Gods, they look so much alike. They could be twins, and it's unfair that he's being forced to stare into a face so like Charlie's right now.

Reeve hasn't even touched his food. His stomach is churning violently, afraid of so many things in the moment. He had fully anticipated being executed the moment he set foot in the president's office, anticipated fury and rage and an explanation for Charlie's behavior.

Instead, Rufus has shown him nothing but chilly courtesy, offering small smiles when he notices Reeve's apprehension. For all his aggression and anger, Rufus can certainly be charming when he so chooses to be.

"Avalanche is heading west, towards Corel, or so the reports tell us," Rufus tells him suddenly. His voice is light, as if they're simply discussing the weather, as if Charlie isn't traveling the globe with a band of terrorists. "Or, I should say what's left of Corel. If I know Charlie, she'll lead them to the Gold Saucer. It's a long trek through Mount Corel without any transportation, and they'll all be tired."

"You think she would lead Avalanche to a Shinra-owned amusement park?" Reeve asks, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. Charlie may not have much common sense sometimes, but surely she's smarter than that. "Are you even sure that she's traveling with them?"

"Nearly positive. Who else would she be traveling with? She wouldn't last a minute on her own, and we know now that she isn't above conspiring with terrorists."

Closing the lid of his take-out box, leaving his lunch untouched, sitting up straighter in his chair. It's slightly intimidating, having lunch so close with the president (the president being the borderline sociopathic brother of the woman who had left him mere hours ago), his chair pulled up to the beautiful mahogany desk.

"Now, Tseng has rightfully dispatched men to Rocket Town to confirm that Charlie hasn't plotted an escape with that pilot of hers, but it may be days until we have news on that end. I trust Tseng's judgement, but I find it hard to believe that Charlie would go to the one place we would all think to look first."

"Forgive me, sir," Reeve begins stiffly, wanting to go home and lie down and try to think about where it all went wrong. Everything had been fine when they went to bed; Charlie had touched him drunkenly until he couldn't resist, and he had fallen asleep with her back to his chest. "You mentioned there was a new job? Is it in regards to the city?"

"Charlie has scolded me several times for working you too hard, Director," Rufus sighs, leaning back in his chair in contrast. How is it possible for Rufus to look so much like his father, while looking so little like his father at the same time? "But this is different. I can think of no one better suited for the task at hand. Of course, my first choice would be a Turk, but they're currently indisposed, and their numbers aren't what they once were."

Reeve scoffs nervously. "I'm no Turk," he reminds the president. "I would hate for you to overestimate my abilities. I would only disappoint you, sir."

"Frankly, you've already disappointed me enough," the president remarks casually, just like his father would have. "Tell me, Reeve, you were engaged to my sister. Why do you think my sister would have left you to join some incapable band of vigilantes?"

He clears his throat, trying to think of what kind of answer Rufus might be looking for. He has an idea, at least. She would never have dared defy her own father so boldly and outwardly, but her brother is a different story, and if she didn't want to be associated with the things going on at the company, seeking the acquaintanceship of Shinra's sworn enemies would certainly be appealing to her.

Though Tseng seemed to think something different. When Reeve had decided to call him first (out of fear, he admits to himself, a fear of how Rufus might react), he had been desperate, hopeless, and more than a little embarrassed when he had to confess to the circumstances he woke up to this morning. He had been left with no choice at the end, having to relay to Tseng the damage that Rufus had done to her.

"You made a promise to Veld, Tseng."

The Turk had been quiet for a long time after that, almost purposefully drawing out the silence as if to keep Reeve on his toes, heart beating painfully fast. And then he had said, "I know where she's going," without even offering an explanation.

If only Tseng had told him where. And why hadn't he told Rufus?

"She had mentioned seeing Professor Hojo at the beach," Reeve says quickly, under critical inspection from Rufus. "I think he may have given her a hard time."

"Hojo was at the beach?"

"I didn't understand it, either. She was very drunk when I arrived last night."

"She was drunk?"

He nods. "She was upset about Angeal," Reeve continues, his throat very constricted. "She knows the truth of what happened to him, and she knows about Lazard."

