Choice of Words

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to the FFVII compilation (the game as well as all its prequels and sequels)...Reno's coffee obsession is my own imagination, though. Perhaps it has something to do with my own caffeine addiction.

Summary: Everything that looks simple on the outside turns out overly complicated when delved into. Illogical logic, but apparently true. YuffieReno.

Warnings: Sarcasm...too many commas and dashes...and unnecessarily difficult terminology on phrasing most things. Spelling isn't my forte, please be warned. Oh, yes, and I'm very wordy.

Coffee?

"Coffee."

"Yes."

"I asked for coffee."

"Yes."

"This is not coffee."

"It's coffee."

"It's not even brown."

"It's manila colored."

"So it's not coffee."

"It's coffee. It just has cream in it."

"You put cream into something that could potentially be labeled my life blood?"

"…Yes?"

It was a half an hour prior to this very eloquent discussion that, to Reno's surprise, Yuffie volunteered to get him a cup of coffee that he's been whining about not having. Needless to say, the cooperative nature of the offer earned Kisaragi quite the suspicious look from the red-head, but everything was promptly explained once Reno spotted a uniformed individual—no doubt an agent from the Neo ShinRa Headquarters—heading towards the duo. Upon turning curiously to the little ninja, who was supposed to be at his side, the Turk no longer found it all that surprising that she was missing, scurrying away, so accommodatingly, to get him his coffee.

In fact, Reno didn't find it very surprising that she mysteriously vanished for the next half an hour.

During the girl's disappearance act, the red-head was thoroughly questioned about everything he knew. Any attempt to get away from the irritating director of investigations ended in more suspicion and more useless queries. It should be noted here that the inquiries were cycling about the same topic, asking practically the same exact thing over and over again. They were, however, phrased in a variety of ways, which made life difficult for Reno, as the answers had to keep changing for the soul reason that the questions were posed differently.

After the irritating company representative finally decided that the Turk really knew nothing of the explosion,—or, at least, nothing that was of much worth to the investigation—he left Reno alone, wondering pompously back towards the train tracks, where he promptly feinted upon seeing the charred remains of one of the passengers dug up to the surface from the earlier explosion.

Reno had to give bonus points to the fried passenger for that. The uniformed bastard deserved the humiliation.

A light breeze moved the sleeve of the Turk's jacket slightly almost instantly upon the departure of the Neo ShinRa official, and the man realized immediately that the little nuisance of a ninja was back at his side. Reno was, in fact, quite shocked when she actually did have a cup of coffee to offer him, along with a sheepish smile, in response to the heated glare he sent in her direction. Once the muted exchange was finished, however, the Turk looked down at the cup, now in his hands, only to start up the vocal discussion, which was already noted, pertaining to whether or not what Yuffie brought him was actually coffee.

"Brat…"Reno tried politely, only to break his attempted cordiality by throwing the so-called cup of coffee into the nearest trash can. "Go away."

"You're very welcome," the little ninja retorted dryly. "You don't have to thank me so profusely. It's just coffee," she drawled, the words covered in a thick layer of sarcasm.

"It's not coffee!"

"Well, whatever it was, it's no more," the kid noted unhappily. "And it's all your fault!" she accused.

"Oh, do accept my apologies," Reno shot back dryly. "I suppose we should start the funeral processions for the poor, dearly departed cup of not coffee? Where's a bloody deacon when you need one, anyway?" he mused, taking a cursory glance about the surrounding area.

"Reno…"

One would have to give the fuming brat points for effort. She tried. She really tried to retort verbally—and only verbally.

Her attempt, however, didn't end with any amount of notable success, and Yuffie went lunging for the Turk at the same time that he, surprisingly, moved towards her.

In fact, his pitched forward weight froze the ninja before she could inflict damage, or, actually, even decide upon an optimal method of injuring the red-head. This gave Reno a nice opportunity to complete his own, much more thought out, actions. A friendly, but stern, arm soon wrapped its way about Kisaragi's shoulders, leading the mutely cooperative girl towards the train station exit and, presumably, to Reno's car.

"Turkey?"

