AN: Warning for Cid's potty mouth.
Reeve is throwing a party.
And apparently, being the saviors of the planet—twice—isn't enough to get the former AVALANCHE members invited.
Not that Yuffie was planning on assisting the formal gala, though maybe the food could have convinced her. Too many manners to stick to, and rich and obnoxious people to deal with.
But being told that she can't go actually makes her wish she was there.
Not that it is a real party, more like a buffet to get the important figures of the world together to discuss new contracts and alliances and all that kind of thing that keeps the WRO going and helping people.
But still.
So, she decides to swing by nevertheless, lack of invitation or not.
The place is a big and heavily snobby mansion belonging to either one of Reeve's contacts or Shinra's, and security is pretty tight. But she isn't a professional thief for nothing.
Thus, there she is, sitting on one of the high windowsills and observing the oblivious snotty rich men and women walk around and talk and laugh falsely, toting those tiny long glasses of champagne or something around. With a snack she 'freed' from the kitchens in hand, of course, because this is a party after all.
Although, it is terribly boring.
She makes do for a while by observing the people and their clothes and hairstyles, before putting voices to the conversations she can't quite catch from her post, each more ridiculous than the last.
And when she is finally growing tired and starting to think it is actually a good thing Reeve had decided to spare them the torture of actually being down there, she sees her.
The first thing to catch her attention, of course, is the shock of red hair, elegantly pulled up into a bun with the wavy locks at the front free to frame her pale face. Her thin lips curve smoothly as she laughs softly at something her companion just said, almost feline blue eyes glinting amidst the crimson curls like Materia in the dark, and just the necessary makeup to bring the color out without being too overbearing.
She's wearing a deep blue dress, only the top of her chest uncovered, hinting but not showing her decently-sized breasts – unlike other women who are begging to have them pop out of whatever kind of bra they are wearing to make them appear larger—and distorting them grotesquely in the process. But she doesn't look any less for it.
The dress itself curls over her shoulders and a bit of her upper arms, though, when she turns, she sees that her smooth back is bare to her waist. The dress' skirt flows in alternating waves, ending a bit over her ankles so that the tail won't drag around. It's shorter in the front, revealing her shapely lower legs and silver high heels decorated with tiny diamonds, wrapped over the toes' knuckles and ankles.
She has a shiny, but not glittery, shawl wrapped around her upper arms, hiding a bit of her back, probably to cover her exposed shoulders and back in the cold outside. She's also carrying a small bag of the same blue of her dress in a perfectly manicured hand with the same shade of nail polish.
A silver necklace is wrapped around her long slender neck, with teardrop-shaped diamonds hanging off it to her collarbones, the central one being bigger and the others growing smaller the more they approach her shoulders. But that is the only visible piece of jewelry she wears.
Simple.
And because of that, stunning.
Her 'date' is obviously showing her off—there are no rings or marks on their fingers—but even without the man's efforts, she is easily the object of more than one set of interested eyes.
But that isn't the reason she has Yuffie's attention.
For a moment, before she realized the dress and the man and the high heels and the breasts were there, she had thought she was looking at Reno of the Turks.
Now, she can only wonder if she has just stumbled upon Reno's long lost twin sister.
She spends the rest of the evening unable to take her gaze away from the redheaded lady, observing her every move as she walks around, an arm locked around one of her date's, the other hand delicately picking up glasses of champagne or the tiny snacks the many waiters and waitresses carry around. Her elegant and incredibly comfortable steps don't waver even as the night wears on and other women with the same high-heeled shoes start showing signs of ankle pains, and her every move is as fluid as if she were a cat rather than a human.
And when she finally leaves, arm still around her date's, Yuffie hurries to her exit point through one of the ventilation shafts.
But she isn't fast enough.
Once she gets to the entrance, whatever car she took is long gone.
Two days later, though, she gets a chance to know more about the mystery woman when the Turks stop by The Seventh Heaven, as they are wont to do from time to time since the geostigma incident, while she is there, deliberating with Cid.
Tifa, as usual, is behind the counter, and Barret is sitting on the booth next to theirs. Vincent, to their surprise, has decided to spend a couple days around the area and is thus sitting with them, talking calmly with the bartender from time to time, but mostly observing the other two argue.
Marlene and Denzel are out playing, and Cloud is on a delivery.
And that's when the four Turks enter, exchange their hellos, and sit down at a table while Rude fetches their beers.
At the sight of the messy red hair, Yuffie is out of her booth faster than anyone can blink, almost bowling over the startled man that has suddenly become the center of her attention and disturbingly large grin.
"Reno! Just who I was hoping to find!"
"Er… Sure? Look, if you're trying to pickpocket me, I don't have any—"
"Not that, silly. Well, not now. Tell me, you wouldn't happen to have a long-lost twin sister out there, do you?"
For a moment, there is only silence, before the Turk takes a step back and looks at her with wariness.
"Are you drunk?"
Yuffie scoffs, straightening and crossing her arms against her chest indignantly.
