AN: #octorawk A million times better? Really? ^_^ Ha ha, thanks.

I really, really wanted Barrett to be the scrap shop dude; but if they knew each other, it strains credibility too much that he wouldn't acknowledge Reno at the pillar. As for why Yuffie doesn't acknowledge him, I'll get to that.

Also, I didn't invent what Reno buys; if I recall, it's what Palmer uses to fight you for the Bronco.

Lastly, I should clarify what Tseng means when he talks about "senior men:" I imagine there are a few dozen people in the Department of Administrative Research, with military, administrative or espionage backgrounds, who could be loosely classed as trainee Turks, while only the senior field operatives (like Tseng and Rude) are "Turks" in his eyes. As we've seen, Tseng has very high standards.

A man in a leather apron opened the back door on the alley. He put back his welder's goggles, and stared in abject disbelief. He saw a young man, holding hands with a barely-teenaged girl, both wearing long-sleeved jackets; and in the light pouring out from the shop, even this failed to disguise the handcuff.

"Oh, Reno. Planet's sake."

"Dex, don't be cute. Can we come in or what?"

"Dyne's got half the sector looking for you! What'd you do," he added, with a glance at the embarrassed-looking girl, "kidnap his daughter?"

"Nobody can kidnap Dyne's daughter, Dex, because she's dead; that's kind of a salient point with him. I'm gonna make things right. I just need time, and I need you."

"You'll bring down so much heat this place'll catch fire."

"Look," and Reno jammed his foot into the door as it slammed shut, wincing, "it aint hard to get on the King's bad side! I was in your place, you know I'd do the same for you. And practically have already. Or am I mistaken, my forgetful homeboy?"

Dex's frightened eyes peered through the crack in the door, but he made no attempt to dislodge Reno's foot.

"So what d'you want?"

"The biggest shooter you got, and the sharpest saw. I'll be gone in five. For your mother's sake, if not me, do it for the kid; she didn't ask to get mixed up in this shit," he lied.

Finally Dex relented. "Alright. But if your name ever gets cleared, you owe me big time."

"Don't I always pay up?"

He and Yuffie hustled inside the back room, a hell-hot foundry with piles of scrap rising up to the ceiling, and a belching, open furnace. Yuffie immediately clawed her jacket off, letting it fall over the handcuff.

"Gross-ness, it's a million and a half degrees in here!"

"Yeah," Reno agreed, "heat's the last thing this guy has to worry about. What've you got for me, metalman?"

"This," said Dex, hefting down what looked like an oversized pistol with a trumpet-shaped barrel, "is a mako gun. It'll take down a helicopter."

"Whoa, I said shooter, not hand cannon!"

"You want the best or not? 'Sides, if you take a shot at Dyne with this, you'd better fucking kill him; cause it aint getting out that one of my guns only wounded the toughest guy in Wall Market. You get me?"

"We're hunting bigger foxes than Dyne."

Dex plugged his ears. "Okay! I don't wanna hear any more. Just remember, hold it towards your center of gravity when you fire, otherwise the recoil 'll plant you on your ass."

"How much?"

"Seven hundred."

"I'll give you five."

Yuffie kicked him.

"Wha-at! I'm still gonna have to eat after this.-Fine, you goddamn bandit, seven hundred." Reno counted out the gil, as Yuffie squirmed.

"Look, whatever," she said, "just cut this chain! I'm not gonna be stuck to this perv-bag for one more second."

"What happened, anyway? Magic trick gone bad?"

"Oh yeah, it was that one trick called mind your damn business, gramps."

"I'm twenty-nine! Well…there's an industrial table saw over there. I'll get you aprons and goggles, cause it'll spark up somethin' fierce. No charge; cause I feel bad for you, getting cuffed to this walking suicide pill. Planet's sake, Reno, you pick up trouble like a magnet."

By the time Tseng fed her the third hot rum toddy, Elena had stopped shaking, and was beginning to look quite pleased with herself.

"It's just…" she said, the blood rising to her cheeks. "It's called the Department of Administrative Research. I'd heard rumors, but I still thought it would involve a lot of less of, um, this, and a lot more…paperwork."

"Turks," said Tseng, "don't do paperwork. That's what secretaries are for."

"Yes, sir."

"You did well," he said, and knocked back his own whisky. "It's not easy to stand up to Dyne…he's one of the tougher characters around here, and if he's teamed up with the Rat King, that makes me…uneasy. In any case, that was lesson number one. Lesson number two is holding your liquor."

It looked, thought Tseng, as if she were going to fail the lesson. She was already swaying a bit on her seat.

