One Degree

They say everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of separation.

For AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one.

Reno and Marlene

Never Stood a Chance

Children shouldn't be in bars.

Then again, who was Reno to be judging? A good amount of his own childhood was spent in dark, shady places. He had been a slum kid, just like this girl seemed to be, and slum kids didn't really stand a chance at growing up someplace 'repsectable'. Maybe bars were no place for children, but they fit just right for slum kids. This little girl, however, seemed out of place in these slums, her happy smile not lighting up the slums like in the clichés, but rather making it seem to Reno like she hadn't seen much of the world she lived in. Her purple dress was spotless and swished as she twisted from side to side, standing by the door to welcome customers.

Rude had recommended Reno to come here, saying that the drinks were good, and it was quiet or loud enough depending on the occasion, not to mention the busty and beautiful bartender who could kick your ass as easily as she could mix up a drink. When Reno walked in from the nip of the fall cold, the bartender had apparently left her post at the bar for a moment. He heard a small thump, like something jumping down, and Reno found himself staring down at a little girl who'd jumped off a chair. She beamed up at him, eyes bright and hair pulled partially back, secured with a ribbon. Reno stuffed his hands in his pockets and noticed that a large black, bear-like man was shifting in his chair to glare in a threatening way – even less of a threat and more of a promise. A promise that if he even touched the little girl he'd just as soon wish he hadn't.

"Welcome to Seventh Heaven!" she chirped, beaming up at Reno.

"Yeah?" he asked, amused.

She blinked at him, as if thinking of what he had said. "Yeah." She nodded.

"And who're you, yo?"

"Yo?"

"Yea. Yo."

"Well I'm Marlene…yo." She giggled, hands covering her small mouth. "Who're you…yo?"

He smirked. "Reno," he extended a hand to the little girl, who took it suspiciously, gave it one big shake before dropping it.

"You're a Turk." She said frankly, looking at his suit.

"Yea."

She frowned. "Turks are bad people."

He was almost taken aback – of course he knew what she was saying was true, but to put it in such blunt, innocent words coming from such a small mouth, it took him by surprise. "Yea, I guess so."

Marlene's eyes stared up at him, almost disapprovingly. "So you know?"

He grinned. "Yea, I know."

"Oh." She said, and then thought for a moment, face set in deep concentration. Then she looked back up. "So why do it?" she asked. Her father, the bear man, didn't seem to like how long Reno was talking to Marlene, who was now getting up onto the tall chair behind her. Her legs swung as she sat, looking at Reno the whole time.

Reno shrugged. In a book or movie or something, this would be the revelation moment for the 'bad man' like him. For him, it was a question he often asked himself, and had long ago found the answer. "Well kid, it's all I got."

She seemed unconvinced. "I always figured that you guys did it because you didn't know it was bad. But there's always a chance to do something that, Mr. Reno-Turk."

Reno ran fingers through his hair. "Unfortunately, kid, I had a probably never had a change. Living where I did and how I did with who I did…well kid, I really didn't stand a chance." Not many slum kids did. "Now it's just me and this suit, Mars. Besides, the man who leads us saved my life."

This was apparently more appeasing, for she considered him, her head so delicately tilted to one side. "Mars?"

He raised both eyebrows at her. "Yea. Mars. That's you."

"Me?"

"Marlene. Mars."

She seemed to weigh the name, turning it over in her mouth and her brain, judging it. "I like it. Sorta." She decided. She gave a big nod and he returned it with a small one, and began to walk away. But no sooner had he taken 3 steps than he heard her heave a big, fake sigh. "It's a shame, you know." She called.

He turned his head and looked back at the source, the little girl who now shook her head in disappointment. "Yea?"

"Yea."

"And what's a shame?"

She looked at him and shook her head once more. "That someone with such cool hair has to be a Turk."

He gave a laugh, and the bartender returned from the back room. "Catch ya round, kid."

"Bye. Yo."

He ruffled her hair, and the big man at the table stood up – Reno now saw he had a gun for an arm. Even still, Reno gave him an arrogant lopsided smile and then turned away from him to sit at the bar. But before he could say anything, the little voice came yet again. "Mr. Reno-Turk!" Marlene called from her chair, hopping down and running over.

He looked down. "Yea?"

"Here." She said, and handed him the purple ribbon that had been in his hair.

He raised his eyebrows. "What's this?"

She beamed. "Now you've got more than just you and that suit!"

With that, her father swooped her up and took her out, Marlene waving over his shoulder as the bear-man muttered in her ear about dangerous people. Reno turned the purple ribbon over in his fingers as the bartender leaned forward on the bar, as if daring Reno to look down her shirt so she could kick his ass for doing it, and smiled softly. "That's her favorite ribbon." The woman said softly.

"And?" he scowled at her, demeanor of only a few seconds ago gone. She frowned and he could practically hear her mind registering her misjudgment.

"Nothing." She said, straightening and turning to reach something on a shelf. Reno didn't even look as her skirt rode him, but instead, stared down at the ribbon he was running fingers over.

And when he thought no one was looking, Reno tucked the ribbon into his pocket, thinking of the only slum child he'd met who actually stood a chance.

--

A/N: Don't ask about Reno's apparent obsession with the word 'yea,' because I have no clue. And the 'yo's seemed like soemthing Marlene would giggle about.

These are coming alone pretty fast. I'm just going to submit them as soon as there done, no waiting for a certain amount of time to pass. Unless I know I won't be able to write for a while, in which case I'll space out whatever ones I have.

As I realized at about 6:30 this morning, on my way to dance, there wouldn't be 156 drabbles unless I wrote each encounter from the viewpoint of the others person as well. Which I won't.

So this technically could be Reno and Marlene, Tifa, and Barret. But it's not going to be. Reno and Tifa will probably be a conversation shortly after this event. Sorry if these are turning out to be not very good - they're just my little pet crapples. Drabbles. Crapples. Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.

If that isn't a hint if I've ever say it, the next one is Yuffie and Vincent. As Demeter1 pointed out to me (which I'd admittedly forgoteen), Vincent mentioned that Yuffie's weapon seemed familiar. Also, don't expect there to be only one Yuffie and Vincent. There will definately be multiple, from each viewpoint - so this is technically Yuffie and Vincent Numero Uno. They are, after all, two of my favorite characters, Reno right in there with them.

One last thing is that I want to point out that where it mentions the two characters of the drabble, that whoever's name is mentioned first is whose viewpoint it will be from. Just wanted to point it out.

End of Longest Author's Note Ever.