"Of course not! I'm asking 'cause I saw a lady that looked a lot like you at Reeve's rich party a couple days ago. And she looked a lot like you!"
"You said that twice…"
"I guess the rumors about Jadder were accurate, then. Makes one wonder about the other rumors."
All eyes turn to Vincent at that, but the crimson-cloaked man ignores the confusion of his fellow ex-AVALANCHE friends.
"You've been looking into him?" Tseng asks calmly, taking a sip from the beer Rude offers him.
"Yes. I assume you have more accurate information than I do, however. What do you know about him?"
"That he's as dirty as the rumors paint him as, and then some," Reno answers with a scowl, though he quickly wipes it off as he shrugs. "The President is talking to Tuesti now. The scumbag won't know what hit him."
"Good riddance."
"What are you talking about?" Tifa asks when the Turks—and former Turk—finally fall silent, looking from one to the others.
"When you say 'Jadder', do you mean Goudrin Jadder? The owner of the oil reservoirs south Costa del Sol?" Cid questions, scratching his head.
"Not for long. Guy's corrupt and a slave driver. The WRO must have the evidence by now. Will probably throw the bastard in jail, at the very least," the redhead answers with another shrug, finally sitting down and grabbing his own beer. "He covered his tracks well, though, so Tuesti didn't have conclusive evidence to do anything to him."
"And he now does?"
"Yep."
"How?"
"He asked us to look into things," Tseng answers, and silence reigns once more.
"Wait a second…" Yuffie's soft voice makes everyone turn to her, seeing her eyes widen before she turns to the Turks. "You…?" she asks, voice slightly tremulous, as she points at Reno, who scowls.
"Well, thanks a lot, Valentine. You just had to ask, didn't you?" the redhead returns, glaring at Vincent, and ignoring the Wutaiian girl's disbelieving expression.
"Not my fault your cover was faulty."
"'Faulty' my ass. It was perfect, up until you opened your big mouth."
And that's when it finally dawns, and Tifa has to scramble to pick up the glass that slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers before it crashes to the floor.
"Wait! You were the 'beautiful redheaded woman' Yuffie saw at Reeve's party?!"
Barret chokes on his drink loudly, Cid's toothpick falls from his ridiculously open mouth, Tseng looks disapproving, Rude sips from his beer, Elena is trying to hide her smile behind a hand, Vincent looks impassive, and Reno gives Yuffie a large amused grin.
"Aw, you think I'm beautiful? Why, I think I might blush."
"No way!"
"Impossible!"
"You've gotta be kidding!"
The last one is Cid, who follows his words with a loud bark of laughter, attracting the Turks' attention.
"What, is it too hard to believe we do undercover jobs now and then?" Elena asks, looking insulted, and the pilot snorts once more.
"That guy, as a woman? Yeah, and I'm a chocobo."
Reno's smirk sharpens – and without a word, the redhead puts his beer down and stands.
Only, he doesn't as much stand as he flows to his feet, and before they know it, he's almost floating to Cid's side, wild hair and less than formal black uniform all but forgotten in the wake of his fluid and clearly feminine movements.
When he reaches the pilot's side, he smiles.
A sweet and elegant twist of his lips, eyes half lidded and head cocking almost coyly, before he leans forward a bit, a slender hand caressing Cid's jawline before pushing his mouth closed and moving to pet the short blond hair.
"Who's a good little chocobo?" he coos, voice soft and lilting at the perfect syllables, and it takes the pilot a moment more to snap back to himself and shake the hand away.
"What the fuck?!"
When Reno straightens, he's back to his usual cocky and masculine self.
"Guess you are, Highwind."
"Not bad, considering the appearances," Vincent muses with approval in his voice, nodding to the redhead, who just shrugs with a smirk.
"Not my fault the dress would get rumpled if I carried it in a bag everywhere. And the high heels are too conspicuous to carry around."
"Indeed. But they do come in handy."
"You know they do."
And that's when Yuffie snaps out of her shock, smiling widely once more.
"Hey, does that mean Vincent can also disguise himself as a woman?"
Cloud can hear the shouts from outside, but it isn't until he enters The Seventh Heaven that the words become distinguishable.
Even if that doesn't help explain what is going on.
Tifa and Yuffie chat excitedly. The Turks are sitting at what has slowly become their usual table, laughing more or less loudly or visibly. Barret has his head buried in his arms on the counter, and a really red-faced Cid is shouting at an incredibly amused Vincent that, if he wasn't Vincent, would probably be laughing out loud too.
"Don't you dare answer that, you hear me?! Don't you dare! And don't even think of trying to prove it either! I'm going to have nightmares! Nightmares! I'll never be able to look at a woman again! Or a chocobo!"
More than a little flabbergasted, Cloud makes his way carefully to Barret's side.
"What's going on?"
"Cid's a chocobo and you really don't want to know," the larger man answers without moving from his spot.
When Vincent starts laughing, Cloud decides Barret is right.
He really doesn't want to know.