"Pardon me, sir, but…what else do we know about this, um, Rat King? I don't want to think about who someone like Dyne could work for."

"The King? Formerly known as Gerry Fisk. He was a shipping clerk in Juno, if you can believe it. For fifteen years, he kept his head down, and embezzled two million from right under Shinra's nose. No one knew he was also a stone-cold psychopath, because he didn't need to kill anyone until he got caught. I've never seen him in person, though Rude had a run-in with him once as an MP…ah, speak of the devil."

Rude stalked in, brushing the slum-dust off his overcoat. His face was flushed as well, as if something embarrassing had happened. Tseng raised his glass.

"Salud, comrade! How is our old friend the Don?"

Rude sat down, and immediately began to fill the empty glass Tseng had left ready for him.

"Still a human slug."

Tseng leaned forward. "Is that…lipstick on your collar? Why, you dog."

"His girls were all over me from the second I got there," said Rude, ruefully brushing at the offending stain. "It's his first line of defense."

Elena giggled profusely, and Rude looked at Tseng.

"Been watering the flower, sir?"

"She's a growing girl. You can handle yourself, can't you, Elena?"

"Respectfully, sir, maybe you should leave the field training to me from now on."

"I'm fine!" said Elena, and burped faintly. "Fine."

"Come on, Rude, get that whisky down; then report."

Dutifully, Rude downed the whole glass, wiped his mouth, then said: "Looks like Red Bird had a Wu-Tai girl at the Honeybee. He got sentimental and mentioned the stone, and the Don told the King. It's our guess if he told her anything else of interest. But it didn't sound like either of them had any idea what the stone was worth."

"Which might explain," said Tseng, "why he seems more concerned with tracking down Reno than recovering the stone. He's rich enough, but he's touchy and paranoid, and he's got no patience with fuck-ups."

"Neither do you, sir…right?" Elena ventured.

Tseng smiled. "Yes. We could use Gerry Fisk. If he weren't a frothing-mad dog just begging to be put down. He's killed more of his own men than we have.-Speaking of which, Dyne has volunteered to help us track down Reno…provided he gets to kill him once we're through."

"Sounds fair enough," said Rude, while Elena, who had yet to consider it in such stark terms, paled again.

"He said he'd wait by the gym…apparently he was uncomfortable with my Shinra stink. Why don't you go meet him. It may not be worth the trouble to get the King himself, so we'll see what this Reno knows. In the meantime," he emptied his glass, "I'll see the girl at the Honeybee. If she and Red Bird got along so well, I imagine she'll like me just fine."

"And me, sir?" asked Elena, brightly.

"You've put in a day's work, and I'll recommend you for bonus pay. But why don't you go report to Heidegger. Rude and I can manage it from here. Dyne can handle any threat we come across, and if he becomes a threat himself, I wouldn't put you between me and him again."

Elena got smartly to her feet, steadied herself against the table, and saluted.

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"

Then she walked off, looking proud, if a bit unsteady.

Rude adjusted his shades. "Isn't a report a bit premature?"

"Never show a fool half a job. I don't care what Heidegger knows; I just want to imagine the look on his face when that tipsy girl flounces into his office."

He sipped.

"What do you think?" asked Rude.

"She's smart. I quite like her."

"I think I do, too."

"She'll never be a Turk, though."

"Doubtful," Rude agreed.

Tseng's phone buzzed. He answered, listened for a minute, then hung up, looking satisfied.

"That was the bookie. Looks like I'm a hundred in the black, so the round's on me."

Tseng hadn't had occasion to visit the Honeybee Inn, the open sewer into which the filth of Wall Market ran, in over a year. High-class escorts were available to the Shinra brass, and he made use even of those services infrequently. As he approached the neon nightmare of a facade, a drunk MP clutching the arm of a tarted-up girl stumbled into him. Tseng met his eyes, and he blanched.

"S-shir! A-ah'm…ah wash just…"

"What you get up to in your down time is none of my concern," Tseng said curtly. Then he reached into his pocket and flipped a gil coin onto the cobblestones. "Take that and buy some protection. We don't need another VD outbreak when you get back to barracks and nail all your squadmates."

"Yeah, shir!" mumbled the soldier, reached for the coin, and fell over.

Smiling a little in spite of himself, Tseng went inside. A blonde girl, dressed in one of those ludicrous bee costumes, floated up to him. He didn't want to know how she recognized him, though evidently she did.

"Mr. Tseng! We…please, don't disturb the customers…I'll take you straight to the manager."

"This isn't a raid. I was told a Wu-Tai girl works here?"

"Oh," she said demurely, and gave him a knowing wink. "You must mean our masseuse, Moon Flower. Please, sir, right this way."