"Knows what about Lazard?" Rufus snaps. He's taken the liberty of eating most of his lunch, the same meal his sister orders at the restaurant that provided their food. "Say what you mean, Director, or must I be forced to coerce it from you in some other way?"

"I only meant . . ." He shouldn't have brought Lazard up. "I was under the assumption that Lazard was your half-brother. If I've gotten it wrong—"

"No, it's true. I always thought he and Charlie were very similar, and not just in looks," Rufus says, waving a flippant hand in Reeve's direction. "I don't know why Father never told her. But that's no reason to run away. That's just being a brat."

"She's taking your father's death very hard, I think."

Rufus laughs mockingly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Even after she left you in the middle of the night without an explanation, you're still going to defend her?"

Why shouldn't I? It's not like Charlie's leaving him means she doesn't love him. And he has to defend Charlie in front of Rufus, especially after what her brother had done to her.

"All right, Director, about this job I have for you. It's simple, really, so you can stop looking so nervous." Rufus continues to smile at him, looking carefree. "Remind me what that thing's name was again? Something ridiculous, wasn't it? Cait Sith?"

Reeve nods. "Yes." His voice is hoarse.

"You're—or rather, Cait Sith is going to meet Charlie and her new friends at the Gold Saucer, you're going to go with them to find out what they and Charlie are up to, and when the time is right, we'll have a Turk or two extract her from wherever she is and bring her home again. That's all I ask. Isn't that easy?" Rufus speaks to him like he would speak to a child.

It does sound easy enough, but he isn't sure any of Charlie's "new friends" would be eager to have him. "What happens when Charlie comes back?" he asks warily.

"Then we'll all move on, our happy family will be back together, and we can pretend this never happened."

He doesn't believe it. He wants to, but he can't. "And if I refuse?"

Rufus's eyes flash with suppressed anger. His smile turns into a grimace. "Don't you want to see what Charlie's up to?"

"I—I don't know that I'm comfortable with—"

"—spying on her?" The president leans forward in his chair, elbows upon his desk. "Aren't you the least bit curious, Reeve? Aren't you wondering what she's up to? What is she doing that she didn't think you could know about?"

He can't say he isn't curious. He can't say the idea is equal parts appealing and unsettling. Spying on Charlie seems wrong, a breach of her trust . . .

And yet Rufus does it, and Charlie still loves him. The Turks have done it for years, and she doesn't seem to hold it against them.

Not that that makes it okay. It doesn't, but playing by the rules hasn't gotten him anywhere, not with Rufus, nor with Charlie or any of her Turks. Playing by the rules has only made him look weak and spineless, has only lost him the respect of his coworkers and his fiancée.

His ex-fiancée. No, that doesn't sound right. But just because it doesn't sound right doesn't mean it's not true. She had left her ring behind, without so much as a good-bye note.

"Don't you want to know if Charlie is going to Rocket Town?" Rufus says again, his voice a little higher than it was before, his eyebrows raised. "Don't you want to know what she left you for? She's keeping secrets from you. Aren't you just . . . dying to know?"

"How long are you going to let this go on?" Reeve hears himself ask, ignoring Rufus's taunts. Maybe if Rufus only needs him to do this for a few days, maybe a week at the most, it won't make him feel so guilty. "Someone will bring her home soon?"

"As soon as we get the information we need. So long as you're quick about it, then she'll be home that much sooner."

"And she'll be . . ."

"Safe?" Rufus supplies. "What kind of monster do you think I am, Reeve, that I would kill my own sister? That is what you think, isn't it?" He laughs jovially, standing up and brushing off the front of his white suit. "It would be what she deserves, to tell the truth. She knows the punishment that awaits those eco-terrorists. She promised it herself, on live television: an execution."

Reeve knows there's no way to refuse. It doesn't seem so horrible when he thinks about it. Charlie's clearly up to something, and he's very desperate to find out what. And he trusts the Turks enough, enough to know that they wouldn't harm Charlie.

If Rufus truly only wants to see her back in Midgar, safe again . . .

It almost sounds too good to be true. He can only hope he won't be leading Charlie right into a trap.

"Okay," he finally says, and Rufus's smile widens.

"I'll arrange transport for our little friend to take to the Gold Saucer immediately. Your cooperation is very much appreciated and noted, Director." Rufus picks up the phone and holds it between his shoulder and ear, dismissing Reeve with a wave of his hand and a curt nod.

