cheeks.

The housemother looks nervous beyond all comprehension, wringing thin hands in front of her and sweating. Charlie smiles, clearly oblivious to the tension, not knowing what Megga had told him.

"Miss Shinra, Director . . . I . . ." Ms. Folia hesitates, looking away for a moment and exhaling loudly. "I know that I am not in a position to ask for favors from either of you."

Charlie's smile fades and her face softens. With a sleeve of her jacket, she wipes off her cheeks. "No, please, go on."

A horrible feeling of dread washes over him as Ms. Folia continues, glancing his way only for a split second, as if more afraid of him than of Charlie. "You must understand that these children are very taken with the both of you, especially Megga, and . . . at this age, they're very impressionable."

"Of course," Charlie replies, smiling again. "We love seeing them."

"That's just it," Ms. Folia says, sweating profusely now. "They aired your speech on the television in the center of town, and . . . some of the older boys snuck out to watch and listen." She chews on the inside of her cheek, looking desperate. "Ever since seeing your speech, they've all become determined to join Shinra's military, or SOLDIER, as soon as they can."

Charlie laughs, but Ms. Folia doesn't seem to find it at all funny.

"Many of these children lost their parents to Shinra. Their parents were in the military and served in Wutai, or worked in reactors until succumbing to mako poisoning. Some of them were dismissed from the company and sent to live out the rest of their lives in the slums." At the mention of reactors, Ms. Folia's eyes rove over his face for a second or two. "You have done such wonderful things for these children, Miss Shinra, and we are all so grateful for your kindness, but I must . . . I must ask . . ."

Reeve fixes his gaze on Charlie, watching the comprehension dawn on her face. Anger constricts in his chest, anger on behalf of Charlie, who had been thrilled to be here only moments ago, and who now looks thoroughly depressed.

"In light of your speech and the threats made, we have all come to the decision to . . . to ask if you'll not return. We've caught wind of several threats already, from people who know that you're familiar with the children, people against your father's company who hope to draw you out. The children look up to you, but I think that Shinra has done enough to them. I . . . hope you'll pardon my bluntness, ma'am, but even if they are just rumors, we will not allow these children to find themselves unwitting victims in an attempt to reach you."

When Charlie chooses to say nothing, Reeve does, standing up straight and leaning forward. "Excuse me," he interrupts firmly, placing a hand in between Charlie's shoulder blades and drawing her close. "Charlie has done—"

Charlie stops him, placing a hand on his chest. "No, I understand," she whispers, forcing herself to smile politely. "It probably wouldn't look good for you to have a Shinra lurking around here."

Ms. Folia averts her eyes.

Clearing her throat, Charlie regains her cheerful composure, but it's not enough to fool him. "Well, you'll have to apologize to Megga for me. I won't be able to take her topside after all."

"We're very grateful," Ms. Folia repeats, and she sounds apologetic, but it does nothing to soothe the rage within him. "But I can't allow these boys to grow up with dreams of being a SOLDIER, or fighting in a war that killed their parents, as well. They'll only make themselves targets to resistance groups here in the slums."

Reeve opens his mouth to speak again, prepared to explode, to remind Ms. Folia who's funding this orphanage, to remind Ms. Folia who has brought them gifts and old jewelry and clothing, to remind Ms. Folia who has spent hours of her time handing out food that she personally paid for, to remind Ms. Folia who spent time sword fighting with them just a few minutes ago.

But Charlie stops him again, tapping his chest once more. "We understand," Charlie says plainly. "Good-night, Ms. Folia. Thank you."

He doesn't speak until they're out of sight of the orphanage. Charlie walks slowly through the crowded streets, keeping her head down, but of course people recognize her the moment she walks by. She doesn't stop for anyone this time, smiling weakly at a few people and waving, eventually clutching onto his hand and lacing their fingers together, taking a shadier route towards the helicopter they came in, her eyes watery.

"Charlie . . ."

"It's fine," she tells him, smiling up at him, her lips quivering slightly. "Don't worry."

"It's not fine," he protests, squeezing her hand as she pulls him down another alleyway that isn't blocked by people. "Charlie, look at what you've done for them—"

"And look what my father has done to their families, to their livelihoods," Charlie counters, her lips pursed tightly. Her expression, something very sad to look upon, suddenly changes into one of disgust and contempt. "Gods, it stinks down here. Let's go."