"Don't get the wrong idea."

"Why, of course not. Moon Flower is very…talented. I'm sure you'll appreciate her services, Mr. Tseng."

Tseng fumed a little, but followed her down a blue-lit corridor.

"How long has she been with you?" he asked.

"Oh, ever since the war, sir."

"A refugee?"

"Maybe. We never ask many questions. She's happy here."

"I'm sure."

The girl knocked on a door marked with a crescent moon.

"Please…come in," came a faint voice.

"She sounds nervous," said Tseng, then, loudly: "Is everything alright in there?"

"Yes. Of course."

She also sounded young.

Tseng paused. He couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary. Still, putting one hand on his gun, he pushed the door open cautiously. The blonde girl quickly slipped away.

The room with its massage table was empty, and dark. Light spilled from under another, partly open door.

"Please, sir, come into the bedroom. I was just resting."

"This isn't a social call," said Tseng, but advanced, slowly.

Then he noticed long strips of paper on the walls. They had been attached recently, and clumsily. Each one was carefully inscribed with one or more characters of Wu-Tai calligraphy.

Tseng muffled a curse, but it was too late. He drew his gun. A closet door swung open. A smirking, red-headed man emerged, both hands gripping a pistol with a barrel the size of a megaphone.

"Surpri-ise!"

"Reno."

"The very same. Reach for the stars, motherfucker."

Tseng did no such thing, and fixed his sights between Reno's eyes.

"Impressive," he said. "I give it a six out of ten. Those paper warding amulets are an especially nice touch. I'm so unused to Wu-Tai magic, I didn't realize my ki sense was muffled. I presume that girl is with you?"

Behind him, the bedroom door swung open, and a moment later he felt another large gun barrel pressed between his shoulder blades.

"Yeah, you bastard," hissed the voice he had taken for Moon Flower's, in Wu-Tai. She was breathing heavily. "I can't believe you didn't see the amulets. I hate you, but I still couldn't believe you'd be so weak. I guess it's true what they say…an oath-breaker's soul is dead. You're just a suit, walking around."

"Hey!" said Reno. "Let's keep this in the common tongue, alright?-Yo, brother. Drop the case."

"I know it's difficult to see, but this case is handcuffed to my fucking wrist. You'll have to cut my arm off."

"That can be arranged. What's in it? A couple stones, maybe?"

"Oh. I just brought it to scoop up what's left of you after I kick your ass. I wouldn't want to leave a mess."

Reno laughed, loud. "Ha! That's a good one. You know, I can't believe my luck. I guess the gods are paying me back for that fuck-up yesterday. The Turk, and the stones, all in one place. You saved me a lot of trouble, my friend."

"Your lucky day…is it?" Tseng stared into Reno's eyes. Although they were about the same height, he seemed, all of a sudden, much taller. "I'm afraid you couldn't be more mistaken. You don't know what a powder keg you're sitting on. I'd thought you were dumb, Reno, but not this dumb."

"Yeah, keep talking, asshole!"

Tseng sighed. He reached up to straighten a plait of hair that had come loose on his forehead. Then he spoke: "Alright, we've had our fun, but playtime's over. Now, given that I'm fairly sure the object pressed into my back is a hair dryer…" he felt Yuffie flinch, "and given that if you shoot that," he stifled a laugh, "howitzer, it'll put you through the wall, and reduce me, your little partner, and the stones to dust, which will most likely result in a chain reaction taking out all Wall Market, including your own sorry ass…I think we're done here. As courtesy for getting the drop on me, I'll give you a running start…how does three minutes sound?"

"He's b-bluffing!" squeaked Yuffie.

Reno narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. If it were that easy to blast the case open, you wouldn't be carrying it around."

"Go on," said Tseng. "Test me. Look me in the eyes, and see if you really want to test me. These eyes? They've seen things that would make that pretty little head of yours blow up like a watermelon. Go on, fancy boy."

And he advanced on Reno with short, silent steps.

"Stop right the fuck there! Stop….stop!"

Tseng holstered his gun, then reached out his arm for Reno's.

"Touch your toes, Yuffie!" Reno screamed.

The gun exploded. The air was ripped in half, green light flooded the room; then two crashes, first as Reno went straight through the cheap plaster wall, then as Tseng, propelled backwards over Yuffie's prone body, struck the bathroom door, snapping it in half.

The mako gun left an evil-smelling blanket of ozone. Yuffie staggered upright, rubbing her eyes.

"R-Reno!" she yelled.

"What! What!"

"I can't hear you, what?"

"Speak up, sister!"

"I think I'm d-deaf!"

"What?"

