It seemed all of them needed a drink, in fact. Including Cait Sith, who, as far as anyone could tell, was not physically capable of having one. Still, he sat cheerily at the center of a far table, reading the fortunes of passersby and patrons in between the rolls of dice he was no doubt responsible for providing.
Vincent sat in a far corner, drinking quietly, his eyes on Reno and Rude as they chatted.
Reno had been quick to order a pitcher of beer and had informed the bartender not to let it get empty before settling in with Rude and Cait Sith, quite happy to be drowning himself in his daily round of suds. The job wasn't too terrible so far, in his opinion - he got to stick with his partner, laugh at the cat and make his once-favorite scientist insane at regular intervals. Actually, this job was pretty awesome. He'd have to thank the president later on.
Lyla paused beside Vincent's table, hesitant, a tall glass containing something deep and amber-colored in hand. "May I? Or would you rather drink alone?"
He looked up at her, a note of surprise in his placid expression, before spreading a hand in silent invitation.
She offered him a small smile in return, setting her glass down before pulling a chair out for herself and settling into it. "I finally realized why your name sounds so familiar," she said plainly.
"AVALANCHE." He suggested, looking across the table evenly.
"No," she admitted, "Though I remember Reeve mentioning you being a member in passing at some point. Pages 172 through 190 of my doctoral dissertation are about you."
He blinked, brows arching as he took a mental tally. That was better than 20 pages.
"You're not mentioned by name," she added quickly, averting her gaze for a moment and allowing herself a sip of her drink. "It's on the history of the Jenova Project and the questions it raises concerning morality. ... an attempt at proof that scientific advancement and decent morals don't have to be mutually exclusive."
"I see." He said over the rim of his glass. "Popular topic these days, I bet."
"It will probably be dismissed," she told him, allowing just the slightest hint of disappointment to show through. "But I've detailed most of the project, what isn't classified, so whether or not they agree with me or my defense, it should earn the degree regardless. I originally planned to omit your story as it wasn't a part of the main project so much as a result of it, but it was too interesting." She paused and winced slightly as a faint blush began to creep into her ears.
"... I'm certain I meant to say horrible. It's - awful, of course. ... I'm not insensitive, I'm just socially very, very awkward."
Vincent stared at her for a beat before lowering his head to conceal the slight smile. "I wouldn't know." he rasped. "Being the life of so many parties."
She gave him a sidelong glance, paused with her glass halfway to her lips. "Do you get tired of putting on the scary voice, ever?"
"Needs a drink, after awhile." He said without skipping a beat, illustrating with a tip of his beer.
She smirked. "I thought you just smoked a lot until you slipped on it back at the lab. Just for a second."
"You noticed." He quipped, watching her evenly.
The truth was that the fact might have embarrassed the hell out of him, but he didn't fancy admitting to it. Even Cid'd yet to call him out on catching it.
"I notice a lot of things," she said awkwardly, looking away again and closing one eye to inwardly curse at herself. "I won't spread the word, though."
"Much obliged." Vincent said, almost wryly, setting his mug back against the table.
She looked back and smiled, almost nervously, turning her attention to her drink very decidedly. "Having met you, it feels disrespectful to leave you in my dissertation. I can remove that section, if you like."
The man in red watched her for a moment, set off balance by the offer. At length, he shook his head. "That wont change the past. Who knows. Someone may even learn from it."
"I should hope," she began quietly, "that someone reads it and learns that there are boundaries that should never be crossed."
"Knowing isn't the problem." Vincent said evenly, taking another drink.
"It's true. Plenty of people know but don't care." She frowned, pausing to take a drink as well. "Dr. Ingram, though. He's a good man. He wants to make sure Hojo's 'legacy' is erased and to see that his victims don't continue to suffer."
"Mm."
She looked up at him. "You disagree," she informed him, rather than asked.
"I've known too many people of science," he paused a beat, taking a breath. "Not to reserve judgment."