Initial shock wearing off, the kid actually was gathering up enough gull to start protesting, but the expression on the red-head's face was so far off from his usual smug apathy, that Yuffie smartly decided to remain innocently curious instead of downright enraged.

"Having overstayed our welcome, we're just going to happily disappear in a more or less prompt fashion," Reno told her with some amount of mock cheer, pulling the kid closer in case she decided to bolt. The red-head didn't even want to imagine what Reeve would do to him if the brat was found in a ditch with a few limbs missing. "I'll explain later, deal?"

Kisaragi nodded mutely, going along with him for the time being. She wasn't all that certain what so greatly startled the Turk, but whatever it was, she certainly wasn't looking forward to finding out first-hand.

Of course, as usually happens where Yuffie and Reno are concerned, the amount of luck on their side was terribly lacking.

Nine, eight, seven, six feet to the exit, and the glass double doors started opening of their own accord. Someone was entering from the outside. In any other situation that would not freeze one overly serious Turk and his company of one very confused ninja, but the circumstances they were currently under weren't all that favorable, and the duo stopped their progress as one…

…for. good. reason.

"Think that's an AK47?" Yuffie chirped with a nervous smile, looking at the semi-automatic rifle which went walking through the door before its owner.

"Maybe?"

And then said rifle was pointed at them, and there was a general bout of panic from the already edgy passengers and staff.

"Regardless," Kisaragi tried one more time, looking up at Reno. "Run?"

"Run," he nodded in full agreement…for once.

A skipped beat later, a barrage of bullets hit the spot previously occupied by the unfortunate duo of unlikely comrades, the mismatched pair having bolted, tearing off through the crowd and down the corridor, which was by that point flooded with scurrying, alarmed people. Turning two consecutive corners, Reno eventually grabbed hold of Yuffie's forearm, tugging her, gentler than he intended, towards the fourth platform.

Fortunately, some merciful deity smiled down upon the pathetic attempt at an escape, and upon arriving at the aforementioned fourth platform, the pair was greeted with the happy sight of a departing train. Not minding where exactly said train would take them, the red-head continued tugging the little ninja along with him and into the closest carriage, offering the conductor his Neo ShinRa tag by way of substitution for the tickets, which neither the teenager nor the Turk had.

They were admitted, of course, claiming a pair of seats towards the back of the carriage.

"You know, brat," Reno ventured after a moment of heavy silence. "I think that was an AK47."

"Told you so!"

And suddenly, the atmosphere was no longer all that heavy. She continued ranting and complaining, and Reno could only catch about half of the words that were coming out of her mouth. Though by no means an exact replica of what the kid had in mind upon delivering her furious rant, the man distinctly picked up on something about Valentine, guns, and the unfairness of him not teaching the Princess to handle the weaponry.

"Because, you know," she concluded. "I'd totally kick ass."

Her Royal Highness eventually trailed off into an uncomfortable silence, and Reno floundered for the reason before he, himself, remembered something.

"Kid, why did you come to the train station?"

Silence.

"Kid?"

"Well…" she trailed off, looking decidedly uneasy, and Reno's lightened mood dropped.

"Well, what?"

"You see…I…well…" she muted the rest of her unsure sentence, and the red-head turned fully towards her, taking in the whole nervous ensemble he was faced with.

"Well, what?" he prompted one more time.

"Well…"

"Well, what, Yuffie?"

"The file had a note attached to the outside of it, but the paper clip went flying, so it was left in my backpack," the kid explained sheepishly, giving Reno a pathetic little look.

To the Turk's chagrin, he was not immune to the girlish charm. Then again, a missing note didn't sound all that bad. Perhaps the matter touched upon in the attachment was trivial.

"Can I see the bloody thing?" he prompted gruffly, being granted his request in a heartbeat.

Reading and rereading the crumpled piece of paper that was handed to him, Reno couldn't help but take Yuffie's hand and bite her index finger, hard, for lack of any better option for venting his frustration.

"I hate you, brat."

Yuffie winced and nodded.

"I know."

The note was left unfolded in the Turk's lap, facing up and towards the two mutely conversing individuals:

'Reno—

Take the train ticket and reschedule your trip for tomorrow.