Reeve sighs frustratedly, releasing her hand to take her by the shoulders, shoving her (as gently as he can) against the nearest wall, watching her eyes widen first in shock, and then in anger, and then her entire face softens, a playful little smile crossing her face.

"It doesn't matter what your father has done unknowingly or knowingly to their families." Thinking about what Megga had told him, about her father working in a reactor, in one of his reactors, possibly being poisoned while just doing his job. He certainly wasn't the only one. "Charlie, what happened to their families was not because of you. You shouldn't allow people like that to treat you like you're responsible for—"

"We're complicit, Reeve, whether you want to admit it or not," she hisses, nostrils flaring just like her brother during his own temper tantrums. "If my being there, if my being a Shinra, might put those children in danger, then I will not continue to come back. She has every right to ask that of me."

"Blame Avalanche, then," he replies, giving her a slight shake, "for threatening an orphanage for associating with a Shinra . . . a Shinra who has done nothing but good for them."

"Blame Avalanche?" she scoffs. "I only recently gave a speech threatening to execute any known member of Avalanche and threatening anyone sympathetic to their cause. What would you do in their position? Wouldn't you want to draw me out? Not that my father would pay very much ransom for me in the first place." She scoffs, looking down at her fingernails. "I don't think Avalanche has the gall to use children that way, anyway. Ms. Folia probably just doesn't want me manipulating them into Shinra lackeys, dedicated to the cause."

He blinks at her, trying to think. Charlie has never been very vocal about the eco-terrorist group in the past, never choosing a side, always deciding to watch from the sidelines, coming to her own silent conclusions, and Reeve never doubted that the rumors regarding her passing information were false, but . . .

"Charlie—" he begins again, giving her another shake, but she lashes out this time, eyes flashing bright.

"Get your hands off me," Charlie snaps quietly, a command spoken to a subordinate.

Reeve complies immediately, holding his hands up in the air in order to make certain there's no confusion. "You don't have a choice, Charlotte. We're in too deep now."

She smiles to herself, chest heaving with her back pressed against the grimy wall. "Says you."

"Do you really believe your father, or any other executives, would let me just leave? You think I could just quit and walk right out the front doors knowing what I know?" he asks coldly, her smile infuriating and beautiful, mocking him. "I'd be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life."

"At least you could die knowing you were good."

His jaw clenches tight and he takes a step back. "There are other ways to rebel, Charlie. One day, you're going to take things too far, and something terrible is going to happen because of it."

"You sound like my father now." Charlie doesn't back down, and he should have known she would only grow angrier. "Now you're going to tell me to grow up, aren't you?"

It feels like there's a knot in his throat. She can be a brat, and he's always known that. He had first met her when she was only sixteen, and having been waited on hand and foot her entire life had clearly had its consequences.

But he's not going to just say that.

"What?" she asks again, harshly, cocking an eyebrow at him. Gods, he hates when she gets like this, just like Rufus, just like her father, goading him into anger, eventually smug when he refuses to give in. "Just say it, Reeve. Just say what you're thinking."

He works hard to keep his voice level. "Let's just go home. We've wasted enough time here."

Charlie looks almost disappointed. "Can't you stand up for yourself?"

"Of course I can," he retorts hotly, a flush creeping up the back of his neck. "I was prepared to stand up for you at the orphanage."

"I don't care about that!" Charlie lowers her voice as a group of girls pass by, hardly noticing them. "I don't care if you can stand up to some whore from the slums. I want you to stand up to me."

"I'm not going to be needlessly cruel just so you can get off—" The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, but Charlie seems pleased rather than offended. He drags a hand down his face. "What do you want me to do, Charlie? Do you want me to yell at you?"

"I don't think I've ever even heard you yell in your life, let alone at me."

He blushes again, furious with the way Charlie is so ready to pick him apart without hesitation. And the worst part is that she's enjoying it, sneering at him through the shadows.

She fidgets against the wall, chewing on her bottom lip. There's something childish about her movement, a child ready to move, to run around with their boundless energy. It's equal parts endearing and frustrating, this part of her that hasn't moved on from the launch, the launch from almost five years ago.

She's too used to getting what she wants and, when refused something, will go straight to Rufus until he gives in and supplies it for her. For all of President Shinra's disregard for his daughter, sometimes Reeve thinks Charlie's father had gone too far.

She's always been able to say what she wants to who she wants without consequence, and it shows, especially when she wants the upper hand in an argument with him.

She doesn't take criticism well, always has to be right, always has to have the last word. She thinks she can do whatever she wants because her father let her do whatever she wanted.