She paused again, recoiling slightly, her smile flickering away. "Do you think we're all like Hojo?" she asked clinically, without a hint of hurt or defensiveness. "It would make sense."
"No." Vincent looked up. "I don't."
"No?"
"No." Red eyes swept over the bar, finding the trio as they caroused. Watching Cait Sith count down Reno and Rude's shots. "But there are so many ways to be wrong." His voice was lower, almost sad. "Better to be cautious and surprised than open and unsuspecting."
"Depressing," was her only response at first, though hardly accusatory. She followed his gaze towards the table in the opposite corner, watching passively as Reno laughed loudly at something Rude, or maybe Cait, had said. She frowned and looked back. "But I can't deny that you're right. If I were you, I would never trust another living soul," she went on, echoing his tone.
She looked up again, eyes wide. "Not that I pity you. I mean, what happened was awful, of course I think that- but not that I feel sorry for you, I'm sure you don't want- you know what?" She laughed mirthlessly as she focused on her drink again. "Starting to remember why I should learn not to talk so much."
"There is good in this world. Or people willing to fight for it. That has been proven over and over again the last few years. Maybe that makes hope... worth trying." The sound beneath his cowl was almost like a smirk. "But, maybe I do ... feel just a little sorry for myself. Here and there."
Lyla allowed herself to look back despite the embarassed flush that had attacked her cheeks. "You've got every right to," she said plainly, taking another drink.
"All of us have suffered crimes. Committed sins." Vincent murmured, shifting back in his chair. "That's the world we live in, now."
"Unfortunately," Lyla agreed, though grudgingly, settling back in her chair as well.
Vincent watched her for a beat, then gestured with his beer-laden hand. "Like you."
"Committed sins, like me?" she echoed, confused. She raised a brow. "Harsh, Valentine."
He leaned back again, any mirth concealed by the high collar of his cloak. "I'm sure you had your reasons. But don't expect me to turn a blind eye to what you've done." The words accompanied a flick of his metallic fingers, indicating the table across the way.
"Excuse me?" she asked, looking honestly affronted for the first time that evening. The flick of his claw redirected her attention; all color drained from her face as she watched Reno knock back two shots, one after the other, then slam his fist down on the table before laughing and saying something to Rude that was indiscernible from where they sat. She was startled when Reno looked back and noticed her watching, waving and sticking his tongue out at her before turning back to the others at his table.
Lyla turned around, mortified. "Oh my God."
Vincent watched her with a certain, infuriating serenity.
She narrowed her eyes at him, brow furrowed. "You are making fun of me." She paused. "You are a son of a bitch."
"On my good days." He agreed, taking a long drink. "Although, there's no doubt it's given him an excuse to be insufferable."
"I feel I'm being unfairly blamed," she told him, sharply pointing in the general vicinity of his chest. "I'm not the one doing all of the provoking. Although I did close the door on his face yesterday."
"I noticed." Vincent agreed with the barest hint of emotion in his tone.
Her color had begun to return, but she did take an extra moment to swallow the last of her drink in one go, scowling afterward. "Everyone experiments in college. Some people do drugs. Some people question their sexuality. I went retarded."
There was a small, undignified noise as Vincent Valentine nearly choked on his beer.
"I can confess to my sins," she said reasonably, matter-of-fact. Another rousing shout came from Reno and Rude's table, and she winced. "... when they are dragged out into the open."
He nodded, expression unseen as he shifted to peer around her. "They've gathered a crowd."
"They do that," Lyla informed him without looking back. "People are impressed by how much their livers can withstand. For some god-forsaken reason. ... or maybe it's the cat."
"You'd think there weren't stranger things, in Junon."
"I know. People drink like it's their job here. Drink and fish. Or work for the military. The only three options, really."
Vincent thought that over, watching the ruckus. "Or fly." He said absently, remembering the airport.
"Mhm. Or get tattooed in Liberty Square and do things they regret. College town," she explained.
Vincent gave the far table another pointed look.
She gave him a sharp look in reply. "Look. Sometimes people just make mistakes. That last two years. And involve very brief and miserable cohabitation."