When Reno picked himself up, frantically brushing plaster dust off his clothes, he realized he was now standing in the adjacent room. It was a bathroom, and a fat, naked man goggled at him from the tub, clutching a towel.

Reno cleaned out his ears.

"What're you looking at, older-timer?"

He stepped back through the ruined wall, wincing with every motion. Yuffie was trembling, clutching her sides, as she knelt by Tseng. Smoke poured off the Turk's body; but he seemed uninjured. Reno gawked.

"Son of a bitch! It didn't scratch him!"

"He's g-got a Barrier materia," said Yuffie. "But I think he's out cold."

"He'd damn well better be."

Then she was on her feet, pounding on him futilely with her tiny fists.

"Hey, hey, what gives!"

"Why'd you do that! You could've killed me, you total whackjob!"

"I panicked, okay! You try looking that brother in the eyes and not freaking the hell out! But it worked, didn't it? Go splash some water on your face, and calm the fuck down. I'm gonna tie him up with the sheets. If we make it back to the hideout in one piece, I'll never do another bad deed so long as I live, cross my heart."

Back in the room, Yuffie, still shaking faintly, attached more amulets to Tseng's arms and chest. The unconscious Turk was lashed to a chair with everything they'd been able to find; blankets, bedsheets, Reno's jacket, the shower curtains; and a sweater was tied in a bag over his head. Somehow, none of it was able to make Tseng look the slightest bit comical.

Reno squatted in the corner, smoking a cigarette, and tapping the ashes into a teacup.

"What're those ones for?" he asked.

"If he was trained like my dad," said Yuffie, her face tight with concentration as she readied another amulet, "he'll have all kinds of crazy ki-based powers. This should keep him down, at least for, like, a couple hours."

She pressed it to the very center of Tseng's chest, muttered a few words, and her forefinger glowed briefly.

"I got to hand it to you, you really saved my ass."

"Well…I couldn't have done it without you." Then she blushed and added: "Even if you did almost screw it up. Cripes, I still can't believe you.-There, that's the last one."

She stepped back, and Reno stood up. Together, they looked down at Tseng, like children who had received a present so lavish it made them nervous.

"The Turks aren't so tough," muttered Reno. "I say we hold him for ransom."

"No way! Let's just get the stones. This is getting, like, way too real for me."

"You said you'd kill him if you could!"

"Yeah, um…not, like, with my bare hands or anything."

"Well…we can't drag him to the shop. Dex saw enough for one day."

"So rent the saw."

"He'll blow his stack if I waltz in there again.-Listen. I'm gonna put out some feelers, tell Dyne I want to talk. Once I get him and the King off my back, we'll have some breathing-room. You gonna be okay with this guy? What am I saying. I'd be crazy to leave you alone. Shit. What choice do I have?"

"I'll be fine," said Yuffie. "I'll just…keep away from him."

"I can hear you," said Tseng.

Reno and Yuffie involuntarily clutched at each other. As if he could see them through the sweater fabric, he chuckled.

"Yo, shut up!" said Reno. "I think it's pretty clear who has the upper hand now. You don't co-operate…I'll cut off a finger. The little one."

"Oh, please," said Tseng, sounding almost tired. "Listen. I realize this is all very exciting for you. Kids your age probably never raised a housecat. But I'm not a fucking housecoat. You've got a tiger chained up, and that means you are beyond fucked."

Reno backhanded Tseng. The blow didn't connect as hard as he'd hoped, and his knuckles stung.

"That's right, shut your dirty traitor mouth!" said Yuffie.

Tseng laughed again. "As for you, little girl, you'll get off with a good, hard spanking. But you, Reno. See…the advantage of being a Turk is, you can work either side of the law. You fucked me over. Sadly, you're not going to get away with that. If you untie me this second, you'll get a fair trial. Kidnapping, assault on a public official…you'll walk in a few years. We can protect you from the King, as well. However. If you make yet another stupid choice on top of the myriad stupid choices you've made today, when I get free, I'll kill you. Then I'll kill your mother, your father, your brothers and sisters. Then I'll kill their mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters. I will erase the memory of a shitty little thief called Reno from the face of the planet. How does that proposition strike you?"

Reno picked up his teacup ashtray. He fingered it for a moment, then with a cry, more a moan of, "aw, piss it!" he hurled it at Tseng; but he missed and it shattered against the wall.

AN: What fun would life be if we didn't keep score?

Shards of the Heaven Stone

Team Reffie: 4

Team Turks: 0

Team Rat King: 0

Overall Score

Team Reffie: 25

Team Turks: 8

Team Rat King: 5

(scores calculated using a strict formula of whimsy)