But he's not going to say anything like that just to satisfy her.

"Let's go home, Charlotte, please."

She relaxes, reaching out for one of his hands. "Only because I'll stink like the slums for weeks if I stay here any longer."

He pulls her off the wall, brushing the back of her jacket free of dirt before squeezing her hand, pulling her back towards the road. "I swear it, you're never coming to the slums again without an entire personal army to protect you."

"Please. I'd rather a Turk."

Charlie drags her fingertips lightly in a circle on his broad chest.

She still seethes with rage, even hours after being asked to leave the orphanage. Reeve's anger had gotten the better of him the moment the door of their apartment closed behind him, but whether he was angry with her or with Ms. Folia, Charlie can't be certain.

All she knows is that his anger had manifested through fingertips pressing a little too hard into her hips, teeth raking across her neck and collarbones, strong arms holding her in place as she allowed him to do what he wanted to relieve his frustrations.

She should have known. It was only a matter of time. The boys always told her that the other housemothers were wary of Charlie's being there, probably because they were afraid of Charlie spreading Shinra propaganda during her time with the children, manipulating them into young men who would die for her, who would die for the company.

But another part of her rages at Shinra Electric Power Company, rages that people fear the company so, rages that the company controls the people.

What does Reeve know about silent rebellion? He doesn't even know that Charlie has been passing vague and half-baked information to Avalanche since she hired Pia, but none of it has ever been enough.

Her father might balk and curse and rage for a day or so over a leak of information, but none of the information Charlie has ever given the resistance has done anything. None of it has ever made a difference.

Her visits to the orphanage had been how she made a difference. She had passed out food in the slums, helped Reeve commit to providing better living conditions in the slums, played with lonely children until she was black and blue.

It's no one's fault but Shinra's that Charlie isn't wanted there anymore. She refuses to blame Avalanche, refuses to blame any of the housemothers caring for the children, refuses to blame anyone but Shinra. Only her father's company could inspire such fear in grounders.

When was the last time you did something that scared you?

Charlie closes her eyes. She can't really blame Reeve for being a little bit frightened of her father, or even her brother. Rufus has painted a target on his back for the sole crime of loving her, and President Shinra would certainly never let Reeve fall victim to Charlie's little silent rebellion . . . the "humanitarian mission" her father believes her to be on.

So she won't tell him. It will be her secret, and hers alone. She refuses to bring him into the middle of any of this.

She looks up at the narrow, two-story house in front of her.

Her heart is hammering against her chest, her pulse pounding in her ears. Looking around Sector Four, with the sun setting and the sky darkening, the streets are relatively empty, save for a few cars that drive back and forth, pulling into driveways and sputtering down side streets.

Reeve won't be home for at least a few more hours, plenty of time.

She folds up the paper with a handwritten address on it, tucking it away in her jacket. She doesn't really know why she chose to wear the jacket with the Shinra patch on the arm. Raising a hand to the door, Charlie knocks rapidly, three times in quick succession.

The door opens quickly, and Charlie has to admit that it's strange seeing Pia dressed down in casual clothes. She lets Charlie in with a smile, locking the front door, and Charlie touches the small of her back subtly again, making sure that nothing has happened to the handgun she's tucked away, just in case she needs to make a quick getaway.

"It's not much," Pia says, hardly embarrassed. She leads Charlie through a narrow foyer where shoes are kicked carelessly along the wall, and a few stock photographs are hung on either side of the hallway.

In the living room, the television is on, but not loud enough for anyone to hear what the reporter is saying. Pia gestures towards the sofa, where Charlie takes a seat.

Whatever is said, regardless of whether or not you want to go through with whatever the plan is, you have to swear that nothing will leave my house.

Her hands shake. It's a bad look for her, to be seen sweating and trembling on her assistant's sofa. She touches the patch on her right arm, reminding herself who she is, but it doesn't make her feel any better. A real Shinra would never be in this position, would never have—

"She'll be here soon," Pia says, and Charlie blinks at her, hardly hearing at all. "You've met Jessie before, haven't you?"

Charlie nods. "A few times."

Of course they had only met under the guise of being sat together at some stage play, typically LOVELESS, the sensational and timeless classic (in Jessie's own words, of course). Neither of them have ever spoken to each other at length, however, normally just exchanging information written down, notes tucked in pockets and murmured confirmations.

When Jessie finally does arrive, she's thrilled. If she's nervous about meeting privately with Charlotte Shinra, she does not show it at all. Charlie is able to compose herself, to look the part, standing up and smiling as Jessie as she struts into the living room, ponytail waving from side to side and a smile on her face.