Vincent lowered his head again, remarkably slowly for a man attempting to hide his mirth.
"I see that smirk," she grumbled. "I realize you think you are hilarious, Mr. Valentine."
"Yo," Reno interjected, causing Lyla to let out a curtailed shriek as she jumped in her seat and narrowly missed knocking her empty glass over. She sunk downwards even as he crouched between their chairs, putting his arms across the rungs. "Chatting up Drac about putting in your application for AVALANCHE's Research and Development department? Oh wait, they don't have one because they're terrorists. Awwww," he jeered, sticking his lower lip out as far as it would go, trailing his index finger down his left cheek.
Cait Sith, in Reno's absence, had clamored atop Rude, and holding his megaphone to his ear, was using it to better hear what was happening across the inn floor.
Lyla glared at him, shifting to turn her back even as she responded with a curt, "Grow up and fuck off, Reno."
The redhead's hand flew to rest over his heart as he batted his eyes. "To the quick. It's really killing you to be working for big bad Shinra again, isn't it, dollface?"
She snorted. "No. It's killing me that you never seem to shut up."
Rude and the cat exchanged a vertical glance. Cait leaned out, the better to hear, tail anchoring him on the large Turk.
Vincent watched quietly.
Reno gestured broadly, smirking. "Maybe you should have told your boyfriend not to assign me and Rude to your little expedition."
Lyla twitched noticeably. "Reno," she said icily.
"Lighten up. Learn to take a joke and have some fun," the redhead offered casually, though the grin on his face was no less shit-eating than it had been moments before. "Just because you're trying to become Hojo Jr. doesn't mean you have to be so pissy all the time."
There were no words then, just the clatter of her chair hitting the ground as she stood suddenly, grabbing Reno by the throat and shoving him backwards. His eyes went wide as she took him by surprise, slamming him into the wall beside Vincent's chair and standing on her toes to hiss an inch away from his face. "Leave. Me. Alone," she warned him darkly. "Or you'll have to extract your balls from somewhere inside your liver. We're here to do a job. Grow up. Cut it out. Do the job. You're capable of it. So fucking do it." She released her hold on him just as he had began to make faint gagging sounds, having already attempted to wrest her hand from his throat with both of his. She turned her back and left without another word, and Reno sneered as she left, waiting until she was out the door to glance back and see that a slight imprint the shape of his shoulders had been made in the brick wall, dust and small bits of brick spattering his jacket.
"Shit," he said plainly.
"Lassie's strong." Cait Sith observed with mild surprise, even as Rude reached to haul his partner from the floor.
"Always has been." The Turk said, looking the wall over.
Vincent said nothing, but a frown had begun to pull at the edges of his lips.
"Fuckin' might accidentally have fun if she fought back, heaven forbid," Reno griped, brushing the dust off his jacket, frowning. "Supposed to be funny. Damn, that HURT."
Rude slapped the dust from his back with one, well placed pat, frowning after her.
"S'pose ye brought that on yeself." Cait Sith said doubtfully, looking after the doorway she had dissapeared through.
"Yeah," Reno confessed, sighing. "I was kind of hoping she would just throw beer in my face or something. That would be funny and delicious. And not bruise."
"Need another drink?" Rude suggested, eyeing the imprint in the wall.
"Dude." Reno raised an eyebrow at his partner. "Always, compadre."
Outside, the night was cool and clear. Stars shivered in a long, speckled blanket across the night. Glimmering determinedly against the bright city lights.
"That was pretty impressive, really." the voice was low and clear over the traffic, addressing Lyla as she left the bar.
Lyla spared a brief glance over her shoulder even as she continued to walk, looking both surprised and irate when she spotted Kaiun. "Which bit."
He shrugged. "The redhead-shaped pattern on the wall bit."
She paused, wincing. "... is there one? Really?"
He held his fingers marginally apart. "Ah mikaka."
She narrowed one eye. "Is that like, a tiny schmoo?"