As Reeve is halfway out of the office, Rufus suddenly calls him back.

"By the way," the president says, holding a hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone, "I hope I can trust you to keep your identity concealed for the time being? Charlie is unaware of your little hobby, is that correct?"

"I—" Reeve clears his throat, feeling warm around the collar. The hair at the nape of his neck sticks to his skin, cold sweat forming at his hairline. "She is unaware, sir, yes."

"That makes this much easier for all of us, I think."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's just that . . . if Charlie knows that you're involved, she might be slightly more . . . hesitant to confide private information. And if the rest of Avalanche were to find out that you were a Shinra executive . . . well, you understand, don't you?"

Reeve can't say he's surprised. He should have known he wouldn't be able to walk right up to Charlie and tell her who he is. But perhaps Rufus has a point . . . what could he get out of Charlie as Cait Sith that he wouldn't be able to as Reeve Tuesti?

"Yes, sir," he answers, nodding. "I understand."

The first few days are the hardest.

Running on hardly any sleep, Charlie does her best to keep up with her other temporary bodyguards. She sweats through her clothes, all of the alcohol leaving her body and still smelling of scotch. She has to strip down to almost nothing, her white tank top clinging to her sticky flesh, her hair wet and stringy.

Charlie is able to keep that up until late afternoon. It's only when Tifa comments something about Charlie appearing "dead on her feet" does the party stop to rest their feet, refill their water supply, and eat something.

At least she knows all of their names now.

Barret and Yuffie want nothing to do with her, and seem to find common ground in the joy of loudly talking about Shinra's heinous crimes against humanity. Yuffie talks a lot about the Wutai war, her stories sometimes outlandish and unbelievable and exaggerated.

Barret doesn't talk much about his own private life, but likes to talk about Seventh Heaven, old Avalanche buddies, and how Shinra had dropped the plate on it all and now his friends are dead and now his home is gone and he isn't sure when he's going to see his daughter again.

Charlie tries once to ask about his daughter, trying to be kind, but Barret seems to think it's a threat and turns his gun arm on her, only running off to scout ahead after Cloud talks him down.

She learns that Red XIII is the name Professor Hojo designated to the creature that had been kept in his lab. Charlie confesses she had never known such a creature lived in Headquarters, and Red XIII seems to take mild offense at her use of the word "creature" and starts scouting ahead with Barret and Yuffie more often than not.

While Cloud is fair with her and delivers as best he can as Charlie's "bodyguard", he's reserved and private, and when Charlie tries to ask about any of his old friends that they might be able to talk about, Cloud refuses to give her any names. She's too afraid to ask about the Buster Sword, thinking it's probably best to ask after they've established some sort of trust between them. She wants the truth when she asks.

Tifa, the bartender, is kind, but clearly wary of Charlie's company. She asks about the rebuilding of the plate, of the rebuilding of the mako reactors, asks how many survivors were found, what the status of Midgar is. Charlie isn't able to give many answers, as the rebuilding is still going on and likely will continue to go on for years. Midgar is never not under construction at some point.

Of all of them, Charlie finds herself gravitating towards Aerith, the Ancient slum-girl. She's the only one who will fall back to talk quietly with Charlie, as if they're friends.

The third day of travel, Aerith asks Charlie about Tseng, and Charlie finds herself talking for two-and-a-half hours about him, about how they met, about how they became close, about how she feels and what she thinks, little stories that are known to no one except them, and it's only after two-and-a-half hours of talking that she realizes she's been rambling (in a very positive manner) about the man who had kidnapped Aerith.

Blushing furiously, Charlie looks away. "I'm sorry," she says, horribly embarrassed about her sudden vulnerability. "I didn't mean to—it's just that, I've never really been given a chance to talk about everything."

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Aerith smiles. "To talk about it?"

Charlie smiles weakly back, but isn't all that encouraged to continue. "Maybe we could just talk about something else now."

She has to admit that it's a horrible journey. Most of it is spent on the road, in between towns, and Charlie hates having to relieve herself in the woods, hates walking for miles and miles and miles, hates being so dirty and bathing in brown creeks that are so cold that she can't spend more than five or ten minutes in the water.