They begin with small talk, and Charlie tells both Jessie and Pia about what happened at the orphanage a few days ago.

"One of our guys does work for the orphanage," Jessie explains, "and Ms. Folia understands. She probably doesn't want him to be targeted for being a spy. I heard that Megga has taken a liking to you and your boyfriend."

This doesn't make Charlie feel any better, but she decides to say nothing further about the orphanage. "Tell me about the job."

Pia nods encouragingly. "It's okay, Jessie. You can trust her."

Jessie smiles again, tracing her lower teeth with her tongue. "We're going to target a reactor," she begins, and Charlie can feel her heart leap into her throat. "I know what you're thinking, but those reactors are killing the planet, and poisoning the people who work inside of them. They're harmful, Miss Shinra, and you know it."

"Taking out a reactor would mean an entire sector losing power," Charlie counters. This isn't what she expected, this isn't what she wanted. She doesn't know what she really expected or wanted, but it scares her, so she doesn't quite run away yet. "There has to be something else, something that won't affect thousands of people."

Jessie raises her eyebrows, shrugging slightly. "No light but the sun lamps beneath the plate, and the grounders are surviving just fine."

Charlie shakes her head, looking apologetically at Pia, who seems to understand her hesitance. "You realize I'm soon going to marry the man who designed those reactors, don't you?" she asks, and while Pia doesn't flinch, this seems to be brand new information to Jessie. "And you're going to sit here and ask me to help take one out?"

"They're killing people," Pia tells her gently, looking innocently at her from an armchair. "I know that was never the Director's intention, Miss Shinra, but it's out of his power now, and there's nothing he can do to change it."

Feeling very much like the best thing to do would be to walk out, Charlie decides to stay. "What do you need me for, then?"

"Heard you're something of a genius," Jessie answers, fidgeting side to side, excitable. "Think you'd be able to draw up some plans for a bomb?"

Charlie's heart flutters madly. Is this scary enough for you, Cid? "A bomb?"

"I'm not trying to take out the entire city," Jessie says quickly, jumping from the sofa to her feet and swinging her arms back and forth, pacing from one side of the room to the other. "I can't believe I'm talking to Charlotte Shinra about making a bomb."

"Just something to blow the core," Pia continues, turning off the television when it shows President Shinra, a speech he had given a week ago. "To disable it. No one gets hurt, Shinra loses a reactor, and Avalanche sends a message."

A few weeks ago, Charlie doesn't quite think she would have the stomach for this. A few weeks ago, she might have stood up and called for Jessie's arrest and immediate execution, if only to curry favor with her father and her father's goons. The cold metal of the gun presses against her back.

No one would ever have to know . . . she was the one who approached Pia, searching for something bigger to be a part of . . . she was the one who asked for this . . .

"I can make a bomb," Charlie utters, and both Pia and Jessie exchange excited looks. "A small one. I can give you the instructions and teach you how to do it, so long as you swear to me you won't change anything. I don't want anyone to die because of this."

"It's your bomb. You can decide how big you want the explosion to be." Jessie stops her pacing, standing a few feet away in front of Charlie. "But we're going to need one more tiny thing from you, as well, if we want this go as planned."

"You're not satisfied with a bomb?"

"More than satisfied, actually." She crosses her arms over her armored chest, looking pleased with herself. "Shall we get started?"

It doesn't feel right, nor does it feel good. She thought it might make her feel better, rebelling against her father in a much more extreme way, but it only makes her feel anxious, afraid of destroying something of Reeve's, afraid of his reaction, afraid of his disappointment.

Pia is able to supply Charlie with a pencil and paper, and she works through the process of building a small bomb with both her assistant and Jessie, who is a very active listener, and who seems to understand more than she lets on. It doesn't take very long to go over everything, and once Jessie rolls up the instructions and tucks them away, Charlie is prepared to run from the house as fast as she can, to put as much distance between her and this bomb as possible before someone can attach her name to it.

Before she's able to leave, however, Jessie holds her back. "We need one more thing from you," she says, reaching out to take Charlie by the wrist. She flinches, jerking away from Jessie's touch as if she's been burned. "We won't know where to find the core unless we know the layout of the reactor."

Charlie scoffs loudly. "I don't have access to the plans, sorry."

"No," comes Pia's voice from behind her, and there's a knowing smile on her face, "but you know someone who does."