He flashed her a crooked grin. "Yeah. Somethin' like that. So what's got you all riled up, Miss Scientist."
Lyla opened her mouth as if to respond, then closed it abruptly, shaking her head. "Nothing you need be concerned about."
"I don't really need to be concerned about anything." His grin faded into a sort of smirk that had proven to be semi-permanent. Kaiun's eyes turned upward again, returning to the bright gleam of stars. "And t'be honest, I don't make a habit out of it, either."
"I had already guessed as much, really."
"Oozes off in sheaves, right?" He chuckled. "Well lookit it this way. Got no one to tell."
She folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head once more. "I'm not really the open-up-and-share-with-strangers type."
"Thank god."
She raised a brow. "Sorry to interrupt you by walking down the street you happened to be standing in?" she suggested.
Kaiun shook his head. "Didn't mean it like that. You might nota picked this up yet, due to my stunning countenance and way with words, but I mighta lied about that people person thing back at your lab."
"I had also guessed that. You seem to be Reno's sort of people."
"Trouble with that sorta people's that that sorta people rarely mixes." He tipped his head back enough to see her again. "That, and I'm not as much fun as I used to be."
"Maybe you should go and attempt to mix. I have a house to storm off to," she sighed.
"Not for me. But don't let me interrupt ya. Sleep good, Science Girl."
She looked at him, oddly startled, then gave a half-hearted sort of wave before turning and continuing away from the bar.
Lyla was glad they had chosen to stay the night in Junon. The plan was to drive back to Edge in the morning and make a report; they would likely reach Dr. Ingram's office by early afternoon, and she guessed that it would take him the rest of the day to sort through these new files and decide on their next objective. As eager as she was to get the data-collecting part of this project finished, the lab they had visited earlier that day had unsettled her. Sleep never came easily to her, but tonight she didn't even want to try. She couldn't block out the image of all those projects, those people, bent over in their glass pods, faces blue from suffocation – those who had managed not to be eaten.
She had gone back to her father's house after the incident in the bar, leaving the rest to stay at the inn for the night. She had already gone ahead and charged the rooms to Dr. Ingram's account per his request, which eased her guilt for having stormed out, if only slightly. She wanted to say that her behavior the past couple of days was just a result of Reno's constant prodding, but if she were to be completely honest with herself, she had been wound tighter than usual for awhile now. Work was stressful. Struggling to impress the president enough to get their funding back for the department was taking a lot more than she had originally expected. At least it seemed that Ingram's current project had caught the president's attention. She was worried about her father now that she had moved away, leaving him to take care of himself. She couldn't remember the last time she had managed a full night's sleep, even with the aid of the pills she took despite their lack of results. When she did sleep, nightmares ensured that it was restless. Yes. Those had been getting much worse lately.
She sighed, glancing towards the stairs that led to the second floor. Her father had gone to bed an hour before, and she had taken to channel-surfing in the dark. Nothing caught her interest. She frowned to herself, reaching for her phone and studying it as though it were some foreign creature before opening it and scrolling through her address book. She couldn't fix everything that was bothering her, but there was at least one issue she could handle.
"Yo, princess?" the voice on the other line answered, sounding just slightly confused.
Lyla paused for a moment, half-ready to hang up the phone and pretend she had dialed Reno by accident. "Hi," she said finally, somewhat doubtful. "I'm at my father's. Can you come over for a little while? We need to talk."
Now it was Reno's turn to be silent. "... sure," he said cautiously. "Does he have some walls he'd like to decorate with an imprint of my body?"
"Sorry about that."
"Nah. I was askin' for it, I know you're smacky," Reno supplied.
"So you're coming?" she asked. "You remember the way, right?"
"Yeah, yeah. Be there in five, sit tight." Without saying goodbye, he hung up, and Lyla got to her feet in order to turn a few lights on before he arrived.
Five minutes turned out to be an accurate estimate, though Lyla wasn't terribly surprised. The bar was only a few blocks from her father's house, something Reno used to think was incredibly convenient. He still looked perplexed when she opened the door, not to mention cautious, eying her up and down as though he were searching her for a weapon.
