Okay, I haven't updated this in two weeks, and I blame THAT on med school. Maybe I should switch my major to English literature instead... errr, no, that wouldn't work.

I am also somewhat pleased and errr... sad? that my Hysteria series is gaining more approval than this. I mean, yes, I know, I can't write romance for baloney and I'm hilarious, and I probably shouldn't be doing a mushy Reno romance anyway (I've just realised that Reno and mushy romance don't even belong in the same sentence... craaap). But this is WORKING DAMN IT!

P.S. I am not drunk.

Moonshine's Guide - fight scenes? Errr, watch WHOLE BUNCH of action movies. Matrix, The Crow, Enter the Dragon, Jackie Chan, Underworld, Bourne Series, Equilibrium, FFVII AC (oh wait, we've ALL watched that...), Lara Croft. NOT PoTC, their combat scenes suck, and most likely I can take out Keira Knightley and I weigh less than what I should. As for the dress - Remember, Arien is a Turk, which means that she was screened for lack of modesty, sanity, personal care, heart, e.t.c. e.t.c. On Hojo... I'm sure Lucrecia was madly in love with him. No wonder Sephiroth went loony.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmast... - uh... fuck. You found me out. It is modeled after DMC... (which I never beat, damn you college). Except Dante Version 2.9 (AKA my version) is more somber and more cynical. HA! It's not a rip-off, so nobody can tell me it's not canon. Anyway, This mystery dude who shall go nameless because if I name him Dante I'd get in serious trouble with the company shall be playing a role in this story. Lady and Trish will not be playing a role, since Reno is a pimp already and throwing Dante/Lady/Trish combo will create two pimps, and we do not want pimp wars.

G.P. Larue - I updated! (claps) Considering that a lot of my readers abandoned me to my fate post-knowledge that I have serious abandonment issues, any fan will be welcome (and while at that, any available males with height over 6' around? No? Damn it). Arien is actually based off me... except I actually gain weight when I eat, unlike her. I also do not have a Reno at my disposal like she does (although if I did, no one would ever see us again because... erm... I'll stop now, since this is rated PG 13). I can actually shoot relatively well, however, given the restrictions that there is a supervisor. Hmm.

Chapter 20: Placing Bets

Elena shut off the headset on her head with a touch of the touch-sensitive button on her earpiece. She snapped on her snow goggles in place; each breath turned pure white, and Elena seriously wondered if her nose was going to freeze off. Her ears were protected under earmuffs, but that made Rude's voice inaudible. This was going to turn into a big inconvenience, no doubt.

Rude was moving his mouth; Elena cupped her gloved ears, gesturing him that she couldn't hear him. He switched the headset on.

"What's the plan?" echoed through her earpiece.

"Reno wants us to scout the place for the ritual… apparently it's an ice cave."

"Any ideas?"

"Nope. Reno didn't leave any clues."

Rude sighed, but what was he to do? Reno was the leader, and for some reason he didn't leave any information. Maybe he believed that they were capable of finding the damn cave without any clues; maybe he was just a lazy ass. Who knew?

"He said something about going up north," Elena continued, trying to ignore Rude's twitching around the eyes. That was usually the tell-tale sign that he wasn't being a happy camper. "This place is riddled with caves. Might as well as search every single one of them."

"How many days do we have?"

Elena looked down. "Fifteen days."

Fifteen days. Was that long enough to find a single suitable cave from a large area, precarious and full of danger at best? They both wandered the same thing, did not say anything. There was no point voicing out their fears; not saying them would at least be less precipitous to bad events. For the Turks, who all had bad experiences with fates in the last decade or two, not messing with it in any way was a better approach.

Elena started, balancing her body on the skis, pushing herself forward with her sticks. Rude followed, a little slower, but steadily gaining speed.

This was going to be a long search.

Arien woke up, tied up on a table. Her head was throbbing with pain; she stifled a groan as the pain assaulted her with renewed fury. God, it hurt. Somebody – a male, she presumed – had really packed a punch in her head.

Her guns were gone, and that pissed her off. Her knives were gone as well, and that made her feel a little insecure. Thankfully, her earrings were still there; those were about the only weapons she possessed, putting her in immense disadvantage. Sure, she was a seasoned fighter by any means, but the enemy looked like a pro as well. And when it came to equal skills, the sheer power exuded by the males overruled females' anytime of the day. She knew that firsthand when she sparred with Reno; his kicks were heavier and packed more momentum, just because Reno had XY chromosome, it seemed. Her punches were faster, sharper, but still Reno's attacks damaged more than she did.