She's so reliant on Aerith for everything, as well, which only embarrasses her further. She needs help washing her clothes, needs help finding edible berries and roots in the woods, needs help finding sticks for a fire, needs help lighting a fire, needs help catching fish.

Charlie can't believe how useless she is. She can't do anything; she can't kill monsters, she can't cook dinner for her "friends". The only thing she can do is determine their position by reading the stars (something that earns her praise from Tifa and Aerith) and read a map better than nearly anyone. Those feats aren't as impressive as taking down a monster, though.

And they only have one tent. It's big enough for all of them, having been bought in a village a few miles outside Costa del Sol. They all sleep inside of it, huddled together for warmth like some big family, but Charlie hates going inside that tent.

She shivers beneath her jacket and a scratchy blanket at night, lying just outside the tent and underneath the stars. It's cold at night now, the further away from the coast they get, nearing the mountains that Charlie thinks protect the Gold Saucer from view.

It would be nice to sleep in a real bed again . . .

Look what I'm doing, she tells the sky, look what I'm doing to get to you, Tseng. Don't you forget it.

She cries herself to sleep every night, trying very hard to keep quiet. She misses Midgar, she misses Reeve, she misses her brother. She misses the quiet of the Shinra Building after most of the staff has gone home for the day. She misses the sound of the waves floating in through her bedroom's open window at the villa.

She always fears that she's going to wake with a spotlight shining down upon her face, a helicopter hovering above her. Sometimes she fears that a monster will come tear her apart while she's sleeping. Other times, she fears she'll freeze to death.

You better keep me safe, Tseng, just like you promised Veld, she thinks, crying into her hands as she settles against the mountain floor, dirt covering her skin, or Rufus will kill us both.

He wasn't going to look through her phone.

Looking through her things has only ever burned him.

But if there's something in her phone that could lead him in the right direction, then it will be worth it.

Pictures won't help, but Reeve finds himself going through her pictures first, all of them recovered after her original phone had been crushed beneath the plate. Most of them are pictures of Cat, or of himself and Charlie, or pictures of Charlie and Rufus (he's smiling in those pictures, and he never smiles in pictures that aren't for newspapers or TV), or racy pictures she had taken of herself that had been sent to him to begin with.

Reeve deletes all the racy pictures. He doesn't want anyone looking at her phone and finding those, just like he did. Is it still appropriate for him to have those photos? How long is he supposed to wait for her? Is he supposed to wait at all? Why hadn't anyone prepared him for this?

He's never dated a girl as indecisive and reckless and impulsive as Charlie. Then again, he's never dated any girl whose homelife had caused them such strife. He should have known that being with the president's daughter (the president's sister, he reminds himself) would not be easy, and a few months ago, when he had made the decision to marry her, he had been willing to fight those battles when they came, willing to push through when things got difficult.

Did he think she would just up and leave one day? Yes. In fact, Reeve is surprised that this day hadn't come sooner. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, and he thought, with their wedding coming up, the chances of her backing out were close to zero.

He always imagined she would be back within a few hours, too, falling into his arms and crying when she returned.

Reeve goes through her voicemails next, toying with Charlie's engagement ring in his left hand. Most of them are from himself and Rufus, and a few are from the Turks and Cid. He clicks on a six-week-old voicemail from Tseng, letting his voice filter through the empty bedroom through the speaker on her phone.

"I thought I might catch you before you left Headquarters, but you must already be on your way home. I know our reservation is for seven tonight, but I'm running late and will meet you there closer to seven-thirty. Wait for me by the bar. I'll buy dinner tonight for the inconvenience."

Tseng's smug face looks up at him from Charlie's phone. It's not a horrible picture, in truth, and he looks a few years younger, but the fact that he's smiling right at the camera makes Reeve feel sick. Tseng doesn't smile for pictures, less so than Rufus, but apparently he smiles for Charlotte.

Charlie says they hardly speak, but the voicemail certainly makes it sound like the two of them speak more than she cares to admit. She's never confessed to having dinner with Tseng, but Reeve's been spending a lot of late nights at the office in the past few months, and it's not like he's ever home to take her out himself.

He clicks on another voicemail, this one from the morning after her father had died.