"What's up?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably.
"Come in, sit down," she sighed, stepping away from the door to gesture toward the sofa. He looked at her blankly for a moment, then carefully stepped through, looking over each shoulder before wandering into the main room and gingerly taking a seat as instructed.
"Okay. Sitting," he informed her. Lyla shut the door behind her, crossing the room to sit down on the opposite end of the sofa, turning slightly towards him.
"We have to work something out if we're going to be working on this project together," she said bluntly, and even as she spoke, she suddenly became painfully aware of the fact that this was the first time they had spoken alone since the breakup two years ago.
Reno frowned, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Y'know I'm just messing with ya."
"You're provoking me," Lyla corrected.
"Okay, yeah, I might be doing that. But not because I want to make you mad. You should lighten up, learn to take a joke."
She frowned in reply. "And just take it? So you and Rude can laugh about how clever and hilarious you think you are behind my back?"
"That's not what we're doin'." He leaned back against the sofa, folding his arms over his chest, drawing attention to his open suit jacket and untucked shirt. "And Rude's not a part of this, so I'll just say, that's not what I'm doin'. If I really wanted to be mean, you know I'd be nastier. You know me. Maybe you've just never seen me try to deal with someone I still like before. I don't hate you or anything."
"Yeah," she agreed softly. "I don't hate you, either."
"I'm ribbin' on you because..." He paused, letting out a sigh and directing his gaze upwards, fixing it on the ceiling. He winced slightly, as though the next part pained him greatly. "Because we're buddies, aren't we?"
"... I didn't think that had ever been established," she admitted, looking mildly surprised. "I figured you'd never want to see me again. Especially after I punched you and, ah... accidentally knocked you out on my way out the door."
"That hurt, by the way," Reno conceded, "But nah. You're cool. It just went bad, that's okay. I was pissed for awhile, but sometimes that's how things work out. Here's where it gets fuzzy for me. I make fun of you, and okay, I get that you weren't getting it was just for fun, but the girl I knew wasn't so tense all the time. She woulda grinned and fought back, and had fun with it." He lowered his head and turned it to look at her. "When did you stop havin' fun, Ly?"
"I was wondering that, too," she told him, frowning again.
"I can't help you answer that," he told her, with some real note of regret, "but I will say this. If everything is gonna hit you so personally, I can lay off. Act like nothin' ever happened, and keep it all business-like, and I won't tease you anymore. But to be honest, that's no fun, and then people are gonna see that something's up, and Rude and Valentine will probably think we're kissin' on each other again and that I've got your cooties. And you know, I've got a reputation to uphold."
She chuckled, not quite a real laugh, but close enough. "And we wouldn't want to tarnish that."
"No way," he confirmed. "But hey, or we can do this. Instead of getting upset when I poke at you, which you now know is supposed to be friendly, you can poke back. And the threats, they're fine and all, so long as you don't put me through another wall. But come on. Have fun. Couple years ago, you would have thought this was fun."
"Yeah," she said with a nod. "I would have."
"So are we goin' with Plan B? Who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself, and maybe some brave knight will see me pickin' on you and come to your rescue. You never know."
"Alright. We can give that a shot."
"Good. I'm gonna get back to the bar," he told her, getting to his feet.
"Okay. I'm glad we cleared things up a bit." She followed suit, standing to show him out.
Reno started for the door, then paused. "Did you want to come?" he asked. She shook her head in reply, making a shooing motion towards the front door.
"No, you go. I'll try to get some sleep."
"Alright. Don't take too many of those pills, never did you much good anyway," he warned, only the faintest flicker of a frown tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Mm," was the only reply she gave him, opening the door and stepping aside. "Have fun."
"Will do," Reno replied after a brief pause, watching her a moment before stepping out into the street. He waved over his shoulder without looking back, sinking his other hand into his right pocket. "Sleep good." When he was a few yards away, Lyla shut and locked the door behind him, and sighed.