This chapter I had actually planned before NYCC earlier in October, and had help with the details for it. Then I got assaulted with a lot of Gunmetal plot and planning, and this ended up so shelved I almost forgot about it. So it's late, but uh... the idea's the same.

Anyway, this series is about to get tough for me. I'll explain in the footnotes. For now, please enjoy the chapter.

When Friday came around, whatever I got out of a few hours of tossing a ball through a hoop over and over again seemed for naught.

Leon had been spot on – as far as desk-bound full-time working guys and basketball were concerned... we sucked. Or, in another way of looking at it, two of us sucked, and one of us was tall enough to be a bit of an ass.

"Boys, a question occurs," Mr. Hunter suddenly brought up as we circled under him. "Are we still playing ball, or just reenacting scenes from Bollywood?"

Glaring up at the ball the ridiculously tall man had raised ridiculously high over his head, I decided that question did not deserve a response. Leon growled and decided otherwise.

"Come on..." he ground out, hopping once and swiping at air – the attempt was so valiant it was comical. "Fight fair, you frickin' tree."

"My point exactly."

Every so often, groups of school kids passing through the court would pause to stare at us and the sight we had to be presenting: three "old" idiots who weren't so much playing basketball as playing monkey in the middle, and the monkey was cheating.

"I think my arms are getting tired," said monkey supplied.

"Good. Bring them back down here," I retorted. He hummed thoughtfully before his own.

"Yeah... no."

"... hey Cloud."

I looked around the giant who for five days of the week supervised my day job, and at the other end Leon looked dead serious. He gestured out a quick battle plan to me that basically involved a lot of finger twirling until he punched his fists one atop the other in a universally recognizable mime.

So we were going to play dirty. I felt a smirk creep up my lips as I decided with a nod: Nice.

The exchange lost to him, Mr. Hunter blinked. "... what was that?"

"Nothing. Say, how likely are you to get Cloud fired for what he's about to do to you?"

"Huh?" was the last intelligible sound the man made before I proceeded to punch the air out of him in a launched tackle – I figured I'd blame the heat and adrenaline later.

"TASTE DESPAIR, SEPHIROTH!" I heard myself shout. Definitely blaming the adrenaline.

"The hell-?" Leon protested from the side, already circling around back to intercept. "You're not even saying it right...!"

"Hey, I just dressed like the guy – I don't know him that well."

There was a soft huff above our heads – anything from amusement to "oh please" – before Mr. Hunter straightened himself and all but dropped the ball into the net. One – nil. With a tired groan the two of us surrendered to fate and dropped into crouches under the man's shadow as he finally lowered his hands partway.

"Smell that sweat and burning rubber, boys," he declared smugly, smirk and all. "It smells like victory." And then he slumped them fully and slouched forward with a groan of his own. "Bloody hell my arms..."

"Feeling better, though?" Leon asked. Somehow all of us knew what and whom he meant, and indeed there was a sparkle of life back in the older man's eyes that wasn't really there when we first met up this morning. The stress from work had rolled off his shoulders, and it showed.

"Much better," he affirmed. "Thank you, boys."

"You're welcome." And then Leon had gone after the ball and brought it back. "So are we actually going to play now, or would you rather pick on us some more?"

The older man laughed, but raised his hands to catch the ball sent his way. Then he looked down at it like he didn't really know what to do with it before tossing it to me. I tried for the net, actually managed to score for the first time all morning, then chased the ball down.

"You know," I heard Mr. Hunter speak up again behind me, "the New York Comic Con is coming up. You going?"

"Of course," Leon answered. I turned to see him grinning excitedly. "You know I'm jumping at those tickets the second they go on sale."

"Didn't we just come from a con?" I asked aloud, tossing the ball in Leon's direction.

"New York's different." He missed the net, but went after the ball anyway before explaining further: "NYCC was actually my very first con experience, some years ago. I didn't have a cosplay then, but it was what got me bit."

"So you've gone ever since?"

"Never missed it once."

"You'd like it," Mr. Hunter offered in encouragement. "Last year Stan Lee and Patrick Stewart were there."

I blinked. "Stan Lee I know, but who's Patrick Stewart again?"

"Professor X and Captain Picard."

"No way!" I squawked as realization hit me. "The Professor was there?"

"So was the Batmobile and Ecto-1." And then the older man had a knowing look in his eye. "See? I knew you'd like it."

"Not a lot of Final Fantasy though," Leon added with perhaps a hint of disappointment. "Last year they were just a black tent filled with merchandise."

"So you won't go as Leon?"

