16.

"I know she's here! Why can't I find her?" Kadaj stormed from room to room, his face a mask of grim determination.

Loz trotted along in his wake. The elder brother was doing his best to keep an eye on the youngest, but without Yazuu close by, Loz was beginning to worry that the brat might give him the slip. "Hey, Kadaj? You know, you never could get a fix on Mother; why do you think you'll be able to find her now?"

Kadaj skidded to a halt in the doorway beside the canary cage and whirled to face his brother. "Because. That's why." He cast about as though listening, then sprinted for the stairs.

Loz paused a moment, considering the large bowl of green punch that loomed invitingly on the buffet table. With a scowl he realized just how far ahead of him Kadaj must be by now; he made a mental note to get something to drink on their next lap before hurrying after the little dynamo.

He nodded toward Yazuu as he passed at a dead run, thankful that the pretty gunslinger wasn't quite close enough to trip him.

For his part, Yazuu pointed up the stairs and hooked his thumb to the left, signaling the last known whereabouts of their wayward sibling. He watched Loz speed away on his task, while mentally he counted up the current score and found Kadaj to be in the lead by about two and a half laps.

"Mr. Shinra, I must say it's a pleasure doing business with you!"

Yazuu frowned. Was that their new mother's voice? What was she doing with the human laundry pile? He edged along the wall until he caught a glimpse of the speaker.

Martha Stewart shook hands with Rufus Shinra, her whole demeanor one of triumph.

"The pleasure is mine," Shinra murmured, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it.

"Oh, you dog!" Martha simpered, reclaiming her hand with a regal little wave.

"Shinra's all about the dogs," he replied with an audible smirk.

Yazuu couldn't stand it. He detached himself from the wall and strode toward the pair. "Mother dear," he called firmly. "Why are you talking with this purveyor of dastardly foibles?"

"Actually, he's more of a connoisseur," Rude corrected mildly.

Martha put an arm around Yazuu's shoulders, blithly ignoring his personal bubble. "Dear, I've just ensured your college fund!"

Yazuu's head tilted to the side like a blond working on a math problem. "…what?"

"I'm selling the company to this bright young man here," Martha stated. "It just hasn't been the same since…well, the charm is gone. I'm going to retire and raise horses. And chickens. And ducks. And cats. The headache of running this massive consumer-driven conglomerate now rests on younger shoulders: I'm tired of being 'Ms. Perfect' all the damn time. And they still won't tell me if shooting rock salt at the paparazzi goes against my probabtion."

Stunned beyond his capacity for words, Yazuu could only stare at this magnificent, weary, delusional woman and compare her to their real mother. Surely Jenova wouldn't have sold out to Shinra – or was that how this whole thing really started?

Rufus Shinra's voice cut in on his musings. "Don't worry about a thing, Martha. I've done this lots of times. Your name will continue to grace fine households everywhere, on pots and pans, toothbrush holders, shower curtains, and megastore receipts. I think the future looks incredibly bright for ShinWart!"

Yazuu turned away, disconsolate and utterly betrayed. How could she? Everything that had brought him to her doorstep, handed over to that little blond despot – unthinkable! What should he do now? Hold fast to his decision, in spite of this turn of events? Or follow Kadaj on another round of Let's Find Mother?

I could just say 'bugger the whole thing' and go start a goth band…

Yazuu heaved a sigh and headed upstairs. He'd decide his course of action after seeing whether or not Kadaj had had any luck. Surely Jenova wouldn't be upset with him for wanting this thing with Martha Stewart to work out, though he suspected his little brother's payback wedgie would do jack all for his peace of mind.

Unheard by the forlorn remnant, Rufus called Reeve and told him, "That's right. Dump the lot of it. Or buy more – whatever you're supposed to do in a situation like this."

Unseen by that same remnant, the punchbowl trembled, then stood still as a shadowy figure slunk over and dipped a cup into the green.