And the guy was easily 6'3". That was also a disadvantage; it meant she had shorter arms and legs. So while he could punch at 3', she'd have to get closer to land a hit.

"Awake, I see."

The voice was deep and careless, terse, unlike Reno's lazy drawl. She tensed as he closed in, but all he did was remove the gag from her mouth.

"What are you doing here?"

What an odd first question… usually it was "who are you". "I might ask you the same question," she retorted; a smile flickered across the man's face in the darkness.

"Fair enough," he acquiesced. "I'm here, hunting down a cult. It was last traced here."

Arien's hand twitched slightly. He saw it; "Your turn."

"Same," she admitted honestly.

"Same?"

"I'm following a cult. It was last traced here." Then: "can you untie me, please? I'm getting cramps in my arms."

"Not until I hear which cult."

What was his problem? Arien was getting agitated. "Hands of Mafi," she snapped. "Now untie me!"

When he finally untied her, she lighted a candle that was standing on the night table with a lighter. The candle glow illuminated the man's face with strong jaw and a slightly aquiline nose, silver shaggy hair covering half his vision. So unlike Reno's. Reno had a delicate, nearly effeminate face that just said "I'm a slick womanizer"; his smile was crooked and sly. This guy didn't smile or grin; he barely changed his facial expression. If was a different type of a guy, and that threw her off.

"Name?" He stretched his hand, which she grasped to help herself get up.

"I don't give out my name to strangers…" she felt the cold steel nicking her throat. "Go on, run me through. Can't give you my name, though."

"Fine." The huge sword returned to his back. She stood up, stretched, then automatically went for her weapons.

"You're a Turk, aren't you?"

Arien stopped, stared. Not many people could distinguish a Turk, especially when they were out of suits. And this one just named her off the bat. She did not changer her facial expression, but her eyes showed her surprise. "How do you know?"

"The way you shot… it's Turk-style." He said quietly. Then he looked at her hair, her face.

"You're Renaldo Miller's woman, aren't you?"

Nowthat she hated. She was not Reno's, period, and she hated it when she was nobody but just 'Reno's woman". What piqued her curiosity more than her anger, however, was that someone knew Reno's full name. Not much people knew Reno period, let alone his real first name and his last name, which he never used in public. He was billed under "Roy Johnson", his alias was Reno. Hmm.

"How do you know him?"

The guy looked surprised. "Miller?" He reiterated. "He's quite famous in the field… DeVir. Always scores what he aims." He paused, enough to make her realize that… he knew her name as well.

"You fucking bastard. You knew my name already."

He just smiled.

"I think I know you, though," Arien said, hopping off the board she was tied to just few minutes previously. "Formerly known as Tony Redgraves. Demon hunter, level 28. Impressive."

"How do you know my level?"

"Everything's on the Shinra file," Arien replied coolly. "And I am a Turk, after all."

"Mm."

The guy picked up Arien's pistol. "Colt Government," he observed. "Why did you pick that?"

"I like the pistol. It packs enough power." She smiled. "You use guns like Colt too… a bit large, though."

"Custom made." He twirled his own pistol in his large hand. "You don't look like you use Colt usually."

"I don't," she admitted. "I use gunblades usually… customized so they're small enough for me."

"And now?"

"Got in a heavy gunfight. The springs are busted."

He said nothing. Arien smiled again. "Say, do you want to do a bet?"

"A bet?"

"Yes, a bet." Arien grabbed her Colt out of his hand with a quick motion. "You win, I'll give you 50,000 gils."

"And you win?"

"You help us find our son… and track down the cult."

"Who. The. Hell. Is. That."

Reno's eyes told Arien that she was stepping on thin ice. She shrugged it off. "Hey Reno, I placed a bet."

"Yeah. Great. Go do it."

"Actually, I placed a bet that you'd win over him in a card game. So I can't 'go do it'. Sorry."

Reno removed his feet from the table, scowl on his face. "How much?"

"50 grand if he wins, he helps us – and we could use his help a lot – if we win."

Reno thought about it. "Fine." He gestured Arien to bring the cards from the drawer in the desk.

"Dealer?"

"DeVir can do it," said the man.

"You know her name?"

"Know yours too, Miller. Turks are famous if you're in the field."

"Huh." Arien and the guy sat down at the table where Reno was already sitting. "What game?"

"Blackjack or poker."