He shrugged, tossing the ball back to Mr. Hunter. "Not if I'm solo there – it's usually most fun if you're part of a pack."

"Oh..." For a second it seemed a little weird to picture Leon dressed as anyone else. Then again, I only knew him as Leon, just as he only knew me as Cloud.

Leon looked at me now, a thoughtful expression on his face. The next words out of his mouth surprised me: "Want to come with me? I think I can spot you for a ticket."

I fumbled the ball Mr. Hunter had chosen that moment to pass to me. "Wait, what? Really?"

"Sure, but just for the ticket though," he continued. "I mean, I'm not set on buying anything big this year, so I'll be able to afford it."

"Aren't they expensive?"

"... you could buy me lunch in New York and we'd call it even?"

"... uh..." I uttered intelligently. Then I raised the ball, took the shot and missed, and then chased. When I jogged back with the ball, I asked hopefully, "game first?"

He accepted the ball with an easy smile and obliging agreement: "Game first."

This time the ball went into the net. I didn't miss the look Mr. Hunter sent Leon either. To his credit, Leon merely shrugged like he had no idea what the older man was getting at.

We continued to play for a little while, mainly shooting hoops and mostly missing. An hour later we were sufficiently sweaty and sore. After a few gulps of water, Leon looked my way again.

"I meant what I said at that last con – us hanging out like that was a lot of fun. I think you and me could have a lot of fun at NYCC. There's a lot to see, especially if you're new to the experience, and it's one to remember."

I found myself hesitating again. Sure, that con where we first met and hung out was a lot of fun and a half, but New York seemed daunting, maybe a little scary. And to have someone come out and offer me a ticket with no strings attached? That was scarier.

"I'll think about it," I answered instead. "I'll probably have to talk it over with my sister and my folks, but... I'll let you know tonight?"

"Sure," Leon replied. "Ticket sales aren't on yet, so there's still some time."

"Okay, then."

"I'm headed east-side. Either of you boys need a lift?" Mr. Hunter suddenly interjected over our heads.

Leon shook his head. "I'm good, thanks."

I, on the other hand: "Sure, if you don't mind."

Nodding, Mr. Hunter beckoned me to follow. I quickly scooped up my bag and bottle before bobbing my head in Leon's direction.

"Messenger?"

"Messenger."

"See you, then."

With a final wave, I hurried after Mr. Hunter while Leon gathered up his own things and headed the opposite way. The air-conditioning from inside Mr. Hunter's car was an appreciated relief, but I could practically hear the gears going in my own head.

"Sir?"

"Hm?"

"How expensive are those tickets, anyway?"

"... they're not cheap," Mr. Hunter answered eventually. "Then again, neither is New York. He wasn't wrong, though – it's an experience to remember, even if you'll only ever do it once."

"Oh."

"You do realize, though," he pointed out almost at once, "that it'll just be the two of you for about a week, both in and out of the con. Ever traveled on your own before?"

"Well, no," I admitted. He huffed.

"Then this will definitely be an experience you won't forget."

"Do you think this is a bad idea?"

The man next to me I had known forever as my supervisor and only recently as my friend paused for a moment, mulling over his answer for me. It was perhaps this fact about him – how much he actually did care about his circle – that made him easier to talk to, to know that whatever he said next was sincere; maybe a little selfish, but sincere.

"I think it is," he confessed at last, "but I'm not your father. No, I think you can decide for yourself what to do with this."

"That didn't really help."

"Good. Then I wasn't an influence in any way."

There was a momentary silence after, as Mr. Hunter made a turn towards my street. I looked out the window at now familiar buildings and let my mind wander.

I had barely survived that first con, nearly did myself in even when surrounded by familiar faces before Leon showed up.

But New York?

Was that something I was ready to take on?

"... Then again," I mused aloud, "going means I get a week off from that stupid dog humping my backpack."

We both laughed at that.

Alright, footnotes time!

So... I'm faced with a dilemma regarding the future of A Cleon Effect. The issue isn't so much that I lost my plot - I pretty much know where this story is headed, but it's that fact that makes it harder to push it on. I guess it's mostly because these characters are actually "real" - they no longer represent just Leon and Cloud, but cosplayers and fans. They are not as easy to distance away from, and however this turns out may become a little personal, for me especially. What worries me is how personal it may end up becoming for the readers out there. Belive me, I've tried to put together a "safe" ending, but it felt insulting to do so, considering the characters.

If you're all for real life hijinks and drama, do let me know - hopefully, when we reach that point of no return, I'll have enough lifejackets to pass around.