—Reeve'

Artistic cruelty, more so than most other forms of brutality, tends to possess that indescribable, yet oh-so familiar, disturbing quality that repulses just as much as it draws in. Certainly, the thought of blood displayed on a white wall, smeared in an appealing shape that bears feint resemblance to contemporary art is not a happy one, but begs the rather natural question of how exactly said blood got on the aforementioned wall. It is, indeed, a curious occurrence how something that is not particularly pleasant to dwell on still prompts the mind to become occupied with the thought of it for a much longer period of time than should have been expected—or desired, for that matter.

Undoubtedly, Reno's, unfortunate, opportunities to test the afore stated conjecture on his own psyche are in abundance, but over the years, his tolerance for allowing disturbing imagery to serve as the focal point of his thoughts decreased considerably. Perhaps age was a factor, or maybe Reeve's employment had a say in the matter, but whatever the case may have been, the gruesome picture, neatly splitting Reno's latest assignment file at the three-quarters mark, startled the red-head more than anticipated. Not so much because of the originality of the crime scene,—he has, after all, seen plenty worse—but rather because of the painfully familiar-looking burn marks, which stood out in hues of black and red, scorching the victim's body.

If Reno were to take a wild guess,—though said guess would probably not be all that wild, and perhaps not even a guess at all,—the perpetrator's weapon of choice was something that has been a familiar presence at the red-head's side through almost a decade: mainly, an EMR. Reno's was quite the rare make, of course, seeing as it was the original ShinRa model. Upon the company's ruin, its arsenal of precious weaponry was destroyed, only a few pieces of the elaborate collection, eventually, recovered. But despite the unfortunate—or, arguably, fortunate—fact, EMR travesties, though not in common use, have become more or less popular after the Meteor Crisis. Somewhat ironic that at the same time Reeve was attempting to tighten the regulations on the possession of weapons.

What worried Reno, however, thinking back on the picture that has become a somewhat permanent stencil in his mind, was the degree of familiarity that the scene carried. Perhaps much less clean, but the homicide came close to mirroring the red-head's own master pieces—if they could, crudely, be called that. All things considered, the perpetrator's EMR model had to be ShinRa's own, and that could lead to any number of unpleasant conjectures pertaining to the identity of the killer. Having been able to attain a ShinRa model EMR certainly placed this mystery individual closer to home than would have been comfortable. And that's all without even so much as mentioning who the victim was—another unpleasant complication, mind you.

Indeed, Reno couldn't have found a better guarantee for a headache than a few hours spent studying his latest assignment file that was about to, undoubtedly, ruin the next few weeks of his life. It came as an almost upsetting realization for the Turk that his bag, despite everything it contained, wouldn't be able to offer him any migraine cure. After all, under the threat of a headache or not, his male pride just wouldn't allow Reno to carry around a bottle of pills. Actually, his male pride wouldn't allow him to be caught in possession of quite a few things that he'd rather have occasionally: case in point, tranquilizers. The aforementioned he'd really appreciate, especially currently, sitting on a train, stuck with nothing but a thick folder of gruesome pictures and boring text for company, along with one sleeping brat.

Then again, maybe such company would have been preferable, seeing as the alternative really made Reno reconsider his mused complaints.

A/N: This would be a good time to spin out some good lie about how I've been overly busy, which is true to an extent, and how I haven't even had a free minute, which is a complete lie, to post the update. Truth be told, however, I had writer's block. In fact, at some point, I was really doubting whether I knew where this story was going at all –ducks thrown vegetables and almost a half a year's worth of rotten fruits- I know where this is going now, though! =) My apologies! I'm getting back into it. Promise!

Thanks!

Red.

Cheshy: Wordy is good! Wordy is damn good. My apologies for making you wait so long. If you'd like, I can offer you to go back to squealing over the Reno/Yuffie interactions… I purposefully included a lot of them this chapter XD Thank you for your kind review, and I hope the plot's starting to get flushed out.

Kaikai PANTS: I'm so glad you're enjoying this! And, god, I'm so sorry for the late update. I hope you'll be pacified with this a little :D I promise, I know where I'm going with this now! Thanks so much for you review!

AmbivalentAngyl: -bows- Thank you, and I hope, with this update, I didn't disappoint!