"I just wanted to call and make sure you're all right. When I have a free moment, I'll stop by the apartment. Call me if you need anything, otherwise, I'll see you in a little while. I'm sending Rude over to keep an eye on the apartment, but he's under strict orders to not enter unless given explicit instruction from you. Take care."

Reeve sighs, his thumb hovering over Cid, a call from the same morning of the last voicemail. He shouldn't be doing this, but there are clearly so many things she's hiding from him that it seems counterintuitive not to go through her things.

Unfortunately for him, Charlie has a picture of Cid, as well. His smile is a little more forced, teeth bared and his cheeks sunburnt and the looming shadow of the half-built Shinra No. 26 in the background behind him.

"Hey, kiddo, I just heard the news 'bout your old man. I hope you're doin' okay. You must still be sleepin', so I'll call back again in a few hours. I'm worried 'bout you, but I know I shouldn't be. You're a lot tougher than you look. Talk to you later, Lottie."

Reeve scrunches his nose at the sound of that childish nickname. Lottie.

He's never known anyone else in Charlie's life to call her that name. She's always preferred to be called 'Charlie', though he isn't quite sure how that nickname had gained traction. Something else he needs to ask her about, if she's even willing to tell him the truth of it.

Lastly, curling his fingers around the ring pressed against the creases of his palm, Reeve opens her messages, going through the texts she and Rufus have exchanged (it's a far higher volume of messages than he originally thought, amazed that the two of them can text back and forth for nearly every hour of every day), and texts that she and Reno have exchanged (these are mostly business related and where are you? and what are you doing? texts, but Reeve doesn't like the way the Turk casually calls her babe every five messages).

The texts exchanged between her and Tseng irk him in more than one way. While no pet names are exchanged between them (thankfully), the texts reveal a relationship that is deeper than Reeve ever thought. Charlie clearly has no qualms sending him things like I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore and I feel so lonely.

All things that Charlie's never come to Reeve about, and these messages have been going on for months.

And every answer from Tseng seems exactly the same.

I'll be there as soon as I can.

Give me an hour and I'll be on my way.

Is that what Reeve should have done? Should he have dropped everything to be with her? If he had come home a little earlier from the office a few days a week, would it have made her happy? If he had taken her out on a few more dates, if he had put forth the effort into continuing to romance her, would she have left so readily?

It's no surprise that she was feeling lonely. He had been neglecting Charlie for work for months before she had sent Tseng that text. It's not like he wanted to, but her father had been intent on piling as much work as possible on his shoulders, and that meant Charlie spending entire evenings by herself, falling asleep by herself with all the lights and the television still on.

One exchange between them catches his eye before he's able to back out. I miss Veld. I wish he was here, she had written, only three weeks ago.

And Tseng's reply had been, I know. Let's talk.

The texts between Charlie and Cid are the worst. Every single one makes him sicker.

When are you coming back to Rocket Town? he asks in one message.

Thought you didn't want me back, she answers.

You know me, Lottie. I'm a fucking liar. I want you to come back real bad.

Reeve doesn't want to believe it of Charlie. He hadn't really thought her capable of carrying on an affair, given her inclination for gossip and her busy schedule, but could it be true? She's never given him a reason to doubt her, and even if she were having an affair, Charlie hasn't seemed to love him any less lately.

He tosses her phone to the side, not wanting to look anymore. Cat watches him from the foot of the bed, tail swishing from side to side.

"What are we going to do, Cat?" he asks, holding out a hand to entice the cat. Cat lifts his head, slowly pushing to his feet to curl up at Reeve's side. "I know you miss her. Traitor."

Running a hand down his face, Reeve presses his fingers against the bridge of his nose. The quiet of his apartment hits him all at once, and the pictures of he and Charlie set up around the bedroom and the lingering smell of her favorite perfume and the smell of her shampoo on her pillow, it all hits him at once.

He sobs once into his hand, muffled and pathetic and hopeless.

Is this how Charlie had felt, all those nights he hadn't come home before she went to bed? Is this how lonely she had felt with the apartment empty save for her and their cat? Is this how she had felt before texting Tseng, desperate for company from the one man who would drop everything for her?

He falls asleep with his fingers still curled around the ring, and with Cait Sith half a world away from him.