Arien did not change her expression, but her eyes told the guy desperately that the two games were the worst choices. In her years with Reno, she had never seen him lose either game, and he had gambled countless times, some for fun, some to pry information out of people, some others to grab quick cash. And the Turks were notorious (for those who knew it) for being good at gambling too. Reno had always won over every Turk – Tseng, Rude, Elena, and Arien herself had lost considerable amounts of money to the redhead. Sure, he sucked at silly games like War and Crazy Eights, but when it came to actual gambling games he probably could survive in extreme luxury in a casino.

"Blackjack, then."

Wrong choice. Arien said nothing as she dealt out the cards; there was nothing to be said. Reno took a look at his own: then said, "Hit me."

"Hit me as well."

Arien threw a card to each man. Dealing was boring.

"Hit me," Reno said again.

"I'll stand."

Another card came flying toward the redhead.

"Double down."

"Are you sure?"

Reno grinned. "Oh yeah… hit me big time, babe."

Another card.

"Stand."

"Let's see it," Arien said, tapping out a beat with her left foot. Reno went first.

"21. Blackjack."

The man had a twenty. Reno collected a tidy amount of chips.

"Go again."

The game went on for hours, but it was getting obvious that Reno was winning. Arien was not surprised at all; in fact, she wondered why he couldn't finish it faster, as just dealing cards out was boring as hell. When the man's chips were all gone, she was actually relieved.

"Guess you're working for us," Reno said cheerfully.

Reno actually liked watching Arien sleep, especially after waking up from a rather intimate session in bed. This time, she was just asleep, burying her nose into the duvet and her spread on the pillow, her arm nestled under her head. Arien never used his arm as a pillow, which was something he was glad about. His arm always got numb after a woman's head had rested on it for couple of hours. She was curled up in a fetal position, toward him.

"It all meant to be a single play; turned into long version."

He smiled at that. It was how Arien had explained their relationship to the mysterious Vincent-goes-albino-head. It was short but sufficient. The redhead guessed that there was more than just Darren Blake in Arien's past, but he said nothing about it; she once mentioned that she had a fleeting innocent affair with a traveler when she was in Mideel, but that it lead nowhere. As far as it was innocent – and Reno knew that – he didn't give a shit.

A sunlight hit her nose as she moved her head. As if tickled by the sunlight, she sneezed; her eyes fluttered.

"Mmm."

She never said "good morning" when she woke up; she always mumbled "mmm".

"I have bad news, baby."

Arien's eyes were wide open, indicating that he had her full attention.

"Our bank accounts are locked."

"WHAT?"

Arien's voice was loud when she yelled, but magnified a thousand times by the phone right by his ear, Rufus' migraine went up to level 5 and was still increasing. He silently wished for painkillers, but stronger doses would mess with his silicate cells. Apparently near-immortality, rapid cell growth, and all the other assets of having mako-treated silicate-based cells couldn't turn off migraines.

"OUR ACCOUNTS ARE SUSPENDED!" Arien screamed. "WHICH MEANS NO FUNDS! WE'RE STUCK HERE WITHOUT BEING ABLE TO DO ANYTHING!"

"DeVir, I don't…"

"CLOCK IS TICKING, RUFUS! And I am NOT, I REPEAT, NOT GOING TO LET MY SON DIE BECAUSE SOME IDIOT FROZE OUR ACCOUNTS!"

"Arien, shut up!" reached Rufus' ears. Reno's voice, agitated, but he was still keeping his cool, probably trying to figure out what to do next. Unfortunately, Arien seemed hell-bent on upping his migraine scale. And no wonder. The time limit was fifteen days, and sand was pouring down to the bottom of the clock. She was a mother, if not a good one; she was freaking out, afraid that she would lose Vince. She knew that it was one in trillion chance that she had conceived, a large chance that she would never be able to do it again.

"DeVir, you're tailed by the police."

That shut up the yell.

"Why?"

"Because Reno killed one of the police dignitaries. They froze your accounts."

"Then release it."

"I already have the intelligence working on it."

There was a shuffle, then Reno's voice was transmitted through the network. "How long would it take, Rufus? We don't have much time, and cash usually makes people talk."

"Three days minimum," came back the reply. "Five days maximum."

"Not fast enough. Tell the lackeys to hurry the fuck up."

"They're already undermanned, Reno. The entire house is working full-power to track Vincent down."

"Look, we need Valentine, and Arie's the only one who can pull the hermit out of his guilt trip. We need to finish planting in Wutai before she can go pull out the vampy." Rufus heard a loud bang and the phone went dead.

Rufus pressed the button on his telephone. "Tseng," he said, "set the Juniors to release Reno and Arien's accounts."

"Rufus…"

"Oh, and get the police off their backs, we don't need them sniffing around." He gave no pause for Tseng to object.

"What are you reading…?"

Reno looked up from a glossy magazine, feet raised up on the table. "Apparently, Lucy Bijoux' breasts are fake."

"We're pretty much stranded here, and you're reading gossip magazines?"

"We can't do anything else. Oh, she also has cellulites."

She shook her head. They had captured an informant in Wutai, wrung the information – and the living daylights – out of the woman, and learned that the adversaries had found the "chalice". After Reno had systematically fed the woman to the fish, the two had been living in Myer's house, doing absolutely nothing. That set Arien's teeth on the edge. It also let Reno read gossip magazines in a chair by a large window that faced the sea, his logic being, "I can't do damn shit here, so I might as well as relax."

"Reno, seriously. Don't you have anything else better to do?"

"We might be able to have some little fun," said Reno, innocence plastered on his face like a mask. Arien knew better than to fall forthat trick; Reno was anything but innocent.

"No." Just as the word got released from her mouth, Reno pulled her hand hard enough that she lost balance and collapsed into him. His lips covered hers; it was moist and warm against hers. He was burning; she felt the heat through the thin material of his linen shirt, and directly, as he had left the shirt unbuttoned and his chest was exposed. Or was it because she was cold, so cold?

"Someone might be watching…"

"Let them watch." He tugged at her brown knit shirt. "I see that your breasts aren't fake."

"No one would have fake breasts this small."

"Yeah, but I still like them anyway."

"Get off."

"Can't a guy touch his girlfriend?"

"Not without her permission, no." But she reciprocated the kiss… then simply stood up, grimacing.

"What's up?"

"I hate it when my phone vibrates in my pocket," she said, fishing it out.

"I kinda like it. Sends me the shivers."

"Sicko." She flipped the phone open. "DeVir." She paused. "Yes, yes sir… I understand sir… of course, sir. Thank you very much."

"What did Rufus say?"

Her grin was just as sly as his own. "Our accounts are thawed. Let's go."

And so they found themselves flying out of Wutai, this time in full Turks gear, ready to go and ready to fight. Time was ticking, slowly out of their grasps, and if needed neither of them was too squeamish about killing a few people.

"I have a distinct feeling I'm losing ethical morals," Arien said quietly as she clicked the cartridges into her pistol. The two were in the bathroom on the Flight 40, back to The Edge. Reno was checking his EMR.

"Yeah, well cry me a river."

"I also think half the plane is thinking that we're having sex in the bathroom."

"Yeah, well, let them. Unless you want to actually do that." He paused, mischievous look in his face. "I've never fucked in a plane toilet before."

"Yes, well, that'd have to be with some other female." She holstered her weapons into their places.

"Is Tseng coming?"

"Yup." Click. The blue light flared. Click. "We have the Chalice, The Priest, er…no clue about the receptacle, the knife. Anything else. Elena and Rude have found some weird shit going on in one of the caves, so it gotta be that one. I think that's it."

"The receptacle."

"Yeah, well tell me when you find it." He hugged her suddenly.

"What was that for?"

This time, he did not smile, but just mouthed the words: "10 more days."

It took three days to get back to The Edge, "grab the crew" as Reno had put it, then fly out to the North. From there, it was skiing, because the weather was still precarious and as Reno had put it, "we'd never get there anyway". Reno ignored the death glares from the three Turks and his boss. After living with Arien for however long he had lived with, you kind of learned to ignore death glares. Arien was very good at it too.

Dressed in suits that Arien termed as "Neon spandex speed demon suits", goggles in place, the five started the cross-country skiing, each wondering – except Reno, of course – if any of them would make it. Turk stamina? Bull shit.

They skied for over six hours – Tseng seriously thought about making Reno clean the toilets after they returned, but he knew Reno would devise a new method to cause havoc anyway – and after much cursing, swearing, devouring of energy bars, drinking power drinks and falling down, they reached a cave where Elena and Rude had found.

It was dark.

Reno sent a death glare to Elena, since sending one to Rude was sort of pointless. Elena shrugged. Arien, obviously frustrated, decided to go in.

A clatter was heard as the female sniper dropped her skis onto the icy ground, crunches as she stepped into the snow and into the cave.

They followed.